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letshavedeernnertogether · 16 days ago

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Watch you sleeping

summery: just falling asleep in alastor's embrace

words ≈ 1.6k (a very short thing cos i can't fall asleep and write instead)

warnings: fluffy fluff, reader is a very clinging sleeper, alastor is just clingy, alastor is ooc, mostly alastor's pov

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

Alastor didn't like to be touched, but he always pressed you closer to his side when you fell asleep.

Alastor never slept, he didn't even have a bed, but when you became his beloved and said you wanted to move to him, he conjured one, for he knew you were a sleepyhead. And how glad he was that now he had a bed.

You were peacefully falling asleep, slowly, gradually. Alastor witnessed how your breath became slowlier, how your limbs relaxed, how you made your last yawn before giving in to sleep completely.

Alastor didn't take his eyes from you since you had lay on the mattress and closed your eyes. As you lay down and covered yourself with a blanket, he put his hand on your head and began to stroke you by your hair. Gently and lightly but also patronisingly. And you smiled and sighted in pleasure as you always liked how his fingers played with your hair. His fingertips slowly traced down your temple and behind your ear and he massaged gently behind your auricle, making you wish to get more of his touch and cling closer to him, which was what you did.

Alastor chuckled your name, you were too adorable, and the vibration of his voice, this static that became actually palpable when he lowered his voice, sent shivers down your spine. You wrapped your arm around his waist, as if punishing him for his teasing with more of your attention to his body. But Alastor only put his free arm on yours. His thumb caressed your shoulder, drawing circles on your skin.

He made the lights go dim in the room, and your eyes finally found the rest in semi-darkness. You moved closer to your beloved, showing him your approval. You placed your leg between his and, as Alastor was still sitting, buried your head in his hip. He tilted his head like every time when he didn't comprehend the feelings you awakened in him. Just as now, when you embraced him like a pillow, resting your bent knee atop his leg and pressing your forehead to him. He had to be angry. He had to be angry from the beginning when you made him invite you in his space, when you made him change his habits, when you made him doubt if he was enough for anyone, for you. You didn't know what you’d done to him. Possessively you kept your arms around him, but it was innocently. It was an embrace of a child, clinging to their parent, who was seeking for nothing more but protection and love. And Alstor covered your hands on him with his, convincing you he would. He loved your love and how you found your protection and comfort in him. It was different from everything that had happened in his both lives. It was amusing and sweet. He wasn't angry. He was confused and bewitched.

You were asleep. Your embrace became weaker, your chest rose and fell as you were softly breathing, your sleep seemed calm. Alastor kept watching you. His look became softer as he half closed his eyes; the supernatural glow of his ruby eyes slightly sone over your face. With one hand he brushed your back, the other one pulled a blanket to hide both of you. Though he liked the way your body curved as you were lying, and the way your nightdress enveloped your figure, and how the hem slightly rode up, revealing your beautiful knee cups, the chill coming from the bayou was becoming stronger, and Alastor wanted to keep you in warmth.

Though it was impossible to fall ill in hell, the night chill could still bother you, and your sleep had to be snug.

He snapped his fingers — the flame in the fireplace kindled. Soon the room would be warmed and become so cosy. With a single snapped Alastor had changed not only the setting, his clothes had changed as well. He dived under the blanket to you in his crimson pyjamas. The fur of his chest slightly stuck out from the loose collar and undone top buttons.

His hands immediately found your body and pulled you close to him. With a genuine smile he buried his face in your hair and inhaled your scent. Indeed, you were the most pleasant thing in the whole hell. Somehow the scent of you and the taste of you when he kissed reminded him of his home from the times when he was still alive. Maybe it was because the smell of sulphur which permeated everything and everyone in hell just didn't stick to you, though you definitely belonged to the place, but you were also something special. Otherwise, if you weren’t a unique soul how else could you bewitched the Radio Demon himself? Anyway, you smelled like rain and leaves and it brought comfort to Alastor's heart.

He rested his forehead against yours, his arms on your lower back, keeping you close to him, your knees touching his.

In the dim bedroom there were only you and him. Although he would never fall asleep, he would always keep his eye on you. To protect, to care, to admire. He would watch how you change your poses in the sleep, and he'd adjust to you so you were comfy. He would wake you up when he would see any signs of you having a nightmare. He would let you squeeze him if that would help you to remember that he was real and your bad dreams were not. And he would kiss you on your forehead to assure you that he would always be near to shelter you.

You felt yourself safe in the presence of the most powerful overlord of hell in your most vulnerable state — during your sleep. His clawed hands on your waist wouldn't let anyone touch you, his red glowing eyes watched the surroundings, and his large body radiating warmth served as your second blanket, covering you, keeping you from cold.

With every passing minute you clung closer and closer to Alastor. He didn't know what you were dreaming of, and in the morning, when he would ask you, you never knew the answer, for your dreams were always forgotten, but Alastor believed it was something pleasant, for there was a tiny smile curving your lips.

His heart ached sweetly when he felt how your fingers clenched his shirt on his chest and your forehead resting under his chin. He moved his lower part a tad closer to you, and you immediately embraced his hips with your legs. How could he end up here? Absolutely immobilised by a little beautiful creature like you and enchanted with your calm heartbeat and warm breath fanning over the fur on his chest?

He once believed it was wrong to let you do these things to him, to let himself get lost in your embrace, to melt under your touch. And then he tried to stay away, but he only met the deep longing in your eyes. The sadness that could eat you up from inside, right from your soul, and when it would be done with you it would pounce on him to devour him next. He didn't realise at first how deep was the connection between you, how deep he could fall without you. And that without him you'd fall too. He hated and loved it at the same time. But he also enjoyed the way you made him feel what he'd never felt before. This swirl in his stomach when he saw you, or the way his heart frantically beat when your lips met his, or how it stopped when he noticed your shadow in a corridor, or the foretasting heat all over his body when he made you blush with a compliment.

This delicious blend of pain and pleasure cooking in his soul was irksome at first and so precious now. You even turned the night into something special. Even when he was away from you all day, at night he always came back to have this special type of date with you. Before you Alastor had no choice but to busy himself with just anything during the time he could never sleep, so he worked or tortured or sipped whiskey in a jazz club. Now he could just let you prison him in bed, manacle him with your embrace. And he knew it wasn't wrong neither for him nor for you.

Alastor listened to your heartbeat. The symphony of chirring cicadas, crackling of fireplace and your pumping heat became dear. It was as soft as his favourite jazz melody, as a lullaby his mother used to sing to him. And it was only his.

His hands pressed you closer and he buried his face in your hair, closing his eyes. He wouldn't fall asleep, he would only have an illusion of this, but the feeling of being home was real.

Your bodies intertwined. If you would wake up now you wouldn't immediately realise where your arms ended and where his began. It was hard to understand who actually held another in their embrace. Rather, you were holding on to each other, and only the dawn could break the cuddle, but only for you to look up at your beloved, find his lips to kiss and whisper “good morning” in a husky weak voice. In the morning you would be illuminated with his loving gaze and soft smile, gifted with a peck on your forehead; you would be told “morning, love”, together you would go breakfasting, and the whole day you would spend together. Because that day Alastor wasn't with you, performing his overlord's duties. But the next day would be different. And as he was holding you in his warm embrace under the heavy blanket, he couldn't help imagining your bright eyes and lovely blush as he would gift you with all he had planned for you.

Alastor's hands closed around you tighter. A foretasting smile was on his face. A night with you was wonderful, but the day would be heavenly.

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#hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor fluff

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macfrog · 1 year ago

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walking through fire | one shot

just something that's been on my mind the last few weeks. i hope that you're all ok going into this difficult time of year. and if there's any part of this, big or small, that you find yourself resonating with - there will always be a warm, cozy chair in my inbox/dms, free for you to come sit, hang; we can talk about everything or nothing at all. love you guys. 🤍

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you’re neck-deep in a bout of seasonal depression. your boyfriend suggests an autumnal walk. (better than most healthcare systems offer amarite)

warnings: quite literally about depression & anxiety so please read at your own discretion. established relationship, fluffy soft!joel takes care of his girl, implied suicidal thoughts, use of medication to treat depression/anxiety, feelings of worthlessness/burdening, but hope! in the end! a wee sliver of hope!

word count: 2.7k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🖤

November turns on itself all too quickly.

Your body feels like lead, sinking deep into the mattress. Like a broken, rusted shipwreck at the bottom of the ocean; your hand lying limp above the bedsheets like a sailor’s last attempt at reaching over the waves for help.

Joel opened the blinds today. Nuzzled into you, the scruff of his beard sharp on your numb skin, and then stood up and slowly unveiled the glaring light of white cloud. You shrunk further into the bed, your hot breath suffocating you under the sheets. Inhaling and exhaling, breathing in your own rotten air.

He pushes the door open and shuffles across to the bed. Your sea dips when he lowers into it, two arms slipping around your waist like a lifebuoy. He pulls you into his chest; his warm body melting the ice of your bones.

“Hey,” he whispers, and drags his nose across your cheek. He kisses your temple, combs his fingers through your hair. Dabs his thumb along your bottom lip and then says again, “Hey, darlin’. You awake?”

Your eyes flutter open, only enough to see the blurry shape of him; the strong curve of his shoulder, the binary of dark cotton and pale skin.

“Hi, baby. How you feelin’ this mornin’?”

The words catch on the dry cliff of your throat, dangling for a few seconds like panicking climbers, before plummeting into the abyss. You settle for an incoherent mumbling, a vibration on your lips that Joel understands through the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah,” he sniffs, “not so good, huh? That’s okay. You know how much I love you?”

And that peels your eyes open a fraction more. Only enough to sharpen the image of him, to find the dark pools of his eyes and the way the flame in them flickers as he says it.

“Love you so much,” he whispers. The tiny fire thaws the very bottom of your heart, even if only enough to keep the blood pushing heavily through your veins.

Your eyes close over again, and you take his shirt in two weak fists, pulling yourself into his body. Your head fits in the crook of his arm, burying into his side.

“You feel like leavin’ the house today?” he asks, voice sweet and earnest. “Just for a little while? We could go for a walk, could go for a drive. Just you ‘n me, sweet girl.”

You shake your head, your eyes prickling from the sincerity of his question. The guilt beginning to creep its way over your shoulders.

“No? You don’t wanna?” He lifts his head, staring out at the view from the window. “’s a nice day out. Cold, but it’s dry, ‘n the leaves are all orange and yellow, just like you like. Not even for a half hour?”

That same guilt – sneering, bullying – pokes a sharp-clawed finger in your ribs until you answer him. “Tired,” you mumble, screwing your eyes shut until you see the sudden, violent assault of stars in your vision.

“I know you’re tired, baby,” Joel says, stroking your back. “But it might do you a little good to get some fresh air. And you’d be with me, and we can come back home whenever you decide.”

Your fear and shame seem to cower beneath his words; melted by the soft timbre of his voice. They retreat inward, burrowing deep between the cage of your ribs, twisting and mangling around your pale bones.

“We can come back whenever?” you whisper, defying their threats.

“Whenever, darlin’. Promise.”

You surrender yourself, letting him take you in his arms and carry you over to your closet, where he sets you down gently. Keeping an arm around your waist, Joel waits patiently as you pick an outfit, and then helps drape it over your frame. You feel more statue than human – solid substance rather than plush flesh. Cold and brittle; the tender touch and lively glow drained from your skin the same way it drains so quickly of energy.

You’ve been fighting for years. Months and months and months of one step at a time and just keep going. Being told you’re more than what’s going on in your brain, being told not to let it become you. But there are days when you stand before the mirror, and you don’t recognize the figure staring back at you. The dark tunnels in place of eyes, the thin line of her lips.

There are days you can see the marks on your skin from how tight your anxiety and depression bind you; wrapping like ivy around your body until there’s nothing left of you to see through the dark green leaves. Just a haggard, shapeless thing. A skeleton too tired to carry the weight of yourself; a heart too weary to beat in time.

There once existed a time you had smiled, even laughed – you know it, you have the lines scored deep into your cheeks to prove it. Sometimes they ache when you think about it, like even they miss the feeling. Joel knows it, too – you sense it whenever he tells some dumb joke, sense that he’s searching your face for the slightest lift, the slightest dip of a dimple. And it fucking kills you, when you realize you have nothing sincere or true to offer him. No swollen cheeks, no flash of teeth. At best, a heavier exhale pushed from your nostrils.

It all feels so long ago, that lighter, fresher, happier you. It feels so far from your clutches. Like you’re drifting further and further from the surface, disappearing into the murky depths of your own mind.

The doctors, the articles, the fucking motivational posts on Instagram all say the same. Keep fighting it. Confront your illness. Prove it wrong. But you’re so fucking tired of fighting. Fighting it the entire drive to work, your heart threatening to burst; fighting it every conversation you have, your façade slowly cracking. Swallowing the panic like you swallow the medication; both of them sticking in your throat and refusing to go down.

There is no fighting it. There is no overcoming through confrontation. If you broke your leg, shattered every bone to dust, would they say the same? You gotta walk on it straight away to make it strong again. You don’t think so.

Joel doesn’t seem to think so, either. Joel, with a heart of molten gold, ready at every turn to let it pour onto your skin and paint it the color of sunlight when you can’t do it yourself. Joel, with his strong arms and wide reach, bundling you up over the top of all that foul ivy and snapping its thick stems with just his fingers.

Joel, who will sit at the edge of your bed and watch you take your meds; kiss your forehead and squeeze you tight when you show him your empty mouth. Joel, who will hold you in the dead of night and tell you stupid stories about his brother when they were kids, rubbing your back and chasing the dark ghosts from your mind.

Joel, who still sees something in you – whether he’s imagining it or not – and decides each day that it’s worth protecting. Worth saving. You’re worth saving, even on the days you don’t believe it yourself.

He drives for ten minutes, a little out of the suburbs and into a thicket of fire-colored leaves and solid, frozen ground. Fall sinks its teeth deep into the roots of the earth, drying up the bloom of summer and replacing it with something harder, something tougher. Nature is dying in the November breeze – the amber leaves painted the color of the trees’ blood as they fight a losing battle against the shifting of time. You feel yourself decaying with it: a drawn-out, painful surrender to the bleak days and dark nights.

Joel keeps his hand on your thigh the entire ride; you keep your fingers intertwined with his. The fluttering in your chest gets quicker and quicker, spreads its wings wider the further you feel from home. Your mouth dries up, forcing you to swallow after every third breath. But his hand stays there, planted on you like the root of an ancient tree: never shifting, no matter how strong the wind throws punches.

A shaky breath falls from your lips when he slows to a halt, the truck parked by a long wooden gate. He cuts the engine and turns to you, squeezing your leg lightly.

“We’re just gonna walk down there,” he nods out the window, “and back again. As slow as you like, ‘n we turn back when?”

“Whenever I want,” you whisper, nodding.

“Whenever you want, darlin’. Just say the word, alright? Sound good?”

You nod, blinking away the strain of tears across your vision. Your knee bounces, the metal buckles on your boots clinking in the footwell.

Joel rubs his thumb against your cheek. Lifts your free hand and places a delicate kiss to your knuckles. “I am so proud of you,” he mumbles against them, like scoring it into the bone.

You fill your cheeks, flattening your lips together, and he pulls on his door handle.

Five paces from the car, you realize how cold it is. The bitter air snaps at your cheeks, drags the salty tears from your eyes. Joel quickly fixes the collar of your jacket and pulls your scarf over your face.

“You bring gloves?” he asks.

Your head shakes in response.

“Here.” He fishes in the pockets of his tan jacket for a dark brown pair, flicking his fingers for you to hold your quivering hands out. He slips them on, all too big for you, and then knots his fingers through yours and leads you on down the sloping backroad.

Bordered by tall trees on either side, you feel secluded and hidden from the rest of the world. It fills you with equal parts comfort and terror: nobody else is here. No one can see your vacant eyes, the wet stain of fallen tears on your cheeks. Not the vice grip you have on your boyfriend or the weak quiver of your voice.

And at the same time: nobody else is here. No people, no sign of life. Just an isolated track, the looming trees overhead, the squelch of muck and the bite of fall for company.

Joel matches your pace, strolling along by your side with your arm through his and his hand resting on top of yours. He catches your glances over your shoulder, sees the jittery movements of your head as you scan the scene around you, and pats the back of your hand tenderly.

“Take a deep breath for me.”

You fill your lungs with a chilly gulp of air, pushing it back out again as steadily as you can.

“And again.”

You repeat the exercise, your chest swelling against your buttoned up coat.

“You’re doin’ great,” he says, looking down at you. “You feelin’ okay?”

“I’m – Yeah, I’m just…” you twist back to search for the wooden gate, “…can’t see the truck anymore.”

“’s right there, promise ya. You wanna go back?”

He pauses, and your boots scuff to a halt on the stony terrain. You chew the inside of your cheek, eyebrows arching to release more tears from between your lashes. “No,” you breathe, “I wanna try to go further.”

“Then let’s try to go further. Yeah?”

You nod, setting off when you realize he’s waiting for you to take the lead.

The fields on either side of you are strung with a thick blanket of mist from one end to the other, masking the trees at the opposite side and obscuring the line between earth and sky. Your body close to Joel’s, your heartbeat attempting to match the steady pace of his, you feel safe, protected. The promise that you can call it a day whenever your body begins to weigh too much, whenever your lungs begin to falter.

Somewhere between the thinning of the hedgerows, another slanted, shabby gate materializes. Its crisscross panels and worn wooden posts separating you from the first company in your twenty-minute walk.

“Joel,” you call, loosening your grip on his arm and wandering over to the long, dewy grass towards a chestnut horse, a sliver of white fur diving deep between her eyes.

She slowly thumps over, huge hooves sinking deep into the soft dirt. Her long tail swishing, navy rug wrapped around her midriff. She docks at the gate, puffing a heavy breath – hot, thick clouds shooting from each nostril.

“Hi,” you say quietly, lifting a floppy-gloved hand for her to sniff. “Joel?” you say again, glancing down at her swollen belly, the low droop of the rug. “I think she might be pregnant.”

She tosses her head up, ears flicking, and nuzzles into the soft material of Joel’s glove. You feel her wrinkled muzzle, the strong, solid bridge of her nose. She blinks slowly; huge, deep brown eyes twinkling in the late-morning light, and you swear she’s trying to communicate something to you.

“Hey, girl,” Joel says, running a careful hand down her mane.

The horse sighs serenely, eyes flitting between the two of you. Her nostrils flare gently, light brown lashes fluttering. You tilt your head, stroking her and letting her teeth graze the sleeve of your jacket. Her bulky head turns to-and-fro, glancing up and down the trail you’re stood on, contently waiting for the passage of time. Enjoying her view from the misty field before it all changes again.

Unexpected and unwelcome, the absence of compression in your chest suddenly makes itself known. Dread spills into your lungs, thick like tar. You turn on your heel and cast Joel one fleeting glance.

He catches it, and without missing a beat, asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Is that okay?”

“’s more ‘n okay, baby. You did so good today. Didn’t she?” he asks the horse, who huffs another hot breath. Joel tosses a thumb towards her. “See?”

You step back over to the animal, now preparing to wander back on home, and give her one last tender stroke. She blinks twice, tosses her head a final time, and her broad body turns, thudding off back up the slope.

As he links your arms again, Joel blinks down at you, the corners of his mouth slowly lifting.

“What?” you ask, shyly.

“Look at you,” he says, nudging your shoulder with a glint in his eye. “You’re smilin’.”

Autumn flashes by as Joel drives you home – ginger and bronze and honey and cinnamon blurring into one as you pass them by. You settle back against the headrest, moving with the sway of the truck, your tired fingers tracing blind shapes on Joel’s palm.

Nature is burning. Perhaps dying is too harsh a term. Burning in preparation for the winter, when it will lay dormant and restful. Quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your feet. Bland, save for the sparkle of frost on your windowpanes. The droplets of beauty laced through, the little reminders that not all has been lost.

I am burning right now, the earth says, but wait until you see what I can become.

The days will turn to night. The sun will tear the sky to tatters, set the whole thing fucking ablaze, go down in a battle stained in red and orange and deep, dark blue – and she will still return, spilling golden all over the horizon. She always does.

The clouds will cover overhead, dampening the color on earth. The blues will fade to gray, the yellows will undoubtedly pale. And then the sky will clear, when it is ready; the clouds will break in two to let a ribbon of cerulean burst through.

The leaves will fall to the ground and feed the soil; new ones will sprout from buds left in their wake. The ground will thaw, will soften again in time to welcome the push of daisies and burst of heather. The horse will foal, the birds will sing to their babies, the buzz of insects will irritate your ears; the rivers will gush and the trees will sway and you will be okay again.

You will be okay again.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #the last of us #tlou #tw mental illness #tw depression #tw anxiety

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seiakii · 1 year ago

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dragneel n. — sfw

summary: you finally came back from a long, long, mission (you were gone for a week)

warning: none! fluffy content <3

notes: i want natsu so bad rn. this is so self indulgent. lowercase intended. it’s been forever since i last wrote, i feel like i’m rusty.

everyone was getting a little fed up with natsu, as he had been causing a lot more fights with everyone lately, though they aren’t too surprised seeing as how you were gone on a mission without him. happy was watching his pink haired friend sulk, an aura of sadness and gloom surrounding him. happy decided to fly over to natsu.

“hey natsu! wanna go fishing?”

“nah man… i’m good.” natsu replied sourly. happy internally groaned. suddenly natsu’s head perked up with his nose sniffing something out. within seconds, the guildhall doors opened up, revealing natsu’s ever so missed girlfriend, you! you walked in looking around before you spot natsu with a grin on his face. he immediately started running towards you, almost stumbling over his own feet.

“you’re back!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body deep into his. you returned the gesture by wrapping your arms around his neck. “yes, i am! i couldn’t stay away from my flame head for too long.” you said between giggles. natsu buried his face into your neck, taking in your scent that he missed so much.

“welcome back y/n. i expect a report on the mission, but i see you may have more important things to deal with.” makarov said while gesturing to the dragon slayer clinging to you. you laughed lightly while nodding. you decided you wanted to go home since you were sweaty and tired from your solo mission. the second you said the word “home” natsu started dragging the both of you there.

when you two reach home you two immediately are pulled into bed, natsu clinging to you as if it was your last day. he was sitting on the bed as you sat on his lap. he pulled his face away from your chest, only for his lips to meet yours. his lips warm against yours, making your whole body warm up. he pulls away, “never go on a mission without me again.” you brought your hands to the side of his face, holding his close to yours.

“never.” you responded.

omlll that was terrible i am so sorry lolll

#natsu #nasty dragneel #natsu x reader #natsu dragneel x reader #nasty fluff #natsu dragneel fluff #fairy tail #anime #fairy tail anime #fairy tail x reader #anime x reader #fan fiction #fluff #anime fluff

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toxic-libra · 4 months ago

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moth to a flame pt.2 - csb (m)

pairing: soobin x fem!reader word count: 6.6k genre: friends with benefits-ish (he helps her with dating tips and stuff), angst if u squint really hard, smut, fluffy, inspired a bit by moth to a flame - the weeknd warnings: 3rd person pov (as always), mentions of reader in love with another guy (haechan <3), slight fwb dynamic, mature content (big dick!bin ofc, oral sex, brief fingering, mirror sex hihihi, protected sex bc yeah important) tagging: @once27, @pageriviera, @gyuzlover, @kookley77-blog, @sendhelpiloveyeonjun, @bunnyspeach, @pagesoobinie, @acidsoju, @cheekycountesschoi, @pinkbabi

[a/n]: part one here, for those who want to read.

Feeling his stomach swirl as he entered Y/N’s apartment wasn’t common, but so wasn’t having a heart-to-heart with Beomgyu minutes before going to a party… And both happened.

Soobin cursed his gullible mind and male weakness. All those weird thoughts and flutterings had nothing to do with real emotions, they were just his head clouded after crossing the line between friends and something else, plus a good blowjob – Beomgyu’s words, minus the ‘good blowjob’, for Soobin preferred to be ran over and buried alive than telling his best friend about his sex life.

Yeonjun was laying on the couch, reading something on his phone. “Y/N’s in her room.”

“Alright.”

The muffled music made him hesitate in knocking. She was listening to some old EDM tracks, something she did whenever getting ready to go out. After the third knock, the noise stopped and he heard the low ‘Come in’.

Opening the door, he put his head inside. “How long until you’re ready?”

Turning around, she smiled. “Oh, hi Bin! And, uh… Five minutes at max.” She pointed to her jewellery box. “Just deciding on accessories. Why?”

“We’re all waiting for you.”

“Mimi too?”

“Yeah.”

“Good Heaven’s, I’m late then.” She chuckled. “Just give me a second.”

He stared at her dressing table, noticing an open bottle of soju. “Drinking already?”

“I’m quite nervous, so...”

“Just try to relax, everything’s gonna be fine.”

If by ‘going to be fine’ Soobin meant ‘dancing instead of trying to flirt with Donghyuck’, then yes, everything was fine. Because from the moment she arrived, until then, Y/N had barely talked to Hyuck, resorting to her own cowardness and seeking refuge at the safety of the dance floor.

It was too soon.

She wasn’t ready for it yet.

She’d probably never be ready for it.

Walking towards the bar, she asked for a shot of vodka. It was her third, and maybe by the fifth she’d be a bit more confident. However, while waiting, a pair of pretty hands rested on the counter by her side, the slender fingers and pale skin catching her attention.

“Choi Soobin.” She forced a grin.

“What are you doing back there? I thought we were supposed to put our plan into action!”

“I kinda… Chickened-out last minute.”

“I already told Hyuck a thousand times how pretty you look today, and how plump your ass looks in this dress, but if you’re not around, there’s no way he can see it!” Soobin rolled his eyes.

Y/N’s breath caught, cheeks warming. “You said that?”

“Of course I did! Wasn’t this the main…”

“You think I look pretty today?” She cut him off, wanting to sound cheeky, teasing even, but it came out shaky, laced by that unwanted shyness and self-doubt.

He frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Isn’t it for the plot, then?”

Soobin moved before his mind calculated the pros and cons of doing such. Hand on her chin, he tipped her face up, thumb trailing her lower lip. “Not everything I do is aiming at our plan, Y/N. You look pretty every day. You are pretty.” He stated as if telling her the sky was blue.

They stared at each other, atmosphere changing and charging with confused, risky thoughts. The way his palm smoothly flattened on her cheek, his finger still on her lip, eyes tender but darkened, and the absolute warmth that came with Choi Soobin himself… Y/N wanted to dive in so bad.

He was her safety-pin.

But before she could act on any emotion, someone tapped her arm, breaking their connection.

“Your shot, miss.” The bartender didn’t look guilty for interrupting.

“Oh, thank you.” Y/N cleared her throat, putting some distance between her and Soobin. Taking a deep breathe, she downed it and turned to him again, holding his hand and intertwining their fingers. “Ok, I’m good now. Let’s go. I’ll try to talk to him a bit.”

Soobin hummed, swallowing an annoyed sigh at the impulse to tug her closer.

First, they stopped by the dance floor so Y/N could tell her friends she’d rest for a while. Walking there wasn’t easy, for the crowd kept blocking their path. Twice, Soobin got elbowed for trying to protect Y/N against the dancers, who moved carelessly to the rhythm – each time, the feeling of her body pressed against his was enough to make the pain of being hit worth it.

Their table was pretty close to the side they got out, but Y/N felt the pang of insecurity again and dragged Soobin to the bathroom area, saying she needed a minute.

Knowing better than pressuring her, he stood at the hall, calmly waiting.

Once alone, she took a deep breath and went for the sink, where the mirror was.

“Get a grip of yourself.” Y/N murmured to her reflection. “Focus on your goal. You got this. Go there, bat your lashes, crack some jokes, smile prettily and go home.”

With Soobin.

She scowled, telling her mind to shut the fuck up.

However, it made sense. If she left with Soobin, they could sleep together and she’d be ready to finally pursue Donghyuck. It was exactly the reason she sought his help, wasn’t it?!

All her resolve crumbled when the first thing she saw after opening the door was a girl all over Soobin. As if on cue, his eyes found hers and he frowned in annoyance, silently pleading to be rescued. Y/N’s mouth twitched in some unexpected anger and possessiveness, jealousy slowly boiling up her blood. The nerve of some girls!

“I’m back, baby.” She smiled wickedly. “Did I take too long?”

“Not at all, love. Let’s go?” Barely looking at the girl, Soobin offered a bowl. And not missing a beat, he took Y/N’s hand.

“She looked like she was bothering you.” Although she didn’t need to explain, she did it anyway.

“She was.” He nodded, fingers intertwining hers. “Are you ready?”

“You want the honest answer or the expected one?”

“Hyuck’s a good lad, you two already talk, so no need to fret.”

“We talk, yeah, but we don’t flirt… I don’t know how to flirt!”

“He’s gonna do all the work, trust me. You stay there just being pretty, looking at him with your starry eyes and perfect mouth and he’ll be sold.”

Soobin thought she was pretty!

Though her eyes starry and mouth perfect!

God, why was her heart racing?! Why did she feel so proud of herself?!

Taking a deep breath, Y/N tried to push those sensations away. “Ok. Let’s do this.”

“You make it sound like a penitence.”

“Being insecure sucks.”

“Just try to relax, I’ll be by your side.” He squeezed her hand tenderly.

“Give me a second, then. Just a second.” She stalled, still quite far from their table.

“You’re overthinking again.” Soobin murmured. “You don’t have to jump his bones, love, but just... Try to interact a bit more, touch his arm while you talk, brightly smile at him and stuff.”

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that? You do it with me, with Yeonjun…”

“It’s different.”

“Because Yeonjun is your kindred spirit and I’m a mere best friend?” He jested, though his face was slightly serious. She rolled her eyes, recognising the banter.

“No!” Y/N groaned. “I mean, in Yeonjunnie’s case, yes. But in yours… It’s different too. A good different.” She quickly added.

“Such as…?”

The same words she uttered to Yeonjun not a day ago floated on her mind. Saying them to Soobin was a risky move – he shouldn’t be her focus here. However, Y/N hated when he acted like Yeonjun was more important to her.

“With you, things are easy. I don’t feel anxious, nor insecure. On the contrary.” She stared at the floor, quite embarrassed of herself. “I feel… Seen. Cared for. Special. It makes sense.”

Soobin blinked, surprised by her words. He never expected that whatever they were doing would affect her this way – she seemed so sure it would help her with Donghyuck and not change anything between them. He knew he’d prefer an easy, calm love over any turbulent feeling, but…

Oh, fuck.

He shut the thought before it fully took form.

“Well, love…” He cleared his throat. “It’s easy because you don’t have a crush on me.” It wasn’t a 100% true, for there were people that fell in love quietly (his parents, for example), but it didn’t apply to their reality. “So, naturally, since you do like Hyuck, you feel more pressured.”

Their eyes met, and her gaze didn’t hold the same assurance it did when she first asked him for help. No, it held a foreign emotion he had yet to see on her – it looked like a mix of confusion and agony… Like she was trying to decipher what she was really feeling.

Like she was second-guessing her crush on Donghyuck.

“How can I help you get more confident to face him now?”

Y/N knew it wasn’t ideal, but he’d proved her once that it didn’t mind how inexperienced she was. She just needed… Reassurance.

“Would you give me a kiss?”

He hesitated. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s cringe, but whenever we kiss, I get that adrenaline rush as if I’m actually a femme fatale or something like that… I don’t know. It stuck in my head ever since you refused my blowjob…”

Thankfully, before she could utter more nonsense, Soobin covered her mouth with his.

The mention of the night he fingered her, but the recent memories of the perfect blowjob, and whatever weird emotions brewed between them were enough to get him into action.

His tongue found hers immediately, a satisfied sigh leaving her lips as her fingers caressed from his long arms to his shoulders and neck, wrapping around his nape. He crowded over her, too tall that even being on her tiptoes wasn’t enough to ease the distance, so he needed to bend a bit more. He circled her waist, pressing her body against his and relishing at her warmth.

They kissed until her mushy brain gave in, deciding she wasn’t ready for Hyuck yet. But she was ready for Soobin. She had been since that night in his kitchen.

“Take me home.” Y/N murmured against his swollen mouth.

Putting some distance, he frowned, unsure if he heard right. “What?”

“Take me home.”

“Are you sure? What about…”

“Home, Bin. Now.” She cut him off, her clipped tone indicating only one thing.

He couldn’t refuse her. Not when the confusion on her pretty eyes had dissolved into lust.

They preferred to leave quietly, mostly because both were trying to ignore what that ‘impulsive’ move actually meant. The silence wasn’t heavy, but it did bother them a bit.

Instead of going to her apartment, Y/N went to his.

Through the darkness, they walked to his room and Soobin thanked God the city lights peeking through the window were enough for them at the moment. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise (not exactly a surprise, but anyway).

She turned to him, vexed, confused and desperate.

“Choi Soobin, I really, really want to sleep with you tonight.”

Although he felt the blow of her confession on his whole body, the only thing he did was suck a breath, letting each word perforate his heart like sharp claws.

“Are you sure, love?”

“Yes.”

And if he was keen to melodramatics, he would’ve fallen to his knees at her consent.

He closed the distance, mouth on hers before she got to say anything else. Before she could even think of regretting what she said. It was manipulative and wrong, but Soobin wanted her too much to give her enough space to think thoroughly about their situation.

Her head fell back mid-kiss, body limp and pliant to his ministrations. Lips closing on the skin of her neck, he prayed the marks would last for weeks. And at the thought of seeing them, he was reminded of the new decoration of his room… The whole reason why he kept themselves in the dark until now, standing at the door like two fools.

Soobin’s hands trembled a bit as he took her dress off. Her skin was ablaze, although goosebumps rose everywhere his fingers touched. He kissed her shoulder, cupping her boobs and pinching a nipple – the moan she let out was pornography, reaching his dick and making it twitch. “Lay down and close your eyes, love.” He ordered, reaching for the lights. When she thumped on the soft mattress, he took a deep breath, expectant. “Now open.”

Y/N was met with her reflection on the ceiling. “A mirror?”

“Got it installed yesterday.”

“Why?”

“Because I liked it?”

“That’s… Very kinky of you, Choi Soobin.”

The dimples showed up, warming her heart at the sight of his boyish smile. “You’re the first one to see it. I didn’t think much when I bought it, but you’re here and it makes sense now… You were right. Everything makes sense with you.” His knee dipped the bed. “Wanna try it?”

Thank God she was laying down, or else her wobbly legs would give in.

Everything makes sense with you.

“Of course I do.”

He gave her another one of his cute smiles, those that didn’t mirror any of his naughty intentions, and took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. “Then keep looking up and see the magic happen.”

She giggled, for his words were a bit cheesy, but her smile died as soon as his mouth touched her collarbones. He left some tender bites while his hands kneading her boobs, then, as her fingers threaded between his dark locks, his lips circled a nipple, sucking and licking the hard bud. Y/N moaned, eyes begging to close, but too entranced by their reflection to do so. She could see his tall frame over her, the way her legs rested at each side of his hips, her own face filled with pleasure.

Soobin kept trailing her body with kisses, until he reached her navel. His teeth scraped near her panties’ waistband, his large hands fondling her chest before coming down to her thighs, grabbing them and keeping them open. Y/N held her breath, attention fixed on the mirror – his head was so close to where she wanted it, she could even feel the warmth of his breath. Then, he sucked her over the fabric, and her back arched, heart fluttering at the sensation… But it still wasn’t enough.

“Fuck, Bin.”

“Is everything ok, love?” His voice was tinted with mirth.

“It’ll be when you take my panties off.” She confessed, too hypnotised by him and blinded by her neediness to be bothered of expressing it.

“So impatient.” But his fingers rolled them down, tossing them somewhere on the floor. Before Soobin could dive in, he glanced above, seeing her now naked body splayed on his bed. “Isn’t it such a nice view?” He mused. “I wish I had eyes behind my head to witness everything.”

And then his mouth was on her, not wasting even a second.

His tongue rippled against her clit, soft, curious. His fingers dug into her thighs, pushing her legs as open as he could. Pleasure sparkled on her veins, the feeling of his lips on her pussy so good, so annoyingly good. She moaned, eyes glued to the mirror above, entranced by the erotic sight and caress. She could see his head moving, could feel his smart tongue bumping her needy bud, drawing figures and learning what she liked, what she tasted. Her hips found enough strength to move together with his ministrations, making one of his hands detach from her plump thighs and force her belly down, trying to keep her still.

Y/N’s eyes couldn’t stay open, no matter how wicked and delightful it was to see everything reflected. Her mind went blank at the buzzing of his mouth on her cunt, lapping and coaxing her orgasm. It was all too much – the weird night they had, being with him, the desperation she felt for him, the need to let him rearrange her insides if he wanted to.

A small cry escaped her lips, mixed with his name, body moving as the high crashed on her like waves at the coast. Soobin groaned in pure satisfaction when her thighs closed around his face, suffocating him a bit, but her release was too sweet of a death for him to mind. He kept licking her, drinking every drop, pussy drunk on her ectasis… Until she forced his head up, pulling at his hair with a painful but delicious tug.

“Fuck, sorry, I–”

“I’m good, love.” He purred in reassurance, knowing he couldn’t give her insecurity any space. “You good too?” He grinned sheepishly.

“Shut up.” She couldn’t help but chuckle, despite her racing heart.

“Is this the kind of treatment I get after making you cum?!” He tsked. “Maybe we should stop, then, if you’re going to be rude…”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “No, I’m sorry.”

His adorable dimples deepened. “Well, if you want to keep going…”

“Please! Please, I’ll be good!” Y/N shook her head like a little girl.

“You really want me to fuck you, huh?”

“Desperately.”

“Or else you’ll go berserk?”

“Exactly.”

“We can’t let that happen.” He moved a bit, lips touching her belly, then the valley between her breasts. “Think you can take my fingers now, love?”

“I can take anything you want me to.”

“Just two fingers, then, or if you’re feeling generous, three.”

Y/N softly hummed. “Anything you want, Bin.”

“Here, suck it for me.” He patted her mouth with his index and middle finger. “Get it wet.”

She obeyed, holding his wrist while her tongue coated his skin with glossy, warm spit.

His eyes never left hers, drowsy and hungry. And when he sunk his digits inside her, without as much as a warning, Soobin couldn’t help but get hypnotised by the way her breath hitched, head falling back on the mattress and legs trying to close around him again. She looked so pretty like that, all pliant to his ministrations, vulnerable and desperate for him.

He was rather uncomfortable in his trousers, but stretching her was his priority – it had to be good for her, she couldn’t get hurt or feel any pain that didn’t hint at pleasurable. He knew he’d feel amazing regardless, so there was no need to rush.

Their figures reflected on the mirror made Y/N’s skin tingle with need. She blinked, dazed by the overstimulation, her belly coiling at each steady move of his hand. Her mouth hung open, lewd moans and whines of his nickname leaving her ever so often.

“Feeling generous?” Soobin kissed her ear, then her neck.

“Magnanimous.” Her voice came out hoarse.

He grinned against her collarbones, inserting a third finger and feeling the immediate clench of her wet cunt. It took his breath away, too. “So fucking snug.” His dick twitched, impatient. “You want to cum again, love? Want on my hands now?”

And as much as she appreciated a second orgasm, she wanted to cum together. Finding his gaze, she shook her head. “Want it with you.”

“With me?” He echoed, biting another smile. “How magnanimous, indeed.”

“Please, I’m ready. I know I can take you!”

There was her clipped tone again, and Soobin knew he had her where he wanted. Brows furrowed in frustration, Y/N stared at him like a princess on the verge of a tantrum out of sheer pettiness. He slowed down until stalling completely, not holding back his smirk.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Y/N supposed that being called ‘cute’ after begging for a guy’s dick wasn’t exactly the most flattering eulogy, however, her heart warmed at the compliment. She didn’t get to comment, though, for he left the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and dropping them on the floor, briefs coming along. Going for his nightstand, he took a condom off – although he knew Y/N offered him no danger (and vice-versa), it’d be better if they kept it wrapped for the time being.

She tried not to ogle him while he put the condom on, tried not to feel wetter at the expectation of having him inside her… And failed miserably.

When Soobin hovered her again, cradling her jaw and tilting her face up, stealing a slow kiss, any inch of doubt for the decisions she took that night left her like lightening.

It had to be Soobin.

It made sense, indeed.

And she wanted that more than she wanted a lot of things before.

He rolled around, bringing her body with his, putting her on top and ending the kiss with a bite on her neck. “You want to ride me? That way you can control how much you’re gonna take and I won’t hurt you.” He suggested, a hand pushing her hair off her shoulder so he could kiss there better. “And I get to enjoy the view a bit.” His chuckle was wicked.

“Hmm… We can try…” Her heart soared on her chest as he laid down against the headboard.

Well, they were doing that.

She was finally having sex again after ages.

Y/N spat on him over the condom and smeared it as she pumped his shaft. Frowning slightly, she wondered how he’d fit – yes, he was the famous cliché ‘big and thick’, not at all like the other two guys she had slept with. With wobbly legs and a pinch of insecurity, she circled his hips and aligned him on her hole. Soobin tried to keep his attention on the mirror, but as she sat on his dick, his focus diverted – he couldn’t help the deep groan that left his throat at her snugness and warmth. He was only past the tip when she stopped.

“Too big.” She gulped. “It hurts.” Her eyes weren’t teary, but they stung.

“Slow down, love. Don’t rush.” He gritted his teeth, remaining quiet despite the urge to thrust fully in. “Look up, it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.” Maybe the visual stimulation would get her wetter and make it easier for him to slide in without the pain. She obeyed, her head falling a bit as she faced above. Before she could move again, one hand rested on her waist and the other on her boob, pinching a nipple. “How’s that?”

“Good.” Her voice came out breathy.

“Maybe if I…” His mouth landed on the beak, sucking it.

Y/N immediately moaned, sinking a bit further on him. “So good.”

He changed sides, and her fingers threaded on his hair, tugging at the locks. She was mesmerised by the sight, as he predicted. There was something rather intimate in seeing themselves on the mirror – his face buried on her bosom, her sitting on him, her pleasured expression…

“It’s taking everything in me…” Soobin swallowed a groan, hands now on her ass, groping the flesh with too much strength. “Not to thrust in fully.”

She let out an airy chuckle. It was painful for her, but he probably was having it way worse. So, gathering the remains of courage she still had, she forced her hips down, trying to get most of his length in. “Maybe if you weren’t so big…” Her voice came out strained, bottoming down. “God, this hurts. It’s like I’m a virgin all over again.”

Soobin moaned, dick twitching at the primitive idea of being her first. It was quite an outdated thought, but he was quite possessive and romantic himself, so he couldn’t control his own mind.

“Hi.” He murmured against her jaw, leaving small bites there, hoping they would distract them both – for completely different reasons.

“Hi.” Y/N smiled.

“You’re unbearably so tight, love.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t say that. It’s not a bad thing!”

“Just hang in there for a second, please? Just until the burn goes away.” She stole a peck, thumb caressing his cheek. “I promise it won’t take long.”

This time, instead of a peck, she kissed him. Their tongues met in a sensual dance, her torso pressed against his while his hands didn’t know whether to stay on her plump ass or go back to her waist. His digits left fire where they touched, and Y/N melted on the kiss. Instinctively, she rocked her hips just a bit… Soobin’s grip tightened on her.

“Love, don’t. If you’re not ready, don’t.” He warned.

“I think I am. Eventually, it’ll get better, right? So...”

They looked up briefly, grinning at the sight. Her moves were sloppy, slow, only testing how to work that out, how to ease the pain so it would become pleasurable. Then, Soobin kissed her neck again, leaving purple marks without caring about the aftermath. She found more stability, hips going up and down as he helped her, pushing her ass in sync.

“You’re driving me insane.” Soobin groaned, searching her mouth.

That made Y/N smirk. It was so weird how he made her feel this good. At his every reaction, she felt her confidence awakening, felt some sort of inner power brewing together with pleasure. The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing unnaturally, while she tried to conceal her pace and the caress. She tugged at his hair, nails burning his scalp and making him see stars.

“Help me go fast.” Y/N begged. “H-How?”

“I’ll take charge now, ok? Feeling good?”

“Ok, yes. Please. Fast.” She panted against his lips.

Soobin let his weight on top of her, hands at each side of her face, the good ol’ missionary. The new position offered a perfect angle to hit her sweet spot, not to mention how intimate it was. Sure looking at their reflection was hot, however, witnessing her expression of pure bliss was hotter. And knowing it was him who made her feel that way was… Surreal. Picking up his pace, he tried to go as fast as he could, tried to make every wish of hers command.

She held onto his forearms, back arching with each thrust. It had been so long since she felt this good, and later on she’d regret wasting so much time with her ‘celibacy’ – but right now… Right now, she didn’t want to think of anything other than Choi Soobin.

She couldn’t.

Everywhere she looked, every breath she took, every one of her cells were filled with him. Pleasure boiled together with her blood, buzzing through her body, raw, conquering. Their gazes locked, her name leaving his mouth in that husky timber he had, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, lips swollen from the millions kisses they shared…

It was too much.

“Bin,” She panted. “I’m coming.”

God, he almost collapsed at her words. Sneaking a hand between them, he found her clit, circling it and rubbing it just right. Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, legs trembling as her pussy clenched repeatedly when she reached her climax, moaning his name like a prayer.

Hypnotised, Soobin followed like a moth to a flame. If Y/N was the deathly light, he’d perish proudly, peacefully. Lost in her, he spilled inside the condom, thick, strong, intense. Her name on his lips like the only language he knew, her face the only memory he would dare to remember.

And in the afterglow, he secretly wished it could last forever.

Y/N didn’t know much about ‘morning after’s to act like a normal adult woman would. As soon as she woke up, with Soobin’s tall frame pressed against her back, she started scheming how she could flee to her apartment without raising too much suspicion. If Beomgyu was already awake and at home, she was doomed – however, if he was asleep, she still had a chance.

Untangling herself from Soobin’s embrace, Y/N cringed a bit at her sore muscles. He stirred in his slumber, a delicious groan escaping his throat as he turned to the wall’s side.

Oh, dear Lord.

Not even aiming to the bathroom first, she opened the door and poked her head out, looking to both sides and listening to the quietness of the flat. Walking on tip toes, she reached the hall, noticing neither Beomgyu’s nor Mimi’s shoes and coats were there.

Excellent.

She couldn’t go back home because they were there.

Locking herself on the bathroom wasn’t her smartest idea, but she needed to pee and wash up. When she looked at the mirror, her reflection told her everything she didn’t want to know. The glow on her face, Soobin’s marks on her neck, her dishevelled hair… What a fantastic, dangerous night she had. How was she supposed to get back on track?

Was it even possible?

Turning on the shower, she ordered herself to breath. People had one-night-stands, there was no need for her to fret. Actually, when she asked for Soobin’s help, she had that in mind… So why was she so… Antsy? Confused? Dazed?

And then, after the kitchen episode, they agreed to talk about whatever made them awkward. How could she talk about last night?! When ‘awkward’ was absolutely the last thing it was, but…

She needed some time alone.

She needed to think.

Turning off the shower without even getting inside, she decided dealing with Beomgyu was easier than dealing with whatever was going on with her right now. Gathering her dress and panties from the floor, Y/N made to the door, wrapping herself on her coat and putting on her shoes.

It wasn’t the dreadful ‘walk of shame’, however, it wasn’t a prideful one either.

She knew Soobin would be disappointed at her for running away first thing in the morning. Well, he’d have to let her off the hook for this one.

Typing the password, Y/N made way to her bathroom, safely locking herself up. Drawing a bath would be better than showering, and so she did, promising to deal with happened later on.

The cold, short replies on their chat made Soobin’s belly churn unpleasantly. Well, he only had himself to blame. Was it too soon to push her to another man’s arm? Maybe. But if he didn’t do it now, he’d want her all to himself… And she didn’t want him the same, as his empty room so kindly illustrated when he woke up alone near lunch that Sunday (not even a goodbye message left!).

In trying to play cupid, he scheduled another PC Bang meeting. And as they walked there, side to side, avoiding to touch each other, Soobin realised he lost her. The nonchalant girl by his side wasn’t his best friend anymore, and he didn’t know what to do with all the emotions that brewed inside him – from last night, from this night, from the tragic but obvious future…

The PC Bang was too crowded for their liking, so they ditched it for fried chicken and beer. Instead of taking her usual place between Yeonjun and Soobin, this time, Y/N waited for Soobin to sit and sat in front of him. Although the distance was inexpressive, she felt a bit… Safer.

It was already difficult to focus on Donghyuck when Soobin was nearby. And now that she had slept with him, it was ten times worse. Before she could get a grip of herself, her restless mind was flooded by flashes of last night; and when their eyes met, she felt her stomach tighten.

Was he thinking about it too?

Was he aware of her uneasiness towards him?

Was he trying his best not to touch her at any given chance?

Because she felt like fighting a lost battle.

“Yeonjunnie texted.” She looked up from her phone. “They’re almost here. I’ll wait outside!”

“It’s quite cold, stay inside.” Soobin reached for her hand, stalling her.

“He’s a bit sour that we left yesterday without warning, so I want to appease him.” She explained, hoping the goosebumps were from the chilly air. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“You spoil him too much.”

“I spoil everyone I care for, Bin.” She held his gaze for a heartbeat later, then forced a giggle and left – hoping they haven’t noticed how desperate she was to be alone.

Going there was a mistake.

Soobin’s attention remained on Y/N until she disappeared through the entrance door. With a resigned sigh, he took a sip of his beer and relaxed against the booth.

“You two could stop eye-fucking each other in public.” Hyuck chuckled next to him.

“What?”

“Y/N and you. I get it’s the beginning and everything’s quite out of control, but I’m feeling weirdly shy here. Like I’m intruding.”

“What about Y/N and I?” Soobin frowned, somehow knowing where that was going.

“Dating, duh. Everyone knows it already, you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

God, that was so wrong. That was so, so wrong and it would come to bite him in the ass later, but Soobin couldn’t help it anymore. “Everyone noticed, then.”

“I don’t know how you planned to keep it a secret when you two are going on dates non-stop, and I saw you making-out next to the bathrooms yesterday.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry you got to see that.” His chuckle was forced, since he fought against despair for ruining Y/N’s plan and the unwanted triumph for people thinking she was his.

“Nah, it’s ok. I thought something was fishy when you started bringing her to our meetings often, and you just couldn’t stop talking about her… I just had to put two and two together.” Hyuck shrugged. “She’s a nice girl, bro. I’m glad you found someone good for you.”

“Thanks.”

He was so, so fucked.

Three days later

Y/N had given it enough thought. For the past three days, she witnessed Beomgyu arriving at her flat with brownies, cookies and another Nutella bread… Apparently Soobin was thinking, too. About what? She wasn’t so sure. As for her, she went through all the pros and cons of ending their agreement, of still pretending to want Donghyuck. She knew maybe that was all she would get from Soobin – maybe her mind did play tricks and he actually didn’t like her back. She knew she probably would end up with a broken heart, however, she couldn’t keep that going.

It made no sense anymore.

Not when her feelings for Soobin bloomed like ivy, getting her covered in them.

That’s why, like the day she suggested their agreement, mid-Anime episode, she muttered:

“I think we should stop.”

Soobin didn’t react at first. He was so enthralled by the story, fingers mindlessly playing against her thigh, drawing figures and reminding her why that conversation was necessary. “Mhmm. The episode is almost finished, we can do something else later.”

“No, Bin. We should stop.” She put some distance between them. “Us.”

“What?” He looked at her, confused. “Why?”

“I… I think we should stop seeing each other for a bit.”

Dread pulsed through Soobin, turning his body rigid. Her face dropped, and he read all the wrong emotions there. Shaking his head, he forced himself to stand up, rage and guilt finding their way to his mouth. Before he could articulate any proper thought, his impulsiveness got the best of him.

“You promised nothing would change between us!” He quipped. “You promised we’d still be friends after everything, Y/N. You swore!”

She felt her eyes burning, but as always, she didn’t cry. “I know what I said, but…”

How could Soobin come clean, anyway? She wanted to stop seeing him, probably because after letting him fuck her in the best way possible, she really noticed how strong her feelings for Hyuck were… Although Hyuck thought she was his girlfriend.

They were doomed from the beginning.

“Now I’ve lost you twice.” He turned around, ready to flee from that overwhelming bubble of unsaid feelings. “I knew things wouldn’t end up good, but I still did it… And now I’ve lost you again.” Not even a step was taken when he felt her fingers on his arm.

“Bin, wait.”

“I don’t have the energy to deal with this now.”

“But if we don’t talk, then how…”

“He thinks we’re dating, Y/N.”

“P-pardon?” She froze.

“Donghyuck thinks we’re dating, that’s why keeping this is pointless. He won’t be interested in his friend’s girl.” Soobin looked at her over his shoulder. “But we’re not dating, are we?” He knew exactly what was going through her mind, knew those turbulent eyes better than anyone else. “And I didn’t correct him.” The words came out heavy, poisoned. “Aren’t you asking me why?”

She gulped. “Why?”

“‘Cause yeah, he might be a good match for you, you might have something in common and he’s a nice dude… But will he help you out of your shell like I do? Will he be alright with Yeonjun’s place in your life like I am? Will he…” ‘Love you like I do?’. It was on the tip of his tongue, however, Soobin remained silent. It was too soon for that. “I’m sorry things ended up this way.”

The hand around his pulse tightened. “Aren’t you going to fight for me, then?”

“What?”

“So you tell me all this, but don’t say the only thing that matters?! And you expect me to do what?! How can I feel safe enough to confess my feelings for you when you’re about to leave with a lame ass ‘sorry, I can’t deal with this’, as if it wasn’t obvious I feel the same?!” She sounded angry, and Soobin turned around, finding her scowling at him. “God, Bin, it stopped being about Donghyuck the moment I had your fingers inside me! I get I was kinda slow to notice, but you could’ve guided me to the right path! You’ve been guiding me all along anyway!”

“You realise you just confessed to me, right?” He was half amused, half confused.

Y/N hesitated. “I do.”

“You don’t get to take it back.” He shook his head, coming for her.

“I don’t.” She agreed.

“Say it again, full words now.” Soobin held her chin up, eyes locking with hers.

“I’m not being the one to take the first step again, Bin. I did it twice, it’s your turn now!”

He had some cheesy lines on the tip of his tongue, but she was right. She deserved something genuine after being brave enough for both of them.

“I love that you trusted me to take you off your shell, to help you find confidence and bloom. I love that you were crazy enough to cross the line for both of us, because if you haven’t… I wouldn’t be here now.” Without warning, he stole a peck, relishing on her surprised moan. “I love that you showed me all your versions and let me fall in love with each of them. I love that it’s you and that I get to tell you that it’s you, Y/N. I love you. For real.” She blinked, and Soobin’s eyes winded. “W-Wait a minute! Is this… A teardrop?”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the wet drop on her cheek. “Well, you can’t get all poetic and expect me to be unphased by it! Not after trying to give me up like the hero of a sappy book would!”

“I didn’t know, love.” He shook his head, wiping another tear. “I didn’t know you felt the same. You’re so good at channelling everything, I misread it.”

“I can’t hide much when it’s about you. You make sense, and you make me special.”

“You are special, love. To me.”

“You’re special to me too, Bin. Thanks for deciding on helping me despite the risks.”

“To have you in the end, I’d do it all over again.”

“I love you, Bin. Sorry it took so long.”

“It didn’t take long, we both were just… A bit blind.”

She smiled, agreeing and kissing him again. Now, with honest feelings out in the open, she noticed that the anxiety from before had disappeared. It wasn’t that she was insecure and shy, she was just focusing on the wrong gamer guy.

thank you all for reading <33

as always, english is not my first language, so any mistakes please feel free to tell me!

#soobin scenarios #soobin smut #txt scenarios #txt smut #txt #marieverso

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askinkiskarma · 1 year ago

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➸ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ɴɪɢʜᴛ

pairings: simon "ghost" riley x female!reader

a/n: well i was laying in bed and this came to me and i wrote bits of it at like 1 in the morning 2 days ago and had time to complete today, so hope you enjoy some boyfriend!simon smut xxx

warnings: p w some p under the cut (18+ mdni), pet names (doll, love), maybe the teensiest amount of angst?, praise, p in v, this got fluffy in the end who am i??

wc: 1k words

my taglist (x)

Ghost who sneaks past your entrance and into your bedroom whenever he comes back from a mission, quiet as the dead of night until he slips past your covers and feels your warm, inviting body, calling to him like a siren calls to a sailor lost at sea. He feels at home as takes off his mask, his rugged palms clinging to your skin like you were his life support machine. He missed you, he needs you. Needs to feel your tight little cunt wrap around him and not let go, needs to feel your breath fan over his face as he thrusts into you, as he falls asleep spent and empty of any thoughts but you, his cock still buried deep inside your walls until the morning.

He feels you stir in your sleep, soft trills as your consciousness emerges from the deep state of relaxation you found yourself in. He could have sworn you were dreaming, he could have sworn you wouldn’t notice him, not for a while. But in truth, your life was spent in all the moments you worried he died, and the ones you hoped he didn’t - perched on a particularly sturdy olive branch you hope he’d take, so that he can return safely home to you. You knew him, in your heart and soul, every inch and crevice of your body memorising him like the national anthem you’ve had to know since you were a kid to recite on command for extra credit. So when he touched you, like a moth to a flame, you felt your skin catch fire and your nerves come alight with relief… and desire... and anticipation.

“I missed you, big guy.”

You feel him, his hard thick cock twitching and tickling your back, the velvety smooth feel enticing even in your half-dazed state. You turn around haphazardly, smirking as your hands reach for his face, tracing the familiar scars and the outline of his lips, that parted until your touch, a sharp exhale enough to show you how badly he wanted you. His cock was throbbing in need as he buried it in between your thighs, the slicking dripping down your ass making the slip facile and particularly pleasurable.

“Fuck, I missed you. So much. I need you. I need you s'badly.”

“Then take me, Simon. I’m yours. All yours to take.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, sliding his length into you at a torturous pace, hell bent on feeling every ridge of your walls as they engulfed him slowly, your moans getting louder and lewder with every inch he got closer to your cervix, until you’d feel so full you were sure you felt him in your ribcage. His growl was low and feral, unrestrained as he bottomed in you, his favourite place in the world, the only place he wouldn’t mind getting lost forever, the only place that felt like heaven, like the shelter from the storm.

“That’s right. S’good for me. Always taking me so well.”

You bury your head in his neck, mewling desperate pleas as you leave traces of your own in his skin, lovebites and bruises you knew he’d display proudly tomorrow. Ghost wasn’t a shy man by any means, and he loved to own you and be owned by you, loved to mark you, loved to pump you full of his cum so it drips out of you for days to come, so that every time it did, you remembered who you belonged to, whose heart you stole and refused to return until you held it carefully in your palms and stitched it back together.

“Please, Simon. Fuck me. I need it, please.”

“Shh, love. Gon’ fuck you nice and rough, like I know you like. Gon’ be limping for days when I’m done with this pretty pussy, hmm? Just not tonight. Tonight, I just need to feel you. I need to feel you milking me dry. Can you do that for me, doll?”

There were no words, no coherent thoughts as he started a slow, purposeful pace of his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you, electrifying each inch of your now sweaty, heaving body. It felt so good, being filled by him after so long, feeling his heavy balls slap against your folds with each increasingly more desperate movement, hearing his grunts and groans like music in your ears from how good it felt to have you tighten and squeeze him over and over, both your orgasms so near you could practically taste them.

“Need words, baby girl. Want to cum? Want me to pump you nice and full of my seed? Want me to show you how much I missed’ya?”

“Y-yes, Simon, f-uck! Please!”

It was finally too much, when his fingers found your swollen clit and put just enough pressure to tip you over the edge, the loud mewls drowning out the ringing in your ear as you both rode out your orgasm, heightened and prolonged by the thick ropes of warm cum that he continued to fuck back into you until you were an overstimulated mess, crying in his chest.

“I know, I know...did so well for me.”

When the high subsided, with him still buried deep in you, you felt sleep finally envelop you gently as you discussed whatever you could about the mission, and as he paid close attention to every detail about your life while he was gone that you could still muster up in your state. His life was chaos and hell and death always… except right now. Except when he was with you. As long as he felt his own heartbeat in your skin when he held you tightly, his life was heaven and peace. His life was worth it.

He never said i love you. He couldn’t. Everything he loved got taken away from him…but not you. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t. But you knew. Somehow, you knew. As he nuzzled his head in your hair as you both stumbled back to sleep, you smiled, your voice a melodious wonder he never stopped marvelling at.

“I love you too, Simon.”

taglist: @codsunshine

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pearlywritings · 1 year ago

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Don't let your worry reach your eyes

synopsis: waking up you don't find your husband next to you. Yet he is not that far - but what is he doing sitting in front of a mirror?

prompt: 17

requested by: a lovely anon

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: fluff, domestic moment, established relationship (you are married), talk about kids

word count: 1.3k+ words

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

It’s hard to grasp the line where the dream ends and reality starts when the evening is serenely quiet. You are sure that the winery staff has long but departed home and now are sharing your fortune of basking in the sweet embrace of sleep, while nature, surrounding your tranquil home, is slowing down too, saving the beautiful sounds and blooming colors for the next day.

All that was paving you a road to the dreamland, drawing you further and further in its everlasting fields and high above the fluffy clouds. You’ve almost reached your destination, a castle full of enchanting adventures, but a flicker of a candle and the barely heard heavy sighs are firmly holding you onto the earthly ground. Or bed, more specifically.

Carefully, not yet ready to open your eyes and chase the sweet drowsiness away, you glide your palm over the sheets to the side, ready to bump into the warm body of your beloved and ignore the candle completely. Yet there is no body, no warmth and no wrinkles left, which rings a little bell. It appears that sleep has come only to you, and now you forcefully push it away.

Sitting up is not a hard task, though blinking away the haziness is, but soon you manage to focus your sight. A quick look around the room doesn’t give any indication of something being odd, until your eyes land on the broad back of your husband. You stare at it a second, then another, tilting your head to the side once noticing his position - sitting on a padded stool in front of a mirror, the previously mysterious candle clearly put in a place to cast a light onto his face. Well, that’s new.

Slowly you push the blanket off, baring your legs and throwing them over the edge of the bed. Diluc has heard you from the first rustle of the sheets, but turns around to glance at you only when you are almost at his side.

“You know you shouldn’t walk barefoot?” He softly murmurs, when you stop behind his back and bend down to wrap your arms around his middle.

“You know you shouldn’t stay up so late?” Beating his question with one of your own, you bury your face in his hair - untied and streaming down his shoulders they remind you of those fluffiest clouds from your dreams. “Since we are on topic of that, why are you still up, love?”

You decide against commenting on the way he is sitting in front of a huge mirror, which is now reflecting the two of you. The man in your arms sighs - like you heard through your sleep - and puts a firm hand on the lock of yours resting on his stomach. Two wedding bands catch the candle’s flame.

“I was…thinking.”

‘I noticed,’ you almost say when he directs his gaze back to the smooth surface.

“What about?” You start playing with his fingers, putting your chin on his shoulder and trying to follow his eyes to understand what in his appearance - at that point you are sure it’s something close - got him so silently worked up.

“Do I look mean to you?”

You blink. Then blink again. Then move forward to look into his face to see if he is joking. But by the lack of a hint of a smile and trembling flames in the depths of his crimson eyes tell you he is definitely not.

“To me - never. You are the biggest, gentliest, loveliest and most handsome sweetheart of a husband to me,” the softness of your words paints his palish cheeks lightly pink and the corner of his lip twitches in a restrained smile. “But when you do try to give me a glare if I am being insufferable - I find it hot, not vile.”

The scoff he gives makes you giggle, and you hurry to press a gentle kiss to his nose.

“It’s just…” he sighs again, carefully tugging on your ring, sliding it half off and back up. “I am often told I have a mean glare...”

“Definitely not. Anywho says that has never truly looked at you,” your tone is soothing and you press another kiss to his skin, this time to the cheek.

“I never truly cared,” he confesses what you are already aware off, “but today a patron at the tavern, whom I was in the middle of throwing away,” you quietly snort, hiding your face in his shoulder again, “told me that with such mean eyes I’ll never be loved by my children if I ever have any.”

“Hell no he didn’t,” you gasp, staring at Diluc again. “If I were you I would’ve punched him.”

“As amusing as it sounds, please don’t,” the man ushers you and in a moment you are in his lap, with your arms wrapped around his neck, and his tightening their hold on your waist. “But it did get me thinking - what if our baby will find me scary? What if my gaze won’t be soft or loving enough?”

“If you are worried about that, then that’s already an indicator that you’ll do great,” lately you’ve been having occasional conversations about extending your little family, but you weren’t aware to this day just how seriously Diluc considered that. There is no denial that it makes your heart soften and love him even more. “Though I don't think you should be concerned, dear. Don’t you notice? Klee, Benny, Fischl, Razor and many other kids and teens look at you in awe and adoration - and they always look into your eyes. Would they look into them if they were mean?”

Diluc is silent for a mere couple of seconds, but that’s enough for you to see the extend of his worry.

“...I suppose they wouldn’t.”

“They definitely wouldn’t. Diluc, my love, you have the most vibrant eyes I’ve ever seen a person possess. So many shades of crimson affection whenever you look at someone you love or care for - I am the direct recipient of those feelings,” there is a smile finally and you nearly attack him with kisses, but you should finish your thought first. “And I have no doubt that our future child will become one as well.”

There is a long sigh, but the defeated hang of his head tells you that once again the victory is yours - it’s always been easy to convince your lover of something you believed were right, and you internally cheer for yourself and then physically pat the top of his head.

“Thank you, my flame,” oh, and those very same eyes shine brightly and it’s not the candle’s fault- it’s yours. “I’ll remind myself of this conversation whenever I’ll be questioning myself,” it’s only you in the crimson pools of his gaze, the mirror is finally completely forgotten and it breaks the atmosphere of lingering brooding.

“And I’ll be happy to have this conversation again. Maybe from now on I should carry a Kamera with me to capture every moment you give me a lovesick look to prove my point.”

When he gives you what he thinks is a ‘mean’ look, you only chuckle and move closer to capture his lips in a fleeting kiss.

“Nope, it sure looks sexy.”

“That’s it, you need sleep,” with a wave of his fingers the candle goes out.

“Ehe, WAIT..!”

With a soft squeal you are hoisted up when your husband stands up and are carried to the bed, where two bodies end up falling onto with laughter and many sweet kisses shared. As you settle under the blanket, with his warm body pressed closely to yours, Diluc can’t stop thinking of what you said earlier. Back then, in front of the mirror, he tried to imagine what he’d look like, gazing at his child, what kind of eyes he’d have when interacting with them. But he couldn’t see that clearly.

Now he can. And he is content.

#pearlywritings appreciation event #token of appreciation #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact fluff

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vashs-turtleneck · 4 months ago

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Deep Breath.

✧ Vash the Stampede fluff

Rating: G Summary: Surprising Vash with his birthday cake(s) on his special day. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader Word Count: 1.5k Content: fluff, slight angst. Song Rec: Before We Drift Away - Nothing But Thieves

“Happy birthday to you~”

Your soft voice fills the air as you set a large, fluffy cake on the table in front of him before he hears you scurry back to the dainty little kitchen. In the days leading up to Vash's birthday, you had told him over and over again how excited you were to see him celebrate the date properly. You helped plan out your travels to ensure the two of you were settled in a comfortable, quiet town where he would hopefully not be chased out before his special day. While he admittedly wasn't too fond of the idea of taking a whole day to celebrate himself, and he especially didn't like that you were using up your time worrying about him, he didn't have the heart to shoot down your enthusiasm. Not when he saw you beaming with joy at the prospect of being able to celebrate with him. He'll do it for you, he told himself. To make you happy.

So here he is, sat in an old inn, on a rickety chair, in front of the cake you so lovingly prepared for him. The entire surface is covered in dozens upon dozens of mismatched candles, save for the parts where you wrote in crimson icing. Through all the flames (which he deems must be some sort of fire hazard), he makes out the two words you wrote:

‘Happy’ along the top.

‘Vash’ along the bottom.

Uh– he's a bit confused. Happy, of course, but confused, though he doesn't have much time to dwell on it before he hears your little sing-song voice again.

“Happy birthday to you~”

And he's certainly surprised when you set another cake down in front of him, another one completely stacked with candles, and he's starting to think about how dry and old the walls of the inn are as he reads the writing on this one too.

‘Birth’ at the top, ‘The’ at the bottom.

He sees where you're going with this, and your silly idea makes him snicker.

“Happy birthday, dear Vash.”

A third cake, just as aflame as the first two, and this time he can't hold back the laugh that leaves him, almost blowing out a few of the tiny flames as he does, and his chest is warm as he thinks about how long it must've taken you to set and light up all these candles.

‘Day’ written at the top, and of course, ‘Stampede’ etched beneath, the word barely legible from how you had to smush all the letters together to get it to fit along the bottom of the cake.

“Happy birthday to you!”

This is definitely different from the last time he celebrated his birthday, when there was just one little candle to share between him and his brother, and Rem's face was hidden behind a camera. He can feel the emotions these memories well up inside him, and he does his best to bury them back down. For your sake. He doesn't want to ruin this special moment you've worked so hard to give him, after all.

Your soothing presence stands behind him with one of your hands resting on his shoulder while the other traces the lines of his cheek and jaw, the gesture absentminded, but heartwarming all the same, like loving him comes so naturally to you. You dip your head down to his level, resting your chin on his shoulder and your breath tickling his ear as you speak,

“It’s supposed to say ‘Happy birthday, Vash the Stampede.’”

“I can read, mayfly,” he chuckles, tilting his head towards you and pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek.

“Just checking. Making sure you're not going senile on me in your old age.”

“Mhmm. Touché,” he says with a smile tugging at his lips, his cerulean eyes fixed on the hellfire in front of him, and the sight makes him snort a laugh again. “But mayfly, you didn't have to spend all this money buying me three cakes. One would have been more than enough.”

“Firstly, I'll have you know I made the cakes, thank you very much.” You stand up by his side, bringing a hand to your hip. “Secondly, even if I did buy them, it would be worth every double dollar. You deserve to blow out all your candles, and I couldn't fit them all on one cake.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, a sly smirk on his face. “Or two cakes, apparently.”

“Do you know how old you are!? The candles were actually the most expensive part! I bled this town dry of birthday candles,” you retort, a little pout forming on your lips that he just wants to kiss away. You swat his shoulder, and he huffs out an ‘oof’ in mock pain just to see you smile at his dramatics.

“Enough about all that. You have to make a wish, sweetheart.”

Oh. Right. You're supposed to make a wish and blow out all your candles on your birthday. Something he only got to experience once all those years ago.

Two human lifespans ago, really.

A wish, though? What's he supposed to wish for? You've given him so much more than he ever thought possible, and now he's supposed to ask for even more? Maybe he should keep it vague and simple and wish for love and peace? Ah, but that feels like the easy way out, and you clearly used too much of your valuable time on these cakes for him to cop out like that.

He's spent his long life with so little, trekked through valleys of sands all on his lonesome for so long, seen far too many people come and go for him to count, but he can remember the names and faces of each and every person he's had the pleasure (or displeasure) of meeting, all while his face has stayed the same.

Time has always been an enemy of Vash the Stampede. A human lifespan could never compare to that of a plant's, and humans are so much more… fragile. So, if he could just get more time with you. To hold you in his arms for just a while longer. A few more moments like this. A few months. A few years.

Would it be selfish to ask for a few decades together?

Would it be too much to ask for the rest of your time?

Even if it means standing by as he watches himself lose everything, watching as you get swallowed up by the sands of time, all while his face stays the same?

“You know, I don't mean to rush you on your special day or anything, but I think this might be some kind of fire hazard.” Your words cut through the thick fog clouding his tumultuous mind, and he quickly shakes himself from his thoughts.

“Right, right. Sorry. Just thinking.”

“Nothing dumb, I hope?” you hum in response, and he chuckles out a little laugh. He hasn't laughed this much on a July 21st in a long, long time.

“Maybe a little bit dumb.”

“I'll allow it only because it's your birthday,” you say back, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Now, deep breath, angel. Show these candles why they call you the humanoid typhoon.”

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him. Three cakes, all covered in a comical amount of candles, and he doesn't doubt that you counted out exactly as many as you needed. As absurd as it all is, you did this. And you did this all for him.

He thinks about how this would've been a lot easier 50-something years ago, but he's going to give it his best regardless, because he really, really wants his wish to have a chance. Taking in the deepest breath his lungs can hold, until his chest is puffing out, Vash blows out each and every one of the dozens of candles you've so lovingly inlaid into his three cakes, until every last one bleeds out thin lines of smoke in the air, and for once he's thankful this inn is so cheap that they didn't bother with a smoke detector.

At his side, you clap enthusiastically at his rather impressive display. “You did make a wish, right?” you ask, and your head is back on his shoulder.

“I did. Don't worry.”

‘For many more birthdays with you,’ but if he says that aloud, it won't come true now will it?

“Good. You deserve it,” you say as you give him a hard, wet kiss to his face that smushes his cheek, and Vash feels his heart squeeze tight. “I'll cut you a slice, and maybe next year I'll make four cakes to spread out all the candles better. Hope you're okay with eating cake for three meals a day for a while, by the way.”

“You know there's candles with just numbers, right? Just use those next time.” And oh, does he hope for a next time.

“Nah, that's not as fun.”

A ridiculous idea, but he'll go along with it. For your sake, of course.

divider.

#vash the stampede #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #vash #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stamepde #vash the stampede x you #vash x you #vash x reader #vash fluff #vash the stampede x you fluff #vash the stampede fluff #vash the stampede x reader fluff #vash x you fluff #vash x reader fluff #pipwrites

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exactlycleverpirate · 8 months ago

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Wholehearted

Apparently today I woke and chose pain.

Rafayel x F MC fanfic. Angst. Hurt, no comfort (I lied, there is a little comfort at the end, should you desire it.) Spoilers for myth and possibly other Rafayel content. Short (660 words).

This is what I wrote instead of finishing the Abysswalker x MC nfsw fluffy fic I am over 3k words into.

“Amund! No! What have you done?!”

Rafayel ran to catch his lovely bride as she fell, but too late. Much too late. The wicked dagger jutted from her chest, just where he'd indicated a fatal blow could be struck when they had flirted and teased as he'd trained her so many months ago. Now the jest had turned to brutal reality.

“It was her request, Your Quintessence,” Amund insisted, sounding satisfied, perhaps even smug.

Rafayel felt sick as the blood seeped around the wound and stained her dress. The dagger was ironically preserving her life, stemming the flow, but he knew it couldn't be for long. She was dying, and he could do nothing to prevent it.

He pressed his forehead to her, tears coming in choking gasps, turning to pearls before they hit the sand. Her eyes fluttered open to look at him, barely clinging to consciousness.

“Why?” He sobbed, brokenly. “You told me not to give up. You told me there was still hope.”

“You were running out of time,” she whispered, fingers shaking as they lightly traced his cheek. “If I waited, it could be too late.”

It was true, and he knew it. His fire had grown dimmer and dimmer by the day. But he never thought…

“It was supposed to be me,” he cried, hugging her gently, feeling her warmth bleeding away. “I don't want it back. My heart belongs to you. Please, please, don't leave me.”

“I love you,” she whispered. Then the light of her eyes dimmed, her hand fell, and she was gone.

“No! No, don't go! Please, don't go!” But his screams fell on deaf ears.

Power surged from her body in a flash of light, before rushing into his own chest. He could feel a vitality he hadn't felt in millenia surging through his veins.

Winds whipped across the sands, and with a great rumble, waters sprung up in mighty fountains. Distantly, he could hear a roar of jubilation as his people realized what was happening.

The God of the Sea was whole. The oceans were returning to Philos. No more would the Lemurians watch helpless as humans plundered their treasures.

The waters soon swallowed Rafayel and his lifeless bride. She looked ethereal as she floated in the blue, red fanning out in a deep stain around her.

“What a liar.” He whispered, fingers caressing her cool cheek.

For the first time in well over 30,000 years, Rafayel was whole, his flame reborn.

He had never felt more empty, more cold.

There would be no next life to get it right. The heart that had brought her back to him time and again had been returned, just as the prophecy demanded. There would be no more waiting for her. No more looking into lovely eyes that saw him as a stranger. Not even death would be a respite for him, for the seas would bring him mercilessly back, life after life, devoid of the only one who made it worth living.

In one swift move, the God of the Sea had regained his heart…and lost it forever.

***

“Rafayel!”

He woke with a gasp, eyes burning, cheeks stained. He looked around wildly, trying to understand what was happening. His skin felt clammy and sticky, his chest heaving for air.

“Rafayel! I’m here. You're safe.”

That gentle voice, that beloved voice, and her soft hand against his cheek, stroking over the tear tracks. He pulled her forcefully into his arms, burying his head in her neck and inhaling deeply. Warm. Whole. Alive.

“I’m here, love,” she cooed, running her fingers soothingly through his hair. “I’m here. You’re safe. It was just a bad dream.”

He placed his hand against her chest, and but for a gasp of surprise, she didn't protest, cradling his hand against her. He felt the thrumming of his heart in her chest. He released a shaky breath.

Surely, she was right. Surely, it was just a dream.

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel #l&ds rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel x mc #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnd rafayel #angst #hurt/no comfort #A little comfort

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loviatarsluv-old · 10 months ago

Note

If you’re still taking writing prompts, may I request Halsin comforting the reader who gets bad anxiety about going to sleep?

ahhh this is so sweet and definitely something I think about constantly, imagine curling up in Halsin’s lap and him holding you and comforting you im going to scream!!!!!!!!

ty for this prompt, I needed it 😭

Halsin x gn!reader/tav 🩷

rating: sfw (very soft and fluffy and sweet)

Sleep has never come very easily to you. And the few times it did, it was restless - filled from start to finish with nightmares that always inevitably woke you up in the middle of the night, clutching onto your bedroll, chest heaving and eyes streaked with tears.

You’d been able to hide it from the others for the most part, but Halsin noticed a few nights ago while on night watch, when you lurched out of your bedroll, silently sobbing. He watched you as you tried to calm yourself, burying your head in your hands and curling your knees to your chest. He wanted so badly to comfort you then, but he didn’t wish to make you uncomfortable in his efforts. So he silently watched you until you finally settled back into your bedroll, and your eyes closed once again for the night.

The next night, you noticed he’d been lingering close to you all evening, periodically asking you if you needed any help with anything, even offering you a cup of the tea that he’d brewed, bringing it to you with a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

He towers over you as you sit on a log next to the campfire, watching the flames lick at the night air and the smoke swirl and try to find shapes in it. You almost gawk at his size and stature, despite having already spent a considerable amount of time with him - you’d think you’d be used to it by now.

You smiled and took the cup gratefully, your fingers brushing against his as you took it from him.

“Thank you.”

His smile softens, and he brings a hand up to brush a lock of hair behind your ear.

“No need. It should help you sleep, we must take all the rest we can before morning.” He says, resting his hand on your cheek - his warm palms feel like a beam of sunlight.

Your face falls.

“Y-yeah. Right.” You reply, your voice meek and small as your eyes fall to the cup in your hands, staring at your reflection in the tea.

Halsin notices your demeanor shift, his brows softening as he kneels in front of you.

He holds your chin between his thumb and his index finger, guiding your face up so your eyes meet.

“What is troubling you? Is there anything I can do to help you?” He asks, his expression outwardly calm but his light eyes flicker with concern.

Your body tenses, and you feel your eyes start to sting with tears that you can’t shed. You shake your head, and force another weak smile.

“I’m okay, really. Nothing dire or important. Thank you.”

You feel a tightness in your chest - you wanted so badly to talk to someone about this, you knew that you likely needed to, but for some reason the words just wouldn’t come out, the taste of them bitter on your tongue. It wasn’t out of fear of Halsin judging you, as you knew he was the last person in the realm that would judge you for such a thing or probably most things. He had a true heart of gold.

Part of you just wanted to preserve the image of you that he had in his mind - strong and fearless and unbreakable. It was unbecoming of a leader to be wrecked over something as simple as nightmares.

“It is important to me, if it is important enough for you to lose sleep over. But, if you are not ready to talk about it, I shall be here when you are ready.” He says simply, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes and savor his touch, still feeling his lips burning on your skin even after he pulls away.

He turns to walk away, and you grab his arm to stop him.

“Halsin?”

He turns, his scarred face glowing in the orange light of the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames. “Yes, my heart?”

“I’m so happy you joined us. Thank you.”

His eyes soften more than you’ve ever seen, almost resembling those of a puppy whose just been adopted.

“As am I.”

You give his arm a gentle squeeze before letting go, and watch him lumber back to his own tent, sitting just outside of it and fixing his gaze back on you. He watched you as if he were ready to leap in front of an arrow for you, as if he were ready to fight to the death for you. Your cheeks heat under his stare, and you look back down at your tea.

Just drink it. You need to sleep. He made it for you, just drink it.

You take a big sip, the warm liquid heating you as it goes down your throat and it tastes of chamomile and honey. You smile, as you remember Halsin telling you of his sweet tooth, and how you teased him about being a bear that loves honey.

The tea helps you ease your nerves just enough to finally let yourself feel tired enough to seek your bedroll and lay down, slowly drifting off to sleep.

You only sleep for a few hours, every second of it plagued by your usual nightmares - flashes of bloody battles and mind flayers and everyone you care for either hurt or dying. Just as an arrow hits you in your dream, you wake with a start, lurching out of your bedroll, gasping and clawing at your blanket.

Your eyes burn with previously unshed tears, now falling in a full torrential downpour. You bring your knees to your chest and just sob, unable to control or care about your volume as every sob racks through your body like a tidal wave.

You don’t notice Halsin approaching you before you feel his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his lap, cradling you and shushing you until your breathing calms.

“S-sorry…” you sob into his chest, gripping the fabric of his nightclothes for dear life.

He shakes his head, then rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Do not apologize. You are not made of steel. You are made of flesh and blood, and a beating heart. You are made to feel.”

You sigh, your shoulders still shaking and your hands and voice trembling as you speak. “I’m just so exhausted… and I can’t even find respite in sleeping.”

He tightens his arms around you, tilting his head so that his cheek presses to your scalp. “Would it help to have someone to keep you company? I can stay here beside you, if you desire.”

You nod, your breathing finally slows and your body starts to settle. “Please.”

He scoots aside into your bedroll with you as you cling to him, refusing to let him go and let go of the bliss that is being enveloped in his embrace. He grabs your blanket, pulling it so that it covers you, tucking it in between the two of you so it’ll stay.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, his large hands gently rubbing your arm and leg.

You nod, and snuggle into his chest.

“Could you talk to me? Like… tell me a story, or something,”

You don’t see it but you can feel the smile radiating off of him as he lets out a contented breath, then places a kiss to the top of your head.

“Of course.”

He begins to tell you of his time with Thaniel all those centuries ago, of their adventures in the forest and describing the serenity of being wrapped in nature’s embrace. He tells you of the times he was in wild shape and got mistaken by other bears as a true bear, and how he acquired the large scar on his face. You listen to the steady beat of his heart and the gentle rumbling in his chest as he speaks and it’s infinitely more effective than even a lullaby is to lull a baby to sleep.

Your eyes slowly close and you drift back to sleep, this time, rather than horrific nightmares, you dream of a calm and peaceful clearing, the wet grass tickling your bare feet as you walk - and you see him, waiting near the water, hand outstretched and beckoning you. You smile in your sleep.

He looks down at you, watching you as you slumber, his heart pounding as he runs his thumb along your cheek. He would cherish this moment of seeing you in pure bliss, and cherish the thought of him having given it to you. He’d give you the moon and the stars if he could, he thinks.

god I am unwell I love him so much halsin snuggles would fix me I think

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tainted-liquor · 7 months ago

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˖ ࣪Everything I Needed To Be ʚɞ

Pairing: 1610Miles x BlackFem!Reader

TWs: Miles is basically going thru ghost grief, right person wrong timing, mentions of death, Unhealthy (NOT toxic,) relationship habits, emotional immaturity.

Genre: ANGST!!! (There’s a fluffier version coming soon I swear)

。 ✧ ⁺ 。。 ✧ ⁺ 。。 ✧ ⁺ 。。 ✧ ⁺ 。

Four days had passed since you had last spoken to Miles, your boyfriend. You’re not even sure if boyfriend is the right term anymore. The boy you had once grown to love for his nerdy and alluring demeanor suddenly became inimical and detached. There was no longer a look of ever-lasting love behind his warm and auburn eyes, but a gaze engulfed by rage The arms that once lazed around your shoulders found themselves drilled by his sides. It didn’t take a Harvard degree for you to put two and two together, and it tore you apart limb by limb.

Miles had stopped loving you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You sat with your head pressed against your painfully cold window pane, clutching your oversized teddy bear as you counted the raindrops speckled across the glass. Your eyes were wet with tears, your beautiful face ruined with trails of salt and emotion. It had been a whole three days since you neglected to fulfill your daily needs, such as eating and sleeping. The wind banged its fists against your window, whistling tunes of torment as you sniffled through the silence.

You tore your gaze off of the outside for a moment, staring off into space as the candlelight from your nightstand flickered across your features. Its warm embers painted your skin, taunting you with its deep flames that once reminded you of passion and romance. You sighed, exhalation shaky as you turned to your phone. No texts. No calls. Nothing.

But when you went to run your hand across your face, that familiar ding rang through your ears as you turned to face your phone screen. Your eyes practically squeezed your phone, flipping it over to read the little message Miles had sent you.

“Hey.”

“Can you open the door”

Read 8:27 PM

You grunted, shuffling to your feet and hoisting yourself off of your plush pink bedsheets. You pried yourself off of your fluffy teddy bear, sighing softly as your expression immediately sank further than it had before. There were only two things about to happen.

He was about to break up with you or tell you that he was sorry.

And deep down, you prayed that he would break things off. Maybe he wouldn’t be as cruel to keep dragging your heart along the abrasive pavement and bury you away with the love he once had for you. The last two months have been nothing but agony, and you prayed whatever divine god or goddess ruled would mark the end of your teenage romance.

You scuffled down the carpeted stairs of your apartment, wincing at every creek and crack that resulted from your intentionally delicate footsteps. Miles knew you were sensitive, he knew you would crumble like bad pottery under the slightest change in tone. So why had you become the object of his disdain? You bit back the tears that lined themselves along your eyes, carefully pulling back your front door to reveal your boyfriend. Your face found itself numb, paralyzed with your desolate frown. There were bags under your eyes that could carry 175 dollars worth of groceries; to put it short, you looked like a beat dog.

“Hey…” you muttered, pushing back the door and allowing Miles full entry into your home. His face softened as soon as he got a clear view of your face, but quickly resumed its drained expression.

“Have you been crying?” He asked, completely ignoring your greeting as he got closer to your face, squinting directly at your eyes.

“Nah, nah I’m straight. My eyes water when I yawn.” You fixed your face at the speed of light, rubbing your eyes and stretching your arms up towards the heavens. You plopped down on your couch, bringing your knees to your chest as you rested your head on your shins. Miles shifted somewhat close to you, maintaining about an inch or so of space before sighing to himself.

“Did I do something? You haven’t texted me in like…a week,” He began, hunched over with his hands folded in between his knees. The room flooded with uncomfortable silence. It was suffocating; it felt like you were drowning on land, your limp and sea-sick body thrashing violently against the waves of reality.

No matter how nerdy, sweet, and charming he was.

Miles was just a boy.

“Are you…serious?” You asked, raising your head from your slouched posture to look at him with watery eyes. He sucked his teeth before sucking in an unnecessarily deep breath.

“Can you just tell me what I did? I don’t wanna do the whole—”

“So you can distance yourself from me. Not texting me in almost a month, STOP ACTING LIKE MY BOYFRIEND ENTIRELY, but me not texting you in four days is enough for you to show up at my door on bullshit? Yeah no, get the fuck out before you wake my mama up.” You spat, blinking away the tears as you stood up from the couch.

“Nah, nah nah nah nah nah, come here I’m not doing this tonight. You talking bout I’m on bullshit but you out here crying in the dark?” Miles groaned, quickly getting up to follow you to your back porch.

“So? How the hell would you feel if I started treating you like you treat me? I mean you’re here right now after four days, so obviously you wouldn’t feel good.” You snapped, attempting to close the back door on Miles. He held the door back with his one hand, holding your wrist carefully with the other. “Get the fuck off me, Miles.”

“Cuz you’re not being fair! You know I've been stressed out lately, and it’s been affecting my mood! I just—” Miles shouted, his eyebrows knitting together as he looked down at you from the dark veil of the moonlight.

“I don’t care how fucking stressed you are, stress doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit!” You yelled, throwing your arms up in defeat.

“Wow, so my stress doesn’t matter to you?” He spat, a face of disgust painting his features as he stood with his arms folded across his chest.

“That’s not even remotely close to what I said! I said stress doesn’t give you the right to mistreat me. Like if you don’t love me no more say that!” Your face was wet with tears as the pressure in your neck grew painful. Your voice was shaky and broken, but that didn’t matter since there was a bigger issue.

“You don’t even know what I’ve been going through! There’s shit that you just don't understand—“

“So help me understand, Miles! Explain it to me! You don’t even talk to me about your day! It’s impossible to understand when you’ve stopped communicating!”

It was like talking to a brick wall. There was nothing you could say that would help HIM understand how you felt.

“I don’t need to tell you everything!” He shouted, sighing as he slid a hand down his face. “God you’re so…you get on my nerves!”

“So when you treat me like shit, go from a literal ray of sunshine to whatever fucking…MONSTER YOU ARE NOW, I’M GETTING ON YOUR NERVES? God I wish I never met your sorry ass! How the fuck do you go from lovey-dovey to basically avoidant and quiet?” You yelled, now garnering the attention of your neighbors, who had turned on their porch light next to you. Your eyes widened as you covered your mouth, quickly shuffling back into the house with a deep exhale. Miles, much to your dismay, was still behind you and seething with rage.

“I was—!” He began, quickly quieting down and making a mindful note of his tone. “I was everything I needed to be. You don’t know what it’s like to be thrown away from everything you’ve known and—…and just THRUST into rejection! To finally be surrounded by people like you, and get told you don’t even belong! I’m sorry I haven’t held your hand when I DON'T EVEN FEEL LIKE I SHOULD BE ALIVE!” He whisper-yelled, eyebrows furrowing as his jaw tensed.

“What are you even talking about, Miles?! ‘People like you’” you recited in air quotes, “you mean BLACK PEOPLE? If things weren’t going great at Visions, you could’ve just—“ You began, extending your arms in front of you in defense.

“See? You don’t understand.“

He knew he was being cruel. He KNEW he wasn’t being fair, but he didn’t care. Sure, he may have stopped his dad from dying. SURE, he went on about how he gets to choose what his life looks like, but he was terrified of you dying for just loving him. He already broke his canon with Gwen, and shit came crumbling down when all he wanted to do was save his dad. But when he laid his head down at night, all that played behind his eyelids was your cold, and limp body lying in his arms.

He hadn’t even noticed that he began distancing himself from you until you brought it to his attention. Shit, he couldn’t even tell you how long it had been since you texted him.

“Miles.”

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

The two of you stood, motionless and silent. You were only about a foot or so from each other, but it felt like you were miles away. The warm but painful tears silently coursed down your face as you struggled to even recognize the boy in front of you.

“You disgust me. And I hope whatever or whoever you deal with next never has to see the borderline monster you’ve become.”

It was quiet, but it pierced his ears like a gunshot. Now it was Miles’ turn to fight back tears, and god damn did he fight. His head hung low as he fidgeted with the nylon fabric in his pockets, attempting to control his uneven and shaky breathing.

“Get out. I don’t want you anywhere near me. Please get out.” You begged, speed walking to the front door as you held it open. The glossy red oak glimmered slightly as the dim lamp illuminated its backside.

“Wait, c’mon please I’ll explain everything, just let me—“ Miles stammered, suddenly snapping back into his right mind as it all sunk in. You hated him.

“No. I’ll never understand, remember? Now please, get out.” You urged, gripping the front of his jacket and pulling him forward, then carefully ushering him out of your house. There wasn’t even any time for him to protest, the door had been closed from the second he was safe from its hinges. And there he was, standing in the cold rain and wind as the world around him continued to spin. There was no time for him in this world, just like how he made you feel.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #e1610 miles x blackfem!reader #e1610 miles

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suns-out-sleeps-in · 4 months ago

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so @mako-neexu and @konu-d were talking about CoMC's valentines in fgo the other day and just how intimate it is compared to other servants so here's some delulu fluffy thirsting between the most lovestruck man in all of Chaldea and his beloved accomplice. I want you both to know I was literally up at like 4 am writing this in the dark because i couldn't get the idea out of my head and couldn't sleep. The edguda mental illness never stops.

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11:45 p.m. 2/13

The Master of Chaldea yawned before snuggling into the shoulder of the man beside her. She felt a warm, callous hand softly rub her forearm before a featherlight kiss was placed on the crown of her head. The Avenger beside her may claim to be beyond Love and Hate, but he is a man who is weak to the whims of his Accomplice. A simple request of wanting cuddles from her Avenger and the poor, uxorious man caved embarrassingly easy. Blustering defiance fading at her adorable pout and a devasting critical hit when she padded the space next to her, he resigned to his fate and fell next to her on her bed. Swaddled in the warmth of his cloak laid on their laps, the two of them were indulging in reading short yet romantic excerpts, fitting for the season and at the absolute insistence of a certain playwright, further goaded by an incubus who shall remain anonymous.

Edmond would later deny such assistance was required, yet did not leave without a recommendation from Murasaki, whom he did not put up as much resistance as the others. A gentleman to his core since he did not turn his nose up at her, unlike the men in the room.

Ritsuka sighed, willing time to go faster so she could give her Avenger his gift. Why can't the date change already? Sure, there is nothing truly stopping her from gifting him the chocolate she painstakingly prepared for him, in all honesty, he probably already knows about it. He does nearly always reside in her shadow underfoot, plus he seems to have an uncanny ability to predict her thoughts. If she were to ask him about it, he would probably show her that infuriatingly handsome smirk that he knows makes her heart skip a beat and tell her, "It's my duty to know you greater than anyone else, my dear. For I am not only your co-conspirator, but your lover as well. Your heart and mind have been laid bare, thus I, by extension, must respond in kind."

She glanced at the clock on her desk. 11:49 p.m.

Suppressing a very obvious groan, she buried her face once more into his clothed chest, willing her flaming expression to fade. She had decided to focus her attention on something else to pass the time, but her gaze naturally fell back on him. He had abandoned his usual attire for more casual loungewear, well, casual to Him, was still somehow a nice-looking lace up white shirt and black trousers reminiscent of the time period he "lived" in. Osakabehime would undeniably accuse him of cosplaying as a Victorian vampire, which would earn a glare from both Vlad and Carmilla. But really, Ritsuka understood her completely. If anyone besides her saw him wear this attire, he would certainly draw unwanted attention to himself.

She shouldn't be surprised, though, he's the same way with his Summer wear, but he can't deny the happy little kitties adorning his pool float. Adorable, really.

She was so lost in thought that she almost missed Edmond lightly tapping her cheek to bring her back to reality.

'Master.'

She was lightly startled back to attention only to be met for a brief second by gold before feeling pressure against her lips, a momentary gasp allows the man to slip his tongue in and strengthen the kiss. Ritsuka briefly tenses at the abrupt change in atmosphere, one moment soft and domestic, the next steamy and charged before relaxing and letting him lead. Cushioning her head with one hand, he maneuvers the two them until she falls back onto the pillow and continues the absolutely searing kiss. She effortlessly fell into step with him, their kisses like dances only they know the beat of. One of her hands reaches for his deceptively soft white locks and lightly tugs him closer, a clear sign to any man for more, which he happily provided.

She can feel the bond flowing between them, magic and mana cascading and crashing into each other likes waves against rocks on a shore. If she wasn't so used to providing emergency mana to her Servants, it would feel like he was intentionally trying to steal her very soul away.

She finally pushes him away from the kiss to inhale precious oxygen, her Avenger loyally follows her lead, her hand falls away from his hair to instinctively cover her burning face. She can only imagine what her face must look like right now, practically vibrating with anticipation and can all but feel her own pupils shift into hearts, but that smug smile on his face gives her the impression that he would do it again in a heartbeat. The look in his eyes tells her there's nothing he'd rather do than take her breath away with another passionate kiss.

Damn him, seriously. Doesn't he know just how fragile her heart is when it comes to him? Bastard.

"Ritsuka."

"C-count?"

"Have you awakened from your daydream, yet?" Is he serious? He quite literally stole her very breath away and he's asking that? Ritsuka rolls her eyes before answering him.

"No, I'm still lost in the sauce." Wrong answer.

"Very well." Edmond chuckles lightly before leaning down to kiss her once more. She is, for once, faster than him and places her hand on his mouth to cover his lips while bracing her other hand against his shoulder.

"W-wait! I'm obviously kidding!" She feels his teasing grin spread against her palm and understands he is messing with her. Jerk.

He moves her palm to the side and places a chaste kiss against her pulse, closing his eyes and seeming to savor her excitement. "Too bad, you still seem quite dazed to me." The heated look in his eyes when he reopens them betrays his calm tone, oh how she could lose herself in his gaze, no matter if it's when his eyes are blood red or shining gold, the cross-shaped pupils that strike fear in others only serves to ease her worries and stress.

"And who's fault is that?! Seriously, what was up with that kiss? What prompted the make out session?" She is helpless to the smile and playfully exasperated tone that colors her voice when it comes to him.

"Is that not what lovers do to show their affection to one another?" His smirk is as sharp as his shadows as he leans down to plant teasing kisses on her neck, causing her to moan and expose more of her neck to his ministrations. Her arms naturally wrap around him, encouraging him to let his weight fall on her and pin her further to the mattress. She knows she will end up with hickeys, as Avenger tends to have some bite to his kisses, but she can't complain when he usually shows no remorse towards his love.

"A little warning wo-" Ritsuka briefly glances off to the side and notices her clock with bright red numbers, 11:59 p.m. "Aah! Hold that thought!" She hates to pause such a nice moment of passion but time waits for no one. She pushes her Avenger back onto his haunches, surprising the man enough to let out a startled grunt of confusion and allow her to scramble towards her nightstand. He can't help how his gaze falls on her legs and behind, turning his gaze away lest he become too excited by his subtle bias.

Subtle, yeah, right. He unconsciously chastises himself for how remarkably unsubtle he is if people knew what to look for.

Ritsuka finally pulls out the box she had set aside and gazed at the clock, letting out a happy squeak at the time showing 12:00 a.m. 2/14.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" She held the dark green package wrapped in white and gold ribbon to her dear accomplice with such a look on her face that reminded Edmond briefly that, despite everything, Ritsuka is still a young woman, full of love, full of life. A young woman who gazes at him like he hangs the sun, moon, and the stars, when he thinks it's the opposite. Chasing the star that lights his path of hell and shadows, clinging to her light with an iron grip and resolve. Willing to overturn the very cosmos in her name.

"What is this, Ritsuka?" The Count feels his very gaze, sharp edges of revenge ingrained into his heart, soften at the bashful blush adorning her face in pinks and reds.

"It's chocolate, though maybe you know it better as cacao. It's tradition to give the person you like sweets on the 14th of February, and I wanted to make sure I gave you yours first." He takes the box from her hands and admires the packaging for a moment, touched that she chose colors specific to him.

"Did you prepare these yourself?" He opens the container with a small 'pop' and takes one of the dark chocolate pieces. "Beni and Tama Cat helped me get the taste right, but other than that, yeah. I know it's not super fancy but-" She is cut off with a kiss, longing and sweet unlike earlier. It surprises her again but this time ends quickly as Edmond speaks.

"Don't discourage your efforts, my dear Accomplice. This is more than I deserve, so please take pride in yourself." Ritsuka is right in that she is no master patisserie, but even one as corrupted as him can taste the love and effort hidden in the sugar and sweetness of cocoa. It nearly overwhelms the Avenger with feelings he long thought buried, but that she can effortlessly pull out from the depths of heart. The soft, loving look on his face invokes the man he used to be, one who had yet to experience that hell of 14 years. The young sailor who hadn't known betrayal and faced the world with brimming promise. Did Mercedes and Haydee feel the same as her? Mercedes, the one who loved him as Edmond. Haydee, the one who loved him as The Count of Monte Cristo. She thinks, no, knows she will love him as Her Avenger. For as long as time allows them to be together.

"Alright, you win, Count." Her head falls back onto his shoulder with a light and airy chuckle of resignation as she fights back a yawn. He counters with a chuckle of his own as he brings his hand up to pet her hair and nuzzle closer.

"It's late. You should rest, for tom-, er, today brings chaos and revelry that must be met with full faculties." She huffs at his stutter before letting her eyes close and burying herself even closer to him. Though his dark flames burn and poison everything around him, he gladly wields them to keep her warm and safe.

"mmh...Stay with me?" Ritsuka feels the last of her consciousness slip into a dream as a loving kiss is placed on her temple, unaware of the glimmer of cyan invading his gaze as he vows to guard her dreams for another night.

"...Of course, my star."

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I completely forgot I wrote this in a half manic, sleep-deprived state like a month ago lmao

woe, fluffy edguda be upon ye!

actually for extra mental illness I'll tag @zeravmeta since I know they are an edguda shipper too so we can all be insane together! 😁

#fate grand order #fgo #gudako #edmond dantes #fgo edmond dantes #fujimaru ritsuka #edguda #ritsuka fujimaru

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