#i don’t know whether to laugh or cry or allow myself to be affected by the delicious smut

[6esiree]

“𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭—𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩, 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝.”

Oh, this made my heart hurt for Lucifer.

Me: Alrighty-ho! Time to work on my grossly late fraugwinska's DBD x HH event and 6esiree's contest!

Me, completely a sub to my desires despite having zero experience writing a lucifer x reader fic: This is gonna be a quick, dirty, SHORT one shot. No problem-o! *nearly 5000 words later* fhuck.

TAGS/WARNINGS: vexi's brain rot, p in v, cunnilingus, wtf did I just write, f!reader, lucifer isn't quite over lilith because ✨drama✨️, low key blaming @sociosin for sending me spicy Lucifer's ask and @the-other-soup for drawing sexy lucifer - I stood no chance guys

When you first matched with DuckLover69 on Cinder, you laughed, thinking it was a typo—surely, he meant to type DickMaster69. That seemed on brand for a hook-up app straight out of Hell. But as you stood there in his room, surrounded by luxurious, crimson-hued furniture and bed sheets of rich satin that would have looked decadent if they weren’t crowded by piles—actual mounds—of rubber ducks, you realized this guy hadn’t mistyped at all.  

This man really, truly, loved ducks. 

Maybe a tad too much.

You wove your way carefully through a veritable army of rubber duckies, each dressed in an outfit more absurd than the last. A little one in a sombrero sat beside a duck knight, complete with a silver helmet and a feather. You squinted. Was that one wielding a miniature sword? It stuck out from its back at a haphazard angle, as if this duck had met some unspeakable end in battle. 

How…avant-garde?

“Sorry for the wait!” A nervous, high-pitched voice broke the silence, followed by an anxious chuckle that echoed through the room. You turned to see Mr. Duck Lover, as he’d introduced himself online, standing stiff as a board, his hand twirling a crimson red apple atop his sleek, obsidian-black staff. 

He was exactly as odd in person as he’d been in your chats: curious to a fault and totally oblivious to social cues. His very first question had been, “So, do you know the King of Hell?” Not exactly small talk. But you had shrugged it off, telling him the truth—that you’d hardly kept up with Hell’s political scene since you arrived. You were too busy dealing with entitled assholes in your new, endless service job, a punishment so mundane it felt like Hell’s personal version of torture. 

You’d expected the conversation to taper off after that, but Mr. Duck Lover had caught you off-guard by taking a U-turn, asking without reserve if you liked sex. The question had been so blunt, so awkwardly dropped into the conversation, that you’d ended up laughing. After a hellish day dealing with rude customers, his lack of tact and straight-up weirdness had been refreshing, if bizarre, and you’d surprised yourself by playing along. 

And now here you were, standing in his duck-filled lair, looking at him in all his nervous, overdressed glory. “You weren’t kidding when you said you liked ducks,” you said with a grin, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible as you waved at a particularly stylish duck with a feathered boa around its neck. 

Mr. Duck Lover's shoulders stiffened, and his eyes darted back and forth. Two bright red circles painted his cheeks, and he looked like a mime who’d been caught halfway through his act. His fingers fidgeted with the apple on his staff as he tried for a casual smile, though it came across more like a grimace. 

“I-is that a dealbreaker?” His voice cracked, and you could practically feel the nerves radiating off him. You chuckled, stepping a little closer, savouring the way his breath caught, and his cheeks flushed a unique shade of gold, the colour spilling across his nose in a way that was like glittering treasure strewn across white sand. 

“Nah, just… observing,” you said, your grin turning wicked. “What’s wrong, Mr. Duck Lover?”  

You reached out, tucking a stray strand of gold that had fallen over his forehead back into place. He froze, his breath hitching, his eyes widening as if he’d been zapped. The blush on his cheeks deepened, and he puffed them out, holding his breath, looking for all the world like he was trying not to combust from embarrassment. 

Odd, yes. But somehow, interesting. You found yourself curious—very curious—about just what went on in that strange, nervous, duck-obsessed mind of his. 

You chuckled softly, warmth pooling at the base of your throat as you took him in. How adorable. Everything about him felt so out of place for a guy on an app specifically for hookups. He stood there, stiff as a board, his eyes darting to your every move, arms glued to his sides as though his own body wasn’t sure what to do with itself. And as you leaned closer, you noticed a large portrait hung in the back corner of his room—a family picture, quaint and well-loved. 

Am I his rebound? you thought, as you slid your fingers along his collar, grazing the crisp fabric before slowly easing it off his shoulders. His vest, a pale pink stripe against white, gave him a soft, almost innocent look—a stark contrast to the nerves dancing in his wide eyes. He didn’t resist, simply let his jacket slip down his arms, his breath coming shallow as you leaned in, feeling the heat rise as your faces neared, breath mingling. 

With a gulp, he stammered, “I gu-guess we’re doing the do, that's fantastic!” He tried to smile, his teeth peeking out in a goofy, uncertain grin as he let the jacket fall to the floor. 

“You mean…” you whispered, your voice low as you pressed against him, feeling his entire body tense beneath your touch. “Fucking?” 

He squeaked—actually squeaked—and tried to clear his throat, summoning a shred of composure. “That’s right, f-ffucking,” he stammered, the word awkward on his lips as he sounded it out like it was a foreign concept. “Because that’s… what we do. Now. Here.” His body shivered slightly, and you could feel the tremble that ran from his chest to yours, betraying his every anxious thought. 

A spark of curiosity bloomed in you as you watched his attempts at bravado crumble with each beat of silence. You felt it all click into place. In Hell, family didn’t exactly… exist. Sinners couldn’t create new life here, so the idea of settling down with a partner wasn’t the norm, let alone the idea of casual intimacy. But here he was, talking about sex with the clumsy innocence of someone barely familiar with the concept. “Hey…” you murmured, a thrill lacing your words. “Are you… a virgin?” 

The question struck him like lightning, his eyes going wide, his fingers clutching at his vest in a mixture of embarrassment and flustered denial. “Wha—first time?” He laughed—a loud, forced laugh that seemed to rattle out of him, like he was trying to chase away the truth. “Oh, no, no, no, not at all! I’ve… I’ve used my penis in… numerous ways.” His voice dropped to a low, desperate tone. “I even shape-shifted a few times for… added spice,” he said, his forked tongue flicking nervously, searching your face as though hoping to see doubt there instead of amusement. 

But you couldn’t help it. The men you usually met were arrogant, self-assured, and too focused on themselves to care. Yet here he was—blushing, hesitant, endearing in his innocence. A wicked grin spread across your face as you let your fingers trail lower, smoothing down his vest, tracing each trembling line of muscle underneath until you reached the waistband of his pants. 

You glanced up, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smirk, and his breath caught. His lips quivered, his cheeks flushed, but he returned your grin—innocent and eager, albeit with a slight, deliciously shaky edge. 

You wondered just what kind of man Mr. Duck Lover truly was as your hands moved along his body, peeling away each layer of his clothing, his meagre defences landing on the floor with gentle thuds joining with yours. For all his usual fidgeting and awkwardness, there was something disarmingly tender in the way he touched you, as if each stroke of his fingertips was sacred, each caress reverent. That boyish, clumsy charm he wore like a mask seemed to slip away, leaving behind a quiet intensity in his gaze that made your pulse race. 

“Been… a while,” he murmured, his hands wandering in tentative exploration, pausing over the soft curve of your breast, then settling firmly at your hips. The admiration in his voice deepened as he sighed, his eyes tracing over you as though you were something divine. “God really did create the perfect being,” he whispered, his lips grazing your shoulder, and as your bare bodies met in a slow, full embrace, it was your turn to hold your breath, struck by the unexpected gentleness of it. 

You almost chuckled, the urge to tease him—“Praising God in Hell? How blasphemous,”—hovering at the tip of your tongue. But as he drew you closer, his face tucked deep into the curve of your neck, words fell away, replaced by a silent warmth that seeped into every nerve, every inch of your skin. His arms wound tighter around you, his body pressing against yours, not out of desire, but a kind of longing that felt… deeper.

Meaningful. 

Your arms wrapped around him on instinct, though your mind buzzed with confusion. Shouldn’t this be a quick, meaningless fuck by now? Yet, here you were, tangled in his arms, savouring the sensation of him, feeling the quiet, almost desperate comfort he sought as he held you. The naked intimacy was strange, yes. Unexpected, yes. But something in you didn’t want to break the moment; it felt like a balm, easing all the stress and tension that had worn you down for far too long as you toiled away in your eternal damnation.  

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the steady warmth of his body, your fingers tracing delicate paths along his spine. Each gentle touch pulled soft, barely audible sounds from his throat, the hint of a moan muffled against your skin as your fingers reached his hair, petting through the soft strands. His hair was even softer than you’d imagined, and you felt him sink into your touch, both of you on the brink of letting go.

Letting go of what? You weren't sure.  

But suddenly, he pulled back, and the spell shattered. His cheeks flushed, his hands awkwardly clutching at your waist as he avoided your gaze, his nervous energy flooding back. “Right, uh, sex. That’s what we’re… here for, isn’t it? So, we should, um…” He forced a grin. “Do the, uh… the sex!” 

That was when you finally absorbed your surroundings, the vast emptiness around you, the solemn quiet of his home. There was a lonely hush here, dark and endless, filling every corner, every shadow. And, of course, the lifeless ducks haphazardly thrown around. 

But there was no one else. 

Not a soul in these halls. 

You slipped your hand into his, guiding him toward the bed with a gentleness that felt at odds with your own intentions. You almost considered tucking him under the covers, wrapping him up and telling him that he didn’t have to prove anything to you, that he could wait until he was ready. But he wasn’t a child, and you weren’t here to be his caretaker. 

He lay down first, an eager anticipation flickering across his face despite the faint tremor in his limbs, his gaze fixed on you as you joined him. His body, still soft with nerves, lay at ease, his cock resting against his thigh. You reached out, taking him in hand, moving slowly as your fingers traced down his length, stroking him with a softness that coaxed him to relax. You felt him tense, then soften beneath your touch. 

“Oh… oh wow,” he breathed, his voice catching as he watched your hand, eyes wide with wonder. “Y-you’re… you’re pretty good at this,” he stammered, awe shimmering in his voice as he struggled to keep his composure, his gaze flicking between your face and your hand, his lips parting in quiet gasps. 

At that moment, you couldn’t help but smile—feeling the thrill of his innocence, of his complete surrender. And somewhere in the warmth of his admiration, his trust, you realized you didn’t mind slowing down. 

True to his word, his body responded to your touch with a newfound firmness, his length growing against your hand, his skin silky and heated beneath your fingers. The sensation felt achingly familiar, like a melody you’d danced to before, each note resonating with a purpose neither of you had voiced aloud but understood all too well. 

Loneliness.

That was the reason, unspoken and raw, why you both found yourselves here tonight. You didn’t need his name, didn’t need his history because tonight was about filling that hollow ache. It was a fix—a fleeting, intoxicating drug against the gnawing ache deep in your chest. For one night, the world and its relentless wear could fall away in the ecstatic blur of release. 

You moved to straddle him, your body lowering until your wet, aching centre pressed firmly against the length of his cock, heat melding with heat. His eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, then back up to meet your gaze, a hungry, almost reverent look filling his face. As you began to grind your hips against him, the friction sent a rush of molten heat through you, a spark igniting as you slid over him, slick and needy. 

He watched, his breaths coming in short, shuddering waves, head falling back against the pillow, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure if he should reach for you or simply feel. His own pulse matched yours, every breath and heartbeat syncing to a rhythm of shared need, unburdened by names or burdens. 

Slowly, you lifted your hips, guiding him to your entrance, pressing yourself down until his thick, warm tip pushed past your folds. Inch by inch, you took him, feeling every delicious stretch, every bit of pressure radiating inside you. A soft, desperate mewl escaped your lips as you sank fully, your bodies meeting in a perfect, seamless join. The raw sensation of him filling you hit deep, igniting pleasure like embers to flame. 

His head tilted back, his eyes fluttering shut, a low hiss slipping past his parted lips. “This is…” he began, voice trembling, his fingers flexing as if fighting to keep control, “oh gosh… really wonderful.” His hands faltered, barely grazing your hips before he let them fall to his sides again, his face flushed with both pleasure and nervous restraint. His hips lifted, seeking you instinctively, meeting each of your downward strokes with soft thrusts that went deeper, each time pushing him further within. 

“Oh, oh jeez, oh—golly…” He groaned, his fingers twisting into the sheets as he struggled to find words, every breath shuddering as he fought to keep up. His words, his earnest surprise, almost made you laugh, a kind of sweetness seeping into his awkward sounds as he gripped the sheets tighter. “Wow…” 

You bit back a smile, letting a small laugh escape between breaths. “What? You’ve never had good sex before?” you taunted, rolling your hips, drawing him fully within before slamming back down again. 

His cheeks flushed a deep gold, his chest expanding as he gasped, his muscles tensing beneath you. “N-No—ah, that’s not…” His voice wavered, breaking off in a moan as he sucked in a breath. “Oh, no… if you keep doing that… I won’t last long.” His voice softened, rich with pleasure and just a hint of pleading, as his eyes met yours, full of shy desire. “Please… I want this to last… just a little longer.” His words trailed into a low, trembling moan, his hands finally reaching, hesitantly finding their place on your waist as he held you, breath heavy with yearning, surrendering entirely to the moment with you. 

You hummed thoughtfully, sliding him out of you, his cock springing free and bouncing against his stomach, throbbing with the loss of warmth. His sudden whimper made you smirk, biting back a laugh as you hovered just out of reach. 

“I'm nowhere close to finishing,” you teased, keeping your wet heat tantalizingly close to him, yet unreachable all the same. 

“I can fix that!” he nearly shouted, grinning like he’d just found a solution to all the world's problems. Sitting up eagerly, he waggled his eyebrows with such intensity that it made you giggle. “After all, I was quite the… generous eater in my day,” he added, flicking his forked tongue out for effect. 

“Oh, is that so?” You chuckled, giving him a playful look. “Show me, oh great, generous eater.”  

He joined in your laughter, but then his eyes drifted over your shoulder. His face faltered, brows knitting together, and you followed his gaze. The same family portrait you had initially noticed back in your view—a tall, curvaceous woman with long blonde hair standing beside him and a child who seemed to carry hints of both their features. 

You moved next to him, and leaned back, trying to keep your tone casual. “If you’re going to bring a one-night stand over, maybe next time use a room without a family portrait.” The words came out sharper than you intended, a twinge of bitterness souring the edge. 

His shoulders tensed as he turned to you, eyes wide with a guilty look. “Oh—no, that’s not…I…” He stammered, his hands fluttering in the air as if trying to reach some explanation. 

You sighed, deciding to throw him a lifeline. You were here for fun, not drama. “Hey, relax. It’s…whatever,” you said with a casual shrug, a grin playing on your lips. But that lingering bitterness in your chest didn’t quite vanish. 

Mr. Duck Lover seemed to seize onto your words, scrambling between your legs, though his excitement from earlier was starting to wane. “I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured, leaning close, fingers hesitating on the curves of your hips, as if battling his own mind. His face hovered near your core, yet he seemed frozen in place, like he was staring into the void rather than your body. 

It was quite a comical sight. 

If you weren't in the picture, that is. 

There he was—his head bowed at your centre, practically on the verge of a self-reflective breakdown. While you laid there, spread out and ready, and he was having an existential crisis. 

You sighed, raising an eyebrow as he muttered to himself, “I can do this,” almost like he was about to leap off a bridge instead of…well, pleasing you. His hands twitched as his hands hovered over your hips, eyes squeezing shut in concentration as if gearing up for some monumental challenge. 

By now, the mood had evaporated, leaving behind only the lingering awkwardness of his whispered self-encouragement. Five seconds later, you realized that, yes, you’d completely lost the heat of the moment, and this was likely going nowhere but more awkwardness. 

You reached out gently, brushing his cheek. “Hey…maybe we should…” you started softly, hoping to ease him off this self-imposed, anxious ride and spare you both whatever spiral he was about to go down. 

His eyes snapped to yours, full of a pleading, vulnerable intensity, his lips parted and his gaze almost desperate. “No, no, I can do it!” His voice trembled, and he bit his lower lip, the slightest twitch in his left eye betraying his nerves. “It’s just been….” 

You softened, trying to help him find the words. “Years?” 

“Centuries,” he murmured, looking away as if confessing a secret. 

Centuries. The realization hits you with a strange thrill. You liked older men, sure, but you wondered how long he had stayed in Hell for. “Oh…” was all you managed, feeling the surreal weight of the moment. 

“May I?” he asked, his voice a tender murmur, fingers twitching, hesitant to touch you. You could only nod, slightly taken aback that he was asking for permission now, especially after where you'd both already been just minutes earlier. 

The moment his fingers touched your skin, he exhaled deeply, closing his eyes as if relishing the warmth. He pressed a featherlight kiss against the curve of your hip, his touch more gentle than you could have imagined. With each kiss, he drifted lower, his lips tracing delicate patterns along your skin, until he found that sensitive spot just above your core, making you jolt beneath him. 

Your emotions tangled, caught between surprise and pleasure. You’d expected something hasty, careless, but this…this felt almost achingly tender. 

He opened his eyes, the intensity of his gaze softening as his lips brushed against you. Then, slowly, his tongue traced between your folds, a warm, pleasant heat that sent a gasp spilling from your lips. His own groan followed, deep and low, a sound of unrestrained need, as he continued to explore you, his lips and tongue working in gentle, insistent rhythms. 

You bit your lip, mirroring the way he’d done earlier, clutching the sheets as your body arched, heels pressing into the bed. Every reaction you gave seemed to stoke something in him, drawing another low, desperate moan from his throat. He rocked his hips against the mattress, as if drinking each of your gasps, as if they were fuelling his own desire. 

“Ah—D-don't stop,” you whimpered, your chest rising as your back arched from the bed. But he didn’t let you escape, his lips chasing every inch of you. His mouth closed around your sensitive nub, sucking gently before he dipped his tongue to explore further, the alternating sensations sending you spiralling. 

Your breath came ragged and broken, each wave of pleasure building faster as he licked and sucked with an almost feverish devotion. His own body responded in turn, his hips grinding against the bed, the friction drawing needy, guttural sounds from him that only fed your own pleasure. 

The rhythm intensified, and just as you thought you might break from the mounting sensation, he pressed deeper, his tongue a soft, insistent force. You clenched around the bliss rising within you, every muscle tensing, as he held you there, relishing every sound, every tremor of pleasure that passed between you both in the heady, dizzying night. 

“Shit,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, fingers tightening as you pulled him closer. His lips pressed even harder against you, and you felt yourself unravelling, teetering on the edge of something wild and raw. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, your legs bending as the fire in your belly coiled tighter. Then, with one last fierce suck and an indulgent lick, he shattered your restraint. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, tearing a ragged cry from your throat as it flooded every inch of your body. 

He moved with you, his own hips shifting as if in sync with the rhythm of your climax, his mouth still sealed to you, eager to take in every tremor and quake of your release. His hand slipped beneath him, the hurried motion of his strokes intensifying, his fingers relentless as he chased his own peak while lingering over every pulse and shudder of yours. 

He moaned against you, his mouth vibrating with his own mounting pleasure, his hips twitching as he hit his release just after yours. His strokes slowed, tapering off as he gasped, his lips finally releasing you as his chest heaved. He knelt there, breathless, lips glistening from the shared passion, drenched by the evidence of his pleasure pooling between you. 

But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he crawled up beside you, eyes softened as he reached for you, arms wrapping tenderly around your shoulders, guiding you to rest your head against his chest. You stayed there, uncertain yet draped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His heartbeat pounded against your ear, each beat so fierce you couldn’t tell if it was his or your own. 

His hand drifted up to brush your hair back, fingers combing gently as his breathing settled into a steady rhythm with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, then another to the crown of your head, his lips lingering as if they held some unspoken affection, each kiss like a vow. 

“You were wonderful, dear,” he whispered, his voice a low, affectionate murmur, pressing another soft kiss to your hair. He stayed there, his arms cradling you, showering you with gentle kisses, an unexpected tenderness weaving around you both in the aftermath, grounding you in a warmth that felt real, if only for this moment. 

“I'm not sure how to even respond to that” you murmured, your mind still a haze, struggling to piece itself back together in the lingering aftershocks of your release. His fingers brushed tenderly along your cheek, and when you looked up, his eyes were warm, soft, his gaze holding an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. 

“You’re perfect,” he said, tilting your chin up, his voice thick with emotion. His lips pressed gently to yours, lingering as if he wanted to etch this moment into his mind. “You’re everything I want and more.” His voice cracked, barely a whisper, before he pulled you against his chest, his arms tightening around you with a fervency that felt almost desperate, as if he were holding on to something he couldn’t bear to lose. 

The raw affection in his embrace left you spinning. He held you as if you were his—an intimacy that felt foreign and startling. You’d just met him, after all. Yet here he was, clinging onto you as if you were more than a passing connection, as if you meant something deeper, something that couldn’t be dismissed. It was unnerving, a stark contrast to what you’d expected. 

Your eyes drifted to the shadowed portrait in the corner of the room, catching the faint outline of the woman in it—a powerful figure with curling horns and a smile that was as beautiful as it was unsettling. Whoever she was, she lingered here, like a ghost following his every step, a reminder of a past not fully left behind. 

But then, he murmured into your hair, “I love you. Please… don’t go.” His voice was fragile, almost broken, and his arms wrapped around you even tighter, his head pressing against yours, as if the strength of his embrace alone could keep you with him. 

There were many reasons people used Cinder. Some were looking for a thrill, some for a fleeting escape, some for connection in a moment that might otherwise feel empty. Maybe that was all this was, a bandage to the wound of loneliness he didn’t want to admit to, a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages. 

You hesitated, your hands resting limply against his back. This wasn’t what you’d come for; it wasn’t what you’d expected. But then, you could feel his frame trembling beneath your touch, the vulnerability in his grip as if he’d waited lifetimes to feel the comfort of another. Gently, you placed a hand on his back, feeling the way he drew in a shaky breath. 

“I won’t,” you whispered softly, almost to yourself, your voice filling the quiet between you.  “I’m here for you.”  

It was a lie, but a beautiful lie, nonetheless. 

At your words, he shuddered, holding you tighter, his trembling easing as if you’d just unlocked something buried within him.  

You were just a passing soul, but at this moment, maybe that was enough. 

[possiblyunhinged]

So, if I’ve not made it clear enough on the website – I’m a mess. I felt desperately sad seeing the news about Liam Payne this morning. It’s not because I grew up with One Direction and had an image of the man. I was too uptight and pretentious to allow myself to listen to them when they came around. Instead, the amount of content I’ve seen from people celebrating his death because of how he treated others slammed a trigger in my head that has been screaming at me ever since. All I can think about is a child I don't know who has to live in a world where many people are celebrating his Dad's death.

It’s a collective mental illness to oversimplify everything and use it to project our dissatisfaction with our own experiences in life. I’m as guilty of it as apparently the whole of Twitter. I’m a wounded person who would do anything to feel, well, less wounded. Unfortunately, that can manifest as being a hateful little roach. I desperately want to live in a world where women aren’t subject to abuse from men in such high numbers, and oftentimes, I am so reactive to the topic that the idea of humanizing abusers seems repulsive to me because it’s often used to justify the suffering of victims and keep them quiet.

Many times, I don't want to humanize abusers because it feels like the very reason justice is seldom acquired for victims. However, without doing so, we don't solve any problems.

I lost my dad when I was 19—a man I should’ve hated but never did. A man whose death was nothing more than a flippant gotcha moment to many, whilst it was the most painful moment of my life.

At 28, 9 years after my dad passed away, I feel desperately sad for a child who is going to grow up in a world where, hours after his dad passed away, the world is arguing whether it’s a ‘good’ thing he is dead, whether that is what his dad deserved. On top of that, a world where it took hours for videos and photographs of his dad to end on the internet.

My Dad, who I mourn to this day, was an abuser. I witnessed him be abusive to my Mum up until I was ten years old. I hated myself when he left because I missed him. How could I miss a person who hurt my Mum to the point I had to leave notes under her pillow because I was scared that she would kill herself? What kind of person did that make me? It’s supposed to be a good thing that he left, the sign of the end of a life of having to hold your breath – but it wasn’t.

Out of acknowledgment that I’m projecting my nonsense onto somebody else’s suffering, had my dad been a public figure who had been ‘called out’ online by somebody, his death would’ve also been celebrated.

My cousin responded to finding out my dad had died of cancer as ‘good, serves him right’. My Dad inflicted suffering on my Mum, Brother, and me that fundamentally affects how we engage with the world now. I don’t trust men. I don’t think I ever will. I shudder when they put their arm around me, and I have been in a state of hypervigilance most of my life because of what he has done.

Yet my dad is still the most significant loss of my life.

I love my dad to this day, and I miss him so much it makes my tummy ache – go figure. He put the fear of God into me throughout my life, but he was also a man who would hold my hand on the way to school. The sound of him belly-laughing to Phoenix Nights in the living room would lull me to sleep most nights. He’s the man who would put me on his shoulders, and I’d see the world from the dazzling heights of six-foot-five. He’s the man who’d brush my hair every day, pathetically so out of fear of causing me pain (ironic, I know). He was a man who would eat whatever monasteries I’d bake him and pretend he’d like it as my Mum would laugh her arse off behind me. He’s the man I’d look across the table to at family gatherings and feel less alone, less like an alien – because he was often the only place I felt a sense of belonging—a place I never found elsewhere.

My dad was also the man who'd cry when he thought I wouldn't notice when we were watching TV, and all I could do was rest my head on his tummy in the hope that he knew that I loved him.

He was a bad person who spun his own childhood trauma into somebody else’s. And I wish I had lived in a world that helped people like my dad before they became the villains in somebody else’s stories, so he could’ve just been the dad I loved so much without an Asterix in sight.

By many on the internet’s standard, people like my dad dying is something to be celebrated. This is a lazy approach to such complex problems. If the dream is to live in a world where hurt people don’t end up hurting others, then it’s not going to solve itself in this one—one so void of compassion.

I feel very me me me posting this, but honestly, I wish some people would remove their heads from their arse on the internet. We are seldom more civilized than the crowds of people who'd gathered in the past to watch public executions; we relish in others' suffering if we can frame it as being just. And then, when it's too late, people backtrack on their cruelty and reflect briefly before moving on to the next.

It's tiring to see this process being framed as virtuous. There is nothing virtuous about it.

[florencwrites]

ignoring is bliss 〚technoblade〛

in which [reader] struggles with her lover's inconsequent affection, and a good talk is unfortunately inevitable; the silent treatment has never worked well with techno.

"I don't know what you want me to say." His back had still been turned towards me at this point, the rake heavy in my hands as I tried using it to steady myself in the muddy stable. He kept loading dirty plucks of hay onto his pitchfork, the thinly lined buttoned shirt he was wearing easily letting his back muscles shine through.

I stood silently behind him, deliberating my words thoroughly. I hated when he acted like this, I absolutely despised him. He was one of the smartest men I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, however, the second things went sideways conversation-wise he always played it painfully personally. He would start correcting my grammar or suggest synonyms for otherwise satisfactory sentences. "I don't either."

"I guess that marks the end of this conversation." He turned around to dump his gathered muck in the makeshift wheelbarrow Phil had built us. His face was hard, his brows furrowed and his features lax. He seemed indifferent, his attitude scaring me to pieces.

"Tech, please." I tried, putting one of my hands up to gesture for him to stop walking. He was now barely lifting the barrow from the ground, ready to head off to the dump. He huffed, his eyes meeting the floor as he put the wagon down. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

"I'm sorry," I muttered softly.

He ducked to grip his hands around the handles again, lifting it from the ground. His knuckles were white where they held onto the leather-covered grips. "Speak up."

"I want to have a conversation with you, okay? Stop acting so fucking stuck up and talk to me." His shoulder brushed past mine as he exited the stables, my voice was high in emotions, definitely on the verge of breaking with desperation.

He snorted. "I'll listen to whatever you have to say when you've calmed down."

-

"He won't talk to me, Phil." I groaned almost obnoxiously loud, taking a sip of water to wash down both my dinner and my agitation. "You know how he gets."

"All pissy? Tell me about it." He chuckled softly, his forearm shielding his bowl from my sight. He shoveled another spoonful of beef stew into his mouth. Phil and I had never been extraordinarily close, he reckoned Techno and me to be undeserving of each other. A terrible pair. And perhaps we were, at times like this I couldn't help but doubt whether or not we truly were the destined lovers we often thought ourselves to be. "I'll bring him some food later."

I laughed at him, a father at heart. A father to anyone but his actual sons, really. A playful grin on my lips, "You're an enabler, Phil."

-

That night I crawled into an empty bed. One I hadn't even doubted would be just that; empty. He was weak like that, he'd do anything to avoid conflict. Whether that was because he was afraid of what his blinding rage fits would conjure, or whether he was just an impotent coward. Someone who didn't know how to act around uncertainty and immorality and thus resorted to blaming everything on his treacherous temper.

The sheets still smelled of him, I held them to my nose.

There was no reason for us to fight, I hadn't meant to start one. I simply wanted him to realize how different he acted towards me when surrounded by any crowd. He acted so distant it made me doubt not only us, but myself. My heart ached anytime he pulled his hand away from where I tried leaving him a subtle touch. My skin crawled when he no longer referred to me by the mild, but unmissably warm names he had for me.

However, nothing would ever hurt me as much as meeting his eyes in a room of our friends and seeing the love seep from his irises. Physically witnessing his affection turn into nothing short of mere acquaintance.

Everyone knew us. There was no reason for him to act so cold, so distant. Though, I also recognized that perhaps there was an underlying reason. One I simply hadn't thought of, or perhaps one that I couldn't ever imagine. One that he had retained from his troublesome past.

The thing is, it hurt me to think he didn't trust me enough with his reasoning. That he didn't want to tell me about his thoughts. I'd been extremely careful and meticulous with any information he'd granted me, I was sure to never let what he told me change my opinion of him. I vowed to never look at him any different.

So, why could he not promise me the same?

-

There was no point in pushing myself from my sheets the next morning. I knew how long his episodes usually lasted, I wouldn't even have to try talking to him for at least two more days. Normally, I'd try, though. I'd sit in the grass right next to where he was working outside, just talking to him about anything and everything I could think of. Back then I thought for his silence to mean confusion, I thought his swirling mind simply needed a break. That a distraction would do him good.

I sat in the barely-molten grass for hours, never getting a reply.

His smell was constricting my airways slowly, every inhale making it harder and harder to breathe. What if Phil was right, what if he truly didn't love me, or not anymore at least? What if it was all an act to have a warm body to fall asleep next to, to have an extra set of hands around the cottage.

I kicked at the sheets, desperate to get them away from me, to get them from clinging to my sweaty body. I only tangled my legs further into the mess. The bed creaked loudly against the wooden floor of the attic, a gust of wind running through a small gap in the roof.

I shot up, finally being able to rid my body of the sheets. I huffed a few times, the annoyance getting the better of me. I slung my legs over the side of the bed, now just sitting on the wooden frame, letting my eyes wander over the walls. The pictures of us that were tightly tacked to the planks, photos of our favorite pets and our best of friends. Photos of us with Phil and Tommy, and even a stray photo of me and Wilbur, back when we were kids.

My gaze found its way towards the singular window behind our bed, the only one of two walls that weren't entirely slanted. His red robe stood out like a sore thumb in the feeble blanket of slushy snow that had been slowly accumulating over the course of the night. Summer was officially over once again, and the cold would soon make it so we could no longer afford to sleep alone.

He rarely wore his robe outside of special occasions, he usually would simply opt for one of his brown ones. One was trimmed with a thick deer fur, the leather on it sure to keep all frost out. The other one was his summer one, the more dirty one of the two. It was always stained with blood, since it would also be the one he went hunting with. He disliked hunting in the winter, the harsh winds and easily discernible prints made it no fun, according to him. He stacked up during the summer, drying his meats to allow them to be kept safe for months, if not years.

But now he was wearing his red robe, lined with the finest of polar bear fur. The one that had the special compartments for his potions, and the one I had sown a totem into. For good luck. He rarely wore it for any occasion but war.

He pushed himself from the ground, turning around swiftly; the velocity making his cape whisk dramatically up in the wind. His eyes seemed fixated on the ground until they unwarrantedly shot up to the window I was sitting at. Any other day, I would've averted my gaze. Not now. He knew I was staring, and he was allowed to know so. I held my eyes on him until his feet carried him out of sight, into the house. I sighed softly, I felt entirely forlorn without him, without his caring hands and loving eyes. I let myself fall back into the bed, cuddling the sheets once again as I curled away from the entrance. I reckoned he would have to change out of his robe soon, and I didn't want to face him when he did.

-

I heard the front door slam, and as predicted the rungs of the many ladders soon creaked in his hold. The worn, practically ancient, trapdoor was pushed ajar behind me. I couldn't be bothered to turn to meet his eyes. However, instead of quietly changing out of his clothes, I felt the bed dip. He sat on the side of it, much alike to how I had found myself just minutes before.

"I don't like feeling weak." His voice was rougher than usual, it kept its usual monotone aura, but for some reason, it felt more emotional than ever before. He cleared his throat as if to try and mask it, to no avail, "I don't love you any less."

I shifted in the bed, though, he quickly stopped me, "Don't look at me, that just makes it harder."

I obliged. He let out a trembling sigh, taking his sweet time to deliberate his next words, "Sometimes we are outside together and I'm afraid that when they see how much I care about you, they will realize that you make me weak." I stared at the wall, still curled into the blankets. I wanted nothing more than to hold his face, look at him as he spoke. Instead, I had to make do with the pictures of his face plastered on the wood. His pointy, flappy ears and peaked nose. The two sharp-looking fangs set in the corners of his lips, ones that seemed to disappear when he smiled. He didn't like smiling for pictures, I didn't have a single one of the two of us together where he smiled. The only ones that showed his beautiful pearly whites were the ones that had me behind the camera, something I only then realized might've not been a coincidence.

"It scares me to think they could hurt you for loving me, that's why I don't like holding your hand in town." I shot a quick look over my shoulder, his back was slouched over, his head in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. He wasn't crying, he simply seemed lost."I never realized that what scares me even more is the idea of you not loving me at all."

I slowly crept from under the sheets as his words fell silent. I crawled over towards where he was sat, near the foot-end of the bed. I took one of his hands from where he had rested his face on it and pulled it out of the way.

I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling my body into his. I draped my legs over his lap as I held him. His built arms felt tender against my exposed back, however, he held me tight. He squeezed softly as another quivering breath escaped his lips. We sat in embrace for a while.

"That's all I asked for, Tech." I smiled into his neck. "I just wanted to talk, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"Shut up." He playfully tried pushing me away from his torso, underestimating the power of my cling. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

[shroudcore]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers. 

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now. 

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar. 

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course. 

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well. 

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level. 

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it. 

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to: 

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer. 

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and  met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours. 

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes. 

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged. 

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again. 

They loved you. And Idia was no different. 

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten. 

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved. 

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…” 

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?” 

“No…” 

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you. 

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words? 

He looked away. 

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe. 

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?” 

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway. 

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that. 

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him. 

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?” 

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble? 

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case). 

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him? 

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride. 

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors. 

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood. 

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head. 

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there. 

Help… oh no…

2m… 

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho… 

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left. 

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace. 

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit. 

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back. 

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good. 

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck. 

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory. 

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve. 

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground. 

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-” 

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself. 

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand. 

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!” 

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again. 

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!” 

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter. 

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside. 

“You left me there!” Idia huffed. 

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!” 

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.  

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it.  I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise. 

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care. 

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway. 

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did. 

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day. 

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point.  But if you have time, I could go on forever. 

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him. 

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that. 

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend. 

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself. 

Oh, and enjoy your new manga. 

Your best raid teammate, 

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was. 

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same. 

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again. 

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning. 

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!” 

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all. 

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!” 

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!” 

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved. 

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit. 

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little. 

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together. 

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics  were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios. 

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light. 

THE END. 

~

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback! 

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” 

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: May 15th Part 1

It’s been longer than usual since our last answer session, so I’m answering a ton of questions today! It’s so big I split it into two parts. Thank you for the patience on getting a response to these.

Thanks for reaching out to us with your questions and kind words ^^!

Sorry if this has been asked before or isn't something you can say but is there anyway for Cove to confess in step 4? I wanted him to confess in step 3 and followed all the steps to make him do it but ended up texting my family instead of Cove at the end.

Yeah, Cove can confess in Step 4!

Hello! I heard that Cove is on the spectrum, albeit undiagnosed. As someone who is ND, this makes me UNBELIEVABLY happy. I literally was brought to tears! Thank you for that!

Out of curiosity, will Cove be diagnosed in Step 4? I have a strong feeling y’all won’t make it a HUGE deal/make it out to be negative, so I’m not worried about that whatsoever! I’m just curious just he’ll off handedly mention it? Or will it just not be touched upon at all (which is ok!)?

Either way is ok, I’m just curious!

I’m happy it made you happy! Admittedly, Cove simply being someone with autism that grew up not being diagnosed was something I included for myself. I didn’t really think anyone would notice or ask about it, aha. But players did start to have questions about his traits, so I started to talk about it outside of the game. It’s great to see it get such a positive response and now I do feel like having it be a non-topic may have been the wrong choice and bringing it up would’ve been good in terms of having positive representation for that. I don’t know if I’ll find a way to mention it in Step 4 now, with how far along the game is, but I am at least thinking about it when originally it wasn’t something I really even considered.

Hey!  Just wanted to say thank you for Our Life.  It's been a bright spot and a needed escape in what's otherwise been a crummy year.  I know you just did a Q&A post but I figured I'd ask anyway.  Was just curious about Step 4.  Will it be similar to the other Steps in that it consists of several different moments or will it just be one long sequence?

Step 4 is shorter than the prior Steps because it’s just an epilogue rather than a full arc of a story. It’ll consist of scenes that all happen in a set row one after the other. There won’t be a collection of Moments to choose from. But it’ll still be very sweet and fun.

¡hola!, you see, first I want to say that I love Our Life! (°◡°♡) and I have 2 important questions, would Cove cry watching titanic? and what is the saddest part according to him? (sorry for my english) 

Titanic would make him cry. He’d probably think the parts showing people who aren’t able to make it to the life boats/are choosing to stay and go down with the ship were the saddest.

Hello, I wanted to ask how much you earn with creating games? Like is it possible to make a living? Thank you >< <3 

How much I earn varies a lot month to month based on Steam sales, Patreon backers, and how many projects are in full production at the time. It’s also hard to say how much I make historically, since that also changes dramatically year by year. But I do earn enough to work on these games full time! I really appreciate all the support that allows me to do that.

Hey!! I was wondering for the 18+ Our Life moment, will there be an emphasis on safety/comfort for all involved? I feel like there  would be just going off of what the rest of the game is like, but I wanted to ask 

Yes! Cove is a nervous boy himself and also super cautious about doing anything the MC doesn’t like, so clear consent from both is absolutely needed for anything to happen. It’s a conversational sexy times Moment with stops/starts so the two can talk about how they’re feeling, rather than a heat of the moment just going for it kind of thing.

Hey!! I was wondering how long the wedding dlc would be? Will it be broken up into moments, or just one big event? 

It’s one long series of scenes all in a row rather than a collection of Moments to pick from. It’s the shortest and the least expensive of all the DLCs. It’s not super crucial to get and those who aren’t into big weddings can totally skip it without worry.

HELLO AMAZING DEVS 👋 i am hopelessly in love with the worst guy ever (jeremy king) and because of this i have a really stupid question: does he really hate people who are nice to him? TvT he’s too cute to be mean to istg it’s a miracle JB held the urge to be consistently nice to him bc just look at his FACE he is so cute! thank you for jeremy’s route it’s so lovely (and awful bc he’s scum 11/10) it gave me so much laughs LMAO i hope you guys have a good day!! 

Haha, thank you. He doesn’t hate them but he’s certainly not pleased with them. Jeremy is either uncomfortable with or annoyed by people being sweet on him, depending on how they approach it. He’s far more comfortable with jerkiness. It lets him relax and he can be himself without it being a problem, since he’s also a jerk. He feels a level of guilt being such a little punk to kind people, not enough to be a better person but still.

Has Cove dated or been interested in someone other than MC? 

Nope! He stays single over the course of the game if he’s not with the MC.

Is Step 4 more mature? Or it's gonna be set in similar atmosphere as Step 3? 

Step 4 is a similar atmosphere as Step 3. Though, it’s actually kind of less mature-topic heavy than Step 3 since it’s just a ‘hey, let’s check in on the gang to see what they’re up to’ style epilogue rather than a story arc with serious issues.

will there be new music for now and forever?? or will the old our life music be reused? 

It’s gonna be a brand new soundtrack. We’ll be opening up a job position for that soon.

Hi, is it okay if we use the assets in Our Life (like the sprites) for fanworks or fan content content, like edits? 

Sure! Just as long as you don’t use the assets made by those artists to make money.

Quick clarification on Step 3 choices: I hope I didn't come off rude (because I LOVE the game, really!!), I was just curious because the intro threw me off at times. For example, you could choose how you felt about Elizabeth in Step 2 (Dinner), but during the Step 3 intro, it says that you got closer to Liz and I didn't get a choice in it. 

For the example, it can’t be helped that you’re closer to Liz in Step 3 than you were in Step 2 because she’s inherently closer to the MC regardless of whether you liked her or not in Step 2. Her feelings are out of your control and the game isn’t so dramatic that you can push her affection away and not let her bond with you, haha. But ‘being closer’ can still be relative. For some people maybe that means you’re best buds now and for others it might just mean you’re not fighting all the time any more. If there’s other parts you want to mention, feel free to let us know.

Did the illustrator for Our Life change? 

We have many OL artists! The main artists who set the game’s style haven’t changed, but there’s multiple other artists who help finish assets.

So Miranda's type is confident and outgoing, huh? So...does that mean Terri's her type?? 👀 

Haha, sorry for the late reply on this. As you might’ve seen in our post yesterday- yeah that is her type.

Hey! First, I just want to say I've really enjoyed how detailed OL got with gender identity and sexuality and how respectful the topics were handled! It's been so wonderful to play since the experiences could be close to my own (I'd be lying if I said I didn't tear up at parts). Second, I was wondering, would future games explore the topic of polyamory? I'd love to see more visual novels allow room for that and I saw you've explored the topic before.

Keep up the amazing work! ♡

Thank you! We do want to include polyamory in at least some of our future projects. Floret Bond, which might be what you’re referring to when mentioning how we’ve explored the topic before, is on hold unfortunately. So right now I’m not sure when something might release or what will be the first game of ours to come out with poly relationships (we might do something else before FB is done). We’ll have see how things ends up coming together.

Hey um. I feel like im not allowed to ask this on the private discord cuz people will yell at me but why is there so much focus on OL2 and not finishing OL1 stuff? I like the new people but i kind of want to finish cove's story and get derek and baxter stuff first. didn't people pay for it? 

I’m sorry, I don’t understand entirely what’s making that situation a concern. There’s a channel in the discord for critique where no one is allowed to comment back. People can voice things they’re worried about without any way for others to push back on it. And the two teams working on the OL games are different. We try to post pretty often about how we’re hiring brand new people to start on Our Life: Now & Forever. The OL1 team is all still working on OL1 like normal. There’s only more updates on the Patreon for OL2 because the expansions to the first game are mostly script-based at this point while OL2 is just starting to get all its art, which means there’s a lot more to show off as previews.

Also, there was a Kickstarter for the first Our Life, if that’s what you mean by people paying for it. But one of the stretch goals was to start Our Life 2 early, before fully completing Our Life 1, so that the new game could be out sooner. It wouldn’t make sense to stop doing OL2 work because that would be going against what backers were promised. Maybe you didn’t get the full story before and hopefully this clears it up!

Hello! I know it's up to every player but.. What is your recommendation for playing order? Did you ever had any timeline  events planned? 

I didn’t make the events with a planned timeline. The events got made simply as I had ideas for them and then I just kind of organized them from left to right on the screen in an order to space out more dramatic ones between more lighthearted ones. Any order the player wants to go with is totally valid!

Hi! It's Step 4 a paid dlc or update? And how long it's planned to be? Ps. Love the game! 

The Step 4 epilogue is free! The Cove Wedding DLC does cost money, though. Those are planned to be shorter than the usual Steps/DLCs.

Will we have options for what sort of job the MC might have by the time step 4 takes place? 

Yeah, you can. It’s not super exact or detailed, but there are options about it.

Is there a pandemic in Our Life world, or is it just in a better timeline with no pestilence? 

Our Life is pandemic-free! That didn’t exist when we began working on the project and it’s not something we’d like to feature in this story now that it has unfortunately come along, aha.

Hi, you said that you can play tic-tac-toe or hangman with Cove in Boating if you're sick/scared but I keep getting tic-tac-toe. Am I doing something wrong?

After being sick/scared you have to continue to be upset/unwell. If you calm down and decide to just chill you’ll end up playing tic-tac-toe.

Hi, GB Patch! Since Lee was initially commissioned to only appear in two Steps does this mean she won't appear in the Wedding DLC? I really like her character so it'll be a little weird to not have our cousin at our wedding, aha.

She is gonna be in Step 4/the wedding DLC after all! We’re still working with her creator to make sure it fits with what they wanted.

Is Sunset Bird based on a real place? Asking for a friend, not trying to move there or anything. 👀

It’s based on small beach towns in So-Cal, but not one specific town you could go see in real life, I’m afraid. It’d be nice if it was real, though.

—– —– —– —–

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

[cuddlepilefics]

Hug me again, I don't feel good

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jeongin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

Prompt: Fever @sicktember

No one’s POV.:

Stray Kids members always tended to drown their maknae in affection and although he always pretended to hate it, Jeongin secretly liked it. As long as the didn’t undermine his independence that is. Him pretending to hate their hugs, led to the members toning it down a bit, only going full out when they were in a teasing mood and felt like going on their youngest’s nerves. Today they had had to get up early, having a packed schedule ahead of them and not having slept much, the mood ranged from sleepy to grumpy. Jeongin certainly fell into the latter category. He wasn’t usually moody when he was tired but when he was woken up this morning, he felt more exhausted than he had when going to bed the previous night. As soon as they were in the car, he leaned his head on Hyunjin’s shoulder, dozing off again. Considering it was a rather long drive, most of them were trying to get a few more moments of shut eye. Their day would start with a photo shoot, followed by an interview and an afternoon of dance practice. To say Jeongin wasn’t looking forward to it would have been an understatement. He didn’t mind the photo shoot, which was comparably the least tiring activity of the day. The interview wasn’t too bad either but he really dreaded their dance practice, feeling too tired to move. Maybe he’d just need to wake up properly and he’d feel more energized over the course of the day.

While they took turns getting their make-up done, the group slowly started to come to life more. Chan had had his second coffee of the day, making the mistake of getting Felix one too, who was now going through a variety of fortnite dances and hyping Jisung up. The rapper didn’t even need coffee to go crazy, merely someone else he was sharing a braincell with. Together the two tried their hardest to get a reaction from Changbin by annoying him but the older kept a straight face, simply ignoring the pair. At some point, even Chan joined them. Minho and Hyunjin had originally started planning their dance practice but had soon gone over to teasing each other, which escalated to Minho threatening his dongsaeng. Seungmin and Jeongin really seemed like the most normal ones in the group. On other days, Jeongin might have joined his hyungs, having fun and fooling around but today he just couldn’t seem to shake his sleepy haze. Maybe he should get himself a coffee too, since it seemed to have worked wonders on Chan and Felix. Unfortunately, the photo shoot started before Jeongin had the chance to get coffee but the boy pushed the thought away. Busying himself would certainly do the trick too.

The photo shoot didn’t go as well as Jeongin would have liked. Usually, he had no issues with the bright lights surrounding him but they sure made the temperature on set toasty. The maknae was sweating much more than he was used to during photo shoots, even having to get his make-up retouched multiple times. This wasn’t like him and it was humiliating. The staff already clicking their tongues at the boy constantly needing his make-up fixed. Aside from the humiliation, Jeongin felt plainly disgusting with his clothes sticking to him. As his mood was dwindling, his discomfort became more apparent to himself and to the photographer, who kept reminding him to smile authentically. How could he smile authentically right now? He was sore from exercising the previous day, he was burning in his skin, his clothes stuck to him and pretty much everyone on set was annoyed with him. No, smiling seemed like the least thing he wanted to do right now, yet Jeongin always smiled. Maybe not as convincingly as usual but he smiled.

The more time passed, the more the hectic surroundings were getting to him. He was pretty much melting in the thick clothes and was slowly developing a headache, with how bright everything was. The flashing lights were worse though, leaving him feeling disoriented as he tried to follow the instructions given to him as fast as possible in hopes of getting things over with. Sweat was beading his forehead but instead of sending him to get his make up retouched once again, the photographer decided to take a few last pictures, which he’d edit later on, before releasing the boy back to the waiting area. A few of the members still needed to get their individual shots taken, so it was rather quiet back there. Jeongin debated removing his make-up completely but he didn’t want to bother anyone to put another full make-up on him for their interview later. This wasn’t his first photo shoot, so why had he been struggling so badly? In a matter of minutes, the smile he had plastered on, faltered and a single tear trailed down his cheek. Then another. Pursing his lips, Jeongin tried his hardest to calm down and hold the tears back. He didn’t want to mess up his make-up even more. The harder he tried though, the harder it got to keep it together. Yet he only allowed himself tiny, quiet sniffles after already being a burden to so many people so early in the day. He just wanted to be professional.

His efforts were in vain though, when Chan entered the waiting area after finishing his shots. He knew his dongsaeng well enough and calmly went over hugging the younger. “What’s up?”, the leader hummed, taking a step back when Jeongin tensed in his arms. The maknae was already sweating and he didn’t want to be touched, feeling as disgusting as he felt at the moment. “Frustrated”, Jeongin muttered, avoiding eye contact with his hyung, “was holding everyone back with how often I needed to get my make-up fixed.” – “It’s alright. Don’t worry, everyone who’s stood under those floodlights will understand. It does get toasty there sometimes”, Chan assured. He knew he’d probably feel the same if he was in Jeongin’s position, so he made a mental note to make sure the boy wouldn’t get teased for it. The maknae had already accepted that crying had ruined his make-up beyond what could be fixed and accepted the make-up wipe his hyung handed him. Still sniffling quietly, he scrubbed at his face to get it all off. He already contemplated what to tell the staff, who’d need to reapply everything for their interview earlier. At some point, he had managed to pull himself together but still looked a bit gloomy, besides, his face had taken a flushed pink shade, probably from how roughly he had rubbed it. Handing him a bottle of water, Chan sighed: “You feeling better now?” Jeongin shrugged. Did he? He was still just as hot as he had been previously and his head still hurt, through he wasn’t as disoriented. It was nice and quiet now, there were less people and it was less bright, so he had probably just gotten overwhelmed earlier. “I think today’s just not really my day”, he pouted, “I feel like I still haven’t managed to wake myself up and my head hurts from all the chaos.” – “Should we go and get you some coffee? Might at least help for the interview”, Chan offered, “Come on, let’s get out of here for a bit.”

Chan took his dongsaeng to a coffee shop nearby. They could have gotten coffee somewhere closer but he wanted to give the younger some space from their work environment. Jeongin however shuddered the moment he stepped foot outside the building. It wasn’t cold outside but the temperature change messed with his body. The maknae didn’t even notice how he started to walk progressively closer to Chan till the older wrapped an arm around his shoulders, asking: “Are you cold?” Jeongin shook his head but was betrayed by another shiver running down his spine. ‘That’s odd’, Chan noted but decided not to point it out. Instead, he just let the younger stay as close as he wanted. That proved to be of great help when Jeongin stumbled, tripping himself and only being saved the fall by the leader’s arms around his middle. “S-Sorry”, he laughed shakily, already tearing up again. “No, it’s okay”, Chan assured, moving away when the younger regained his balance. That resulted in a whine from Jeongin, who moved along, leaning against the Aussie. “Innie, what’s going on?”, the leader frowned worriedly, confused by the maknae’s behavior. Realizing his actions, Jeongin straightened up and mumbled: “Dizzy.” Why couldn’t the other hug him again? It was exactly what he needed right now, with how upset and cold he felt.

From that moment on, Chan kept a very close eye on Jeongin. He really didn’t seem to be himself today. After they had gotten coffee and returned to the venue, the youngest had gotten comfortable against Felix’ side, who absentmindedly ran a hand up and down the younger’s back. Felix noticed how damp and sticky Jeongin’s shirt still was and offered him to get changed into a fresh one. “No, don’t want to take it off. I’m cold”, the maknae protested, catching most of the members’ attention. Shaking his head, Felix sighed: “Yeah, no wonder you are cold. Your shirt is wet. You’ll feel warmer in a dry one.” – “Hyung, can I have your hoodie?”, Jeongin pouted, giving Hyunjin puppy eyes, who was quick to give it to him. By now, all of them had caught on to their youngest acting weird but could they blame him? They had slept so little, none of them could possibly be in their right mind. At least Jeongin seemed satisfied, pulling the long sleeves of the dancer’s hoodie over his palms. Knowing they’d have the interview next, they all filed into the van.

As soon as they were settled, Jeongin cuddled into Minho’s side, the dancer sitting next to him taken a back. It wasn’t usually Jeongin initiating the skinship but that didn’t mean he minded it. Smiling softly, Minho played with the maknae’s hair and studied the younger’s face. His closed eyes seemed a bit puffy, brows furrowed while sweat beaded his forehead and a small droplet dripped down his temple. Not knowing whether the boy was awake, Minho didn’t dare ask Chan if anything had happened while they were gone. Instead he just decided to let the boy rest on him. Looking up, he met eyes with Jisung, who seemed to think the same. Something wasn’t right. When they arrived, Minho went ahead to talk to Chan, leaving a sleepy Jeongin in his seat. Jisung had stayed behind to wait for the younger, linking their arms but still lagging behind. “Is everything okay, Innie? You seem off”, the rapper asked quietly. At this point, the maknae didn’t feel like keeping up appearances anymore and hesitantly admitted: “I kinda feel off.” – “Are you sick? You know we could let you sit out if you’re sick”, Jisung frowned but his dongsaeng was quick to shake his head, muttering: “I don’t think I am. Probably just slept too little and don’t feel like myself.” The older nodded thoughtfully as he guided Jeongin to get his make-up done again.

Jeongin was the only one needing his make-up done, which gave the rest of the group some time to talk. “He isn’t usually that clingy and he just admitted to feeling off”, Jisung informed and Chan nodded, sighing: “He was really emotional earlier and after almost falling over, he said he was dizzy.” – “Don’t you think he might just be tired? He does tend to get more affectionate when he’s tired”, Hyunjin mused looking at Jisung who had talked to their youngest mere minutes before. Nodding, Jisung pointed out: “He doesn’t think he’s sick and told me he slept to little but I need, who hasn’t? Yet he is the only one that out of it.” – “He seemed to be in pain when we drove here”, Minho disagreed, looking at Chan worriedly. The leader shook his head and sighed: “Let’s just wait, I’m sure Innie would talk to us if something was badly wrong.” Not feeling satisfied with that, Seungmin slipped out of the room, to check on his only dongsaeng privately. He quietly stood in the doorway, watching the younger doze off in the chair. “Do you feel alright, Jeongin-ah? Your face feels really warm”, their make-up noona asked, carefully applying a thick layer of concealer under his eyes to cover the lack of sleep. Jeongin smiled a bit and hummed: “I think the bright lights at the photo shoot heated my skin up a bit. I’m okay.” Seungmin however was only more convinced that the younger was not. Especially now that somebody else was sensing something off as well.

When his make-up was done, the make-up noona glanced at Seungmin and smiled before leaving the two boys alone to talk. “Hey”, Seungmin hummed, sitting down next to Jeongin, “How do you really feel? Something’s not right.” That was enough to bring the younger to tears again and he chewed on his lip, desperately trying to not ruin his make-up again. “H-hyung, I -I don’t know”, he breathed. He cursed himself, why did he have to be so emotional today? When he didn’t elaborate further, Seungmin got up and pulled Jeongin into a hug. He too noticed the heat radiating off the maknae and gently brushed his hand against the boy’s forehead, calmly asking: “Can you describe what you feel? Maybe we can make sense of it.” Jeongin nodded and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “I-I just feel really out of it, like I still haven’t woken up since this morning although I’ve been up for hours and even had coffee with Channie-hyung. My head hurts since the photo shoot and I keep sweating although I’m not hot at all anymore. I’m pretty cold actually”, he admitted with shaky hands, “For some reason I don’t feel really steady on my feet and kinda dizzy and I’m really sore from exercising yesterday. Could – could you hug me again? I don’t feel good.” Seungmin complied instantly, hugging the younger tightly and whispering: “I think you’re sick, Innie. To me it feels like you’re sporting quite a fever, which would explain why you feel the way you feel.” – “I can’t – I can’t be sick. My stomach feels perfectly fine, so it couldn’t be a stomach bug but my nose and throat are perfectly fine too, so it couldn’t be a cold either. None of this makes sense, why does nothing make sense?”, Jeongin whimpered, getting worked up again. “Shh, some bugs come only with a fever but that doesn’t make you any less sick. Does that make sense?”, Seungmin soothed, running his hand up and down the younger’s back. Sniffling quietly, the maknae nodded. Unwrapping himself from his dongsaeng, Seungmin smiled: “Alright, let’s go to the others and see what we’ll do about it, yeah?”

He pulled Jeongin to his feet too but the boy stumbled as soon as he was upright, crashing into Seungmin’s chest. Luckily, the older was quick to react and tightened his arms around the maknae, holding him steady while they waited for the dizzy spell to pass. Then they walked back to the room where the rest of the group was waiting. “Hyung, Innie’s sick and running a fever”, Seungmin announced as they walked up to Chan. Pressing the backs of his fingers against Jeongin’s forehead, the leader frowned: “You’re burning. Why didn’t you say anything?” – “I-I …” – “Hyung, we pieced it all together just now. He wasn’t aware”, Seungmin explained, reassuringly holding the younger’s hand. Jeongin nodded, face crumpling as Chan pulled him into a hug. “Do you want to wait here for us to finish the interview?” – “N-no, I can do it. They don’t have many questions for me anyway”, the youngest insisted. Minho joined them, agreeing: “We can cover for him, he just has to sit and look pretty. It’d be more frustrating to be dragged here for nothing. Afterwards we’ll take you home, yeah Innie?” – “No, I want to go with you”, Jeongin whined, always hating to be alone when he was feeling poorly. “We’ll see about that, let’s just get this interview over with”, Chan settled, seeing that it was their time to go on stage.

It went quite well with Jeongin just sitting there in silence. When they walked off the stage though, the maknae broke down, the tears he had held back, now spilling over. Felix was quick to pull him to a quiet corner of the room, cooing: “What’s wrong?” – “Do-Don’t know”, the younger choked out, his voice cracking pitifully. “Just really emotional, huh?”, Jisung hummed, running his hand through Jeongin’s hair. He had followed them worriedly, only getting more worried when the maknae desperately tried to pull himself together but failed. Watching him struggle like this really broke their hearts. Holding his dongsaeng tight, Felix whispered lowly: “You can cry, Innie. Don’t suppress and bottle it up. If you feel like crying, that’s alright, we don’t judge.” The younger nodded, hiding his face against the dancer’s shoulder. Giving them some privacy, Jisung went to get changed. When he was done, Hyunjin had already taken a bunch of make-up wipes and traded places with Felix, so the Aussie could get changed too. “Come on, let’s get your make-up off, so you can sleep. I bet you’re tired”, Hyunjin hummed, gently removing his dongsaeng’s make-up. He did his best to make the younger boy comfortable and couldn’t help but coo at how adorable Jeongin looked in his hoodie.

They got back into the car, where Jeongin settled against Seungmin, shivering slightly. Chan carefully hung his jacket around his youngest dongsaeng’s shoulders and smiled when the boy’s eyes closed. With how exhausted Jeongin was, it came as a surprise to none when the calm movement of the car lulled him to sleep. Not having the heart to wake him, Chan ended up carrying the maknae up to their dorm and to his bed. Minho soon followed them with a bottle of water and fever-reducers, which he placed on Jeongin’s nightstand, along with a note to take them later, when he woke up. When the two oldest members were satisfied their dongaseng was settled, they left the room and got ready for dance practice. Jisung plugged the maknae’s phone in to charge before leaving his roommate to get some rest. While Minho and Hyunjin discussed their dance practice, Felix grabbed a few plushies and took them to Jeongin’s room, so he wouldn’t feel too lonely while they were gone. They were almost ready to leave, originally scheduled to head straight to the company building from the venue of their interview, so they were running a little late. Changbin decided to make one last trip to the bathroom, running a washcloth under cold water and taking it to the maknae’s room. When he gently brushed Jeongin’s hair out of his face, the boy’s eyes fluttered open, disorientedly blinking up at the rapper. “Shh, go back to sleep”, he shushed, carefully spreading the cold compress on his dongsaeng’s burning forehead. He didn’t want to mention the medicine because that would’ve probably woken the younger up completely and they had agreed to let him sleep at all costs. Jeongin would find the medicine when he woke up. Hoping he’d sleep through most of their dance practice, so he wouldn’t feel lonely, Changbin promised: “We’ll be back before you know it.” Then he snuck out of the room and joined the others, eager to get their practice over with and back to the dorm as soon as possible.

[mssirey]

'Maybe the next morning Kara would ask for it. Lena could hope.' I like it too. :) I imagine that maybe Kara did ask. Maybe not that very next day but.. some time after. Makes for a nice thought.

Okay, y’all, I feel like I’m calling myself out for the oral fixation (which I almost just called ficsation and that honestly makes some kind of sense… but I digress). Here are some feels!

Kara was used to noise. Her head was cluttered with it, bombarded at every moment, with every little thing. She had trained herself to withdraw, to let sound fade into the background—an undercurrent she could stay above, no longer drowning in sensation.

But quieting her thoughts was a dangerous game, one that led to missteps and mistakes, leaving too much room for anger and hurt to sneak up on her. Kara needed to be vigilant, constantly present, constantly shouldering the pressures of her mantle, because she would not be the one to feel the consequences if she slipped up—and she didn’t have the stomach for that aftermath.

Packing didn’t fit into that turmoil. Devoting time and thought to the nagging ache in her heart seemed impossible to justify—a selfish pursuit. It took months of mounting distraction to finally acknowledge that by not exploring the draw she felt towards packing, the more antsy and frazzled she became. That was how she managed to reason with her hesitations.

Kara always had an acute sense of herself—the heaviness of her touch, the proximity she had to others, the degree to which she could affect another—but slipping her first packer into a pair of boxer briefs, she was aware of herself in a new way. Even as she struggled to get it to sit flush against herself and contended with the awkwardness as she tried to prod it into proper form, it was thrilling. Her nerves buzzed with excitement, unbound for the breaths she took to stare down at herself.

It shouldn’t have been so euphoric, she found herself noting, and yet just the private expression had her heart fluttering and warm, dizzying almost.

Kara had been alone—Lena’s work demanding her attention—and the gravity that pulled her deeper into her head kept her from noticing that Lena had left her spot in her home office. “Oh,” Lena exhaled from the door to the bedroom, and Kara’s head whipped up.

Kara didn’t mean for her hand to move, didn’t mean to cover herself, but nor did she know how to let her hand drop away from her crotch. She stood frozen, wide eyed and small, shrinking faster than she could help.

“I’m sorry,” Lena broke the silence, but with it came alarm, ringing heavy in Kara’s head. Each thundering beat of her heart called up shame and doubt, and Kara was helpless. All she knew to do was retreat inward—don’t approach, don’t touch, don’t let the turbulence fall on Lena.

But Lena’s heart was steady, if a touch fast, and it drew closer as she walked cautiously into the room. “Hey,” she whispered, gentle in her approach. Kara didn’t move, didn’t speak. She was locked tight, her spine rigid, her jaw aching as her teeth pressed together.

Lena’s hands touched her wrists. “You don’t need to show me until you’re ready,” she promised, “but I’m here, Kara.” Her thumbs soothed along the insides of Kara’s arms, but there was no weight applied, no pressure to move.

Kara’s hands squeezed into fists and she slowly let them ease up, Lena’s hands going with them, staying at her wrists. It was something Lena had adopted from Alex—the understanding that Kara appreciated being held without risking the twitch of her own fingers.

“I’m happy for you, Kara,” she breathed, and Kara stumbled backwards to sit on the bed, Lena letting her go. It was too much to accept at once—far more than she had dared hope for.

She did cry, but not until she was alone.

From there, Kara eased into packing slowly. She was still unsure—not about wanting it, but about whether it was something she deserved, whether it was something she was allowed to prioritize.

Lena took to it surprisingly well, and perhaps that made Kara question why she fussed so much. She couldn’t sort out why she got so delighted, why it felt right to have a cock present between her legs, or even why that was how she wanted to think of it. She struggled to contain her dancing heart as it tried to beat right out of her chest, to stifle the joy that bubbled up within her. She didn’t think it merited her attention, and certainly not Lena’s.

Lena made it abundantly clear she thought differently. She went so far as to put herself between Kara’s legs and take Kara’s cock into her mouth. It sent Kara’s head spinning, her mind blazing until every thought was ash floating in the stillness of her empty skull.

Nothing had ever been so quiet.

Kara breathed without the weight of the world squeezing around her ribs. She looked down at Lena’s blissful little smile, her cock held by perfect lips, and Kara knew relief. It startled her how easy it was, how direct, how simple, but Lena stayed there—anchored Kara in her seat as they basked in that shared calm.

Kara was safe with Lena, and so she allowed herself to want it, invited desire fully into her heart and sat with it, cushioned in Lena’s embrace.

And when Lena pulled back and Kara took her shaft into her hand, her fist wrapping loose around it, she was met with a new thrill. Her cock held the heat of Lena’s mouth and was slick with her saliva, and Kara’s hand jerked smoothly along the length, unconscious in the movement. It felt like a part of her. Her cock. Hers.

It didn’t make sense to her, didn’t fit what she had imagined she might want in life, but she was beginning to understand that it didn’t need to. She could find comfort in her own ways, outside of the expectations ingrained in her.

Kara couldn’t keep Lena between her legs with any permanence, but she let her thoughts wander back to that moment, to the peace and the freedom it had brought her. For days she wished for it, thought of recreating the catalyst in the kitchen, wondering if she could entice Lena.

Kara caught the way Lena looked at her—checked her with discrete glances, stares that lingered a breath too long to be coincidental—but she struggled to decipher the meaning. She was too wishful, and afraid she colored her own perception.

“Kara?”

Kara’s knee jerked up, knocked against the bottom of her coffee mug and almost tipped the contents. She had been jumpy, wound tight by the tireless pull of her thoughts. An acknowledging note choked from her throat.

“You know I liked it, right?”

Kara shifted deeper into the couch, clutched her mug tighter to her body, above where Lena’s gaze fell. “I know,” she insisted, the words rushed and clumsy.

And she did. There was no mistaking the enthusiastic thrum in the air around Lena when she had settled into the space at Kara’s feet, or the barely restrained urgency in her fingers as she had tugged Kara’s joggers down, or the eager way she had nudged closer until Kara felt the weight of her cock lifted by wet lips. She knew Lena enjoyed the time she had spent there, and yet...

“But?” Lena met her eye and cocked her head, a sympathetic frown tugging at her lips.

“I just—“ Kara began, but trailed off. “It feels too good to be true,” she whispered, ducking slightly.

“Was I that good?”

Kara laughed despite herself, full-chested and hearty. Lena offered her a broad grin, and Kara returned it, exhaling some of her worry. “You were perfect,” she sighed, “you always are.”

“Now, now, let’s not get carried away,” Lena chided playfully. Her posture was easy, her frame wrapped in a blanket as she sipped at her own coffee. She looked so cozy, and yet her gaze kept dropping to Kara’s lap, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips behind the rim of her mug.

At that point Kara knew she was denying them both, and that was enough to spur her along a different course. She patted her thigh to beckon Lena to her and the air shifted as heat stirred between them. Lena welcomed the invitation with a brilliant smile and a soft chuckle, and shrugged the blanket from her shoulders.

Kara pushed back with her shoulders to prop herself up and fumbled to get her shorts down, kicking them aside as she righted herself, just in time for Lena’s hands to guide her knees wider. Her head pounded with a heavy beat, her ears echoing the thunder, but it served only to drown out the world around them.

Lena lowered as Kara took herself in her hand, too eager to be perfectly gentle, longing for her shaft to be warm the way Lena’s mouth made it. “Is that comfortable,” she asked, wishing she had thought of it before Lena was on her knees.

Lena just hummed a cheeky little note, shifting to one side, her weight falling against Kara’s leg. She sat and turned until her shoulder fit neatly beneath Kara’s leg, her neck catching around Kara’s thigh, slipping closer.

Kara let her cock go in favor of tucking Lena’s hair behind her ear, continuing the motion with a gentle stroke, repeating it when Lena purred her approval. “Go ahead,” she breathed, but the permission was half for herself—to let go.

The world went quiet as Lena lifted Kara’s cock to her lips and with one last glance to share a blissful smile, she took Kara into her mouth. Her head settled into Kara’s lap and Kara watched her eyes close, and in that moment she could think of nothing more perfect.

Kara was allowed to want, to feel, and there was not a price to be paid for it. She was free to exist as herself, and Lena was there with her, loving her so wholly.

There was no pressure to make the moment sexual, no expectation, no demand—just simple appreciation—and Kara was ready to acknowledge that it made her happy. And as Lena nuzzled closer, sucking softly on her cock, Kara wasn’t afraid to imagine a future where they regularly spent mornings like that.

[deppsessed]

I hate myself for loving you

Pairing: Johnny Depp x Reader 

Anonymous requested: Could you write an imagine where Johnny gets close with another actress? The reader becomes jealous and starts to ignore him.

Authors notes: Pretty much inspired by this song. 

We’d been best friends for years, as long as I can remember. Johnny was one of the constants in my life and I, in his.  We have the same mutual love, affection and appreciation for each other. We see each other a few times a week, whether it’s round at each other's places or going out for dinner. I know that if something is bothering me and I need a shoulder to lean on, he’ll be there, either at my house in a heartbeat or at the other end of a phone wherever he is in the world. There have been times where the lines between being friends or something more have been blurred. While there are times that I could swear that there’s something more to it, we’ve never spoken about it and I’ve never once made a move. He’s my best friend. I wouldn’t want to screw that up or lose him.

Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two... 

Although lately, he’s been testing my patience. The press tour for his latest movie started a good few weeks back, and then came Sophia, his female, stunningly beautiful co-star. Any picture you see with him at the moment has her in it too, whether she’s touching his jacket on a red carpet, laughing too much at something he’s whispered in her ear during a press conference, or being spotted by the paparazzi leaving a restaurant together. The tabloids are going wild for it and are full of headlines about Johnny and his ‘new flame’.

He’s pretty much dumped me and pushed me to the side. I’ll call, and rather than being met with his usual bubbly enthusiasm on the other end, get the very vague response of “It’s a little busy right now, but I’ll call you back”, followed by the half-hearted text a few hours later apologising. On the occasions where we’ve made plans, he’s called me at the last minute to cancel them, but is then pictured with her. 

It hurts, kind of like a dagger being plunged through the heart.

What bothers me the most is that it shouldn’t get to me the way that it does. If he’s met somebody new, then I should be happy for him rather than feeling this anger, this resentment towards him and this intense jealousy of wishing that it was me. 

I'm not really jealous, don't like lookin' like a clown I think of you every night and day You took my heart, then you took my pride away... 

It’s been easier just to cut him out and ignore him. Whenever he calls, I’m either letting it go to voicemail or rejecting it right away. I haven’t been replying to his texts either. You’d think that he’d get the message that I’m trying to ignore him, but if anything, he’s only becoming more and more insistent in trying to get through to me. I’m still going by my gut, he’s hurt me and while I know I can be stubborn, this is going to be the best way to see it through. It’s how I deal with things. 

It’s late at night, pitch black outside and I’m driving home where I see my phone light up in the cigarette tray.

Johnny:  I miss you. 

I let out a sigh and shook my head. I miss him too, it’s painful how much, but it isn’t the point. I can’t be that person that he has in his life when it suits him. 

I get to the bottom of the driveway, ready to turn in when I notice the figure standing right in front of the garage. Of course. Of course, he’s here waiting for me. 

I break hard and honk the horn at him before pulling my window down. “Can you move your ass so that I can park my car?” I yell. On second thought, I don’t care. I’m just in the mood to go down on the excelerator. Oh, how I’m not in the mood to be dealing with this. I  take in a deep breath, sitting there for a minute before bringing the keys out of the ignition, getting out the car and slamming the door behind me. 

“Well, well, look who decided he wanted to make plans with me and even had the decency to show up!” I snap, my eyes narrowing at him in a glare.

“It’s not as if you’ve given me much of a choice, you’ve been ignoring me this past week,” Johnny replies and shrugs his shoulders.

“Maybe you should take a mental note. When somebody does that, it usually means that they don’t want to talk to or see you.” He’s standing in my way, so I push past him rather abruptly to get to the front door. “Take the hint, John. Quit while you’re ahead and get out of here.”

John. He’ll know for a fact that he’s done something wrong now, since I only use it when I’m upset with him. 

“Do I at least get to know what this heinous thing I’ve done to upset you is?”  

I roll my eyes at him and unlock the door before pushing it open. “You know, the fact that you even need to ask says a lot for yourself. I don’t appreciate being something that you have in your life when it’s convenient, and shove to the side when it suits you.”

He blinks, furrowing his eyebrows. It’s almost as if I can see the thoughts going through his head as he’s trying to work out what I’m pushing towards.

“Sophia? We’re just friends. It’s PR. After we’re done with this movie I’m probably never going to see her again. She could never replace you.”

I have to snort at how unphased he’s sounding by it all, as if none of it is a big deal. I think that’s what hurts me the most.

“But she has and you’ve let her.  You dodge me, then when we make plans you cancel them at the last minute and I have to deal with seeing more pictures of the two of you together.” 

He stands there in silence, again as if he’s trying to analyse and work it all out. 

“I don’t know what else to say…” 

“As I said, take the hint, John.” 

I at least feel as if I’ve said my inner peace on the matter. Before he can get another word in, I kick the door shut in his face and make my way into the house. I need a drink. Something strong to take the edge off, because it stings. A large glass of wine does the trick at starting to numb the pain, but it doesn’t in any way stop the tears. I hate that he has this kind of power over me, that makes me feel as if my heart has been ripped out and stamped on. 

I hate myself for loving you Can't break free from the things that you do I wanna walk, but I run back to you That's why I hate myself for loving you… 

I’m not sure how much time has passed when I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of the front door opening, and the footsteps coming up the hardwood floor. Why can’t he just leave it alone?

 “You come back for more? Haven’t you done enough?” I stand up and fold my arms across my chest defensively. He’s stood inches away from me, his dark brown eyes pleading onto mine. I’m sure I look a mess with my reddened face and swollen eyes from crying. 

“I forgot something.” 

If he’s going to say something else to hurt me, then I’d rather he’d get it out and over with, even if I’m not entirely sure if I can handle it. But, what he does next throws me off guard and leaves me even more confused than before. He closes the gap between us and leans in to brush his lips against my tenderly. 

The kiss is soft, his lips feel velvet moving against mine. While his arms slip around my waist, my arms wrap around his neck instinctively, as if it’s where they’re meant to be.

“I’m an idiot,” He breathes, his forehead resting against mine, “I’m sorry--I’m so stupid.”

My heart is a mixture of fluttering in my chest and sinking to my stomach. I didn’t think it would ever be me standing here locked in his arms, or the one that he would be kissing.

“You aren’t allowed to do that. Don’t think you can get away with coming here to kiss me and getting away with walking out the door again.”

Johnny shakes his head firmly without a second's hesitation. “It’s you. It’s always been you. I’ve waited so long for the chance to finally be able to do that.”

Whatever reply I want to give is taken away from me, because he pulls me back into him for another tender kiss, just as breathtaking and magnificent as the first.

[9tzuyu]

children of tragedy [pt.2]

note: hi. i totally did not mean for this to be a filler chapter but thats what it ended up being :(. i hope you guys still like it though. this is mostly natasha x reader (platonic), so maybe that’ll make up for it? lmk your thoughts!

mistakes are mine as always.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse

pt. 1 | pt.3

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (tagged since its nat centric)

when you left in the middle of the night while wanda slept in the other room. you didn’t bother waking her to say your goodbyes, instead wanting things to be quick and simple. telling wanda goodbye would only prolong that process. 

you did, however, leave one last sticky note on the kitchen table for her to see when she woke up. it was nothing over the top, just a reminder to make sure she ate and took care of herself.

(and of course your signature smiley face at the bottom of the paper. she loved your odd little version of a smiley face.)

you packed a bag separate from everything wanda put together and stuffed it to the brim with bare necessities. clothes were replaceable. what you had with wanda was not. besides, she probably wouldn’t mind keeping a few of your sweatshirts. they were always her favorite.

rummaging in the side pockets of your jacket you found the last twenty dollar bill you had and used it to catch the next bus across town. 

in all honesty you would’ve texted natasha to tell her you were on your way, but your phone had been dead for three days and you didn’t bother charging it after last night’s conversation. natasha wouldn’t mind though, you’ve been friends with her for over seventeen years. she was the only person who knew about your upbringing and all the abusive relationships between. she’d been there countless times to pick you up from the hospital your exes put you in, never once blaming you for what happened.

similarly to wanda, natasha never judged you for your decisions or ways of coping. she worried just as much as wanda did, but knowing you hated having to talk about things she kept silent. there were only a handful of times natasha could think of where you talked to her about what happened.

with a deep breath in, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and stepped off the bus. the walk to natasha’s house from your drop off area was only about fifteen minutes, but within that short amount of time you managed to get worked up over wanda. your thoughts were so loud that by the time you made it to natasha’s door step you had tears streaming down your face, your nose red from wiping it with the sleeve of your jacket. 

natasha was quick to answer, but she hadn’t expected you of all people to be standing right in front of her. snapping herself out of shock, she pulled you in for a hug before moving back to check you for any signs of bruising. 

there were a few, but they were fading nicely against your skin. and the cuts she found looked like they had been treated with care, which only confused the redhead. she hadn’t heard from you in over eight months, so it wasn’t surprising that she missed out on hearing about wanda. 

what a shame, you thought to yourself. she would’ve loved her.

natasha closed the door behind you and brought you over to her sofa. you laughed remembering that you were in this very same position last night; although it wasn’t like natasha could break up with you or anything of the sort. 

“stay here, i’ll be right back.”

you glanced at the clock on natasha’s wall seeing that it was three in the morning.

it was only when natasha came back when you noticed her disheveled hair and chapped lips. it was clear she was sleeping prior to you knocking on her door. she immediately noticed the guilty look on your face and quickly went to stop you from overthinking.

“none of that now, i don’t care at all that you woke me up at three in the morning. i haven’t seen you in over eight months, i’d be angry with myself if i hadn’t heard you knocking.” unsure how to reply, you nodded solemnly. 

she smiled, “are you hungry?” you licked your lips, food hadn’t crossed your mind in hours. “very.”

you followed her to the kitchen where she brought out a can of soup and set it to cook on the stove. 

“i don’t have much, i keep forgetting to go to the store.” she shrugged, leaning against the counter top.

“s’okay.” 

you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, arms folded as you stared off into space. natasha took this opportunity to really get a look at you.

she could see the outlining of a bruise on the side of your cheek, and judging by the size, you had to have taken a pretty bad hit. there were also a few bruises around your neck as if someone had tried to choke you. 

she bit her lip, wincing internally at the thought of you getting choked so violently that it left marks as dark as the nail polish natasha once used as a teenager. it hurt her even worse knowing that this person was supposed to love you. 

you caught natasha’s gaze and shifted yourself further away from her. she tried not to frown, but you saw the slight downward movement of her eyebrows before she had a chance to look unbothered. 

“the soup, tasha. it’s going to burn.” you reminded her. 

“ah!”

she stirred the liquid content with a spoon and brought it to her mouth. “just right.” you watched her pour a safe amount into a bowl before giving you a spoon she hadn’t wrapped her lips around.

“lets go sit down so you can eat, yeah?” 

you followed her like a lost little kid back into the living room. if it hadn’t been for such serious issues at hand, natasha would’ve commented on how adorable you looked clutching the bowl with two hands while you unconsciously bit the insides of your cheeks because you were scared of breaking something. 

she gave you time to finish eating. you ate slower than she remembered, but she didn’t think too much of it. the last bite was when natasha when noticed the large scar across your hand. 

(god did she hate herself for not seeing it sooner because what the hell?) 

you moved to go put the dish in the sink, but natasha stopped you, gently grabbing the scarred hand to keep you from leaving. 

“don’t worry about that right now. set it on the coffee table and i’‘ll take care of it when we’re done here.” her voice was soft enough for you to feel safe, an affect only one other person could do. 

natasha didn’t say anything else, she wanted you to feel in control, to feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

the crack of your knuckles could be heard after a few short seconds of silence. there was no reason for you to feel so nervous. it was just natasha after all. she would never hurt you.

(you were brave. you were okay. you can do this.)

“she was so good to me, nat.” the redhead scoffed, but you were quick to defend your now presumed ex. 

“she was! this time i really mean it, and i know that sounds redundant but i would put the love i have for you as a friend, as a sister, on the line.” she seemed to believe you after that. the look in your eyes told her everything she needed to know. 

“what happened?”

your lip started to quiver, “i ruined it.” natasha moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around you so that your body rest against hers. “how’s that?” 

“i can’t stop drinking, couldn’t, and she had to do the right thing for herself.” her grip tightened around your frame. she hated not knowing you were drinking again. the first few times weren’t too bad, but she had a feeling this time was more than she could help with.

“she was so good to me, tasha and i ruined it. i fucking ruined every bit of it because i’m too weak to-”

“stop. do not finish that sentence or else i’m going to give you a sisterly lecture for the next three hours about every good thing that makes you who you are.” her threat came off as a joke, but if needed, natasha would actually hold herself to her own word.

you sighed and visibly deflated, natasha allowing the tiniest smile grace her lips from behind you. 

“what was her name?” your eyes found their way to natasha’s hands and the rings that clung to the base of her fingers. “wanda.”

“how did she treat you? i mean really treat you.”

you fiddled with her rings, twisting them back and forth absentmindedly, “she used to bandage my wounds with like, five layers of gauze, i swear. i always thought she was just being over dramatic, but sometimes the bleeding would even seep through that.” 

your breathing began to slow down. “she would always come when i needed her, whether that be when i blacked out from drinking or if i was sick and needed help taking a bath.”

“she sounds like a good person.”

“she is.” 

natasha hummed, “you really scared me, you know?” you moved to try and face her, but she kept her arm wrapped securely around your torso. “i didn’t hear from you in over half a year and now you’re here. you’re my best friend and i thought you were dead.” there was a crack in her voice. god knows she didn’t want you to see her cry.

(that’s why she held you in place, but most of all because she missed having you close.)

“i’m sorry, tasha...” 

“just don’t ever do that to me again or i will kill you myself.” you rolled your eyes at her reply. “i’m not, i promise.”

you moved off her lap, turning your body so you were face to face with her. “where do i go from here, nat?” 

she thought dor a second, “can you make it through tonight without a drink? or will withdrawls be too bad?”

you paused, surely you hadn’t gotten to the point where withdrawls were as serious as you’d seen in all the medical shows and documentaries. “i think i’ll be good.”

natasha nodded in approval, “do you want help?”

it was the question of the century for you. the answer should be a simple yes, but it never failed to amaze you how much weight could be carried behind a three letter word. there was a chance for you though, something you might not ever get again. and honestly, natasha’s heart couldn’t take another relapse like this. eight months of not knowing if you were alive or not was bad enough, she couldn’t imagine not seeing her dearest friend for the rest of her life.

“yes,” you exasperated, “yes, i wan’t help.”

[flooffybits]

Nothing Wrong

Idol: Son Hyejoo (Loona)

marshmallow: hey! i was wondering if you could write something about closeted non binary reader feeling more dysphoric than usual with hyejoo? hyejoo had noticed how depressed they've looked and how they've constantly stayed in their room for the past week so she's beyond confused. the reader decides it's unfair for both of them to keep her in the dark, even though being out of the binary gender is taboo in korea, so they tell her. angst with a fluffy ending but only if you're comfy with writing it:) tysm!!

Warning: feeling of dysphoria, mentions of nbphobia

A/n: to all my non-binary and trans readers/followers or anyone in that matter, please know that you are very much valid and appreciated. you are loved and i hope that you continue to have strength in all the hardships that you go through

☕buy me a coffee☕

Her eyes follow you when you groggily walk back to your room after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, her brows pinched together in worry when she notices the dark bags under your eyes and how your steps seemed heavy with every one you took back to the safety of your room.

Her lips turn into a frown as she lowers the controller, setting it beside her before she stood up, carefully padding to your room, but she stops right outside, peeking in to see your curled up figure on the bed.

Hesitantly, she raps her knuckles against the open door, just to seek your permission in case you didn’t want her bothering you. But you did leave the door open for her in case she needed anything.

“Y/n?” Watching as you roll over to face her, your girlfriend’s worries grow when she sees how exhausted you are, eyes weary and looking so defeated that she doesn’t know what to do.

“What is it?”

Even the sound of your voice was worrisome. While she was used to you being the more talkative one between you, she’s never heard you sounding quite this weak, it reminded her of when your pet had died and you were nothing but a mess for at least three days.

But it’s been a week and you seemed much worse compared to then.

Hyejoo purses her lips before she looked around, not wanting to seem too annoying before asking. “Can I come in?” She asks and you blink at her, and for a moment the weariness leaves your face as you pat the space next to you, arms opening up for her and she feels relieved to know that she’s not the root of your current state.

She joins you in bed, her arms quickly finding your waist and nuzzling her head into your hair, sighing at the familiar scent of your shampoo. You both just lay there for a few minutes while she tries to come up of something to say whilst you were pulled back into your thoughts.

“... Do you want to talk about it?”

You were a bit surprised as she initiated the conversation, but looking at Hyejoo’s worried expression made you remember that she didn’t really know what it was that you were going through or what it was you were feeling.

While you did trust her a lot, you weren’t too confident on how she would be reacting to you telling her that you were non-binary. And that was one of the reasons you’ve been feeling so down lately.

She was understanding. That much was clear, and she most definitely cared for you, if coming in to check up on you instead of playing her games like usual wasn’t enough proof of it.

Somehow, just somewhere in your head, there was a shroud of doubt that was slowly but gradually making itself known and you weren’t sure how to properly tackle it.

Testing the waters, you wanted to first come to your family about it, but that was most likely what led to the present and suddenly, your thoughts ran and ran, making you forget about your girlfriend until she gently placed a warm hand against your cheek, her thumb brushing under your eye as a tear unknowingly slipped down your cheek.

“I want to help you... but I need you to let me before I can do that.” She whispered, brows knitting together in worry as she held you closer and you were able to snap out of your inner turmoil before finally looking up at her again, lower lip trembling before you sucked in a deep breath.

She offers a comforting smile, kissing your forehead as her fingers carded through your hair. “Take your own pace, it’s okay.” Her voice is soft, gentle, and you could feel yourself calming slightly before you finally nodded your head.

She didn’t know. And you really shouldn’t let what your parents told you assume that she would say the same.

It was only fair.

“I visited my parents last week.” You mutter and she listens attentively, humming to let you know that she was paying attention to every word. “I’ve been meaning to tell them and you about it but I...” Your heart stutters and you lick your lips before clenching your fists.

“I asked them what they would feel if I ever told them that I was n-non-binary...” You hold your breath as the words come out, expecting her to react, but she doesn’t, allowing you to finish your story and you’re a little relieved by that.

But as you recall your parents’ reactions, that relief is gone in a flash and your chest feels heavy as you choke out the memory. “T-They told me to stop talking nonsense. They said that there were only two genders and nothing else, s-so I didn’t...” Hyejoo didn’t need you to say the whole thing, squeezing you in an attempt to calm you down as you tried to suppress a sob.

The encounter had only left you with a bitter taste in your mouth, pretending that you were someone that you weren’t and you just couldn’t help but feel like you could ever really be yourself no matter how much you wanted to.

Since that day, you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror without feeling like the person you were seeing was a completely different person that only wore your face.

“I couldn’t tell them that I am non-binary, and I hate it so much because I told myself that I would stop lying about who I am, especially to the people I care about.”

She could understand now, why you’ve been shutting yourself out, hiding from the world and just overall looking as though your soul had left your body and left it to act on autopilot.

Your family mattered so much to you and she knew how much you cared about them. So to have your parents talk so carelessly about who you were, she knows just how much it was affecting you.

But it was only to an extent because she didn’t know what exactly it was you were going through.

Instead, she keeps you against herself, kissing your head and rubbing your back to soothe you, letting you cry all the sadness out of you because she knows that you’ve been holding all of this in since it started.

She had to take a moment to collect her thoughts, trying to think of which she wanted to address first, but eventually, her lips part and you hear her quiet voice as she tries her best to understand what you were feeling.

“I’m always going to love you, Y/n.” While you had expected her to say something else, those simple words seemed to have calmed you enough to reduce your sobs into quiet sniffles as she continues. “What your parents said, I can see how much it hurts you, and I wish that they were a bit more open-minded and sensitive about it, but please know that whether or not they accept you, I’m always going to be here for you.”

She presses her hand gently against the small of your back, tracing random patterns to help calm you down as you listen to her speak. “It doesn’t make you any less human. And I hate how you’ve been hurting so much like this - doubting yourself, questioning yourself when you don’t even have to.”

She purses her lips before letting out a gentle sigh. “You’re fine just the way you are. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing you have to change because you’re just you. You’re only discovering parts of you that you didn’t know that you had in the first place, that doesn’t make you different from me, your parents, or anyone else out there. You’re you and no one can ever change you or even tell you do to so.”

While she didn’t understand what it was like to have her parents reject her the way yours did, she decided to focus on what positivity she can give rather than focus on what caused you to be like this.

Of course, it would take a while to recover from your parents’ hurtful words, but she’s there to remind you that you were loved and accepted no matter what.

..

“You sure took your time. I’ve been waiting for hours!” You lightly roll your eyes at your girlfriend’s exaggeration before lowering the hood of your jacket and patting the snow off your shoulders. “Well, excuse me for having a upcoming test.” You retort, making the other huff as she grabbed your hand.

“Oh, shut up. Let’s just go.”

You allow the taller girl to drag you inside her family’s café and smile when you see her parents already going around and tending to the few patrons that were present in the establishment.

Though as soon as they see you, their expressions light up more, quickly finishing what they were doing and thanking their customers before coming to welcome you and their daughter.

“Y/n! It’s been a while since you’ve visited. Hyejoo’s been saying that you were missing the shop.” Hyejoo’s mother said whilst giving the two of you a tight hug and your girlfriend groans, hiding her face in embarrassment while her father chuckled and patted your back. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been busy. Aside from taking care of our daughter, you have a busy schedule, right?” You nod your head before grinning teasingly at the girl next to you.

Her eyes narrow as she points an accusing finger at you. “Don’t even say it.” That prompted you to laugh before you shook your head and face her parents. “I’ve been busy with school, but I’m fine. Hyejoo likes to keep my consoles company while I study.” You say with a giggle and said girl smacked your shoulder, releasing your hand before she marched to the usual table the both of you occupied when her parents laughed.

“Well, why don’t you spend the day with her instead of letting games preoccupy her?” Hyejoo’s mother suggested and you nod your head. “We’ll bring you your usual, so enjoy your date.” Her father gave you another pat before they let you go and comfort your sulking girlfriend.

When you reach the table, you can’t help but smile at the adorable look on her face before taking the seat in front of her. “So, do you come here often?” You ask playfully and she raises a brow at you before playing along. “My family owns this shop.” She deadpans and you roll your eyes before leaning against the table with your elbows on the table.

“You’re no fun.”

“And you’re annoying.”

“Hey, what I said was true.”

“I spend more time with you than I do with my games.”

You can’t help but laugh as she finally admits the reason for her sulking before you reach over and place your hands on her cheek, squeezing them fondly before you withdrew, avoiding your girlfriend’s hand when she tried swatting you away.

“Okay, you do keep me company and the only reason you play is when I’m too busy to talk to you.” You relent and she pouts before you lean over to peck her cheek. “I’m sorry, my Hyejoo, please stop pouting.”

She cringes at your words, but it doesn’t stop the blush from rising to her cheeks as she turns her head away with a huff that it makes her look even more adorable than she usually was.

But she’s looking at you soon after, her expression becoming a little more serious as she reached over. “I know that you’re not exactly... comfortable to tell people, but if you want to tell them...” She glances to her parents, watching as her mother happily prepared your meals, and your eyes follow, shoulders dropping slightly.

You flip your hand over just so your gripping hers, smiling gently as you let your thumb run over the side of her hand. Of course, she didn’t tell her parents. That was your right whether you wanted to do so, so you appreciated how she was patient enough to respect your privacy.

“I...” Remembering your parents still stung, but then the memories with your girlfriend was enough to keep you at ease. “Maybe another time?”

She nods her head in understanding, raising your hand to press a kiss at your fingertips before smiling. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here waiting.”

And you could say that you counted yourself lucky to have someone who was as patient and understanding as Hyejoo.

[heckpuppyy]

It’s quiet.

The musings about a prince at a breaking point. Everyone deserves to breathe, even those who... uh, don’t.

TW// Mentions of intense negative emotion, mentions of blood, mentions of past Temporary Death, crying CW// Light physical affection, mute!reader

He was tired. His muscles ached, his mind was hazy, and his body bruised and bloodied. Zagreus had tried six times to escape again, but to no avail. It was always something that would come up... be it small like not moving away from one of the blasted traps in time and being sent straight home, or something more disappointing like losing to Champions he’d bested time and again from previous attempts. Nothing quite stung more than the mocking from Theseus when he couldn’t dodge quick enough and he was struck down.

This time, however, felt especially difficult. He only just managed to get away from Alecto and nearly was sent home by the Bone Hydra in a rather embarrassing fashion... but now this? Butterflies. Butterflies had left him within an inch of his life as he pulled himself through another door towards another challenge that he knew he wouldn’t survive. Frustrated, tired, and sore he continued into the room and surveyed the area as best as he could. It wasn’t long before he heard movement beyond his field of vision, immediately putting him on edge. He pulled Coronacht closer to him, knocking one of the divine arrows as he inched closer. Maybe if he could get the jump on it he would be able to survive... though that seemed very unlikely.

He pressed his back up against the phoenix statue and peaked around the corner, though what he was greeted by was not what he was expecting. A shade dressed in red and black gathered water from the healing fountain in a pitcher that looked freshly fired. He relaxed a bit, standing up to his height and taking the figure in a bit more. The shade turned and met eyes with the Prince.

And then it clicked.

Zagreus stood there for a moment so he could take everything in. The Shade who he had come to know and care for was behind the door he was convinced would surely take his life for a seventh time... in front of a fountain even! He couldn’t help himself from starting to laugh. It was comical, really. Convinced one of his family members or some other cruel entity was playing some kind of joke on him... putting him through such anguish to only have exactly what he needed when he had essentially given up on himself this time around.

‘Zagreus...?’ you signed, putting down your pitcher and taking a few tentative steps towards your friend. He was bruised, bloodied, and his eyes were reflecting something you had never seen in them before... hopelessness? No... maybe just exhaustion. Whatever it was, you certainly didn’t like it. Zagreus forced a smile as best as he could and settled his bow on his back as he moved towards you.

“Hello there, Shade. I, uh... wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He spoke, trying not to react as you knit your brows together with a frown.

‘What happened? You look rough...’ you reply, quickly going for the cloth attached to your belt and dipping it into your pitcher. Zagreus shook his head as you reach up and dab some of the grime away from his wounds on his face. You sighed, knowing it’s not your place to force him to talk about it but, at the same time, you really wanted him to...

He noticed the change in your demeanor and sighs himself. He moves your hand away and holds it in his for just a moment.

“I, uh... Can we sit down?” he asked, lowering his head to stare at your hand in his. You soften your expression and nod, gently leading him over to the edge of the fountain and settling yourself on it’s edge, Zagreus deciding to sit on the grass next to you. He doesn’t let go even now, almost feeling a sense of grounding having something that’s positive within reach of him.

“I... Haven’t had any success lately,” he starts, still focusing more on your hands than anything else, “And it’s starting to get to me, I think.”

“I was able to get out of here once, but I... couldn’t stay. I had to come back. When I wasn’t getting anywhere then, it was different. I was still learning, still strategizing... Everything was new and I had time to figure it out.”

He moves again, but this time it’s involuntary. He’s trembling a bit and something wet hit the back of your hand. Was he... was he crying? You reach out with your free hand, but hesitate. Not really knowing where physical boundaries of the Prince of the Underworld lie with friends, though really feeling like even a bit of reassurance would help. You let your hand rest on the back of his head, gently running your fingers through his dark hair in an attempts to sooth whatever could bring such a fierce and mighty champion to upset like this.

This gesture, however, was apparently all that Zagreus needed to understand he was safe. The tears flowed freely now, though he wasn’t sobbing. Just a release of emotions and frustrations and tension he was so bound and determined to hold onto. Like if it weren’t for that bundle of feelings he would’ve lost his fire.

“It’s been such a long time and I just...” he sighs, the breath shaky as he continues to let himself decompress. The rest is understood. ‘I just need a break’. He allows himself this moment to just let it all go, pride aside. The gentle touch from his friend feels so comforting when all he’s felt lately is just disappointment and physical agony. He can feel his heart beat against his chest as the negativity begins to seep out of him, the physical release of finally letting himself feel what he had been ignoring almost euphoric against everything else.

The two of you stay like this for a long while. Eventually, Zagreus looks up to finally meet your eyes. Kind and understanding, they truly felt like the only thing in Elysium he cared about at that moment. You smile, your cheeks would color if they could from such a loving gaze gifted to you. You pull back from him, moving to the cloth again and dipping it into the fountain. Zagreus relaxes as you dab away the dirt and grime from is wounds, the more superficial ones closing from the healing qualities of the water. You hand him the pitcher of water and he drinks deep, polishing off the container as if he’d never had a single drop to drink his entire life. You stand, helping him to his feet and fussing over his tunic for a bit before placing a reassuring hand on his arm.

‘Your failures do not define your success.’ you begin, ‘You made it out once, and you will do it again. Setbacks will continue to happen, but will not be the end. If not this time, maybe the next or even next after that.’

“Shade, I--”

You put up a finger and he quiets. You weren’t finished.

‘You’ll make it to Theseus and Asterius and I will be right where I always am. As your number one fan... and your friend. I will always be here, and not just because I’m dead.’

He laughs. That’s better.

‘Now go get them. I’ll be waiting for you at the Colosseum, and praying to Athena for your arrival. If I don’t see you this time, I will simply come right back here and wait until I see you on your next try. You can do it!’

Zagreus pulls you into a sudden tight hug. It catches you off guard for a moment, You relax and return the gesture, holding him until he finally releases and pulls back on his own.

“Thank you, Shade... I guess I didn’t realize how much I needed this. I’ll... I’ll see you soon. Whether that be with Theseus and Asterius or in this clearing once more. Take care of yourself too, alright?”

You nod in a promise you will. He takes a deep breath and holds it just for a moment before slowly letting it out, mentally steadying himself for the next leg. He lifts your hands up to his lips, gently placing a small kiss to the tops of them before pulling away. He smiles, a tinge of pink to his cheeks before he turns and heads off through the door down another leg of his never ending journey.

You smile to yourself and just watch the door close behind him, reveling in the stillness of your surroundings after. You soon move to collect your pitcher and gather some more of the fountain’s water before heading off on your own path again.

After all, the colosseum is a bit of a walk away. You don’t want to be late to see your favorite Champion claim another victory from the King and his Bull. There was no doubt in your mind it was going to be his best fight yet.

Well! After a bit of a rough week at work, I finally managed to finish this small drabble of mine. Working through some frustrations of my own is kind of what inspired this... but also having some really bad runs myself! As always, critique and feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoyed! - Baph

[blueroan-equestrian]

Once upon an Arrangement

Smut.... way towards the end

Gaara x reader

part 2

Gaara Side

Gaara and his council haven’t been seeing eye to eye as they wanted him to marry a woman he never met from a new powerful country he never met. It wasn’t that he was waiting to find the love of his life or anything, he didn’t have time for a relationship and he doubted he’d marry on his own. But to marry someone... someone he never met.... felt wrong even for peace. Sure he had long given up on the idea of having someone to come home to but surely whoever they brought over, she must have dreamed to marry the one she loved not some random leader of some country she never heard of.

He sat in the meeting on whether or not he should consider a marriage to form an alliance with this country, and he had long tuned out the bickering of the old men who sat in front of him. It became clear that they expected him to marry to prevent a war and not look for any other way to settle this. This was the only way. Gaara knew he wasn’t going to have the time to learn the language so he assigned a few ninjas all female to learn the language so his new wife could speak in her native language and have some friends... or at least someone to communicate her needs to.

...

You’re POV

My country called upon me to marry some country leader I had never heard of to unite our countries. I was of course allowed to turn it down, but if my marrying someone, could save our country’s from going to war, it was my duty to go join our country’s together through marriage.

As we flew to a country I never heard of they put me in a large, flowing white gown and a long white veil over my head so I couldn’t see anything. Someone led me off the plane into a car where we drove for what felt like forever and when I got out we were greeted with voices in a language I didn’t understand. Many hands led me somewhere else with more voices that spoke in a language I didn’t understand as a pair of hands held mine. Then after some time my vail was lifted by the hands that had been holding mine, just enough for a pair of lips to come in and lay a soft kiss on my lips, and then laid the veil back down, took one of my hands in his and raised our hands up above our heads and was met with a loud roar and clapping. I then am led somewhere else where I finally have the veil taken off from over my face. I am in a large fancy bedroom with a blonde woman and a tall red headed man with the most beautiful sea foam eyes. He stood tall and with a stiff expression as he said something to me and then to the woman.

“Hello my name is Temari, and this is my little brother Gaara... and your husband. This will be your room. I and a few other woman have learned English for you. I will show you them later...” she paused for Gaara to say something to her. “Gaara is the Kazekage so he won’t be around much but he will provide for you just let me know or one of the staff that he has had prepared for you. Um ... You will meet them tomorrow. Good night.” The two then left me alone.

The room was spacious and and well furnished, and had a balcony with a view of the city that I would now call home. A place where I knew no one and no one loved me. I was alone and tears began to flow down my eyes. I was married to a man who never show me any more affection than the one time he did today, if you can count a small kiss. I was going to be trapped here to be alone utterly alone.

My crying must have been loud because the stern looking blonde woman walked in and her face softened. “Gaara sent me back... his room is right next to yours, he was worried... are you alright?” She asked as she reached out to place a hand on my back.

I nod, and choke, “I’m just homesick already.”

She nodded and patted my back, “I understand, you are going to be alright. Tomorrow me, Hana, and Aika will go out and see the city. You can tell us about your home and maybe we can find something to make you feel less homesick.”

....

Two years in

I sat in my husband’s waiting room reading a book sent to me from home waiting for the opportunity to force my husband to spend time with me. A new thing I learned I could do to get attention. I waited for his meeting to end before slipping in and walking the perimeter to touch everything on my way to him. Then I would sit down on one of the cushy chairs in front of his desk again touching his things. In broken language I learned over the two years I say to him, “What’s this and what was that about?”

He looks at me with the same stony face he always has on when we interact. “(Y/n) that is a gift from the hidden leaf village Hokage, please put it down... thank you. And that was just an update on his latest mission.”

I nodded pretending to care, “Have you seen Temari’s new baby boy?”

He nodded, “Yes very cute...You aren’t here to ask me to... you know.”

“No, you would have to be able to touch me first and a ton of other steps before that could happen.” I joked but he didn’t get it but his brother who just walked in, did.

“She’s right and honestly she’s hot and it’s a pity you don’t put any effort in her. Give the girl some attention, stop making her work for it.”

Gaara thought for a second and then stands up, moves around and takes my hand “He’s right, no matter how busy I am, I should have made time for you instead of having others do it for me. Have you eaten?” I sat there with my hand in his completely shocked but quickly realized what happened and shake my head. He smiled the first time in our relationship, “May I take you to lunch?”

“That um that would be nice.” I smiled.

He held my hand through our walk through the town to the restaurant. People stared at us as we walked and as we ate. We sat at the table eating quietly, when a waiter asked, “Don’t you two ever talk?”

Without flinching I tell them, “Actually this is the most he has ever interacted with me on his own free will and not me just interrupting his work day.”

I was only teasing but he honestly looked hurt and guilty. When we were walking back his fingers were a wiggly mess as they tried to hold onto mine. I squeezed his hand and bumped into him playfully, “You know I was only kidding around right?”

He nodded, “but I should be a better husband, learned your language, spent time with you, and made sure you were alright myself... but I... I was scared...”

I stopped walking, “Scared of what?”

“Of making you afraid of me... like they all were.”

I hugged him burying my face into his chest, “Why would anyone be afraid of you? I have never heard you once raise your voice!”

He patted my back awkwardly, “Oh.... um ok”

I began walking again, “I’m going to teach you English. We’ll use it to bond. What do you say? An hour a day?”

“Alright, we can have lunch together in my office every day.”

“No we need to be moving and experiencing.”

He looks at me with considerate eyes and nods and agreed.

“We start today!” I begin with basic greetings as we walked into his office and then some office things.

Soon he could have moderate conversation with me in my native tongue. “I want you to read this book, okay? It was my favorite as a kid.” I laughed as I handed Gaara a thin chapter book. “And don’t worry I will read it with you. It’ll be a good activity to do together and it’ll give you more vocabulary and practice.”

Gaara held the book in his hands with a look of confusion. He looks at me and says, “Um honey, I don’t know about this, I have to read a lot for work, I just want to relax during our time. Can’t we do something else?”

I deadpan him, “We could make a baby.”

He opens the book and began to try to read the words. I moved to sit on his lap and I could tell he wasn’t sure if I was serious earlier but he leaned back and wrapped an arm around me so I could get comfortable. While he and I began our reading journey a knock on his door saved him from the book we were reading, “come in!” He practically sang.

I raised my eyebrows but said nothing as Kankuro stepped in. When his eyes landed on us he stepped back, “uh should I come back?”

“No! I mean no come in.” The two spoke in their native language so quickly I couldn’t understand. They talked for a little over an hour with me on Gaara’s lap as if I weren’t there then Kankuro left and Gaara turned to me, “Um... honey... Kankuro .... um he thinks that I should have... that we should have a um... talk? Yes talk about um ... if we want um babies because you brought it up and um... do you want a baby?”

I laughed and leaned in to kiss him, “Honestly.... I wouldn’t mind. I think we would make adorable babies.”

“Adorable?”

“Yes you know... cute.” I giggled.

He nodded with a serious look, “Alright, I’ll do some...”

“Research.” I teased knowing him all to well.

“Yes research. And then we can uh...”

“Did you never get the talk?” I giggled.

The look on his face gave nothing away, “the talk?”

“Yeah, like sex and how babies are made.”

“I know how babies are made, I have a one and a half year old nephew.” He grumbled.

I chuckled kissed him and hopped off his lap, “Alright sweetheart, I know you have work to do... will I see you at dinner?”

He nods, “Yes, I’ll see you at dinner... could you send the gaurd at the door in?”

...

Gaara sat at the head of the table, I to his right and Kankuro to his left as we did every night since Gaara decided to be a better husband. The two brothers are normally quiet, only chatting a little. But today there was an air of awkwardness. “What is up with you two?”

The two exchanged looks, “Nothing, sweetheart...nothing how was your day?”

“Oh your going to tell me what is going on... maybe not now but you will... my day was good, I got a new dress.”

Gaara nodded, “Nice, is it nice?”

“Want me to show you tonight?” I asked cheekily. His face turned tomato red at the innocent comment. I smiled, “oh I know what happened!!! You went to big brother for sex advice didn’t you?” I giggled and what made it better was when Kankuro smirked and nodded confirmation. Poor Gaara was so embarrassed but it was too fun not to tease him.

Dinner finished and usually Gaara would go back to work. “Gaara, I was hoping that you could take a break tonight as our hour got interrupted.”

He was still quite flushed but agreed and quietly followed me. He only hesitated when I entered my bedroom. “Gaara I know I like to tease but seriously we should talk... tell me what questions do you have...? Do you want to start having sex? Forget about the baby thing.” I say sitting him on the couch in my room and sit down with him.

He sighed, “I do... I like being able to kiss you when ever I want and I like how it makes me feel...”

“It makes me feel good too.” I hummed reassuringly.

“I... asked Kankuro... how I... how to please a woman.”

I smiled and slipped out of my panties, “Give me your hand and I will show you around.... that’s my clitoris.”

“Should I um suck on it?”

I moaned “If you like, go ahead and get to know her.”

He slipped off the couch and hesitantly prodding at my vagina before leaning into use his tongue causing my hips to snap forward “That’s right....ohhhhhh!” He hummed into my pussy causing me to moan even loader. “Ahhhh just like that!!!!! Again!” He worked me until I arched my back, screaming, and cumming into his mouth. He came back up after I had gone limp.

“Did I do good?” I nodded too heady to voice yet. “Kankuro called that eating pussy.

“Yeah you ate pussy and you did good... do you want me to return the favor?”

“I don’t have a pussy.”

I laughed, “No do you want me to suck your dick?”

“Oh uh .... um okay but only if you want to.”

I chuckled, “You’re always so serious, go lay down on my bed.”

He does and I climbed up on top of him and gently pulled down his pants to reveal his thick leaking precum cock standing up desperately seeking attention. I leaned down kissed the tip before taking him into my mouth earning a sharp inhale. I bobbed head sucking as I twirled my tongue around his shaft as he squirmed until his hot seed shot down my throat and I swallowed every single drop of it. I fixed his pants before crawling up him and snuggled into his side. He looks at me with such satisfaction, “Wow.... that... that was just wow!”

“Gaara?”

“Hmm?”

“Stay with me tonight.”

...

Gaara started to spend his nights in my bed, I in a pair of panties and an oversized T-shirt, and he in a pair of tight black boxer briefs. He slips an arm under me and the other in my hair as I snuggle into him using him as a pillow. When I wake up he is always staring happily down at me. “Good morning honey.” He would hum.

“Good morning... love... Do you have to go?”

He kissed my head, “Yes... but um I have something special for us tonight.”

I smiled up at him, “well I have something for you right now.” I hummed going underneath the covers to go down on him before sending him off to work.

Today I knew I wouldn’t see him for the majority of the day, not even during our normal hour. I am the wife of the Kazekage so I can go absolutely anywhere and I have plenty of people around me but not always in the positive way. I am almost never alone once I leave home. But I struggle to understand the mill of people and today was a little bit more than I could handle. Luckily, Kankuro was around and came to help disperse the crowd. He sat down with me at the little cafe I was at, “You know Gaara would be more than happy to send a gaurd with you when you go out... actually I am pretty sure that is what is the point of your gaurds... where are they? Gaara is going to lose his shit.”

I bit my lip, “I gave them the slip and before I went out into public with Gaara it was alright but now people know who I am and I just can’t be alone ... I just want to be a little normal.”

Kankuro nodded, “Then let me come with you as a friend. What ever you want to do I will go with you.”

I smiled at him, “that’s kind of you...”

After I was ready to go back home Kankuro walked me back, “I will see you at dinner.”

I nod and walk to my room. Gaara would be in a meeting with the elders so I decided to go draw myself a nice hot bath. Eventually I just sank down under the water and listened to the white noise though I had gotten so relaxed I hadn’t even noticed that Gaara had come in and was standing over the tub till he reached in and pulled me up, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I gasped, “just being alone. What do you want?”

He relaxed and released me and began to remove his now wet white robe. “I was just wondering if you were ... Um..... if you were alright before I started my next meeting, Hana reported you were in here for quite some time.”

“I slipped out and your brother joined me for lunch actually, I’m surprised she didn’t notice me walking back in.” I pouted.

He chuckled and sat on the edge of the tub, “she probably did but she wasn’t going to admit that to me that she lost you.”

“Kankuro did say that you would loose your shit.”

“Well he’s right but I will deal with that later ... are you alright?”

“Yeah... I’m just a little bit lonely.” I say shrinking back into the water.

Gaara stood up and undressed, “Scoot forward sweetheart, I’m getting in.”

I do move forward but I questioned, “What about your meeting?”

He slipped into the water behind me pulling me into him, “It’ll have to wait, my wife needs me more. After our bath we can jump right into my surprise for you.” I relaxed against his fully naked body as we soaked in the large tub. But once the water got cold I moved to get out he pulled me back. “(Y/n) ... I .... you know... I love you... you know right?”

I turned to look at him, “Really? You do?”

He kissed me delicately, “Yes, I love you. I love you so much.”

I smiled, “yeah? I love you too.” I smashed my lips into his again.

We got dressed in clean clothes (he now keeps his clothes in my closet) and he turned to me and says “Baby... honey, I am taking you back home and your going to introduce me to your world. I already have our bags packed and they have a car... they are called cars right?” I nod “a car here to take us to your parents house. Are you ready?”

“Oh my goodness!!!!! Gaara! This is so sweet!”

I fling myself into his arms and he hummed, “Happy anniversary baby.”

I was so excited. We got into the car, a car for the first time in four years, years I tried my best to focus on the new reality and not on what I would no longer have. Positivity is the best way to look at things my mom would always say. When we got to the plane Gaara looked at it with a look I never seen on his face before ... fear? I take his hand, “Are you alright, My love?”

He smiled just a little bit at my last comment, “I’m fine... but um... what is that?”

I couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit, “It’s a plane, it’ll fly us back home. Don’t worry it’s safe. Just hold my hand and you’ll feel better.” I give him my hand and I lead him up the stairs and into the plane. “It’s a long trip home so just relax okay? Don’t tense up just hold my hand until we take off and then I will show you the bed and we can take a nap, alright?” He nodded and I buckled us up before we got ready for lift off. As soon as the plane began to move, Gaara began to hold his breath. “Babe, breath, just breathe, every thing will be alright. It’ll be alright, it might feel funny at first but that’s just the momentum and cabin pressure. It’s perfectly normal just relax, that’s right good job.”

Once in the air I unbuckled us and led him to the bed room. I undressed him and then myself before climbing in bed and pulled the covers over us. He curled into me, “This does feel a little weird.”

“Gaara?”

“Hmm?”

“This was a really sweet anniversary gift, I didn’t get you anything.”

“You gave me you, that’s all I need and all I want.” He whispered kissing my forehead.

...

We get to my childhood house and before I let him open the car door I take both of my hands and turn his face to look at me before trying to fix his hair in some way. He of course sat patiently as I swept his hair side to side nervously. “Okay, um use your English, shake my father’s hand and hug my mother don’t bow ok? Ok uh, you shake my siblings hands but only if they offer alright? And um.... stick by me alright? They already hate you because they blame you for the arranged marriage thing but know that I love you, I do ok?”

“Ok I love you too, it’ll be ok.” We get out and before we reached the door, the door swung open and out my little sister and threw herself into my arms

When I set her down she looked up at Gaara and said, “Who the Fuck is this?”

“My husband, Gaara.”

“Oh can he go away?”

“No, he’s my husband now let’s go inside.” And we do and when it came time to introduce Gaara it became very tense.

“Alright, guys Gaara is my husband and I love him. He makes me happy so be nice.” I scolded.

...

Bedtime rolls around and I lead him to my bed room and we go to the family bathroom together to brush our teeth and use the bathroom. Coming out we got glares from my two older brothers as they stood in the door way of their room opposite of the bathroom. I take Gaaras hand and take him back to my room shutting the door. “I’m sorry baby. They are being such Assholes! You called them and got them all to come home so that you could bring me here and see them. But they treat you like some dictator!”

Gaara smiled gently as he began to strip getting ready for bed, “They just want to protect you, that’s all.” I nod and join him in getting ready for bed the rest of the way. We climbed into bed and he added, “Besides, I’ve been treated much worse.”

I propped myself up, “what? What happened, tell me?”

He gave me a weak smile, and gestured for me to come snuggle with him, “Babe, come on, that’s not important, you don’t need to know that horror of my life.”

I sat up more, “No, I want to know! Tell me.”

He inhaled deeply, “Alright, alright but first I want you to lay down and put your head on my chest and cuddle into me.”

I nod and he tells me about how his dad sealed a demon in him when he was inside his mother’s belly. He was ostracized and demonized, he was made to feel alone and he did some horrible things. Things he was ashamed of and he begged me to let him keep his shame to himself, so I stopped pushing, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried but I am glad that you told me. I love you.”

He kissed the top of my head and began to slip down my body when my mother walked in freezing Gaara at my breasts. “I just wanted to say good night and I am so glad that you’re back... how long will you be staying?”

I groaned, “I don’t know mom, but Gaara is very busy so I am sure it’s not as long as you would like. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

“Oh uh... ok see you in the morning.”

She shuts the door and I immediately shove Gaara’s head down between my legs. Gaara has become quite talented at eating pussy. He makes hard not to scream. I had to smother myself with my pillow. He crawled back up and whispered “beautiful, that was beautiful.”

“Yeah? Want to take it one step further?” I nipped at his bottom lip playfully.

“Are you sure? I mean you’re family is here.”

I smile and pulled on some shorts and threw him his white coat, “Follow me.” I open the window and climbed out onto the garage roof.

He began to follow me, “Sweetheart please, be careful.”

I look at him and simply jump off the roof. He of course follows and keeps close to me. I led him to me and my brother’s childhood treehouse. I stripped off his white coat and laid it out I stripped off my big shirt revealing my bare breasts to him. He looks at me and smiled, “You get more and more beautiful every time I see you. Lay down.”

He disgaurds his briefs and I my shorts. I spread my legs and reached for him, “Careful with me my love.”

He climbed between my legs. He kissed my lips and began to rub his cock between my folds, both of us moaning. “You ready?” I nodded and he slowly began to push into me. He let out a low moan and nipped at my collarbone as he tried to control his hips and his movements.

He was so very gentle and I peppered the side of his head with kisses, “give me it, baby.” He growled and began to thrust into me, admittedly a little awkwardly as it was our first time and we both were experimenting with pace and angles. Gaara began to rut into me moaning into my ear as he begins to lose himself and I just lose control and cum triggering his orgasm and he cummed inside of me. I smiled at him feeling like a teenager sneaking around. After a moment of relaxing against him I got dressed and said, “Come on honey, we can snuggle inside.”

He looks at me happily dressed himself too and follows me back to the roof helping me up and back into my room. Gaara seemed to have relaxed and so we both fall asleep. In the morning we are woken up by my little sister, Halley. “Wake up! Wake up!” She sang as she jumped on our bed. “Mom’s making pancakes!”

She then jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. I get up and shut the door and begin to get dressed, “Honey? Are you alright?” I asked as Gaara, who is a early riser, curled up in bed.

“Yeah... I’m fine .... my head just hurts.” He mumbled.



“Aww got a headache? Do you want some water? I’m going to fetch you some water wait here.”

I trotted down my stairs and into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and my mom asked, “Where’s um Ga-Gaara? It’s Gaara?”

“Yes it’s Gaara, he’s upstairs, I think the jet lag is getting to him, he gots a headache.” I moved to fill the glass and grab the thermometer.

“Why don’t you get him some aspirin? It’s in the cabinet.”

I shake my head, “He’s never had that kind of medication before. I don’t want him having a reaction.” I take the glass of water back to the room, and sit on the bed and rub his back, “Honey, come sit up and drink this water.” He groaned but did as I asked. “That’s it, all of it. Now how’s your tummy feeling? Can you eat?”

“Not hungry.” He moaned sickly.

“Oh? Please lift your arm.” I set the thermometer under his armpit and then held his arm to his side. He rested his head on my shoulder. I have never seen him sick before and as soon as I look at the thermometer I frowned. “You got a low fever... you need to rest. Is there anything else I can get you to make you feel better?”

He lays back down and curled back up, “No I’m fine... go see your family... have fun.”

“I will come check on you in an hour alright? I love you, get some sleep.” I hummed kissing his head.

I go back down stairs to join my family for breakfast. “Where’s the dictator?” My brother laughed.

I glared at him, “He’s not a dictator! He is my husband and you know I really don’t appreciate how you have treated him.”

“Dear...” my mother began but I wouldn’t allow her to continue.

“No! None of you have met him before, you know nothing about him he is kind and polite!”

“But the letters.”

“What letters?”

“You know the ones saying he was hurting you.”

“There was never a way for me to contact you until recently.”

“Oh? Uh... oh dear.” Mom flustered.

“What did you do?” I growled.

“I just put some Hydrangea leaves in his tea yesterday....” she says twisting her fingers together.

Standing from my place I growled, practically screaming, “I can’t believe this!!!! You tried to kill my husband!”

“No... just make make him sick... he’ll be fine in a day or two.” She squeaked.

I grabbed my plate and made one for Gaara before storming back to my room. “Baby? How do feel now? Are you ready for something to eat?” I cooed.

“Mmm...” he groaned “I feel like the room is spinning.”

I set the plates on the side table and then sat on the side of the bed to rub his back, “Aw baby... I’m so sorry. Do you want some more water?”

“No.... I just want to sleep.”

I nod and kiss his head, “okay.... how about a nice hot bath, it always makes me feel better.”

He nodded so I go and draw him a nice hot bath. I then help him to get to the tub. He sit on the toilet as I started to undress him. Once in the tub he seemed to relax. I dropped in a lavender bath bomb into the water and sat on the edge of the tub with him. “Careful, don’t get to close I don’t want you to catch this.”

I look down ashamed of my mother, “Don’t worry... I won’t catch it... my... my mother thought that you were abusing me... so she um... she poisoned your tea.”

“Why would she think I was abusing you?” He asked confused.

“Someone... someone has been writing her. But I swear Gaara it wasn’t me, I would never say such things.” I pleaded that he believed me.

“I know, I know honey... don’t you worry. Just get in and comfort your husband.” I smiled and stripped down and slipped into the water sitting between his legs and my back against his chest.

“Does the water help?” I asked.

He cupped my breasts in his hands and squeezes, “Yes, still a bit queasy and a bit dizzy but this.” He squeezes my breasts for emphasis, “helps.”

I chuckle, “You like my breasts, huh?”

He rested his head against the tile and continued to grope my breasts. After another day Gaara was feeling better and I decided to go ahead and show him the sights, just the two of us and my little sister. He was actually really good with her.

...

Time to go home and I was now sick but not like I have ever been before and my mother is suddenly excited? She ran to the store and returned with a... pregnancy test? “Mom really?”

“Yes go check... come on before you leave hurry up?”

I take it and pregnant... “PREGNANT? But... We only had sex once! Just my luck.” I grumbled

Gaara who had been packing and loading the car came in, “What’s wrong honey?”

“Pregnant!” I answered still in shock.

“Yeah? That’s amazing! I’m going to be a Daddy!” Gaara sang swinging me around.

“Gaara? You want this?” I asked confused. He always seemed to freeze up when I mentioned babies before.

“Of course, we made this baby with love.” He coos with a hand on my belly. “This baby is our manafestation of our love. I can’t wait to tell Kankuro and Temari, they’ll be so excited!”

I smiled softly, “I am glad that you are happy my love.”

....

The attention I got when we got back was a bit much and shaking my guards was lot harder as Gaara would come to check on me and if I wasn’t with them, he would become increasingly more angry with them. “Gaara!” I hollered, “I need my space, these guards are suffocating me! You! You are suffocating me! I realize that I am carrying your baby and you want to make sure it’s safe but for god’s sake it’s in the safest place it can possibly be! In my belly!”

He stood from his desk and walked over to me, embracing me in his arms, “I know you’re frustrated with the gaurd detail but it is as much for your safety as it is for OUR baby. Now Kankuro and I can’t be there all the time, so you’re going to have to have a detail with you.” He leans back to look at me and sighs, “I need you to tell me that you understand....”

“But I don’t!” I grumbled. I wasn’t going to say anything just to put him at ease, that’s what recks marriages but so does stubbornness. “Ok how about this, as long as I am on the compound I don’t need a gaurd just when I leave to go into town.”

He thinks about it and caves, “Alright, that sounds reasonable but if you leave without them we’re going back to full time alright?”

“Alright”

...,,

[pink-imagines]

promise - pomegranate tea

request: Hi, I really like your writing. It's so cute <3 Especially the english breakfast tea with Iwaizumi. Can I please request a pomegranate tea with Atsumu? Thank you :)

a/n: i don't know if i like this one or not but i hope it suits your taste :)

warnings: angst with a fluffy ending

mha masterlist

hq masterlist

requesting rules

prompt list for haikyuu requests pomegranate tea; at what point did they know they loved their s/o?

He has to lose what he has to realize that it couldn't be more perfect. You could take a lot of his personality but when it never stops and he never seems to open up for you it has to stop. It takes him time to realize that he's not just playing around with you, and that your absence affects him more than he thought.

You had given him a final chance. Two times. He had stood you up two times. Once was more than enough to make you feel embarrassed. But two just made you feel stupid. The only reason you stayed with him is because when you were actually together it felt so nice. It seemed like he cared about you enough to deserve that final chance. Yet here you were, in the rain, and Atsumu was nowhere to be seen. You were just going on a simple café date, like you had before. The only difference now was that you weren't walking there together, leaving Atsumu with the responsibility to actually show up. You really wanted this to work, you knew that he was so much more than the show he put on. Clearly he didn't think the same. In your head were thousands of thoughts and malice comments that you wanted to say to him. You wanted to call him, but in the end decided against it. He got a simple three word text: You're a douche. The only thing you could do now was turn off your phone. You didn't want to go home, in case people would wonder why you came home so early. But you couldn't just walk around, it was raining way too much for that. You were stuck by the unused bus stop. No one would pass by, busses didn't drive there anymore and people wouldn't walk around there in the rain. Of course you could make your way to the café and call up one of your friends, but even though that text was so short it dragged all of your energy out of you. So you were stuck.

-

Atsumu was playing around with a volleyball in the gym. Practice had already ended. "Weren't you going on a date?", Osamu asked, ready to leave. "I cancelled.", he shrugged. "Did you tell her that?", Osamu asked but Atsumu wouldn't answer, "You know if you keep doing that you're really gonna regret it one day." "Whatever.", he sighed, "It doesn't matter." "It matters to her.", Osamu argued, "Y/N seems to really care for you, you won't find people who unconditionally love you like that a lot." "She doesn't-", Atsumu stopped and mumbled out the rest, barely audible. "Sure, whatever you say. All I know is that either she's still waiting for you in the cold or she's walked out of your life forever. Either way you're being an asshole.", Osamu pulled up his hood and got ready to walk out to the rain. "Watch it you-" Osamu had already left. The volleyball bounced a few times against the floor before eventually just rolling away. Maybe he had been an asshole. He should've at least told you that he wouldn't be going. Atsumu got out his phone to see a single text. You're a douche. It hurt more than he thought it would. He stared at the picture he had set as your profile picture on his phone. You had been going out for a few months. It had been fine but Atsumu had decided to distance himself as of late. Why, he didn't fully understand. No matter what you had still stuck by him and cheered him on. Like a good person. Like a good partner... God he was a douche. Atsumu grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door.

-

Twenty minutes had gone by. You were ready to leave, but were waiting for your face to turn back to normal again. It had gotten red and puffy, not only from your tears but the cold weather aswell. You got out your phone to check your face with the camera app. But as the screen lit up in front of your eyes you noticed that Atsumu had read your message. He hadn't even answered... You heard footsteps running toward you and you stared deeper into your phone so that they wouldn't see your face. Nobody ever walks here, of course that had to change today. The footsteps didn't walk past the bus stop. They actually stopped right in front of you. "You're still here?", it was Atsumu's voice. "It's too late.", you muttered, "Go away." Your eyes stayed on the read mark under your text. "Don't be like that, Y/N...", he sighed, "... c'mon, let's go. You'll catch a cold." "No, just leave me alone.", you put your phone in your pocket and kept looking down at your shoes. "Y/N-" "Why won't you just listen to me?", you cut him off and finally looked him in the eye. He had gotten wet from the rain, but he still didn't step into the bus stop. There was something in his eyes that you couldn't make out. Then again, everything had gotten a bit blurry when you saw him. "You do realize that you're the one that left me waiting out here in the rain?", you sniffled, "Don't even try to make up excuses. I told you that I wasn't going to do this anymore." "I know...", Atsumu sighed as he desperately tried to look for the right words, "... I should've... nevermind. I doesn't matter what I should've done. I know that playing around with your feelings was wrong, and I'm the last person who should say this but... I-" "'I can't see myself without you', yeah sure.", you sighed, "Your apologies won't make this any better you know?" "You're right.", he nodded, "I'm not good with emotions, okay? I'm really trying to say something but I don't know how." "Then just don't and leave me alone.", your words almost hurt yourself more than you thought it hurt him. "I just want you to know that I hadn't realized that I could feel this way.", he admitted, "I didn't come here because I thought it was an easy way out. Clearly it just made everything worse..." "Yeah. You did.", you felt your eyes start to water again, "So then why did you come here again? Why would you do that to me?" You started approaching him, making him back up until he couldn't go any further. He was backed up against a tree on the other side of the road. "Why would you do that!?", you yelled at him and hit his chest repeatedly, "Just leave me alone!" Atsumu didn't run away, he didn't leave you alone. Instead he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in closer, letting you cry against his chest. You had stopped hitting him as soon as you felt his warmth surrounding you. The sound of his fast-paced heart could be heard clearly through his chest and despite being in the rain for so long he was still warm. You cried to your hearts content while Atsumu made small circles on your back with his thumb. "I'm really sorry... I've been a douche.", he whispered, "I'll leave you alone, but not now. Let's get you home so that you won't get a cold, okay?" You hadn't ever heard his voice be this soft. It was as if his words could break you, even though saying those words broke him. "I don't really want you to go...", you admitted, "... I'm still mad at you, and I will be for a while... but I still want you to stay." "Then I'll be here for as long as you want." "I didn't mean it that way.", you leaned your forehead against his chest to fully avoid eyecontact, "I still have feelings for you... and I still would've even if you hadn't showed up at all. Logically I don't want you here anymore... but I don't want to let go." "So..." "Just stay... don't you dare get smug about it.", you said harschly. "I won't. Promise.", he put his head on top of yours. "You better promise to not bail on me again too.", you leaned back to look at him, "This was supposed to be your last chance." "I know, I know... I'll make it up to

you.", he said geniunely, "Promise." The weather started clearing up. As the clouds started getting more scarce the sun started peaking out. It made you feel warm... it also made you realize how drenched Atsumu actually had gotten. "Why didn't you take an umbrella?", you groaned, "You do realize that you can get colds too, right? Why won't you be more careful?" Atsumu let out a laugh and smiled at you. "Don't just smile at me!", you exclaimed and slapped his chest lightly, "You need to take better care of yourself! You're an athlete." "Yeah, yeah.", he said, "You're so naggy." "Well, I have a reason to be.", you huffed. Atsumu brought you back into his embrace again. As he breathed in he closed his eyes. This was safety. This was warmth. This was home. "I'm really sorry... I've been so stupid.", he muttered against the top of your head. "I told you your apologies wouldn't fix this, didn't I?", you sighed, "Just do better." "Yes ma'am!", he chuckled and stepped away from you. It would be a lie if you said you didn't miss his embrace, whether he was cold and wet or not. He held out his hand to you and flashed a bright, charming, smile. The sight before you could be compared to that of a happy dog that had just heard the word "walk" or "park". Even though he had hurt you it felt like it was worth it. You could be an idiot by accepting this, but then you'd just have to complain about it later. Right now it seemed like he wanted to change. "I'll take you home.", he said, "Maybe we could go out tomorrow instead, if the weather allows us." "Sounds nice.", you nodded and took his hand. And change he did.

[vintagedolan]

hands to yourself (gbd)

ethan is sick of the pda and challenges you and grayson to a 3 day no touching bet. but what happens after 72 hours is a different story...

word count: 4.9k

warnings/tags: smut (it’s about damn time ladies), angst, lots of sexual teasing, lets have some fun shall we

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

Many things happened when you were making out with Grayson. Getting clocked in the side of the head with a pillow was not usually one of them. 

“Will you two keep it in your pants for two fucking seconds,” Ethan grumbled, obviously the perpetrator of the flying pillow that had connected with your face a few moments prior. He had good aim, you’d give him that.

“Fuck off,” Grayson grumbled, but he detached his lips from yours, settling to lay on you instead. It wasn’t an unusual position for you to find yourselves in - Ethan in the chair, you and your boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while you watched a movie. Most times you’d be laying on top of Grayson, cheek on his chest, his hand running gently up and down your arm or back. Sometimes he’d lift your shirt some so he could scratch your back, skin soft under his fingers. Other times - like now - he’d be wanting the attention, scooting down and nuzzling up on your chest so you could play with his hair or trace shapes on his skin. 

Either way, it seemed to get under Ethan’s skin. 

“You fuck off, I live here too I don’t need to see you two all up on each other 24/7,” Ethan shot back, obviously annoyed. It didn’t usually bother you - he went through phases where he’d get lonely and be a bit more annoyed at the PDA - Grayson was quite handsy if you were honest. On the other hand though, it could get annoying sometimes. You would like to be able to make out with your boyfriend on your own couch without the comments from the peanut gallery. And it annoyed Grayson 10 times more than it did you.

“Chill guys,” you sighed, not wanting it to get any worse. 

“Nah, we’re about to take a trip in the van and I’m not about to wake up to you two fucking next to me cause you can’t keep it in your pants,” Ethan huffed back, movie long forgotten as he got heated. “You literally cannot keep your hands off each other, it’s gross.”

For some reason, that comment got under your skin a bit more than anything he had said prior. You were a mature adult who could control herself if she wanted to. And you could prove it too. 

“Bet.”

Grayson stiffened, lifting his head. He knew how competitive you could be - it was one of the many reasons he loved you - but combined with Ethan’s inability to lose, it got dangerous sometimes. Bets were never good when they were between you and his brother, and you could tell he was worried.

“What are we betting?” Gray murmured, not liking where the conversation was headed.

“Okay fine.” Ethan perked up a bit, loving an idea of a challenge and completely ignoring his twin. “One week, you all can’t touch each other when I’m around.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Grayson immediately shut it down. You put a hand on his arm, calming him a bit. This was between you and Ethan now.

“A week is too long. I’ll give you three days,” you offered. Grayson turned to you, incredulous. 

“Absolutely fucking not?” He said it to you this time, but you squeezed his arm again, signaling for him to hear you out. 

“I can do three days,” Ethan offered. “But if it’s only three, then you all can’t touch each other at all. Like even when I’m not around. Strict no touching policy for three days. It’ll be a good cleanse for you horny fucks.” 

“Fine,” you agreed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What?!” Grayson balked. You just grinned.

“But. If we make it the three days, you’re never going to say another snide comment about us touching. Ever.”  

Ethan paused at that, really considering what he would be giving up if you managed to pull off the bet.

“Fine. But, if I win, I get to say whether or not you can be all lovey dovey and shit, and you have to listen.” There was a wicked look in his eyes; if he won he’d be ruthless, no doubt. 

There was a whole lot at stake. But the prospect of being able to do whatever you wanted with Grayson, wherever you wanted, without Ethan’s commentary was too good to pass up.

“Deal.” 

“Oh, so I don’t get a say in it? Cool, cause this doesn’t affect me at all,” Grayson chimed in, obviously annoyed. 

“Okay, but how nice would it be if he couldn’t say shit about us,” you quirked an eyebrow at Grayson and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

You were right, and he knew it. 

“Fine,” he conceded, knowing you’d get your way no matter what he said. “I’m in.” 

“Shake on it,” Ethan said, getting up from his chair and walking over to you. You reached out, giving him a firm handshake and a nod. When you let go, he turned his wrist, looking at his watch.

“Alright, it’s 11:35. Time starts now, disperse,” he grinned, gesturing to the two of you. Grayson moved off of you with a huff, scooting to the other end of the couch. 

As soon as he was gone, you realized just what you’d signed the two of you up for.

It was going to be a long 72 hours.

day one

It was only 9am, and tensions were already running high. Ethan wasn’t giving up any ground - he hadn’t even let you and Grayson sleep in the same bed the night prior. Which meant Grayson, being the gentleman he was, let you take the bed and he took the couch. 

So, feeling well rested and in a good mood, you headed for the kitchen. Grayson was there, as you expected, typical avocado toast in hand. But when he saw you, he immediately groaned, dropping his head to the counter as you opened the fridge. 

“What?!” You asked, laughing a bit. When he looked up, you could see the frustration in his eyes.

“Could you at least try to not make this any more fucking impossible than it already is?” 

“I’m just getting yogurt...” you said innocently, holding up the cup you pulled from the fridge only a few moments prior.

“Yeah, but you could at least wear a fucking bra,” he pointed out, eyes trained on your chest. You hadn’t really thought about it - you were in one of Gray’s shirts, which was oversized on you. But now that you looked, you could tell that the cold air of the fridge had made your nipples hard, the ghost of them obvious through the fabric.

“Bras are uncomfortable,” you countered, pointing your spoon at him.

“Yeah? Well so are blue balls.” 

His voice was so serious that you both just stared at each other for a minute, and then you couldn’t help it. You broke first, starting to giggle and then both of you were cackling like middle schoolers. 

Once you’d finally calmed down and wiped away the tears you were crying, you continued eating your breakfast, perched on the counter by the stove. Grayson’s eyes were on you, specifically on your tongue as you licked yogurt off the spoon. 

“You know, Ethan won’t be up for another few hours. He’d never know,” Grayson wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Nah, we don’t cheat in this house. A bet is a bet.”

“Well this bet sucks.” His voice was garbled around the last bite of toast that he was chewing.

“I know. But hey, it’ll be worth it. Then we can do whatever we want, and he can’t say shit,” you reminded him.

“We’re gonna drive him nuts,” Grayson grinned, and just those words sent goosebumps rising across your skin. Stop. Stop that. You couldn’t let yourself get lost in a daydream, especially when you weren’t allowed to touch him - that would just be self torture. 

But it was too late. Now all you could think about was how normally right now, he’d be standing in front of you between your legs, hips pressed against the counter, his hands in your hair, lips on yours.

“Uh... babe? You good?” Grayson’s voice pulled you out of the image. His brows were furrowed, and you watched as he nodded to the floor, where a small dollop of yogurt had splattered. It must have slid off your spoon while you were lost.

“This bet sucks,” you repeated his earlier words, suddenly very much regretting your decision.

“Friendly reminder that you started it,” he grinned deviously. “Were you daydreaming over there?”

“No.” You answered too quickly. Dammit.

“Oh... well in that case, I guess I’m just gonna keep myself busy then. Might go build. Or lay out. Not sure yet.” That mischievous glint was in his eyes and you groaned. He knew exactly what he was doing - something about the focus he had when he was working on a project, with his tool belt low on his hips, sunglasses on and shirtless - it got you weak in the knees every damn time. 

And he knew it too. 

All you could do was glare at him as he got up and washed his plate before heading back to your room. Sure enough, 20 minutes later he was outside, carrying wood across the yard to where his saw was set up. 

You sat in the living room, watching him work while you drank your coffee. Watched his muscles ripple under his skin as he hoisted 2 by 4′s over his head, powerful arms doing it with no effort. He could hold you up with those arms, hold you up while he-

“Good morning, this just in from pining central-”

You turned at the voice, glowering when you realized it was Ethan with a smug grin on his face. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you grumbled, sticking your tongue out at him. 

“Ooooo, touchy,” he teased, reaching out and ruffling your hair. You reached back to slap his shoulder, but you were smiling. “Or... no touchy.” Ethan cracked the joke, obviously proud of himself.

“That was actually terrible,” you shook your head.

“You’re just mad cause you’re gonna lose this bet,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he headed back towards the kitchen to make his breakfast. 

“Not a chance in hell.”

day two

Sleeping on the couch wasn’t ideal, that was for damn sure. Not because it wasn’t comfortable, but because you didn’t have Grayson next to you. After his long day of building you knew that he was sore, and you’d insisted that he took the bed instead. 

But that also meant that he had slept in for once, making your morning mission a little bit harder than usual. You snuck into the bedroom, tiptoeing at first, then walking normal when you realized that he was still snoring. He was curled up on his side, shirtless and sleeping soundly, his left arm curled around a pillow that he was holding to his chest. It took you a minute to realize that this was how you usually woke up, with his arm wrapped around you before you turned over and eased him onto his back so you could cuddle. 

Stupid pillow. You pushed the thought from your mind as best you could, going over to your drawer and picking out a bikini to wear. It was beautiful out, the perfect day to get some sun. You changed quickly, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and your sunscreen before you headed out to the pool. It would at least help you kill a few hours. You were discovering that things were boring when you couldn’t make out with your boyfriend.

It was two hours later when you heard the doors open, signaling that someone was coming out of the house. You peaked over your sunglasses, unsurprised to see Grayson there.

“Did you just wake up?” 

“No. I’ve been awake.” His tone was short, and you frowned. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Don’t play innocent,” he grumbled. You sat up further on the yellow lounge, confused.

“What?” 

“You’re doing this on purpose. Out here, all laid out in a tiny bikini when there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re a tease.” He sat down on the other lounge, staring at you. You could tell he was hard underneath his gym shorts.

“I just wanted to get some sun... But, two can play that game. You’re telling me you building all day yesterday was innocent?” You looked at him accusingly, expecting him to laugh. Instead, his eyes just darkened. 

“Oh, does me building do something to you?” He knew the answer to that. It fueled his ego that him doing something so simple could turn you on so much, and you hated that you had no control over it. “What exactly does it do to you, hmm?”

“Stop it,” you muttered, but your body was reacting anyways. Your skin was flushing just from his words. 

“Stop what? Stop making you wet?” 

“We can’t do anything about it, don’t make it worse,” you pleaded. He was right, you were wet, and you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you right then and there. But you were more strong willed than that. It was only another 30 or so hours. You would make it.

“I’m going to shower,” you said, standing up and heading into the house. You knew his eyes were on your ass, and you were unsurprised that he got up to follow you, carrying your towel in wadded over his dick in case Ethan was out of his room. 

You tried to ignore him as you headed to the bathroom, taking your hair down and starting the water to give it time to warm up. To your surprise, he lifted himself up and sat on the end of the counter, giving himself a perfect view of the glass shower. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Watching.” There was a heat in his voice that went straight through you. You swallowed heavy, turning to him. He got like this sometimes, where his dominant side would come out. Usually it was halfway through sex, when he was pulling on your hair, or when you had a particularly bad attitude and he corrected it quickly with a rough fuck. 

But there was an intensity to this that had your mouth dry as you started to undress under his gaze. You reached behind your neck, pulling on the string that kept your top together. When the bow came undone, the fabric began to fall, though it didn’t fully reveal your tits until you untied the back and it fell to the ground. 

Grayson said nothing, eyes unwavering as you moved to your bottoms. You shimmied out of them quickly, kicking them to the side. Unfortunately, they landed directly in front of him. You knew he’d see the wetness that had pooled in them; it was obvious. That wasn’t going to help matters. 

“We can call off the bet. If you want.” You blurted it out - until the last few minutes you didn’t realize how desperate you were to have his hands on you.

“No. We can’t. Now shower, before we run out of hot water.” 

You did as you were told, walking over into the water and letting it run over your skin. You kept your eyes closed mostly, but you could feel him watching your every move. As you washed your body, your hands lingered over yourself for just a moment, desperate for relief.

“Don’t you dare.” Grayson’s voice was deep and demanding, making your eyes snap open. He very rarely took that tone with you.

“Touching myself isn’t against Ethan’s rules,” you pointed out, knowing it would piss him off to hear his brother’s name right now. If he wasn’t already going to destroy you when he could, he definitely was now. 

“It’s against my rules.” 

Just those words were enough to almost make you cum right there.

Why, why had you made this bet.

day three

Getting out of the house was the only option, you couldn’t take it anymore. Especially after the pent up energy established yesterday, you couldn’t handle the stares and the constant need to have his hands on you. If you stayed too long, you’d break the bet. 

So, you treated yourself to a bit of a shopping spree for the day. You picked out new clothes from a few stores, even picking up a shirt for Grayson you knew he would love, and some shoes for Ethan. You went to lunch, taking your time, even going to get coffee later on. It was a nice break from the tension, though every time you looked at your phone and saw your lock screen - a picture of you and shirtless Grayson in the mirror - it sent tingles down your spine, reminding you of what you were finally getting back tonight.

Your final stop was a lingerie shop. It was always fun to look at all the pretty lace patterns and colors - usually you just window shopped, but you were trying to draw out the process as long as you could. An emerald green number caught your eye, laid out on one of the tables. It was lace and silk, delicate but sexy at the same time. On a bit of a whim, you bought it, adding the bag to those already on your arm as you headed home. You took the long way, happy to see that it was already 7pm by the time you pulled in the driveway. 

Four and a half more hours. That was it. Just four and a half more hours. Surely, you could do it.

When you came in, Ethan was eating cereal, and had already begun sulking. That lifted some of the tension that was hanging over the house, specifically coming from the direction of the living room where Grayson was practicing handstands.

“Awe, is somebody sad they’re going to lose the bet?” You teased, sitting the bags down and digging around for his shoes.

“Time’s not up yet,” he grumbled. 

“Well, I got you a pity gift,” you smiled, passing him the box. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, I’ll need a distraction from you all sucking face constantly,” he rolled his eyes. You knew he’d be grateful for the shoes once he got over his loss. 

“Hey Gray, I got you something,” you called, heading to the living room with your bags. He was still in his handstand and he brought himself down slowly, a smooth landing. 

“Lemme see,” he smiled. The frustration he’d had yesterday was still there, but he was trying to be helpful, as were you. Spending the day apart had made it easier, and with the finish line in sight the both of you were in higher spirits.

“I can’t remember which bag it’s in,” you mumbled, starting to sit them down so you could look through them. Grayson picked one up, and before you could say anything his hand was in it, no doubt feeling the lace and silk. 

He froze, eyes darkening again.

“Is this for later,” he practically mouthed the words, barely speaking so Ethan didn’t hear him.

“It can be,” you whispered back, blushing. He only nodded, a wicked excitement in his eyes. 

After the teasing and tension yesterday, you were a bit worried that your new set wouldn’t even survive the night. He had a bit of a habit of ripping things when he got dominant. You supposed you could just buy another one if you had to.

You kept yourself busy after giving him his shirt, looking for distractions anywhere you could. You ate a quick dinner, then decided to take a nap.

“I’m going to sleep,” you announced to the boys, heading towards your room. 

“It’s 8:30,” Ethan said, confused.

“Well, I’m probably going to have a long night, so,” you grinned at him. Grayson choked, looking up at you. 

“Gross. Go to bed,” E grumbled. You obliged, heading to your room. You killed another hour or so on your phone before realizing that you might actually fall asleep. Not wanting to ruin the surprise, you changed into your lingerie, looking yourself over in the mirror. It was just as flattering as you hoped it would be, accentuating all your favorite areas.

Grayson was gonna lose it. 

You climbed back onto the bed, comforted by the feeling of the soft cotton on your exposed skin. You curled up, getting comfy and eventually drifting off to sleep.

The next thing you felt were two large hands on your waist, putting you on your back.

“What the?” 

“It’s 11:36.” It was Grayson’s voice, and it clicked.

The bet was over. Thank fuck. 

You were suddenly wide awake, and you couldn’t get your hands on him quick enough. His skin was soft and warm as you reached up to his shoulders, running along the muscles until you got to his neck. You pulled his face down to yours, crashing your lips together. You’d never felt anything so good in your life.

“We’re never doing anything like that ever again,” you mumbled against his lips, hands back on his skin, at his waist now, curling around his back trying to pull him closer to you.

“Agreed,” he said, kissing you again before he bailed to the side, reaching over and pulling you on top of him.  And suddenly you were touching everywhere. His thighs were against yours, and you could feel his dick against you, his torso wide and strong beneath you as his hands roamed down your side, over your hip and around to your ass.

“Fuck, you look so good,” he groaned, fingers toying with the fabric of your thong. Your hips bucked at the feeling of his hand on your ass, and it created a delicious friction against his dick that had you starting a rhythm in no time. He sat up then so you were on his lap, gravity causing more pressure as you kept grinding, both of your breathing picking up at the sensation. After the pent up hormones of the last few days, you were sure you could cum just like that, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he did too. 

He reached behind you, unclipping your bra with ease, pulling it off your arms and tossing it across the room. Then, his hands were at your hips, fingers digging into your skin, lips at your neck as you worked him over.

“Surprised you aren’t punishing me for being a tease,” you mumbled, then gasped at the bite that resulted from your words.

“Don’t tempt me, we’ve got all night,” he groaned, moving you a bit faster. You clung to him tighter, grateful that he’d decided to just focus on pleasure tonight. 

“Just wanna feel you.” His words were hardly a warning as he rolled over, putting you back on the bed. He reached behind himself, unlocking your legs from around his waist before he moved down the bed. His hands went to you hips, scooting you up a tiny bit before he hooked his index fingers into the waist of your thong, swiftly discarding it after it was off. 

“Look even better like this,” he hummed, crawling up to kiss you again. You chased his lips when he broke it off, only to gasp a bit when you felt him press a kiss to your collarbone. He moved down, cupping each tit and licking and sucking along your nipples until you were squirming. His progress down your torso was painfully slow, each little nip with his teeth making your whole body jolt. By the time he got to your inner thigh, you were begging.

“Please Gray, please fuck, give me something,” you whined, practically writhing underneath him.

“As you wish.” And then his mouth was on you. He knew you better than anyone - and he wasted no time. He worked you over like the expert he was, tongue flat then fast, with just the right pressure. You never lasted long like this, with your hands in his hair and his hands pinning your hips down to the bed. But this might have been the quickest - it couldn’t have been a minute before you were cumming, pulling on his hair as you let go. Your legs were actually shaking, and he pulled back, thumbs rubbing along your skin as you came down, catching your breath. 

“Holy shit,” you choked out, trying to swallow as you gasped. 

“That was hot as fuck. Didn’t even know you could cum that fast,” he grinned, obviously a bit proud of himself. You didn’t blame him - with that tongue he could have an ego as big as he wanted. He pressed kisses to your hips, then your ribs, the middle of your chest, giving you time to get your breathing back to normal before he caught your lips with his again. 

Now it was your turn. You reached down into his boxers, wrapping a hand around his dick. It was heavy and hard in your hand, but his hiss made you stop your movements. 

“Baby, I’m already not gonna last, don’t need you making it any shorter and bruising my ego,” he huffed, obviously trying to calm himself down a bit. You moved to the waistband of his boxers instead, pushing them down his thighs. He took them the rest of the way off, throwing them in the same direction your lingerie had flown earlier. 

You spread a little wider, reaching for him as he positioned himself over you, his weight on his forearms which were on either side of you. He dipped his hips, teasing you for just a moment, before pushing in. You sighed at the feeling, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding yourself steady so that he didn’t push you up the bed. When he was balls-deep, he kissed your forehead. 

“Missed you,” he whispered, and you could have melted right there. “You ready?”

You nodded - it didn’t matter how many times you did this - he was still big, and it always took you just a minute to adjust. Grayson always gave it to you, making sure he didn’t cause you any pain. 

He lowered himself down so that some of his weight was on you, and then he snapped his hips back, driving into you with a groan. He was everything you could feel and see, his chest against yours, bodies touching everywhere that they possibly could as he started a quick rhythm. 

“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned, voice deep as he went deeper with every thrust, hitting the spot that had your toes curling, nails scraping down his back.

“Jesus fuck Gray, I’m gonna cum again, fuck,” you said, pleasure loosening your tongue. He moaned at that, burying his face in your neck, biting at the skin he found as he sped up his hips.  

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” you squeaked out as your next orgasm hit, every muscle you had clenching up in pleasure. 

“God,” Grayson moaned, somehow moving even faster, holding himself up with one arm while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your hips up to get another angle. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Jesus baby, fuck.” 

And even in your blissed out state, you felt him cum, cock twitching inside you before his weight lowered onto you for a moment, arm still wrapped all the way around you. As soon as he could function, he rolled the both of you over so he didn’t crush you. You didn’t separate at all as you laid on top of him, weak and satisfied as he stayed seated inside you, both of you fucked out and content. 

You knew you were probably making a mess and you neither of you gave a fuck, not moving an inch other than Grayson’s hands wandering, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. Eventually he rolled over, sliding out of you gently with a kiss to your forehead before he got up and went to get a washcloth. He cleaned you up, as well as what was left on the sheets before tossing the rag in the laundry. He pulled his boxers back on before climbing back in bed.

“All good baby girl?” He gave you a soft smile as he laid down. You used the energy you had left to climb back onto him, unwilling to have any space between you at all after the last three days.

“I am now,” you sighed, content just to have his skin on yours. You just enjoyed each other’s presence for a few more minutes, and then you felt Grayson laugh a little bit underneath you, making you sit up just enough to look at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just realized that we won the bet. I kinda forgot, I was just ready for it to be over. But now we can literally do whatever we want and E can’t say shit,” he laughed, hugging you a bit tighter. 

“We could literally have sex in the living room and he can’t say shit,” you grinned, quirking a mischievous eyebrow.

Grayson just shook his head with the biggest smile, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head. 

“Nah. All mine.” 

[skycollides]

Hi are your requests open? If so I LOVEDD the last Billy Russo fic you wrote, with that being said, can you write something with smut&angst? For Billy Russo please

Hello, I love your writing. Can you give me something smutty and filthy for Billy Russo? If your ok with that?

Thank your for reading my work. It means a lot!💜

I combined these to I hope that's okay!

I Need You

Billy Russo x Reader

Authors note: I apologize in advance for grammar or spelling mistakes

English isn’t my native language.

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Requests are open. Feel free to send them in.

Warning: angst, smut, mentions of body fluids, swearing

Words: 2.170

Billy is more and more busy with Anvil. You actually thought after he quit the Army you will be able to spend more time with him, to have him around more often. You always felt so lonely when he left to another tour but having him home now doesn’t change the way you feel. You still feel lonely. Actually you feel more lonely than before. You barely see Billy anymore. You wake up in the morning he is gone, you go to bed at night he’s still out. The only time you see him is when you wake up in the middle of the night. You’ve reached the point where you cry yourself to sleep nearly everyday because you can’t take the distance and these feelings anymore.

It’s time for a change because you don’t wanna continue living like this anymore. You asked your cousin if she would take you in for a couple of days, at least until you know what to do. So here you are packing a bag while crying your eyes out. You’re so scared that this will be the very end of your relationship. Still you are taking only the necessary stuff hoping that you won’t have to stay long. Once you’re done you take the bag and leave your shared apartment.

Billys Pov.

Billy comes home earlier than the last couple of months and he is greeted with an empty apartment.

’’Y/n? Babe where are you?’’ asks loudly but there is no answer. He searches the whole apartment for you but you’re not there. So he decides to text you.

Hey baby,

I’m at home where are you?

It’s lonely without you here.

It takes a few minutes before he gets a reply.

Guess now you know 

how I’ve been feeling since

you came back from the army.

First your head was still over there

and now it is with Anvil.

I’m not really mad Billy, 

more sad but hey people change

maybe it’s a sign that we 

aren’t the people we used to be.

That’s okay! 

Billy reads the text over and over again. He’s now thinking about the past couple of weeks even months and he realizes his mistake. He didn’t give you the attention you deserve and need. He also realizes how much he missed you and how scary the thought of loosing you is.

Come home sweetheart.

Please come home.

I beg you Y/n.

I need you as much as you need me.

I love you.

Billy puts his phone on the coffee table in front of him and hopes that you will return to him.

Your Pov.

You read  the message and hand your phone over to your cousin. She reads the message and looks at you waiting for a reaction. 

’’What should I do?’’ you ask her and she gives you your phone back.

’’Go home and talk to him. I mean you just got here couple of hours ago and I don’t wanna get a rid of you but you two should talk. At some point you’ll have to so why not now.’’

’’Looks like I’ll be going home then.’’ you say and get off the couch.

You take the your stuff hug you cousin and drive home.

———————————————————————————————————————————

’’Hey’’ you say softly and drop the bag. Billy looks up to you and smiles.

’’Hey. Thank you for coming home Y/n. Come here.’’ he says and holds his hand out for you. You walk over to him and sit down next to him.

’’Tell me everything that’s been bothering you Y/n. I know I fucked up. I need to know how much my actions actually did affect you.’’

’’Everything?’’

’’Everything. Don’t hold back Y/n.’’

’’I cried myself to sleep nearly everyday. I feel like shit Billy. I feel like you forget about me, like you don’t care about me anymore. I feel more alone having you here than back then when you were with the Marines. When you were on those tours you at least called me and send me letters. You didn’t bother doing that over the past couple of weeks. The text you sent me earlier - it was the first I love you I received in a really long time. All I know is that I won’t continue living like this. I wont continue feeling like this. I don’t want you to throw away your dreams and I won’t make you chose between me and Anvil.  We have two opportunities right know Billy. Whether we go separate ways, which I don’t want at all or you find a way to have both, Anvil and me. Then you need to work on your time management because I’m not a doll to throw in a corner and get it back when it suits you. What happens now is on you.’’  you say and he gets off the couch leaving you there which makes you cry even more. He soon returns with your favorite blanket and a pack of tissues. He sits down next to you again, hands you the tissues and wraps the blanket around you. You take them gladly, blow your nose and wipe the tears away.

Billy pulls you in his arms stoking your back.

’’I’m so sorry baby. I worked so hard on Anvil, on my future - our future that I forgot what’s most important. You my love. I want to be able to take care of you. While I put all my effort in Anvil I stopped putting effort in us. I stop working on weekends. Saturdays and Sundays are ours from now on and I will be home sooner during the week. All I can say is that I am sorry. I love you with everything I have Y/n you’re the one for me. Don’t give up on me.’’

’’Promise?’’ 

’’Pinky promise’’ he says and holds out his finger.

’’Idiot’’ you say and laugh.

’’There is one question left Y/n.’’ you give him a questioning look at him and raise your eyebrow.

’’How can I make it up to you?’’

’’I’ve got an idea Russo.’’ you say and smirk. You grab his hand and drag him to the bedroom.

’’I love the way your brain works baby.’’ he says and you push him on the bed before you slip out of your dress.

’’Go gonna strip for me?’’ Billy asks.

’’You’re going to make it up to me not the other way around. You Mr. Russo don’t deserve it. So no I won’t be stripping for you and now get out of your clothes.’’ you reply.

’’Someone’s desperate.’’ he says and smirks.

’’Considering the fact that I can’t even remember the last time we had sex, I’m allowed to be.’’ you say as you watch him undress.

’’Well get over here then ba-.’’ before he can fishes his sentence you’re on top of him , straddling him, cutting him off with a kiss. 

’’I need you Billy!’’ you say not caring how desperate it my sound.

Billy pulls his face closer to his, kissing you like his life is depending on it. His hand goes straight to you neck keeping you place. 

’’Get off me Y/n.’’ he says after he releases your lips and you sit down next to him. You take off your bra while Billy takes care of your panties. As soon as you’re completely naked you lay down.

’’Relax baby I’m gonna take care of you.’’ Billy says pushing two fingers in your mouth. You suck on them right away, getting them nice and wet. Billy pulls his fingers out he starts rubbing your clit. You let out a sigh.

’’Can’t believe you’re already this wet for me. We haven’t even started yet.’’ he says and pushes his fingers inside of you. You moan loudly finally being this close to Billy again. He starts to move them in and out slowly, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable since its been a while since you were intimate.

While he is pumping his fingers in and out you start rubbing your clit looking straight into Billys eyes.

’’Does that feel good babygirl?’’ 

’’So good babe’’ you say and whimper as the pleasure is building up more and more.

’’Such a good girl you are Y/n. Are you close baby?’’

’’Yes. Please let me cum.’’ you beg as you feel your orgasm building up.

All of the sudden Billy slaps your hand away and removes his fingers licking them clean.

’’You won’t cum unless my dick’s inside of you. You taste incredible by the way.’’ he says once he is done licking his fingers.

’’On your hands and knees Y/n. NOW!’’ Billy demands and you do as you’re told. He gets behind you right away. His hand moves to his now hard cock, stroking it a few times before bringing it to your pussy. He pushes the head between your folds moving up and down to tease you.

’’Stop teasing me and fuck me Russo!’’

Billy pushes himself inside you carefully. You hold onto his pillow which in laying next to you trying not to cum right away. Once he’s inside you all the way he waits a moment to make sure you okay.

’’Go on babe’’ you say and he starts to push in and out of you faster now making you jolt forward.

’’Fuck Billy just like that. Don’t make me wait that long for you ever again.’’

’’Never again Y/n. Fuck I don’t know how I was surviving without this tight beautiful pussy of yours. Shit you feel so good babygirl.’’ he says and your pussy clenches around him because of it. Billy lets out a low moan. 

’’Tell me what you want Y/n’’ he says and smacks your ass a couple of times.

’’I want you and I want you hard and fast. Destroy this pussy. Show me who owns it.’’ you beg and after those words there’s no holding back for Billy.

He is now slamming his cock in and out has hard and as fast as he can. He grabs a fist full of you hair and pulls you back into his chest. Once you’re up he wraps his hand around your throat choking you slightly while the other arm wraps around your waist holding you in place.

’’That’s what you wanted right? Am I making you feel good babygirl?’’

’’Yes Billy god yes don’t stop.’’ you say and he pushes you down again.

’’Such a needy girl you are. I swear once I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk properly for a week.’’ he says and smack you ass hard again.

Billys movements become more and more irregular and you know he is as close as you are.

’’Billy I need to cum. Please let me cum. I beg you. Please’’ you scream.

’’Cum for me baby. Cum all over my cock.’’ he says and you let go.

You arch you back and Billy can’t hold back anymore as he feels your pussy clench around him.

He finds his release inside of you not stopping to thrust inside of you. The both of you are moaning messes not wanting this feeling to end. He stays inside you for a little longer before slowly pulling out. You’re not able to move. You simply lay there trying to deal with this intense orgasm you’re pretty sure you passed out for a moment.

You feel his and your juices dripping out of you.

’’You were absolutely incredible Y/n. Fuck woman.’’ he says but you don’t reply.

’’You okay there baby?’’ Billy asks as he stokes your back. You turn your head to look at him.

’’Mhmmm’’ is all you get out.

’’You’re dick drunk Y/n’’ he says and laughs.

’’Probably. No one’s fucked me as good as you do.’’ you confess and he smiles.

’’We guess what? Your pussy is the best I’ve ever had and you know my record.’’ he says and kisses you deeply.

’’I love you William Russo.’’ you say and stoke his cheek with your thumb.

’’I love you too Y/n L/n more than anything in this world. Ready for round two?’’ he asks

’’Give me break Russo. Ask me again in 10 minutes.’’ you say and he laughs. Billy gets off the bed and pulls his phone out of his jeans before laying down next to you again.

’’What are you doing?’’ you ask.

’’Setting a timer.’’ he replies as if it’s the most normal, thing in the world.

’’You’re impossible.’’ you say shaking your head.

’’And still you love me.’’

’’True that. By the way just because you fucked me good doesn’t mean you’re off the hook yet.’’

’’That’s fine the night is still young and I meant what I said once I’m done you won’t be able to talk anymore. I will destroy this sweet little pussy of yours.’’

’’That’s a threat?’’

’’No babygirl that’s a damn promise.’’ he says with a smirk.

Taglist:

@justatiredfool

@artemisausten

[daddy-chiluc]

I’ll be here to chase away your Nightmares (Chiluc)

• Fluff with hints of Angst

TW: Mentions of drinking/getting drunk, Nightmares, mentions of character death, wounds/injuries (i.e. bruises and scratches), intentionally hurting the other, panic attack, unaddressed insomnia, unaddressed depression.

• Summary: Childe wakes up in Angel’s Share after a nightmare with only Diluc there to aid him. Of course, the fiery man had done more for him than he would’ve expected.

Diluc’s p.o.v.

———————————————————————

Whether it was the odd sense of nostalgia I felt when I looked at him or the burning hatred I couldn’t tell you...but somehow, for some reason, the Harbinger that was fast asleep in my tavern brought an overwhelming sense of ease and comfort to my night.

It was obvious he was tired. He downed several shots if Firewater before passing out on top of the wooden counter. He’d arrived in his usual uniform, the mask and coat more than likely discarded on a box under the stairway. Just looking at him now I could see just how tense he was, wounds and bruises littered his body here and there, a few peaking out as he breathed.

He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing together as he stirred in his sleep. He must’ve been dreaming...it doesn’t seem to be a pleasant one either. From my spot behind the counter I can see beads of sweat line his forehead. A nightmare. I’ve had my fair share of those to know when it’s bad...but to jolt up, screaming and completely sober after downing more than six shots of Firewater? No, there was something wrong. He panics, his eyes darting around and blurry as he hyperventilates.

I quickly set down the wine glass I had been cleaning and rushed to his side, gently placing a hand on his back as I pulled him to my chest. Even for someone I’d consider my enemy, simply witnessing what he was going through was enough to make my stomach churn with uneasiness.

“Childe, breathe.” I say loud enough for him to hear as I gently card my fingers through his ginger locks. Perhaps my actions were far from normal — especially since they had been toward Childe. But, seeing him so...so scared, only triggered one reaction from me. Maybe, just maybe, it had been the right reaction because I felt him grip onto my white vest as he cried into my chest, the sobs making my heart ache. To see him so broken like this was almost uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to help, I knew my actions were out of character but it feels like the right thing to do now.

He gasped in my arms, trying to catch his breath as I felt his body tremor in my arms. A panic attack? I’m not entirely sure but I think that’s what this is. I’m not experienced enough to handle this...shit. With a sudden idea coming to mind, I sigh, thankful that the tavern’s been closed up. Gently, I ease him onto the floor with me, sitting him beside me as I brought his head to my chest. I slowed my breathing as I spoke softly.

“Breathe with me, alright Tartaglia? In...and out...,” I continue the words as I take deep, slow breaths in and out. I slip off one of my gloves, letting my bare hand gently rub his head, his fluffy orange strands shifting around my fingers. The grasp he has around my waist slowly starts to loosen as his once irregular breathing slows down. He lifts himself from my chest and rubs at his eyes with his thumb.

“Shit...” he hisses at himself as he rests his head against the wall of the counter with a slight thud. His expression screams with exhaustion, the circles under his eyes are far more prominent than I remember...that or I just never cared enough to notice. His facial features seem to relax in a sort of numbness as he hangs his head forward.

“Sorry about that...” he chuckles to himself, rubbing his eyes forcefully in the palms of his hands, “I’ll be taking my leave now, thank you for serving me Diluc.” He mutters as his body slumps farther forward.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a room here in Mondstadt, don’t worry I’ll be out of your hair before dawn.” He grunts as he stands, his usually tall build becoming so much smaller.

“You know you don’t need to apologize for that. It was obvious whatever nightmare you had was horrifying enough to wake you up like that.” I try to alleviate whatever self deprecating thought he was thinking. He turns to me and that’s when it clicks. That’s the look of a torn and broken man. That was more than a nightmare to him...it was real enough to send him into a panic attack upon waking up.

I stand up and walk briskly in his direction, grabbing our things and the keys to the tavern. He stares at me, confused as his eyebrows knit upward. I sigh as I nod my head towards the door.

“Come on, let’s go.” He seems to flinch at the words I said, looking baffled by my actions. I await for a teasing remark but nothing comes.

“Where are we going?” His voice is raspy from his crying, his broad shoulders dropping as he tries to relax.

“Back to the Winery, now hurry up before Mondstadt’s gates shut for the night.” I deadpan as he ushers over to my side. I blow out the candles and lock up Angel’s Share, Childe hot on my heels. The rest of the walk back to the Winery is silent, the moon beaming high in the night sky as our boots clicked against stones and eroded bricks that were buried in our pathway. When we arrive Adeline rushes to my side, grabbing our coats as I ask her to find suitable sleeping garments for Childe tonight.

I turn around and his eyes are dull with exhaustion. He tries to wave off the need for sleepwear as he trudges over to one of my couches. I’m quick to rush over to him and drag him away from the cushions.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles as he sways just a bit.

“You aren’t sleeping on the couch.” I grumble, deciding my excuse would be ‘I’d rather not have him dirty my couch with his muddy boots’. I’m sure he’d buy that wouldn’t he? Perhaps that’s an excuse for me more than it is for him. He groans, his head coming down on my shoulder as he grasps at the thin fabric of my black button up hidden behind my white vest.

“Why not ‘Luc?” He slurs, on the verge of falling asleep where he stood. I don’t respond, deciding to put my attention elsewhere, Adeline becoming the perfect escape. Once the clothes are in my hands, I help Childe up the stairs to my own room.

“Get changed.” I shove the clothes in his direction and it’s slow but he slips off his maroon shirt. I can hear him wince as he grounds himself against the end of the bed frame.

“I’m not sure if it’s okay for me to sleep tonight.” He mutters, as he looks at my floorboards.

“You need it. You’re exhausted.” His eyes slowly look up at me, his head following soon after as he gulps — his adam’s apple bobbing before he licks his chapped lips. A harsh laugh breaks his throat as he shakes his head.

“I’m really not worth your generosity Diluc,” he seems to be a little more awake this time. It’s as if he’s not allowing himself to sleep. Agitated, I myself grab clothes to sleep in, turning my back as I start to work on my tie and vest.

“I can leave...” he says sheepishly, his voice small, not as boisterous as what it should be. I turn to look at him over my shoulder and notice he’s looking straight down, trying to respect my privacy. Gods, who would’ve guessed I’d have a soft spot for a sleep deprived Childe? Slipping on the white button up, I turned back around and studied his form. Scars were across his chest and torso, some along his shoulders and a few peaking along his neck, possibly stretching down his back.

I blink, trying to not be a creep as I stride over to him and cupped his face. His eyes were wide, awake, vibrant as they looked up at me. No. No, don’t look at me like that. Don’t you dare look at me with such longing and admiration. I can feel him relax as his arms go slack between his legs. I can see his fingers twitch as tears well up in his eyes.

“F-fuck,” he stutters as he pulls his face away, tears rolling down his cheeks, “A-a warning...next time would be nice.” He stammers, as he grips at the bed sheets with one hand and wipes away his tears. He curses at himself for crying for the second time this night as his chest heaves. He seems frustrated with himself? To be honest, it’s rather endearing to see his façade finally break away.

“Tartaglia?” He seems to choke on air as he stands up abruptly, his tall build looming over me. He goes to grab his maroon shirt from the floor but I’m quick to summon my claymore to pin the shirt down to the floor boards. He laughs, empty and cold as he stands straight up again.

“I liked that shirt.”

“Adeline can fix it in the morning, now finish getting dressed and get your ass in bed.” My stern tone makes him look at me, not out of disbelief but something softer. Calmer. More at ease. Sighing in defeat, he complies slipping the shirt on before I turn away so he can slide on the pants I had given him. While he crawls in bed, his back facing me, I slip on my black, legging pants, the top reaching to the middle of my stomach allowing me to tuck in the white shirt. He roles over, his hair pooling against the pillow as he watches me undo my hair from its tie.

There’s that look again. The look of adoration. Of an untamed affection that he’s just barely keeping subdued. He goes to say something, his mouth gaping for a moment as I slide in next to him.

“Why did you bring me to your home? And to your bed?” He asks quietly, his voice mingling gently with the crickets just outside.

“You’re in no shape to sleep alone, emotionally, physically or mentally. Besides, I’d rather you pass-out in my sheets rather than in the middle of battle. If you die I can’t beat the shit out of you.” I hum, trying not to show too much concern but the smile he gives tells me he knows everything I’m trying to hide.

“Right.” He whispers as he turns on his back to stare up at the ceiling, an arm behind his head as he takes deep breath. Not another word is exchanged as I roll over, my back facing him as I myself try to sleep. I’m not sure whether it’s been minutes or hours but even in my drowsy state I can hear him shuffling.

“What’re you doing?” I mumble as I roll to face him.

“Can’t sleep.” Far too tired to care about my own actions, I open my arms for him and I can practically feel his hesitation.

“You’re sleepy, you don’t want to cuddle me.” He says more to himself than to me.

“Would you shut the fuck up and come here.” I grumble, far too irritated to argue with him as I pull him to my chest myself. I can feel him slump in my arms, his hefty build relaxing against mine as his arm wraps around my waist to pull me closer as his head hides away in the crook of my neck. He breathing slows as he starts to fall asleep.

“Can we keep what happened tonight between us? He asks sheepishly as he pulls away, wincing from his wounds once more. I nod, far too tired to do anything else I pull him back into my embrace. In my head I knew that what I was doing may have been wrong...but it felt like the right thing to do. It was obvious he was hurting. I feel him relax against me before he twitches awake — a cruel and seemingly endless cycle the Harbinger goes through.

“What’s wrong Tartaglia?” I question with closed eyes, as I cradled the back of his head in the palm of my hand. He’s silent for a moment before he speaks.

“Just...anxious.”

“To sleep?” He nods, not daring to answer for a moment. I open my eyes this time and look down at him. He seems far more disappointed with himself than he was at the tavern.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I trace his cheekbone with my thumb.

“Just feel pathetic.” He mutters not pulling away from my warmth for even a second.

“Why?”

“...”

“Why Tartaglia?” I push on pulling my head away from his to study his bloodshot eyes.

“I’m not supposed to cry...I also don’t want to be a bother.” The nightmare must’ve fucked him up horribly for him to even share something this personal with me. The dead look in his eyes returns as he doesn’t even bother to make eye contact... Just minutes ago there was that excited, elated glow. How could it have left so quickly? Without another word I roll enough to push the clear curtains back and crack open the window the bed was pushed up against.

As a soothing breeze hurries in, I gently pull his head from my chest to look at his eyes. He’s wide awake again...he’s not letting himself sleep. I run my fingers through his hair and down his spine, his body curling towards me.

“‘M sorry...” he mutters, his hand clutching the bed sheets as tired tears prick his eyes.

“I’m not accepting your apology.” He’s stunned for a moment as his heavy body relaxes further into the linens, “You are not pathetic for crying and you are not a bother to me. I chose to help you sleep tonight because I couldn’t bare the guilt or thought if I left you alone after what I witnessed.”

“Besides...crying is what makes you human.” He seems to mutter something about Snezhnaya before he cups my cheek, that faint glow in his eyes returning. He seems hopeful. Relaxed. He pulls me closer to his body, curling around me as I feel his arms become heavy.

“Thank you Diluc...”

“You’re welcome.”

It’s silent again yet neither of us dared to close our eyes, far too worried about the other. Too worried about the possibilities the night could bring...and the anxiety of what our dreams would end up haunting us with. Which ever came first; it was a horrid race of the inevitable...or so I thought. Childe’s movements were kept to a minimum, almost as if he were scared to move. At this rate we’ll end up passed out by morning.

He winces for the umpteenth time as he moves away to lie on his stomach. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if I helped him with his wounds. They seem untreated and I’d rather have them disinfected before morning. I sit up cautiously, trying not to alert him as I search for a first aid box.

“Do you need me to leave?” He rasps as he turns to look at me.

“No, just stay there.” It’s quiet once more, his almost pained, labored breathing filling the room. Striding back to the large bed, I sit on the edge as I pat the space beside me. He shuffles over steadily, as he comes to a cross legged position by my side.

“I need you to take off your shirt.” The teasing remark I expected never came as he complied. The wounds and scratches are far more visible.

“I can just heal myself. It won’t be perfect but...I do have a hydro vision.”

“If they aren’t handled properly they’ll get infected.” The words are far more sincere than I would’ve liked, but they’re ignored as my fingers tread thoughtfully along his abdomen, my movements languid as I keep the pain to a minimum while he eyes me like a hawk. I cleanse his cuts and spread a thin ointment over his bruises, a sharp wince leaving his throat as he grips onto the bed sheets.

“I’m trying to be gentle...”

“I know, it’s fine...” instead of the suffocating, noiseless atmosphere that had filled the room minutes ago, there was a peace that has made the both of us relax just a little bit more.

“How long have you had these wounds?” I sigh out, almost frustrated with him for not going to see a healer as soon as he had these wounds.

“Since this morning I think? I had a mission in Liyue.”

“You didn’t care to stop to see a healer?”

“Didn’t have the time...but if avoiding a healer allows me to be healed by you I just might avoid healers from now own.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” I seethe, digging my fingers into a bruise on his shoulder. He doesn’t wince or tell me to stop. He doesn’t react at all. Strange, I may have to poke around on that later. I deliberately wrap his body in bandages, taking my time so the bandages aren’t too tight or too loose. Tying a knot at his waist, I help him put his shirt back on as I help ease him back into the bedsheets.

When we crawl in, his eyes don’t leave me for a second. Whether he was studying me or not I couldn’t tell...but when his bare fingers traced the veins of my hands, it made me far more alert of his presence. The scars and callouses that covered his hands were a sudden contrast that eased me, making me relax next to the Harbinger.

“If you don’t mind me asking...what was your nightmare about?” I prodded hesitantly, watching as he takes in a heavy, shaky breath, a sharp flinch in his hand at the question. It must’ve been terrifying.

“If I tell you, you can’t ask any questions.” The statement comes slowly, hesitant to even answer my question.

“If you’re that uncomfortable to tell me then I won’t pressure you.” He rolls away, flat on his back as he stares up at the ceiling, almost lost in thought.

“It was a new nightmare...one I’ve never had before.” A new one?

“Just how often do you have these nightmares?” He’s silent. Dead silent. Possibly the quietest he’s ever been around me.

“They come often...but sometimes I can’t remember them by morning.”

“What time do you wake up after these nightmares?”

“Probably around the middle of the night. I don’t really get a lot of sleep because of them.”

“Is that why you come to my tavern so often? To get drunk enough for you to pass out? You said to me you came just to annoy me... You wanted to hide that you couldn’t sleep.” As the pieces of the puzzle connect perfectly to me, he turns his head, a sad smile gracing his features.

“So what was your nightmare about? You were practically drunk when you passed out.”

“You keep saying I was drunk. I wasn’t drunk. Just tipsy. It takes a lot of shots of Firewater to get me drunk Diluc,” he groaned, irritated.

“So you’re telling me, it takes you more than seven shots of Firewater to get drunk?”

“I’m from Snezhnaya Diluc, I can drink Firewater like it’s water.” He chuckles lightly as he rests a hand behind his head. Right, he’s from Snezhnaya.

“Either way, I still had to help calm you down... I won’t judge you over the nightmare you had.” He starts to talk slow and steady, not trusting his own voice, eyes still focused on the ceiling.

“I had...a uh....I had a nightmare that...that you were in trouble. I tried to save you and...and you were dead in my arms. I know because I tried to listen to your heartbeat.” He took in a deep shaky breath as he turned his head to look at me, pale crystalline blue eyes glossed over as they met my scorching ruby ones. I have so many questions. What happened? Did he see me get hurt? Was I already dead or did I die in his arms? Why was I in his nightmare anyway? Did finding me dead send him into that much of a panic?

“So did hearing my heartbeat help? When you woke up?” He let out a breathy laugh, more relaxed at my question as he fiddled with his fingers.

“You have no idea how much that helped.”

“Would you like to listen to it now? See if it helps you tonight?” He tenses, his head quickly turning to me with wide eyes. His expression screams ‘you’d let me do that?’ and for a brief moment I can feel my heart ache for the second time tonight.

“I...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I mean you already hate me—,”

“I hate watching you struggle to fall asleep more, now would you like to or not? It’s getting late.” I mumble, tears filling my eyes as I yawn. I hear his breath catch in his throat as he rolls onto his side. He tears at the dry skin of his lips, thinking to himself.

“What if I wake you up? I can’t even sleep right now.”

“Damn it Childe.” I groan, unconcerned of his worry for my well being as I pull him onto my chest his head turned to listen to my heartbeat as it thundered quickly from the sudden movement.

“Go. The fuck. To sleep. If you wake up, I’m right here to help.” I yawn once more as I run my fingers through his hair again as I start to doze off myself.

“M’kay?” I question as I curl into his warmth, lightly draping my arms around him in a loose hug, far too tired to care that a Harbinger was in my sheets with me.

“Okay Diluc...” he whispers as he holds onto my waist tightly, grasping onto my shirt.

“‘Kay.” I finish, my eyes fluttering shut, “Goodnight Tartaglia.” His name is slurred together once they leave my lips.

“Sweet dreams Firefly.”