#he'd have such a hard time tearing himself away from his own reflection and the sun would get him

[toxicanonymity]

Stepdad!joel stepdad!joel stepdad!joel stepdad!joel stepdad!joel 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

Amazon 📦

2700, stepdad!Joel x f!reader. Stepdad Master List

New: BONUS SNAPCHATS, and one more (what if)

Ty for always ID-ing stepdad in the wild @gracieispunk including this pic ILYSM!!

SUMMARY: You give Joel the cold shoulder. He's sad and horny and finds a way to get your attention with a gift. He snapchats you a lot. A/N: Shout-out to @scratchietella (cum ask). WARNINGS: I8+, POV alternates twice, jacking off, stepcest, degradation, angst, reflection on cheating, a bit of whump and a hint of reader dacryphilia. Joel comes a lot (7x or so?), and I spelled it the short way for disambiguation.  NO use of Y/N. 

After you let Joel give you head, he thinks he’s back in your good graces despite cheating with your mom. But as soon as Joel leaves your room, you must be putting on your clothes. Because within less than a minute, you call Jacques on your way downstairs-–in earshot–to apologize on Joel's behalf for rushing him out.  

Joel follows you downstairs, but your Mom is on her way in.  You go out the front door, and when your Mom walks in from the garage, Joel is standing at the kitchen with his hair all messed up from running his hands through it in distress.  He doesn’t know if you’re going to Jacques’s, back to your apartment, or out, but he doesn’t like it. Joel knows he has no right to tell you anything, but that doesn’t stop him from calling you.  You don’t answer.  

Your Mom isn’t home for long.  She goes right back out, at which point Joel goes straight to his dresser to retrieve both pairs of your panties: The pair you gagged him with after he gave you a ride home, and the pair you stuffed in his pocket in the kitchen on Thanksgiving. The ones from the car are already ruined by his own cum, but the ones from Thanksgiving are all you. 

Joel lies on the bed and lubes up his cock, still hard from eating you out.  He puts on his glasses and looks at the screenshots he took of you before he knew Snapchat was telling on him. He whimpers as he strokes himself.

After a minute of looking at your scandalous photos, he feels pathetic for clinging to such a tiny morsel of you when he needs it all. He tosses his phone aside, closes his eyes, and smothers his face with your panties as he strokes himself.  He takes in deep breaths and he grunts and moans into them, and his hips involuntarily flex like his fist might as well be you. 

For the thousandth time, he imagines putting an end to his misery by just fucking your shit up.  Busting in your door, grabbing you by the throat slamming you against the wall.  Shoving his tongue down your throat and his hand between your legs. Tearing your clothes off as you whimper his name. Then taking you to bed, only so he can put you on your back and spread you wide open.

He'd memorize the folds of your dripping cunt as it twitches and begs for his tongue. Flip you over and shove himself in without warning, making you mewl as his girth splits you in two. Pounding you. Spanking you. Yeahh, just railing into your needy whore cunt as you whimper under him.  He sees your face screwing up as he cums inside you with a harsh grunt, finally giving you what you wanted all this time, a cunt full of his load.  

Cut to his own fist full of it on his bed. As he lies there breathing, the shame sets in. Not only the stepcest shame, but also the knowledge that he'd never have the balls to do any of that. It’s barely believable enough to get off to.  And then the guilt sets in – the guilt of what he did, how he fucked things up with you.  He feels guiltier about this than he felt for cheating on your Mom. He feels like he cheated on you. 

He puts away the evidence and washes his hands. Then he stares at your text convo. He has to figure out how to make things right. 

You don't respond to a single text or snap for the next week or so, and you don’t come back to the house either. Joel feels even more desperate. He’d do anything, if he only knew what might help.  He needs something to get your attention. He doesn’t sleep with your Mom, and your Mom doesn’t care. She doesn’t even bring it up. He’s pretty sure she’s having an affair anyway. Brazenly.  For her to confront Joel about his lack of interest would be to risk Joel confronting her about the affair. Joel isn't sure if it’s physical or just emotional, but it doesn’t matter much. He’s over it. 

Joel thinks about you at night and wonders if you think about him, too. He envisions what you might look like, thinking of him.  He imagines you with your spine arched, toy between your legs, closing your eyes, just soaking your sheets as you sigh his name. One night, he’s picturing this, really choking his cock.  He groans then sighs as he cums into his fist.  And then, when he’s recovering from his climax, that’s when it hits him.  How to get your attention. 

—---------

You’re lying on the couch watching TV.  You’re distracted.  Joel’s outreach has been ambiguous so far.  He hasn’t said anything about your mom. He hasn’t begged for pictures, much less for another chance. He’s only begged for forgiveness, over text.  You haven’t opened his snapchats because you don't want to be reminded about what he did.  You don’t want a serious talk or a lecture or god forbid details.  You don’t even want a sincere apology, unless it’s in the interest of fucking you.  

You get a notification that you have a package at the leasing office and sigh in exasperation that you have to make the trip there when it's probably not even yours. You aren't expecting anything, but sure enough, it has your name on it. 

It’s a vibrator.  Your heart races when you read the gift message. “Thinking of you. A lot. I’m sorry. J.” Unwanted butterflies swarm in your chest and you try to bat them away. He even included an extra pack of batteries.  How. . . thoughtful. Smart, too, because if it were rechargeable, you’d never plug it in.  It would feel like an admission of forgiveness. But since it’s battery-operated, you can just pull the battery tab as soon as you get horny. And of course you do. You lay on the sofa where you and Joel hooked up before and you take the toy for a spin. His ploy is working, you’re thinking of him, and you’re too horny to care.

You finally open his snapchats. They're a mix of horny and pathetic videos. They start off horny, just showing you a bulge in his pants or he's jacking off with your panties.  

Video: Then something non-sexual. A closeup where he’s just looking at you with messy hair, puppy dog eyes, and dark circles. “Talk to me. Yell at me, I don’t care. I'll take anything.” 

Video: Then horny. Palming himself over his joggers.  Whining your name in a whisper.  “Please.” His desperation turns you on. 

Video: A sad one the same night. He's sweating, looking like a little more of a mess, forehead glistening, catching his breath. "Don't throw this away." He breathes for a few more seconds.

Video: Another sad one another day where he doesn’t really say anything but his face says it all.  He looks awful, as if he’s not sleeping. Red eyelids, might have been crying.  He starts to say something, “I—” he takes a deep breath. Then he shakes his head, looks up and it cuts off. 

Video: A horny one that must have been the same night. He looks the same, but his reddened eyes look hungry. His lips are parted and he's taking in a shaky breath with his arm moving slowly off screen. "I just miss you." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He turns the camera down where his clothed erection sticking straight up in his joggers, just jutting into the air. His hand pushes it down and he slowly grabs it.

You leave his snaps on "seen," not even beginning to reply. Then a few minutes later he sends a new one.  A minute after that, another one.  You leave those unseen for the time being.

—------------

Joel sees you open the old snaps. That's progress, he thinks, and boldly assumes you open them when you’re horny. When he starts to second guess that assumption, he gets self conscious and thinks it might be for the better that you don’t open the last two snaps. They might have been too much. . .

Video: He’s sitting in his office chair in front of a full length mirror. He’s manspreading and his joggers are hugging him in a way that emphasizes his bulge.  His big, veiny hand is slowly rubbing his inner thigh, getting closer and closer to where he desperately wants your touch. He says, “Ya know,” (deep breath) “I should be doin’ that for you.” Then he palms his arousal and says, “Ahh, fuck it.”  

Video: A few minutes later, he’s slouched down in the chair.  His T-shirt is pulled up well over his  belly button and his hand around his cock. After just a few wet strokes, he sighs loudly as he cums all over his abdomen.  It’s a lot of cum, like six or seven ropes. Then his stomach rises and falls with heavy breaths for a few seconds before he ends the video. 

He’s grateful for the glimmer of hope but still beating himself up.  He doesn’t know what to do. He’s not even sure what you want. At times, it feels like a losing battle. He’s not even sure what you feel.  At some point he thought he knew, on some level. He thought you both knew, the moment you kissed, it felt like there was something electric neither of you could articulate but both of you knew.

It felt more than skin deep, but he couldn’t say where it went within either of you.  He still can’t say. It’s not like you were in love. Certainly not batting eyelashes at each other or making future plans. Half the time you were bickering.  But there was something there.  Even if it was only physical, it was deep in your bones and something made it electric. 

The further it gets from that moment, the more he wonders what you ever wanted. Is he your play thing? Do you get off on torturing him? Did you genuinely enjoy chatting with him?  Do you get off on sneaking around or would you be into him if you knew each other a different way? 

He pushes those thoughts away and keeps coming back to the physical spark between you. The hunger in your eyes.  Your persistence.  He wants both of you to take a leap of faith–not into a relationship–but a leap backward to the beginning.  This all burned down and needs to be rebuilt from the ground up.  If he lets it cool and builds it right, maybe it can become something better.  Abstaining from other people feels like a good start. He can’t think about whether you’re seeing anyone else or it keeps him up at night. 

—-----

The next day, you’re horny again.  You get comfortable and turn on your new toy. You tell yourself opening his snaps doesn’t mean anything.  You don’t have to respond.   It won’t have any effect on you.  But when you watch those two in his office, and oh, God. It takes you no time flat to cum, and cum hard.  You don’t say anything back to him. He texts you, “did you like that?” and you don’t respond.  He continues, “if not i’ll stop, sorry. Lmk.” You don’t let him know anything at all. You stay radio silent. 

Over the next couple of weeks, he keeps snapchatting you.  Even if you don’t open it that night, he knows you might go on a spree and open several in a row, probably when you’re using his gift. 

Video: It’s a computer screen with your insta pulled up.  He’s at the desk in his bedroom, the one where you found him jacking off to your pictures a few of months ago. He points the camera down at his lap and he’s wearing gray boxer briefs you didn’t know he had.  You see the very clear outline of his hard cock atop his thigh, straining to burst out of them.  “See what ya do to me.” He runs his hand down it with a low sigh.

Video: A few minutes later, selfie mode, breathing heavily.  Hand wrapped around his shiny cock, stiff and swollen.  He fists himself at a beat that’s becoming as irregular as his ragged breaths. He grunts as he thrusts into his hand.  “Oh, fuck—oh—-ohhh fuck, I–nngg–” He devolves into a groan as he erupts in his hand. It shoots back toward the camera. It takes a good thirty seconds of him moaning and sighing and catching his breath before he’s finally done emptying his balls. 

Video: He’s on his bed, rear camera facing his lap.  cock and his hand gliding wetly up and down it.   “I can’t believe. . .” (heavy breathing) “-oh, fuck—I–I can’t --I can't believe,” (moan) “I ever turned you down.” (long, drawn out orgasmic groan). 

Photo: Close-up of his lap with a boner.  His hand resting at his groin. His hand has no business being that hot.  Caption: How’s silicone joel treating you.”  You roll your eyes and begrudgingly smile just a little as you use the silicone joel and quickly tap for the next snap. 

Video: He’s in the office again, standing in front of the full length mirror. He’s in boxer briefs and his thighs swell out from them. No shirt.  He pans so you can see him head to toe, shirtless. Then he relaxes back in the chair, manspreading. The snap ends and it cuts to the next one.

Video: Now he’s breathing fast, stroking his raging erection feverishly in the next one “Ohh-nng-Oh–God–Fu–” (moan) “Fffuuuck” (loud, low sigh).  Stringy white ropes rocket onto his abdomen as he shudders loudly and strokes himself slower. You rewatch this one multiple times and count seven real ropes before it’s just gurgle. Seven.

You think about getting your ipad out and taking a video of this one for later use, but you accidentally tap for next. By now, he's completely unashamed.

Video: He’s in his car. You can only see his lap, and the ample bulge in his joggers. “Had to pull over.” He scoots the seat back, rubs himself slowly, breathing heavily. “Just thinkin’ about” (low sigh) “the way you came all over my mouth” He pulls his waistband down, spits on his cock, then sighs loudly. That snap ends, and in the next one--

Video: He's just cumming–really hard. It’s his fist around his cock.  “Oh, fuck,” (a gasp, then a soft, ragged groan)  “Fu–” he cuts himself off with a long sigh as he cums into a t-shirt.  You can’t see the cum but know it’s a lot.  You see his cock twitch and his hips lift as he sighs again. 

Photo: His big, masculine hand is holding a peach. Caption: Every fkn thing reminds me of you. 

All this time, you’re still not responding. Not so much as a thumbs up or sweating emoji. But you keep watching them, day after day, until  one day, he doesn’t send any.  You use the toy and just think about him, envisioning his videos, and replaying your encounters. You don’t just think about him jacking off, you think about him crying, too, and that turns you on just as much. You picture him crying and jacking off and you cum instantly. Then you feel kinda bad.

In your post-nut clarity, that’s when you realize you’re pretty much ready to move on from it.  Because you start to worry. Maybe he’s had enough of the games. Maybe he’s given up. Maybe you shouldn’t have punished him like this. It was fucked up, so fucked up, but the memory will fade. You detached enough in the moment that it's not that vivid to begin with.

Joel is married. He’s always been married. That's why he was always saying no. They kissed in front of you days before. Instead of insisting on a conversation, within sixty seconds you were putting your panties in his pocket. Then you made a pass at him, and he got you off on the kitchen counter.  Then you kissed.

That kiss. It was so loaded. Packed full of tension and potential. A glimpse of what could be had. There's no doubt in your mind the sex would be explosive.

If Joel hasn’t given up, maybe this interlude got you a little closer to what you want, somehow.  There's only one way to find out.

—-----

BONUS SNAPCHATS

the silicone Joel

STEPDAD MASTER LIST - Fandango has the most advanced smut

—-----

THANK YOU for reading and engaging. Your reblogs and comments mean so much to me, and I love when I start to see new “regulars.” It’s so exciting really. Love you guys 💙💙💙

Special shoutout to stepdad’s lawyer @milla-frenchy for expert counsel!

A/N: Based on a) people wanting her to hold out on him longer (which is what this was) and b) what i want to do on vacation, I think the vacation is going to have to be after Christmas. 

FAQ: I’m not planning on pursuing the jacques/cheatbacks storyline rn, you can HC that however you want as for what she did that night (if anything).  Don’t really wanna address the mom situation more, and probably won’t answer plot Qs. That way maybe you'll get the next story sooner --- I’m kinda trying to make this easier to write so it won’t take so much deliberation and weighing opposing inputs lol.

TBH it was supposed to just be sexy, smutty, scandalous, “we shouldn’t be doing this” PWP and it kinda got away from me.  But I at least wanted to give a little insight into Joel’s POV with this  one. 

Now back to the agenda: [cock, baby!.gif ].

-------

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All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea@evyiione@xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious@chernayawidow@ambassadortotrilliusprime@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@jasminespringtime @romanarose@fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore@blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires@taeslarityy@str84pedro@lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy@fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine@worhols@fan-fiction-floozy@cutesyscreenname  @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl@feministfanboi@gracieispunk@prettypartyfavor@am-3-thyst@babeincolor@milla-frenchy@switchbladedreamz@within-the-depths@am-3-thyst@may-machin@pedromania91 @sloanexx@paleidiot

[jubileemon]

Explaining Huskerdust slowburn

Huskerdust is one of the most popular ships within the Hazbin Hotel fandom, which started with their first interaction in the pilot.

From the outset, Angel Dust shows a clear attraction towards Husk, which is evident from his immediate flirtatious behavior upon Husk's arrival as the hotel's bartender. This attraction is not subtle as Angel Dust is overt in his advances, often pushing boundaries. On the other hand, Husk was initially dismissive and annoyed by Angel's flirtations, responding with expletives and a general attitude of disinterest. Yet, this sets the stage for a relationship that promises to evolve slowly over time.

Although they started off bad, with Husk often finding great irritation in Angel's continued advances, their relationship would begin to deepen as the series progresses.

In the beginning, Husk made it no secret that he was forced to stay at the hotel because of his ties to Alastor and would gladly get as far away as he could if able to. He's addicted to gambling, much the same way Angel is addicted to drugs and sex. He used to be an Overlord but gambled away his bound souls until he got desperate enough to sell his own soul to Alastor.

While his words were poorly timed, pushing Angel's buttons after he'd just suffered a night of abuse from Valentino in "Masquerade", it's hard to deny that Husk is right to be frustrated with Angel's sexual harassment. He's cuttingly accurate when he points out how Angel's lewd and carefree behavior is all a self-destructive act that he hides behind to avoid his problems, and that nobody in the Hotel is particularly impressed with or taken by the front he puts up.

In the episode "Masquerade", a pivotal moment occurs when Husk rescues Angel from a potentially dangerous situation at a club that shows a protective side under his gruff exterior. Afterwards, Husk continues to remind Angel that he can stop his act. However, Angel, shedding tears and expressing his sadness, lashes out at Husk as they argue, explaining he needs to be who he is in order to break himself, both to wash away his misery and escape Valentino.

Saddened by this, Husk helps Angel recognize the parallel misery, which led to them both admitting their regrets and Husk revealing his past as an Overlord to Angel.

Husk getting through to Angel Dust in the manner he does makes a considerable amount of sense when it's taken into account that the first step to overcoming drug addiction is usually getting the addict to acknowledge they even have a problem. Angel hasn't been able to get better despite having some genuine interest because he's been utterly refusing to admit he has a problem to fix, the moment he does his mood drastically improves as does his motivation.

The song 'Loser, Baby' became an uplifting melody for Husk and Angel Dust's relationship. It encapsulates the message that while they may see themselves as losers, they aren't alone in their struggles.

The whole song is just "Stop thinking you're special". Some people may see that as a bad message (at first) considering what Angel goes through, but like him, staying in that mindset of "No one knows what I'm going through, no one else knows what it's like to be me, etc." would not be good for him at all as it would create a barrier of isolation. To be clear, the point is that Husk calls Angel a loser because people, especially very hurt people, need to break their cycle of self-loathing somehow. And sometimes, sometimes, people need to hear that they are, in fact, a loser. But that's okay because a lot of other people are too. This is even reflected in the song, with Angel initially assuming Husk is mocking him, but eventually picking up what he's actually saying. The message isn't "You're not special lmao," it's actually "You're not alone in this, and embracing that is a big step in getting out of it."

A small detail many fans have noticed is that whilst Valentino is very forceful with Angel Dust both emotionally and physically, during the song “Loser, Baby,” Husk is never seen grabbing Angel Dust at all during the song, only ever offering his hand out for him to accept. It's apparent that Husk is expressing more interest in Angel Dust, after seeing that he isn't as shallow as he comes off to be. Since then, Angel and Husk have formed a special bond through being vulnerable and honest with each other. But this scene also shows Husk's concern for Angel's well-being, especially when it comes to drugs and a potential relapse.

In the episode "Welcome to Heaven", Cherri invites Angel and Husk along with Niffty and Sir Pentious to a bar. During this scene, Cherri tries to motivate Angel to take drugs as a way to relieve stress. Husk reminded Angel it would destroy his progress. Husk then admits that Angel succumbing to drugs would really disappoint him. Angel declines the offer, making Husk smile, but later starts heavily drinking, something Husk disapproves of.

This concern is reciprocated when Angel Dust takes care of a drunk Niffty, suggesting a shift from his earlier, more self-centered behavior. The confrontation with Valentino, where Husk is ready to defend Angel Dust, further cements their bond.

Angel was very attracted to Husk and didn't hide it, with his constant boundary pushing flirtation. After being called out for this behavior, Angel not only begins a genuine bond with the cat demon but also stops the annoying, aggressive flirtation.

As they were preparing to fight the exorcists, Husk unconsciously makes a sex comment saying that "Angels won't stop coming", and Angel laughs at this remark. Husk realizes the double meaning of it, and laughs admitting his mistake.

During the bar scene in "The Show Must Go On" an instrumental of "Loser, Baby" plays in the background during Angel and Husks' conversation, which further underscores the hidden depths of their bond. Angel takes Charlie's words to heart about living however you want that night since it may be your last. How does he choose to do it? By simply having a drink with Husk and Cherri Bomb. Husk even notes that he's changed quite a lot since he came to the hotel.

Also, the way he looks at Husk and the little piano reprise of "Loser, Baby" playing in the background. Angel's feelings for him may run deeper than they seem... 😍

[beeperis]

if only

warnings; discussions of death, grief, angst pairing; old man! logan x reader reuploaded from my ao3!

Your fingers glanced over the pages, turning to the next. Before you was another familiar illustration, this time of the white rabbit. Of course, you knew what was next. You were barely even reading from the pages anymore. It was easier at this point to recite from memory, you thought.

Your voice was that of a classical piano to Logan. In his eyes, you were a magnificent storyteller, even if he'd never say that out loud to protect his masculinity. What little masculinity he had left at least--from lying in his bed, coughing up blood and wheezing--was sacred. You didn't deserve to see him in that state.

You'd been reading him one of your favorite books, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, ever since the doctor told him he didn't have much longer. Looking into your eyes was so hard; he couldn't stand how much hope was in them. It felt like it was killing him faster.

Though a nonreligious man, Logan prayed he wouldn't die before you could finish the story. For your sake.

"...when suddenly, a white rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her." There came your voice again. So sweet with a melody unaware of what was to come. He held back another rattling cough as to not interrupt your fantasy.

You must have heard his wheezing breaths, because you stopped. It was a rather uncomfortable quiet, so Logan broke it. "Why'd you quit?" He rasped out. Looking over at you instead of at the ceiling, slivers of moonlight from the window reflected off fresh tears from your cheeks. "Oh, no. None of that, angel."

With a voice much shakier than before, you resumed from the paragraph you stopped at. "In another moment, down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out of it." Even on the verge of tears, you were still so pleasant to listen to.

Logan never much cared for reading. In his older age he'd adapted to a quieter, more serene life, but never once had he thought to pick up a book such as the one you were reading now. Come to think of it, he was a toddler when the story was written.

But in that moment, he found himself paying attention to the characters. You reminded him of Alice. Always in your own world, so full of hope in a hopeless situation, so eager to pursue what cannot be pursued. He saw himself as the white rabbit. Mainly because he was running away from time, and managed to catch your eye during the 200-year-long flee.

"I wish we could stay on this page," you murmured sadly. Noticing you'd stopped reading again, Logan perked up. "Why?" You brought your knees to your chest to hug them. "I don't know, it's stupid. Maybe the longer I read to you, the longer you'll be around to hear it," you paused to sniffle, "I can't imagine not having you to read to."

If he wasn't already dying, that would've killed him on the spot. Logan took a deep breath through battered lungs. "You gotta. Books don't just stop because you want them to. They need an ending, and it's there regardless of how long you wait on one page." His words sounded harsher than he'd intended, but he couldn't bear the thought of you lingering on him and never finishing your story.

As soon as he saw your lip quivering, he wondered if he should've kept his mouth shut. Still, he pulled you into one of the tightest hugs his fleeting strength would allow. The wetness of your tears were like thousands of needles in his heart. Logan patted your back softly, listening as you seemed to be crying yourself to sleep. "G'night. You know I'll always love you." Quieter, he whispered, "that's the only part of the ending that won't change."

[nykuna]

REFLECTIONS

pairing : gojo satoru x fem reader

cw : angst, hurt and comfort, breakup

synopsis : After dumping you by message about a week ago, you received a surprising message from Satoru telling you to come to his house in the middle of the night. He wants to talk.

jjk alternate universe : no jujutsu sorcerers, everyone is human

disclaimer : This is a spinoff from my fanfiction : the irony of fate (sukuna x reader).

Satoru sighed and leaned back on his bed, waiting impatiently for you to arrive. He had texted you, saying there was something important he needed to talk about...and that it couldn’t wait till morning.

“Damn…hope she comes soon…”

~

Lying in bed, he stared blankly at the ceiling. He hadn't received a reply from you, and he'd been waiting for you for a few hours now. He presses his hand to his forehead, wondering why he thought you'd come. Deep down, everyone around him eventually tires of him when he shows himself to be vulnerable, he felt foolish for having thought it would be different this time.

He needed to get some fresh air; he'd never allowed himself to be carried away by his emotions since he was a child, however hard they were to bear.

He headed for the bathroom, determined to go out for a drive and try as best he could to take his mind off things. He let himself be submerged in the almost boiling water, as if he wanted to drown all thoughts that were detracting from his fun-loving image.

But tonight, it was just too much to bear. What he felt for you was truly powerful and unknown to him, and he blamed himself for ruining it for his stupid responsibilities. A tear escaped his eyes, mingling with the scalding water of the shower, fortunately no one saw him like this.

Lost in thought, he was startled by the sound of a notification on his phone as he stepped out of the shower in a hurry, hoping to see your name on the screen.

Instead, it was Sukuna's. Damn.

[kuna] : They’re here.

Oh, what an emotional elevator. Without wasting a single second, he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, still soaking wet, and rushed downstairs.

From the top of the stairs, he couldn't help but crack a smile, seeing you there on the doorstep, lit only by the pale light of the moon. You looked magnificent, he thought.

Doing his best to maintain his self-assured facade, he joined you and your friend in the living room.

"You could at least have put on a tshirt, don't you think?" Her friend says with a disgusted laugh, you says nothing.

"I wanted to impress y/n but obviously I failed...I'm glad you guys came!" He said cheerfully.

"Why did you want us to come anyway?" You ask, trying to be indifferent but it's no easy task facing Satoru.

"Well, I wanted to talk, I really want to clear things up y/n." He said, sounding much more serious.

"So...What am I doing here?" Her friend asks, a little embarrassed.

"I told Sukuna I was inviting y/n, and he told me to invite you to hang out." Satoru replies simply.

"That's not weird at all..." You says mockingly.

"And how are we supposed to hang out if he...isn't here?" She asks, confused.

"Don't worry, he's changing. Y/n, shall we go upstairs?" Satoru asks, holding out his hand to you.

Your eyes widen slightly and your cheeks turn a light shade of red as you watches Satoru approach you, wearing nothing but a towel. You swallow yet again and looks down at his hand for a moment before taking it and allowing him to lead you upstairs.

You settle on his bed, while he quickly went to the bathroom to put on a simple white teeshirt and the most basic gray jogging pants. His hair was streaming down his forehead, but he couldn't care less, he had no time to lose.

As you settled comfortably onto his bed, you couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable with the entire situation. Why had he brought you here in the middle of the night?

You waited for him to return and your eyes widened once again when he emerged from the bathroom with his hair damp and hanging in front of his eyes. Seeing him dressed so casually, you couldn't help but find him extremely attractive.

"Why did you want to see me?" You ask, doing your best to hide the red that was rising to your cheeks.

He walks over and sits down next to you, a serious expression on his face. He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it out of his face as he spoke.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about." He said, staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze.

"Does it have anything to do with how you dumped me like shit and then acted like nothing happened at your party?" You asked, your tone snarling. You felt tears welling up in your eyes just thinking about it, but you couldn't cry just yet.

Satoru froze, his eyes widening slightly as he heard the harshness in your tone. He knew that you would be mad at him, but he didn’t know you would be THIS mad. He knew he deserved it though.

"Yeah...it does."

He said quietly, finally looking up at you and meeting your gaze. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he saw the sadness in your eyes.

"I...I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I didn’t really had a choice."

"And why is that? I'm sure you could have done it differently, couldn't you?" You raise your voice, surely carried away by frustration.

Satoru gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, feeling a sense of shame and guilt wash over him. You were right, he could have done it differently. He could have been kinder.

"I know, okay? I know I could have done it differently. But...but I didn't..."

He said, his voice quiet. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking again.

"Look, you have to understand that my life isn't normal. I have obligations and responsibilities that you can't understand."

"Oh that's right I can't understand shit, maybe if one day you explained it to me I could understand." You hissed. "If you have so much responsibility, why did you let me fall for you...it's just…really cruel."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. He hated seeing you like this.

"You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to fall for you, to lead you on when I know I can’t give you what you need? It was never supposed to go this far. But I couldn’t help it. You were just so...perfect."

He said, looking at you with a hint of pain in his eyes. He felt like he had hurt you way too much, and it killed him inside.

You didn't say anything for a while, you hadn't seen it that way, but it didn't matter. You'd fallen in love, and now you were being thrown out like an old sock.

Satoru sat quietly, watching you as you processed what he had said. He could see the pain and hurt in your eyes, and it made his chest ache. He felt like he had been such an idiot.

"Look, the reason I brought you here tonight is...well, I just..."

He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. He wanted to tell you how he had been feeling these past few days, how he had missed you like crazy. But he didn’t know how to say it without hurting you further.

"Hmm?" You said in a low voice, your eyes riveted to the ground.

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage to speak.

"I've been thinking...about everything. About us. About how I ended things."

He paused, staring intently at you. He wanted you to look at him, to see the sincerity in his eyes.

"And...I miss you. I miss you so damn much. Spending time with you, talking with you, kissing you..."

He took your silence as a sign to continue.

Your eyes finally met his, and you lost yourself in his magnificent bluish irises, but you knew that deep down, you were doomed.

"But..." you huffed, anticipating what was coming next.

Satoru saw the hurt and uncertainty in your eyes, and his heart ached. He hated what he was about to say, but he knew he had to be honest with you. There was no other way.

"But I can't give you what you need. I can't give you normalcy. I can't give you stability. My life...my job...they won't allow it." He said, his voice quiet and filled with regret.

"For fuck’s sake do you think I'm a fucking child to need so much stability? I'm tougher than I look, and a couple of boxing matches aren't going to intimidate me." You scream, letting tears overwhelm you.

His eyes widen as he sees your tears, and his heart breaks for hurting you so much.

"I know you can handle yourself. I know you're stronger than you look, and that's what I...I like about you. But it's not just about that, it's..."

He trailed off, struggling to find the right words. He wanted to tell you the truth, everything about him that he kept hidden, but he was scared of your reaction.

"Just get to the damn point." You snapped at him.

He winced at your tone, but he knew he deserved it. He took a deep breath and gathered all his courage before speaking up.

"Y/n...there's just so much you don't know about me. About my life. And it's something I can never tell you. It's a secret that could endanger you and everything I care about."

He paused, gauging your reaction.

"You know, maybe if you put your trust in someone someday, it might really make you feel better." you sigh as you stand up. "I really wish you could have confided in me, but too bad, I must have gotten the wrong idea." You say as you head for the door.

Satoru's heart sinks as he watches you stand up and head out. He reaches out to grab your wrist, gripping it gently.

"Y/n, wait..." He was desperate, he couldn't let you leave like this.

"What now?!" You exclaim as you turns back to him, trying to free yourself from his grip.

He doesn't let go of your wrist, instead pulling you back towards him so you’re standing directly in front of him.

"Please...don't go. Just...stay here with me, okay? Just for tonight..." He pleaded, his expression filled with a mix of desperation and vulnerability.

As if waking from a bad dream, you took a moment to observe Satoru, it was the first time you'd seen him so vulnerable, and you couldn't help but feel genuinely worried.

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the concern in your eyes. He had never shown this side of himself to anyone before, and seeing you worry for him made his chest ache.

"I'll stay. I'll stay with you tonight." You say quietly, your voice filled with a mixture of relief and nervousness.

Satoru felt a weight lift off his shoulders as you agreed to stay. He took a step closer to you, his eyes fixed on yours as he spoke again.

"Thank you y/n, sincerely."

He gently guided you back to the edge of the bed, sitting down next to you but keeping a slight distance between the both of you.

"I wish everything could have been different." You said as you collapsed into bed, your gaze blank.

His heart ached as he watched you, seeing the sadness and exhaustion etched on your face. He longed to pull you into his arms and comfort you, but he knew he had no right to do so anymore.

"I wish it could have been different too." He said softly, his own expression mirroring your own sadness.

"Can you take me in your arms one last time? Because even though I'd prefer it to be different, I would never ask you to change." You say simply, planting your gaze in Satoru's.

His breath hitched in his throat as you asked him to hold you. His heart wanted to say yes, to pull you into his arms and hold you close, but his mind screamed at him to push you away.

But looking into your eyes, seeing the sadness and vulnerability in them, he knew he couldn't deny your request.

"Are you sure? I...I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"The damage has already been done, what we had is precious to me, I don't want it to end in tears and screams." You whisper.

His chest tightens with guilt as he hears your words. He knows he has hurt you, and there is no denying that fact.

He hesitates for a moment, his mind and heart at war with each other, before finally giving in to his heart.

"Come here." He said softly, holding out his arms to you.

You snuggle into his arms. And your eyes seek out Satoru's piercing blue gaze.

Satoru's arms instinctively wrap around you, holding you close to him. He feels a sense of comfort and warmth wash over him as you nuzzle into his chest, and it takes all his self-control not to bury his face in your hair and hold you even tighter.

He looks down at you, his eyes locking with yours. He wonders if this is the last time he'll ever have you in his arms like this, and the thought makes him feel suddenly and unexpectedly vulnerable.

You were too close to the stars, he never knew somebody like you, somebody falling just as hard.

If you enjoyed this one-shot or want more context, here's the link to the full fanfiction!

With love, Nyc <3

[mustainegf]

reader is insecure about her appearance and Jase comforts her :')

FIRST JASON FICCCC!!!!!

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ¹⁹⁸⁷

I watched him across the room, his back to me, scribbling down notes on a scrap of paper he'd found on the coffee table. Jason was lost in his own head, humming a bit to himself, tapping his fingers on his knee. That was Jason for you, dedicated. I loved it so much, but a part of me couldn't help but sometimes wonder how someone like that could have ever fallen for someone like me.

I turned away from him to look at my reflection in the mirror, and I caught sight of the small curve of my stomach, the way my thighs touched, how I never seemed to look like the girls in magazines.

The rational part of my mind could recognize that I was being too hard on myself, but at that moment, another voice inside me had almost grown comfortable to tearing myself apart. I let out a sigh that was a little too loud, and he must have heard it, because the next thing I knew, there Jason was right beside me, his hand on my back.

"What're you thinking?" he asked, his voice low and soft, as it was only when it was just us. His calloused fingers slid along my arm, warm and comforting.

"Nothing. Just…" I replied, though my voice cracked, belying me. He narrowed his eyes slightly, seeming to see through me. Jason would sometimes have this weird feeling for things, like he could tell the storm brewing in my head when I hadn't even said anything.

He spun me round to face him properly, his hands coming to rest on my arms. "I don't buy that for a second," he said, his lips twitching in a little smile. But his eyes held that softness that always melted my heart. "C'mon, what's bothering you?

I bit my lip, looking down. "I just...I don't know. I was looking at myself, and I guess I just don't feel good about how I look right now. It sounds stupid I know, but it gets to me."

Jason was silent for a moment, just easing his hands down to take mine. His thumbs circled over my palms in gentle arcs, soothing me, anchoring me. "Hey," he whispered, leaning his head down to look at me. "Listen, it's not stupid. It's real and I get it. But it's also not true. Not even close... you know that right?"

I shrugged, feeling my throat well up into a lump. "You're just saying that because you're nice, Jase. I mean look at the girls around you all of the time, the ones at your shows, the ones in the magazines. They're perfect. I just… I don't measure up."

He shook his head, and I could almost see the sad tinge in his eyes. "Those girls?" He waved his hand like he was shooing the very idea away. "They're not even real, babe. Half of 'em are pretending, the other half don't even know what they're getting into. And anyway, that's not what I want. You're what I want.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he leaned in closer, his forehead pressing softly against mine. "I know you're not seeing what I'm seeing," he said softly. "You're kind, and funny, and smart, and you're beautiful. And when I'm with you, that's what matters."

My face grew hot, and I couldn't force away the tiniest smile, though I knew I wanted to stick to my skepticism. "You make it sound so easy, Jason."

"That's 'cause it is." He chuckled, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "I'm not saying this 'cause I think it's what you need to hear. I'm saying it because it's the truth. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that's the first thing I think every time I wake up next to you."

My cheeks flamed red, but his words picked at the lump in my chest until it slowly unwound. "I wouldn't trade you for anyone. Not those girls, not anything in the world."

Jason wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and I buried my face in his chest, letting myself just feel his heartbeat steady and strong against me.

He leaned back just far enough to cradle my face between his palms, his eyes delving into mine. "You're perfect to me. Every fuckin' inch, every curve, every part of you that you think is to big or too small. And even if you can't see it yet, I'm here to remind you, every single day if that's what it takes."

My throat constricted, but this time it wasn't from the insecurity. It was something else altogether, something warm. I nodded, burrowing my head against his shoulder as the words soaked into me like a sponge.

Jason didn't let go. He just kept holding me, and for a long time, we stood there wrapped up in each other.

[lexirosewrites]

if you were thinking we'd get through a slick sunday without me sending something sad, you're wrong. oops.

cw for some tough topics, including drug addiction, domestic violence, and probably some other stuff that i can't think of right now, with a dose of mpreg bc who would i be if i didn't include that.

so i'm currently thinking of an idea i've been playing around with for a good while now. omega!steve x alpha!eddie.

eddie, who had a tough childhood. both his parents were addicts. his dad was abusive. he'd been exposed to drugs basically straight from the womb. it quickly developed into an addiction of his own. after his mother died, and his father went to prison, eddie moved in with wayne. wayne tried really hard to get his nephew clean, but he could only do so much. eddie spent the next several years microdosing just to keep it manageable. it wasn't until he and steve started dancing around each other that eddie was finally determined to get 100% clean.

it wasn't easy. in fact, it was one of the hardest things eddie ever did. but he had a lot of support, more than he ever had in his life, and after just over a year of ups and downs, eddie finally got his 90 day chip. the very next week, he and steve started courting.

everything is going so well. until it's not.

eddie is acting weird, and steve notices almost immediately. he tries to talk to eddie, figure out what's going on. he's certain eddie is using again, or at least really wants to, and he wants to help him. but eddie isn't himself. he's irritable, easily frustrated, and that's exactly what happens when steve tries to broach the subject. it ends with steve's back hitting the wall, and not in a good way.

eddie immediately apologizes, promising it'll never happen again. he's done. he doesn't want to lose steve, and he'll do whatever it takes to keep him. steve believes him, sees the regret in his eyes. they make it work. they're happy. they have a good life. but good things can't last forever.

steve gets pregnant, and eddie pretty much instantly freaks out. he keeps a cool face for steve (doesn't want to worry him and put any more stress on him than he's already got) but internally, he's not doing well. he's terrified he's going to fuck everything up and turn out exactly like his dad, an abusive addict who only causes his family pain. and eddie has always had really bad coping skills. no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he doesn't want to, he goes back to using again. it starts with alcohol, but it escalates quickly. his sobriety is down the drain in no time. he starts coming home later, sleeps on the couch most nights under the guise of not wanting to wake steve. he disappears at odd hours with some excuse or another ready on the tip of his tongue the moment steve asks. steve is rightfully suspicious, and finally decides he needs to know the truth.

he pushes. there's an argument, and steve pushes too hard because he's worried about eddie. he's worried that he's using again, and he just wants to know the truth. he knows they can get through it, if only eddie would just talk to him. but he pushes too hard, and eddie snaps. steve's cheek stings as the sharp smack echoes through the living room. eddie stands in silent shock, his hand still raised, eyes wide as if he didn't know that was going to happen. and maybe he didn't. all steve knows is that he can't stay. he doesn't yell. just murmurs a quiet, "okay." and walks away. he locks himself in the bathroom for several minutes, staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror. puffy, bloodshot eyes, tear tracks on his cheeks, and a bright red mark where eddie's hand made contact. outside the door, eddie is knocking and pleading with steve. apologies tumbling from his lips like a prayer.

all steve can think about, though, as he stares at his reflection, is his own mother. how she always stayed, no matter how mean his dad got. how she always forgave him. never left. not once.

steve cannot stand to be like his mother. he won't do it. he has a pup to think about too.

so he quietly packs a bag and leaves. eddie watches from the doorway, knowing there's nothing he can do to stop this. nothing he can possible say or do will make steve stay. all he can do is watch, and hope that steve comes back.

robin is out of town for work, so steve only has one other place to go. he goes to wayne's new apartment, and hesitates before knocking on the door. wayne is eddie's uncle. steve knows wayne loves him just as much as he loves eddie, but he doesn't know how this is going to go. he's scared, and his whole body seems to be moving on autopilot as his brain floats in and out. but wayne opens the door, instantly looking worried and ushering him inside. steve curls up on the couch with a blanket around his shoulders, and he doesn't say a word. all he's said since wayne opened the door was asking if he could stay there for a little while. wayne has no idea what's going on, but he knows in his gut it can't be good.

only minutes after steve arrives, the phone rings. wayne debates on whether or not to answer, sure that nothing could possibly be more important than comforting steve, but steve insists he answers. he knows it's likely eddie. he doesn't want to keep wayne from his nephew. he still loves eddie, despite what's happened. so wayne answers the phone, and sure enough, eddie is instantly babbling through his tears on the other end of the line. it doesn't take wayne long to piece together at least a vague idea of what's happened. he knows steve is upset, and eddie is clearly an apologetic mess about something. he knows his nephew messed up, but he doesn't yet know how. until eddie finally says the words. and wayne is pissed. he simply tells eddie they'll talk about it later and hangs up.

he refuses to enable his nephew's abuse, especially with steve being as pregnant as he is. he loves eddie, but he will not tolerate his actions. he will choose to protect steve and his grandpup every time, because wayne saved eddie from an abusive household, and he will not let eddie repeat that cycle with his own family.

-

i could talk about this idea for HOURS, but this is already long enough, so i'll stop it there. i have so much thought out and plotted for this, even tho i've barely even thought about actually writing it. i could just go on and on. maybe i'll send more thoughts for a future slick sunday, who knows 🤷‍♀️

anyway happy slick sunday lex :)

(i hope you're not too upset about more sad steddie content, because at this point, that's about all my brain thinks about when i'm preparing for slick sunday. maybe i'll find some happy thoughts to share too. mix it up. we'll see)

no… it’s fine. i’ll just curl up into a ball for a while🥲

[storiesabouteli]

Hi! Loved your most recent story! I was thinking maybe you could write one where the reader struggles with acne and Eli makes her feel not insecure? 💕

Hope you are well!

Heey, thank you for requesting! I hope you like that one too!!

Words: 1,6K

You followed a certain logic in your mind, choosing comfortable clothes. You'd wrapped socks around your hair to make sure it looked nice, hoping it would draw attention away from your face—or maybe even from your own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Everything felt exhausting, almost pointless. Your face was freshly washed, the marks and small stinging spots seemed more noticeable. You spent a long time staring at yourself, wondering what to do—they were worse than the day before. You took care of your skin, wanting the blemishes to disappear, not to worsen suddenly, leaving scars behind.

You covered them with foundation and concealer, did your eyeliner to make your eyes more noticeable, but then leaned against the wall, disliking the texture of your skin, wanting to just stay there. You and Eli were supposed to meet Ryan and his girlfriend, trying out a new restaurant, something casual and fun, but you knew your mind wouldn’t let you feel at ease.

“You okay? Something happened?” Eli's voice was sweet, as if he hadn’t been waiting for you to get ready for almost an hour.

“I’ll be out soon, sorry.” You could hear him breathing behind the closed door, his feet shuffling against the floor.

“Need anything? I can run to the pharmacy for you, just tell me what you need.” His thick accent, full of concern, made you smile, an honest contrast to how you felt. You held the doorknob, hesitating for a few seconds, and then remembered Eli was your boyfriend—he would understand.

“No, I’m okay, El.” You whispered, opening the door to face him. He was wearing a tight band tee, showing off his arms, jeans with a belt, and his hair slicked back. He looked adorable, which made you feel even worse about the fact that he'd dressed up, only for you to now not want to go. It also seemed unfair that he'd be going out with you. You closed your eyes quickly, pushing those thoughts down as hard as you could. You hated being like this.

“You look beautiful, pumpkin. I can get dressed up more if you give me a few seconds.” That was the thing—Eli was just being himself, effortless, while you had tried so hard. He didn’t move, and the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, though you felt uneasy in your own skin. Tears welled up in your eyes, and he stepped into the bathroom with you. He looked around before his gaze settled on you. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, then he smiled softly, trying to show he was there for you.

“I can tell something’s bothering you, but I’m not sure what.”

All the beauty products—makeup, skincare solutions—were scattered across the sink. You often wondered how Eli saw this side of you. Some people could be insensitive about it, and although Eli wasn’t like that, you couldn’t help but think about it. You looked down at your feet, swallowing your words, not liking the idea of verbalizing this to him.

“Can I stay? I thought maybe you could go without me. I’m just not feeling up for it.” He frowned, thinking, still looking cute. It felt like you were a kid asking to skip school without a good reason.

“We don’t have to go.” He stepped closer, gently holding your face, trying to read you. His concern and calmness were so kind.

“But you should go—you look so handsome.” He chuckled softly.

“So do you, but what’s the point of going without my girl?” You crinkled your nose, embarrassed at how goofy he could be. He hesitated, about to brush his fingers across your cheek, but you flinched. Instead, he placed his hands on your shoulders, still wanting to keep you close, like that might ease your feelings. Your eyes drifted away from his, and that’s when he realized you weren’t avoiding him—you were hiding your face. He pulled you into a hug, and you pressed your face against his chest as he held you tight.

“I’ll let them know, it’s okay.” His lips brushed the top of your head as a wave of relief washed over you.

Eli held your waist as you sat on the counter in front of him. Your mind was somewhat blank, relieved to be staying in, but it still felt wrong. You were distant while Eli's voice echoed in the bathroom, talking to Ryan on the phone. He said he wasn’t feeling well, throwing in a sarcastic remark about you being his caregiver, which made you chuckle despite your sour mood.

“We could cook something nice, watch a movie, or just do nothing for the rest of the night. What do you think, huh?” You nodded, your eyes lifting to meet his, only to quickly look away. He kept his gaze on you.

"Sounds good, El."

Your shoulders were slumped, and Eli felt uneasy, unsure how to help. "I need to take off my makeup. You can get changed; I’ll do the same, and then we can cook something." You said this, imagining how you'd end up with your face pressed to his chest, transferring all the makeup onto his shirt. Either that, or you'd insist on hiding yourself with concealer the whole time.

"Can I?" Eli asked, his waist brushing against your knees as he reached for the makeup wipes you had grabbed earlier. You let out a long sigh and nodded. "My skin's irritated. It’s really flared up."

Your voice was barely audible, as if preparing him for the reality. “You know, I’ve seen your face plenty of times before,” he said softly, his warm, caramel eyes as tender as always as he carefully wiped your makeup away. “What do you think about them?” you asked quietly, handing him a small amber bottle. Speaking about it in code, adding a certain distance, helped make it easier to handle.

He paused, his shoulders heavy as if unsure how to put his thoughts into words. “I don’t really think about them like that,” he said thoughtfully, “They’re a part of you, so I like them.”

He applied the product to your cheeks with his fingers, lightly squeezing them, making you close your eyes and giggle at the way his thick fingers and rings felt against your skin. “How do you see yourself?” he asked hesitantly, not wanting you to speak poorly about yourself.

“I don’t know,” you swallowed, swinging your legs around him. “Now that they’re worse, I feel…”

He noticed your eyes divert once again, a sadness creeping into them. “It’s okay,” he gently lifted your chin, making you look at him. He kissed each cheek, the bridge of your nose, and then your forehead, lingering for a moment as his kisses echoed with soft pops.

You often feared Eli might find you unattractive at times, but his tenderness shattered that doubt. “I met you like this, remember? I thought you were beautiful then, and nothing’s changed. I won’t let you believe otherwise.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. You didn’t know what to say, but Eli had already brightened your day. You wanted to be enveloped by him, as if he were a cocoon.

You nodded silently, letting him apply a few more drops of product to your face. He massaged it in the way he had seen you do many times before, and it was endearing how he had memorized your routine just from watching. “What’s this for?”

“It’s an aloe vera gel; it helps calm my skin.”

His brow arched as he read the label. “Okay. And those stickers? What are they for? And the other tubes?”

You laughed, feeling a bit lighter now. Eli’s muscles relaxed, pleased to see you holding eye contact with him again. Things were looking up; everything would be fine. “I use vitamin C sometimes to fade spots,” you explained. The wrinkle in his forehead smoothed out as if it all made sense now. “And I just try to keep my skin hydrated.”

You handed him a pack of star-shaped pimple patches, and he glanced at the pile, you got slightly embarrassed by how many you had. “These dry out pimples—like the pus and stuff. But mostly, they stop me from picking at them.”

He seemed satisfied with the explanation. The patch you handed him was shaped like golden stars. “Do you still have the pink heart ones? I think you look adorable when you wear those.”

Your cheeks warmed. It was a bit jarring to realize that Eli was fully aware of your blemishes, yet he viewed them as just another part of you, while you treated them like monsters. "You like them?" You gave him the chosen patches, though the question was more a confirmation for yourself than for him.

“I do have a favorite, but yeah, I like the others too. It’s cute when you walk around the house with them on your face.” You laughed, guiding his hand as he placed the patches in random spots rather than directly on the pimples.

You peeled one off and stuck it on his cheek. He smiled, leaning in to kiss you on your lips, lingering a little longer. The tip of his nose gently brushes against yours into softness.“I’ll go change into something more comfortable and head downstairs.” You tied your hair up, abandoning any formality that might’ve lingered.

Eli nodded, removing his shirt and unbuckling his belt. You glanced over, eyes lingering on his shoulders and tattoo. He chuckled through his nose, “Okay, go get changed, little one. I’m starving.”

[valleyofroses]

Tell it to my heart

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

Summery : Rest dearest, for today you did your best.

Chracters : Dromleaders

Content warnings : hurt/comfort, overthinking, mentions of war and death, Neglect, depression, feeling of being lost, grief

a/n : oh dear I took my sweet time writing this.

𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡

Riddle knows better than anyone. He knows how hard it is to be so exhausted, yet have no one to talk to about it. He can never forget the pain he had to go through, the tears he shed in silence in fear of his mother. And when he sees that look on your face, he knows what's happening. Riddle doesn't want you to go through that. It was such a horrible experience for him, and you don't deserve that. You need a well deserved rest and Riddle is going to make sure you get it.

Yet there is this tiny problem. Riddle doesn't know how to do it. What do you like to do? Do you like talking a walk through the maze? Or do you need some alone time? Riddle just keeps thinking and thinking until Trey tells him to take it easy, maybe he could invite you to an unbirthday party? He wonders, if a cake and some tea would help you feel better. After giving it alot of thought he decides that it's better than nothing. Even if it makes you feel a little bit better, that's enough for him.

He takes care of everything. He even bakes the cake himself, with a little help from Trey. After everything, he takes a look at the sky, it looks so pretty to him. He also sends everyone away so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

When it's finally time Riddle sees the way your expression ease, and it truly cheers him up. The rest of the day is such a great experience. The sweet smell of the tea, the delicious piece of cake on a beautiful plate, the weather and mostly your eyes, makes him lose his mind. Whenever he takes a look at you he could see his own reflection in you eyes and he gets lost in them. Riddle is truly happy when he watches you smile and he wishes this moment could last forever.

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑎 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑟

Leona, tried so hard to be a king, only to fail miserably. He knows how it feels. He knows how it feels to try so hard and fail every time, and it awakes a horrible feeling inside him when he sees that look on your face. Defeated. Crushed. Hopeless. His heart start beating so fast that he'd feel as if it's about to burst out of his chest.

One night, when he realizes that you're not going to stop pushing yourself, Leona takes you to an abandoned place so you two can be alone. It's almost like a dream, the fluffy clouds that look like cotton candy, the blue color of sky, the feeling of wind between your hair, the trees that look a thousand year old with their roots scattered all over the garden, the colorful flowers and fresh plants. When you settle down, Leona takes your hands into his and looks at the water, he was never good at comforting anyone, he just hopes that whatever's going to happen, won't make it worse, the last thing he wants is to add another burden.

At the last minute Leona changes his mind and decides to just hug you tight. His hug is welcoming, it's loving and warm, just like home. When your tears start to fall he hugs you even tighter. He knows how strong you are, that you eventually get through these days, and he'll be there to accompany you. And he'll always stay by your side.

𝐴𝑧𝑢𝑙 𝐴𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑜

It's weird isn't it? Is it pain? Is it fear? You just can't get it right. The feeling that follows you like a shadow after every decision you make, it grabs your shoulder and whispers in your ear how irrational and pathetic you words a choices were. You can't escape it, you can mever escape this feeling. You can only pull yourself back together, be more wary of things you say and actions you take.

Azul can sense it, something is wrong but he can't quite pinpoint what. You've changed, the way you force yourself to laugh, the way you spend less time with those you held dear to your heart. On the outside you seem...fine, it even looks like you've found more friends! But that is on the outside, but behind the curtains, Azul can clearly see how you're slowly falling apart, pulling away so you won't get hurt again.

At first Azul can't help but wonder why, but after a few fays he begins to understand that the answer to that question wouldn't be of any help to you. But the question is what will? Should he talk about it? Whould he give you some advice on the matter?

Azul decides that the best option is to take a day off so you two can go visit the town together. It's almost like fairy tales. The sight of the colorful flowers, the magical taste of the cakes and sweets,the memories and dreams shared between the two lover and the color of the sky just before sunset.

At the end of the day, it's not the same as it was, but for once you feel like you can lean on someone, you feel like you don't have to do it on your own. For once it feels like Love.

𝐾𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑚 𝐴𝑙 𝐴𝑠𝑖𝑚

Whenever Kalim looks at you, he feels like he is looking at stars. Shinning bright amongst the darkest of nights, full of life, showing the way to those who lost their way. But there has been a change in the night sky these days, it seems as if the light of the shining star is being taken away by the darkness, as if dark clouds are surrounding the light that shows the path of life.

Kalim knows that the dark clouds won't go away easily, but that doesn't stop him from trying. He makes you take off a whole week and takes you out to show you the bakeries and sweets of every city. Going out with Kalim means shopping from the moment the sun rises until sunset. Trying on different clothes, tasting different sweets, drinking a bit of every smoothie that is out there. The movie marathons, every kind of game.

Kalim loves seeing the smile that brightens his world. He loves to see you so carefree like it's just the two of you in the world, like nothing could seperate you two.

At the end of the week Kalim gets a scolding from Jamil. Yet it was worth it. Oh it was so worth seeing his beloved smile so brightly. Kalim never regrets his time with you, the feeling of loving and being loved was so worth it.

𝑉𝑖𝑙 𝑆𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑡

It's scary. The way that life works is scary. Every decision you make, every choice, every single move, every single word, people watch everything, their eyes will fllow you everywhere and no matter how hard you try, how hard you work, eventually when you make the smallest mistake, the world will come crashing down. Yet despite all this, Vil found love in your arms. He learned that it's okay to make a mistake, it's okay to not be perfect all the time, it's okay to slip up sometimes, he learns that it's okay to be a human.

So why? Why are you torturing yourself now? Why do you blame yourself for such insignificant things? Are you different from him? Why is he allowed to make mistakes but you're not? Wake up, eat breakfast, get ready for classes, get good grades, go home, study,eat, sleep. It hurts Vil to see a precious soul, his precious soul, do that to themselves. Vil can't help but think if he caused all of this. If he caused you to think you’re not enough, that you’re not perfect, that you’re not good, that you need to be better. It hurts him so deeply, all he wants is for those he love is to shine like they deserve to.

One day after classes, Vil invites you to his room and he doesn't take no for an answer not matter how much you remind him of his busy schedule. When your lover finally get the chance to be alone with you, he hugs you from behind and holds you close to himself. His hugs feels like home, feels like it's okay even if it's for a second. His hugs keep you broken pieces together. As soon as the hug ends Vil gets his skincare products. He just hopes that it can make you feel better. Vil loses himself in the progress, he just can't help but caress your cheeks and stare into those beautiful eyes.

After you're done with the skincare, you two lay in bed hugging eachother tight. Vil knows how sensitive this can be for some people, so he tries to take it slow. He encourages you to talk about yourself , how your day went. And when you talk to him about your day, about how hard today was, about how you barely managed to get through, he finally breaks down. When you see tears roll down his beautiful face, you lose control too. You hold eachother tight, mumbling promises to eachother, and you know that from now on you'll be fine. Because You two have eachother.

𝐼𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑆ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑

It's not that you are feeling tired, it's just that you don't feel anything. Is what you're doing alot? You run around all day, to the headmage office, to attend the classes on time, run back to your dorm as soon as the classes are over, sit behind your desk and complete you work. Isn't that how life is?

Idia always wonders how you manage to do that. Don't you get tired? Don't you feel like a robot? Completing the same tasks day after day? You can see his gaze lingering on you for a little longer than usual.

It's unusual seeing Idia outside his room, but there he is standing next to infront of ramshackle with Ortho by his side. Ortho hugs you without a warning and the next thing you know is that you all are in Idia's room. You try explaining that you have to go back to ramshackle in order to complete your tasks but none of them listen. All they offer you is that they need another player so they can complete their game.

Idia's room is so cozy. It's has a nice vibe, it feels like you could get lost in it. As you take the controller in your hand, hoping to finish the game soon to go back to your dorm. But this game is just... so colorful? Everything is so bright and pretty. It wouldn't hurt to play a little right? After some time you realize that it's amazing. The story makes you feel so alive it makes you feel like you have a choice, a choice to be happy. It continues to make you feel mixed emotions, bringing out that smile and excitement that Idia has longed to see for so long.

It awakes a foreign feeling in his chest. It's like watching spring bring life to the world. Seeing you and Ortho together, happy, smiling, makes him truly happy. Maybe he could invite you for another game session.

𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑢𝑠 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜��𝑖𝑎

Malleus is familiar with this feeling, the feeling that constantly tells you that you don't belong here, you're not meant to be here,you're not wanted nor needed here. Malleus can see that in your face, your bright eyes full of stars staring at the pictures carrying many memories, the way your hand caresses things that you hold dear to your heart so gently. Yet he can't imagine the storm that is inside you mind.

What is it telling you? How is it torturing you? It is telling you that you don't belong here? That you don't belong anywhere? That you'll always be a pitiful one looking for a place to love and be loved? How can the world be so cruel? So cruel to those with the purest hearts? To people whom longed for nothing but a little bit of love?

Malleus had been a watcher for such a long time. He's seen many wars, many people who has suffered in silence, many who died in hopes of peace, many who died without the chance of being loved, many who grieved their lost ones and regretted their actions. But this time Malleus realizes something, he doesn't want to watch as these things happen to him, he doesn't want to watch as these things happen to you. He wants to do something, he wants to prevent that cursed fate that everyone suffers from.

It's feels refreshing and almost cute how Malleus comes to you with sparkly eyes and a proud smile on his face, and without a word he takes your hand and teleports both of you to... a ruin? It's shocking but refreshing. Malleus doesn't let go of your hand as he guides you through the abandoned castle. The castle looks so old yet somehow it looks so lively. As you pass halls and rooms Malleus explains about the history of the castle, how a traveler fell from the sky, how he scared he was, how he pushed through all the hardships, how he lost many thing and how he found friends along the way, how he made memories and earned himself a place in the foreign land. It's amazing...your heart is racing, you're feeling alive after such a long time. You look at Malleus who's busy telling you other stories with a light in his eyes. And in that moment you truly feel happy like nothing can hurt you, like no matter what you'll be fine. As you squeeze Malleus' hand you think to yourself, you finally found home. Malleus doesn't let it show, but he is excited as well. He too has found himself a home.

[madschiavelique]

⚝﹒𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬﹒⚝

⚝﹒author's note : just wanted to write a soft thing about frank meeting a dreamy reader and being in love

⚝﹒contents warning : mentions of blood, death (frank's past), mostly fluff though, afab reader, no use of y/n

⚝﹒word count : 1768

When you live in a world where nightmares haunt you, it’s hard to find the time to chase after your dreams.

They tormented Frank, these ghosts of the past. The dead, the deaths that piled up like an ugly heap, a scarlet stack of glassy eyes bleached white by the lack of a soul.

Their warm, sticky blood stuck to his fingers. No matter how many times he washed them, how hard he scrubbed his own skin, how hot he turned the water on; he would never feel clean. 

All those times he came home, covered in the coppery smell of carmine liquid, he waited for the shower like a saving goddess. She would take him in her hot arms, the steam enveloping him in that reassuring mist like a mother's embrace.

The water cuddled him, caressing his body drop by drop, leaving a crimson river running down his skin and escaping into the black hole of the tub.

She reassured him, whispering in his ear the sweet words that could come from the pearls of purity and insouciance. But there were times where she'd come down on him like a storm.

And when he lay there, in his miserable bed, and the pouring rain came beating against the glass of his window, he couldn't sleep. 

Because when you've learnt Morse code and used it enough times in your life to read it, write it, listen to it and understand it, even the rain screams at you to run.

He had lived a life, and he had taken more of them than he would live again later in the meanders of time. Would he ever find the strength to forgive himself? He had already found it, somewhere, somehow.

Would he ever find someone to forgive him?

This thought sometimes kept him awake. He usually came home exhausted, worn out by a day that had taken him through so many emotions and feelings that he wondered if that single day hadn't lasted a whole year. 

Once he was clean, he'd collapse onto his bed and, far too tired to think, let himself drift off into the darkness of the night to the jars of stars that dreams shine in.

But nothing was bright. No lights, no candle with a flame the size of an almond barely illuminating you a room, not even a flickering firefly gently flying under the weight of its glow.

Nothing. The pitch black of the night, the black of his thoughts, the black of his title.

He was trying to rebuild his life, to leave all this evil behind, no matter how tenaciously it clung to him like his shadow. 

Was it only his shadow, or was his reflection a part of the loathing ? Every vision he had of himself was distorted by the depth of his actions. 

He had lost count of the times when facing his own gaze seemed harder than any fight, harder than being shouted at for something stupid, harder than staring into the sun for too long.

When other people's eyes met his, did they have any idea of the weight they carried? Of what those eyes had seen, of what those eyes had cried, of how those eyes turned all black and devoid of light when he clutched the grip of his guns.

Who would want to look into eyes as black as the room he went to bed in every night?

Life swept into his path the most pleasant devil he had ever met. His circle of friends gradually dwindled down to his own. But he didn't give himself any hope that it would last.

When you're used to losing, you expect everything to be taken from you without asking. You expect your hopes to melt away like snowflakes in the palm of your hand. But you'd have to believe that his heart was cold enough to prevent them from turning into tears from the heavens.

It was thanks to Matt that he had met you. It was no secret that Frank was an avid reader, as if reading what literature had to offer would revive the dead that the words on paper exposed to him.

So Matt had recommended a bookshop where, according to him, he could find a wide variety of books. At first Frank thought that the demon was sending him into a den of other fools who read the criminal and civil codes day and night as if their lives depended on it.

But the latter quickly confirmed that there would be someone there to help him. He didn't have much to lose, and when the time came to read a new book, he went there. He had no high expectations, it was a bookshop like any other.

There was nothing special about it. It had a window displaying the major releases of late, the familiar smell of book paper wafting through the air, and shelves full of intriguing covers.

But it had you.

Knees bent to the ground, arched towards the floor as you pointed to a page of a book a child was holding in his tiny hands, your eyes sparkling as you explained something he couldn't hear.

You hid your mouth for a moment, leaning over to whisper a secret to the child, and the little boy laughed softly as you lowered your fingers from your lips to let your smile shine through. 

All the secrets in the world that interested him seemed to be held by you alone.

You straightened up, letting the child read quietly, turning to Frank with that same smile adoring your lips.

"May I help you?"

Frank had forgotten how to speak for a moment, but his wits quickly pushed him to start talking and not look like a moron with his mouth half-open in a fish-like fashion.

He told you what he liked, and with an unconscious charm that made him feel as if he were suffocating, you guided him to the first shelf, summarising the synopsis of a book for him with mad, bewitching simplicity.

Then, feigning dissatisfaction when you'd hit the nail on the head, he asked you if you had anything else to suggest.

Then came the second book, which he had already read. Then the next, which seemed too close to another. Then another. And then another. Until he couldn't come up with any more excuses he searched at every turn of shelves to hear you talk and spend any time in your presence.

When it came to the checkout and you handed him the book, your fingers touched for a moment as you wished him a good day.

He thought about it every evening that followed.

As the days passed, a rhythm settled in. He would finish a recommended book, come and see you, find premeditated ways of spending as much time as possible in the bookshop, and leave with another novel.

One day he plucked up the courage to buy you a coffee, and he thought his heart would burst when you accepted. Coffee led to lunch, lunch led to dinner, and dinner led to a bottle of wine at home.

And even when your flesh intertwined, your voices became whispers, and your lips kissed, he never had any doubts :

You were everything, and he was nothing.

He had lived with the idea of being nothing for a long time, had become accustomed to the thought, had become almost attached to it. Nothing is always alone, otherwise it wouldn't be nothing. So what was he now that he had a glimpse of you in his life?

It was one night, in his dark bedroom, as you sat on his bed facing him, that his thoughts glowed.

You had leaned over him and kissed his forehead so tenderly that he felt fragile beneath your fingers. You gazed into his eyes, as if no matter how deep they were, you weren't afraid of what you were about to find.

There was a moment of silence, a moment of darkness, a moment of nothing. Fear buzzed in his ears for the first time in a long time.

She won't choose me, because if I were in her place, I wouldn't choose myself. That's what he thought. He thought that you had seen in his eyes what people call "void", a farewell to every "goodbye", and that you were going to take time in the oceans to drown his despair.

He was petrified at the thought of you leaving. Until you told him: 

"You've forgotten how to dream, haven't you ?" your whisper and your gaze came in a wave as your thumb stroked the frown of his forehead to loosen it, "It's been ripped away from you," you whispered as your eyes met Frank's.  "Hasn't it ?"

And you... you looked at him as if there was something in him worth looking at.

You saw in him what he couldn't see anymore, half skinned like a piano key, between the living and the lived.

He took you in his arms, pressing your body against his as if you were the frailest thing he had ever seen, fearing that the smoothness of your soul would be pierced by the twisted peaks of the brambles around his heart.

Winter came, and you hadn't left.

The snowflakes fell in front of the car lights as if they lived only in the light. They fell to the ground like their only purpose in their infinitesimal lives was to simply lie on the ground and kiss it cold.

You looked up at the sky, it was night, and everything was full of thick clouds. They were all falling like the white feathers of a fallen angel, twirling in an incessant waltz until they grounded wherever the wind took them.

They were falling, and if Icarus had flown too close to the sun, then they had flown too close to the moon, and the latter, recognising them as no stars, blew them away to send them elsewhere. 

And there you were right in front of him, in all that cold magic, reaching out with your gloved hand to pick up a little crystal star that you were looking at very carefully.

It was terrible that there wasn't enough time to take all the snowflakes one by one and look at them. Nature made such beautiful things that it seemed unfair not to be able to see them all.

You took his hand again to go home, and he prayed to anything that was still dear to him that you'd never fade.

And that night, his first dream was of you.

[necros-writing-stuff]

Read this fic. Went feral. Decided I needed to write this dynamic in my own way so here we fucking go.

Younger AU (Eden is 19, reader is 18, they're both orphans getting ready to run away into the forest soon).

Male Eden x AFAB reader (they/them and you pronouns).

Warnings: Eden is the victim, its his POV. Dubcon and bad communication. Creampies/breeding. Mentions of past child abuse and the trauma from it. Hurt and only one of you is getting comfort (it's not Eden lmfao). Loss of virginity. My ass did not proofread. Oh, and Bailey mentions.

Every ounce of his body aches as he practically crawls up the main staircase of the orphanage. A twelve hour shift at the scrap yard will do that to you - especially when you're the young grunt everyone knows is desperate for money. Especially when half of them know that if they break him, if he quits and can't placate the caretaker with cash, they could be buying his ass for a few quid.

Eden's a risk to client health. Couldn't be charging much for him unless broken bones were the desired outcome. And the young man had heard enough rumours of illegal fighting rings to be wary of the possibility that he could be heading to one of them, instead.

Eden tries to shake the fears from his mind while cracking his aching neck. Not anymore. He can't be hurt anymore, not now that he's grown so big. The rat that runs the orphanage hasn't beat him in years because of it and any threats are pretty much empty. Toward Eden, at least.

He reaches his room and stumbles through the threshold yawning, almost missing the shape distorting his bedsheets in the dark. His heart doesn't speed up seeing it, the dark haired man barely even flinches. He already knows what it is, can already hear the sniffling whines coming from below.

Carefully, he pushes the door closed, the click of the lock what finally gets them to scramble out from the cheap polyester-blend sheets with wettened wide eyes that scream for mercy even though no harm has come to them.

Your name is soft on his lips as he holds his arms out, letting his friend fall against him as he steps closer. Pride building within himself as those wide eyes sparkle with relief even if the tears don't stop.

"They- they took Emma a-again," you hyperventilate, struggling to describe what had worked you up so badly. Little words were needed anyway.

Emma was situated in the room beside you. A good friend, a kind friend who shared whatever food she could, when she could. A friend who had barely lived through the last time she was sold.

Eden's large hand comes to the back of your head, cradling it delicately, urging it to rest against his chest as he hushes his dear friend, his sweaty work t-shirt absorbing your tears as they fell. Usually he'd rock you side-to-side, but with your legs still kneeling on the bed he instead kept up with his calming mantras, the assurances he must have muttered a thousand times.

He wasn't good with words, but he'd said these ones enough that they came naturally.

A thousand more times he'd repeat them if he had to. At least until he could get you out of here. He'd been searching for the right place out in that forest, searching hard for somewhere safe. Anywhere safe.

"They're going to take me soon," you whimper, voice cracking as your fingers claw at Eden's clothed back.

"Hey - hey, no. No they won't, I'm not going to let that happen. Me and Bailey both, yeah?"

Your pitiful eyes stare up into his, his reflection in them showing the concerned frown etched into his features. Still, the corners of your lips quiver as you continue.

"I just turned eighteen. He'll come for me soon; he'll come for me like he did everyone else."

It had always been the three of you. Him, Bailey, you. Two older brothers with their sweet little sibling they did their best to hide behind them. It had worked, so far.

You were one of the quiet ones. One of the kids who could fly under the radar, one who didn't inspire hatred from the old toad behind the desk. Unlike Eden and Bailey. The threat of being sold had been over their heads for a year - but the beatings had started way before then. Made them much less scared than the others who were moved to this wing. They were already numb to it.

Corraling you to lay back down doesn't take much effort, not when Eden kicks off his steel-toe boots and joins you on the lumpy mattress. Your head immediately rests on top of his chest, face nuzzling against his neck as he continues to let you treat him as your lifeline.

"We won't be here long enough for him to hurt you, alright? I'm going to keep you safe." He whispers it against the crown of your head, your little secret shared just between the two of you in that moment.

There's a non-committal hum from you, the sound making your lips brush softly against the column of his throat. It tickles, and the dark haired man ignores the shiver it sent down his spine. Just an accidental brush.

A silence creeps in while he holds you, your sobs calming until your breaths are mostly even though still a bit shaky. Each puff blows against his skin, tugging on his nerves and threatening another shiver to come forth. It makes his stomach heavy, knowing that you're here, you're upset, yet he's having this horrible involuntary response to the affection shared.

His mind being so lost is what makes him miss your hand inching down his chest until its cupping his half-hard cock through his pants.

Deathly silence. Silence that prickles his skin worse than your little breaths had.

"... I don't want someone taking my first time from me," your small voice strains.

It's clumsy, how your hand palms him. Clumsy how it rubs against him, the friction of his rough clothes unpleasant against his sensitive flesh. It should be unpleasant how its you doing it, yet another shiver stutters Eden's lungs and forces him to gasp for the missing air.

Those soft, sweet lips meet his throat again, playing ignorant to the scratchy stubble that has to irritate the thin skin - Eden's involuntary gasp seemingly being taken as encouragement.

The young man isn't good with words. He knows to curse out abusers. Knows to fight back, to snarl and kick and punch. You aren't an abuser. You're just scared.

"You love me, right Eden?" Reedy is how you sound as your head lifts, peering down into his green eyes you had once said you thought were a pretty shade. He hadn't believed you then.

Something should be coming out of his throat. Something like 'Yes, I love you. But not like this.' What comes out instead is a clicking noise when your palm presses down once more, the dark haired man's eyes blinking shut as an ounce of pre-cum wets his boxers.

Clothes shuffling calls for his attention, it opens his eyes enough to see your hand sliding below his waistband and into his underwear. All he needs to do is gently grab your wrist. Carefully pull it away and just cuddle you so you know he cares, but he doesn't want this. Eden can't really feel his arms right now.

Your pink little tongue wets your lips again before you lean over him, kissing his slightly chapped ones as your hand finds its mark.

Another gasp from him, another misread response you take as permission to keep going and to flick your tongue against his own while your fingers wrap about his now pitifully hard cock. It's not a shiver this time, it's a jolt that makes the muscles in his left thigh seize for a brief moment.

It's hard to say if you're doing good. He hasn't exactly had any positive experiences in this department, regardless of if he was sold or not. It feels good. The heaviness in his stomach deepens, a sense of guilt and nausea rising in tandem.

Slick noises register in his ears. For a second Eden thinks its himself, or perhaps the kiss he isn't really participating in. It isn't, though, not if your weak moans are anything to go by. It's you, your free hand having disappeared beneath your own pants to... to prepare yourself for him.

"You're so big, Eden." Irreverent, whispered, praised.

Tightness pulls on his balls, licks of pleasure making his toes curl in their socks and making it harder to breathe. His mouth is so dry now, without you kissing him. He shouldn't want your mouth back on his own.

'Please be bored,' Eden pleads to himself when you pull yourself fully away from him. 'Please change your mind - I don't care about still being hard. I can't say no to you, please.'

Instead, your pants are shucked off, thrown and discarded on the old hardwood floor along with your shirt as you get to work pulling his clothes off.

Every action has to be involuntary. It has to be, when Eden doesn't even feel like he's here. He can't be leaning up to help you in your quest to make his chest bare. But he is. He can't be raising his hips to free his legs of the clothing. But he is.

Unsteadily, your body shaking, you climb atop Eden, the plush of your thighs pressing down onto his lower abdomen and hips. So soft, so precious. Just like the smile you're aiming down at him, that love you spoke of shining so clearly through your expression.

He can see the wetness of your cunt from here, the slick liquid having spread to your thighs and dampening the hair down there. Most people shave now, when they're expecting things like this. A small comfort, that you didn't plan this. It didn't stop self hatred banging around his skull at how his cock jumped when your fingers spread your lower lips apart.

It feels as soft as it looked when you slowly sink down. Eden was still paralysed, despite the intensity of your heat and how it suctioned him in. He still couldn't move. Until you whined in pain and rose from his lap an inch or two.

That's the trigger that gave him his strength back. You, in pain. You, needing comfort.

Shooting up from his laying position, Eden's arms were around your waist in a second, his voice back to hushing and comforting. Your face back to his neck as you hummed along to his words, relaxing once more as you tried again.

He should stop you. He could have stopped you, this time. He shouldn't have pushed his hips up, shouldn't have let his eye twitch at how fucking good you felt wrapped around his shaft as some part of his brain screamed at him to fuck up into the heaven he found himself in.

The guilt stayed his movements. It stayed them until you cautiously began to bounce, used to the stretch of him now and eager to feel good. Then, Eden's arms almost crushed you against his chest, halting your hips as his own began a bucking rhythm.

'Let it feel right,' part of him insisted, raising the pit in his stomach to a calm plateau.

Pretty is what your voice sounds like in his ear. Pretty as you babble on about how nice it is, how he fills you just right and how you won't let anyone else ever touch you again. How you're his, you promise.

It's not a bad thing, right? It just means you'll always need him, just as you have before. You'll be a constant even as things change. And Eden hates change. But this isn't really change, is it?

It feels too damn good to last long. Too great, too much suction pulling his head further and further away from any semblance of reason.

Wanton noises spill from you, high pitched keening as you take every inch of him you can while your body quivers in his embrace.

What finally pushes Eden over the edge is the predictable, suffocating ever tightening walls of your cunt spasming around him - massaging his length and milking him dry of his seed. Too late now to realise you hadn't used a condom. Too late now to consider that a third might be coming to the forest with them that isn't Bailey.

Exhaustion hits him like a truck, not just his body, but a deep haze over his mind that pushes him back down to his pillow with your sweat glistening body falling on top of his own. The ceiling is so bare. Most ceilings are, he realises, just white voids to stare up at unless they've got that horrible popcorn shit on them. You haven't pulled him out of you.

You don't pull him out of you. You keep him there, even as you snuggle close and almost sing your love to him despite the fact that you're whispering still.

He has work again in the morning. Eden can't sleep. You snore softly, resting on top of him. He tries to reason that it's because his socks are still on, and that's just not comfortable. He tries to keep his breathing calm, even when it's trying it's best to run away from him.

[blackstarchanx3new]

FSR rambles 20

If you go with the viz translation, Green might have considered he had to kill Vio in that fight lmfao.

I lean very much on he wasn't going to and wanted to just knock his ass out but the flicker of "Oh shit. I might have to do something horrible" is still a present thought added here.

Since we KNOW Vio has a scar from Blue tossing that rock, and Blue even brought up he wonders how bad Green's scar is Green clutching his stomach here is uhhhh. Concerning haha.

Not beating the "Vio fucked up your stomach" allegations there Green.

Dark Link might have not really gotten the POINT of Green remembering this fight.

or maybe he's just too distracted to care.

Green's fucking face when Dark says "I LIKE VIO TOO!" gets a fucking laugh out of me because holy shit he looks pissed.

Like the audacity of that statement given everything is so funny.

Dark flipping hair colors depending on who he's imitating/talking about is just a fun visual detail and makes me very happy this comic is in color.

Jealousy...It's best served with Depression From Dark Link.

Because dude just keeps sinking back into a depressive state. It's almost like Dark just, doesn't want to talk about himself at all with Green.

He'd rather Green talk about himself/his experiences.

SOooo since I'm here to give all the answers:

"Why WAS Dark crying in this scene?"

Cause of Vio.

He was crying Vio's tears.

His hair has changed to vio's color, and he doesn't even realize he's crying till Green points it out.

There's also the idea he didn't realize Green was TALKING to him since he's not used to being noticed.

Hehe flashback.

So something to note: Blue didn't talk to vio, but just came to sit with him...Weird.

I'm sure there will never be a follow up about that weird detail and it was thrown in for absolutely no reason. :D

So to loop back in on why Dark Link was crying, Vio is just, busted up on the inside about all the bullshit with Shadow Link.

But isn't really allowing himself to express that in any real way.

I added this in cause I felt we didn't get much closure on all the bullshit Vio did in the OG manga due to time. So, here ya go haha.

haha guts spilled.

Vio really sums it up though. He "did" a lot of things by taking NO action. The guilt of inaction is haunting him HARD right now and it's just eating him up inside.

A continuous motif is when shown anything involving what Vio did to Shadow his face is obscured or not detailed, pitch black in shadows.

In this scene it's goopy which just adds this suffocating feel to his actions and words.

Vio's literally drowning in regret over his actions and can't reconcile with what he did.

Smth I honestly think the all ages rating completely holds back on us in the OG. Like I don't need over the top "oh nooo what have I become" but a LITTLE acknowledgement that vio watched Shadow (or at least it's heavily implied) kill people and outright text that he watched Shadow burn a forest would be nice.

We didn't see much of the consequences of Vio's actions even in just a self reflective idea despite them being SO HEAVILY FEATURED in the og manga.

Like we see the actions. We get no real closure for how vio is feeling about it. It's so odd.

Agh. So many emotions so hard to articulate the stuff behind them. XD

Green watching back on a past memory with just, a forlorn look on his face.

Dark is STILL crying and Green goes to wipe away his tears which just oomf.

Dark and Green's relationship is one I love VERY MUCH from a LOT of angles.

In a lot of ways in this scene specifically Dark is a stand in for Vio.

Green's wiping away Vio's tears from Dark. But it's still a sweet action regardless. He's showing kindness to an entity that hasn't been all that kind to him.

And on that note: Dark Link hasn't received much kindness from ANYONE.

Shadow's was basically entirely veiled in watching his own trauma from Vaati being thrown back in his face.

But there's not really strings attached to this action from Green. He's just wanting to comfort Dark, presumably as we'll see in a second BECAUSE he feels he failed when comforting Vio.

Anyway back to Vio and Green lmfao. I had too much to say about 2 panels of DarkGreen.

Vio questioning if Green hates him after this shit is a punch to the gut.

Haha guilt.

Guilt.

GUILT.

Green in FS just kinda fucked off and said "Screw them I don't care" when he was split up from them. (A reasonable response after so much bullshit lmfao)

but in doing so it opened him up to feeling a LOT of guilt over what DID go horribly wrong.

And it all sank in in this moment.

And current Green just watching back with sadness while giving Dark affection just aghhhh.

Pain. All I know is PAIN.

Honesty, togetherness. Pls kiss-

But as morbid as Green's words are it's true. Whether they succeed or fail at least they're together now.

Doesn't mean he's not still scared as hell.

This is the kind of characterization I wish we got from green in the og.

Like his bad leadership skills aren't really addressed in an impactful way outside of him fucking off for a bit haha. Which is never really brought up again after the pyramid bit and it only does in relation to how it affected HIM and not his team as a whole.

Green being more open about how he's a flawed leader is just smth I enjoyed adding.

*Laughs in Vioxgreen*

And I'm not sorry either.

Funny how HERE Vio is talking about the downside of being Link while in current day he's the one who wants to go back to that...

Just a fun food for thought thing.

The kiss is very much spurred from "Damn you're being nice to me rn."

Think you broke him there Vio.

Vio's no fucks given attatude really does boil down to "I've made so many mistakes what's another one" when it came to kissing Green.

Not that Green minded much haha.

Also hilarious you make such a disgusted face at the notion of smooching Shadow Link when page 358 is a moment green-

but yeah Vio's self loathing is on full display here and green's just like "Nah bro. but...you're a good boy-"

Smth I enjoy about Vio is just how much ANY link could be like him if they had enough removed from them.

Vio as a character to me is very much a side of Link that is completely willing to do ANYTHING to succeed and has NOTHING holding him back. Resulting in a very "not like link" link character.

The deadpan way Vio describes what he DID to Shadow Link.

Like in a lot of ways he's just. Numb. Like he's just dissociating with own actions.

It's less of a "Realization" that they're gonna have to deal with Shadow again at some point but the reminder still stings.

There's smth to be said on how I find a lot of people boil down the "Vidow is toxic thing" way to much and basically try to strip the convo of any nuance at ALL.

Here's an idea: They're both victims and perpetrators and they both care about each other but surprise surprise, being on two ends of the hero villain spectrum they were fucked from the start.

Vio lists what he did to Shadow here but Shadow was no fucking saint news flash: THEY TRIED TO KILL EACH OTHER. :D

They both did shitty as hell things to each other cause circumstances fucked them BOTH OVER.

Shadow: Pressured this bitch into joining him and DID NOT take NO for an answer and oh yeah tried to kill him when it turned out vio lied to him-

Literally wtf was Vio supposed to do when Shadow showed up in the woods. Pretending to be on his side just to not DIE if this massive lighting using man child decided to throw a fit if he kept saying no. Their entire team got wasted to shit by this guy and he tried to kill green at the start of the mangaaaaa.

it's almost like coercion is bad or smth...

Imo it's clear they care about each other it's freakin' circumstance that fucked them both over.

In terms of what they did to EACH OTHER I'd say Vidow is pretty even on that board. (If we don't count what Shadow did to other people in which, lmfao Shadow, the bad guy character is clearly more evil)

I have a lot of thoughts about Vidow lmfao.

I happen to like the fact they're a doomed romance I can give a happier and worse ending but that's just me-

Green and Vio after kissing:

😳

but yeah lol thanks for your input Green I'm sure Vio appreciates it. XD

Haha very funny Vio.

Though there is smth to be said about how Vio spent who knows how long sleeping next to Shadow Link that sleeping alone after that would be weird.

Oh Green. Sweet Sweet Green.

THE FUCK ELSE WERE YOU MEANT TO DO!?

ENLIGHTEN US PLEASE!?

Thank you dark for telling him affectively to stfu.

Dark's eyes being white with Blue is very unnerving and I like it. XDD

I'm just gonna say it:

I am in love with the last panel for a LOT of reasons.

So many.

Like idk where to even start holy shit.

1st of all: Dark giving green the flower. I've shit posted he wanted Green to eat it but that's not a joke lmfao.

2nd of all: Dark Link being a sweetie not only in his actions but his words. It was very fun to write him with someone he truly deeply respects.

Vaati he considers too dumb to live and Shadow he straight up thinks is the evilest entity alive. Zelda he barely interacted with and I've given my thoughts on them I think but like, there's not enough there to really deeply dive into yet.

Green, GREEN IS SOMEONE HE OUTRIGHT LIKES! And we get to actually see Green and Dark interact for an extended period UNLIKE Dark and Zelda. (I will have a LOT to say about them later lmfao)

And what Dark is saying here just, is the truth. Green is downplaying what he did MAJORLY, and Dark getting him back into a realistic sense of what is even feasible for one person to do is a welcome thing.

Overall I'm very happy with the dialogue I ended up with being "You did what you could with what you knew, that's all anyone could ask of you."

It's words I think a lot of people need to hear at one point or another.

Also, Dark Link is in a very similar boat AS GREEN. Vaati puts insane expectations on him and acts like he's a failure for not meeting them. Dark hasn't quite been hit with the "i'm not good enough" stick yet to take any of that seriously but they are in a similar boat of having the weight of their own worlds on their shoulders.

This is an experience he can actually RELATE to Green on in his own way.

In a lot of ways, darks lack of insecurity, and him kind standing up for Green here is a reflection of how he doesn’t view himself as a failure despite being treated like one. He's seen failure and doesn't deem Green or himself failures and won't beat around the bush in saying as much.

Overall I think the point that Dark makes, that sometimes there is nothing else you can do. And digging yourself into a guilt hole is not helping. Reminding yourself "I did what I could with what I knew" is a good thing to keep close to your heart. I think that point feels very strong coming from him. XD

You as a single person can't fix everything and you shouldn't have to.

Dark's infamous bitching about Vaati doing NOTHING while he does all the work, and him saying to Green "Bro you did the best you can" feels so personal and well indented coming from him. Which ah, has been so lacking in someone who thus far has been around people like Shadow and Vaati. XD

3rd of all:

This highlights an aspect of Dark that has been, rather shrouded in a questionable variable.

If he can TRUELY be a helpful entity or if he's only really evil. Obviously there's clues that Dark is more than what he seemed at first since he uttered that he wanted kisses and cuddles lmfao.

But this highlights the "Dark is a fucked up therapist" angle.

Lastly this whole interaction just stands out as smth that doesn't benefit Dark in a single way. In fact it might actually be a detriment to him.

One of his self described tasks is to destroy their mentality so they can't do anything to Vaati. But respects Green too much to not say smth when Green is being an idiot towards himself. XD

Having Dark being a nuanced character is smth I enjoy a lot because he's just so complicated. Shadow's whole "I'm the hero link think" didn't go beyond basically just jabbing at Link there was a dude with his face running around being bad and reveled in being bad.

But I like exploring a character who TRUELY thinks they are like Link and not just doing it as a jab. Dark's delusions that he IS a good hero is what makes him so fun to me. (I do like Shadow's characterization but making Dark and Shadow substantially different from each other was the goal. XD)

Cause Dark Link's thoughts that he's a hero aren't skin deep or just him talking himself up vs Shadow. Dark's mind is constantly contradicting itself to what he's supposed to be doing.

His main goal often defaulting to just wanting connection with others even if it kinda bites his other goals in the ass. Cause dude is lonely as hell as well as depressed and connecting with others kind of becomes his main driving force vs his actual purpose. XD

Suffice to say: I like this one panel a lot and DarkGreen as a whole means a lot to me from a story standpoint not just pure shipping fodder. XD (Even though unironically I do think they're one of the best ships in the comic from a dynamic standpoint.)

I think Dark is an important character in EVERYONE progressing their development in FSR and I do like how he's so flexible as to be a good foil or nudge characters in certain directions.

Darkgreen as a dynamic specifically just hits good cause of how it feeds into Green's arc of accepting help and listening to the fact he's not a failure and that this time, he doesn't have to pile things on his own shoulders and he can rely on his team. (Which is similar to his arc from the manga but the twist here is that he feels he needs to bare the weight of being the team leader.)

Dark kind of ended up being a "Safe" person to talk about his anxieties about.

Which is very ironic.

Lmfao. Green wasn't expecting that at ALL from this dude.

panel 2 is funny cause haha more funny out of pocket things Dark says involving "romance" (His urge to be close to people)

The "huh?" "Huh?" back and forth is inspired by smth in AOT lmfao go figure but two characters "huh?" ing at each other just gets a laugh out of me.

Like they're both confused to shit.

Green especially must have a ton of crap going on up there because this dude is ALL OVER THE PLACE during this conversation but admitting "Hey I'd want you to kiss me too" is probs the weirdest part lmfao.

The absurdity and audacity is just, laughable.

I don't remember who exactly Dark is quoting but I know SOMEONE said "Shadow link's a really bad guy" (I really wanna say it is green lol) and I thought it'd be funny if Dark repeated them here considering the circumstances. XD

It sounds childish as fuck but also cements WHY Dark doesn't like Shadow Link immediately at least in context to Green. Since Green doesn't know anything about their scuffle.

Of course Green pries a bit because figuring out Dark and Shadow got beef is...interesting to say the least.

He saw Shadow shaking him like a magic 8 ball so he's not THAT surprised but still that's weird.

Dark fundamentally seems to not really understand why he pissed Shadow off or he's being obtuse on purpose. Take your pick. Either way he's very to the point on him perceiving Green as "Hating" Shadow Link.

When in reality it's a lot more complicated than that.

Green also catches Dark refers to himself as a hero here which, confuses him but also intrigues him a bit.

Since I'm pretty sure this is the first time Dark has proclaimed himself to be a hero in Green's presence. XD

And considering Green's context: That's a wild ass thing to say.

I think it's interesting Green feels safe enough to confide in Dark at all...

Or you could take it how I kinda thought and by mere proxy of Dark not really being someone he can't afford to not let down, he can be honest about his feelings.

The other 3 colors and Shadow he has to have an heir of control and leadership around. Dark, doesn't expect squat from him, Dark is kinda their enemy...and he isn't someone Green needs to have a mask around.

Dark also giving him wiggle room to feel safe for that second I think Green just kinda, broke and wanted to talk about his feelings with SOMEONE and that SOMEONE just happens to be the nightmare monster that's a mental terror.

I think he's also lowkey defensive about why he's still a bit ehhhhh relationship wise with Shadow Link. XD

Because Green's wording here is WEIRD

"Nothing was the same after...ALL of it." - is more in reference to their entire journey and while Dark is the curse destroying their head Green can't blame him for shit that SHADOW did to make them mentally unwell as hell haha.

Like...Well the things Green describes above.

SPECIFICALLY the "You didn't laugh while me and Vio nearly killed each other" is...AMUSING because Dark did just watch kinda in surprise at that lmfao. His take away from that fight was "You like Vio? I like vio too. ^w^"

Green's not aware that Dark did uh, goofy things involving vio at the start of this comic haha.

Green's general bitterness towards Shadow makes a ton of sense. As Green puts it, Shadow put them through HELL. And he has every right to be pissed I think even if Shadow helped them in the end.

1 - It's called denial sweetheart they were both in it last night. XDDDD Vidow be complicated ya just gotta accept it.

2 - I fucking love Dark Link. He's just a treasure. Confused by Vio and Shadow's confusing ass relationship.

3 - Green's got that sexy self reflection to make his opinions nuanced.

4 - Truth.

5 - Dark Link's like "Damn I found a smart boy"

I do love Green getting shy at Dark Link praising him haha.

The admittion Dark thinks Green is a good hero also gives insight into what Dark THINKS a good hero IS to begin with.

What's fun here is just how different of a character Green is to Vaati or Shadow. Dark Link (At this point) hasn't had anything to berate Green on being hypocritical or weird about. (That wasn't Green's direct insecurities that Dark was just parroting) When in comparison to Vaati or Shadow who are "lying idiots". XD

Green downplays any good things he does while wallowing in his mistakes And Dark's like "...What are you talking about???"

Also Green. That last statement. You shouldn't have said it haha.

1 - That moment where Dark just, freezes and stops talking and STARES. Greens' like "Uh...you okay" wordlessly.

2. Creepy face.

3. Oh dear it's worse. XD I cannot remove the inflections from that one Lazy town meme "WOULD YOU LIKE TOO!?" and it makes me laugh but Dark's in general just, creepy as hell in these panels.

Also fun time into getting into Dark Link blushing since I don't know if I've gone into that:

Dark Link blushes for a lot of reasons but tends to do it when he's emotionally unstable. And he FOR SURE IS after Green made that throw away statement that he's unable to see into memories.

Dark Link is ALL too eager to share that experience though. For better or for worse.

I call him a sweaty weirdo for a reason. Dude be sweaty. XD

This entire page is hilarious and horrible for Green but Dark having no emotional filters is the norm for him at this point hah.

The main take away here is that Dark wants a "yes" out of Green when it comes to letting Green see something.

Green's horrified "WHAAAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR FACE!?" is the first time someone's ACTUALLY referenced verbally that Dark makes disturbing expressions. XD

Which is another thing Dark does involuntarily when over excited. Like it's obvious Dark's not a normal human and I don't exactly think the hylian-ish form we see of him is his natural state. I think it's the result of him mimicking Link's appearance.

I think the interesting take away is that Green kinda catches on imediately Dark isn't acting this way to scare or hurt him but just has zero emotional regulation. But who'd fault Green for being scared from this behavior. XD

Dark's dialogue is all sorts of concerning here. Saying "They can watch whatever Green would like", which is very much a push to get Green to watch SOMETHING with him to a point where he doesn't care WHAT it is as long as they do it. But describes the process as "Sickening" which... Seems to throw the idea it'd be "fun" out the window but he proceeds to say "It'll be SO fun we'll both THROW UP"

Which uhhh.

Okay then buddy.

The response Green gives, which is to just gently push Dark off him is a far cry from how Vaati and Shadow treat him physically.

Green's got insane patience.

Which speaking of that, if Dark is ONLY used to physically violent actions towards himself, him shoving Green on the ground and not really thinking about it makes a lot more sense.

I think the most gentle thing someone's done was Shadow and Vaati patting him on the head.

It's funny to me how Dark kind of realizes his behavior was inappropriate from Green's reaction and apologizes. Which, again is smth you wouldn't expect out of your casual evil villain man.

Green comes to the conclusion that Dark is nuttier than a squirrel which...took ya long enough bud XD

Again Green kind of applies "This is a bad guy who's trying to trick me" logic. Which we know isn't really Dark's style.

Lying is what his DAD does after all-

Dark confusing the words "Catch" with like, the physical action of catching something which is just smth I find cute.

I'm sure I've touched on it before but Dark's conflation of "Fun" and "Pain" has been smth with him from the start of the comic. (Masochist much lmfao)

And on a level he kinda knows it'll make Green miserable to watch something with him but kinda doesn't care and just wants to do it WITH SOMEONE for once. Thus he doesn't want any payment because, well. Asking for payment would be rude.

I just like his completely broken logic on that because it shows how mangled Dark's idea of things like pleasurable and painful experiences are.

Green's determination is a turn on for Dark apparently.

Just kidding but Green. Green. Awww Green.

That's such a bad idea to look into Vio's memories stop.

Slot machine Dark was just a fun visual I thought would be weird unnerving, kinda funny and match Zelda quirkiness.

[betterfettered]

I love your yandere Lucifer... Maybe I have a defective survival instinct, but I have heart eyes for that micro-managing maniac. If you would indulge my curiosity, how would his yandere obsession develop after he falls in love? Would he immediately try to take control of his darling and their life as soon as he realizes his feelings, or would it happen slowly throughout their "relationship" as he gets more and more demanding?

Hello beautiful sweet anon! I am so glad you love my yandere Lucifer 🥺💖 I got another ask that's a little similar to yours from another beautiful sweet anon

Could you do NSFW headcanons of Lucifer? Please, spill the tea! 😳 Is he always rough with his darling, or does he have a sweet spot for an obedient little darling~ 😇 or perhaps he's extra rough when he's feeling affectionate? 😈 Would he seduce them or take them by force? As intimidating as he is, we all know how persuasive this sexy, sexy bastard can be! It's part of the charm. If you cannot tell I thirst heavily for this devil of a man, insane or not (though I will admit I prefer him insane 😉)

So I'll group them together into a list of Lucifer HCs!! 🧚🏿‍♀️

(Gn!reader x AMAB!yandere)(dubcon)(bdsm)(Descriptions of sort of dom/sub relationships that are not sane, and only maybe safe or consensual.)(18+ readers only please, mdni)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life. If you were to have a relationship with someone like this, they wouldn't be your dom, they would be an abuser.]

• How would his yandere obsession develop after he falls in love? I think it would be a number of factors mixing over time rather than an immediate shift, but when he finally reflects on how his personality has changed, he would just decide to commit to it. To explain a bit more: I think after falling for you, he would develop a protective impulse over you. But he's always busy with work, and while he's away his brothers are always taking you to do dumb or dangerous things (what he thinks is dangerous can be subjective and dependant on his mood). That would stress him out, so soon he would start imposing rules on what you can and can't do. Since the brothers really cannot help themselves, they'd probably always be getting punished for things. They never learn their lesson anyway, so no harm done on their end, but any sense of guilt or anguish you felt over always getting them in trouble would gratify Lucifer. Hurting others is a significant deterrent for you, and he has no problem doing it, so he can just cut out the middle man and tell you what he'll do to your friends if you keep acting out. Of course, your friends are his brothers, so when he starts saying such things, he'll wonder what he's thinking/feeling that's driving this violent and controlling urge. Once he realized the true nature of his feelings, he'd commit to them and just announce that you're to be his future spouse and obey everything he says, and that's that.

• That isn't to say you aren't getting your own punishments that whole time. He has a lot of "games" he likes to play, but many of them revolve around keeping you in anticipation. He'll blindfold you and nudge your face with a riding crop, fluff your hair with it, stroke your spine, and then whip your ass with it so hard that you can't breathe. Then, pause, gently poke your nose with it, run it under your chin, and chuckle to himself when it makes you flinch.

• He also likes to force you to take part in the design of whatever he's doing. He'll ask if you want to be on all fours or kneel, tell you to pick which flogger he uses, or ask how many times you think he should hit you (it's a trick question: if you pick fewer, he'll just do it harder to make up for it).

• He always leaves you covered in marks, announcing his claim to you, but never leaves make up streaked down your face by tears.

• He likes blowjobs, but they're not his favorite. He wants to be more active and command the situation, while blowjobs feel too passive. Now, face fucking on the other hand? One of his favorite ways to punish you for speaking out of turn. He'd never admit it because it's so sloppy, but if he fucked your face hard enough that you puked he'd feel quite accomplished. It's another side of you he forced out with his actions alone.

• He doesn't really feel the need to seduce you, because things will end the same regardless. He takes great pride in knowing your body and what you like, because it makes him feel more like you belong to him and will do/feel as he says, so he's going to make you unintelligible whether you want him to or not. You are his. What you have to say doesn't matter.

• Clenching his teeth onto your jugular is the way he feels most secure, the way he feels most like you are his. Affection drives him a little crazy because he has a hard time just blurting out how he's crazy about you, so it does come out it how hard he grips your face to make you look at him, how hard he fucks you with your face pressed into his desk, how much he bends your body this way and that way to the limits of your flexibility. So yes, he'd almost always rough in handling you.

• If you climb on his lap, undress him, and cover him in kisses, he will melt for you like chocolate in your fingertips, but in return he'll run his hands over your body and finger you until you lose your composure, at which point you'll find yourself beneath him in a flash. It won't take long before you hear the rattle of handcuffs, feel his hot breath on your spine...

• That being said, if he's feeling so loving that he wants gentler sex, he'd be so hesitant and blushy that you would feel like you're fucking a virgin.

• Loves when you say his name or beg him to stop by his name, though he'll always react with another lash, telling you to call him "sir".

• Besides really filthy talk, he's not very vocal in bed. You'd know he's cumming because of his fingers digging into your flesh hard and his body grinding against yours at an irregular pace.

• I'm sorry but I am legally obligated to say that yes he'd fuck you in front of diavolo if the situation called for it

Yes anons no anons? Is crazy ass Lucifer still the man of your dreams?

Slowly starting to clear out the inbox, so don't be shy, send more asks 🙇🏿‍♀️

[professional-termite]

a lil snippet of alistair crumps backstory from my haunted mansion 2023 mall cop au for @autisticgxb2 's birthday!!! happy late birthday SCREAMMM🥰🥰🥰‼️‼️

(tw for some mild themes of child abuse and parental death--i tried to keep it light but its unavoidable for this guys backstory)

Alistair hid in his room, curled up beneath his bed despite the boiling heat.

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG.

"ALISTAIR CRUMP, OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG.

The little boy screwed his eyes shut and covered his ears. He was going to pay for this later, when his father calmed down and found something to pick the lock with, but for now he was safe.

The banging ceased for a few moments. Blissful silence. Alistair peeked one eye open, watching the shadow of his father's feet in the crack between the floor and his bedroom door.

Before his mother's death, Alistair's relationship with his father had always been...turbulent, to say the least. His father was always unimpressed with anything he did, no matter how hard he tried. Oh, Alistair's mother had always doted on him, and praised him no matter how badly he'd failed, but Father was, well, his father--surely he could do something to make the man love him? Right?

No. Always the cold shoulder while Addison worked on whatever project he was doing this week.

When Mrs. Crump fell ill, Alistair had the vain hope that his father would take notice of him. That Addison would say, "Look, son, I know this has been hard on you. But you've kept together so well. Why don't we get ice cream and have some father-son bonding time and recount the good times we had with your mom?"

When Mother died, Addison hadn't come out of his room for three days. Alistair had to cope with not just the loss of one parent, but the loss of both.

Now Alistair was to take his mother's place. The cooking, the cleaning, the sewing. All things his mother had taught him so carefully. All things he had loved to do before she died.

Today, when Addison had asked his son to mend the button back onto his coat, Alistair had taken one look at his mother's dusty sewing kit and promptly burst into tears.

Addison had struck him on the jaw, the spot where the bones of his skull hinged together. It wasn't the first time, Alistair reflected, running a finger down the side of his face and opening his mouth a little to test if it was broken, but it had hurt more than the others, emotionally and physically. It had felt like a breaking point.

He'd screamed at his father, dashing up the stairs while Addison clunked after him drunkly. Taking the key from the top of the doorframe where it always rested, Alistair had whirled inside and locked the door in his father's face. And oh, oh! Alistair you're gonna pay for it, you rotten boy, what would your mother say, hiding away from your own FATHER, you coward, you coward, you COWARD!

Alistair heard a rattling come from the door. Maybe if he pushed himself far enough under the bed, his father would think he jumped out the window and ran again. Maybe his father would leave for the rest of the day looking for him, and he could escape punishment for a little while longer. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead and stung his eyes.

Click.

The door swung open.

[simplygyuu]

Cookies - Beomgyu x gender neutral!reader

synopsis ! : After a hard day at work Beomgyu comes home and gets showered with the love and attention he deserves.. plus a plate of cookies :)

notes : reverse comfort, hurt/comfort, gyu crybaby era, i love gyu

wc : 1887

my friend @ddenoudepression made another version of the same idea !!

her version! (read after mine tho keke😝)

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The minute you saw Beomgyu walk through the door you knew he must have had a bad day. He had come in with his head hanging low, slowly toeing off his shoes and hanging his jacket up. His hair wasn't very long per say, but the way his head hung covered his eyes and all you saw was the line his lips were pressed into.

“Welcome back! How'd it go, babe?” You asked either way, walking over to the doorway so you could greet him properly. You had a clue that it probably wasn't any good news, but it didn't hurt to ask. Maybe he'd open up to you.

“Oh. They rejected it.” Beomgyu simply responded, sounding absolutely devastated and plain tired as he hung up his keys. “Now I need to start fresh.. I don't even know what to write.”

“Oh, I'm sorry Gyu. I know how hard you worked on that.” You frowned, feeling the sadness with him. You had watched him slave over that rough draft of a book for months. He had been nervous if not a bit excited to submit it today. You decided to lean forward and pull him into a hug, rubbing his back gently. He was taller than you so it was a bit awkward but comfortable anyways. After a few years of dating you were used to it by now.

“I tried so hard to get that one accepted yn and he just stomped all over my hard work.” Beomgyu cried softly and you felt your heart squeeze painfully. You used your thumbs to wipe away the tears under his eyes with an understanding look.

“I know baby, I know. Let it out, yeah?” You coaxed him carefully, leaning forward to press a gentle peck to his lips before hugging him once again. Just like you said Beomgyu let himself cry, laying his head down on your shoulder despite the bit of difficulty and wrapping his arms around you.

You had come to realize not long into your relationship that Beomgyu cried a lot. There was nothing bad about that, if anything it made you feel better knowing he trusted you enough to be so vulnerable. That also meant you've figured out some of the best ways to raise his spirits. You held each other until Beomgyu eventually pulled away on his own accord, wiping away the leftover wetness from his tears.

“I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed.. wanna watch a movie when im done?” Beomgyu offered quietly, rubbing his hand up and down your waist gently. Nothing about it was suggestive, he was truly just a touchy person.

“Of course! Why don't you take a bath it'll be some self care time, hmm? Just relax and I can massage your shoulders later.” You offered, planning on a way to make him feel better. You wanted to bake him cookies, knowing he always loved when you made him anything but it was hard to surprise him with something so time consuming. “I know your achy, old man shoulders need it.” You teased with a smile.

Beomgyu let out a small huff of laughter, beginning to smile again as he playfully rolled his eyes. It was relieving to see him smiling again. Sure his eyes were still a bit red, his cheeks and nose now dawning a dusty red tint and a bit of reflective wetness left on his cheeks, but the small smile made up for it all.

“Okay, okay.” Beomgyu gave in with a smile. “Just know I'll be taking my sweet, precious time.” He chuckled before leaning forward to give you a sweet kiss on the lips before finally letting you go and disappearing down the hallway.

You waited until he slipped into your shared bathroom and closed the door before rushing over to the kitchen with a smile. Quickly you began to pull out all of the things you would need to bake cookies. Hopefully if you made this quick you'd finish before he noticed what you were up to.

You admittedly weren't the best baker ever, honestly you never got the chance to bake often. But you used to bake with your friends and knew a thing or two. You had cookies pretty much memorized, you only hoped you'd be able to pull it off now a few years later.

You began preheating the oven, fluttering around the kitchen easily. You knew the room like the back of your hand having lived here with Beomgyu for two years now.

It was much easier to move around and bake with Beomgyu distracted. He tended to like messing with you while you cooked, following you around and hugging you from behind. He would always just laugh as you complained about not being able to move enough, usually not letting up on his hold on you.

Sometimes though he would just follow you like a lost puppy, peeking over your shoulder to see what you were doing and what you were making. It caused you to bump into him a lot. Usually it ended in you banishing him to another room or you giving him something to do in the kitchen so he'd stay in one spot.

In the shy of twenty minutes it took for you to set everything up, make the dough, and wait for the oven to preheat, Beomgyu had yet to leave the bathroom. The time passed quickly since you were so occupied, so it honestly wasn't too bad.

In no time you were popping the cookies into the oven and setting a timer, smiling as it seems you've pulled off the surprise. Right afterwards though, you heard the click of the bathroom door opening. You peeked around the corner of the hallway to see Beomgyu walking out, a towel wrapped around his waist as he used another to aggressively scrub at his wet hair.

You paused for a second, just admiring him with wide eyes. Despite your five years together you still couldn't get over how hot he was. Sure he was usually a pretty sweet, cuddly boyfriend but god was he hot when he wanted to be. Beomgyu then turned his head to make eye contact with you, raising an eyebrow before realizing you were staring at him.

“Like what you see?” He teased, winking at you playfully before walking off to your bedroom so he could put on some clothes. You just felt your face heat up out of embarrassment and really just because of how attractive he was. Honestly, you really won the lottery with him.

Shaking your head at yourself you made your way into the living room to start setting up a movie like you had promised Beomgyu. You checked the timer on your phone, seeing that there were about eight minutes left. That was enough time.

You easily went through the familiar motions of setting up a movie, you two had frequent movie nights together. You also would watch shows together even if the other wasn't very interested. You decided to wait for Beomgyu before picking something. It would be best if he picked after having a bad day.

Once Beomgyu reappeared and made his way over to the couch you smiled up at him, scooting over so there was enough room next to you. He immediately flopped down next to you, an arm over your shoulder as he leaned into you as touchy as ever.

“Have you picked anything?” He asked, glancing over at you.

“Nope, I'm letting you pick tonight. You better remember this forever ‘cause I'm never gonna be this generous ever again.” You replied back cheekily, handing the remote over to him.

“Thank you oh so much my dearest yn.. how will I ever repay you?” Beomgyu played along with a chuckle, taking the remote that was handed to him.

“Hmmm,” You pretended to think, leaning into his side and resting your head on his shoulder. “Start by feeling better tonight and then we'll see.”

Beomgyu looked at you with that fond smile on his face, just nodding at you with a laugh before focusing back on the tv. Once he looked away, you felt a buzzing in your pocket making you realize that must be the cookies. Beomgyu glanced over at the sound and you faked a sheepish smile.

“Hold on, I'll make it quick.” You promised, pretending it was an important phone call before slipping back into the kitchen. As quietly as you could manage you pulled the cookies out of the oven and transferred them onto a plate. You couldn't help the soft hiss that left you since they were still hot but that was okay, that meant they would be good. You also quickly got a glass of milk for Beomgyu, knowing by now that that's how he preferred it.

Finally you walked back into the living room, Beomgyu looking over once he realized you were coming back before his eyes zeroed in on the plate of cookies you held in one hand and the glass of milk in the other.

“Surprise! I wanted to cheer you up and I know you like cookies.” You said as you walked in, setting the plate down on the coffee table in front of Beomgyu. He had yet to speak yet, just watching you with wide eyes. Despite his silence you couldn't bring yourself to feel nervous. Worst case scenario he said he wasn't hungry.

“You.. you made these just ‘cause I was sad?” Beomgyu finally asked and you immediately responded with a happy nod. With a soft hum you carefully choose a smaller cookie before blowing on it a bit and then dipping it into the glass of milk.

“Aaa~” You playfully said, holding the cookie up to Beomgyus mouth with your other hand underneath it to keep the milk from dripping. You enjoyed taking care of him on bad days like this. He easily accepted the cookie, leaning forward a bit to take one of his signature small bites. What you didn't expect was to see tears well up in his eyes once again.

“What's wrong, Gyu? Why are you crying? Don't cry..” You were a bit alarmed, setting down the cookie to wipe away the tears under his eyes yet again.

“No, no im.. im happy. I can't believe you cooked these just for me.. how did you even manage that.” Beomgyu delved into a wet laugh at the end of his sentence, sniffling again. He was so endearing.

“Oh, you worried me you dummy.” You giggled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss onto his forehead before sitting down next to him on the couch and pulling the table a bit closer to you two. He just chuckled with you, the two of you leaning into each other once you sat down.

“So, did you pick something out yet?” You asked while picking up a cookie of your own, watching Beomgyu lift up his abandoned one from earlier.

“Yeah! It's this movie about…”

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notes ! : i hope you enjoyed this.. i liked writing it :)

replies and reposts are super motivating and appreciated !!

general taglist ! : @squiishymeow @beomnioa @jwnghyuns @ddenoudepression

if youd like to be added to my permanent taglist send me a message or an ask!!

[witheringhouls]

To make up for the delay of the release of chapter 7 have a little unedited preview from the beginning of the chapter :D

Hard yellow plastic boots encase wills shins, splattered and sprayed with slopping mud that trickles down the side and pools into creases in the rubber, His rain jacket squeaks as he walks along the edge kicking the stones as he went, Stones that scattered the path in a mosaic of smooth ovals and porous stone that seemed to breath with each passing wind and sharp flint with a blades edge, seemingly left behind from the spears of cavemen, the sun reflected almost red in their shine like the blood of lives long lost. Sky grey and cracked with clouds that hang but don't want to rain, birds flock away into the distance from the sheer volume of Mikes cry , so distraught and full of panic they escape before he can infect them with his grievances. " wait will please-! my foots stuck-!" will swivels around fast enough to loose his balance, swaying and scanning to find mike and help him, the white of the sun reflecting in the dark of his eyes until they seem to brim with holy light. Brambles sharp and vicious had bitten fiercely down and clamped onto the fabric of mike's laces, each attempt to free himself only tugging the sharp brambles close enough to scratch and draw blood. Will laughed with a free spirited good natured lilt to his voice, not a trace of mockery to be heard, air whistling between the metal of his braces. Mike finds himself enthralled, staring up at the kindred spirits face until wills foot thumps down in front of him, wondering not for the first time what will saw in him that made him smile so adoringly. will's legs were poised and ready to kneel down and gently free him from the trap mike had found himself caught in , when a particularly weak piece of earth fell away and fell the short distance between the edge and the water . Mike desperately, fervently tries to grab a hold of will before he falls, his bitten dirty nails just grazing the thin skin of wills arm, and he is petrified it will create a gash and blood would run freely down in rivets of crimson. He'd never wanted anything more than to catch will in that moment, as he flew down surrounded by a halo of dirt and weeds and rock which freckled his face and hung beneath him like clipped wings before he hit the water.

Mike was a haze of emotions, blubbering and bleeding as red as lucifers horns as he is sliced by the brambles and pulls his foot from his shoe. He remembers in a blur the tears which streak his face, the unintelligible cries for help screamed through the walkie talkie, the flashing lights and wills body being pulled from the lake. For a numb unfeeling moment mike thought will was dead, dripping water and blue, the last thing he saw the grey uncaring sky, a sun that refused to shine and the ultimate failure that mike couldn't grab his wrist before he fell. But will is alive and breathing, his fringe glued to his forehead and a blanket wrapped around his quivering bony shoulders, he is gaunt but alive and mike is clutching him like he is the only thing in existence and if he lets go he'll lose him forever to float in an expanse of nothingness, of blindness and silence. He clutches him and he can feel the eye's of everyone everywhere staring down at them in a dome of judgement, for they have passed the age where it is acceptable for mike to cling to will with such fervency, with such love and care and to express his worry for wills wellbeing and gratitude for his life, they are branding him a faggot before he even knows what it means , because will almost died and he almost didn't save him and he almost didn't tell him he loved him. Everyone let empathy fly through the window so judgement could walk through the door. "I-I I love you, your my best friend will and I love you so much," he blubbers against the skin of wills neck, he is unsure whether anyone else can hear him and its the first and last time hthee couldnt care either way. It's closest he ever gets to a confession, he can feel the bruises on his ribs for it for another week.

Read the the previous chapters here :

[fairydares]

Reminiscing on the Hard Road (A Gruvia Fic)

Rating: M

Summary: While on his way to a mission, Gray reflects on the hardships, tears, battles, and triumphs which led to him and Juvia finding their happiness together. (Or: the story of how they finally, officially got together told through memories).

AO3 Link ; FFNet Link

Words: ~8,000

Warnings: Please read with caution as this contains adult themes & situations (though nothing explicit). Also swearing and allusions to mental illness, dissociation and depression symptoms especially. Man this feels like the end of a drug commercial. Enjoy!

AN: I realized how long it'd been since I updated Chasing Tails and was feeling really bad about it. I'm so sorry, guys! I've just been really busy! I don't have time to get Chapter 5 up tonight, but I do have the time to share this Gruvia piece I wrote a while ago as a karmic sort of apology.

With that in mind, this is a bit of a rough, long one-shot. It comes from a chapter in a larger, mostly Nalu-focused fic which I may or may not ever actually finish writing. Sooo it's not even really a one-shot so much as it's, like, a segment of a chapter from one. I also barely had time to clean it up ever so slightly.

However, I thought Gruvia fans would appreciate anyway. Maybe one day, I'll write the whole thing because I honestly think it could be a story, or maybe a series of drabbles? This is all you kids get for now, though, lol. no fucks given (just kidding this will keep me up nights.)

o(O)o

Ignoring Natsu's whining about still being motion sick from beside him, Gray buried his hands in his pockets and let his eyes engage in their favorite past-time: roaming the curves of the blue-haired woman walking in front of him.

Him and Juvia had officially been together for over half a year, but his eyes still snagged on the same places they always had. The sway of her blue hair, now long enough to partly obscure the pinch of her waist and flare of her hips with each swish. The pretty, cute flush that lived on her cheeks as she listened attentively to Erza, who was chattering about a famous desert shop in the area. The way shadow and light shifted over the curve of her rear. And—forever his most favorite—the exposed skin of her legs. Long, toned, moon white...and fucking perfect.

Gray felt his cheeks heat, but couldn't find it in himself to drag his eyes away. The solidness and length of their relationship did absolutely nothing to diminish the novelty of her beauty, like he might once have feared it would. Instead, it hypnotized him more surely than ever. Noticing all the men drooling over her figure as they walked past, Gray was aware of the sting of possessiveness and annoyance which rose in his chest, but was also easily able to ignore it.

He was as comfortable as any guy with a stunning girlfriend could be in his own jealousy, these days. More shockingly, so was Juvia, a fact that was plain from the way she shot only perfunctory glares at the women eyeing him and whispering to each other as they passed.

As he stared at her back, his lips quirked ever so slightly. It had taken time, tears, and work—more work than he could ever have anticipated—to get to this point in their relationship. But work had never been more worth it.

His mind wandered to reminiscence. To where it had all started, when they had started, after the 100-Year Quest had ended and he'd finally—with Lucy, Levy, and Erza's help—managed to ask Juvia to be his girlfriend.

"Not just 'yours'," Levy had insisted, explaining that phrasing would confuse her. "Your girlfriend."

He'd actually fought them on it. Not really because he had a problem with commitment anymore (okay, it was a little embarrassing, but not too much) but because the words "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" felt ridiculous, considering everything they'd been through. How deeply he cared about her. For crying out loud, they'd tried to kill themselves for each other. He'd kill for her, die for her, and—most importantly—he would live for her. Beyond making his ears feel like they were going to melt off, the word "girlfriend" felt trite.

But when Lucy and Levy demanded to know if that meant he was going to propose, he'd balked. Actually, having the m-word shoved right up against his nose kind of made his soul flee his body. As ready as he was for a romantic relationship, he wanted to go through the actual experience of having one. Like, with all the steps involved. In order. He was at the point in his life that he wanted it more than anything.

More importantly, he wanted to give Juvia that experience. He was determined to do right by her.

With the girls' reality check, and the point they'd made that ambiguity might make Juvia jump to the wrong conclusion or even hurt her, they'd convinced him. He'd been committed to making his long-awaited confession as special for Juvia as possible, complete with saying any embarrassing words she wanted to hear.

Gray still hadn't felt worthy of the love she gave him. He still struggled to believe he was a man who could protect her. But after everything he'd been through during the 100-Year-Quest, seeing how much she'd missed him the whole time, and his talk with Juvina-sama, he'd understood it was completely unfair to ask Juvia to wait for him to decide he was worthy enough to love her openly. He also wasn't above admitting that Juvina-sama's suggestion that she wouldn't wait forever had disquieted some irrational part of him enough to make him antsy, impatient to make absolutely sure they were exclusive.

He'd been completely flustered throughout his confession, but known it had gone as right as it could. Lucy, Levy, and Erza—who thought they'd been slick, hiding in a nearby bush to watch him confess—had agreed. (Lucy had annoyed him to no end by teasing him over how "adorable" he'd been.)

And yet...Juvia's response hadn't been quite what Gray hoped. Lucy hadn't noticed it, but he had. He didn't know exactly when it had happened, but at some point, he'd learned to read the Water Mage like an open book. For how sincere a person she was—a trait he was all too familiar with—Juvia could also be surprising, even mysterious. As transient as water, with hidden depths you'd never know a thing about unless you were willing to dive beneath the surface.

When Gray confessed, he'd braced himself for joyous screaming. He'd planned to freeze a literal flood of tears before it could wash them both away. He'd been prepared to get a concussion from how hard she'd glomp him in the street. But while she had said yes, demurely accepted the roses, and hugged him plenty tight...her response had been subdued. In hindsight, he could see the pattern her reaction fit: the way her gaze had dropped to the street despite her happy flush, the hesitant, nervous gleam in her eyes, the limited verbal response.

The only times she'd ever acted that way had been when he actually reciprocated some of her affection. When he'd promised to give her a straight answer, after he defeated END. When he'd given her a one-armed hug and said he was glad her "body" was safe, after he'd saved her from that wood bastard.

Something had been wrong. But when the girls who'd spied on him only gushed afterwards, not seeming to have noticed anything off, he'd shrugged off his concerns, assuming it was his own lack of romantic literacy. He'd been nervous, but also really excited to learn.

But as their relationship officially began...it quickly became obvious that there was a problem, and that a one-sided approach to fixing it just wasn't going to cut it.

Juvia had always been prone to mood swings severe enough to make Gray's head spin, but as soon as they started dating, her mood seemed to sink. He'd try to ask her about it only for her to put on an obviously fake, cheery front and insist she was fine.

At first, he was sure it must be his fault. He'd had no idea what he was doing wrong. At that point, the guilt he felt for not taking Juvia's feelings seriously for so long, for abandoning her in Amefurashi Village, and for nearly letting her die in an attempt to save him had been taking a serious toll on him. The guilt had sometimes left him ragged. Every time she seemed down, he beat himself up and tried to do better. Talking, dates, spending time together (even when it meant ditching missions he really wanted to go on with the team), accepting her gifts and acting happy about them (no matter how much they creeped him out).

But the more he'd tried to make up for everything, the worse it seemed to get. He watched her frustration rise as he tried to be more openly affectionate, her denials that she was frustrated getting louder. More and more, she gave, but when he gave back, she'd look ready to explode or burst into tears.

What had made everything come to a head was the sex. A surprise in itself. For all the ways their relationship had suffered, sex had never been one of them. It'd started back in the cabin they shared in Amefurashi Village. From the first night they'd moved in together, Juvia had not-so-surprisingly tried to edge her way into Gray's bed constantly. She'd use excuses of cold weather, make puppy eyes, and sew nauseatingly pink coupley bed sheets to try to lure him (when, he still had no idea).

Meanwhile, he struggled more and more to pretend he didn't find (most of) her antics adorable. Not to mention incredibly tempting. Things escalated to where he'd feel his excitement rising towards the end of their daily training sessions, to the point his body became conditioned to react when he saw the damn sun set.

He also felt increasing dread at the notion of having to turn Juvia down—and for having to sneak out in the middle of every night to "take care" of the problem she always left him with (cold showers didn't exactly work for an Ice Wizard).

Finally, one night, she'd pouted and whined that she was sore from training and begged for a massage. Gray didn't know if it was the fact she was asking him for something instead of offering; the unbelievably cute, sparkly-eyed, hopeful glances she kept sneaking at him; or the fact he could tell she actually was sore from the way her face would pinch as she attempted to stretch provocatively in front of him, but his resolve had shattered.

Before he could think and without a word, he'd lifted his covers and held her gaze, not bothering to hide the dark promise in his eyes.

Her reaction had been priceless. He'd never forget it.

His acceptance seemed to knock the breath straight out of her. Her eyes had gone round as saucers, staring into his eyes like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her cheeks had darkened. She'd stood stunned for so long that he'd started to get nervous, wondering if she'd only been being playful all this time, not really meaning to come on to him or maybe not expecting him to ever accept. But just as he'd been trying to field the disappointment sinking his heart and trying to think of how to promise he wouldn't do anything she didn't want, she'd hesitantly approached the bed, trembling.

After giving her the massage she'd asked for, he'd rewarded her bravery three times over.

After that, for the very first time, the dynamic of their relationship shifted in one, important way—the one which would force him to finally confront his own heart:

In terms of their physical relationship, he became the more dominant one. In this one aspect of their shared life, he chased. Gray flustered Juvia. He hadn't been able to get enough. What had once been a relentless, one-sided pursuit (one where she had, admittedly, been gaining on him without his notice) became a dance which had addicted him before he knew it.

The notion of reciprocating her feelings had once had him running for the hills. So it had been a huge shock to learn just how much he liked it.

She was so obviously happy and disbelieving that first time he slipped her clothes off in the moonlit dark, cursing over her beauty. Utterly awestruck when he'd seen to her pleasure (twice, he still liked to remember proudly) before even considering his own. Sex was the first time he heard her speak in the first-person, the first time she said his name without adding "-sama" (since that battle in the rain, anyway.)

It was when he lost himself in her soft skin, her passion, and her pleasure that some part of him was able to accept the truth she'd had the grace to surrender to from the very beginning.

The shift in their sex life was also when he'd started to twig something wasn't right between them. After Alvarez was when he'd started it back up. His plan had been to wait until he was able to reciprocate her feelings verbally, like he'd promised, but almost losing her had broken him in a way some part of him would never truly recover from. Between that and his final, full acceptance of his own feelings, there'd been no restraining himself. He'd come onto her with all the subtlety of a freight train the second they were alone.

Even then, something hadn't been quite right. She hadn't been herself, quiet enough that—even as...compromised as his critical thinking skills had been, at the time, and even in his heightened emotional state—he'd noticed. He'd pulled back and asked if she was okay, but when her response had simply been to drag him back in for a kiss that made his knees weak, he'd taken it as a yes and matched her passion enthusiastically.

She kept staying quiet in bed. It bothered the hell out of him, and he badgered her about it more than once, but would ultimately let it go when she insisted she was fine. In his defense, there had been a lot of reasons she could've become subdued. They had just fought a war. They were all exhausted from fixing the town and working to build peace in Fiore.

But after the 100-Year Quest and after his confession, she got even weirder. He noticed it all the time, in every aspect of their relationship, but it was especially noticeable in bed, when they were so close to each other, both completely vulnerable.

When they'd cohabitated, he'd almost always been the one to start something. He'd enjoyed that. He'd even (hell, especially) enjoyed the way she'd flirt, pretend to be oblivious to his advances, pout and blush and make him impress her, coax him to the brink of losing his mind before finally caving to both of their desires. Those times where he went from prey to predator had balanced their entire relationship, satisfying both of them.

Gray wasn't some slimeball who needed sex, but he did need some balance in their dynamic. The private, physical side of their relationship was just where it'd happened to play out. It could've played out anywhere in their relationship, if they were off sex for a while for whatever reason.

But as soon as they became official, it became clear she'd fight tooth and nail to make sure that never happened.

She came onto him. Every. Single. Time. He'd been a little surprised, but happy enough. At first. But as he pushed her to talk to him harder and she denied louder, he'd started to guess that something was genuinely, really wrong.

She didn't speak in the first-person when they were intimate, any more. She didn't drop the "-sama." Even worse, he started to suspect she was seducing him even when she wasn't really in the mood. Almost like she felt like she had to.

It had been one such time when he finally flipped his shit. Even now, walking behind her and appreciating her curves, the memory made his mood falter a little.

He regretted how he'd handled things. It shamed him to remember how he'd all but shoved her off him and refused to do anything else with her until she was ready to tell him whatever the hell was going on inside that crazy, watery head of hers. It was an ultimatum. A cruelly-put one, at that. He hadn't realized just how hurt and angry he was until the words flew out of his mouth.

Juvia had opened up, alright.

In fact, she'd exploded.

They'd screamed at each other, horrible things Gray could hardly stand to repeat even in his own head. She'd demanded that he quit wasting both their time and leave her again, like they both knew he would. He'd asked how stupid she could be to think he'd do that, when he was obviously dedicated enough to put up with her psycho stalker gifts. She'd retorted that her "psycho stalker gifts" didn't seem to have any affect on his libido. He'd yelled that she was the one jumping his bones, ever since he'd asked her out. She'd said that was because she actually cared about his happiness, implying that was something he'd never understand.

She'd ended the black, ugly fight with four hoarse words that ripped his heart out of his chest: "This is over, Gray-sama!"

His apartment door had slammed behind her.

He'd been too shocked and devastated to do anything but watch her go, not even managing to stagger to the door and chase after her until she was long-gone. Black curse power had swirled across his skin as he pelted to the guild, growling in frustration when he didn't find her there. Then he'd run all the way to the female dorms at Fairy Hills only to be deterred by Erza, who met him at the gate. She hadn't known anything about his and Juvia's fight, but she'd been drawn by his yelling.

His older sister figure had knocked him out "for his own good."

The next afternoon, Gray had woken up in his own bed. Not bothering to see if he was dressed (it would turn out he wasn't) he'd booked straight to the guild only to be devastated by the news that Juvia had taken a long-term S-class quest just that morning, news which was delivered by a sympathetic Mira.

Sure that it was over, that he'd ruined everything, he'd drunk himself sick—then kept drinking, swinging fists at anyone and everyone who tried to console him until, finally, in the wee hours of the next morning, Gajeel managed to knock him out of it.

The hostility, Gray had expected. Gajeel was Juvia's best friend; of course he was angry to learn that Gray had done something to upset her so much, she'd left for a Quest that could take months or even years to finish without so much as a word to Gajeel or any of their other comrades.

What did surprise Gray was the understanding Gajeel eventually showed.

Gray got his ass knocked flat by the Iron Dragon Slayer. From his back on the ground, he started to spit out what happened. With each word, the larger man had visibly calmed. After enough had come out, he'd awkwardly helped Gray to his feet (his own, gruff brand of apology.) He'd helped Gray sober up, then he'd given him a pep talk.

He'd refused to explain his own guesses as to what was going on with Juvia, insisting "who knows what goes on in that water witch's head." But he'd also insisted that whatever was going on, it for damn sure wasn't what Gray thought, which was that he'd hurt her too badly for her to love him anymore.

"She's obsessed with you," the man had said, scowling in disgust. "She's always been obsessed with you. She's way too stubborn to let it go that easy. It's annoying."

By six AM, Gajeel Redfox—of all people—had talked Gray into chasing after the love of his life. He'd even used his Iron Magic to create a lockpick which got them into the archive room, where they'd found Mira's records...and Juvia's location.

He'd barely had the time to register the irony of her quest's location before he was gone, shooting Gajeel a gruff "thanks" over his shoulder and running home to pack.

It'd been raining when he finally walked into Amefurashi Village.

He hadn't consciously known where to start looking when he arrived, but his feet—following some combination of muscle memory and the fate he'd fought for so long—had carried him to the place where the word "home" had changed for him: the cabin he and Juvia had shared. Where they'd grown together. Taken care of each other.

Where he'd left her. Hurt her. Even if most of the reason to do so was because he wanted to protect her, he couldn't stop hating himself for that.

She was standing outside the place, drenched and shivering, when he got there. As if sensing his arrival as surely as he'd known where to find her, Juvia had turned to look at Gray with eyes that were glassy above flushed cheeks. She'd wavered on her feet.

As soon as she'd whispered his name, she'd toppled. Gray's bag had landed in a puddle with a splashy thunk. He'd lunged to catch her like his life depended on it.

Shouting her name had earned him no response, but pressing the back of his hand to her forehead had been enough to convince him that she had a seriously high fever.

Strangely, as worried as he'd been about her, he hadn't even thought to bring her back to Wendy or seek a nearer healer. In hindsight, he was sure that deep down, he'd realized it would do no good; she wasn't physically ill, but heartsick, just as he was. He'd felt lower than the mud gathering around his boots.

He'd been surprised to discover that he had to break into their old home, and rapidly deduced that Juvia hadn't been staying at their old cabin even though she'd been standing outside of it, both from that fact and the fact that none of her stuff was there.

As soon as he lay her in the bed which had once been his before becoming theirs, she'd begun shivering. For the first time in his life, Gray cursed that he was an Ice Wizard instead of a Fire Wizard.

He'd run outside, grabbed his bag, then come back in—only to curse again when he unclasped the bag only to discover that all its contents were soaked. Thinking quickly, he'd stripped his wet clothes, then hers. He'd climbed into bed with her.

"'M sorry, Gray-sama..." she'd slurred her sleep. "Juvia's so sorry...Juvia had to...I just had to..."

He'd shushed her, rubbing her arms to try to warm her up. "It's okay, Juvia. I know, my love. It's okay..."

He'd kept holding her and whispering soft comfort to her until she'd finally stopped shivering, at which point his frantic worry had abated enough that he could fully admit to himself how good it felt to have her in his arms, her skin against his. How warm she was. How perfectly she fit against him. How much he missed her. She was right there, as close as another person could ever be to him. Yet with how things had been between them lately and how lost she was to fever, he'd never felt further away.

Apparently, he'd fallen asleep at some point, because when he awoke, it was to the rising sun blazing at him from the center of the cabin window. Ignoring his body's reaction to waking up in the arms of the very naked, beautiful woman he happened to be in love with, Gray had instantly dropped his hand to Juvia's forehead, sighing in relief when it became clear her fever had reduced. She wasn't better, but she was getting there.

Quickly figuring out what needed done, he'd dropped a tender kiss to her warm forehead, murmuring a threat against her sweaty hairline: "You'd better not even think of running away again, crazy woman. We are going to talk when I get back."

Gray had dressed, glanced back, and left. He'd met up with he client—a rich and unfortunately good-looking asshole about Gray's age who was way too disappointed Juvia, herself, wasn't the one who'd shown up. Through gritted teeth, Gray informed the bastard it would be a couple days before he and his partner (he was sure to emphasize those words several times) would be able to begin investigating the dark guild threatening the area, as she'd fallen ill.

It annoyed him to no end that the creep seemed genuinely concerned about this, trying to insert himself, demand to see her, and attempting to coax Gray into revealing her location (Gray couldn't help the pleasure and hope which rose in his chest, when he learned she hadn't told this guy wherever it was she was staying; obviously, she'd had no interest in sharing that information.)

The client had thrown a rich boy tantrum when Gray refused to tell him anything, but ultimately let him go when Gray promised Juvia would be there in a couple days (not bothering to mention that he would absolutely be there, too.)

He'd gone to pick up medicine and food. He'd grabbed all the ingredients he could remember for something hearty, mild, and delicious she used to make him when they lived together, a chicken stew that tasted like something he could remember from childhood. Those ingredients, medicine, ginger tea...anything he could think of that might help her feel better, he purchased, barely noting price.

Juvia had been waiting on the porch wrapped only in a blanket when he returned, flushed with both fever and anger.

They'd both been pissed at each other. While Gray locked horns with Juvia's amorous creep of a client, she had apparently been discovered by the landlord who owned their old cabin and only barely managed to talk him out of his anger, ultimately having to pay double their old monthly rent to keep him from calling the authorities—all while wrapped only in a blanket.

A brief yelling match had ensued. It ended when Juvia began coughing rather violently, Gray dropping his groceries in the mud to run to her. Even as she insisted she was fine, he'd ushered her into the cabin, forcing her to sit before he went back out to grab the food he'd bought.

Her face had gone funny when he began grouchily unloading chicken, rice, broth, veggies, and herbs. When he (somewhat defensively) asked what the hell she was staring at, she'd haltingly asked if he'd bought all of that for her. Exasperated, he'd told her of course he had, she'd had him worried sick.

The groceries had been abandoned when she burst into tears.

It had taken several minutes of heart-wrenching sobs on Juvia's part and coaxing on Gray's for the conversation to actually begin.

During their ugly fight in his apartment, she'd exploded.

Here, in the lonely home they'd once shared, she imploded.

While the groceries thawed and dripped on the kitchen counter, Juvia sobbed the whole, messy, painful truth into his chest. She told him everything. She told him how, deep down, she'd always known she wasn't worthy of having her love reciprocated by him. It had been true from the moment they'd met, when she'd been part of Phantom Lord, but remained true no matter how long she'd been at Fairy Tail. That was how she'd put it: "I always knew I wasn't worthy of Gray-sama's love." Not only because of her past, but because of how annoying she was. How gloomy. How creepy and obnoxious.

Gray hadn't even had time to express his horror at the fact she thought those things before she'd been plowing on, her tears only getting thicker and her words only making his heart sink lower.

She said knowing she didn't deserve his love had turned to knowing she didn't deserve to love him at all, when she'd killed Keyes to free Gray's father from his undead life. But even though "Gray-sama had been wonderful enough to forgive Juvia," she'd continued to hate herself, deep down.

She told him that sharing a life in the cabin they were currently in had, for her, been the sweetest kind of torture. That she'd never been so happy—and never felt more undeserving. For the first time, she told him that she'd only had one lover before Gray, some piece of shit named "Bora" who'd never cared about her or her pleasure. Gray had been nothing like him, attentive, caring, and as invested in her pleasure as he was in his own. At first, feeling so cared for had been as overwhelming as it was amazing, but by the time Gray started to pull away from her for his mission, the overwhelmed feelings had slowly begun to fade, letting her forget everything but the happiness she felt with him.

Juvia told him that the day he abandoned her to infiltrate Avatar, everything which she'd started to believe could feel right began to feel wrong, and everything which had felt wrong began to feel right. She'd never felt she deserved to be loved by Gray the way she loved him. Being left by him had, in a horrible way, made her feel like the world was how it was supposed to be.

But it had also ripped her apart.

It had destroyed any confidence she'd begun to gain in herself.

She told him that she resented being abandoned. Resented not being told about his mission to infiltrate a Dark Guild, not just because of their relationship, but because she had once been in a Dark Guild, and could potentially have helped his and Erza's Mission. She'd not only felt betrayed on a personal level, but disrespected as a Mage with no small amount of skill and experience.

It was a side to the issue which he had, shameflly, never considered.

He was mortified when she'd finally let herself chastise him for this—especially when he'd tried to defend himself by bringing up details of his mission only to be instantly struck down and ripped apart by someone who was, in fact, very obviously more knowledgeable about the inner workings of Dark Guilds than either he or Erza ever had been. Hell, Juvia could probably have run the mission almost as well as Jellal had.

For the first time, he saw just how beneficial it would have been to have her on board, despite Erza urging him not to get her involved. He should've gone against her orders, asked forgiveness instead of permission. Over the course of that one conversation, it was clear that having her on board would have shortened the length of their mission by probably several months.

But worse than the benefits they'd missed out on, in infiltrating Avatar, worse than the fact that she resented him, was her admission that she hated herself for that resentment.

She'd apologized. So many times. Too many times to count. Each apology was another crack in Gray's heart. He'd tried to ask her to stop, but they'd just kept slipping out anyway. It was like she couldn't help it.

She'd told him that over time, as she got to know the other women in Fairy Tail—Lucy, Cana, and Levy—she'd realized just how unworthy she was of the care Gray held for even just his friends. She just hadn't been forced to confront her own lacking sense of self-worth...until he openly reciprocated her feelings.

She said that the second he confessed, part of her felt wrong. Like she'd donned someone else's skin—someone who was worth being loved by Gray. Her guilt, her knowledge that she wasn't worthy of him, her bitterness, her self-hatred...all of it had come rushing to the surface.

She told him that, as unworthy as she'd felt, she'd been too selfish to reject him. Too angry at the thought of him being with someone else. Her own selfishness made her feel even worse than before. She'd been determined to be worthy of him, and so she had sought to pay every ounce of love he gave her three times over. At least.

It hadn't made her feel any better. No matter how hard she tried to be sure to pay him back, every time Gray took her on a date or made love to her, it made her skin crawl, because she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve his love, his affection, or even his attention. He deserved better, and she was nowhere close to deserving him. She never would be.

If there had been even one last, single sliver of a doubt as to how he felt about this woman, it died then and there. Nothing—not his own guilt, being screamed at, or being broken up with—nothing could hurt worse than being made aware of what a hard time she was having. Learning just how badly she'd been dissociating during all their most precious moments. How much pain she was in. How little she thought of herself. How deep her scars ran.

He'd have given anything to take her pain away. He'd have given anything to change it. Right then, he couldn't think of a single thing he wouldn't have done to make her see herself as he saw her: the energetic, caring, fierce Mage he'd come to know. The woman who always eclipsed everything else for just a second, the first time he saw her every day.

He'd wanted to tell her all that, and more. He wanted to apologize. He'd wanted to tell her how badly he missed her after he'd left her here, that this place had been home for him, too. He'd wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, that no day without her smile even felt real, but his voice had been stuck behind a lump of misery and all he'd been able to do, for a very long time, was lay in their bed and hold her while she cried the rest of it out. He wasn't too ashamed to admit he lost a couple tears in her hair, too.

Over the twilight of time it had taken for her sobs to turn hoarse, then to whimpers, then sniffles, guilt, emotional exhaustion, an anguish washed over Gray in their turn.

Until finally, he hardened all of those feelings into resolve.

"I'm really thankful that you're here. For always being beside me..."

Those were the words Gray had said to her before Alvarez, and he'd meant them. For years, Juvia had done nothing but be there for him. Even when he didn't want her there, she stayed right next to him, quietly piecing together his heart and his trust. It killed him that the woman who'd confronted him with her love, made him face down his own weakness, always thought of him, and helped him so much more than he could ever truly thank her for had been hiding so much of her own pain. He wished she would have told him any of this all the times he'd pushed and asked.

But he couldn't blame her for that. Maybe she hadn't opened up to him before then, but her mentions of her days in Phantom and of that shithead ex of hers had driven home, with stark clarity, a realization he wished he'd made a lot sooner: Juvia didn't know how to open up like Gray had tried to demand, because she hadn't grown up somewhere like Fairy Tail.

Unlike Gray and Natsu and the others, she hadn't been taught to bare her pain, hadn't always known there would be someone to listen to her, cry with her, be on her side. While Gray had been fought, teased, and accepted for exactly who he was (more often his whole self than not) Juvia had been abandoned by every single person in her life except Gajeel and those who'd wanted to use her for their own ends. Gray abandoning her had only confirmed what she'd been taught was inevitable.

But the Ice Mage wouldn't linger on that. He wouldn't give any more time to despair.

It was his turn now, he realized. His turn to stay beside her even when it was hard, and do the work. Now, he just had to figure out how. But while he'd been trying to do that, had been gathering his words, Juvia had recovered enough to speak once more.

She'd apologized again. She'd told him that she knew this was too much, that all of this was too much...that she was too much. For the times they'd shared, she thanked him quietly, eyes bright with yet more tears and refusing to meet his as she continued that she'd had to let Gray go because she wanted him to be happy, and she'd finally, finally realized she could never do that for him, not really. Then she'd tried to push him away, and as Gray had tightened his grip, he'd realized he didn't need to figure out what to do, what to say, or how to love her.

She'd been showing him all along.

After a deep breath, the words had come low, and easier than he'd thought. He told her she was right, all of this was a lot...but also that he was so, so happy she'd finally told him what was really going on. He'd been as gentle as possible when he told her he could see how difficult and scary it had been for her to open up about all this and that he was proud of how brave she'd been for doing so, but she'd started crying again anyway, so he'd had to carry on with a shakier, hoarser voice.

He'd apologized. For everything. For not taking her feelings seriously for so long, for not seeing her when she needed to be seen, for leaving her behind and hurting her so badly she'd gotten sick. He hadn't been dismissing her abilities as a Mage so much as he'd been trying to protect her, but that was no excuse. "High-handed and cruel" was a generous way to describe his behavior, and he finally saw that. He'd told her that if he could take it back, he would. But he couldn't. He could only promise to never, ever leave her like that again, and he was more than ready to make that promise. He had been for a long time, since well into the 1oo Years Quest. If she'd only give him another chance, he'd show her.

At this point, Juvia had obviously started to twig that this conversation wasn't going to go how she planned, with Gray accepting she was too burdensome and unworthy for him and leaving her alone like everyone else had left her, because she'd started kicking up a fuss, forcing him to hold her there again.

"Let Juvia go, Gray-sama!" she'd demanded shakily, sounding like she was barely clinging to her determination. But Gray had refused. He refused to let her go like this, not until she'd heard him out.

As brief as the ensuing argument had been, it was also one of the most frustrating conversations Gray had ever taken part in (and he'd fought Natsu on basically every cock-and-bull-ass plan he'd ever come up with.)

He'd tried desperately to insist that while Juvia could be creepy and he did find rain somewhat gloomy, she was not worthless or annoying or obnoxious. He'd tried to tell her that she did make him happy. He'd tried to tell her how he felt about her.

Juvia had not responded well.

A wall had slammed up in her eyes, the same blank one he'd met on that fateful, rainy day so long ago. As she'd kept denying, and he'd kept pushing, their voices had gotten louder. Eventually, Gray had realized it was raining outside the window next to their bed again, and that was the one thing that had forced him to take a step back from his own frustration. Lucky, because if he hadn't, he might have flown off the handle and ruined everything all over again.

Looking down at her, he'd forced himself to cool off and realized he was being unfair; he was asking her to take an entire journey in one leap, to unlearn a lifetime's-worth of lessons about her own worthlessness over the course of a single conversation. No one could do that. It was an unreasonable thing to ask.

And so, when he'd finally gathered his wits and perspective enough, he'd said, "You don't have to agree with me. You don't have to agree with my feelings for you. But you have to believe that they're real...and you have to at least consider my side."

Juvia's eyes had gone wide. As they regained their sparkle, he'd refused to break eye contact. Slowly, the rain had stopped, leaving them in the silent hut.

After what felt like years, she'd shakily whispered, "O-okay."

And Gray had known that they were finally, finally getting somewhere.

Quietly and slowly, with their hands intertwined between their chests and their foreheads pressed together, they'd pieced together a fragile plan. They would stay together and be as they had been, but from now on, they were both going to make a concerted effort to be honest and rebuild trust. Gray started by admitting that missing out on Quests with his team had really started to bum him out, and while this seemed to sadden Juvia at first, she admitted after some thought that in being with Gray, she hadn't been nurturing her own friendships with her friends like Gajeel and Meredy. Lucy had also asked for help training her in Water Magic, and Juvia had declined so far even though she was interested in having someone to teach.

Gray had encouraged all of this...and he'd encouraged her to visit Porlyusica, too, when they got home. The old lady was hardly a Mental Healer, but she'd hopefully be able to help them find someone who was, someone objective and removed from the situation who Juvia could talk to openly. One thing which had sunk in fully for Gray over the course of Juvia's heartrending speech was that it was going to take a lot of time, work, and love to get Juvia to a better place. There was no way the two of them could do it alone.

They'd talked and planned until their voices were hoarse...and then they'd not talked for even longer. Juvia once again dropped the "-sama." She let him come to her. She didn't just surrender herself to him the way she had when they had each other before in their cabin, she'd given him even more—in his arms, she'd bared a small and precious part of herself Gray had never even realized she hid from him.

Over the course of the month they spent in that cabin, he'd cherished everything she gave him more than most men could've in twice the amount of time. How they'd managed to deal with that Dark Guild months and months ahead of schedule, he would never understand, because his head had never been less in the game. Neither of them had been able keep their hands off each other for more than an hour when they were alone together.

Neither had been particularly disappointed when that crotchety old landlord refused to give them back any part of their months' rent. Instead, they'd stayed till June was up breaking the place in thoroughly.

"It's payback for him being a jackass to you!" Gray had once playfully defended against her neck, pinning her against the kitchen counter and grinning as she gigglingly scolded him.

He only prayed no one ever took a UV Lacrima to the inside of that place. They'd go blind. He'd taken her on the couch, over it, against the walls, on the counters and tables, and in more positions than he'd previously known existed in that bed. When they returned home, a bunch of people had pointed out that they both looked like they'd lost weight. Gray didn't doubt it, after all the—

"...seriously, none of you know what it's like, every time we travel...OI, STRIPPER, YOU MAYBE WANNA QUIT EYE-FUCKING YOUR GIRLFRIEND WHEN WE'RE IN PUBLIC, YOU GODDAMN PERVERT?!"

The absolute last voice Gray wanted to hear when he was thinking about such great, intimate things yanked him out of his reflections in the most unpleasant of ways. An expression crossed between a scowl and a grimace consumed his features.

"Gray-sama!?" Juvia spluttered, craning her neck to peer at them over her shoulder with wide eyes. She looked half-scolding, half...affected as her cheeks went rose red.

Gray felt his own face grow hot as he turned to glare furiously at the pink-haired, disgusted-and-disgusting-looking bane of his existence.

"Would you keep your voice down, Dragon Boy?! I was not 'eye-fucking' Juvia!" His cheeks burned hotter as an elderly woman passing by shot him a deeply disapproving look.

"The hell you weren't!" Natsu snapped, drawing even more attention. "I could see all your gross, perverted thoughts right there in those droopy eyes of yours!"

"ARGH! So what?!" Gray just wanted this fight to be over, and figured that sort of admitting to what he'd been doing was the quickest way to make that happen. "Can't a guy even look at his girlfriend without pink-haired, flame-brained losers getting involved?!"

"THE HELL YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

"OH, SO YOU'RE DEAF AS WELL AS BRAINLESS, NOW?!"

"THAT'S IT, I'VE HAD IT! YOU'RE DEAD, YOU ICY BAS—"

"That's enough."

Uncharacteristically subdued and uninvolved though Erza's command was, it was enough to have both Natsu and Gray cringing and sweating in fear almost instantly.

"A-aye!" they squeaked, then sighed in relief as she shot them one last glare and clanked away.

"Ah, it always goes this way." Happy folded his little blue sausage arms over his chest and tsked. "If only Gray had kept his perverted eyes on himself, we wouldn't even be talking about this."

"And just how the heck is one supposed to 'keep their eyes on themselves', huh?" Gray growled up at the floating Exceed.

"By not being you, apparently!" he cackled back, Natsu soon joining him in his obnoxious guffawing.

"Why, you—! Get back here, you little shit!" Gray made a random grab at the little creep only to curse as he missed his tail by about a centimeter.

Meanwhile, Juvia clasped her still-red cheeks with her hands and donned an all-too-familiar, starry-eyed expression. "Juvia does not mind at all if Gray-sama...covets Juvia in public! How Juvia adores Gray-sama's passion!"

Gray flinched as if he'd been whipped in the back. In a second flat, he was blushing again. "O-oi, Juvia—!" he started, scrambling to find a way to get her to calm down before she came onto him in public.

(Again.)

"However," she continued before he figured out how to distract her, turning to look at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "If Gray-sama is going to covet Juvia on a public street, Juvia thinks he should at least wear clothes."

"Wha—?! CRAP!" Gray shouted as soon as he realized he'd stripped down to his boxers. "When did that happen!?"

Juvia wrinkled her nose cutely and giggled while he scrambled for his clothes. When he was finally yanking his jacket on, he shot her a playful glare only for his lips to quirk when she winked and sauntered after Erza.

That little...she'll get it later, he thought with a huff before shoving his hands in his pockets and strolling after her. He was well aware that he was full-on grinning, now, and didn't care in the slightest.

Little interactions like that...those were the fruits of all the hard work they—especially Juvia—had done when they got back from that S-Class mission. Gray had been prepared for it to be grueling and difficult, to fight. "Relationships take work" was a piece of advice he'd heard plenty, since he started asking for advice about how to love Juvia.

But what he'd never expected to find was that, while it was hard sometimes, it was work he was all too willing and capable of doing, because it was for her. For them. And what no one had told him was that, while loving someone meant their pain became yours, it also meant that their triumphs became yours, too.

Some days had been worse than others. Even though she'd been talking to a friend of Porlyusica's and made an impressive effort to spend more times with her friends, there were moments where Gray had felt like Juvia was back at square one. But he'd been there beside her, encouraging her every step of the way while she healed, learned that he wouldn't leave her again, learned that she was worth all of it. And slowly but surely, she'd healed.

That was what no one had told him: that every time she huffed at him to do his own laundry, teased him, sassed him into taking her on a real date, and even turned him down for sex, that he would feel such a huge rush of pride and triumph.

It was true that the road had been hard, but Gray had walked it with Juvia, and that had made every step worth it.

o(O)o

AN: Ah, sorry I don't have the time to edit this now and make it more cohesive! Also that I can't publish my next chapter of Chasing Tails just yet! I definitely, definitely will come back to edit this piece one day and make it better after I've done that. In the meantime, Happy Belated Gruvia Day!

P.S.: Fun Fact! I named this partly after one of my all-time favorite fics from a completely different fandom. The Hard Road by wthtonibelle, a Kacchako fic (from the My Hero Academia fandom) which is written in a similar way and has similar themes, only it's longer and better lol. check it out if you're so inclined!