#especially the scene where they are just sitting there with each other company

[add1rall]

Crazy how I just watched a straight couple fall in love in the gayest way possible

[ladysharmaa]

Heir

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: telling Anthony she's with child after facing difficulties getting pregnant

It's been three years since the wedding between Anthony Bridgerton and Y/n. The love between the two was one of the strongest anyone could have ever seen, it was obvious that they were made for each other.

They met in a very unusual way. While Anthony was courting Edwina Sharma, Y/n was seen very close to Benedict, the two of them discreetly courting each other. However, they both quickly realized that the connection between them was better as a friendship than a romantic relationship, where things seemed quite forced and uncomfortable. At the same time, Viscount Bridgerton had also broken up with Edwina after she had doubts on their wedding day.

Y/n remembered that day perfectly. She was sitting next to Benedict and the Bridgerton family on the chairs waiting for Edwina to appear and the wedding to begin. She waved a fan, trying to alleviate the horrible heat in that room. The delay seemed to make everyone nervous, especially Anthony who had drops of sweat falling from his forehead and was speaking hurriedly to his mother.

Finally, the doors opened, but, to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Edwina walking down the aisle, it was Kate Sharma, her sister. She didn't look happy, walking with an air of confidence and a serious expression, her eyes never leaving Anthony. The two exchanged quick words, until Anthony dropped his head and closed his eyes in frustration, but he still nodded and Kate left.

After a few tense seconds, Anthony finally had the courage to look at the people watching the scene and said that the wedding had been cancelled, before leaving the room too, leaving the murmur that formed.

"What a scandal." a lady gossiped with another, the two starting a conversation about what could have happened, some theories being completely ridiculous and that could ruin the family's reputation.

Y/n couldn't help herself and turned to them with a polite but sarcastic smile. "My apologies for interrupting, but the only scandal here is the fact that your son, who decided to be a priest, got so many prostitutes pregnant that only they could fill an entire line of these."

The woman gasped in horror while Benedict, who was listening to the conversation, had difficulty containing his laughter. "You foolish girl, how dare—"

"Excuse me, but I have better things to do than sit here and imagine what could have happened." Y/n got up from her chair, looking at the women one last time before going to try and find Anthony.

Despite being acquaintances, since Y/n was so close to Benedict, the two had never spoken much. However, the woman was still worried about Viscount. When she found him, sitting on the porch floor with his head in his hands, Y/n kept him company, also sitting in silence. From then on, a relationship was formed between the two that quickly became inseparable.

"My love, daydreaming again?" Anthony hummed, breaking Y/n out of his thoughts. The man wrapped his shoulders around her waist and pulled her closer, gently kissing her head. "What are you thinking about?"

"How lucky I am."

"Well, I'm the lucky one. I have a beautiful wife who I love very much. I couldn't live without you." he confessed, causing a blush to appear on her cheeks as it always did when he pronounced his love for her. "I have to go finish some paperwork, but then I'll come see you so we can go visit Daphne's son."

Y/n nodded, giving him a quick kiss and sighing as she watched him go to his office. Daphne had just had her second child, a beautiful baby boy. The couple was going to visit the family so that Y/n could help with whatever her sister-in-law needed while Anthony and Simon were going to entertain the baby's brother, a toodler who demanded a lot of attention.

Even though Y/n loved their children with all her heart, it only reminded her of what she couldn't give Anthony. The couple had been trying to get pregnant since they got married, but without success. Anthony's wife had already cried on his shoulder many times because she couldn't carry the child, her heart breaking every time she started her period.

Even though the Bridgerton man assured her several times that all he needed to be happy was her, Y/n still wanted to give him a heir. She wanted the house to be full of their children's laughter and for them to be able to create a mini version of them, a product of their love.

However, he tried not to occupy his days thinking solely about that. It was enough of all the doctors she had seen who told her that it was her fault, that her womb was not capable of developing a baby. Of course, Anthony, as soon as he heard those accusations and the look of complete heartbreak from his wife, demanded that they leave his house.

Y/n she couldn't take the blame anymore, going into a state of shock and for three days she refused to get out of bed. However, her husband would not accept that. He just wanted her to be happy, even if they never had children.

"We don't need children to be happy, I only need you. We have so many nieces and nephews who can take on my role, and we can take care of them from time to time, I'm sure my siblings wouldn't mind." Y/n remembered Anthony telling her this firmly, his hands grabbing her cheeks as they both had tears in their eyes.

And since then, they've never brought it up again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Lady Bridgerton, are you feeling alright?" one of the maids asked worriedly when she saw Y/n enter the dining room for breakfast, immediately turning paler when she smelled the eggs. "Should I fetch for Viscount Bridgerton?"

She had time to shake her head before running to the nearest bathroom, dropping herself onto the cold floor and emptying the contents of her stomach. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, gagging at the sour taste that remained in her mouth. With unsteady legs, she got up and went to wash her mouth, the maids who entered the bathroom right after her helped her to hold herself upright.

However, she quickly realized that she wasn't finished yet when a new wave of nausea consumed her and she knelt again in front of the toilet. She felt strong hands, which she recognized as Anthony's, caress her face before grabbing her hair.

"Oh, Anthony…" she moaned in discomfort. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Hey, none of that. Come here, love." he comforted, helping turn her around and supporting her against the wall when she was finished. He took a towel and started wiping her mouth.

When Y/n had the strength to open her eyes, she saw her husband's face analyzing her closely, looking for anything that could be wrong. The concern that swam in his eyes made her raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, and he turned slightly to be able to give her a lingering kiss on her palm.

"How are you feeling? I'm going to call the doctor. Are you okay with staying with one of the maids until I get back?"

Y/n held his arm, preventing him from getting up. "No, please don't go. I'm alright now. If this continues, I promise you can call the doctor, this is probably an one time thing. Let's not worry about it."

Anthony sighed, locked in a staring contest with the most important woman in his life. Accepting defeat, but with a serious look that screamed that if that happened again she would see a doctor, the Viscount picked up Y/n, carrying her to their bed.

Laying her down gently and helping Y/n take off her dress, the man pulled the covers up, making sure she was comfortable. Afterwards, he took off his shirt and pants, lying down next to her.

"What are you doing? We can't be in bed already, especially you. It's only morning, we still have many obligations to fulfill."

"No. My wife is not feeling well, and I'm going to take care of her. The paperwork can wait, as well as all my meetings. I just want you to be healthy." Anthony brought her closer to him, Y/n resting her head on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. "Now, sleep. You need it."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It happened again. More specifically, two more times Y/n threw up her meals. The first time, she was alone and not wanting to worry anyone, she preferred to remain silent. After all, she could still be recovering from some kind of illness. The second time, it was in the presence of her most trusted maid, who she considered a friend, Joanne. And so she begged her not to tell the Bridgerton man about it, claiming she would see someone.

Alone, because in addition to feeling sick, she also realized that her period, which was always regular, should have already arrived. Her first thought was that she was pregnant. But upon thinking better, she questioned this possibility. After so many years of trying and failing, why would she be pregnant now? There must be another explanation.

However, she did not share these possibilities with Anthony because the last thing she wanted was to give him hope only to end up disappointed with her inability to give him a heir. Fortunately, Joanne accompanied her, helping Y/n explain to the doctor why the Viscount wasn't there with her.

And when she left that office, she could feel her legs losing strength. She placed a hand on her chest, starting to find it difficult to breathe in completely, still shocked by what the doctor had said to her.

Pregnant.

She was carrying Anthony's child in her womb, something they thought to be impossible. She was going to be a mother. Even though Anthony always assured her that he was completely happy with just her, Y/n knew that he would love being a father. At the beginning of their marriage, he had revealed to her that he dreamed of their family, their chhildren running through the garden while he chased after them and Y/n watched while sitting under the shade, her hand on her swollen belly.

And, by a miracle, this dream could become reality.

"Lady Bridgerton, are you ready to return to the mansion?" Joanne questioned after Y/n sat down in the carriage, her hands shaking together in her lap. Her gaze was understanding, in case she needed a few more moments alone to process this, but her lips held a small smile.

"I'm going to be a mother." she whispered.

"A wonderful, beautiful mother, I'm sure. Congratulations, Lady Bridgerton." she smiled, feeling enormous happiness for Y/n. She knew how much the couple had suffered. "Shall we return?"

Y/n nodded, no longer trusting her voice to speak. The woman took advantage of the short trip to process everything that was happening and before she knew it she was already in front of Anthony's office door.

With barely controlled excitement, she knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter. When she heard Anthony's voice, she timidly opened the door, seeing that her husband was gathered with his brothers.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't know your brothers were here. I can come back later."

"Nonsense, love. They can just leave." Anthony said, leaning back in his chair and opening his arms, an invitation for Y/n to come to him. The man, after already having Y/n in his arms, looked at Benedict and Collin, who were looking at him with a smirk. "Did you not hear? I told you to leave."

"Anthony, be nice!"

"It's not a problem, Y/n, we know when we are not wanted. Come on, Benedict, let's leave the lovebirds alone." Collin teased, getting up with his brother and leaving the room, but first, he took Y/n's hand and brought it to his lips. Benedict, for instance, kissed her cheek in a brotherly way. Despite their farewell with Y/n, Anthony was completely ignored by his brothers.

"Did you need something?" the man asked, putting all of his attention on Y/n, who began to fidget with her fingers nervously.

"Actually, I have to tell you something. I went to the doctor today…"

"What? Y/n, why didn't you tell me? Did you feel bad again? Nauseous? What did the doctor say? Are you okay?"

"Calm down, my love. I'm better than fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being sick again, but I didn't want to worry you." she admitted, feeling guilty that Anthony was feeling precisely what she didn't want. "Well, I received some very interesting news."

"Please, just tell me what's wrong. I can't bear not knowing if something is wrong with you." he muttered with a pained look, as if he felt physical pain when thinking about the possibility of Y/n being hurt or unwell.

"Anthony…" she said his name with so much love that he shuddered. "I'm pregnant."

A silence formed in the room. Anthony took so long to react, just looking at her intensely as if he didn't know what was true or not, that Y/n began to feel worry invade her system. Was he not happy? Did he not want a child with her anymore?

"W-What?" Anthony finally managed to whisper, his heart having stopped as soon as he heard those words. "You're pregnant? With my child?"

"Well, obviously." Y/n rolled her eyes. "Are you happy?"

"Happy? My love, I'm more than happy. I love you so much. And I love our child too." the man kissed her fiercely, needing to convey all his love and adoration for her in that kiss.

He was addicted to his wife's lips, and now that he knew she was carrying his child, something animalistic was released inside him. Without giving any warning, he grabbed Y/n and twirled her around, without ever taking his lips off hers. Even so, Y/n giggled against them, circling her hands around his neck and holding on tight.

When her feet touched the floor, the Viscount knelt in front of her, his hands resting hesitantly on her stomach. He looked at Y/n in permission, who just nodded in encouragement and placed her hand on his brown hair, stroking his scalp.

Very gently, Anthony kissed his wife's still flat stomach. "Hello, you. I'm your father and I love you and your mother very much. You two are my entire life."

And the two stayed like that for the rest of the day, moving to the bedroom where Anthony continued to talk to Y/n's belly while exchanging passionate kisses with her. A beautiful new stage had begun in their lives, and they couldn't wait to meet their heir.

[mrsbarnesblog]

just a friend

masterlist

requests are open

summary: your best friend gets jealous when he sees you talking to some random guy at his party

words count: 3k

warnings: +18❗️smut, swearing, p in v sex, protected sex, friends to lovers, possessive but softie Rafe, dirty talk, pet names

You were standing near the kitchen island, far away from everybody else, sipping on your drink and observing Rafe. The loud music busted through the speakers, there were too many unknown faces and for the hundredth time wished you had stayed at home. 

Rafe was sitting on the couch in the middle of the room with Kelse, Topper, a few other guys, and, most importantly, some random girl. She was way too touchy for your liking and it honestly seemed like she was ready to get into his pants in front of everyone. 

Rafe didn't pay much attention, though, even while she was rubbing his pants-covered thigh and saying something in his ear. No, Rafe was too interested in the conversation with his friend, but it didn't stop that nasty and overwhelming feeling of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.

You and Rafe have been friends for almost three years, but it didn't seem like it. While you had neved crossed the invisible line, unknowningly for each other you both admitted to yourself that whatever was going on in between you two was not a regular friendship. Friends shouldn't sleep in each other's beds. Friends shouldn’t spend that much time together alone. Friends shouldn't be jealous every single time someone talks to their friend. And friends shouldn't be in love. 

Yet, here you were. 

You were staring at this scene for at least fifteen minutes and it drove you fucking insane. Especially the fact that Rafe had never let any man even talk to you, not to mention be all up in your face. It was so unfair that he had double standards for you and that he probably didn't even realize your feelings for him. 

Rafe was just too overprotective and possessive and you had to admit the ugly truth to yourself that it wasn't because he was in love with you. 

You finished your drink, wincing at the taste of alcohol, and straightened, looking across the room full of people. There were too many guys; you spotted the one that looked kind of attractive and moved in his direction. You were done with Rafe’s bullshit. If he could have girls all over himself, so could you. 

“Hey.” You tapped on the guy’s shoulder to grab his attention. He became flirty way too quickly, stepping closer to you and giving his best smirk, yet your eyes were still drifting back to Rafe. 

You saw the exact moment when your best friend noticed your current company. You and Ed were chatting for no more than five minutes, and while he was talking about it being his plans for the night, you saw Rafe getting up from the couch with a frown on his face. He quickly crossed the room, not bothering to check on the girl who was trying to get his attention over the loud music, or say even say something to his friends. 

“What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed even more, his eyes going up and down the guy near you. 

“I’m talking, Rafe. Go back to your company.” You rolled your eyes, looking back at Ed. “So what were you saying? Your frie—” 

“You’re coming with me, Y/N.” Before you could even say anything, you were dragged away to the second floor, where no one could bother you. “What the fuck was that, huh? I told you like a million fucking times to not talk to the guys at these damn parties; they're goin’ to hurt you.” Rafe freed your hand, pacing in front of you and running his own hand through his hair. He was visibly annoyed and pissed, and with the way he was acting, you wanted to push his buttons even more.

"You are my friend, Rafe, and you have no fucking right to tell me who I can and cannot speak to or go out with!" You shouted back, not even in the slightest fear of the flames in his eyes, when his head snapped back towards you. 

"Whether you like it or not, Y/N, I am not going to let any fuckers with bad intentions get near you."  

"Apparently, they are the only ones who are interested in me. You seem to be always busy with all the girls who are ready to climb you.” You laughed even though it hurt you to say it out loud. “I'm sick of your double standards, Rafe. You think I want to look at you with some random girls? You think it’s okay to scare guys away from me and then casually let everyone be all over you?” 

“What the fuck does that mean? You know I am not dating anyone. They can do whatever they want because I have no plans with any of them." He rolled his eyes, already irritated that he was actually fighting with you for the first time. But there was no going back and you both felt it. The constant tension and secret feelings were overflowing and they had to find a way out. “You’re acting like a child, swear to god, babe.”

“Because you're giving me mixed signals and confusing me!” You stepped closer, pointing a finger at his chest. 

“You know the reason why I do this.” Rafe grabbed your wrist, slightly pulling you closer. Your eyes locked on each other, and your faces were so close that you could smell liquor his his breath. You felt the way your stomach dropped when Rafe’s eyes quickly felt to your lips, yet you were still filled with anger. 

"No, I don't! You’re giving me hope on something, you’re being affectionate with me, we’re spending all our time together, but then you just step back as if it was nothing! Just stop playing with my feelings and tell the fucking tr—-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, your body got pushed back and pressed in between the wall and Rafe’s body. His grip on your face was firm yet gentle enough to not hurt you when he brought you closer to him and finally kissed you.

You both moaned into the kiss as if you were surprised and content that it had finally happened. Rafe’s lips moved quickly, easily dominating over you, as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for permission to slip in. 

“I’m just a friend, huh? You’re driving me fucking insane. You’re mine, don’t you understand it?” He mumbled against your mouth, sliding one hand down your body and at the same time pushing his legs in between your thighs. He just simply wanted to pin you against the wall, but the way his thigh pressed into your pulsing core made you both hiss. “Do you really think I would let anyone kiss you? Touch you? I’m selfish, Y/N, and I don’t like to share anything or anyone.” You felt as if you were high or drunk with the way your body reacted to Rafe’s touches, trying to concentrate on his words but actually only wishing his lips to get back on yours. 

“You let them touch you. That girl was all over you today, and you did nothing to prevent it.” You breathed into his lips, feeling a lazy smirk stretching across his own. Rafe leaned in again, pressing a few quick, wet kisses to your mouth and wrapping one hand harder around your body.

“She was fucking annoying and I tried to get her off of me. I don’t need any of them. My eyes have always been on you. I swear.” Rafe’s hands tugged on your dress, sliding it higher to have more access to your body. “Holy shit, Y/N. I don't know how I was able to be friends with you for so long. I want you so bad.” 

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, when Rafe’s lips slid down the side of your neck, leaving soft bites and reddish marks. Your own hands reached under his t-shirt, touching his firm abs and scratching his tanned skin until he moaned into your mouth. 

“I was scared to make a move. To scare you away. But you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I cannot pretend to be only your friend." His hands were sliding up and down your thighs, bringing you closer and not pulling his face away from your neck. Your scent has always driven him insane and he couldn’t have enough of you. “Do you feel it? Do you feel how hard you make me, Y/N?” His hands tugged your hips closer, until his bulge was firmly pressing into your leg.  

“Rafe…” You whined, your hips moving on his thigh, which was still pressed in between your legs. The feeling of your underwear getting wetter by the second made you wonder if Rafe could feel it through his pants. “Y-you know that everyone thinks that we’re sleeping together, right?”

“I think we shouldn’t disappoint them, hm?” You felt a smile spreading across his lips and you giggled back at him. Your hands are now tagging the annoying piece of fabric that hid his body from you, not even caring about people that might go to the second floor of Cameron’s house and catch you.

You managed to drag the t-shirt off of Rafe, your mouth instantly getting watery with the image in front of you. Sure, you saw Rafe shirtless countless times at the beach, but knowing that you could shamelessly do whatever you wanted made your whole body tingle. 

“Fuck that.” Before you even knew it, Rafe’s hands easily lifted you up, making your legs automatically wrap around his body. His lips met yours again, and he started blindly moving towards his bedroom. 

Your body bounced on the way-too-soft and way-too-expensive mattress of his king-size bed as he threw you there and went to lock the door. Rafe followed you shortly after, too desperate to keep touching you. His hands slid up your bare thighs, going past the strings of your panties, pushing your dress until it was gathered around your waist. 

“Can I take it off?” He looked at you, his eyes surprisingly soft and completely different from what you'd expected. You just simply nodded, lifting your hands in the air, until the only real item of clothing was taken off you and thrown somewhere in the room. 

Rafe’s eyes took every inch of your exposed skin, his hands gently sliding down your sides. You were only dressed in a simple black set, but for Rafe, it was the sexiest thing in the world. 

He wanted you for so long. Just looking from afar, he was trying to restrict himself from getting closer to you because he had always thought that you deserved someone better. But at the same time, who could treat you better than him? Only Rafe knew everything that you liked and needed, and he was willing to give it to you. 

“You’re so pretty, for fuck’s sake. I’ll be careful with you.” Rafe's body covered yours, his soft lips kissing your neck and going all the way down to your belly, making you gasp. You buried your hands in his hair, moving it away from his face. “I’ll take care of you. I promise I won’t fuck this up.” He looked up at you with his baby blues, and your whole body got covered in goosebumps from the look in his eyes. 

“Please, Rafe.” You whispered, taking his face into your hands and dragging him back on top of you. You two could not stop moaning as your hands began to explore each other's bodies and your lips met once more in a passionate kiss. “I want you.”

“Baby… Can’t even imagine what you’re doing to me.” He groaned against your mouth. The position that you were currently in, with Rafe comfortably in between your slightly spread legs, made his pants-covered erection perfectly press into your dump panties. “Need to be inside of you or else you’ll make me cum in my pants.” 

It became a mess of tugging on each other's clothes while trying to have as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. When you were both naked, Rafe slowed down, holding your face with one firm hand. “Is it really what you want to do? ‘Cause I won’t go back to pretending to be friends anymore.”  

“Just fuck me already, Cameron.” You whispered, not breaking intense eye contact. 

“As you wish, sweetheart.” With these words, Rafe pulled back to reach the nightstand and take a condon. He carelessly threw it near your exposed body and took a few seconds to finally admire your naked form. 

You were basically inviting him to do whatever he wanted with your slightly spread legs, which let him see how wet you already were. That pleading look on your face didn’t help the situation either, making Rafe want to fuck you dumb until his name was the only thing on your mind. 

He looked you up and down a few times before leaning forward, pressing your legs closer to your chest. Rafe’s calloused hands reached to your sensitive breasts, touching nipples with his thumbs, until your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Are you ready for me, or do you want me to eat you out first, hm?” His soft breath on the side of your neck sent shievers down your body. As much as you wanted to feel his lips on you, it felt like you could not think straight without his dick stretching you out, so you helplessly shook your head. 

“Next time, please. I need you now.” 

He gave you a sly smile and, in a single motion, ripped off the foil, rolled a condom over his throbbing cock, and placed himself at your entrance. You squirmed at the feeling of his tip going up and down your wet slit, gathering your juices and stimulating your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, so you’re soakin’ my sheets, baby.” He smirked, looking down at your pussy and teasing you more, until a moan of his name escaped from your mouth. “Keep your legs here, okay? ‘N I’ll take care of you.” 

When you felt Rafe's cock slide into you, your eyes flattered before closing completely. It was big. It was bigger than you had ever had before, but it seemed like your body quickly adjusted to him as soon as he bottomed out. With one hand near your head to hold himself up and the other one on your leg, he slowly started moving in and out. 

“Rafe!” You squeaked, digging your nails into your thighs and trying to control yourself.

“Sh-h, ‘s okay. Knew this pussy was made for me, babe.” He moaned through gritted teeth, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts. Soon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with muffled moans and Rafe’s praises. His bed was making a noise with every movement, and if you hadn't been too lost in the pleasure, you would’ve thought about other people hearing you. Rafe could not take his gaze away from your face—the way you tried to control yourself but soon lost it when his cock touched that sensitive spot inside of you. Your glossy eyes, hot skin and puffy lips made him go feral, fucking you harder into the matress of his bed.

“That’s right, scream my name. Made ya go dumb for my cock, huh?” He watched in awe at the way you were going insane under him; your release was visibly getting closer with every thrust. You moan even louder, feeling a tight knot form in your lower stomach, and the feeling gradually increased when the base of his cock brushed over your clit. “Squeezin’ me so tight. My good girl... fuck, baby. That’s right, cum for me. I’ve got you.” 

Rafe grabbed both of your hands, showing you to put them around his neck. It made your legs fall from the previous position and you weakly put them around his waist. Rafe finally lowered his face closer to you, catching your lips in a wet and sloppy kiss, still pounding into you roughly and steadily. 

“I-I can’t, Rafe, please!”

You particularly breathe the same air, moan into each other’s mouths, hooded eyes locked on when the orgasm washes over you almost simultaneously. Without even realizing it, you dragged your nails down Rafe’s sweaty back, leaving red marks that he will proudly show off tomorrow. His hips slowly pushed into you while you were still pulsating around his cock, enjoying your own release. Just the feeling of your pussy milking him could’ve made him cum again. 

“Rafe…” You whisper, your eyes now closed and your head feeling all fuzzy and warm. Rafe slowly slipped out of you, walking away to throw out a condom. You whined at the empty feeling and the coldness that the lack of his touch had brought. 

“‘M right here, baby. You did amazing.” As he came back on top of you, now wearing boxers, he placed kisses on the heated skin of your neck, his hand sliding down your side to soothe the aching muscles of your legs. “My pretty girl... Gosh, now I’m not letting you go. Like ever.” 

You giggle, draping your arms over his shoulders and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So all I had to do was talk to some random guy for you to get all angry and kiss me?” 

“Don’t remind me of that. I just realised that I might actually lose you.” Rafe whispered the last part, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist until there was no space left between your naked bodies. 

“You won’t lose me, I promise.” You hugged him back, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell into the room, until you both fell asleep in each other's arms. 

[heytherelysia]

hello, i really enjoyed your work so far & i saw that your reqs are open! i was wondering if you could do ayato aishi x gn reader who is anxious and dependent? reader is almost like a sheep, following the crowd and attaching themself to their friends. thank you and i hope you have a lovely day/night 🤍

ayato aishi x anxious + dependent reader

you guys don't know how happy i get when i see requests 😭 good crumbs anon! as much as i like an independent reader who knows how to stand up for themselves, there's a special spark in a reader who is very reliant on others and in any way fragile. you guys have a lovely day too!

gn reader, not proofread, alludes to kidnapping, pretty tame for the most part.

you never shared a glanced at each other, not even once, but he was hooked on you when you accidentally spilled your drink on one of the delinquents.

"oh no... i'm sorry i'm sorry! i- ...please forgive me."

it was distressing. you didn't mean to be such a klutz, especially in front of a crowd of people, and now you got into such a mess with one of the delinquents.

the way he looks at you with annoyance, not even bothering to say a word. you know he's mad, rightfully so.

"i'm sorry... i'll buy you another uniform if you want..."

"don't bother. how do i know you won't dirty the uniform when you can't even hold your drink correctly and look where ya going? now move outta the way."

your friends help you stand up as the delinquents pass you by. by the time you look up, you no longer see the crowd of eyes that was practically shooting daggers at you. they continue their mindless conversations before your accident. although embarrassing yourself made a stain in your reputation, it's refreshing that an ocean of eyes is no longer staring right through you. you'll worry about the gossips regarding your clumsiness later.

much to your dismay, gray eyes were observing you the entire time. there was no spark in their eyes since the moment of their birth, they had no soul, they had no purpose, but to be a functioning citizen, when they are just flesh and meat without a sense of mind.

but you helped them. you helped them gain the spark in their eyes, you helped them become their own person, and you helped them find their purpose in life. you've done it all without ever acknowledging them.

ayato snaps out of it when your friends start to escort you away from the scene, rubbing your back and shoulders.

the apologies emitted from your mouth, your hands you were playing with in pure anxiety, your shivering body. he wants it all, he wants all that you can ever give him.

your sheepish personality does not benefit you, but it gives all the pros to ayato. he loved it when your breathing went stiff when he went up to you to say hi.

you've always needed company. wherever there is a crowd, you'll squeeze yourself in, just as long as they don't look at you like you have murdered a family of seven.

but ayato was an unusual company.

at first, it seems like he was just walking past the hall until his feet stops by the bench you're sitting on.

ayato aishi, he is commonly praised for his mother's victory in court when she was accused of murder and the disappearance of five girls. even so, he is still an average student, he hasn't done anything extravagant himself, unless we're talking about his effort to learn everything about you.

"hi."

he's... straight to the point. you try to at least look at him, but you are quick to look away when you see that his face is barely an inch away from you.

"...oh! uh... hi!" you're looking at everything but his face, he just won't stop staring.

he loves it when you're anxious, trembling, jittery and all. but he wishes that you could look at him again more thoroughly, like he is an art piece at a museum.

the next thing you know, he is walking away as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a smirk. oddly enough, you maintain eye contact with him until he eventually disappears down the hall.

he never talked to you again after the interaction but something always feels like it's watching you.

one thing that he does not like about you is that you surround yourself with familiar faces and rely on your closest companions. it makes it difficult for him to stalk you without alarming anyone. and with the other, it's rather a jealousy thing of his. one day, when he gets you all to himself, you will depend your very existence to him. rest assured, he'll take care of you, cook you delicious food, and shower you with praise. none of your friends are able to give you what he can, he is special, as he likes to think.

(bonus!) "ayato's darling shrine"

portrait — a photo of my darling watching the sunset. they look a thousand times more beautiful.

broken earphones — my darling threw this away on their way home. i wish we can listen to music together with these headphones.

gel pen — darling's favorite pen. they were upset when they lost it, i almost wanted to give it back to them.

crumpled paper — scrapped essay for their research. they forgot to throw it in the trash out of stress. their handwriting is cute, should i write them letters one day?

...

i loved writing this °՞(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞°

[some-stars]

god you know what i want? i want fic where vanessa is jealous of logan. and she knows it's stupid and unfair, because she doesn't even want to get back together with wade. what they had is over and they're both different people now and she can't live with that kind of constant background fear anymore...but it's the first time she's had to actually see wade be in love with someone else, and it stings.

because yeah, obviously she still loves him. if she could press a magic button and make herself invulnerable to gunshot wounds and erase the last six years of wade pushing her away and self-destructing until she had to remove him from her life because it just fucking hurt too much to stay...she's not completely sure if she would, but she'd give it some serious consideration, because she was happier with wade than she'd ever been with anyone else before. and even if she's found someone new, that kind of once in a lifetime lightning in a bottle, you can never really recapture it. they were special to each other.

or at least, she thought they were. but now wade watches logan unloading the dishwasher with that same dopey soft gaze he used to turn on her after sex, or when she was putting on her makeup and he'd sit on the toilet to keep her company, or just when they were watching tv and she glanced over and caught him mooning over her.

and she knows it's stupid, bitter, unkind, unhelpful to want that look all to herself when she's the one who told him no, more than once. especially when she is genuinely, with her whole heart so happy that wade is happy again, finally, whole and himself and alive again. she shouldn't want anything else besides that. but she can't help it.

idk, i guess i've just read one too many scenes where she nudges them towards each other benevolently, which is not like, inherently a bad thing to write. but she was so fucking in love with him too, you know? she wanted a family with him. she wanted forever. and maybe that doesn't just go away.

[ace-sher-bi-john]

While I absolutely love both BBC Sherlock and Sherlock & Co, Sherlock & Co definitely depicts a more healthy relationship between Sherlock and John.

For starters, on BBC Sherlock, Sherlock and John are both co-dependent on each other. John was implied to be suicidal before he met Sherlock. Sherlock relapses without John by his side. Even with Mary to substitute the void in his heart and help him find purpose again, John would never move on from Sherlock. If anything happened to John, it wouldn't end well for anyone, especially Sherlock.

On Sherlock & Co, one of John's only problems after returning home from Ukraine was that he couldn't afford a flat on his own. He seemed to be very excited about life, going on dates, couldn't wait to start his podcast. He was genuinely happy to see Mike.

Sherlock could easily manage on his own without John. He doesn't need to be reminded to eat, he doesn't need an assistant for cases, he doesn't need someone to take care of him. His only problem is that he needs a flatmate.

Although John and Sherlock both need each other to afford rent, they don't need each other for anything else. They want each other's company, they don't need it. They aren't two halves of a whole, they are two wholes coming together. That's how it should be with all healthy relationships, platonic, romantic, queerplatonic, or otherwise.

It also helps a lot that Sherlock isn't a complete jerk on Sherlock & Co. He genuinely treats John and everyone else with a kindness that while I believe BBC Sherlock is capable of it, he rarely showed it. When John's PTSD is triggered, Sherlock asks John if he'd rather sit out that case. He then asks John if he wants to hold hands and discuss his feelings. In part one of the Blue Carbuncle, Sherlock complimented, actually complimented John. That kind of scene just never happened on BBC Sherlock. John was doing his "That was fantastic! You're amazing!" and Sherlock said, "You flatter me, Watson. But you did awesome too! You should have seen the way you did that! It was brilliant!"

John seems like a much more well rounded happy person in general. Just listen to any of his viewer discretion warnings. "Greetings you handsome devil! This episode will contain a bit of the old swearing, a bit of violence, some drug use. Oh and a bit of duck poo!" I hate to make this comparison, due to how much it will sound like an insult. But he acts like the quirky Disney Princess personality that every Disney Princess from the 2010s has and I mean that in the best possible way. It's my favorite thing about him. He's so adorable.

In the Blue Carbuncle, John has a moment similar to ones that you've seen many times before on BBC Sherlock. John has plans that mean he won't be able to help with the case. He is going to Berlin to spend Christmas with his old army friends. It's going to be his first boys' trip in years. But then he gets so sucked into the case that he's almost late for his plane and decides to just stay with Sherlock anyway because the case is just so fascinating he can't leave. On BBC Sherlock, John has abandoned his plans, his job, his girlfriends, for a case because he couldn't stand to be without Sherlock for so long. Also because Sherlock would often crash is dates, ruin his relationships, just so that John could assist him on cases. On Sherlock & Co, Sherlock was happy for John that he was going out with friends, even though it would mean spending the holidays alone. And Sherlock LOVES Christmas, so it's sad to think that he would have to spend it alone.

Where BBC Sherlock would manipulate or guilt John into staying, Sherlock & Co Sherlock let John go and was genuinely fine with going it alone for a week or two, even if it meant being all alone on Christmas.

I love BBC Sherlock, toxic co-dependent relationships and all, and I always will. But Sherlock & Co gives a little something different and I am happy that my boys are happier.

SH: *laughing* What's so funny Watson? JW: *laughing* It's just hearing you say "bell end" SH: Lovely and jubbly

[terry-perry]

https://www.tumblr.com/terry-perry/758497780110082048/minding-ones-business

so husk knew what Alastor and Carmine!Reader was real? We need to see this for ourselves! Can I request that please? Like Husk watching the couple being all sweet one night and realizing this was true love his boss was experiencing ❤️

Alastor x Y/N Carmine aka Hell's Cutest Couple

I based this imagine on one of my favorite moments from Lucifer, another show about Hell and redemption that occasionally involves a musical number!

As long as he knew him, Husk never thought his boss to be the sentimental type or even what some would consider romantic. Alastor might've been from the Jazz Age, music people loved to use to set the mood and express emotions that regular words can't, but he wouldn't be considered friend material, let alone more-than-friend material. Yet Husk was now witness to him sitting by the grand piano he conjured up in the hotel's parlor to give a small performance to Y/N Carmine, who watched on fondly from the couch and occasionally closed her eyes to take in the melody he played for her.

It was indeed a bizarre sight, but not an unwanted one. Especially since the more the pair invested in each other's company, the more Alasotr and Y/N forgot about Husk being there. They'd since stopped going to the bar to freshen up their drinks and focused more on enjoying each other. He wondered if he could attempt to slip away to his room, but he didn't want to risk it if Alastor was just trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Also, the scene before him seemed too surreal to look away from.

He chose to stay and continued to bear witness to the couple. Alastor had since stopped playing, which led to Y/N clapping cheerfully for his performance and him looking at her with a mix of amusement at her bubbly enthusiasm and tenderness. Still seated at the piano, he held his hand out for her to take. She walked over and took it as he gently sat her beside him.

"Do you play?" Alastor asked then, his eyes never leaving her even as she hesitantly looked away.

"Hardly," she scoffed in embarrassment. "Nothing like you." She stretched out her fingers and gave them a dramatic wiggle before she set them to her desired keys. "After some lessons, my mother spent an embarrassing amount of money on, this is all I remember-"

Suddenly, a simpler tune filled the room as Y/N played a basic version of Heart and Soul on the piano, which only had her playing one key at a time. It was still lovely to hear, and Husk gave a small smile despite himself, and Alastor let out a chuckle that tangled with his radio static. What came next was just as endearing as Alastor joined Y/N's playing by adding a complex rhythm that complimented her basic chords. The result was a sweet rendition of Heart and Soul, where the couple kept playing for the next two minutes.

Husk enjoyed the melody. As he opened his eyes to watch the show, he noticed that Charlie and Vaggie dropped in and saw everything from the second floor. The princess practically had hearts surrounding her as she observed Alastor and Y/N, and Vaggie smiled faintly. Husk paid them no mind, however, since all he could do was notice how his boss had yet to look away from Y/N, continuing to stare at her in a daze without a note of his usual smugness. Alastor looked at her delighted presence with a softness that was quite out of character for the Radio Demon.

It was so out of character that it was almost...pure. It was as though Y/N's lovely presence made Alastor rethink his intentions, so they were more tailored to keep her around for as long as she'd have him and not just until he grew bored of her.

Alastor needed her since she already had his heart and soul.

[jermer10]

Yandere Scout with a civilian reader?

TF2 yandere scout x civilian reader

18+ only, gn reader | yandere scout my beloved

tw: yandere themes, stalking, graphic depictions of violence, non-consensual sexual activity

drabbles under the cut :P

Being the 10th class, 'The Civilian', you’re someone different, special in a way that the others aren't

You work behind the scenes, cleaning up the battlefield after each fight, being escorted from point A to B with sensitive information by whichever team had you for that week

Thus, Scout quickly becomes fixated, convinced that he’s the only one who can understand and protect you

His mind is always on you. During missions, downtime, and even in the middle of conversations with the team, you occupy his every thought

He imagines every scenario where he’s the one protecting you, keeping you safe, and, most importantly, keeping you his

Scout makes it a point to always know where you are, even when you think you’re alone he's there, watching from the shadows

You might think you hear footsteps behind you or feel eyes on you, but every time you look, no one's there, you start to spiral into a paranoid mess

Scout steps in as your personal confidant, gaslighting you into believing you're having some sort of stress related psychotic episode

His stalking becomes more brazen over time, but he always plays it off like it’s no big deal

Scout’s obsession with you knows no boundaries - most nights he sneaks into your room and watches you sleep (and yes, he touches himself to you)

He’s careful not to wake you, his eyes scanning every detail, convinced that no one else could ever appreciate you the way he does

Escalated from jerking off behind you, to rubbing his cock on your lips, to using your thighs as a fleshlight

He intentionally cums on pieces of clothing from your closet, he doesn't care if you notice, if you take them to Medic for analysis - the samples always seem to go missing anyway

Some nights he drugs you with the intention of actually fucking you, but he can never work up the courage, wanting to save your first time together for when you're officially his

His biggest fantasy is having you beg for him, he wants you to obsess over him in the way he does to you

He hates when anyone else talks to you, especially if you seem to enjoy their company

If another mercenary spends too much time around you, Scout gets jealous and finds ways to interrupt - whether it’s a poorly timed joke, pretending to need something urgently, or picking a fight with them, he won’t stop until they leave you alone

Scout likes to take little items as trophies or souvenirs, something to remind him of you when you’re not around (often repeatedly cumming on the items - marking his territory)

He feels entitled to your personal space and has no qualms about going through your things when you’re not there, sitting so close to you he's basically on top of you, hugging you and touching you without asking

If you ask for space or mention feeling uncomfortable he stops talking to you for days, making threatening and suicidal comments when you're in earshot

Eventually you apologize to him, and he makes sure you know how happy he is that you've "come to your senses"

"I dunno why you'd even think somethin' as stupid as that in the first place, I don't make ya uncomfortable, you're probably just feelin' totally flattered, babe! It's okay, sometimes I can't tell the difference either."

His obsession escalates into paranoia - he becomes convinced that everyone around you is trying to take you away from him

Even innocent interactions are blown out of proportion in his mind, and he’ll go to great lengths to ensure no one gets too close

He will sabotage others’ efforts to spend time with you, spreading rumors or even manipulating situations so that they’re pushed out of your life

It seems like everyone has picked up on his irrational behaviour except you, and god help the soul who tries to warn you, so they stay away and hope that his "crush" passes

If he feels like you’re pulling away or that someone else is threatening his claim on you, he might snap

In a worst-case scenario, he could take matters into his own hands, kidnapping you and isolating you somewhere he believes no one can hurt you

To Scout, everything he’s doing is out of love - his intense possessiveness, his constant stalking, and even the lengths he’s willing to go to keep you close are all justified in his mind

[geotjwrs]

Can I request a platonic Jenna x male reader where r is a writer and like one of his screenplays like gets picked up and Jenna stars in it and they both realise each other are incvled in project and just a sweet look into their friendship?

invisible string

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

Y/N had always dreamt of becoming a screenwriter. From the days spent scribbling stories in his worn-out notebooks to the nights staying up late typing away on his laptop, he poured his heart and soul into every word. It was his passion, his escape, and now, finally, it seemed to be paying off. One of his screenplays had been picked up by a major production company. The excitement was overwhelming, but nothing prepared him for the shock of finding out who would be starring in his film: Jenna Ortega.

Jenna and Y/N had met a few years back at a film festival. They had hit it off immediately, bonding over their mutual love for cinema and storytelling. Despite their busy schedules, they had kept in touch, exchanging messages and occasionally catching up over coffee whenever they found themselves in the same city. Their friendship was a comforting constant in Y/N's ever-changing life.

When Y/N received the news, he couldn't believe his luck. He was both thrilled and nervous about the project, especially with Jenna being involved. He knew how talented she was, and having her bring his words to life was an incredible honor.

The first day on set was a whirlwind of activity. Crew members buzzed around, setting up equipment, adjusting lighting, and preparing for the day's shoot. Y/N arrived early, wanting to soak in every moment of this experience. As he walked onto the set, he spotted Jenna talking to the director. She looked radiant, her enthusiasm contagious as she animatedly discussed her character.

"Y/N!" Jenna called out, her face lighting up with a bright smile as she saw him.

"Jenna!" Y/N replied, grinning as he walked over to her.

They hugged tightly, both of them laughing with excitement. "I can't believe you're here!" Jenna exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "When they told me about the project, I had no idea it was your screenplay. This is amazing!"

"I know, right? It's like a dream come true," Y/N said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't wait to see you bring the character to life."

"Well, I promise to do your words justice," Jenna said, her tone sincere. "Your script is incredible, Y/N. It's one of the best I've read in a long time."

"Thank you, Jenna. That means a lot coming from you," Y/N replied, feeling a warm sense of pride.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N spent a lot of time on set, observing and learning. He was amazed at how Jenna immersed herself in her role, bringing depth and nuance to the character he had created. They often found themselves discussing scenes, bouncing ideas off each other, and refining the dialogue.

Their friendship deepened during this time, built on mutual respect and admiration. They shared countless moments of laughter, inside jokes, and even some late-night brainstorming sessions when inspiration struck. Jenna's dedication and talent inspired Y/N, and he felt grateful to have her as both a friend and a collaborator.

One evening, after a long day of shooting, Y/N and Jenna found themselves sitting on the steps of her trailer, sipping coffee and enjoying the cool breeze. The set was quiet, most of the crew having left for the day.

"You know," Jenna said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I'm really proud of you, Y/N. You've come a long way since we first met."

Y/N smiled, looking down at his coffee cup. "Thanks, Jenna. I couldn't have done it without your support."

Jenna nudged him playfully. "Don't sell yourself short. You've got talent, and you work hard. You deserve all the success that's coming your way."

"Well, it helps to have amazing friends like you," Y/N said, meeting her gaze.

They sat there for a while, enjoying each other's company and the sense of accomplishment that came with seeing their hard work come to fruition.

As the filming progressed, Y/N and Jenna continued to support each other, both on and off set. They celebrated the small victories, like nailing a difficult scene or receiving positive feedback from the director. They also leaned on each other during the tough times, offering encouragement and reassurance.

One particularly challenging day, when everything seemed to be going wrong, Jenna found Y/N sitting alone in a quiet corner of the set, looking stressed.

"Hey," she said softly, sitting down next to him. "You okay?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just feeling overwhelmed, I guess. It's a lot of pressure."

Jenna put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know it's tough, but you're doing an amazing job. Remember why you started this journey. Your passion and talent brought you here, and you've got a whole team behind you."

Y/N looked at her, feeling a surge of gratitude. "Thanks, Jenna. I needed that."

"Anytime," she replied with a warm smile. "We're in this together, remember?"

As the final days of shooting approached, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air. The cast and crew had become like a family, and it was hard to believe that their time together was coming to an end. On the last day of filming, emotions ran high as they wrapped up the final scene.

After the director called "Cut!" for the last time, there was a moment of silence before the set erupted into cheers and applause. Y/N felt a mix of relief, pride, and sadness as he looked around at the people who had brought his vision to life.

Jenna made her way over to him, her eyes shining with tears. "We did it," she said, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Yeah, we did," Y/N replied, his voice choked with emotion.

As they stood there, surrounded by their friends and colleagues, Y/N realized how much this experience had meant to him. Not just because of the success of his screenplay, but because of the incredible journey he had shared with Jenna. Their friendship had been a source of strength and inspiration, and he knew it would continue to be, no matter where their careers took them next.

In the weeks that followed, Y/N and Jenna kept in touch, their bond stronger than ever. They celebrated the film's success together, attending premieres and interviews, always supporting each other. Despite their busy schedules, they made time for their friendship, knowing how important it was.

One evening, as they sat on a rooftop terrace, looking out over the city lights, Jenna turned to Y/N with a thoughtful expression. "You know, this is just the beginning for you. I can't wait to see what you come up with next."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "And I can't wait to see you in your next role. You're going to keep amazing audiences, Jenna."

They clinked their glasses, toasting to the future and to their enduring friendship. As they sat there, talking and laughing, he would always have Jenna by his side.

And that, he realized, was the greatest gift of all.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 25.

Summary: Oliver, Farleigh, and matters of pride.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: non-graphic smut, implied noncon (the Oliver/Farleigh scene), manipulation.

A/N: 3085 words. i really didn't mean for this to be ANOTHER chapter about the henrys dinner however i thought it was important to get an Oliver POV regarding everything that happens between him and farleigh. this was meant to be longer and extend over several more days but i think i'd rather we follow reader for the fallout.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

You've been off all night. Oliver can tell you're trying to hide it, trying to mask your feelings with drinks and the company of the Catton siblings, but he's not blind to you, he never has been. Occasionally, from where he'd been observing the three of you, he sees your gaze land on Farleigh, sees the barest crease of your brow that everyone else seems to miss, and the way you always looked away. Never more than a moment spent on the likes of Farleigh Start.

The same man you seemed to otherwise have all the time in the world for.

Something had happened, something he wasn't privy to, something that occurred in the time you and Farleigh were outside, and Oliver was otherwise occupied with Felix's kindness and attention.

While Oliver never wanted to see you upset, there was a quiet triumph in his chest upon witnessing the disconnect between yourself and Farleigh. Farleigh had tried to drive a wedge in your relationship with Oliver, but it seems as though it had backfired, despite you still believing him over Oliver's attempt at manipulating the truth. Small victories, Oliver thinks to himself.

Perhaps it was overconfidence that lead him to his seat beside Farleigh later that evening. Feeling tipsy and vindictive with his own conversation with you still playing on repeat in his mind, he humours Farleigh's game of 'Fuck, Chuck, or Marry' with the portraits, lets him press against Oliver's side as he murmurs almost knowingly about Richard III's insecurities would lead him to work harder in bed. Every word Farleigh has ever spoken to him after their very first meeting has always been so clearly deliberate and insidious; Oliver's wondering if he's projecting here, while trying once more to psych Oliver out.

But if Farleigh wants to play games, Oliver wants to win.

"Or you could just fuck me?" He offers, voice low, turning from the stern-faced portraits to Farleigh himself after a moment. Farleigh is rather beautiful when drunk in his own right and caught off-guard. There's something so deliciously tempting in his big, brown eyes, something suddenly dangerous about how close this beautiful boy was sitting in this moment. But he could never trust Farleigh's intentions, especially not now.

And clearly Farleigh didn't trust his either. Clever boy. Too clever for his own good.

"Why'd you tell Y/N about me and Venetia?" He asks plainly. Watching Farleigh's mind try to come up with a justification was fascinating; it seems even he knows that Oliver won't believe whatever lie he comes up with.

"Well, I didn't think they'd react that badly -"

"Yes, you did," Oliver cuts him off without a second of hesitation, and already Farleigh's lips are twisting into an amused smile, but Oliver's not done, "you knew they'd run right to Felix about it too, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," the look in Farleigh's eyes is far meaner than his sly smile, something unexpectedly sharp there. A nerve struck; what had you and he said to each other earlier? But Oliver keeps his façade up, lets his face drop; if Farleigh reads guilt in his disappointment, that's on him. For a moment, just a single moment, he thinks he can see a flicker of apology cross Farleigh's delicate features as Oliver sighs softly. His gaze drops.

"You know, if you ever wanna talk to anyone, you can talk to me, Farleigh," he offers softly, expression open and honest as he once more meets Farleigh's gaze. An imitation of an olive branch.

"What do you mean?" There it is, that distrustful look that Oliver had expected. Farleigh's well aware of how observant Oliver is, it wouldn't be a stretch for him to figure out he'd picked up on the tension between you and him, the wedge between supposed best friends. Oliver lets the unspoken implications alone apply pressure to that wedge for just a moment before he changes tact in his continued effort to disarm this man.

"Well, I know you're going through a hard time at home, I know how that feels," Oliver allows himself to be read as vulnerable in this moment, "when things are so precarious," he sighs deeply, gaze wandering as if lost in thought, and not carefully catalogues each minute change in Farleigh's expression, "it's terrifying... and lonely," and he meets Farleigh's almost disbelieving gaze. Farleigh was not so easily lead, it seemed, but the challenge of him is almost thrilling, "and it must be so fucking weird feeling like you have to ask them for everything," and your words about Farleigh's pride echo through Oliver's mind as he drops his gaze, "I know how demeaning it can feel."

A spark of recognition in Farleigh's eyes, something surprised and just a little pained for reasons even beyond Oliver, before they settle into something that almost looks like regret.

"And I know you fuckin' hate me -" Oliver starts, but suddenly the regret is no longer just in Farleigh's eyes, his whole expression softening for just a moment as he tries to deny it.

"I... I don't hate you," his voice is uncharacteristically sincere, as is the look in his eyes. Perfect. This is exactly where Oliver wants him. Despite his better instincts, Oliver wants to forge this connection, wants this common ground, needs Farleigh on side. Both of them love you and Felix; they're going to be in each other's lives whether they like it or not, and Oliver's fucking sick of fighting Farleigh on that at every turn.

"But," Oliver lets his tone soften to something sincere, as if to appreciate the admission before attempting to double down on this fragile moment of connection, "if you ever wanted me to talk to them to see if there's..." he sighs, searching for the right words to appear as earnest as he's able, "if I can help in any way..." Farleigh's too proud to ever ask, so Oliver knows he can't do any more than imply he should do as much. Instead, he adds, "even Y/N," for good measure.

Something shifts in Farleigh's expression, a hint of skepticism.

"Even Y/N?" But his tone is strange, unreadable, gaze still boring into Oliver's.

"I know they're too proud to offer," Oliver tells him with the faintest notes of sadness, "too afraid of sounding like their mum, but they love you," he watches the way pain momentarily flickers in Farleigh's eyes, "I can talk to them too."

He hopes Farleigh can hear the intention in his words; they all love you, so I'm willing to do right by you.

After a beat, Farleigh laughs softly, finally tearing his gaze from Oliver, the movement of his head too quick for Oliver to read his reaction properly. Alas, the moment is broken, Farleigh is standing, and Oliver just hopes his words have had their intended effect. At the very least, he's sure he's subtly needled Farleigh's insecurities enough for him to reconsider his ongoing cruelty towards Oliver.

Except in the next few moments, it's made clear that he'd pushed him too far. He doesn't trust the look in Farleigh's eyes as he's pulling Oliver up to sing whatever song he's chosen, but Oliver reluctantly goes along with it. There's alarm bells in the back of his head as he plays along, wanting to believe that this isn't some kind of trap, that this is really Farleigh trying to connect with him in some way.

Nervous with microphone in hand, he scans the room as the song's opening plays. The tightness in his chest eases when he spots Felix in the corner of the room by the bar cart with you and Venetia, smiling at him warmly, encouragingly. But only after he begins to sing does his gaze focus upon you, and his blood runs cold. Amid the cheering of the Catton siblings beside you, and the others around the room, you're not looking at Oliver, you're looking at Farleigh, and you're fucking furious.

But the song's begun now, even if he's not entirely listening to the lyrics, he can't stop in front of all these people, can he? But his attention turns back to the little screen and he reads the words as he sings, voice faltering -

"I love you-" oh. Farleigh really fucking hated him, "you pay my rent."

Farleigh cheers obnoxiously from the side of the room, and Oliver actually sees you make a start to move towards him, but Felix holds you back. The sight of your furious indignation on his behalf does little to ease the shame and embarrassment that flares up in him in this moment. All he can think to do is spitefully insist that Farleigh finish the song, that it's his song too after all, but Farleigh's high on the victory and completely without shame as he accepts his place in the spotlight.

All Oliver wants to do is just disappear, hot, angry tears pricking his eyes as he absconds through the nearest door. He needs to get out of this suffocating house, away from these entitled assholes, he needs fresh air -

"Ollie, mate -" he couldn't even hear Felix's footsteps running to catch up with him, only hearing him when his hand is on Oliver's shoulder, "that was fucked -"

"It's fine, Felix," Oliver tries to insist, even as Felix turns him around to face him.

"It's not fine, it was fucking cruel is what it was," Felix holds him steady by the shoulders, but Oliver just hangs his head. There's no way he's letting Felix see him cry over this, especially after he'd just bore witness to Farleigh's thorough public humiliation of him.

"I'll be fine, really, I just need some air and some space," Oliver reiterates, trying to step back. Felix lets him go; Oliver can almost picture his crestfallen look, but still doesn't have the nerve to look up.

"Ollie," Felix's voice is so soft, so apologetic. Oliver wants nothing more than to hold him tightly, hear him reassure that Farleigh was being a cunt and that no-one thinks of him like that, even if Oliver knows that it's not true, that you and Felix are the only ones that see him as anything more than just a pretty, little charity case. Felix would believe himself, though; he was far too earnest for the rest of his family half the time. It's one of the countless things he's come to love about Felix.

He takes another step back.

"I just need to be alone for a bit," Oliver's voice softens, fighting back the urge to sniffle, "I'll be fine, Felix, I promise."

"Will you come find me later? Please?"

Oliver has no idea what he's going to do in the next five minutes let alone beyond that. But he nods.

"Maybe," is what he says, "I promise I'll be okay; if I don't see you tonight, we'll still hang out tomorrow."

"Okay," Felix sounds almost disappointed, before he sighs deeply. His concern is quickly turning back to irritation as his thoughts seem to be returning to his cousin, "you know I love you, mate."

"I know," Oliver agrees, "love you too, Felix," and he walks away, because he knows Felix would wait in this moment forever if Oliver let him, unable to properly leave his clearly upset friend even if dismissed. A loyal dog in his own right when he wanted to be.

Sitting in the garden, Oliver's sense of shame crystalises into fury with each deep breath he takes. The absolute audacity of Farleigh to do that to him, and after all the trouble he's been causing you and Felix lately! Prideful prick.

So certain of his place in their lives, Oliver knew the only thing that would ever really matter to Farleigh is losing it. The cruelty was almost predictable at this point, Oliver's actually foolish to have not seen it coming. Oliver feels as though he should never have believed you for the supposed kindness you saw in Farleigh; like Felix you were too loving, too permissive for your own good sometimes. Honestly, Farleigh didn't even deserve your kindness, he thought ruefully.

Oliver couldn't say he hadn't at least tried diplomacy.

After the house had grown quiet and he was sure he wouldn't run into anyone, aside from that uncanny butler, though he seemed incredibly adept at ignoring the strangeness of Saltburn's youth, Oliver heads back to his room. The sound of Felix's door opening makes him start, and he ducks in quickly, closing the door over to avoid whoever it was who was leaving. He knew he was too full of rage to face yours or Felix's kindness in this moment. However, he's surprised to hear Venetia humming to herself, and to see her wearing your navy robe as she trots down the hall towards her own room. Not a second later, Oliver hears the shower on in the adjoining bathroom, and he closes the door, confused, wondering where Felix could have gotten to at the end of the night.

But considering Venetia only made his rage and guilt grow stronger in his gut. Another person who took you for granted, another person who felt entitled to your affection. As much as he tried, he couldn't get to sleep, and his eyes land on the dark shape of the book by his bedside. Saltburn: The Art of Saltburn House, The Catton Collection. It had been left undoubtably by you near the beginning of his stay, and had helped him ingratiate himself to Felix's father as he took an interest in the antiquities Farleigh had simply sneered at. The antiquities Oliver knew the exorbitant value of, and how much that money could theoretically mean to Farleigh, and a plan began to form.

Farleigh would never let him live this night down, Farleigh would never let him live this life with you both that Oliver craved so desperately. Farleigh would never let him live in peace, if he could help it. So Farleigh couldn't be allowed to live here.

Oliver is quick to find his way to Farleigh's room, stalking as quietly as he's able through the grand halls with furious intent. Each time he'd sought it out, you'd always been with Farleigh on the other side, lavishing the bastard with undeserved attention and pleasure. Sinking down, Oliver peers through the keyhole as he'd done time and again, but there's no silhouette of you against the night sky beyond Farleigh's window, just the man himself sleeping soundly.

Unlike you, Oliver does not know Saltburn well enough to slip through it silently, but Farleigh doesn't stir when the door creaks. Farleigh is beautiful and terrible, even as he sleeps.

Oliver had tried to play nice, Farleigh had left him no choice. He would take Farleigh's pride, and his precious place in this house whether he liked it or not.

It's almost disappointing how little of a challenge Farleigh poses. It's almost too easy to break him, to make him submit, to make him obedient. Despite the fact that he'd watched you do it, he hadn't realised how desperate Farleigh was to be under someone's thumb in moments like this, how quickly his resolve would crumble. Oh there's anger, there's push back, but it's a token effort at best. He snarls as Oliver rides him, digging his nails into Oliver's thighs hard enough to draw blood, but he still cums.

"You're fucking sick," he spits breathlessly, but he still has a hand on Oliver's cock, still let's Oliver's cum splatter across his chest without complaint before he shoves him off to clean himself off.

Are you going to behave? He must have Oliver's soft orders playing on repeat in his mind, because he doesn't even complain when he sees Oliver sitting on his bed when he gets back. His scowl is to be expected, but Oliver knows this is his victory, and that it won't be the last for tonight, as he'd already found Farleigh's phone on the windowsill. Opening the curtains, Farleigh cracks open the window before he lights a cigarette.

"You don't fucking love them," Farleigh doesn't even look at him, barking a soft, humourless laugh. Oliver freezes, his expression hard as he looks to Farleigh; his victory feels short-lived as the anger quickly returns at the accusation, "I told them you were just going to use them, and break their fucking hearts, and I was right."

"Watch yourself, Farleigh," Oliver warns sharply, voice low and dangerous.

"And the fucked up part is that if you were honest, they would have let you," Farleigh continues, sounding almost disgusted; with himself, with you and Felix, with Oliver, with the whole situation, "but now they think they're in love, and I just have to watch them crash and burn because of you," taking a long draft of his cigarette, he holds the smoke in his lungs before it spills out around his words, lip curling in derision, "you're a fucking black hole, Oliver."

Oliver watches him finish his smoke and close the window, drawing the blinds once again. He doesn't look at Oliver. He doesn't ask him to leave. He doesn't get it, so he's done with you all; he's broken, he behaves.

"Good night, Farleigh," Oliver says flatly as Farleigh stretches out on the bed beside him, on his side, back to Oliver.

"For the record," Farleigh bites out quietly, "I do hate you." As if it wasn't abundantly clear already. But Oliver remains quiet, despite the absolute outrage Farleigh's words had sparked inside him.

Everything he was doing, he did because he loved you and Felix. Everything.

Laying still and quiet beside Farleigh, he gazes up at the roof, trying to keep his breathing even, listening to Farleigh's own as it grew slow and deep, and Oliver was sure he was asleep. Giving it just a bit more time to make sure, he sits up carefully, making sure not to jostle Farleigh in the slightest, before he reaches for the phone on the windowsill.

Farleigh didn't understand you and Felix, and he certainly didn't deserve any ounce of your attention. Farleigh was a self-serving, entitled creature fuelled by spite and pride; he'd set this house on fire if it would keep him warm, Oliver's sure. So he enacts his plan, sends the email that would spell Farleigh's ruin, and deletes all trace of it from the man's phone before he puts it back where he found it.

And he leaves as quietly as he'd arrived.

[smehur]

Drarry fic recs #6

[podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry written by @lettersbyelise and read by @timothysboxers

Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

A delightful fic and a phenomenal reading! There are few things I love more than ex-rivals Harry and Draco discovering they actually enjoy each other's company, especially when it's done with such humor. The game of kill, fuck, marry was hilarious, and so was the dancing. And Draco's final birthday wish, well. 🔥 A phrase seen in many stories but rarely delivered with quite that much cheek. I'm all smiles and biting lips just thinking about it. 10/10 would read/listen again.

ready, able by @garagepaperback

“Well, even if we went through with it, it wouldn’t work. But thanks for the grand heroic rushing in. A certain element of purity is needed to break it." Malfoy licks his lips, "You’d have to be a virgin.” Harry keeps every muscle on his face particularly still, hoping it looks to Malfoy as absolutely blank as it feels to him. Half a minute passes. “No,” Malfoy, already doing a poor job of sitting normally on his chair, bends in half, nearly falling out of it. He’s laughing. “No, Potter, no. No- don’t- you’re twenty-five years old!” “And?” Harry asks, heat staining his face. - Malfoy has a problem, Harry wants to help.

Apart from being captivating, tantalizing and touching, this story is also an interesting (and, for this reader, unique) take on the fuck-or-die trope, which I'll generally read "for fun" but will only take "seriously" if it's somehow challenged and reshaped till choice reasserts itself. Like in this fic! Which, on top of everything, (spoiler alert!) ends with one of the hottest sex scenes in my HP reading so far. Truly exquisite. 👌

Savage by @marguerite26

In a post-war world that lives in fear and ignorance of werewolves, Draco Malfoy has taken every step to keep his condition hidden. When the delicate balance of his life shatters in a single moment, it is Harry Potter alone standing in his defence.

Another instance where excellent fic managed to sell me a trope I'm not a fan of: werewolves! It's a phenomenal story, with an interesting, political plot, excellent pacing, flawless characterization and steaming hot sex. What more could one hope for?

Virtuous by @heyjude19-writing

Draco is only sin inverted.

I loved this short piece down to the last word. It's so multifaceted! At face value, it's a confession of an unredeemed Draco, but is he? Is he really? Or did "fake it till you make it" work a little better than he expected? I'm fascinated by this because it touches on the question of whether a person can really change, which is, obviously, central to Drarry. Does a selfish motivation behind an act of kindness make the act less kind? I don't know the answers. But I do so enjoy fic that asks the questions!

Draco in Darkness by plumeria47

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

This story is very old and predates the canon ending of the series (thus missing out on a lot of canon Drarry content that would've made it even better). It's also a bit old-fashioned, compared to the fic I mostly read these days, and it triggered some of my technical pet peeves. Yet it hooked me within the first few paragraphs, and I grew to love it with a slow-burn passion. Draco's sudden disability is depicted in a very straight-forward, matter-of-fact, incredibly effective yet sensitive way; and his manner of coping with it is perfectly in character. Meanwhile, Harry is blind in his own way, which helps build the tension but never crosses the line of being too contrived. I had so many feels reading this. It's just beautiful, warts and all.

As always, my heartfelt thanks to the authors of these, and all other lovely stories shared within this amazing fandom, and to the readers helping spread the word. 🥰

[vonnawithav]

I don’t like romance in movies

Now, this is totally personal opinion and preference, so please keep that in mind when reading.

“I don’t like romance plots in movies”

That sounds so weird I know. Especially when this entire blog I dedicated to one ineffable couple I’ve hyper fixated on ever since I offhandedly watched a random show on prime when I was bored.

There’s lots of things I don’t like about the idea of stereotypical *ahem, usually heterosexual* romance, and one of those things is the perceived intensity of attraction.

While I understand it to an extent, I also don’t. On the few occasions I’ve been romantically interested in someone I’ve never had the urge to rip their clothes off and jump their skin, or marry them that afternoon.

I do however, want to show them my book collection, send them obscure memes, talk about that one scene in that one show I can’t move on from yet, listen to them talk about their passions, share romantic but subtle moments, and just generally enjoy each other’s company.

Maybe this is because my lack of neurotypical tendencies, my demisexuality, or just my queerness in general, I don’t know.

But this type of romance is rarely shown in media, (again, in my personal viewing experience), especially in straight media.

You’re probably wondering what the fuck this has to do with movies. Same honestly I lost my train of thought one sec-

Ah yes.

Romance in movies feels immensely rushed to me. There is no time to sit and talk while you watch the sunrise, there cannot be an entire episode where the entire plot line is your traumatic childhood and how you two can bond over the fact both of your dads left for milk and never came back, or your wooden frog collection.

Noooo, instead, there must be this instant inexplicable attraction that causes both of your hormones to go haywire, because the plot only has two hours to not only get through this plot line BUT the other three in the background.

For romance to work in my head, 👏🏾I 👏🏾 Need 👏🏾 Bonding 👏🏾 time 👏🏾.

That’s one of the many reasons I love OFMD and Good Omens so much, we get to see that bonding time.

Ed and Stede chilling while having breakfast in bed while they look at each other lovingly?

Goals.

Azira and Crowley sitting and enjoying a good bottle of wine while talking about the end of the world?

Never seen anything better.

I think romance is at its best when subtle and calming, not frantic and unnerving.

Don’t get me wrong, I think franticness has its place in romance, especially once sexual tension has begun, but there needs to be large spaces of comfort and safety in between. (In my personal opinion)

Alrighty then, I’ll be off.

Lmk if you see where I’m coming from, or if I’m just posting insane ramblings because I’m sleep deprived and recovering from a cold 🥲.

[sphireath-wisp]

#Fairytale (Sae's Version)

Sypnosis: Your relationship with them as a cliche, romantic book trope <3

Warnings: Not Proofread, gender is not specified but reader is described with the term "pretty", messy interchanging grammar, slight cursing, sort of spoilers for the scene when Sae meets Rin after returning from Spain(?)

Note: Other versions coming up soon!!

Featuring: Sae Itoshi x GN! reader

Sae Itoshi - Childhood Sweethearts

"Meeting you was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it would be my favorite."

There was this strange kid in your class who goes by the name of "Sae Itoshi". Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, maybe it was fate that drew him close to you. Perhaps it was the fortune slip you drew on New Year's, bold letters painted on paper, asserting the supposed misfortune that will follow you throughout your year.

But, to start your year on a sour note, you happened to sit right next to him. You didn't hate him but didn't exactly enjoy his company either. Furthermore, he had a sharp tongue, refined and honed with a rich vocabulary that he used to his heart's content. Whether it was directed at the teachers or those guys that stick around him like glue, every sneer and snide remark reached your ears.

And oh god, he was so creative with his words to the point where you couldn't hold back your laughter.

Sucking in your stomach, your chest puffs out in an attempt to hold in the giggles on the verge of leaking out. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, glancing away as you sink your teeth down on your lower lip.

Sae leans back in his chair as usual. His attention was drawn in by your strange behavior, softly chuckling and pursing your lips to resist a smile. Testing the waters, a witty remark slips out of his lips and he connects the dots when you struggle to contain your laughter after his words.

"This teacher is way too strict... right?" Sae initiates a conversation. For the first time, in the two weeks you've sat beside each other and referred to each other as 'seatmates', he spoke directly to you without being forced to by any pestering teachers - who always insisted that 'this class is a family'.

You pause, a moment of silence that you needed. To consider what to say - then reconsider again.

"...yeah." Something simple wouldn't make this any less awkward than it already is, right? "You're right, he needs to really chill."

You lean forward and stack your forearms on the desk you and Sae were supposed to share. Sae observes silently, hands in his pocket. He fiddles with the only lollipop he had left in his pocket after all of his friends ran off with the rest of his collection, contemplating whether he should give the last one to you or keep it for himself.

Teal eyes land on you, innocently absorbing your features, the way your leg bounced up and down, how you twirled the pen in your hand (occasionally dropping it). Sae turns his head away, the rational part of his mind reminding him that staring - especially for that long - is rude.

However, he took away something from that little session of scrutinizing you - you're pretty.

A simple fact, an observation - Sae convinces himself. It totally isn't just him being subjective and admiring you. Yeah, everyone else probably regards you as pretty. It isn't just him, right?

"I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was... not love at first sight exactly, but familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you." - Mhairi McFarlane via 5000letters (via perfect)

"Do you want to be my partner?" You wanted to tap his shoulder before asking, but your gut told you not to - it was rude to touch people without permission... or maybe it was something else that made your gut churn so uncomfortably.

It had gotten easier to talk to him through the lighthearted insults thrown at the others in class or the gossip you would both indulge in, but things still occasionally felt awkward and stiff. But, it was progress! School days wouldn't seem so dull if you could befriend the aloof boy next to you.

"Why?"

"It's convenient that way." Thank god you had prepared a response in mind beforehand. "I don't wanna move seats and take all of my stuff to another table just to move back here again, you know what I mean?"

Sae's eyes drift to the group of guys signaling to him and, while he had no problem shutting them down, he was reluctant.

"Hey," You begin, not wanting to force or pressure him into anything - though you knew damn well he's too stubborn to be forced into something he doesn't like. "You don't have to if you don't wanna"

"No. Let's pair up." Sae interjects. "The last time I paired up with those idiots, we got no work done." You widened your eyes and he swore he saw stars, causing a small chuckle to escape him.

Strangely, he found himself growing fond of your reactions and expressions. You were... very full of life; he liked that about you. The way your eyebrows shot up when he directed a snarky remark to the teacher who belittled you - which he took more offense to than you did - only pushed him to make more sarcastic comments until you struggled to contain your own laughter.

You nudged him as a plea to stop, not because you disliked it - hell no, it entertained you and made class something you looked forward to. However, your actions backfired when Sae took it as a challenge. His hands snaked their way to your sides and zapped you with lightning speed. You were relieved that the class was so loud during discussions, the yelp you let out would have turned heads.

"S-Sae! Okay, okay, stop, you win! You can do the research, I'll do the writing." You panted for air when he finally ceased, a smug smirk pasted on his face. With a toothy smile, he slid the papers to your table. "Good, I knew you were reasonable."

You wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes with the back of your index finger, clutching onto your stomach with your other hand to shield your body. "You better not slack," Clicking your tongue, you rolled your eyes and earned a scoff from him. "I could say the same to you," He retorts before packing his pencil case back in his bag to move to the next class.

"Sae, your pencil," You silently pass him it. "Return me it later. We'll see each other in the next class anyway, right?"

"You trust me with it?" You respond to his question with another, lowering your hand - something as small as a pencil could be seen as insignificant, but it was still his. Sae already had the strap of his backpack hanging on his shoulder by the time he came up with a reply, "...I guess."

Conveniently, the next class required everyone to pair up too. Firing knowing glances at each other from across the class, you both already found your partner before the teacher had even finished speaking.

"I didn't know what to call it, what was happening between us, but I liked it. It felt silly and fragile and good." - Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

"Say 'ahhh'," You scoop a spoonful of rice and stop it in front of Sae's mouth, waiting for him to open his mouth instead of stubbornly turning his head the other way.

"I can feed myself, (Name)." Sae firmly states, rotating his body and turning his back to you. At least, in this position, you won't see the raging flush decorating the apple of his cheeks - a heat he wasn't used to and couldn't get to disappear.

"Not when you have a fractured wrist and sprained the other, don't even think about overexerting yourself." Your voice is firm, eyes trained on his hands.

Sae doesn't respond - maybe it was something he didn't want to bring up. It's okay, you're used to giving in to him and his petty demands.

He's silent, deathly silent. Reluctance is clear in his every move when he faces you, lips parting and leaning forward for you to feed him without any issue. The last thing he'd want is to cause you any more trouble when you went out of your way to help him - help he wanted and needed, but he'd rather die than admit that.

For once, he'll put his voice to rest, not a single whine or groan slipping from his lips when you accidentally spill a bit of rice on his lap or when the spoon bumps into his teeth. For once, he isn't as irritated by the stares he receives and the nudges he gets from his soccer buddies when they pass by - he notices, but he couldn't care less.

And you? It was a struggle on your end to ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach. You had found comfort in the silence you and Sae used to find awkward, eyes speaking languages only you and he could understand.

His gaze never left yours, no matter how many times you bashfully looked elsewhere to prevent the pink shade on your cheeks from becoming any deeper, any bolder, any brighter, any more obvious to the boy you had developed a silly crush on.

"Are you not going to eat?" You pause, realizing that the bowl of noodles that was supposed to serve as your lunch must have gone cold by now. You felt hungry, but a cold bowl of noodles didn't seem too appetizing to your grumbling stomach. "...I'm fine, I'll eat later."

"At least drink something."

"Later." You reply dismissively, more getting him to eat.

"PE is next. You're not going to have enough energy, you know. What if you pass out or something?" Sae narrows his eyes at you, not remembering the last time he got so worked up about something other than soccer.

"Then, I guess I'm sitting out with you."

He doesn't say anything back, chewing on his food silently. "...You should look out for yourself more often."

"I could say the same for you." You place the spoon down, finally through with the bowl of food. "You were the one who blocked that soccer ball from hitting my head, so I owe you that." He used his hand to try and block a soccer ball hurling right at you and the impact caused his other hand - which he was using as a support for his weight - to slip and sprain itself. It was certainly a streak of misfortune for him.

"It was one time-"

"So you wouldn't protect me again?"

He shuts up, clicking his tongue after.

"Maybe we'll meet again, when we are slightly older and our minds less hectic, and I'll be right for you and you'll be right for me."

"You're really leaving, huh?" It was pouring outside and judging by the amount of background noise coming from Sae's side of the phone, he was probably at the airport by now.

"...Yeah- Sorry, it's really laggy here."

You chuckle, hugging your pillow to your chest with the phone by your ear. "It's fine, as long as I can hear you."

Sae sighed into the phone, the same rich and colorful vocabulary used to criticize the ridiculously noisy airport and geek out about his future in Spain - a future he wished wasn't away from all of the things he held dear, his family, his friends... you.

"Real Madrid. I'm still sort of in shock." You replied with a barely audible 'uh-huh'. "I made the decision to leave a while ago, but I'm still processing leaving Japan."

His voice was uncharacteristically gentle as if he knew you weren't handling his departure well - he knew you like the back of his hand after all. However, it had the opposite effect, the fact that he cared only made you want to cry more. He was so damn observant for his age.

"Can we-" You take a deep breath... you could be a little selfish just for today, right? "Can we call until you get on the plane?"

"...I hope, I have earphones in, so it should be fine." Your tense shoulders drop, burying your face into the tear-stained pillow. "Rin's clinging to me so much, even though he said he's okay with me going."

"He wants to see you achieve your dreams and all, but he'll definitely miss you, you know?" You related to him, a little too much. "Where are you now?"

"Just past security and bag checks, I have a little bit of time before I board the plane..." Sae clutches his passport in his hand. "I gotta say bye to my family."

"Tell Rin to hug you for me."

"...right." Sae hugs Rin even tighter.

It's silent between you and him other than the background chatter and buzz - a silence you were well acquainted with.

"They left... or should I say I left them?" You hear the sound of the wheels of his suitcase; he's heading somewhere. "Don't say sad shit like that, Sae. You're going to Spain; you're gonna be a star! As your biggest fan, I don't wanna see you moping around."

"I'm about to board the plane, I'll be quiet for a little, but I'm listening." Sae reassures you.

"Okay. I'll start rambling as usual then." You laugh lightly, still in denial that this could be the last conversation you have with him. "Before you leave, I promise to hold that grudge against the teacher you hate - I never knew why you hated them though. I promise to take care of your pencil because in the end I never returned it."

You don't hear a response from Sae, but you can neither stop your word vomit or tears.

"I promise to take good care of Rin in your stead. I promise to be more careful and 'look out for myself' more. I promise I'll always support you from the other side of the screen. And- and, I know we won't call much because of the timezones," You take a shaky breath. "but, please don't forget about me, Sae."

You sniffle, the pile of tissues next to you only increasing. "Sae, I never got to tell you-"

"I'm in my seat." He interjects suddenly, voice as unstable and shaky as your breathing. It was a plea - a plea to please don't force yourself to say anymore, a plea to tell you that he knows, a plea to remind you to take deep breaths because he can hear how painful it is for you, a plea to beg you to stop before it's too much for him and he cries too.

It's a mixture of gratitude and regret. He's glad you don't have to see him like this, but it'd be a blessing to have you by his side, to ease this ache in his chest.

"Sae." You don't want to stop now- you can't; you need to finish what you started. "I lov-"

The call ends - he disconnected; the plane took off.

"You never meet the same person twice, even in the same person."

Sae Itoshi - he's made it, but he's not the same.

When you heard Rin shout at his own older brother from afar, you knew something was off. No, no, Rin would never shout at him - not the very person he put on a pedestal and looked up to his whole life.

"I don't want that!" Rin's eyes glare at Sae, or the shell of the human he once was. "I'm the younger brother of the best striker in the world!" You felt your own beating, living heart crack in your chest for the second time - the first was after meeting Sae's tired eyes, accompanied by the dark eye bags.

The heart you crappily pieced back together after not being able to tell your childhood sweetheart how you felt was on the verge of breaking again - so easily too, after all the sleepless nights you spent trying to mend it together.

There it was again: that uncomfortable, unbearable silence. Sae's lips part, a shaky breath escaping him, yet no words follow.

After all these years, even you weren't sure if you were looking at 'Sae Itoshi, Rin's older brother, the best striker in school, your foul-mouthed seatmate.' or 'Sae Itoshi, the prodigy, the boy genius'. Were you really staring back at the person you fell in love with?

"Let's go, Rin," You spoke up, even though every fiber of your being was telling you, begging you to stay. Your gaze locks with his for a short moment, eyes pleading with him to please stop you from leaving.

"...Sae," Have you ever said his name so coldly? "how long are you staying in Japan?"

He glances down - as if too shameful to meet your gaze. The collar of his windbreaker covers the lower half of his face and brings more attention to his dreary, reddened eyes. "I'm leaving tomorrow; tomorrow morning, 9am." His trembling hands stay in his pockets.

"I see." was all you could utter and it left both you and Sae terribly disappointed.

"I don't care, I love you anyhow. It is too late to turn you out of my heart. Part of you lives here." -Anne Sexton, from A Self-portrait in Letters

It was like a replay of that heart-wrenching memory 4 years ago. He was leaving and that thought haunted your mind for the whole night. Everything ached, your head, your body, your heart. It was stupid to chase a crush you had left behind 4 years ago, but you had realized by now that your feelings had bloomed into something more than just a simple crush.

It was 6 a.m., tear-stained pillows, and a migraine steadily kicking in. You mindlessly reread what Sae and you used to text each other, what you could've been with him. For all these years, you haven't called him, because the first few months of trying always left you with no response. You felt like a bother, prompted to leave him voice messages instead of hearing his voice - were you truly as important to him as he was to you?

Your fingers hovered over the call button. You were too tired to get out of bed, much too tired to think clearly and stop yourself. Before you knew it, your head bobbed down and your finger lost the strength to hold itself up, pressing the call button.

The realization that you were actually calling him hit you awake. Your body jolts up, scrambling to quickly end the call.

"...Hello?" Shit. He answered.

"Fuck, sorry," You held your head in your hands. "I didn't mean to call you at this hour. It was an accident, I swear-"

"It's fine." He bluntly answers and you pause.

"...okay, then uh, I'll end the c-" Before you can finish, he interrupts you - a characteristic of Sae's that you had grown accustomed to. "Why are you awake at this hour? Why does your voice sound weird?... Have you been crying, (Name)?" He was so blunt, so straightforward.

You could feel the suspicious glare Sae was giving you through the phone, even though his camera was off. The image of his face - teal eyes narrowing and scrutinizing your every word, eyebrows knitted together, and finger impatiently tapping any surface while waiting for an answer - painted itself in your head. Oddly enough, you giggled.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just- I vividly remember you interrogating me like this back when we were kids. You always used to bombard me with questions - giving me not even a single moment to answer, mind you." It had become a habit - being sarcastic and lightheartedly insulting each other. So, when talking with Sae again, it naturally came back to you.

"Ah... am I rambling?"

"Yes, you are," Sae didn't bother sugarcoating anything, "but don't stop. Continue."

You blink - you could be a little more selfish just for today, right?

"Could we... do it in person?" You could feel Sae frown when you suggested it. "I know, I know. Your flight is at 9 a.m. But, it doesn't matter to me where we hang out. Let's talk at the airport before you go."

The silence only diminishes your hope and you continue to persuade him before it's fully extinguished.

"Please, Sae. For old-time's sake. Can't we talk? Can't we catch up?" Your grip on your phone hardened, "Even if it's just 10 minutes, I don't care. I never got to finish what I said 4 years ago, I'm gonna finish it today."

You waited for what felt like hours for a response.

"Ok." The tension left your body, breathing a loud sigh of relief and you hop out of bed. "I'll see you at the airport?"

"No. I'm picking you up." It's like he already made the decision for you, and how could you ever say no to him? "Wear something warm, it's gonna rain today. I'll lend you my jacket if you get too cold."

"Sae." The sudden firmness in your voice stunned him... did he do something wrong? Was he too forward? All the shuffling from his side stopped as if time stopped with him when he paused to listen to you. "Thank you for this and...

I love you, I didn't get to say that the last time you left." You decide to be frank because there is no point acting shy and coy around someone like Sae. Beating around the bush would only waste time - you conclude - and at least you'd get to process the heartbreak if he does reject you. Or perhaps, you were just too impatient to wait anymore. 4 years was much too long for you.

The background noise began again from his side and you hear a sigh - relief that that was all and he hadn't accidentally screwed things up.

"I've known for a long time." He admits, clamping the phone between his raised shoulder and ear whilst he fishes out something he hopes you'd like to see him in - even though he himself was unsure what that would be.

"Really?" You ask back. You didn't doubt him, but it sounded like he had so much more to say.

"Yeah." His words trailed off into silence, a momentary pause for him to think. He's known that what he felt for you was more complex than anything he's encountered before, feelings bubbling in his chest and far beyond his own comprehension. Judging by the way you struggled to say it to him at first, he could tell you were going through the same hardships as him.

It was commendable that you pushed past your own cowardice to tell him something so tender. Your future and friendship weigh heavy on his shoulders, and the last thing he's going to do is break your heart. He didn't forget you, he couldn't have forgotten you - you were his childhood sweetheart after all.

"And... I love you too."

Taglist: @dewwberry

[thetruthwilloutsworld]

If anyone knows a thing or two about sex scenes, it’s Sam Heughan. Over the past decade, the 43-year-old Scottish star of Outlander, the cult-hit historical drama, has filmed hours of notoriously raunchy footage in his role as Jamie Fraser, the dashing 18th-­century Highland rebel, with his wife, Claire – a time-traveller from the 20th century, played by ­Caitríona Balfe.

Yet two years ago, Heughan, as one of the executive producers (with Balfe), introduced an intimacy co-ordinator to choreograph such scenes, which had been criticised by many as excessively violent.

“The industry’s completely changed since Outlander started,” Heughan says, sitting in a Soho bar on a visit to London from his home outside Glasgow. “Not just our show but also shows like Game of Thrones were very graphic, with no room for the imagination, in a way that’s quite jarring now. As young, keen actors, we were just expected to get naked and go at it. Caitríona and I formed a bond and trusted each other, but there were times when we were pushed too far.” He was especially troubled by a scene involving full-frontal nudity in ­season one, when Jamie was tortured and raped by his rival, Black Jack Randall (Tobias Menzies). “That really didn’t sit well.”

Everything changed following the MeToo scandal, leading ­Heughan to employ Vanessa Coffey to choreograph the sex scenes. “So now everyone knows what the boundaries are, like in a football or rugby match. It’s been so helpful and freeing, and it was because I didn’t want younger actors to go through what we’d gone through. Now, the scenes are sexually charged, but not gratuitous.”

Despite his heartthrob status, Heughan – who’s 6ft 2in, with the strapping physique his role necess­i­tates – is modest and thoughtful company. He also had Coffey enlisted to co-ordinate his latest pro­ject, Channel 4’s erotic thriller The Couple Next Door, filmed during the short break between Outlander’s seasons nine and 10, in which he plays Danny, a policeman living in a Leeds suburb in an open marriage with Becka (Jessica De Gouw).

“We didn’t want to make a salacious or seedy show about swingers,” Heughan says. “It’s about the psychology behind it – what is it to be in an open relationship where two characters love each other so much that they can invite people into that relationship? I think it’s possibly the greatest form of romance to allow your partner this, if it’s the itch they need to scratch. My character struggles with it.

The couple’s (initially) strait-laced neighbours are played by Alfred Enoch and Eleanor Tom­linson, who in 2019 finished five seasons as Demelza in Poldark. With Outlander about to start ­filming its final season, she and Heughan compared notes on moving on from a huge, long-running costume drama.

“It’s emotional. For me, the prospect’s hugely bittersweet. It feels like getting out of an institution. Outlander’s like a family, it literally defines who I am.” After all, Heughan has created an empire of Outlander spin-offs, including books, television travelogues and his spirits brand, The Sassenach – named after Jamie’s nickname for the English Claire – not to mention his charity, My Peak Challenge, which has raised nearly £5 million to fund a variety of causes, including ­hunger relief and blood-cancer research. “I’m ready for new challenges, but also nervous about what it’s like in the real world,” he says.

Still, he felt now was the right time to wrap. “Outlander could have finished after the ninth season, but, personally, I felt we hadn’t quite got there. So now we have the problem of pushing the writers to do something that’s hopefully satisfying for the audience, but also exciting.” So Heughan doesn’t yet know how Outlander ends? “No idea, and it’s really tough because Diana [Gabaldon, the author on whose novels the series is based] has written so many books.”

The show has a vast international fanbase; VisitScotland has cited a 67 per cent rise in visits to the show’s locations, such as Culloden and Inverness. “I do feel like I’m an unofficial ambassador for Scotland, and sometimes I don’t think the show is given enough credit for what it’s done for Scottish tourism,” Heughan says. “I think the numbers are even bigger than they say, because reams of Americans are just making their own itineraries. Doune Castle’s numbers are up 800 per cent, it’s been completely renovated as a result.”

The show has also transformed the local film industry. “For 10 years, we’ve been employing ­people at over 200 Scottish locations, we’ve started an intern scheme, we’ve built a studio with five sound stages where there was nothing before. So it’s going to leave a legacy.”

The son of an artist single mother (his father walked out when he was a baby), Heughan spent his early childhood in the Borders, his teens in Edinburgh, before studying at Glasgow’s Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, where his mentor was third-year student James McAvoy.

Having worked in London and Los Angeles, Heughan fell back in love with Scotland when he was cast in Outlander. Initially against independence, filming the first ­season in the run-up to the 2016 ­referendum transformed him into a vocal advocate. “Scottish politics right now is a bit of a mess, which is a shame, but maybe they’ll find a new rallying cry. We’re a great wee country with amazing resources, most of which are controlled by the British. Similar small European countries have great identities.”

Initially, Heughan is hesitant to discuss the issue, aware taking either side will provoke a social-media backlash, but then he decides: “Why can’t actors have opi­n­ions? The problem is you have to come down on one side, there is no room for deb­ate. Everything has be­come so aggressive and then social-media algo­rithms mean you only get to see one side of the argument.”

He had his fingers burnt when last month he signed an open letter from Artists for Palestine UK, alongside the likes of Tilda Swinton and Steve Coogan, which accused the Government of “aiding and abetting” Israeli war crimes, but failed to condemn Hamas’s terrorism. The following day, Heughan rescinded, saying he hadn’t “fully understood” what he was signing.

“I was maybe naively calling for peace, which is what we all want, but, unfortunately, that situation is so complex, I can’t understand it all,” he says now. “As an actor, you have a platform, but if you put your thoughts out there, you upset ­people, but you’re also damned if you don’t say anything.”

Heughan’s taking time to navigate a potential post-Outlander career path. “I’m a workaholic, but I have to be discerning. Whatever I do next, I have to feel really passionate about.” Possible plans include directing and exploring a different side to Scotland than misty heather and bagpipes. “I think that underbelly you see in [Ian Rankin’s] Rebus and Irvine Welsh is very interesting, there are still pockets that are very hard and gritty.”

Back in 2005, he auditioned for James Bond in Casino Royale – the role that eventually went to Daniel Craig. Now, there’s a new vacancy. “I’ll throw my hat in the ring,” he says, grinning. “I’d be a brilliant Bond, I’m good at action and I’d bring a lot of ­emotional intelligence.”

There might even be space for a personal life. Heughan’s mystified by “facts” he reads about his private life online. “There’s so much ­nonsense that’s completely false – apparently, I have a daughter. News to me!” he says, flushing. The truth, he says, is that Outlander leaves no time for relationships.

“It’s insane hours and takes over everything. Caitríona’s carved out a beautiful family for herself that she protects very well, but I’ve seen how hard it is for her to do that. I want a cat, but I’m too scared even for that, how would I look after it? One day, maybe,” Heughan says, dreamily.

Posting again as some people had difficulty opening the previous link.

[shuugumi]

❥ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐖𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: making up with gojo satoru after a few stressful weeks,

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: hurt + comfort, college au (gojo & reader are seniors), pro-wrestler!gojo, originally posted on @seiueina but transferred work here !! isn’t proofread…at all heh heh may rewrite

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i ordered the iphone 15 pro and it isn't coming in till october 31 T-T oh yeah also i am turning this into a series hehehe. reblogs r vry appreciated as it gets my works out there!

People lead busy lives, and unexpected events can often disrupt their routines. Some days are busier than others.

However, with wrestling season kicking off and your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, making headlines in college and local newspapers as the potential winner of the S&J 2023 Belt, he was under immense pressure from his team coach to perform at his best.

As a result, this season had left him incredibly busy and stressed. Balancing the demands of completing his thesis, maintaining his weight for the competition, and practicing tirelessly, all while trying to ensure you remained his top priority.

You had always been known as an independent person, finding solace and joy in your own company. As Satoru found himself busy with his commitments, you found yourself having a hands full with the university events department, where you were deeply involved in planning upcoming events.

Between both of your hectic schedules, finding time to relax in each other's arms had become a rarity.

Your interactions had been reduced to brief moments, such as getting ready for bed or starting the day. This new routine began to take a toll on your relationship, leading to nightly arguments and hurtful words exchanged in your shared apartment. Tension between you two was palpable, with some nights ending with one of you sleeping on the couch, while the other shivered from the absence of warmth.

Neither of you had the time or energy to address the issues that had arisen between you. But, one day, Satoru surprised you by inviting you to a wrestling kickoff party hosted by his teammate, Geto Suguru. Although hesitant, you decided to accompany him, swallowing your pride as you held his hand tightly while entering one of the gathering rooms on campus.

You didn't know many people at the party, unfamiliar faces, especially numerous females, filled the room. As you sat on the couch sipping your Shirley Temple, you observed various scenes – wrestlers trying to flirt with women, groups dancing to the music, and, most importantly, your boyfriend engaged in conversation with a group of people, wearing a genuine smile that had been absent for weeks.

Amidst the crowd, one woman stood out, too close for comfort with Satoru. She was touching his arm and laughing along with him and the group. It seemed like he was giving her more attention than he had given you in the past month.

"Oh my god, do you remember the time we got lost in the park, and Kento had to come pick us up!" you heard the woman exclaimed from across the room. You couldn't bear it any longer, so you walked up to them and tapped Satoru on the shoulder, informing him, "I'm not feeling well." Your voice trailed off as you looked at the ground. His attention immediately shifted to you, and he sounded genuinely concerned as he asked, "What happened? Do you need medicine?"

"I'm gonna go outside," you replied wearily as you made your way to the front door of the house. Satoru asked if he should come with you, tones of worriedness laced in his words. You walked away without responding, finding a seat on the stairs leading to the entrance.

Satoru wondered to himself what was bothering you. He couldn't hear the woman talking anymore, as his thoughts were consumed by concern for you. As he excused himself from the conversation and headed to the front door, he found you sitting on the stairs, scrolling through Pinterest.

"Hey, Y/N. Love, did you come out here just to use your phone? I thought you weren't feeling well," he calmly inquired, taking a seat next to you. Your eyes were still glued to your phone as he moved it away, causing you to roll your eyes at his actions.

"It's nothing," you began, but Satoru interrupted, "Don't give me that 'nothing.' You know I don't like it when you say that. I can tell something is bothering you." He sighed, looking down at the cement ground.

"—I don't understand. You said you were getting fresh air, but when I came out here, you were on your phone. Did you just need to make a phone call? Just tell me what's going on because right now, I have no idea," he implored, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned closer to you.

You finally met his gaze, and with a soft and embarrassment filled irises, you apologized, "I..I just miss you!," you began, looking in his azure eyes, swallowing air before continuing, "I miss cooking for you and eating at the table with you! I miss when you make those stupid but silly faces at me when we're eating...I miss when you play with my hair when we're studying together. I miss you Satoru!"

"We haven't been doing those things in the past few weeks, have we?" Satoru tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, and a small smile appeared on your face. You shook your head slowly in response.

"Seeing you talking to that girl made me feel jealous. I wished it was me you were talking to, smiling, and laughing at instead," you admitted as Satoru wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his chest.

"If you ever think that some girl could ever compare to what we have, you're completely wrong. You're the only one I think about. Even with all this happening right now, I only ever want to think about you. I am infatuated with you baby...We're both stupid for not talking about this sooner," Satoru reassured you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

"Are you mad at me?" you asked calmly. Satoru quickly pulled back, looking puzzled. "No, why should I be?" he replied. You shrugged and finally gave him the eye contact he had been longing for.

"All of this? What happened tonight and the past few weeks?" you clarified. He laughed at your words, cupping your face to make you look at him. "Never,was just a misunderstanding. Plus, even if I was, how could I stay mad at this cute face?" he said, his smile growing as yours did.

"You also aren't the only one who missed the other person. Missed you a lot as well" He continues, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I will make it up to you...kay' sweets."

"I love you, Satoru."

"I love you more, Y/N," he replied, cupping your face before giving you the long-awaited kiss on the lips.

© 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 ; do not translate, copy, plagiarize or upload elsewhere!! all content is owned by me unless stated otherwise.

[anfie-in-the-box]

Turns, twists, and paradoxes

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Notes

It's been finished for a while, just didn't feel like uploading anything. It really takes effort to get the post done, with all the links, the credits, proofreading, etc.

Also yeah, it's the second x-tra! Since @zu-is-here insists on drawing illustrations for this fic, readers get more x-tra scenes!

Enjoy!

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X-tra 2

Horror hopes he knows where to shortcut to find Murder. He doesn't want him alone after a fight; never again.

Murder isn't in his room, but that's okay. Horror has a few other places to check. He can't feel the other's emotions like Nightmare can, but he knows Murder better than anyone, so of course he'll find him.

Just let him not be too late. Murder needs him.

Horror shortcuts and shortcuts. The castle is silent and empty — it's weird not to hear a single soul, no spars on the yard, no smells of cooking — someone is, was, always awake here. The castle was alive despite overwhelming, suffocating negativity, and now it's dead. For good, once Horror and Murder leave as well. It feels strange to even consider leaving the place behind, yet it's only logical — nothing stops them anymore. They can have a try at a happy ending of their own.

Horror finds Murder in one of the balconies where he sits right on the floor, breathing deeply. He's meditating, Horror knows, so he doesn't interrupt. Instead he sits quietly in front of Murder and watches his deceivingly calm features, looking for a sign of distress. Murder is particularly vulnerable before and after gaining EXP, and while Horror couldn't really help before — Nightmare would never let them comfort each other when their negative emotions were high, only after they calmed down by themselves — he can now. So he's here. It's new, so he's not sure what exactly to do, but being around people always seemed to ground Murder, if only a little, so Horror will keep him company. They worked together for so long they grew attached despite their differences and their past. Horror was at odds with most of others, mostly because unlike them, he cared about his brother and his people and couldn't even imagine killing them. In a sense, he was lucky, never once living through what they call a Genocide timeline; but he had a hell of his own.

Nightmare only picked up toys long broken, after all. Those he could bend and twist into loyalty. Some managed to escape his grasp — Cross wasn't the first traitor, not at all, although he's the only one who joined Dream and therefore put a target much bigger than usual on his back. Nightmare does not forget, and he does not forgive.

Or at least that's how it used to be. Nightmare did bow and thank them for help, after all. And earlier, he did let them go without a word.

They're not free yet, though. Maybe will never be. But now they can make a first step. Together with Murder, Horror hopes. He doesn't want to leave his partner alone.

Murder opens his sockets, mismatched eye-lights focusing on Horror.

Neither talks until Murder twitches, "Did you want something?"

"Just make sure you're alright," Horror responds. "Well, as much as possible," he corrects.

Murder hugs his knees, curling into himself. "Papyrus didn't make an appearance, if that's what you'd like to know. I don't know if it's meditation or he just doesn't feel like it."

"That's okay," Horror assures. "There's no rush anymore."

Murder lowers his gaze. "Are we really leaving?" he asks. Something in his tone breaks Horror's heart. He's come to care so much about his partner.

"I don't know," he answers honestly. "I have to ask Farmer if he's okay with it. But I don't think he'll refuse, especially if we promise to help."

"We're both unstable," Murder says. "And they're peaceful. Would it work?"

Horror knows what he's really asking. What if I snap? What if you snap? Horror doesn't know how to answer that. What he knows for sure is, "We won't be alone anymore."

Murder grins. "Don't know about you, but I was never alone in the first place. Not since you…" He quiets and whispers, smile smaller but more genuine: "Thank you."

"Thank you, too," Horror grumbles. It's not easy to be so open after years of hiding, even before Nightmare came for him, but for Murder, he can do it.

They fall silent, sitting on the cool floor, looking at each other. They're both roughed up, though not injured too seriously. Some food and a bath will heal them in a moment. Maybe good sleep, too, though they won't be sleeping any time soon. Or at least Horror won't.

"Why do you think Nightmare returned?" Murder asks, uncertain and vulnerable. He looks Horror in the eye, waiting for his response nervously.

"I think," Horror says, "Nightmare needs something he left here. Probably those precious books of his. And besides, we knew it would happen sooner or later, didn't we? We were ready as we'd ever be."

Murder nods thoughtfully, reaching out. Horror lets him touch and caress his hands. Intimacy is difficult, but Murder deserves comfort, and Horror is ready to provide.

"It's so weird seeing him like this," Murder murmurs softly. He must be scared to share his thoughts so openly, and so is Horror, but they will manage for sure. There's nothing stopping them anymore. They don't have to hurt anymore. They can heal.

"It is," Horror agrees. "Whatever happened that got rid of his corruption changed him drastically, huh?"

Murder doesn't answer — there's no need to talk anymore.

So they sit together, despite the odds, against the ever-present oppressing air of an AU with hopes and dreams long gone. They're not quite ready for whatever will come next, but Horror wants to face the future by Murder's side.

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Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Horror!Sans © horrortalecomic

Murder!Sans © ask-dusttale

Read it on ao3

Read Russian version on ficbook or fanficus

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Notes

I told you Murder and Horror would show up again, but did you expect it to be so soon? Even I didn't, but it really wanted to be written, so I couldn't ignore it.

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