#he’s just a sad and lonely little boy who grew up to be a sad and lonely man and the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy

[strixhaven]

pacing back and forth once again thinking about iziador

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 | 𝐒𝐌𝐆 ♡

Day Six - Cock warming

【Synopsis】 : Mingi finds his little mouse trying to do her exams. Too bad he needs her right now.

『Word count』 : 2.69k

-> Genre:  Collage au. Smut. 

Pairing: FratBoy!Mingi x Choi!Reader

[Warnings] : Teasing. Swearing. Fingering. Dirty talk. Pet names. Mentions of Seonghwa (yes, that's a warning)

Note: This is a little part two of Prove It, hehe. Keep a look for more content with these three ♡♡

Network: @cromernet @illusionnet @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @k-vanity

Also, thank you to those who asked for a part two for this story. ♡ Part three with Seonghwa and part four with both boys will also be posted soon, hehe ♡

Special tags : @fxlling13 @angelsaway @stolasisyourparent @voicesinmyhead-rc @hotteokhatyu @choisanboobenthusiast @asleepyhuman @therealcuppicake @vantediary @mingisprincesss @kelsxxyawn @kissofthespring @eunseosilver @mingisdimple @mingismoralloyalty

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Ever since the night Mingi and Seonghwa had successfully proved how skilled they were, days following have become only described as cat and mouse. Every chance they got, one of them had their hands on you. Whether it was Mingi holding your hips for too long while waiting in line at the food truck one night. Or Seonghwa, placing his hand innocently on your thigh under the table at a restaurant. No, ever since that night, it became one big game of desperation. Lonely nights spent fucking yourself at the mere thought of them while Mingi had to go to Seonghwa a couple of times when he couldn’t sleep, needing some sort of relief to make him breathe for a moment. But nothing helped. They were both hooked on you. And you on them.

It was a normal afternoon, you were in your room finishing up on some homework before you had to inevitably had to continue packing. You weren't super sad to move out, but you had doubts, not knowing if living on your own without your brother was a good idea yet. But you were old enough and you always had wanted to live closer to campus. But it was still scary. You could hear the last of the loud men leave the apartment, heading off to classes or work, finally leaving you in peace for at least a few hours… “What you up to dollface?”

Scratch that last statement.

“Nothing much. I’m just writing up my exam sheets and then I’ll continue packing.” You shot Mingi a quick smile before turning back to your paper, you didn’t want to look at the extremely hot man. Not after he had just got his hair cut. You needed to focus on your work. But you hear him start to wander around your room, your eyes can't seem to move off the one sentence you have almost read over five times. You sighed, pushing against your desk so you could swivel your chair until you were completely facing the tall beefcake of a man. “Do you need something Min?”

“It’s kinda… hard to concentrate when you are walking around my room.” You stutter slightly, feeling your ears already start to heat up. his tongue wet his lips as his smile grew more. His eyes wandered down your figure, you were wearing an old hoodie from one of the boys and sleep shorts. The same sleep shorts you wore when he made you squirt.

“Hmm, no. I’m good. Don’t mind me. You continue working…” He gave you a soft smile. asshole…

“I’m sorry doll, here let me fix that.” He cut the space between you so face you could barely notice what was happening until it happened. He lifted you off your chair before sitting down and placing you on his lip. His long legs manoeuvred the chair until he was sitting back in front of the desk, suddenly making you very confused. “There you go. Now go on with your work. While I relax.”

“Mingi…I can't just keep working while sitting on your lap.” You said flustered.

“Sure you can. And if you write over 100 words I’ll reward you.” He whispered that last part in your ear before lightly leaving kisses down your neck. Your head automatically tilted to the side, letting him have more access to your skin. “Come on baby. I don’t hear you typing.”

“Fuck you.” You growled, slightly annoyed.

“Don’t tempt me.” He chuckled making you freeze. Your hands flew to the keyboard trying their best to make up some words. But your brain had gone south for the winter and you had no more brain cells left to function.

“M-mingi…” You whispered, his lips successfully distracting you. He pulled away.

“Okay, baby. I want you to write some words outs. And every time you write at least ten words, I’ll continue. Deal?” He knew he had you trapped when he suggested this sinful game. And you were of course going to agree. So you read the next question out of your sheet, seeing it was a super easy question, your brain, with a lot of inner self yelling, you managed to write a proper sentence and over ten words like Mingi had wanted. His chuckle made you shiver as you felt his hand begin to wander down your body until it stopped right above your closed legs. “Good girl, now you get a reward. Take off these cute shots baby.”

He picked up the hem of your shorts and panties, pulling them taught before letting it go, making the band snap against your soft skin. This caused you to let out a shaky whimper, wiggling your hips until the fabric slipped off. You didn’t even bother trying to stand, using Mingi’s body as a support, you finally threw your panties and shorts somewhere in the messy room, leaving your bottom half completely exposed for him. “What is my reward…”

You had asked with mostly curiosity but there was a lingering of blunt lust, not really even caring for the kind of reward. No, all you wanted was for him to touch you. In any way, he seemed fit. “Oh, baby. Do you remember the last time we were in this position…” His deep grunt tickled your ear as he threw your left leg over the armchair, opening yourself for him. “Do you remember how thrilling it was for me to touch you, while Hwa ate you out like a starved bitch.”

You couldn’t help but moan, hands gripping tight onto the desk in front of you. His fingers danced along your plump thighs, slowly creeping their way towards your soaked core. He had to chuckle at every shaky breath you took and shiver that spilled down your spine. “You were such a good girl. Listening so well. Can you do that for me again? Hmm?” His fingers pressed firmly on your clit, feeling just out sensitive you’ve become.

“Yes please Mingi. Anything. I want to be good for you.” In other situations, you would have felt embarrassed to say such words, but Mingi knew how to draw this side out of you. A side that lives and breathes to please him. Mingi rubbed your clit slowly in a circle, smearing all your slick around, the sounds were filthy, but you no longer cared. His fingers slowly snaked down until one dipped inside your belief, making you gasp in anticipation.

“Stand up and lean over your desk, dollface.” You quickly did as you were told, standing on your jelly legs but not before you threw your hoodie off, only leaving you in a lace bra. “Fuck…” Mingi licks his lip as he watched you obey him. Your ass wiggled perfectly in his view, fuck what he would give just to stare at you all day. He would die happy. But no, for now, he needed the chase. The tease. He wanted to see how far you could go. Before he breaks you. You could hear the sound of a zipper, followed by the shuffling of clothes. Your heart started to ring loudly in your ears as you waited nervously for what might happen. “You Ready, love?”

The nickname caught you off guard, making your heart do laps. Love. A name you most certainly need to hear him say again. “Yes, Mingi…”

His large hands gripped your hips slowly pulling you back. He was standing behind you, the tip of his cock only just brushing against your wet folds. You bit your lip hard, trying to stop the pathetic noises that were trying to escape. Just as you feel him inch inside, you couldn’t help but let out a yelp before rolling your eyes back, “Fuck you’re big.” you had no idea why you thought he wasn’t but he was definitely bigger than any guy you had been with prior.

“And you fucking tight princess. I can barely fit.” His grunts were music to your ears and it was only when he completely bottomed out, you both let out relieving sighs. “Come on Doll, sit down.”

He guided you to the seat once more, taking a seat with you now snuggly on top of him. His cock sunk deeper at the angle, almost knocking the air out of your lungs. “Now…let’s continue.” He gestured towards the computer in front of you.

“W-what.” Your brain was so fuzzy from being so filled, you had completely forgotten about the work in front of you. Looking over your shoulder you spotted Mingi’s dark eyes. He was going serious. “B-but I thoug—You thought what? What, you answered one question and that would mean I fuck the life outta you. Hmm?” He cut you off with a dominant tone, causing you to clench around him.

“Answer a few more questions and we can see where it’ll lead.” He was stern, causing your whole body to shudder. You’ve never heard him speak like this, especially towards you. But you let out a sigh, shifting a little bit only to get…Comfortable, before looking back at your work. The first five minutes that passed were hell, every nerve on fire while every bump, shift, and tug made you very aware that Mingi’s cock was still very much inside you. But after another ten, it started to become bearable, you were able to focus more on the questions in front of you. Even asking Mingi for some assistance if needed. You both became content funny enough.

He hadn't felt this relaxed ever in his life while you were getting work done you were merely dreading prior. And by the end of the hour, Mingi was soundly napping on the chair while you were finishing up with your exam sheet. A sense of pride filled you as you typed out the last answer. You almost fell back to wake up Mingi from his peaceful slumber but even though he promised, you decided to give this moment of peace to shut your own eyes, letting sleep take a hold of you.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[deadboyswalking]

Right after Zoro and Sanji get engaged, only hours from the proposal, they have an interesting late-night conversation.

"Gonna have to be a long engagement, Curly."

"And why's that?" Sanji asks sleepily from his comfortable position lying on Zoro's chest, "Having second thoughts already?"

"No!" Zoro replies, a bit too sharply before softening, "It'll just be a while until we can get back to the East Blue."

Sanji is silent for a long moment.

"Do you still have... family there?" he asks.

"No, but you do," Zoro says quietly, "You'd be sad if your old man weren't there."

Oh. Sanji hasn't even had a chance to think about Zeff yet, but Zoro has. Though Sanji was the one to propose, Zoro has clearly been thinking about this for a while. Zoro knows how important Zeff is to Sanji, how much Sanji loves The Baratie and the chefs there, and he's already planning for them to go back home for their wedding.

It's so different from Whole Cake Island, an unfamiliar and extravagant place where Sanji had been surrounded by detested blood relations, enemies, and strangers while he awaited political marriage to a sweet girl he barely knew. But Zoro knows Sanji and knows what he really wants, even if Sanji would never make a fuss and bring it up himself.

Sanji has never felt this loved.

"Yeah, the geezer would probably kill me if I got married and didn't invite him," Sanji finally says, his voice thick with emotion, "And The Baratie is the only place I'd trust to make my wedding feast."

"We could invite my sensei," Zoro adds, "And Johnny and Yosaku, if those two idiots haven't gotten themselves killed. I think they settled down in Nami's village."

"What about Mihawk?" Sanji asks.

"If I haven't defeated him yet, sure," Zoro grumbles, "He likes fancy restaurants and he'd probably get along with my sensei. Perona too since she'd haunt me forever if I left her out. What about Ivankov?"

Sanji grimaces, mostly for show.

"I'll invite Iva, but I don't think he'll show up. He's way too busy with his kingdom and the Revolutionary Army to go all the way to the East Blue just for our wedding."

Zoro hums in thought.

"I think you're wrong about that. Who else?"

Needless to say, by the time they finally fall asleep their tentative guest list has over 500 names on it. Even if Zoro and Sanji aren't quite as sociable as their captain (who they'll definitely have to restrain from inviting everyone he's ever met to their wedding), all of the Straw Hat Pirates have made many friends on their journey and will make more by the time they get back to the East Blue.

Sanji's last thought before drifting off in the arms of the man he loves is wondering how much advance notice he should give Zeff before his beloved restaurant is swarmed by all of the friends that the lonely little boy he saved grew up to have.

[milaisreading]

hi hi hi how are you? i hope you're warm this winter season <3

i saw you were accepting yandere blue lock requests and i wanted to request one🥺:

yandere ness with his sweet/bold gf and kaiser turns yandere for her later on

🌱🩷: SURE! I hope u like what I wrote and thank u for the request!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. It's a yandere fic, so please don't read if u don't like those themes. Requests for Yandere Blue Lock are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

"Huh? Who is that?" The 9-year-old (Y/n) asked done of her classmates as they were leaving the school grounds. The two girls next to her turned to look in the direction (Y/n) was looking at, only to find a magenta-eyed boy playing alone in the snow, making some weird circles in the ground.

"That? That's Alexis Ness, he is in the same year as we are. Just a different class. Why do you ask?" A brown-haired girl asked.

"He seems... lonely. Should we go and play with him? It is a sad thing to play alone in the snow."

"What?! No way. (Y/n), he is a weird guy. Everyone stays away from him." A blonde girl said back, surprising the girl.

"Weird? He seems normal." (Y/n) said back as the brunette friend from before shook her head.

"You are way too naive, (Y/n). Trust me when I say he is weird."

"I heard he thinks he is a wizard and looks at some weird curse books. He even asked one of our teachers if our library has spell books." The blonde girl said as (Y/n) tuned them out for a bit.

'Spell books? He likes magic, too?' The girl thought in excitement as she observed the boy more. Suddenly, Ness looked up at her, his eyes widening in surprise. Smiling at his look, (Y/n) raised her hand, waving at him.

"Hii!! You have pretty eyes!" She yelled loudly, surprising not only her two friends, but also Ness. The boy blushed a visible red shade and said something, but nobody understood him since he was way too quiet with his reply.

"What are you doing?" The blonde girl scolded her silently, pulling her on one of her arms.

"He is giving me the creeps. Come on." The brunette girl added in, pushing (Y/n) away while the other dragged her by the arm.

"Hey! Don't be like that, he looks nice. And his eyes are pretty."

Ness watched the three girls leave, his eyes fixated on the (h/c)-colored girl as she repeated the same comment about his eyes. The boy's cheeks turning even redder as she repeated those words.

"My eyes... pretty?" The boy mumbled to himself, his heart hammering against his ribcage. A sense of disappointment hit him as the girl disappeared from his sight.

"As always..." The boy said, going back to playing in the snow. His thoughts were haunted for the rest of the day by the girl.

A week had passed since that incident, and Ness tried to forget about the whole incident. After all, nobody stays with him for too long. Why would that girl have-

"Hi! You are Ness Alexis, right?!" The boy jumped a little, looking up from the snowy ground and at the girl that was talking to him. The boy blushed a little, not used to this kind of attention from anyone, especially from a girl.

'It's her again?!' Ness gulped and slowly nodded his head.

"Y-yeah, that's me. How do you know me?" The boy asked cautiously as (Y/n) crouched down, looking at the small circles Ness drew into the snow.

"My friends remembered your name!" (Y/n) said, smiling at Ness. The boy's face grew even redder, slowly nodding his head.

"Why... why are you talking with me? Everyone finds me weird, you know?" Ness spoke up again which caused the girl to raise an eyebrow.

"Weird? I don't see it. You seem normal to me. What are those circles about?"The girl wondered, pointing at the snow. The boy stayed silent, face red as he mumbled something eventually.

"Huh? What did you say?" (Y/n) blinked, looking up at him in confusion.

"It's... Uhh to summon things." Ness repeated as her eyes widened in surprise.

"Huh? How does that work?"

"Are... are you really interested to hear that?" The boy gulped nervously.

"Yep! Show!" (Y/n) cheered as Ness slowly nodded his head.

And that's how their friendship started. Ness didn't know what exactly he did to make her interested in being his friend, but he wasn't going to complain. He found her curiosity cute, flattering even. Finally someone tried to understand him, unlike his siblings, parents, and kids in school. And although her friends tried to talk (Y/n) put of hanging out with him, she rejected the idea, even stood up for him.

Moments prior....

The classes had ended for the day and Ness went to look for (Y/n) in her classroom, she was always the last one to leave. The boy was in a quite good mood and couldn't wait to show her a new spell book he found.

"I am serious, (Y/n), that guy is weird." Ness stopped as he heard a feminine voice coming out of the girl's classroom. He knew that voice, it was the blonde friend. (Y/n) mentioned the girl's and the other ones name, but he never bothered to remember them. Partially because he felt slightly uncomfortable when her attention wasn't on him.

"He isn't. Please, give him a chance. Ness is really nice." The boy felt his cheeks heat up as he listened more.

'She thinks I am nice...'

"You say that now, but watch him pull something weird soon. Please, we worry about you. Why do you like playing with him?" The brunette friend said.

'What does she mean by that?' Ness was offended now.

"I like him, and he is fun to talk to. You guys don't have to be friends with him, I won't force you. But I won't stop hanging out with him."

Ness felt his cheeks flush once again. Nobody ever did that for him. Nobody ever opted to hang out with him after confronted by others.

"(Y/n)...." Ness mumbled as he felt a strange warm feeling fill up his chest.

Present time...

"Ness! Ness!" The boy jumped a little, startled by (Y/n)'s.

"Y-yes?" The boy wondered, surprised how close she was now.

"Are you alright? I was calling your name for a good minute." She asked in worry, which made the boy all giddy inside.

'She is worried about me!' Ness thought, nodding his head.

"Yeah. I was just thinking about a lesson."

"Oh, ok!" She smiled in relief.

"You wanted to show me something. What was it?"

"Yeah, I found a new spell that I wanted to show you!!"

A few weeks later...

Ness was used to the feeling of sadness, fear and loneliness, but rage? Rage was an emotion he never felt... until he saw (Y/n), his one and only friend get punched in the face. What was worse is that she got punched because of him. A group of boys had started insulting Ness and (Y/n), being as protective of her friends as she was, started arguing with them to stop. The verbal arguments slowly got more intense and in the end (Y/n) got punched. Ness was glued to his spot, eyes wide as his breathing grew heavier. The shock slowly turning into something he never felt before. He felt like destroying something, or rather someone.

"You got quite a big mouth for someone who hangs out with that weirdo over there."

"Don't say that...." (Y/n) glared back while holding her bruised cheek.

"What? You are a loser and he is a weirdo, maybe you two should hang out-"

"Don't say that about him!" (Y/n) yelled back now, punching the boy back. That caused him to fall down.

"He isn't a weirdo, you dumbass!!"

Ness watched in terror as the two started fighting, while the other 2 boys went to get a teacher.

Later that day...

Ness and (Y/n) sat in silence in the nurses office as the woman went to look for some bandages. The boy looked at her bruised face in guilt and anger. How could he not do something? How dare that guy hit her? Were some of the thoughts Ness had in his head. The boy clenched his fists and held back a few tears as he spoke up.

"Why did you do that? Why did you get hurt for me? I am used to those words, you shouldn't have jumped in-"

"You shouldn't be used to that, Ness!" (Y/n) yelled back, glaring at Ness. But, she wasn't mad, she was sad that he was used to it.

"I... I just don't like seeing you like this. You don't deserve it. And I would do this again for you, Ness."

"Ah..." The boy gasped a little as he stared at her with wide eyes. Something... Something definitely shifted in Ness that day.

Years had passed since then and both (Y/n) and Ness grew a lot closer since their elementary school days. During those years, Ness had developed a love for football, and while (Y/n) didn't understand much of it, she supported him in his passion. And while she was developed her own interests in art and fashion,Ness would be the first one to tell her to show her mentors the recent idea she got. Ness dubbed himself her #1 cheerleader, after all.

One thing that came to a surprise to (Y/n) was Ness confessing to and asking her out after he got scouted for Bastard München. The boy had worked up a lot of courage that day, and was over the moon that she said yes to him. He worked really hard on not only building up his courage, but also om getting rid of potential love interests of (Y/n). That part wasn't really that hard, now that he thought about it, a few intimidating words with his signature smile were enough to scare people off.

Ness already had planned out their future. (Y/n) will move in with him as soon as he got an apartment, then he will ask her to marry him, and they will live a happily ever after. But... Ness failed to see one person coming into their lives. His name would be Michael Kaiser... Bastard München's star striker.

It wasn't until his and Kaiser's first official game with the team that they met, and when they did... Ness was less than happy.

"Goo, Alexis!!! What a great assist!!" The magenta-eyed boy smiled as he heard (Y/n)'s loud voice and he turned to wave at her.

"Nothing but the best for you, (Y/n)!"

Kaiser, who was a few meters away, raised an eyebrow at the boy's words and the kiss he sent her.

"Hm? Who is that, Ness?"

"Huh? That's my girlfriend, (Y/n). She is so sweet and her smile is as beautiful as the sun." Ness sighed dreamily as he waved at her again. Kaiser pretended to puke and he grabbed the back of Ness' shirt.

"Focus on the game, idiot."

"Yes Kaiser, but don't insult me like that."

While most people didn't pay attention to the exchange, (Y/n) did. Her eyes narrowed at the blonde.

After the game had ended, most of the players went to change and take a shower, Ness, Kaiser, and their coach stayed behind for a while, which (Y/n) used as an opportunity to sneak up on Ness.

"Alexis, you did such a great job! I loved every second of it!" The girl cheered as she hugged the boy from behind. Ness blushed madly and turned so that he could hug her instead.

"You think? I was a little nervous in the beginning." Ness chuckled as (Y/n) nodded her head, kissed him on the cheek a few times.

"I couldn't be prouder of you." She smiled, causing the boy to stop and look at her for a moment.

"Really?" He asked with a red face.

"Ye-"

"Can you two stop that? You look so dumb." Kaiser's voice interrupted the two from talking further.

"Uh, Kaiser-"

"And you look like the rejected version of the Beast, what now?" (Y/n) said back, narrowing her eyes at Kaiser. The boy stopped for a moment and turned to look at (Y/n) as Ness tried to calm her down.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me." She rolled her eyes at his act.

"Now, mind your business." (Y/n) gave him a short fake smile and turned her attention back to Ness.

"Oh! I made you some dinner as well, since you told me you didn't eat anything. Come on." She said while pulling him towards the benches.

"A-ah... sure. Thank you, I completely forgot about that one." Ness blushed again. Kaiser was left both confused and shocked by what had happened. Not only did someone act like that towards him, but Ness didn't stop it either.

'(Y/n)... just what is wrong with you?' Kaiser thought as he looked at her for a while. He didn't even notice that he was staring until Ness glared at him.

'Weird... does she mean that much to him?'

For the next few weeks Kaiser spent some of his free time searching for (Y/n) on social media and observing her when she would visit Ness during practice. And every time she would visit, Kaiser would start an argument with her. It didn't even matter what the subject was, the weather, the clothes, the grass, they would argue. Ness would stop the arguments rather quickly, not wanting to get in trouble, but also because he wanted (Y/n)'s attention for himself. He deserved it! Kaiser won't steal those moments from him. He needed to stop whatever Kaiser had planned for (Y/n).

"Can you stop obsessing over my girlfriend, Kaiser. Get yourself another girl to fawn over." Ness asked, or rather demanded from the blonde as they changed in the locker room.

"What are you talking about, Ness? I hate her guts and you know it." Kaiset spit back as Ness sent him a side glare.

"Don't lie to me, Kaiser. I know that look, many guys had that same lovesick look around (Y/n), and all of them failed dating her."

Now, Kaiser wasn't usually the one to be confused, but this statement from Ness really took him by surprise.

"You must be stupid or blind, Ness. I do not like her, you can have her all for yourself. She just pisses me off." Kaiser repeated back with a much harsher tone. The magenta-eyed boy stayed quiet as he finished changing and then slammed the locker shut, surprising Kaiser.

"You better stay away, Kaiser. I won't let anyone get in the way of my happy future with her." Ness sent Kaiser a warning glare and left the room. The blonde stayed silent as he watched Ness leave, feeling even more frustrated now.

"That dumbass, can't he listen? I don't like that thing he calls his girlfriend!" Kaiser gritted his teeth.

"Her and that stupid know it all attitude. That stupid voice and those perfect eyes... and soft hair. The cute frown she makes when talking- What am I saying?!" Kaiser stopped himself as he realized where his thoughts were going. Slapping his cheeks a few times, Kaiser shook his head and continued charging into his clothes.

"I don't like that dumbass. She is just an annoying nobody. Ness can have her for all I care."

The blonde mumbled, trying to ignore the annoyance he felt from the last part.

That encounter happened last week, and Kaiser still to this day couldn't get Ness' words our of his head. Moreover, he couldn't get one particular line out of his memory.

'Can you stop obsessing over my girlfriend, Kaiser.' Repeated in his head whenever he caught himself looking at her pictures for too long, or whenever he found himself thinking of her. It was so weird, and it started affecting him to the point where he nearly injured his ankle. What was it about her that he even obsessed over? Maybe her personality? Or looks? It frustrated him to no end.

'I will end that dumbass once and for all-'

"Here." Kaiser's thoughts got interrupted by the same girl that was plaguing his mind for weeks.

"What is that?" The blonde wondered as he eyed the white container suspiciously.

"It's just some gel that is good to use for your muscles. Alexis said you nearly ruined your ankle the other day." (Y/n) replied back as she held the container in front of him.

"Why? Were you worried for me? I am touched." Kaiser smirked up at her, which made the girl a little angry, but she held herself back from yelling.

"No, I wasn't. I just don't want Alexis' team to lose because their star striker was too Charles's to look out for himself." She bit back.

'Because you idiot won't leave my head!' Kaiser wanted to say, he really wanted to put all the blame on her! But, he just couldn't bring himself to.

'Why?' The blonde wondered. (Y/n) stared at his silent figure, really curious as to what he was thinking, but she kept silent as well.

"Hmm... Alexis is back." She announced as the boy walked out of the locker room.

"Here, take it or leave it. I don't care. And, take care..."

Kaiser was shocked as he heard the soft tone in her voice and the gentle look that she sent him for a few seconds. The blonde looked back on the container that was put on the seat next to him. He hesitated for a moment, but then eventually grabbed it.

"Hmm..." Kaiser mumbled as he held the item and looked where (Y/n) was hugging and kissing with Ness. The blonde tightly grabbed onto it as his breath hitched up and eyes narrowed. What was this rage he was feeling? Kaiser bit his cheek as he kept on staring at the duo and wondered what it would feel like if (Y/n) kissed him like that.

'I wonder what her lips would feel like? Where they as soft as they looked?' Kaiser gulped, a red blush spreading across his face.

'And being so close to that scent of hers...'

Kaiser wanted to get lost more in his thoughts, but was interrupted as Ness opened his eyes and looked back at Kaiser, never breaking the kiss.

'Back off.' He could hear the boy say as he hugged (Y/n) tighter. And, in that moment something snapped in Kaiser. He didn't know what it was, nor did he care. The only thought running in his head was that he needed (Y/n). He needed her to be his. And his only.

[tiethenott]

NOTT WANTED

Theodore Nott x ???reader

Theodore was six when he first saw you.Days after his dear mother's death,he found himself wondering the Nott manor,his juvenile self looking at the dark walls decorated in portraits of his father and himself,his mother erased from all.He walked along the hall,searching for his mother's portrait but it was empty,all what was left was the dark background.A scowl look appears on Theo's youthful face at the realization of his mother's erasal from the pictures.His anger faded into sadness as his colourful eyes bled hot tears that travelled down his face and fell onto his oversized sweater.He sat in the middle of the hall,crying his little heart out,his sobs echoing off the walls. That's when his tear-gazed eyes saw you,peeking out from the end of the hall,your long,dark hair falling as your green eyes stare back at him.Most of the children his age would scream and run away,wailing for their mother,but he did not have that pleasure.He felt a peculiar sense of comfort emanating from your dark aura as he tilted his head,watching your figure draw in closer to the vulnerable boy.You looked his age,but you didnt look..real?you were thin,had sharp yet soft features like him and he found recognition in you.But the odd thing his child brain noticed was that you didnt look real,he couldn't describe it.You certainly weren't a ghost as you looked nothing like what the ancient books of mystical creatures described ghosts as,you weren't see through but you were paler. "Why are you crying?" you tilt your head as you stood Infront of him.Your voice was sweet yet monotone.He had millions of questions,what was your name?who were your parents?where are there?did they have a meeting with his father who was cooped up in his study?Why are you here?Who were you? But no words came out of his mouth as he sobbed,a pityful look flooded your face as you kneeled down and wiped his tears.He flinched at your ice cold touch,too cold to be normal. "Who..who are you?" he mumbled through broken sobs as sit down from your former position "Im..your friend" a smile appears on your face. His words were cut off by his father's angry stomps down the stairs towards the hall."Boy,what are you doing?" he grabs theodore's arm and drags him towards his room,Theo looks back to not see anything besides an empty hall "Why are you crying and who the hell were you talking to?" his father scolds "Stop your nonsense Theodore." were his last words before he locks him in his room He sits on his bed,his head down,his young pre mature mind confused beyond limits,trying to rack his brain around what he saw "Teddy?" he hears from the same kiddish voice causing him to snap his head around his room to his closet opening and your figure emerging slowly You slowly approch him,hesitantly wrapping your arms around him,but he barely felt your touch,only coldness he grew to find comfort in "W..whats your name?" he says pulling away "Y/N."

Theodore continued to see you over the years,showing up whenever he was lonely,crying or just randomly.He concidered you his friend as you were always there with him.However,when he tried to introduce you to Mattheo and Draco,they shared confused glances before telling theodore they didnt see anything.You were right next to him. The last time he saw you was the day before his tenth birthday,he was sneaking down the stairs for a glass of water,navigating the dark house. "Hi teddy!" you startle him at the end of the staircase "Merlin Y/N dont do that!" he jumps "Oh..I'm sorry" you tilt your head as you continue to walk next to him in silence as he drank his water "So..what are we doing for your birthday tommorow?youre turning double digits!" you ask walking back up the staircase Thats when it clicks,he didnt know anything about you besides your name whereas you basically knew everything about him! "Y/N,when is your birthday?" he asks curiously as your warm smile you always have around him falters "Thats..not important" you say standing infront of him,ascending the stairs backwards "I just want to know,I barely know anything about you" he innocently states "You dont need to know anything about me,all that matters is that I'm your bestfriend." "But..if we are bestfriends,shouldn't I know atleast something about you?Besides Mattheo's my bestfriend!" he states watching your lack of emotion face contort into anger and jealousy as your eyes darken,that was the first time he felt scared around you. Suddenly,you push him back,causing him to tumble down the stairs.He woke up in his bed perfectly fine with not an ounce of discomfort or pain. Sitting up,dazed and confused he spots a gift wrapped in black and white paper sitting in his open doorway.Standing up,he approches the present and crouches down,cautiously opening it to reveal a dead black cat which magically came to life and crawled into his lap when he fell back in shock and horror.

Theodore left for Hogwarts a year later,thinking he left you and the horrors of his childhood behind in the dark jail he called his house. The next time he was you was when he was 15 and in the Slytherin Common Room,trying weed for the first time with Blaise.Taking his first long,sharp drag of the poorly rolled up joint,his vision blurred,feeling the heavy effects as he came back to normal,the buzz around him fading.That's when he saw you,peeking around from the corner,a warm smile on your face.But you looked..different,more grown,his age and eerily beautiful His eyes widened as he stared at you coming in closer,dressed in Slytherin robes "Hi teddy,long time no see" your voice was sharper and cooler yet still had the underlining sweetness.You were dressed in Slytherin robes as if you were a student of Hogwarts.His eyes dart to Blaise who was leaned back,unbothered,enjoying the effects of the drug "Teddy?don't ignore me!" you demand,your eyebrows furrow,your cold and demanding tone making him hyperventilate as you draw closer "No!stop!" he yells getting off the couch,a pout appears on your lips "Theo,whats going on?" Blaise asks,his eyes darting to his freaked out friend "Her!Dont you see her!" he yells pointing to you,standing calmly,your head tilted as your arms are behind you back "Mate I dont see anyone,no one is there,hey calm the hell down" Blaise says as you glare at the boy talking,how dare he shout at your teddy?you'll punish him later. "Teddy,arent you happy to see me?" you ask as a black cat approaches you.Your eyes light up "You kept him!" you squeal as you lift the cat who purrs as you pet him Theodore did not sleep that night and Blaise woke up with painful scratch marks across his body.

The following week Theodore had changed.He barely talked,only drank coffee and barely ate,his eyes were contrasted with dark,swollen bags held beneath his gloomy gaze.He barely attended classes and spent his time cooped up in the restricted section of the library.The boy did not know what he was looking for,his friends were concerned but months later,he eventually returned back to his normal self. Thats when the nightmares started.Nightmares that made no sense,some were downright horrifying that scared his tormented mind but sometimes,he woke up in the middle of his night,sweat beads forming on his forehead as he panted roughly,fumbling to put on the sidelamp to illuminate his dark room.When he collected himself,he couldnt even remember what the nightmare entailed,or if he even had any.They didnt stop. However,there was one day where he was spared of all torment.

Theodore holds a bouquet of roses in his hands as he walks along the gravel path,being careful as to not step on anyone's graze.He stops the familar tombstone and sadly simles to himself,sitting down and placing the flowers on the base of it. "Hi mum" he says softly,looking at the dirty place and brushing some leaves and vines off the head of it,revealing his mothers name. "Its erm..been 10 years without you..still cant believe it,dont know how i'm still here honestly." he sadly mumbles,looking down,fidgeting with his hands "I miss you everyday..I always wonder how it would be like if you were still with me." his eyes well with tears "I always ask myself,if you wouldbe proud of the person i'm becoming.." tears start cascading down his cheek. "I..i..fuck" his puts his face in his plams,sobbing. He feels that familar,cold touch on his back,running up and down,comforting,pulling him into an embrace "Its ok,teddy.I'm here" you whisper sweetly in his ear The one day of the year he is ok with you being there,not shooing you away or yelling. That night he has no nightmares but feels an icy hand brushing the curls out of his face,sat next to him on his bed.

The nightmare's as well as your visits stopped when he turned 17.Sipping on his black coffee,listening to Draco and Mattheo's foolish arguement when Dumbledore makes an announcement. "Students!Welcome back from your breaks and welcome back to Hogwarts!before we sort our new first year's,we have a new 7th year student,welcome Ms.Y/N!"

The doors open and theodore's heart dropps,his face drains of colour as his nerves are filled with dread.A sudden coldness envelops him. The girl who has tormented him,who wasnt real enters through the large french doors,you look exactly the same.Long back hair,green eyes,think body but youre not as pale and youre eeriely pretty.You walk up to the sorting hat,students chattering amongst themselves at the sight of the new student "SLYTHERIN!"

the sorting hat deems as the entire house of slytherin erupts into celebration,everyone besides him.You walk to the end of the table,immediately chatting with friends you had in Hogwarts.Then,you feel gazes burning into you and look to see a group staring dead at you. You freeze as you lay eyes upon the boy who has always been there in your life,everywhere you went but would disappear years,months or days at a time.The one who haunted you. The colour drains from your eyes as both of you stare dead into eachothers eyes,your petrified gaze stuck on him as your leg begins to shake 'What the fuck'. you thought

You hurridly exited the great hall,mumbling some excuse about feeling ill to your friends You run down the hall,loosening the suffocating robes that weren't even tight.Paranoid,you run,feeling as of he was behind you.Your tormenter.He made your life hell at Beauxbatons causing you to leave and come here.Where he followed you.But he looked..different.He had more colour and he didnt wear that sickly smile he always had around you. Entering what seems to be the bathroom,you place your hands of the edge of the sinks,your head down as you try to collect yourself.Sweat beads forming on your face,you feel as if everything was closing in on you as you take deep,frantic breaths. The door opens.

Looking in the mirror,your heart drops as you see him.He wears an angry,stonic look as he appoches you,making you turn around "What are you doing here!Leave me alone!" you frightenly yell "Youre the one who has been torment me!" he scolds "What!no!you've followed me my whole life,ruined it!stop it!" Your words confuse him,making his eyebrows furrow "Youre the one whos stalked me and ruined my life!" the angry boy yells,secretly drawing his wand "What?You're the one who tried to kill me,you've been there,ruining everything!leave!now-" youre cut off by the green strobe hitting your chest "Sectumsempra" theodore yells,the green light darting out of his wand hits your chest,causing you to fall back,screaming As theodore hears your wails,he feels a similar ghostly,cold hand on his shoulder "Good job,Teddy" you warmly smile as he watches between you and well..you? As youre wailing,you see him crouch by you,sickly smiling "Awh,poor Y/N-ey" he fake puts,flollwing it with the same smile,brushing the curls out of your face as your gaze dart between him and..him? You let out another blood curdling scream,the red metallic liquid gushing out of your body as your eyes flutter,shutting

The next day Theodore Nott and Y/N did not show up to the great hall.The great hall's light and cheery mood was replaced with silenced whispering and an inexcusable eerie mood The Daily Prophet's report was the only thing being disscussed. DEATHEATER’S SON STRIKES Theodore Nott attacks Beaxbatons transfer,Y/N.

"Students." dumbledore spoke strictly "I am sure you have all heard about the unfortunate attack last night in the east wing's bathroom.Theodore Nott atttacked Y/N with a forbidden curse resulting in her being in fatal condition.She is currently being treated in the infirmary and we wish her a speedy recovery.However,Mr.Nott is nowhere to be found.If anyone has seen him please report it.From this point forward,Theodore Nott is considered a threat to Hogwarts."

[disillusioneddanny]

If It Makes You Happy (then why the hell are you so sad?)

Tim took a bite of his ravioli and looked around the table at his family. It was Sunday dinner. A monthly tradition where every member of the family adopted or otherwise came to spend a few hours together. It didn���t matter who was arguing with whom, or how estranged from the family you were at the time. You still had to attend the monthly family dinner. However, there were times when Tim wondered if anyone would notice if he stopped attending. If he no longer came to the dinners where he sat mostly unnoticed by the rest of his family. Where he typically sat in silence, having not uttered a single word throughout the entire event. Would they ever realize he was gone? Did they even realize he was there in the first place? 

A part of Tim truly doubted it, if he was being completely honest with himself. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to share with the family his upcoming exhibit. 

Tim was in his fourth year of college. Where he was getting a degree in Art, Technology, and Culture. It was a major that allowed Tim to immerse himself in photography, video art, creative coding, and so much more. He had gotten to work in traditional analog and digital photography. Played around with film and art in ways he had never thought of before while also learning about cultural theory, the expression of ideas, and cultural practices which gave him the chance to truly discover himself. It was the first time he had ever chosen something for himself. 

His entire life he had been groomed to run a business. To at first take over Drake Industries one day and then later Wayne Enterprises where he was unfortunately CEO. But then he had learned about the ATC program at Gotham University and he had fallen in love with it.  He had always been obsessed with photography and even film later on as he grew older and spent his days alone in dusty old Drake Manor. And he had always loved to learn about cultures, he ate up the stories from his parents and their trips abroad. Had spent countless nights watching the people of Gotham and how they did things, and had absorbed it all like a sponge to make up for the fact that he was just a lonely boy living in a manor by himself. 

Even when he had joined the Bats and had made his tiny little place with them, he still fell back on his love for learning about others and his desire to tell their stories. It had just become an intrinsic part of Timothy Drake. 

And now here he was, slowly creeping to the finish line. He had his senior showcase coming up. A requirement for all students who were receiving a bachelor of fine arts. He was to show off all of his best work from the last four years. It was a chance for him to show everything he had learned, and to display his work with pride. 

He had toyed with the idea of inviting everyone to it. To let them see the love that Tim had cultivated over the last four years. He was set to graduate in just a few months and the pride he felt for himself was tremendous. And if Tim invited the Wayne family to his senior showcase, then maybe they could come to his college graduation and share the achievement with them then too. 

It was a big time in Tim’s life and he wanted to share it with them. 

He listened as a lull came in the conversation and carefully cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others. 

“I have a senior showcase this weekend for my BFA. It’s at six in the evening in the Wayne Arts Center on Gotham Campus. I would be happy to see you all there,” he said hesitantly, eyes firmly trained on his plate of food. 

“That sounds nice, Tim. I’ll try to be there,” Bruce said politely before going back to his conversation with Jason and Dick. Tim felt eyes on him, though, and slowly looked up to find his little brother giving him a curious look. 

“What?” He asked, still trying to calm his heart just a bit. He still wasn’t sure why he came to these things, why he was even here. Just talking to the Waynes gave him anxiety. Just being here reminded him how much he didn’t belong. How other he was compared to the rest of the kids that Bruce had adopted? 

Damian tilted his head to the side. “I was not aware that you were getting your Bachelor's in Fine Arts. Will you tell me about your degree program? I have been thinking about getting an Art History degree but have been torn between that and a business degree.”

Tim gave him a small smile and rested his chin on his hand as he started to tell Damian all about his degree and how he was enjoying the program at Gotham University. The rest of the family went on to their own conversations while Damian listened with rapt attention to Tim describing the ATC program at Gotham U. 

The rest of the week was a whirlwind as he prepared for his senior showcase, he had sent out invitations to everyone he wanted to come see his work. The Team had already made a reservation to take Tim to lunch before the showcase before helping him get everything ready. And as the day came to be, they had made good on their word, taking him to his favorite Vietnamese restaurant in Gotham before taking him to the gallery. He blushed as he listened to his three best friend gush over his artwork, as they listened to him explain each piece. They asked questions and made remarks about what their favorite pieces were and even tried to buy a few pieces only for Tim to promise to give each of them prints of his photos. 

The three had left with quick goodbyes, each one giving Tim a hug and congratulating him before they made their way from the gallery. The rest of the evening dragged on as people came by and asked Tim about his photos and the small films that played on the movie screen on one wall. He smiled and explained each photo to anyone who asked. He had wanted to showcase his vigilante photos of the bats and birds but it had been too much of a risk to do so. 

Instead he had shown off his photos that showcased all of his favorite parts of Gotham. From the beautiful gothic architecture, the gargoyles that looked out over the city. He showed the photos from the last time Ivy had thrown a fit in Robinson Park and covered the entirety of the grounds with flowers. He showed the pictures of community from Crime Alley and the beauty of the strength of Gothamites who had managed to survive the worst of the worst. 

He also featured pictures of his family, of Dick hanging from a chandelier, of Damian training Titus to do a trick. He had a picture of Bruce, Alfred, and Jason sitting side by side as they each read a different book. One showed Cass as she posed for the camera in her favorite ballet form. They were some of his most treasured memories, there for everyone to see and enjoy. Tucker between the one of Damian and the one of Dick was a photo of Tim. He had taken forever to set up the camera and get the timer right. Alfred had simply chuckled the entire time as he continued to offer to take the picture for Tim but no one was meant to be behind the camera for that picture. It was the only family portrait of his entire family. Cass, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, they all sat smushed into a single couch together, wide smiles and laughs on each of their faces as Tim beamed from the far side, leaning into Alfred’s side. 

The gallery was meant to showcase culture that was important to Tim. To showcase the life that he loved and treasured. And even if he never felt like he quite fit in the Wayne Family, even though he knew that he was the expendable one, the replacement, he still treasured his family. It was why he had invited them, he had wanted them to see just how important they were to Tim. And maybe they would realize he was important to them too.

Only, the rest of the evening seemed to drag on, and not a single person from his family ever stepped through the door. He waited, shoulders tensed and smile polite. Every bit the gentleman that Janet Drake had trained him to be as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He kept glancing at the clock, waiting for Bruce or Dick or someone to walk through the doors, to say hello and look at all the work that Tim had put in the last four years in college. The hours ticked by until it was nearing ten pm and the gallery started to clear out, custodians came in and started to clean up around him. 

Tim cast one final look at the doors before he turned to his photos and started to take one off of the wall. 

“Master Timothy! I am so sorry that we are late,” a voice said and Tim quickly to find Alfred and Damian walking through the doors of the gallery. A small smile spread on Tim’s face as Damian bound forward. 

“I apologize,” Damian said softly, staring up at Tim with disgruntled eyes. “I got into an argument with Father and then Titus scared Alfred the Cat and we spent the last three hours searching for that blasted cat and when we realized the time we came straight here,” he said. “What did the others think of your exhibit?”

Tim’s smile fell and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “They uh, they didn’t show up,” he said quietly. “But if you’d like, you guys are the last ones to show up. I’d love to show you everything.”

Alfred’s face fell at that as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “That is their loss, my dear boy. I would love to see your work,” he said. Before he could stop himself, Tim pulled Alfred in for a tight hug, burying his face in the old butler’s chest as he held him close. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before pulling away. He glanced down at Damian and smiled. “How about I show you my work and then if my advisor is still here you can meet her and talk to her about the ATC program.”

The fourteen-year-old nodded his head once. “I would appreciate that,” he said before grabbing Tim’s hand hesitantly. He followed quietly as Tim showed them his pictures of Gotham, explaining the stories behind each one before he showed them his favorite pictures. His pictures of home and both men let out soft gasps as they looked at them. 

“Master Timothy, these are beautiful,” Alfred said, stepping forward to take in the picture of him, Bruce, and Jason. 

“The lighting for this is amazing, I did not know that I even smiled like that,” Damian said softly as he took in the picture of him smiling at Titus. 

“Oh Tim,” Alfred said quietly, losing all strict politeness that Alfred held so dear to his heart as he took in the family portrait. “This is amazing, Timothy. So absolutely perfect. I remember when you took this photograph. It was right after Thanksgiving dinner last year.”

���I was so irritated, Todd had gotten mashed potatoes in my hair,” Damian said with a huff, a small smile tugged on his face. 

“I did not even realize that Master Richard and Master Jason were hugging in this picture,” Alfred said, a soft smile sti on his face as he took in the way Dick had his arms wrapped around Jason’s shoulders, a wide smile on his face as he laughed at something Jason had said. A small smile sat on Jason’s face, his eyes brighter than Tim had seen since the older man had come back from the dead. 

Alfred tore his eyes from the picture. “How much?” he asked. 

Tim blinked. “What?”

“How much for the picture?” Alfred asked him, turning back to the family portrait. 

“For you?” Tim asked, blinking again in surprise. “Free of charge, considering it a thank you for coming to my senior showcase.”

“I would like this one of Titus and me,” Damian piped up. “It would be lovely on my desk in my bedroom.”

Tim sniffed, his chest tightening slightly. “I would be more than happy to give you both the original copies.”

“Timothy,” Alfred said, turning back to Tim, that soft, kind, smile on his face once again. “I am so incredibly proud of you.”

The vigilante’s eyes burned furiously. “I-I thank you,” he said, a soft sob slipped out of his mouth before small arms wrapped around him. Damian hugged him tight, his face pressed against Tim’s chest. 

“I am so sorry that our family forgot to come to your showcase, Timothy,” he said stiffly. “You are incredibly talented and it is their loss for missing out on this.”

Tim pressed a hand to Damian’s back, feeling tears building behind his eyes that threatened to spill over. “Thank you,” he whispered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he looked around and spotted his advisor. “There’s Professor Maheshawen. She’s my advisor. We can go talk to her and you can ask your questions, okay?”

Damian nodded and pulled away carefully, smoothing down the front of his sweater before he followed after Tim to meet his professor. Leaving Alfred to continue staring at the pictures with a kind smile on his face.

Alfred Pennyworth looked at the smiles on his charges faces and let out a breath. One of these days, Bruce and the others would realize just how important Timothy was to their family, how he was the one who held them all together. He only hoped that they would not realize that lesson too late in life. At the very least, Damian was now starting to understand just how wonderful Timothy Drake was. 

[bowieandqueen11]

Strawberry and Black Tea / Sanji Imagine

Request: for the fluffy sanji request-- maybe sanji and the reader end up sleeping in each other's rooms one night because its hard for them to sleep apart. reader gives sanji a good night kiss and he just falls into a lovesick puddle on the floor.

Something short and sweet because this idea is so so lovely, thank you anon!! :)

Warning: mentions of child abuse!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes @suuho.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

It was the Iron Mask that had left Sanji with such a distaste for the dark.

Even now, lying tossing and turning in his bunk on the Going Merry, the dark starlight that creeped through the lone porthole seemed to do nothing but shroud his eyes in a long-suppressed misery. It reminded him far too much of home. Of his father. Of nights spent trembling in dank corners: nothing but the touch of flimsy cobwebs against his outreached hands, and the ratchet of his own voice cawing off the empty stone chamber to ease the frightened child.

Until his paranoid eyes couldn’t tell of the receding monstrous shadow shrivelling up the tower was the receding form of his father, or the unyielding loosening of shrill’s death fingers rasping uneasily across the stone wall by his cage, finally come to fulfil her promise to take him away.

She grew closer and closer, until her liripipe seemed to crow through the bars as she leant down through the shadows to kiss his forehead.

He started scrambling back desperately along the dirty dust, still too young and inexperienced with the true hardships of his life to try and face them head on. Instead he buried his head into his crossed arms, tried his hardest to calm his panting breath, closed his eyes and squeezed. It was the only way, he thought in that tumultuous moment, it was the only at he would be able to hold onto his sanity. To pretend it was you. To pretend it was you. To believe it was you.

A rat scurried out of a hole between cracked shackles, sniffing the air as it noticed Sanji cowering in the corner: the same boy who had showed the rodent such kindness only e weeks before, feeding it leftover scraps of his mother’s favourite crumble, trying his best to clear the dish before his father realised it was missing. The poor thing ran over to Sanji’s shoe, it’s tiny claws pinching into the forgotten prince’s skin as it raised its little body up closer to him. But to that child - oh, that poor child - it was like bony fingernails biting into his bone and extruding coarse chills straight to the bone.

She had come. The wrong person had come. So he did what any young child would do. He started screaming.

He screamed your name. He screamed for his ma, until the screams died, choked by the wails sticking in his throat. Then he whimpered, clawing at the metal screwed against his cheeks until his fingernails were left stunted, jagged, bloodied.

He thought about how alone he was, but realised quickly that wasn’t what made him so sad. He thought about you: how you would react, how heartbroken you would be when his father announced to the world that the young Prince has perished in a terrible accident. He imagined your tear streaked face as you would watch the faux funeral procession parade in a cheerful solemnity down past the main market and into the sea, stealing away into the alleyway and seeing how alone you were.

Most of all, he felt guilty. Guilty that this was all his fault. That he had proved his brothers right. He was weak. He had destroyed his mother. He had ruined you. He was weak. And so he crumpled into a ball, falling onto his side and allowing the sweet embrace of the shadows to lap over him.

His cries had quickly fallen into pitiful whimpers. Then quiet sobs, jolting his body forward in convulsions that had left him gasping for breath every few minutes or so, only broken by the almost angelic sound of the iron wrought door being shoved unsteadily open, and the pained whisper from the top of the stairs. ’Sanji? Sanji! Where the- ow- are you?!’

'Y/-Y/n?' He clambered to his knees, and shoved his arms desperately through the bars, as if he could levitate you down towards him. 'I'm here! I'm here - please! Y/n!' His little fists began to bang on the bars as he scraped up to lean on his knees. 'Help me - get me out, please! She's going to kill me!'

It took you less than thirty seconds to scale down the remaining steps, nearly flying chin first down into the dirt. You didn't care though: not when Sanji's fingernails sliced desperately into your skin and burrowed into the meat of your arm, tugging your forehead against the cool metal of his own. You did your best to cup his face between the clunky mask, pressing your fingers down to his neck and pulling him even closer to you. 'It's alright - it's alright. I'm here. I'm going to get you out of here, Sanj. We're going to run, we're going to get away.'

He refused to let you go, even as you bit your lower lip in concentration and wiggled into your pocket to pull out a stash of bobby pins you had pilfered from Vinsmoke Reiju when you had slipped into the castle. Poor Sanji nearly flies backwards onto his behind when you finally manage to click the locked gate open, yet the realisation hardly seems to dawn on him; he's leapt on you in a second flat, knees knocking the wind out of your stomach as he tumbles his torso against your awaiting hug.

'You came', he heaved out between sobs, shoving his grimacing face into the throbbing pulse point on your neck, 'you came back for me... why would you come back for me.'

The absolute dejection in the final warble of his desperate plea made you bite down on your tongue so harshly, you had to shove it against the roof of your mouth for a moment to stop yourself from spluttering on blood. 'Because, Sanj... because you're my best friend. And I love you. And we made a promise, didn't we? We're going to go find the All Blue, but we're only going to do it together. Not one without the other, right?'

He head bobs quickly, desperately. Shaking fingers latch tighter into your back, and although he wants nothing more than to grab onto your fingers and fly to freedom up that winding staircase, he slides his legs to the side and comes to sit awkwardly on your lap like a frail bird. The soft tip of his nose tickles the shell of your ear as he whispers: 'like black tea and strawberry?'

You snort, but nod your head against the side of his curls, tightening your grip around the shaking expanse of his spine. 'Yes chef, like black tea and strawberry. Even though that sounds absolutely disgusting.' His laugh- god, his laugh was so warming, even if the sound cracks, hoarse and low as his face balls up. What was less welcome, though, were the few pearly tears that slipped past the cracks slats covering his eyes and began to trace down an old bruised hollow that lay sharp and gaunt on his neck.

'I'm sorry- I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry-', he starts to panic again, one eye blinking open as he stares into the inky depths of the umbral shade gathering over your heads. 'This is my fault. It's my fault we have to leave.'

'No.' You grab onto his shirt, nearly making him wince, but both of you refuse to unlatch from the other. 'No. This is not your fault. This will never be your fault, and I don't want you to think that for a second.'

The authoritativeness behind your shaking words was almost enough to make him believe you.

He nods slowly, but you can tell he's doing it just to placate you. 'I love you too, by the way', he sniffles, finally leaning back enough so he could wipe what he deemed as an unsightly amount of snot away from his nose. More than you know. More than he could even put into words. More than his young, frightful heart could even yet understand. He's too bashful to look you in the eye, instead skimming his eyes quickly over the torn threads of his kneecap, but finally allowing himself a respite of calm in the knowledge that the love he had been so desperately begging for hadn't abandoned him.

Before the adrenaline could rush out of his body, he leant forward with his head still bowed, and kissed your cheek as best he could in the darkness.

You hadn't left him. You hadn't: you never would. The revelation seems to shift the world around him, coaxing him into believing the sweet twilight sleeting across his eyes was sunlight instead; even though he still felt like his life was spent as a coin flipping through the air, so unsure of where it will land - of where it belongs - of the choices it will wrought, it felt a little easier afterwards, knowing he would eventually land. That it was your hand that would catch him.

He still hated the dark. And he still loved you more than life itself. Which is why you weren't surprised to find yourself running around your room at nearly one in the morning, trying your best to discreetly gather your bed sheets and sneak off towards the boy's cabin.

Before you could even finish gathering your pillow into your arms, the melodic rapt of Sanji's knuckles had rung out through the door. It took you less than thirty seconds to slide across the planks and fling it open, but it took the poor chef a lot longer to catch his breath and try to look more put together; he was doing his best to look suave by the way he was leaning his elbow against the doorframe, but the wind swept hair gave away the fact that he had come running over the side of the ship to get to you. The soft pant of his breath, the ruddy cheeks, the slight spasm of his abdominal muscles through his half-unbuttoned dress shirt, the scratch of his teeth against his inner lip line: you knew his tell-tale sings, his idiosyncrasies far too well. The man was flustered beyond belief, even if he did his best to cock his head and beam down at you.

What really gave it away - what really, really gave it away, though, was the fact that he literally had to clasp his hands together in front of his chest and wring them to stop them launching forward and grabbing onto you with the cloying, overwhelming power of eight octopus tentacles.

You almost have to shove your hand against your mouth to stifle your laugh at the way he flicked his head back to move the hair away from his eye: to anyone else, it would have seemed like an innocent tick. But he knew, and more importantly you knew too, that it was just so his glistening eyes could wander across your face, as if the lines and marks of your face mapped out the most beautiful treasure in all the seas.

'Well, my strawberry, I hope I didn't wake you from your beauty sleep. Not that you need it! But I, I was hoping, if you were to grace me with such luck, that I may come in-'

Before he can even finish, you've grabbed the knot of his tie and have hauled him across the door line like a fisherman reeling in his hook. Sanji goes flying, landing safely in your open arms, and flopping his back down pleasantly into your hammock. Sanji's eyes widen as he comes sliding down the material towards you, headfirst, stopped only when his chest does the job for him. His arms thump clumsily around your back, using his fall as an excuse to pull you as physically close to him as he can. He huddles up against you, his hand spreading across your shoulder blade and guiding your ear down to rest comfortably just above his right pec. You flush, pretending you don't feel the firm ripple of his tense muscle: don't hear the pounding shudder of his tell-tale heart.

'I'll take that as a yes, ma chérie.'

Distracted by the way your arm falls around his stomach, idly reaching up to curl back the stray edges of his fringe behind the corner of his eye again, his legs inch closer... and closer... and closer... until his left one has plunked down above your own. You have to bury your head into his neck to stop yourself from laughing at how incarnadine his face spreads, warm pink waves radiating off his cheeks as you lift up your knees and slide your free leg in between the heavy weight of his thighs. Bless his heart, it must have taken some exertion to hold it the way he did, making sure not to place his full weight on you, but just enough that the contact was physically there.

'You know', Sanji starts, once he has calmed his heart from beating so rapidly he feared it may have flopped out through his throat, 'Zeff used to give me a kiss goodnight.'

You lift your head to stare at him incredulously. 'No he didn't. I was there for only... uh...', you lift the arm hanging over the soft skin of his bellybutton to ostentatiously count on your fingers, waving them in front of his face. 'Hm, look at that - fifteen years!?'

He leans his head down until his chin is tucked into his neck, and does his best to try and hide the way his lips are warbling into a grin; he tries to play it off as him finding your antics amusing, as he strokes his fingers tenderly over the warm cotton on your shoulder, but inside he's just so beyond giddy to know that you remembered. To know that you had been together so long. To know that after all this time, after all the two of you had been through, he would gladly dredge through the unspeakable caliginosity again, if it meant he could always arrive at this moment. If it meant, no matter what his life threw at him, he could spend every moment of it by your side.

Even if the shadows are juddering up the walls of the girl's cabin too: even if your stroking fingers can't mask the memories of death's sharp knuckles stretching out across the walls. Even if he were to land, right now, in the waves: if he were to capsize and drown, he would be happy. He would be happy, because it was your hand instead. Your hand.

Too timid still, too apprehensive to admit that which had been a heavy weight holding down the flight of his sweet heart, he hides his love behind canorous tease.

'Yeah, well, Zeff did it when he could be arsed. Which I’m pretty sure was never.'

You snort, and he delights at the sound that he had drawn out. His vice like grip on your side tightens, but you decide better than to tease him for the way he begins squirming himself against you. He finally settles properly on his side, the bridge of his nose so dangerously close to yours that you can feel the shallow warmth of his breath brush over your bottom lip.

'Well-', he starts, trying to distract himself from your proximity. He was failing horribly, of course, because his eyes kept falling down to stare blankly at the seam of your lips. 'This does sure beat sleeping on the dungeon floor, even if we do have to put up with Luffy's snoring.'

'Hm, the dungeon wasn't too bad. Cosy', you say teasingly, letting your finger dance down the shell of his ear, pointing the tip against the jut of his chin and lifting his gaze with a smirk.

'How'd you figure that, sweetheart?' The feel of your finger against his skin, no matter how miniscule the touch, was enough to make the fibres of his body burn with such a want that it almost scared him.

'Because... it was the first place you ever kissed me.'

Sanji starts, eyes widening as he feels his limbs turn to stone.

He can't hide in the shadows anymore. Now, he has to come into the light. Has to let himself be free.

'Yeah, well strawberry', he wets his bottom lip with a dart of his tongue, and folds himself further down the hammock so his knees are drawn warmly up against your own. The shaking of his torso is only overshadowed by the widening of his eyes, so full of deep wonder the dams might have burst and drowned you if he hadn't spent so years cautiously restraining himself. You draw a finger down the pulse point of his neck, and he feels that resolve weaken.

He feels like that frightened boy again, but he knows it has to be now. He knows he's been lucky to have had the luxury of borrowed time, but the bell has tolled: the bill has come due, and now he must admit the truth of his life - of his soul - of his heart, for he doesn't know when it will become too late.

He wanted to kiss you. God, he had wanted to kiss you so badly for fifteen years it hurt. Now, now he was going to create his own light: he was going to thrive, in spite of it all. He was going to allow that child to live. The cage was open. He was free. His choices were decided by nobody now but by his own ruling, his own compassion, and he had wasted far too many years training himself to be sceptical, precise, composed.

'... If you may be so kind as to permit it... I think this beautiful ship might end up being the second.' He leans his torso forward, and after a bashful burn flickers over his cheeks, he squeezes his eyes shut and plants a wet kiss against your cheek, just like he had done all those years before.

He suddenly becomes hyperaware of it all: of the closeness of your thigh against his own: slick, naked, vulnerable below your pyjama shorts. Your warm breath, inching closer and closer to his trembling mouth as he juts his head back to look warily at you, so afraid he's messed everything up.

But then you surprise him; you rush forward, overwhelming and crushing in the way your lips pliantly slide over his own, licking against the inside of his bottom lip as it drops open, breathlessly.

He had been waiting for this - over and over since the two of you were children. This thought - the idea that he would finally get here was the only thing that had kept him grounded. Kept him sane. And so he kissed you back: heartily, heavily, with a slipping mouth awaiting your tongue, and clawing fingers coming up to rapt into your cheeks as if you were something fleeting: as if he were still spinning in mid-air, waiting for the shadows to snuff the light out again.

When you finally find the strength, the resilience to pull away, neither of you seem to be able to muster the courage to just finally admit the truth you had both always known. Sanji, instead, looks youthfully shy as he tries to hide his wanting - god, so longing gaze behind his fringe once more, although his tongue can't help but prod against his bottom lip as if in disbelief.

'Like strawberry and black tea, right?', he finally asks against the side of your mouth, nudging his nose against your own and smiling fondly.

'Like strawberry and black tea.'

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? (König x F!OC)

Part 3/3 of Valkyrie

(Part 2 here)

(Part 1 here)

Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.

Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff

Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters. 

A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi. 

The first thing she noticed was the combat dummy in the corner of the room. There was no light in the ceiling, only a small table lamp on the floor next to his bed... Which was really only a thin mattress placed on the floor with a meticulously tucked bed sheet on it. There was no furniture to speak of except for the tall gun safe and some bland table where he had a kettle and a half-open bag of bread lying next to a toaster. There was a small fridge under the table, and deposited there on top of it, out of direct sight, a simple knuckle duster.

Piles of books lay on the floor next to his so called bed, and she was pleasantly surprised: he didn't strike her as a bookworm type of guy. She briefly caught sight of a few titles, mostly nonfiction: he had volumes on rifles and combat sports like krav maga and escrima, along with some German books about hunting, knives…— and there were knives all over the place: hanging from a lone hook on the wall, lying on the table, next to a pile of books, next to the mattress. Probably hidden ones, too, but where in all this minimalistic scarceness, she couldn't tell.

He didn't have a television. There was no computer, not even a laptop. She wondered how his officers got in touch with him, for it was dubious that he even owned a phone.

"This is where I sleep," he introduced his apartment, waving a hand in a vague gesture that said It's not much, but it's home.

She didn't know whether to feel pity or terror. She was relatively sure she was the first girl to set foot in here. The red flags were all over the place, but she only felt a tug near her heart from the realization that this guy was lonely. Like really, really lonely. Potential school shooter who grew up kind of lonely.

God, why did she have to have a soft spot for lunatics like him...

"Would you like some coffee?"

He turned to look at her, and she felt tightness in her chest from that drained, sad stare. He had been so carefree, so giddy, but all of that was gone. She had seen it in the pub already, the moment she laid eyes on him, that something was terribly wrong. She wondered who was the one responsible for making this man lose his goofiness. Shed that lovely, inculpable nature that made him singularly him. Whoever it was, she wanted to smack them in the head. Hard.

Without his gear and mask or even that black face paint, he looked more human. There were no barriers between them, no profession stamped on him: he was simply…him. But the intensity was there, always there. He was an outrageously tall, athletic man, and teeming with latent violence.

She wasn’t intimidated by that, per se. She had fired her rifle alongside dozens of big, dangerous men. Menacing men. It was something else, something essential in this man's character that made her feel a little on edge.

If her mother could see where she was now, in a dark flat filled with nothing but weapons and white bread and a towering, introverted dynamite stick of a man, she would probably deem the situation more dangerous for her than Russia and Brazil combined.

"No thanks, I'm good."

He ran his fingers through his hair, which was much longer than 8 months ago. He still had that side shave, but the light ash curls on top were unkempt and fell partly on his forehead.

"Or tea? I think I got tea here somewhere… "

And there he was: that adorable, silly man she had fallen for.

If nothing more, she would make it her mission to at least get him to smile.

She shook her head slowly before walking to him and grabbing two fistfuls of his black t-shirt. He straightened like someone had called ten-hut, making it clear that she wasn't the only one who felt like a tightly coiled spring. But someone had to make the first move. Someone had to do something.

He had shaved a day, maybe two ago, and the stubble that dusted his chin and the top of his upper lip was only a faint shadow, but still coarse enough to sting her skin as she got up on her toes to kiss him.

He closed his eyes and bent into it. He didn't touch her, wouldn't reach for her, just opened his mouth against hers and moaned. Like a tortured man about to break.

"Mh- I've thought about you every day," she whispered, still clinging to his shirt, and he finally wrapped his arms around her. "Every damn day…"

"Meine kleine Walküre…"

"I thought I would go mad at some point."

I didn't know who you were, I couldn't come back to you, I knew nothing about you.

"I know."

He knew.

He knew the slow descent into madness, the craving. The mornings that felt like waking up in a limbo. The nights that only sharpened the pain.

And of course he did.

"You kept me alive," he said as his erection pressed against her, and her mind was flooded with memories of the grey room, the bleak light in the ceiling, the ropes biting into her wrists, the way he fucked her like they were both going to die the next day.

And she realized that he was real. He wasn't a schizophrenic dream or an erotic nightmare. He wasn't even a soldier; he was a man, a person.

He was a real, actual person under that hood and face paint and tactical vest and ammo pouches. He had an apartment and dirty socks on the floor, and he drank lager, and he had toast and a toaster, and he owned relatively normal clothes.

And right now, even though her panties were soaked, she didn't want him inside her.

"I'm a bit nervous," she said, stiff and near the point of breaking into a cold sweat. He caressed the small of her back and shoved his crotch against her even more eagerly.

"König, please… Could you just… hold me?"

He stopped and swallowed, and his hands traveled back up.

"I will do whatever you wish."

"Perhaps we could lie down? And just… hug, you know?"

"I'd love that," he said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic.

His sheets smelled of him, and she felt the cold sweat intensify. Her stomach sank, and she was glad that she was lying down because her feet wouldn't probably carry her at this point. He laid himself down next to her and gave her his pillow. It was a lovely gesture, but she felt like she was lying down with a murderer. Which he was. Which she was. They both had killed, her confirmed body count reaching 23 when she had left the SpecGru. His count was probably much higher...

She snuggled closer, tucked her head under his chin, and let him hold her. His whole body was tense, but he eased into the embrace after ten or twenty breaths. Cuddling usually came after the sex; after the release of stress and tension, and right now, they were both like teenagers in an empty house with the parents gone. Sweating with the jitters of coming to know how the other person's body felt like.

She dragged a leg over him at some point, and he sank his own between hers, and they just breathed each other. She wondered how they must look, her small form and light blue jeans and white shirt swallowed by all that black he wore. A fair little lady cuddled by a dark giant. A giant who everyone could tell, just by the clothes he wore, was either an employed soldier or a crazy militarist. And she liked that. She fucking loved that he didn't disguise himself as an ordinary civilian. Unlike she did, and she felt like a liar... along with feeling tired of pretending that she wanted the next bachelor when all she really wanted was a guy like him.

Finally, her nerves calmed down, and she could hear the silence of the room, the sound of his breathing, could feel the warmth of his arms around her.

"This feels good," she told him.

"This feels better than anything," he answered.

He seemed peaceful too. All that shifting around had turned into deep breaths and a steady heartbeat. She caressed his back, closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek more firmly against his chest — how many times had she dreamed of this moment? She inhaled him, and the scent aroused different memories this time, making her feel like a balloon drifting up to the ceiling.

"I like you, König." She squeezed him against her. "Like, a lot."

He squeezed her back and announced: "I love you."

Her mind went blank and then screamed error.

She wriggled out of his grasp, propped herself on her elbow, and looked down at him. He stared at her like a dog waiting for a treat from a well-done trick.

"You can't say that, König."

His long, pale lashes batted a few times, and a vertical wrinkle appeared between his brows.

"No, you... You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry. It's just that..." She pursed her lips, bit her lower lip, and placed a hand on his chest. "We barely know each other."

His eyes darted from her lips to her eyes, confused. "But I already know I love you."

How could she argue with a man who looked at her like that? Who looked like a dog being scolded for things he didn’t know he wasn't supposed to do…

I went to therapy because of you.

We met in a fucking bunker where you were asking politely if I would co-operate in you raping me. Fucking co-operate…

And you looked like Death…

"König… Baby, I don't even know your name."

He wrapped an arm around her waist in an attempt to pull her closer.

"Julius."

He said it from the back of his throat, it rolled off his tongue and ended in a soft hiss, and she felt lighter in the head by the minute.

Julius, like… Julius Caesar.

Or July. June and July.

This was so fucked up…

"Can I taste you?"

The wintry eyes looked at her, begging.

"Let me taste you, June. Please…"

Oh God… Yes, please, yes.

"Umm. Sure.."

He moved immediately, and she was almost thrown to lie on her back while he reached for her jeans to take them off, his large hands clumsy and cold against her exposed skin. She raised her hips to help him as he pulled them down, trying to stifle a giggle that was bubbling inside at seeing him so keen on giving her head. The pants got stuck on her ankles, and he tugged them off one leg at a time, causing one sock to come off and the other to come halfway down. And he just left it there, being too preoccupied with getting back between her legs to reach for her panties.

She thanked herself for having put on the smaller, black brazilian knickers instead of some comfortable, worn-out hipsters. And that she had shaved...

He was much more attentive with this piece of clothing, sliding it down like he was opening a gift. And when he took the panties off and still left that lonely sock unattended, crumpled, and forgotten, she couldn't help but snicker.

"Was?"

He looked at her with a perplexed smirk, clueless as to what was so funny — but smiling just for the sake of having made her laugh. The black underwear looked tiny in his hands as he placed it next to the bed.

She remembered how he had left her socks on in the bunker, too, perhaps because he was in a nervous hurry. Or perhaps because he didn't want her to feel cold.

She bent her leg and took it off herself, throwing it somewhere behind him.

"Nothing. Except that you're officially the cutest."

He ran a hand through his hair again. That bashful, boyish attitude made her realize just how much she had missed him. His gaze flicked to her eyes, darted between her legs, flew to examine the floor… and she could see the tent in his pants even though there was little light in the room.

"And now the shirt," she rose to seated and raised her hands up, making it clear what she wanted him to do. He wasted no time pulling it over her head but froze when he was met with the black, laced bra, the only barrier left between him and her complete nakedness.

As much as she wanted to, she didn't tease him by making him figure out the mechanism. She reached for the clasp, and he leaned slightly back when she took it off with little ceremony and threw it on the floor with the rest of her clothing. When she grabbed his hand to bring it to her breast, he looked like he had stopped breathing altogether.

"Everything good?"

"Perfekt," he said, looking terrified.

"Come here," she pulled him by the neck all the way down to lay on top of her. He supported himself on his elbows while his hands came to cradle her head. He was tense again, and she wondered whether the cuddling had been a bad idea — he had relaxed too much and was now overstimulated.

The whole body on her was rigid, but his mouth was soft and warm as he kissed her — so greedily that her legs began to ride up along his sides. When he moved to wolf her neck, her weakest spot, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he finally melted against her.

"I dreamed of you," he breathed against her skin, making her eyes flutter open and her pussy clench around nothing. "Every night…"

Through the euphoria of his accent and lips, she deciphered that what he actually meant was that he had masturbated on thoughts of her. And she had done the same: stroked herself night after night on thoughts of him telling her how tight and good she felt around him. It was downright sinful how many times she had reminisced the high-pitched sighs, that vulnerable look he had when he shot his cum inside her.

"Did you ever think of me?" He asked with a frail voice.

She had gone on a few dates, had a few fucks. Ended up feeling disappointed, and even more lonely. Dirty and sad — like she was cheating on him…

"If only you knew just how much," she whispered to the ceiling above her.

He brushed a trembling thumb over her cheek and buried himself even deeper in her neck.

"Shit… Ist das dein Ernst?"

She loved it when he spoke German. And hated how most of the time, she couldn’t understand what the hell he was saying.

"June... Du machst mich verrückt."

"What are you saying, silly…"

"You drive me crazy."

He was so… present, devoted. So unlike the men who almost screamed "Score" when they got this far. He was saying stupid, lovely things that didn't sound at all like a yucky romcom, not when they came from him. He ripped her clothes off because he wanted to please her, taste her... And had no trouble pressing against her while having his own clothes still on — those black pants that would get stained if he continued to grind against her drenched pussy like that.

"You'll drive me crazy too if you don't finish what you started..."

He chuckled and resumed giving her those tiny kisses that only left her wanting more.

"Don't worry, little one." He planted a last kiss on her collarbone before diving down.

"I'm not -"

The rest of the sentence turned into a gasp as his lips swept over her sternum, her nipples, sent shivers across her stomach as he trailed down, down…

"Yes you are," he muttered against her mound, going further down still. Like a man with a purpose.

Hot air hit her as his tongue swept through her folds, first pointed and quivering, then flat and hungry. Her hand shot out to grasp his hair, those stupid, adorable curls that drove her to the brink of insanity.

"Mmh," he moaned in her pussy, pressing his lips against her and opening his mouth. She didn't have time to worry about the bite of his stubble, for he pushed his tongue out. Either he had an excellent memory, or then it was beginner's luck, but he hit just the right spot as the hot, wet tongue plunged slightly inside her.

"Oh - fuck.. "

He got the cue to the full, shoving even deeper, sweeping arms around her thighs to pull her against his face. He decoded her within minutes with a combination of flicks, sweeps, and thrusts. She opened her legs wider, felt herself open like a flower, felt the juices leak out while he was at it like a tried and true engine. So tireless that it sent her thighs quivering. They never did that — at least not with anyone else. It was his unique talent to make a mess of her. If he proved smart enough to apply fingers, she would lose her goddamn mind.

"You are dripping," he informed from among the sloppy sounds she was perfectly aware of. "Like a honeycomb…"

What was it with this man that nearly made her cry?

He kissed her with devotion, almost like he was kissing her lips. The languid pecks and slow nips soon turned into french kissing as he applied tongue again. Her fingers curled into his hair on their own accord and pulled. She could feel his mouth open into a grin before a soft huff hit her.

"Heh…" he kissed her again, "Gierig.."

"What does… ah -.. that mean?"

She could’ve cried from frustration when he slowly got back up to his knees. His lips and chin glistened with her - and he was grinning adorably. That earlier naive cuteness made such a comeback that she had a hard time catching her breath.

"Greedy." He licked his lips. "You like it?"

She nodded a few times, many times, and the impish, pussy-drunk grin of his only widened.

"Gut."

He made a move to return down there, looking like he had received the best assignment ever.

"König… Uh, Julius?" She pronounced it like July, and he corrected her immediately.

"Julius."

So husky and sweet from those soaked lips — like music.

"Julius," she rose back to seated, thighs still trembling, and grabbed the front of his shirt. "Could you take this off?"

He reached back with both hands and pulled it off, leaving his hair all tousled once the fabric was drawn over his head. She vaguely knew what to expect, but the amount of muscle still made her gawk like a goldfish.

The man was like a roman sculpture. Not an artificial, overly shredded fitness type of thing, but a man who used his body like it was meant to be used. The light brown hair between the plates of his chest was simply irresistible. She placed a hand on it, and he looked down, fascinated by what she was doing. She ran her fingers through the soft, sparse hair, trailed the breath of it all the way down to his navel. The muscles there rippled at her touch. He was ticklish… and some stupid part of her brain squealed at the discovery.

She wondered whether he had been touched before, whether he had been touched much at all. He had an ungodly shoulders to hips ratio, and a broad, toned physique, which alone should've made women want to crawl all over him. Perhaps he had walked through life half invisible because he wanted to stay that way - in hiding. And suddenly she felt special, outright exceptional... for having been chosen, having been granted access to him. His world.

He trusted her. It should've been a compliment, even a turn-on, but she felt like she didn't deserve it. And it was too late to turn back...

Looking up to his eyes which were fixed on her, expectant and dark, her fingers dropped to his pants, curled under the waistband, and gave it a tug.

"And everything else, too."

He sat back on his legs, opened the belt, undid the zipper, and stood up to take his pants off. From where she was looking, he was like a god, the muscles on his thighs bunching as he switched his weight from one leg to the other to yank his pants down and socks away. When he was finally free of those clothes, he grabbed that monster between his legs with one hand, lifted it, and stroked it absentmindedly while looking down at her, all hungry. Possessive...

Car lights flashed through the window and painted shadows on the wall, on him, painting him with blue and black just before he descended upon her. She greeted him with spread legs and open arms as he got down, carefully, like a man preparing to pray. With his hand still wrapped around himself, he guided the tip to her folds, brows knit together like he was on a serious mission that required all his attention. She reached a hand to grab him too, and it was like a dream, the way they directed him inside together.

Her inner muscles welcomed him home with a greedy pull, not bothered by the stretch that only felt fucking delicious.

She pushed him further in with her legs, wrapped around his hips like a starfish around prey. He was forced to fall on his hands, and he exhaled like someone easing into a hot bath, blowing air from the raw sensation — although he was dipping into somewhere far better than that, she presumed.

She noticed a scar on his neck as he exposed his throat, half-lidded eyes drifting closed with pleasure. Her hand rose on its own will to touch the white protrusion, fingertips caressing the spot where someone had tried to finish him and failed.

And she knew that she didn’t want to spend her life without this man.

Didn’t want to spend a day without him anymore.

He flinched at her touch, looking like he was the one being fucked and not the other way around. Her touch was a reminder that someone had gotten too close - way too close. And had probably paid the full price for their insolence.

“Baby…” she whispered, and his head dropped with a broken sigh, hanging heavy against his chest as he slid in and out of her. It was supposed to be a homecoming, a sweet reunion, but he was shaking and sobbing, grunting between the thrusts.

She knew he was repeating the words in his head, the words he thought she didn’t want to hear.

Fuck it… I love you too.

It was a deafening declaration in her head, one she couldn’t snuff out, one that only got louder as he thrust deeper, pressed against her, and moaned as he buried his face in her hair.

“You feel so good… taste so good,” he said, “smell so good…”

Having the biggest, baddest mercenary of a rivaling military contractor between her legs, sighing how good she was, might be reason enough to seek therapy — but it was also the one thing she knew would send her straight to heaven.

And it was too much.

He was too much. She didn't want to cry, and she didn't want him to hold her, to slide in and out slowly, fondly, lovingly. Just the way he was doing right now… She wanted to drown the blooming intimacy, she wanted him to shut the fuck up and fuck her.

More than anything, she wanted to escape the feeling that she belonged here, with him.

“Please… just..”

“Talk to me, Engel.”

Shit.. It was a purr.

“I need you harder.”

He only slowed down, confused.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” she said, hating herself for tearing apart the one thing she loved most about him.

But he did as he was bid, upping the tempo, going deeper, breaking her in all the ways she wanted him to. Needed him to.

"Like this?" The voice was abrupt, metallic, almost freezing. It didn't belong to a man, it belonged to a soldier executing an order.

“Yes…”

He was looking at her, and this time it was her turn to avoid the gaze. She already knew it was filled with confusion and hunger and sadness. She looked at his muscles at work, the ridiculously large cock disappearing into her, she looked at the scars... That scar, the one that screamed that not only he was lucky that the weapon had missed by an inch. That she should count her blessings, too.

At some point, he grunted in frustration and moved to throw her legs over his shoulders. He could pound inside even deeper like this, and it didn’t hurt at all, even though she felt a strange warmth pool somewhere deep in her abdomen.

He fucked her on that thin mattress and all she could think about was whether he would offer her tea or coffee after, or bring her toast to the bed.

“Harder..”

The sheet started to come off, the slick sounds bordering on pornographic, his chest getting covered in sweat.

God, she made him sweat. She wanted to wash him after, smear him with whatever stupid shower gel he had in his apartment that reeked of loneliness, a fragrance she knew more than well.

She wondered if he would want to cuddle again after they had showered together. Or cuddle before, so she could inhale his scent, the full brunt of him. If she could stay for the night. Fuck…

“Harder.”

He dared to whimper, dared to look at her all helpless. But obeyed.

Shit, he felt good. Too good. Too fucking….

"Wait..."

She was about to come, but something was different.

"Wait-"

Something was wrong and right at the same time, the thickness and length pressing onto something unusually delicious. It left her shaking, caused her to feel full to the brim. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out, and he wouldn't relent with the thrusts, but he had to soon enough, for she burst, literally, with wetness that spread through the sheets under them and caused his cock to fly out of her with a gush of moisture.

Oh jesusfuckinggod… -

He was between her legs, cock bouncing up and down. It was sheened with an insane amount of natural lube, and he was looking down at what she had done.

"What happened?"

The innocent question, the humiliation made her cheeks pang with heat.

Take a deep breath, calm down, calm the fuck down..

"It's…"

It's called squirting, you adorable big puppy. You just made me fucking squirt.

"It's a woman's orgasm but times ten?"

She wanted to add Jesus Christ I'm sorry, and it's a good thing, trust me, but she didn't need to.

"I… made you do that?"

She nodded, and another wide grin slowly spread on his face. He adored the scene, amazed and eyes sparkling like it was Christmas morning and he had walked up to see that there were presents under the tree.

He reached for his cock to insert himself back inside, but she jerked away.

"No, wait… It - it might happen again," she stuttered a warning. She wasn't sure, but she didn't want to take the risk. This kind of thing had never occurred, even if she knew what it was. Even envied those who had had the experience. But for the love of god, why did it have to be him out of all men who got to witness it when it finally happened…

But he only looked even more reckless. Almost wild.

"So let's do it again!" He was so excited that his voice spiked up a few notes.

"But your sheets…"

"Nevermind them," he huffed, ecstatic, and crawled forward. He pushed inside, fast and luscious, and she knew right then and there that it would definitely happen again.

He began to ruin her with a frenzy that was almost eerie. The rhythm of slick sounds told her enough, told her that he pistoned her with a pace that would soon drive her insane.

“You’re a fucking fantasy, June,” he groaned, the darker parts of what made him a ruthless professional soldier leaking through.

"Oh God," she breathed this time, deciding she could feel ashamed later. "It feels so fucking good…"

"I'll be good to you, Engel, I'll be good," he grunted as he continued to fuck her brains out.

She cursed and moaned and wailed, letting all his neighbours know that the big, quiet soldier boy was good at what he did. Fucking best. And she knew she should've said her prayers when her eyes rolled in her head and she started to see white.

It didn't take longer than a second or two before it happened again, this time with a force that nearly made her snap and split in half. More than a few squirts hit him as he pulled out. His jaw hung open like he was looking at fireworks.

“Huh -mh, yeah,” he wheezed, sounding dazed. “Verdammt - scheiße…”

She was writhing, crying, shedding actual tears — grabbing the sheet next to her head with one hand and beside her thigh with the other. Her legs were spread like she was on display, her thighs shaking like the muscles there had been permanently damaged. Kate had been more right than should've been legally fair…

"Gott, du bist schön," he commented on the sight while stroking himself, eased by the fluids all over his cock.

She thought about helping him, but couldn't get up, couldn't even move her hands, could only pant and shudder as he milked himself before her to a quick release.

He threw his head back and almost roared, and the only thing on her mind was the phrase saddest people cum the hardest as his seed shot out in generous spurts, hitting her almost in the face. The first gush already ran down her neck by the time the second fell, a thick rope of cum landing on her breasts, the rest on her stomach.

Something twisted in her stomach when she realized he had called her beautiful one moment and proceeded to cover her with cum the next.

Men…

But it was so fucking good that she only wanted to raise a hand and spread his seed all over her. He was breathing heavily with a softening cock in his fist, the last of the cum dripping to join the mess she had made.

"I hope you got a spare one," she looked at the destroyed sheet between them.

"Yeah," he panted still, half-lidded eyes looking at her up and down like he was piss-drunk and about to pass out.

She patted the space next to her, and he collapsed there, staring at the ceiling, probably trying to remember his name. She took his arm and raised it to wiggle herself under it and against him.

It felt good, being glued to him like this… Naked and spent and sweaty. He shifted, turned to face her, and took her in his arms as they both lay on their side, breathing heavily. She was pressed against the damp hair on his chest while his cum trailed little pathways between them.

"Please tell me you're mine, little Valkyrie," he whispered in her hair. He inhaled deeply and exhaled fully, like he had been in the thin mountain air and only now got enough oxygen again.

"June, I want you and no one else."

Oh, honey… it's just the mind-blowing sex talking.

It was pillow talk and hormones and trauma and all that shit. She was now 110 % sure that he had lost his virginity in that bunker. He wasn't the first nor the last man who thought they had fallen in love with a woman, not realizing what they had really fallen for was sex.

"I love you, June. If you don't want to hear it anymore, I won't say it. But it's true."

"Look…" she sighed.

This was so fucking awkward...

"Have you ever been in love before..?"

"No."

"Listen. I like you, you're a nice guy. And I want to get to know you, really, I do…-"

His breath had shallowed — far too much. The large chest beside her heaved, and she could both hear and feel his heart thumping. He shifted away from her, and she snapped her mouth shut. Slowly, she raised to look at him, and the sight drove a fucking lance through her heart.

She didn’t really know what a panic attack was, but was fairly positive that he was about to have one. He was laying on his back, big palms against his head, and he slid them over his eyes, trying to hide from her. His breathing was getting out of hand by the minute.

Fuck… Why did she have to fucking ruin everything?

"Hey, baby. It's alright. Everything's all right, just.. Breathe. Or talk to me…?"

He balanced on the edge of hyperventilation, still holding his head with his hands, eyes squeezed shut and that beautiful face distorted into agony and pain.

"You don't… want me."

Ice seeped into the pit of her stomach.

"Yeah, it's true I've never been with anyone. I was too shy. Ich habe nie bekommen, was ich wirklich will. Alle lachten und nannten mich Schwul… Und das war nicht das Einzige- mmh."

He was sweating from the German confession she understood but a few words of.

The only thing she caught was something about everyone laughing at him. People were horrible sometimes… or usually. People were vile, they were fucking bullies. But even if he was a bit too kind, a little too eager to please, and socially more than a bit on the awkward side of things, she had thought it a miracle that anyone would pester someone of his size. But exclusion and words could hurt too.

And she felt like an asshole.

She was good at bringing down strong, beautiful things. She liked to drag them through the mud. She was talented at taking aim at the most vulnerable parts and pulling the trigger... But he was already there. He was looking at her from a pool of blood and shit and tears. And she was not the only one who got traumatized in that box made of cement. She was not the only one who had had it rough growing up. From what she could tell, he had had it much worse.

"June, you feel so good that it hurts."

Shit…

Her stomach burst with golden fireflies, a warmth that spread to her heart, her whole chest. Ice and gold and fire mixed together, and she knew it was dangerous… He was dangerous. He was the most frightening thing she had ever faced.

She reached to brush his chest, feeling clumsy, like a child. A total amateur when it came to these things.

"You feel good too," she whispered. "So good. I'm just- I'm scared. It's scary."

She put her arm around him and pulled, then yanked when he wouldn't move. He turned, and she took him in her arms. His head pressed inelegantly between her breasts as she gave him a hug that she hoped would deliver all her affection.

He almost trembled in her arms, and the stabbing, burning feeling in her chest wouldn't stop.

"You really stole my heart, you know? Right from the start."

A breath of warm air crashed against her skin as she slowly stroked the back of his head and whispered in his hair.

"And I've thought about you ever since. It's ok if you want to say it. If that's how you truly feel. But please don't say that I don't want you. Because that sure as hell ain't true."

"...Ok," he muttered in her tits — a quiet, damped breath.

"König, could you just give me some… time? Just take it slow, if that's ok with you."

She refused to say his real name, knowing she wouldn't be able to lie anymore if she did. That she was just as far gone as he was, and having a radical acceptance moment about it. Even her therapist would’ve been proud… Or not. But she really didn't give a fuck.

She released her death grip on him a little, and he slowly raised his head to look at her. It was oddly charming that he was looking up at her and not the other way around.

"Take it slow. Ok. I promise I'll be good to you."

She tried her best not to burst into tears. She tried her very best to keep her hand steady as it caressed his hair, his neck, his back.

"You're so sweet."

She moved to kiss him, a pure cinematic kiss that was unhurried, exquisite, and just the kind of starved that told her he was the one.

"Anybody ever told you how sweet you are?" She whispered in his mouth and could feel how the muscles on his stomach contracted.

"Nein," he rasped back, voice so low that she nearly didn't recognize it belonged to him. He was getting hard again, too.

"Well, now you know," She kissed the top of his nose. She wondered if he had the kind of skin type that was full of freckles in summer.

"You're sweet," he said, the warmth of his words melting her like snow in spring, "like.. cotton candy. Or Apfelstrudel."

"Did you just call me a Strudel?"

"It's a dessert," he explained.

"I know it's a dessert, you… bear," she sputtered with her lack of words.

"Is that the best you can do?" He hummed against her lips, laughter barely a breath away.

"No. But it's your fault that my brain stops working."

He rolled partly on top of her again, his scent hitting her like a drug. The stubble scratched her skin, over and over again, as he kissed her, added tongue, sucked her lip, pressed against her like she was dying and he needed to give her mouth-to-mouth CPR asap.

When he withdrew, only an inch, she was breathless again. And he was smiling.

"Could you say it..? Please, just once. That you're my girl," he pressed his forehead on hers, his eyes betraying all the things she had no courage to show. He was many things, but he was certainly not a coward.

"I'm yours, King. I'm your girl."

"And I'm all yours, June."

She closed her eyes, savored those words, relished the feeling of commitment that was completely novel to her.

"When will you head back?"

"I… cannot tell you that."

She wondered how exactly she was supposed to go home with the knowledge that he would be out there in the field, changing mags amidst grenades and bullets.

"Soon."

"I gotta text Kate that I'm staying over. So she won't worry…"

"You'll stay for the night?"

He sounded so delighted. Excited. Like a dog wagging a tail... She wanted to crush him into another hug and cry until she felt raw.

"Yeah, if you change that sheet.”

She got up, walked to get her jacket, groped through the pockets — and her fingers caught to something small and bendy. Magical thinking or not, it felt like fate, and her lips curled into a small smile.

She found her phone, sent a text to Kate, then put it on mute, shoved it back into the pocket, and twiddled the plastic toy for a moment before closing it inside her palm.

When she returned to him, she had to do a double take. He looked so wiped out - so thoroughly drowsy and content - that it made the gold melt and spread inside her like fire.

"I have something for you."

He rose to his elbows, and she crouched beside him, took his hand, and dropped the small, olive-green toy soldier in his palm.

"It's my lucky charm. Had it on me on every mission."

It had a short key chain attached to it. She wondered whether he would tuck it inside his pocket, or if he would keep it on a table beside his bed. Or attach it somewhere, to bring him luck as it had brought to her. Even on that mission when KorTac had taken her as a prisoner. Especially on that mission…

"Can I ask something in return?"

"Anything."

She looked for it, found it on the floor, and picked it up.

"Can I have this?" She held up his black t-shirt and then brought it to her heart, grasping it tightly with two hands like a plush toy. "It smells of you," she explained, although it must've been obvious why she wanted it. The impact of her request on him was a swelling erection that twitched as he watched her, lips pursed tight, brows drawn together. He was blinking rapidly, trying to dry the tears that had started to form.

"Of course you can, Liebling."

"I can wrap myself in you even when you're away."

A miserable little groan escaped him as his lips tightened even more. She placed his shirt down and crawled back to the bed next to him.

"The downside is that it might stop having your scent in it," she pouted a lip, "but you can always bring me a fresh one when you come back, right?"

His sigh was heartbreaking.

"I can't help it, June."

"June, please don't take this the wrong way. I ask this question because you need to address it someday. Now… Is there any part of you that enjoyed it?"

She had thought of him every fucking day for the past 8 months now. She had thought of his hands, his cock, his puppy eyes, and most of all, that sad, abandoned look he gave her right before she turned and left.

"Did you like him?"

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"This is a place where you can safely say whatever is on your mind."

So what if it didn't make any sense? Who the fuck cared anyway?

Fuck it.

Just fuck it.

As if it was going to get any better by not saying it. Nothing could be worse than those months without him.

"You know what… I can't help it either. And I don't wanna take it slow."

---

"You've been kinda up lately."

Zero munched on whatever was on the menu today — König hadn't really paid mind to what it was.

"Leave went well?"

All eyes turned on him, and he was glad of the hood.

If only they knew just how well…

It had been the best leave ever. She hadn't stayed just for one night; she had stayed for three.

They had gone to see a new Marvel movie, and her kisses had tasted of popcorn and lemonade in the dark theatre. Half of the movie rolled past without him noticing what it was about. She had wanted to go to a sushi restaurant after and make him try all kinds of weird rolls — she had practically fed him with her own chopsticks, wanting to see what kind of reaction he had to each bite. They had gone to that pub for another round, and he had made her taste different types of beers, and when they got to pilsner and unfiltered witbier, she had stuck her tongue out and made a face. "You drink piss in Austria?"

They had gone to the gym, and he had taught her how to do a power clean, and she had insisted on staying in front of him when he did squats — for the purpose of giving him a quick kiss every time he did a rep, she informed him. He was supposed to do a series of 8 but ended up doing at least 12 reps, even with all that weight on his back.

He had shown her his favorite scope, detached it for her inspection from the SAKO he had in the safe. She said it was cool, but she knew a few better ones. And then she looked at him with a mischievous grin and said he should be fingering her instead of gun parts.

They had made love several times a day, just unhinged sex, until he felt soft in the head. Sex in the morning and sex in the evening, and sex at night when the other had woken up, too excited to sleep. They had showered together and done it there, too. He had dried her with his towel and carried her back to bed, all wet and giggling and soft and so sweet he had no words for her, neither in German nor English.

They had ordered takeaway on the last night, and he had watched as she ate it straight from the box, wearing only - and only - one of his shirts that looked huge on her. He had eaten her out not shortly after.

She gave him his first blowjob in the hallway of his apartment, just before he had to leave. He had almost missed the plane. Only when he was running to the gates that were already closing had it occurred to him that perhaps that's what she had aimed for.

And when the plane finally took off, he was blanketed by everything she said. That he was an adorable dumbass and her big boy and a gentleman and how good he was in bed, and that she would count the days to when they would see each other again. And that if he got killed, she would come and raise him from the dead and kill him again for daring to leave her.

"Ja, I got that pint. And the… girl."

"König got laid?" Fender nearly choked on his spaghetti.

Zero gave a hearty laugh, and König felt his cheeks grow hot under the mask.

"That's my man!"

He felt a slap on his back and Conor's eyes on him from across the table but didn't care.

They would eventually get interested in the toy soldier attached to his rifle, dangling from a key chain. The token bestowed upon him... her blessing. Physical evidence that she was real and had left with his shirt and now slept in it.

A reminder that he had a home to go back to.

[terminuslucis]

Story time! A little bit about my tiny Silver's family history.

It's a little sad.

From the start, it was clear that little Silver resembled his father the most. Nobody was quite sure where his pale coloring came from, but that was fine. Genetics didn't always make sense.

His parents noticed early on that their son had some sort of magic. Odd things happened around him, and sometimes he laughed at an empty corner of the room. Nobody else in their family had magic, as far as they knew. Then again, there was nobody to ask. Neither of them had parents left. The only family was his father's little sister.

Maybe his gift was why his hair and eyes were so different. Whatever the case, they would figure it out as he got older.

That never happened. Before the child turned three years old, his parents were in an accident. At the time, he was in the care of his aunt.

From her perspective, Silver waved at the door and wandered off to play in his room. A few hours later, she learned that her brother and his wife died. From his perspective, his parents came home and, some time later, his aunt started crying.

As his only living relative, his aunt was determined to look after Silver. It wasn't easy. She changed jobs often, chasing promotions and better schedules, so they moved a lot. Silver lost count of how many schools he went to. He didn't mind moving. There was always someone to play with, and his family was together.

Over time, his aunt realized that Silver was a little odder than she originally thought. It wasn't limited to the dishes moving on their own or his knack for knowing too much. His antics weren't just the rich imagination of a lonely boy. He saw things that she couldn't. He asked about things that shouldn't exist. He talked to her brother.

She tried to let it slide. She hated hearing only one half of a conversation with the only family she had, but Silver still had his parents, in a way...

In a way that she couldn't...

The boy grew up. The older he got, the more he resembled his parents, and the more his aunt hurt. She kept quiet about that. Of course he would look like his parents. It wasn't his fault that she missed them.

Meanwhile, little Silver saw his parents as clear as day. He knew they were dead, and his aunt was sad about that, but death didn't mean much to him. How could death be sad to someone who could look it in the eyes and hold its hand? But, when he mentioned them, sometimes his aunt looked like she wanted to cry.

Slowly, he stopped talking about the things his aunt couldn't see. He also stopped asking about things he heard without her saying them. He didn't want to make her sad. Over time, the gap between how they saw the world widened. His parents' ghosts could do very little to help.

Shortly after Silver started high school, his aunt caught a lucky break. They moved again, but that would be the last time. Silver made friends at his new school and their little family was finally stable.

And so, Silver mentioned his parents for the first time in years.

"Dad wants to say something."

His voice was almost a whisper as he braced for her reaction.

"What is it?" she asked.

"They have to leave soon. He wants to thank you for looking after me." He didn't know why his father said it like that when his parents had always been around, but he was asked to relay those exact words.

His aunt nodded, biting her lip before running to her room. She didn't say a word, but he heard everything regardless.

There was bittersweet relief, knowing her brother was with her for all that time, frustration and doubt as she questioned why Silver stopped talking about them in the first place, anger at herself because she knew it was her fault, and the sorrow of knowing that her family would be gone for good.

Silver had left many people over the last several years. To him, it felt as if his parents were simply the ones moving away this time. Why was it so different for his aunt? Why did his parents' smiles look so sad?

The day his parents' souls left, his aunt cried for the first time in years. Once again, Silver stopped talking about things she couldn't see, but only because they were no longer in the house. It seemed that last "goodbye" had changed things.

No, that was wrong. His parents said "goodbye" because things had already changed. They left because they knew everything would be okay.

[poppy-metal]

friends to lovers with patrick…oh my i have thoughts

you guys both come from rich families, grew up with each other all that good stuff and you are quite literally the only people in your wealthy little bubble who really get each other. highlight of the year is when he comes back from the academy for summer break and holidays. all the time he has he spends with you…of course by the time you’re both teenagers he leaves you every once in a while when a pretty girl he can get with comes along. you’ve known you liked him since you were 10 (this all consuming love that knows you’ll always gravitate towards him) this goes on throughout your teens

He realizes he has feelings for you around the time you’re 17, stupidly when he finally sees you start going out with other people. takes him about a week to fully understand why seeing you with a boyfriend pisses him off…of course when he tells you this, things don’t go as planned (referring to your last post on friends to lovers…like of course youre nervous about this. you love him but if he cheats? god you lose him as a boyfriend and a friend). so you fool around a bit, and while he insists on something more serious, you’re too scared to take the jump

this hurts him of course. hurts him enough that when he leaves that summer in 2006 to go pro, he doesn’t want to keep in contact anymore. yeah it hurts to not respond to your calls or emails, but you broke his heart first? how can he just continue like something is normal. You try to keep track of his life, checking scores, even reaching out to that strawberry blonde boy he brought to your house in the summer before (who doesn’t tell you anything either)

life is so much more boring without your best friend. you try meeting new people all throughout college, spread your wings, but its all so boring. no one is as fun or exciting or loving as patrick. eventually you just give up on the idea he is going to come back to your life, its been four years at this point.

you graduate college and go back to your rich little family. realize he isn’t even in contact with his family, god you really have no connection to this man anymore, the only person you actually love is no longer in contact with you. and quite frankly you’re lonely. so after couple post-grad years of wallowing in your sadness, when your parents start pushing you to get married…it only takes couple weeks for you to agree

everything happens so quickly, meeting the rich prick your parents have picked out, the engagement, god now your wedding is in couple of weeks

are you excited? of course not, you don’t feel anything for this man, but hey there are worse outcomes than becoming a wife to a rich business man. you’re 24 you have the rest of your life to live, at least you can do it knowing you have as much money as possible

so yeah you’re content with the life that you’ve chosen….well that is until patrick mf zweig shows up at your door step after years going “you’re getting married?”

oh well…there goes being content with your husband

-🫀

CHEATING IMMEDIATELY

god, its like. why had he even showed up. you'd been the one to break his heart, you'd grappled with that, stewed with regret over it for years, still did, but he'd been the one to cut you off. to block you on all accounts. so to show up now..... like he'd never left, you're shell shocked. hand over your heart, your engagement ring glinting right there.

its like a full laurie moment. "dont marry him." and you're falling back a step like what, what, you cant say that to me.

but he means it. he'd cut you off but he'd never moved on. and hearing the news of your engagement felt like a wakeup call - like someone threw a bucket of ice water over his head. because he fucking knows you. knows you'd never marry a guy like that - not the girl he knew. and you might have broken his heart, but maybe he should have fought for you harder. maybe he shouldn't have stone walled you. maybe he should have seen you were scared and done everything in his power to prove you were meant to be with him.

its a late start, but he's never been one to quit. he wont give you up again.

[sashisuse]

hm… thinking about childhood best friend!suguru…

you saw him for the first time when you moved away from the city after the unfortunate passing of your parents. your grandmother stuffed you into her car and drove off, taking you to a little town where doves were stuffed into cages so that they may never spread their wings. you are sad and lonely on the day you move in, and right away, you spot a gloomy looking boy your age watching you from the window of your neighbor’s house. despite everything, you smiled and waved at the boy next door. he seemed surprised at first, but he smiled and waved back.

(you don't think you would ever regret smiling at him, no matter where you would wind up twenty years from then.)

you properly meet him only a few days later, when you are looking for a quiet place to sit outside of the house. he is there, too, and you approach him with the same smile you offered him days prior. you introduce yourself to him and ask him for his name.

“geto suguru,” he told you. suguru stared at you for a moment after that, observing you silently. you would come to learn he often did that. “would you like some tea?”

(you don’t think you’ll ever regret accepting his invitation, either.)

in that miserable town filled with miserable people, you and suguru just clicked and stuck together. you two were practically conjoined at the hip, despite the fact that suguru had a reputation for being so strange. you never minded or understood where that came from. you heard from your grandmother, who spoke with suguru’s mother from time to time, that he was just a strange boy. that he made stories up and blamed things on ghosts. that he was unfairly gloomy and difficult to raise. you never understood why people were so mean to him. he was quiet and polite, the best friend you had ever had. you followed him everywhere, and that made you a bit strange, too. but there wasn't a single thing anyone in the world could say that would make you not want to follow suguru around. you would follow him to the end’s of the earth if he asked. he was your best friend, after all, and you were his.

you both could talk for hours and hours about anything and everything. books, movies, tv shows, games, school... you laughed together and played together and that was the way it was. the way it was always supposed to be. you and suguru. suguru and you.

you remember the day everything changed oh, so clearly. the cold weather nipped at your nose while the air felt dry and cold in your lungs. you were trailing a bit behind suguru as you both ventured home from school. he was looking off at something in the forest but quickly diverted his attention away. the action did not go unnoticed and your eyes moved to the forest as well, trying to see what suddenly made his expression sour.

your feet stopped moving the second your eyes laid upon the thing in the woods. it stood out amongst the gray and brown of the cold trees — that strange, ugly beast. it twisted and curved in what should have been an impossible way with seven eyes, each of them oozing some green liquid.

"suguru?"

your fearful cry of his name caught him off guard as you reached forward, grabbing at the sleeve of his sweater. he looked at you in concern. you looked like you want to cry and he hated it. he hated that you looked so fearful, that you sounded so fearful. he wanted nothing more than to make it better, than to fix the problem that he wasn’t even aware of yet.

"what is that thing?" you asked with a quiet whimper.

suguru almost didn’t believe it at first. up until that very moment, he had lived his life hearing that something was wrong with him. something was wrong with him, because he saw things no one else could see. monsters, ghosts, creatures — whatever word you wanted to use. he saw them. his parents never understood. they seemed more disturbed by the fact that suguru never grew out of it, rather than the words he was saying. instead he kept it to himself. he learned to lie about it, so his parents stopped looking at him with such disdain. and at some point, maybe he began to lie to himself. maybe he began to believe that he was driving himself crazy. that he really was just seeing things.

but in that moment? in that moment, when you, his best friend, the one person in the world who had never once looked at him like he was strange or treated him as such, were seeing it, too?

you saw it. you saw it, too. you saw the monster. he’s not crazy.

he was not a liar.

and then, none of it really mattered. not when he snapped back to reality and realized just how scared you were. he couldn’t have that. he couldn’t let that happen. what kind of best friend would he be if he let you hurt like this? you saw them, too, which meant they wouldn't leave you alone like they did most people. they never left suguru alone once they realized he was watching them. so, he decided. he decided that from then on out, suguru would be your protector. because he may be young and he may not fully understand the concept of love, but suguru geto understands that he loves you. he loves you so much that he cannot bear to see you hurting. he loves you enough to decide he will bear it for you, and if he cannot take it all away from you, then he will still be right by your side to bear as much as you will let him.

by the time you are both teenagers, you have both become acutely aware of the things you could each do. magic or perhaps superpowers. you both had your theories, but you couldn’t think of any superhero that had to eat monsters and get sick from the taste of it. you would hold suguru’s hair back as the contents of his last meal threatened to come back up after he had to eat one of those things. suguru would hold you up as your vision blurred and darkened, as your body grew tired from the strange abilities you had. but you did these things to protect one another.

to take care of one another.

[darkinfinity]

Happy 28! Here are all the fics I read and enjoyed this past month!

☁ Call out my name by lesbidirection (E, 101k)

Apparently, it's bad PR to fall in love with the omega you hired to help you through your rut.

Harry Styles begs to differ.

A soulmate AU where two lovers find each other entirly by accident, featuring photoshoots, Gucci suits, too many takeaways, having sex and feeling sad, an alpha who feels lost, and the omega that finds him. It shouldn't be this easy, but it is.

☁ don't be afraid to love (and love again) by @voulezloux (T, 83k)

All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt.

As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s.

Louis is a boy. He knows he is.

or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

☁ Wither & Bloom by @dizzy-pixie17 (E, 65k)

No one knows that legendary Harry Styles is an omega. The record label, the fans, and even his family have no idea, leading to a very isolated and very lonely life for Harry. He knows it's for the best. Otherwise, he'd never have the career he wanted and he contents himself in the knowledge that he's not the only one. But when Harry injures his voice during a performance, his manager hires a new vocal coach to help put him to rights. Cue Louis Tomlinson, the sweetest, sexiest, kindest alpha in the world, stepped right out of Harry's dizziest daydreams. While Louis tries to figure out why there's something so incredibly un-alpha-like about 'Alpha-King of Pop' Harry Styles, Harry is busy trying to control his omega's undeniable urge to throw himself at the object of his infatuation.

Amid an accidental misgendering, getting slick in public, tour bus snuggles with awkward boners, and unprovoked drops, Harry will have to choose whether he wants to keep living a lie for the sake of remaining in the spotlight or if he'll sacrifice everything to be with the man he loves… Assuming Louis ever comes back.

☁ Give me love by @falsegoodnight & @soldouthaz (E, 41k)

Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.

Or, Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

☁ Freeway of love (in a pink Cadillac) by @mizzhydes (E, 33k)

Louis was on his way to Miami to visit an old friend. Harry was going there for a little R&R and take in the sights and sounds. A sudden upgrade in seating brought these polar opposites together. The universe works in mysterious ways and they are unknowingly about to embark on an adventure they will surely remember for a lifetime.

Prompt 107: Sugar daddy AU inspired by this tweet: “going to sit next to the richest looking middle aged man on my flight and scroll through my nudes for three hours straight” with rich daddy Harry and bratty baby Louis

☁ this brokenness inside me might start healing by @loveislarryislove (T, 29k)

Louis grew up in a tiny town, where everyone knew everyone -- or at least, they think they do. Then he left, and became a successful singer-songwriter, a star that everyone in the country knows -- or at least, they think they do.

But when Louis returns home for the birth of his first nibling, he meets a librarian who doesn't know him at all. And that's all Louis could ask for.

☁ Cuddlebug by sun_flowr (Not rated, 19k)

When the call from the adoption agency finally calls, Harry and Louis are surprised to discover that they have been tentatively paired with a young pup named Rami, who suffers from a multitude of issues stemming from the abandonment he’s suffered. But no matter the challenges, they know they will do everything they can to care for and love this pup as if he was their own.

Prompt: a/b/o established relationship where they finally go adopt a child and find a toddler with touch depri/abandonment issues and they build him a nest and comfort him

☁ Stars will align for us by @2tiedships2 (Not rated, 15k)

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis…especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

☁ now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie (T, 5k)

Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all.

This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?

☁ Send me your pillow (the one that you dream on) by fairytalefemme (G, 3k)

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

Short fluffy o/o gaybo drabble with lots of cuddles and softness and sock stealing <3

[shinayashipper]

Puzzleship role-reversal AU following Egyptian boy Atem who transfered schools to Japan because of his father's job. As a son of a busy, high political figure, Atem constantly changes schools and have very little friends aside from Mahad and Mana who are the children of his father's close colleagues. (The other kids also got scared of him because his father is a powerful figure / only attempting to befriend him to gain benefits).

Atem grew up with strict lessons and pressure. Always have to be the best in everything. He always tried to maintain an aloof, cool-headed, always reliable leader persona, but in truth he's very shy and anxious. His only comfort was playing games, but it's very lonely to play alone (and he's not so fond of online games) (Mahad and Mana play with him but Mahad is older and doesn't have time to play childish games with him and Mana has other interests)

Atem had changed schools a lot, but it's the first time he moved overseas. He didn't know anyone in Japan and only spoke the language a limited amount (even tho his lessons back in Egypt always drilled the language into his brain but with no one to talk to it's pretty hard).

He instantly became The Talk at Domino High as "The cute/cool foreign transfer student from Egypt" and he didn't really like the attention. He became closed-off and only interact with his classmates a minimal amount, even tho he had always wanted to make more friends. (Now people thought he got a Mean Look, because of the frown 😂). Anzu was the first person who greeted him in good-faith because she purely wanted to get to know him and make him feel accepted in class (but he always brushed her off too). Jou and Honda are still part of The Delinquents(TM) and Jou just hated Atem's guts because he thought Atem is "snobby little Rich Kid". Kaiba is still Kaiba and he just Doesn't Care much.

One day, Atem got some free time and decided to visit a nearby game store: Kame Game. It's kind-of old and there's more board games and puzzle games instead of the ever-popular digital ones. But this is how Atem loves his games. (And there's always a weekly little tournament where kids can play Card Games against each other. Very Fun!).

When he came in, the store was empty and dark, but the store still has the "Open" sign at the door so Atem just kept going. There sits an open wooden box with silver carvings on one of the small table where kids play. Atem was intrigued to get closer and he saw some... wooden blocks. Maybe a Puzzle? Atem loves solving puzzles. Because this is just left alone on the play table, it means he can try it right? So he tried Solving it...

And as if the Puzzle itself was calling and urging him to Solve it... he's assembling it very smoothly. He can finally see that it's forming some kind of pendant, just a few more blocks but Grandpa Sugoroku suddenly appears and surprised him 😂 Gramps saw him with the Puzzle/Pendant and you know I really like the idea of him Knowing More than he lets on, he told Atem that this Puzzle was an artifact from The Gods' Time and whoever solved it will get a Wish come true. He urged Atem to take it home and solve it in peace. It might help you in some way, he told him.

So Atem brought The Puzzle home, thinking how that grampa was kind of Weird, but he's also intrigued with the Puzzle- so he's going to solve it. And a wish coming true doesn't sound bad at all...

Atem had solved it Perfectly, and it was a pendant. But nothing happens. Ha! What wish... Atem thought it's probably just Sugoroku's attempt to make him come back to the store and buy something. Atem was kind of Sad tho. But nevermind that, he got a new pendant now, so he wear it immediately and went to sleep. (Having strange Dreams about Storms and a boy with white robes and wearing The Pendant Facing Them... but he's not going to dwell with it- he must be Tired)

[eve-was-framed]

okay this is gonna be a bit of a long rant (with some SA and CSA mentions so pls don’t read if that will be too much for you rn) but I’ve been thinking a lot about the “male loneliness epidemic” lately and I have some Thoughts ™

we live in very isolating, depressing and scary times. we live in a hyper-individualistic capitalist hellscape that seems to punish people who need community support. and I truly believe that we as humans should try to help each other out in the ways that we are able to.

but I lose 100% of my empathy for lonely depressed men when they start using their own personal issues as an excuse to peddle ideologies that advocate for rape, pedophilia, child marriage, sexual slavery, and even murder of women and girls. I don’t fucking care how sad you are, if you advocate for other humans beings to be subjected to the cruelest treatment possible then you either need to get serious help or die (and not take anyone with you when you do).

you do not have a fucking paramount on suffering. you are not the only ones who experience loneliness. I know you think women get to just pick and choose whichever romantic partner/friends we want, but that is false, and also being seen as nothing but a sex object by men is so incredibly isolating too. that’s not real love and connection, that’s only being valued for what we can provide for men. so many people feel so alone and it genuinely is a big problem.

I was raised in an extremely misogynistic cult that preaches that grown men are not responsible for anything they do to little girls bc “they’re wired that way.” I had very bad things happen to me before I was even old enough to realize what it meant. and you know what the excuse always is? “well it happened to him when he was younger too so he can’t help that he does it to you.” I learned very early that male suffering is viewed as more important than the suffering they inflict on innocent people. and despite going through this, despite seeing nearly every woman in my life go through something similar, despite all of this, I still would never ever sympathize with any ideology that preaches rape, slavery, sex trafficking, pedophilia, white supremacy, etc. and that doesn’t make me some super hero, it makes me a mildly normal person.

so no, nobody “pushed” you into your evil ideologies, nobody made you do that. if true suffering at the hands of the opposite sex is really the root cause of inceldom then almost every single woman I know would be the most insane incel you’d ever meet in your entire life. but they’re not, even though many of them are lonely and long for true companionship, none of them feel so angry and entitled to it that they want to murder and rape men or little boys. not a single one. the root cause of inceldom is, and always has been, male entitlement. men who were raised to believe the world and every woman in it exists to serve them in some way, but then grew up and realized that actually nobody is owed sex and you don’t get to force women to marry you and have kids, because we are human beings who deserve to be happy too. and this makes them so mad that they start thinking it’s okay to do whatever they want to whoever they want, because after all, nobody on planet earth could ever suffer as much as incels do when a woman tells them no.

I’m fucking sick of it. stop saying “they pushed me to this” and start taking even an ounce of accountability for your deranged, entitled mindset.

[skay-ali]

Magic Tears

I have thought about writing something for eleceed, I like that manhwa, it is sad that there are only a few stories and even fewer with yandere themes.

An idea that has come to mind is that you are a relative of Jiwoo.

They both love each other very much, because they basically grew up together. Being the oldest, you always took care of little Jiwoo.

That made the boy's life less lonely.

You and the little cats were the reason why Jiwoo was always happy, he couldn't lose anymore. Having you as his sister was the best thing he could have and he didn't want anything more.

You were his light, he knew very well that he would not let anyone steal you or turn you off. Imagine that one day while you are planning to visit Jiwoo, you can't find him anywhere, only his cats.

You know a man in a suit who showed up at your house with cat food.

You introduce yourself to him as Jiwoo's relative and he tells you that your brother is very badly injured in a hospital.

You go to the hospital as quickly as possible.

When you manage to get there you run to your brother's room.

And although many of those present in the room, who you assume are Jiwoo's friends, look at you, you decide that it is more important to see your brother than to wait longer to introduce yourself.

You think the looks they give you are simple curiosity.

How stupid you were to think that.

When you got to the room you finally saw the boy who had you worried so much.

Seeing him hurt so badly broke your heart, how could something like that happen to him, it's just a high school boy who hurt him so much.

You stayed by his side for a long time, you cried a lot, you let your tears flow endlessly, you couldn't make them stop, your heart hurt and the bad thoughts about what could happen to Jiwoo weren't helpful.

Imagine that during your time of depression with your brother, a tall, black-haired man appears, who introduces himself as Jiwoo's teacher.

No matter the politeness at that moment, you barely saw the man and followed the boy closely.

Even if the man tried to calm you down out of compassion when he saw you cry, you couldn't stop.

You didn't know that at that time such an action from the man was strange on his part.

He knew it himself, he would never do something like that, maybe it was the fact that you are a relative of his student, or the fact that he noticed Jiwoo's adoration for you, or because he couldn't bear to see you crying, something strange woke up. in it.

But there was something that you didn't notice in your time shedding tears, these drops fell on the boy lying on the stretcher.

The salty, transparent tears turned golden for a moment and entered the boy's body.

You didn't know it at the time but that made the boy finally open his eyes due to the relief of the pain he felt

And what he found when his eyes opened and distorted what he was looking at with the light.

To his guardian angel, his older sister who was always by his side when he needed it, the person he could never afford to lose.

I tried it yes!!! It's not that there are many eleceed fics, plus I need more ideas for this and more plot to cook the story and the obsessive characters well.

I just wanted to do a story from another fandom

I think it's said like that???

[wlwprker]

my heart is yours-tom!peter parker x reader

a/n: i wrote this on my old tumblr for someone else but i’m making it Peter Parker and reuploading it !

warnings: minimal proofreading, use of bold and italics, sorry for grammar and/or spelling mistakes!

wc: 787

You were a pretty calm person, but there were those rare moments that crept into your life where you found it extremely difficult to stay relaxed and it bothered you that you couldn't just stay...calm. You always felt like such a burden to others when those overwhelming moments ruined your days, nights, and weeks, but your boyfriend didn't care if you were sad or angry, he will always love you and you are so thankful to have been blessed with the gift that is Peter Parker (AKA the one and only Spiderman), who you get to call yours. He patrols the city at night and is sometimes taken away on missions, but that doesn't make you upset or too lonely because you know that he always has a home with you.

Today was one of those days where you couldn't stay chilled out and you tried everything to stop your overwhelming thoughts from crashing into you like a freight train and all you kept trying to do was to keep your emotions at bay because the last thing you wanted to do was disrupt Peter on one of his rare off days from his patrolling duties but he notices every little thing you do. Peter sat down next to you on the couch in your shared apartment and he motioned for you to lie down in his lap because he adored looking down at you and basking in the warmth of you.

When you look at him with those eyes that hold so much affection behind them, he feels as if he's falling all over again, and he doesn't want to stop falling.

"Baby, what's running through that pretty little mind of yours?" Peter rubbed his hands soothingly up and down your shoulders as you looked up at him in adoration and he smiled as he placed a loving kiss to your forehead and you swore that you felt like a teenager in love, you were never the type of person to believe in clichés but when he looks at you like there's nothing more important in the world, you felt as if you were floating and you had no intention of wanting to come back down to Earth. You smiled to yourself at the fact he was always so loving and caring and if he ever sensed that there was something wrong, he would drop everything for you. You always have to convince him when he's away on missions that his Spiderman duties are important but if you didn't keep reminding him of that, he would move mountains just to see you smile.

"I'm just having one of those days, Peter", you say as you sit up from his lap and Peter whines at the loss of contact, but you scoot closer to him on the couch, and he wraps an arm protectively around you. He hums in content, and you lean your head on his shoulder, and you can feel his heart beating, only for you.

"I love you so much, my love", Peter says in such a sweet tone that you swore you physically felt your heart beat faster for him, if that was even possible. You place a sweet kiss on his lips and he smiles into the kiss and you pull away slowly and this boy can't stop staring at you because he is so lucky that you love him this much. You have kissed Peter so many times but every single kiss that you share feels like you're sharing a kiss with the prince in those fairytales you grew up reading, he is your happy ending. You find one of his hands and bring it close to you and you start to trace the lines on his palm as you feel him rub his hands down your arms.

"I like tracing the lines in your palm, it's...distracting", you say as you plant gentle kisses on the lines in Peter's palm and you can feel him staring at you as you continue to trace the lines in his palm that fits into your hands like a glove and you stare up at him and he is looking at you with the most loving stare in the entire world.

"You are a dream come true. I'm going to ask for your hand in marriage, what do you think about that?" Peter kissed your nose and you sighed happily. You are so in love with this brown eyed beauty and you never want it to stop.

"That sounds perfect, Pete" you felt yourself start to drift off into the world of dreams, but your dreams were insignificant because all you ever dreamed about was holding you close on the couch, and everything felt okay again.