#i must admit i did not expect that (and i was afraid of my voice not dropping at all)

[belit0]

This is incredibly specific so feel free to ignore me. 😘 Would you mind writing hcs for Itachi with an s/o who was pregnant but didn't find out until the day he killed his clan off? And he didn't find out until he snuck into their house just to see them again while they were asleep the first time he came back to the village. And maybe his s/o wakes up and is still very much in love with him and tells him about his kid?

If you do decide to toss this, I still love your writing and hope you have a wonderful day!

No ignoring! Sometimes (very often I must admit) I take my time to respond, and although late, it always happens. So here we go!

He never meant to come back.

It was foolish—no, reckless—to even step foot inside Konoha again, but the pull was unbearable. Like an ache woven into his very bones, a longing so deeply ingrained that ignoring it became impossible. He only meant to look, to confirm that she was alive, breathing, existing beyond the bloodstained past he had left behind.

He never expected this.

Her house is smaller than he remembers, tucked away in a quiet corner of the village, untouched by time or war. The same curtains sway against the open window, the scent of chamomile tea and lavender drifting in the air, as it always did when she was still his.

She sleeps curled on her side, chest rising and falling in a soft, rhythmic motion, utterly unaware of the shadow standing in her doorway. Moonlight spills across her features, and for a fleeting moment, Itachi allows himself to feel. To imagine a life where he had never walked away, where he had never—

Then he sees it.

A small, sleeping form beside her, tiny and peaceful, half-hidden beneath the blankets.

His breath stops.

For a long, excruciating moment, his mind refuses to process what his eyes are showing him. He stares, unblinking, heart hammering against his ribs, and-

No.

No, it’s not possible.

And yet, as his gaze roves over the child’s face, as he notes the shape of their small nose, the curve of their jaw—he knows. The realization slams into him like a kunai to the chest, sharp and merciless, ripping apart every carefully constructed wall he had built around himself.

A child.

His child.

The air leaves his lungs in a quiet, barely-there exhale. His fingers tighten against the fabric of his cloak as something unnameable, something he has not allowed himself to feel in years unfurls in his chest.

He wants to move closer, needs to, but his body betrays him, rooted in place by the sheer weight of this discovery.

And then, she stirs.

He watches, helpless, as her lashes flutter open, as her body shifts ever so slightly, until her eyes meet his.

For a single, fragile moment, there is nothing but silence.

Then—

-…Itachi?

Her voice is barely above a whisper, raw with disbelief, with something dangerously close to hope. She pushes herself up on her elbows, blinking rapidly, as if afraid he will disappear if she looks away.

He should leave. He must leave.

But he doesn’t.

He stands there, immobile, as she rises from the bed, as she step closer, the distance between the two shrinking with every hesitant breath. He does not flinch when she reaches for him, fingers ghosting over his sleeve as if testing whether he is real.

And then, softly, brokenly, she says it.

-You have a son.

His entire world tilts on its axis.

The words land like a blade to the heart, sharp, irreversible, and everything inside him stills. The years of discipline, of cold, unshakable control... It all unravels in an instant.

-…When?- His voice is hoarse, barely above a breath.

She swallows, fingers tightening against the fabric of his cloak. -I didn’t know,- she admits, voice thick with emotion. -not until the night you— She falters, and he knows what you mean. -the night he killed them all. I— Her gaze flickers to the child still sleeping soundly, unaware of the storm raging between her. -I couldn’t tell you. You were gone.-

Gone.

Gone, and yet here he is, standing before her, a man who does not belong to this life anymore. A man who has condemned himself to a path that has no place for love, for family, for—

His child.

His breath shudders. He forces himself to look, to really look at the small body curled beneath the blankets, to take in the tiny hands, the soft hair, dark, like his own.

A part of him. Left behind without his knowledge.

A part of him that should not exist, and yet—

-I didn’t tell anyone,- she continues, softer now, as if afraid speaking too loudly will shatter the fragile moment between them. -No one knows. Just me.-

And now, him.

The weight of it is suffocating, but he cannot move. Cannot breathe, cannot think.

She searches his face, desperate, looking for something... Anything. -Say something,- she whispers.

He doesn’t know what to say.

Because this was never meant to happen.

Because he should not have come back.

Because the child sleeping mere feet away is the one thing in this world he cannot have.

But she is still looking at him, still waiting, and despite everything—despite the agony tearing him apart from the inside out—he cannot deny her this.

So he reaches out.

Slowly, hesitantly, his fingers brush against her cheek, the first touch in years, the first time he has allowed himself the selfishness of feeling her beneath his hands. Her breath hitches, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he allows himself to imagine—

A different life.

One where he never left.

One where he could kneel beside the bed, trace his fingers over his son’s small hands, press a kiss to her forehead, and whisper:

I am here.

But that life does not belong to him.

So instead, he lingers—just for a second longer. A second too long.

And then, with the gentlest touch, he pulls away.

Her eyes widen. -No—

-It’s better this way.- His voice is soft. Resigned.

She shakes your head, hands clutching at his cloak, as if she can hold him here, keep him from slipping away like a ghost in the night. -Itachi—

-I should not have come.

A lie.

He had to come.

She doesn’t let go. -Stay.-

His heart clenches.

He cannot.

Instead, he does the only thing he can do.

He memorizes.

The shape of her lips. The warmth of her hands. The faint, lingering scent of chamomile and lavender. The steady rise and fall of his child’s breath.

And then—

He vanishes.

[water-weaving]

possibly the wildest part about transitioning so far is the way my voice dropped, like, 3 octaves. my singing voice especially. i'm a baritone now?? for context i've done classical/choir singing pretty extensively in my youth(tm) and i was the highest-pitched soprano with a range that spanned from C5 to E6 (when it is now - untrained so it's not good - like E3 to A4). with training i can feel i could get both lower and deeper which is absolutely insane

[taro-bae]

Twisted Wonderland - Third Years

Summary: reacting to you falling asleep in their room

Characters: Third Years

CW/Notes: gn!reader, fluff, Slight Book 7 Spoilers! (Malleus's part), mostly written as platonic but its up to the reader

Trey Clover

Trey makes it to his dorm room after a hustling day of classes and vice-warden duties. He's ready to just sit down and relax his muscles for the afternoon. As soon as he steps inside his room, he recognises a familiar figure lying in his spacious bed on his clover plush. Trey smirks a little amused by your choice of sleeping space. He makes sure the lights are off making his way towards you. He shifts your body to put the blanket covers over you.

Trey is like the older brother of Heartslabyul. He has younger siblings and knows how to take responsibility for others. Taking off his dorm Uniform hat and jacket, he settles at a respectful distance away from you, just resting his eyes with a hand behind his head. He watches you as you stir awake. "Sleep well, sleepyhead?" Trey says with a teasing smirk looking at your slightly dishevelled appearance.

Cater Diamond

After the unbirthday party, Cater returns, eyes locked on his phone as he edits and goes through all the photos he has taken during the day. He walks into the room, still looking down at his phone until he notices a silhouette hugging his smily plushie. Cater immediately goes to his camera, tip toeing towards the bed.

He takes multiple photos thinking just how cute you look with your cheek flushed and soft against the pillow. Cater hovers over you to snap different angles and profiles. "Aww, such a cutie~" Their cheeks look so soft, " He thinks in his head, trying not to wake you up. He reaches over to poke your cheek, snapping a picture at the same time. Minutes later, you are on Magicam for everyone to see, and Cater has no shame. There are plenty hashtags describing just how cute he thinks you like #sleepingbeauty #cutiepatootie #sweetcheeks

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is not pleased. Leona did sense you before even making it into his room by your scent. He scowls, seeing the person lying in his bed. "Stupid herbivore" His tail swishing behind him in annoyance. "Oi, wake up" Leona says bluntly, standing over you. When you refuse to get out and won't budge he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Move over. Now".

Leona slumps over on the bed, spreding his limbs out. He doesn't care at this point. He shifts over, pulling you into his body. "Since ya not gonna listen, you'll be my pillow," He says in a gruff voice. His tail is thumping against the mattress, but he likes how comfortable this is. He will never admit it, though. Leona has a sense of pride that you're not afraid to be near him, let alone dare fall asleep in his room. "Not a word or ya out. I need my nap". He's out within seconds.

Rook Hunt

Rook already knew you were in his room. Most likely, it was his works doing, a set up to get you into his room. Being a hunter, he knows exactly what's happening were and he keeps his diligent eyes on you. Rook returns to his room, where you sleep with an adoring look on his face. "Such a darling, Mon ange ♡" He's absolutely mesmerised by your beauty and peaceful, vulnerable state. He sees beauty in everything. To him, you're like a work of art in itself.

Rook watches over your sleeping face and body. The way your body rises with each breath to the small movement of your face. He takes in every detail. At some point, he takes out his phone to snap a few photos of you. He's so stealthy you'll never know he did. Just be warned you'll end up on his secret wall behind the wallpaper in his room. He's a questionable one.

Vil Schoenheit

The last thing Vil expects is to find someone in his room when he returns. Let alone finding someone in his bed, that's just unacceptable. He lets out a small cough before he speaks, "Wake up this instant." Vil makes his way across the room. "You mustn't sleep in such attire, and sevens forbid in my bed. One must always wear clean pyjamas and do a proper skin and hair routine prior. Which you clearly have not done."

Vil would scold you and point out your eyebags or tired look, warning about the consequences of overworking yourself. You have no choice but to follow through with his routine as he applies beauty products on your face and hair. If you complied well, he might just let you stay and rest up. "Very well...I'll permit you to stay. But don't make a habit out of this. " His voice is authorative, but without a bite to it. Vil actually secretly enjoys pampering you with some self-care and sharing his knowledge.

Idia Shroud

What was he doing out of his room in the first place? Who knows. When Idia comes back, it's an instant panic and internal turmoil. He nearly yelled but slapped his hands over his mouth. "What are they doing here! This can't be happening IRL! What do I do? They'll be mad if I wake them up!" He is slouched over, fiddling with his hoodie string, trying to decide what to do. His heart is pounding in his chest, the phrase "why me? Why my room?" Running through his head at a hundred miles per hour.

He can't help but stare at you, a small smile tugging at his blue lips. "No, stop! That's creepy. Cringe behaviour. They'll think you are a creep!" Idia snaps himself out of the trance but can't bring himself to wake you up. He huddles over near his desk, distracting himself with a game occasionally glancing at you sleeping with the ends of his hair pink.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is surprised to find anyone in his room. He appears looming over the sleeping form eyes slightly widened as he observes your state. Malleus is rather glad that you're here, making his room seem less lonely. He is pleased that you are not afraid of him and comfortable enough to sleep not only in his room but remain asleep in his presence.

Malleus ensures the room suits your comfort, moving the blankets over you. "You're an interesting cause, child of man. A truly endearing sight." Malleus watches over you, ensuring you only have pleasing dreams and a deserved rest. After a short passing of time, He starts humming a melody. A lullaby.

"My eyes are watching over you still, let’s be together. With no fear, even if we wake from this dream"

His low voice echoes through the room, sensing you into a deeper sleep. That guaranteed would be the best sleep of your life.

Lilia Vanrouge

His room is a mess stuffed with artefacts and the most random things. Lilia finds you tired and fast asleep in his room. He sees this as a perfect opportunity to give you a little scare. Hanging off the ceiling, he yells out a "boo!" Causing you to wake up. "Khee hee," he plays it off by acting cute. "Fu-fu~ look at you all worn out, little one." Lilia doesn't miss a chance to tease you.

His red eyes sparkle with mischief. "Oh, I'm just messing around. Go back to sleep, I'll watch over you~" Says the man who just woke you up for giggles. Once you're off to sleep again, Lilias caring side steps in. He ensures you are safe and well rested, letting you sleep in his room, even on him, as he pats your head affectionately. Lilia is very parental and will guard your sleep from any nightmares.

[justmymindandstuff]

your beloved Fury - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

based on this ask.

summary: Cregan meets your beloved Dragon Vermithor for the first time. He is more than scared, he is terrified. Not that he would ever admit that to you.

words: 3.281

warnings: none I think, just a bit fluff

a/n: English is not my first language// Reader is Rhaenyras daughter and described with dark hair // Not proofread// No use of Y/N.

Have fun 🧡.

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Excitedly, you run ahead of him and pull on his hand. Happiness and joy radiate from you, your steps are light, you almost bounce off the ground. Cregan follows you laughing through the gardens of the Red Keep. At the sight of your happy state, his heart beats faster and he can't wipe the smile from his face, even though he would prefer to hide today. Your destination is your dragon, Vermithor. The last few days Cregan found excuses, but today he really couldn't come up with anything.

With wide eyes, you had looked at him. "But My Lord, how can you become my husband in three days without knowing my dragon?"

Cregan had to acept defeat. What could he say against this? That he is terrified to meet your Dragon? Not an option.

When he rode south to keep his word and support the queen, he never expected to fall in love.

Cregan arrived just in time to prevent a riot in King's Landing and to stop the storming of the Dragonpit. It took a few days for Queen Rhaenyra's rule to be secured, but know everything starts to settle down.

The only thing for Cregan to do know was going home to Winterfell. But not without you.

Cregan had just come from a council meeting when he saw you for the first time. Jace had mentioned a twin sister back then, and he knew that all Targaryens are good looking but as your eyes meet, he had to pause in his movement. Gods, you are beautiful.

"You must be Lord Stark." you slightly lowered your head before him. "A hero, I have heard. It is an honor to meet you."

Your voice is like music to his ears, and when you smile at him, his heart skips a beat.

"The honor is entirely... entirely on my side... Princess." he had stuttered. Cregan doesn't know when he last stuttered. He falls in love at that moment.

The gods were on his side, because you apparently feel the same as he did. You asked your mother for her blessing to your betrothal and the queen agreed.

So Cregan and you will marry in three days and after that you will join him on his journey back north. And wherever you go, your dragon Vermithor will follow.

For the last few days, Cregan has been able to avoid getting too close to the dragon. Unfortunately, today he doesn´t find a excuse. The thought of facing the dragon alone brings sweat to his forehead. Northman or not.

Not that he would ever admit that he is afraid. He wants to impress you. And besides, neither you nor your siblings are afraid of dragons. Your little brother Viserys is barely a toddler, but he still treats the fire-breathing monsters like they were puppies. Cregan can be just as brave as the little prince.

Arriving in the castle courtyard, two horses are already ready for you. Cregan hesitates again, watching you mount elegantly.

"Are you ready, My Lord?" you ask and look at him. The sun makes your skin shine, the strong contrast between your light skin and your dark curls, the deep violet of your eyes. Cregan's body begins to tingle. You are a sight for sore eyes. And when you call him my Lord with your beautiful voice, Cregan's heart explodes every time. Your voice is full of affection and love. Cregan can hardly believe his own luck. He enjoys the sight of his future bride for another heartbeat before he nods and also mounts his horse.

You turn your horse and ride off, as the guards prepare to follow you, you address them.

"No need to trouble yourself, Ser. I don't need any guards today."

"But my princess, you cannot ride out alone, it is still too dangerous."

"Don't worry, Ser. I have the honorable Lord Stark by my side." you grin at him and Cregan has to concentrate on not turning as red as a foolish boy.

The guards stay behind, and you ride side by side through King's Landing. When you don't steer your horse towards Rhaenys's Hill, Cregan stops briefly.

"We're not riding to the Dragonpit?"

You shake your head slightly, your dark hair blowing around you. You quickly swapped your Targaryen braids for northern hairstyles. A fact that filled Cregan's heart with warmth.

"Vermithor is too large for the Dragonpit. He lives in the Kingswood."

Cregan has to suppress a sigh. Of course, your dragon is too big for the Dragonpit, what else. With a cramping stomach and sweaty hands, Cregan rides on again. Quickly, you leave the city behind and ride into the forest.

The Lord of Winterfell takes a deep breath and relaxes a little. Now that the loud city is behind you, Cregan realizes once again how much he misses the peace in Winterfell. Not even a week more and he would be on his way home. And you will already be his wife.

"Why are you smiling?" you tiltel your head slightly and look over at him, your horse trotting along the path relaxed, seeming to know exactly where it needs to take you. Cregan didn't even notice that a smile had crept onto his lips.

"I was just thinking that you will very soon be my wife," he replies honestly. Your smile widens, the sparkle in your eyes intensifies, and Cregan thinks you become more beautiful with every passing second.

"I am looking forward to being your wife." you say. Although a slight blush creeps into your cheeks, you hold his gaze. Cregan would most like to lean over and kiss you, if only for the briefest moment. But he would never dishonor a princess. He just has to wait three more days and then he can kiss you as long and as often as you allow him. Cregan can be patient. "But first, you will meet Vermithor." you speed up your horse, excitement radiates from you, but Cregan's fear is stronger. Nevertheless, he speeds up his horse to catch up with you.

He has to swallow before he can speak again. "I thought dragons bonded with riders who resembled them," the young lord recalls from the few lessons he received about dragons long ago.

You slightly furrow your eyebrows. Did Cregan say something stupid? Or did he upset you? But when you respond, there isn't a trace of anger in your voice.

"Why do you think Vermithor is not like me?"

To his own surprise, Cregan has to laugh. "I heard they call Vermithor the bronze fury. And my Lady, please don't be angry with me, but you don't seem like a person who harbors much fury." if Cregan is honest, you are one of the gentlest people he has ever met. In this viper-infested place like King's Landing, you seem to him like a beacon of gentleness and grace.

Now it's you who is laughing, the sound makes Cregan's skin tingle pleasantly. "You have never seen my wrath because I have never been angry with you, my Lord. You should be glad about that."

Cregan's lips curl into a grin. "Should I?" he asks challengingly. He can hardly imagine you ever being truly angry. It doesn't seem to suit you at all. But he knows himself that he shouldn't underestimate your Targaryen temperament.

"I have five younger brothers, My Lord. Don't think that a charming smile and a little teaser could unsettle me. And believe me when I say I can stand my ground very well." you laugh and in the next moment you gallop your horse. Cregan hears you laugh and follows you. Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you find his smile charming.

Its not long before you slower your horse again. You ride slowly into a clearing, looking up into the sky, Cregan follows your gaze. But he only sees blue sky and clouds.

You stop your horse, whistle loudly between your fingers. Then you turn to Cregan and beam at him. He can't help but smile with you. Excitement and anticipation are in your eyes.

"Don't worry. You will like him." your voice is full of love, as if you were talking about your oldest friend. You are indeed talking about your oldest friend. Cregan is captivated by your beauty, losing himself in your radiant eyes. Warmth spreads within him and his heart begins to beat faster. He can hardly wait to take you as his wife. Suddenly, the sun is obscured, a dark shadow falls over you and him. The horses begin to fidget nervously back and forth, and when Cregan looks up again, his heart sinks into his stomach.

He has read stories about the Targaryen dragons, he has watched Vermithor and Silverwing from his window in the Red Keep. Cregan even saw Vermax up close when Jacaerys landed in the courtyard of Winterfell back then.

Nothing could have prepared him for that. The gigantic body of Vermithor completely blocks the sun, the light catches in his bronze scales. His wingspan is gigantic.

As closer the dragon gets, the more uncomfortable Cregan feels. Vermithor lands just a few steps away from you, the entire ground trembles. Cregan's horse rears, the stallion can probably sense Cregan's unease.

Vermithor turns his head towards him, opens his mouth, and reveals a row of teeth, almost as long as sword blades and probably a hundred times sharper. In an instant, he could swallow Cregan along with his horse. It would only take a second, and his flames could turn Cregan into a pile of ash.

He has to swallow, his hands clenching around the reins. Why couldn't it have been a smaller dragon like Vermax being one? Or a hatchling like Morning? No, your soul bonded dragon had to be a damn war dragon.

Cregan has to take a deep breath to calm his heart a little. It beats so loudly that he is already afraid you will hear it. The air smells of smoke, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His body reacts automatically to the danger. His hand wants to reach for the sword on his belt, neverless he manages to prevent the almost reflex.

You don't seem to have noticed his fear at all, have already jumped off your horse and are now approaching your dragon. Valyrian words roll off your tongue with ease, your voice sounds calm. Cregan doesn't understand a word of what you say to Vermithor, but the foreign sound of High Valyrian in your gentle voice sounds like the most beautiful song he has ever heard. Cregan watches closely as you raise your hand and stroke your fingers over the dragon's nose. He snaps his mouth shut, blowing hot air into your face. You giggle, turning to Cregan.

"You can come closer." Again, that sparkle in your eyes. The sun catches in your dark hair, Cregan has to take a deep breath, drinks in your beauty, and feels the fear slowly release its grip on his heart.

In the next moment, Vermithor lifts his head, raises it above you, and pushes his large body closer to you, this time smoke coming from his nostrils. You stretch out and place your hand under the dragon's chin, stroking him as if he were a cat. Fear burns in Cregan's stomach like a metalball, cold sweatbeads forms on his forehead. Nevertheless, he dismounts from the horse. When his feet touch the ground, his stance is not as firm as he would like it to be. Everything in him screams to turn around and run away.

Cregan had thought the scariest thing he would ever have to do was stand on the edge of the wall and look 700 feet down. Getting close to your oversized lizard today is so much worse.

His stomach tightens, and he has to hide the trembling of his hands by gripping the hilt of his sword. You reach out your hand to him.

"Come on. You really don't need to be afraid. Vermithor is really sweet."

Cregan takes a few steps towards both of you, Vermithors eyes flash, and "sweet" is the last thing Cregan would think of to describe this dragon. He has to force himself to keep going. But when Vermithor lets out a dark growl, Cregan flinches and stops. You turn a little to Vermithor and speak a few Valyrian words to him. Cregan understands his own name and Winterfell. A moment after you finish, Vermithor shakes slightly and then lowers his body down to his knees, while his wings fold tightly against his body and he lowers his head so that his eyes are at Cregan's height. Cregan stares in shock from you to your dragon. Did he really listen to you?

"I understand that you are scared..."

"I am not scared" Cregan interrupts you quickly, too quickly. A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you catch him lying. But you extend your hand again. Cregan takes a deep breath and forces himself to take the last steps. Gods, he has stood on battlefields, won wars, even had to fight for his place in Winterfell. He would describe himself as brave, but taking those steps onto your dragon costs him all his courage.

The air around Vermithor's body is warm and smells of sulfur. The Lord of Winterfell is by no means squeamish, yet he has to pull himself together not to wrinkle his nose. He is afraid of angering the dragon.

He reaches for your hand, your fingertips closing around the black leather of his glove. The touch of your fingers grounds him a little and he manages to take a deep breath and calm his heart a little bit.

You don't pull at him, giving him time until he stands directly in front of your dragon on his own. Vermithor doesn't move, only his eyes blink. Cregan has the feeling that the dragon is inspecting him closely, its eyes far too intelligent for a lizard. It sends a shiver down Cregan's spine.

"Do you want to pet him?" you ask, your gaze vigilant on Cregan and Vermithor as your fingertips glide over the scales beneath the dragon eye.

Cregan wants to shake his head and say no, but instead he carefully takes off the glove. He notices that his palm is sweaty, but he can't wipe it on his shirt, you would notice that. Slowly, Cregan raises his hand he cannot supress the slight trembling. He looks at you once more, you nod quickly. Cregan places his hand on the dragon's nose, the scales are hot and hard. Vermithor does not move, his breath steady while Cregan held his breath. Carefully, his fingers glide over Vermithor's nose, he endures it exactly four heartbeats, then he withdraws his hand and takes two steps back.

His heartbeat is fast, his breathing is unsteady and he notices the blush rising in his cheeks. He is sure that by now you know that he is panicking with fear. Nevertheless he looks at you.

You meet his gaze with a warm, proud smile "I told you, he is really sweet." you say and press your cheek against Vermithor. The dragon blows air out of its nostrils again, then gently nudges you and makes a humming sound, almost like a melody. Cregan is surprised that a hundred-year-old dragon is as gentle as a kitten.

Cregan grumbles in agreement, his fear still lingers in his stomach. "Can we go back now?" he looks at the horses, a few steps away. He did touch the dragon, but that doesn't mean he feels comfortable now.

You start to giggle. "Still scared?" you ask in a teasering voice. He looks at you, a smile dances around the corners of your lips. Vermithor nudges you lightly in the side, then straightens up a bit and takes a step towards Cregan. The ground trembles, the trees around sway, leaves fall to the ground.

Cregan has to swallow, needs all his courage not to run away. Vermithor slowly moves his head towards him, hiding you behind his body. Cregan's heart begins to beat faster, once again he has cold sweat on his forehead.

"Stay completely calm." he hears you say, not a hint of worry in your voice. Cregan isn't even surprised by how much trust you place in your dragon. Vermithor's head slowly comes closer, he sniffs the air around Cregan and then gently nudges him with his snout. The touch isn't even strong enough to make Cregan take a step back. He would never have expected such caution from the giant. The bronze Fury seems more like a kitten right now.

The dragon exhales, the air is so hot that Cregan's eyes begin to burn. Suddenly, Vermithor rises to his full height, his head hovering a few feets above the ground before he lets out a loud roar.

Cregan flinches in shock, the deep tone makes his bones vibrate, his muscles tense up, ready to run as fast as he can. Still, he remains where he is, looking at you.

You smile at him, pride in your gaze. Suddenly you run past Vermithor and throw yourself in Cregan´s arms. The Lord of Winterfell wraps his arms around you, catching you und pressing you close to him. Your warm laughter reaches his ears, and for a moment, he can forget the dragons three steps away. Still laughing, you take a step back from Cregan but reaching for his hand again. Your smile rivals the sun. You have to tilt your head slightly back to look at Cregan.

"Good, he likes you." you speak with conviction. "Now we can get married."

Cregan has to blink in surprise. "Wait this was up for discussion?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Of course, My Lord Stark. Never could I marry a man that my Vermithor has not approved of."

Cregan looks past you back to your dragon. He feels as if his eyes are watching every of his movements. He has to swallow. So Vermithor likes him? Cregan can´t tell why you are so sure about this.

You squeeze his hand to regain his attention. Cregan looks at you. You stand on your tiptoes and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. It's just a brief moment, but it makes Cregan's stomach do somersaults and his heart pound loudly in his chest. Cregan wants to pull you into his arms immediately and claim your mouth as his. He has to hold back, contenting himself with pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. You snuggle into his arms.

"And what do you say? Do you feel like taking a little flight?" he can hear your laughter in your voice. You making fun of him, he knows that. If Cregan had a slightly bigger ego, he would force himself to climb onto that dragon's back just to avoid having to admit to his fiancée that he is too scared. It's a good thing Cregan's ego isn't that big after all. Not even an army of giants and the others could get him onto this dragon.

"Absolutely not." Cregan replies, also laughing and pulls you towards the horses. Vermithor lets out a growl and then spreads his wings. In the next moment, his body rises into the air and he takes off flying briefly over Cregan's and your head.

The Lord of Winterfell has to pull himself together not to flinch. He would never love this dragon as you do, but at least Vermithor didn't eat him at the first opportunity. That's a good sign Cregan thinks.

[cimmanonrowl]

dbf!hotch where you have to be quick n quiet bc your parents are next door, and he's only staying for one night. heavy w the smut and tension 🤭

So It Goes...

It was summer break from University and you were home to spend time with your parents. And maybe Aaron was just as clingy as you because you woke up one morning with him in your room, admiring you in your sleep. And the night you spent together didn’t disappoint either.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, secret relationship, sweet dom!aaron, sneaky, unprotected sex, cowgirl, creampie, gagging, oral (f) receiving.

The soft, feather-like touch on your cheek pulled you from the depths of sleep. The caress was gentle, almost ghostly, yet enough to rouse you even if you were unconscious.

“There she is…” you heard someone say; a familiar deep voice, soft and whispery. “Good morning, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered open, groaning lightly to yourself, while the hazy remnants of sleep gave way to early morning light filtering through your bedroom drapes. Someone’s warm hand still rested lightly on your face, occasionally rubbing your cheek with the back of their fingers. And your heart skipped a beat as you became fully aware of the presence, with the uncanny feeling of being watched.

“Aaron?” you grumbled, confusion threading through your voice. 

Blinking away the blur of sleep, you slowly whipped your head to the side. Only to be greeted by a sight that almost instantly knocked a breath out of your chest.

You rubbed your eyes quickly, half expecting him to vanish, a figment of your frail imagination. But he was still there, smiling softly at you, his eyes crinkling at the very corner. His affectionate gaze narrowed down on your face alone, full of tenderness that melted away any lingering drowsiness in your brain.

“Aaron? W-what— what?”

“Hey…” he murmured, chuckling a little as he saw your baffled reaction, his voice deep and soothing as always. “I’m sorry, I just... I couldn’t wait to see you."

Your heart warmed with a mix of joy and confusion, but also a pang of worry. How did he even manage to sneak into your room, you don’t know. But here he was, tucking the stray strand of hair behind your ear, staring back at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. It feels surreal, like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, voice still groggy and croaky from sleep.

You know for sure that you look like a mess. Maybe with a drool at the corner of your mouth, or a trace of sleep in your eyes. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Aaron was looking at you like this, not when all you see is love and longing, not with the fact that your parents must be somewhere downstairs waiting for you both to come down and join them for breakfast.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound of a sweet melody to your ears. “I missed you,” was all he said, as if that explains everything. 

And knowing your boyfriend, maybe it does.

You reached up, your hand covering his on your cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “I missed you too,” you admitted, “But how? Where’s Dad? Mom? How did you get here?”

You kept glancing towards the door after your question, imagining it to burst open at any moment; your father with a rifle in his hands, your mother crying behind him. You shuddered at the image; it was surely exaggerated, and not exactly how you planned for them to know your relationship with Aaron.

“They went out to the local market,” he explained shortly, frowning as he noticed the worry lines on your face. “They’re buying meat and groceries for their anniversary party later. Your Mom told me to get some rest instead of helping them; saw my chance and sneaked in.”

Just with what you heard, relief and excitement coursed through your veins. So you’re here all alone with Aaron, and the house is silent and empty. You can’t help but feel a thrill at the audacity of it all. “We still have to be careful,” you said, although your voice carried a hint of anticipation.

Aaron’s smile turned a bit more mischievous, his fingers tracing a gentle line along your jaw. “I know, princess,” he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But right now, it’s just you and me.”

“Oh?” your eyebrows perked as you picked up the insinuation. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

The smirk on his face grew at the challenge. And his touch lingered, the warmth of his hand spreading through you. His eyes darkened with desire, and you feel a similar heat rising within you.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is not to touch you while you sleep?”

You snorted. “Oh, shut up. Bet I look like a troll.”

“Hey, don’t speak to my girlfriend like that,” he scolded lightheartedly, pinching the side of your stomach. “You always look like an angel.”

You tried hiding your blush with an eye roll.

There he is again with his confessions; sweet, little words dripping like honey in this early morning. With Aaron, those words never felt forced, never felt like an empty expression. Maybe it has to do with the way he says it, or the way he never tore his imploring gaze away from you, or maybe you trust him so much that you willingly listen to everything he says. With no complaints. No doubts.

Aaron leaned in slowly, “I’ve missed you so much, baby. My bed feels empty without you.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Aaron.”

He frowned as if that insulted him, his thick eyebrows tugging together. “Your point being?”

“You’re clingy,” you laughed in amusement, tipping your face away from him, avoiding his lips that kept chasing yours.

A firm grip on your hip stopped you from moving.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, a confused frown still plastered on his face. “I’m trying to kiss you.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“And do I look like I care?”

“Ew,” you scrunched your nose to feign disgust. “Really, love?”

“Sweetheart, I eat my own cum as it drip down your ass. Do you think—”

You slapped both of your palms on your face, groaning at his words. What the hell. You expected a different response. Not these dirty, crude words. Why would he even say that?

“Aaron!”

“What?” he only laughed– he always does, he always enjoyed seeing you blush like a tomato. “It’s true, sweetheart. What do you think will stop me from tasting you?”

Just as he said, it’s true. Nothing has ever stopped him from showing you love and pleasuring you. He’s always got to have his hand on your body, on your waist, on your thighs; his lips on yours, or your skin; his head buried at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, and most of the time, in between your legs, eating your cunt.

“Whatever, old man. Come here,” you giggled, pulling his neck, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly soft kiss. The softness of the contact sent a shiver all over your body, awakening a hunger that has been building up ever since the summer break began.

Aaron’s hand slipped from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, and deepening the kiss.

The house was wrapped in silence, yet the idea of doing something so illicit and dangerous under your parent’s roof made you tremble in anxiety– or was it pleasure? You don’t know. You can’t seem to know. Not with Aaron’s hand kneading your breasts, not with his lips trailing down to your pulsing cunt.

Your discarded underwear lay forgotten on the floor. And Aaron’s head finally nestled between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet and throbbing pussy. His calloused hands rested firmly on your hips, and the first flick of his tongue against your clit sent shivers rising from the soft surface of your skin.

“Fuck, baby. You taste so good,” Aaron murmured, his voice deep and raspy as he glanced up.

His words crumbled your resolution, with Aaron’s expert lips and tongue moving with a tenderness that bordered on reverence, exploring every inch of your cunt as if he had it all memorized– which he does. Every flick and twirl of his tongue, the vibration of his pleasured groans against your wetness, the desperate pleas that escaped your lips— he knows it all.

“Aaron…” you breathed, your voice trembling in a brimful of desire and need. “Don’t stop.”

Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling through the soft strands as you guided him closer, deeper. You bucked your hips abstractedly, creating an even more delicious friction. It was all overwhelming, full of ecstasy after two weeks of spending time away from each other. Aaron’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, watching you fall into pieces, a drunk look present in his eyes.

“I won’t, angel...” he promised. “I want you to feel everything.”

The secrecy almost felt sacred. The early morning light painted everything in a soft, dreamy glow, blurring the lines between your reality and both of your desires.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before slowly prodding them inside of your wet, dripping cunt. Aaron took your heavy moan and the satisfaction in your face as a signal to assault your pussy just the way he knows you like it, reaching spots that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

“God, I missed this… missed you...” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you felt your orgasm rising, building fast and deliberately. “A-Aaron… faster… please…”

The firmness of his touch, his caresses, his very presence; as the sensations built within you, you knew nothing could ever make you give up this moment.

All the while, his eyes held yours, tender and full of desire. “Whatever you want, baby,” his voice even softer as he said, “I’ll give you everything.”

The heavy smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter filled the air as you stepped into the garden, wearing only a short, breezy dress that fluttered around your thighs with each step. The barbecue party is in full swing, with your family and some other neighbors gathered around, chatting and enjoying the warm afternoon. Your parents are busy at the grill, flipping burgers and ribs, chatting with each other, and laughing.

You quickly scanned the garden and spotted Aaron. He’s engaged in conversation with a small crowd of men, but as if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes quickly found yours. A warm, secretive smile spreads across his face, sending a flutter through your chest.

As you move through the crowd, greeting some of your neighbors and grabbing a plate of food, you can’t help but feel Aaron’s eyes on you. Oh, you knew that his eyes were on you. The dress you chose wasn’t just for comfort in the summer heat; it was an attempt to catch his attention, to feel his gaze, to make sure he was on the tip of his toes.

You found a seat at one of the picnic tables under the shade of an old tree. Aaron casually made his way over, each of his steps languid, his movements seemingly unhurried. And when he took the seat across from you, his leg brushed against yours under the table, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

“Everything looks delicious,” you tried keeping your voice steady, your eyes flicking to his with a knowing look. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Hmm…” he nodded, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. His foot nudges yours playfully, hidden from the view of the others.

“Stop,” you chuckled, shaking your head at his childishness.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks. I know.”

He raised an eyebrow, smiling. “How cocky.”

Throughout the small gathering, the two of you stole clandestine glances. There isn’t a moment where you felt Aaron wasn’t paying attention to you. Occasionally, Aaron’s hand would graze yours when reaching for the salad bowl or the pitcher of lemonade, each touch brief and only for a lingering moment.

At one point, you excused yourself to grab yourself a drink. As you walked past by Aaron, you felt his hand subtly brush the small of your back, a fleeting touch that sent a thrill through your pulsing cunt. You can feel your underwear slowly getting soaked in anticipation for tonight, as you already know he’s staying.

You glanced over your shoulder and met his eyes, and saw the same spark of desire mirroring in there.

The afternoon crawled excruciatingly slow, and as the sun began to set, the sky a pale hue of salmon and lilac, the guests started to gather around the fire pit. You took a seat on a wooden bench, with Aaron joining you shortly after. 

He sat beside you.

A bold move.

You became hyperaware of everything: the closeness of his body next to yours, the occasional brush of his hairy arm, the deep rumble of his laughter as he chimed in the conversations of others. Nobody seemed to mind why Aaron chose to sit beside you of all places. Nobody even batted an eye. But for some reason, it made your toes tingle in anxiety.

Your parents are nearby, laughing and sharing stories with their other friends, blissfully unaware of the castle of dirty thoughts you built in honor of your father’s dear best friend. God, it feels so wrong. But you’d let the whole world crumble to dust than let go of this feeling.

As the sky darkened, you found a moment when the two of you were left alone. Aaron leaned in, his voice a low murmur meant only for your ears.

“You okay, baby? You’re quiet,” he observed, his eyes scanning your face with worry.

“I’m fine...” a shy smile played on your lips. “Enough with the beer now, please. You look red.”

A smile rose on his lips as he nodded, setting down the half-finished bottle on the ground to follow your order. When his attention landed on you again, you mirrored the smile tugging on his lips.

His hand found yours under the bench, fingers intertwining in a gesture that’s both innocent and intimate. “I wish we could be together openly,” he whispered, his thumb gently rubbing soft circles on your knuckles.

“Someday, yeah?” you whispered back, squeezing his hand. “Are you tired of this?”

“No, Jesus Christ,” he whispered, almost to himself, voice quiet and absentminded. “But it reminds me you’re graduating in a few months.”

“Right, can’t wait to escape that hell.”

Aaron snorted, throwing you a glance. “You wanted to enter law school, remember?”

“Because I wanted to impress my now boyfriend, remember?”

His eyes softened, and you could see amusement and affection filtering through them. “You didn’t have to impress me, baby, you’ve got me at the palm of your hand,” was what he said, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

The party went on until the evening. The faint sounds of the gathering still lingered in your mind— all the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the stolen glances between you and Aaron. Your heart fluttered as you recalled his eyes meeting yours across the crowded yard, his piercing eyes observing you from afar.

You laid in bed, feeling your pulse quicken as you waited, the anticipation almost too much to bear. Then, you heard it— a gentle knock on your door. 

You rose quietly, wincing at the sound of your bedsheet rustling upon your movements. In quick strides, you crossed the room and swung the door carefully, so softly, until there he was again. In front of you.

“Hi,” you whispered, a smile spreading across your face. “Come in.”

Aaron locked the door behind him, and the room felt suddenly warmer, his presence filling the space with a palpable energy. You stepped closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“What a torture...” Aaron murmured lazily, his lips brushing against your ear. “Wanted to be near you every second.”

“Huh,” you said teasingly, poking the side of his ribs. “And you dare say I’m the clingy one in this relationship?”

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both gentle and intense. The heat made you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss, letting yourself lose your mind in his warmth and touch.

Aaron’s hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“Oh, please, baby. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He led you to the bed with guided steps. Aaron’s touch was tender, the fingers trailing over your skin made your heart ache, and your cunt pulse in hot desire.

You looked into his eyes, finding a reflection of your own need. His gaze was affectionate yet filled with an intensity that made blood rush to your cheeks.

“Need you...” your voice was barely audible in the stillness. “Fuck me good, baby.”

He smiled, a slow, intimate curve of his lips that made you catch your breath. “With your parents next door? Sound dangerous…” he replied softly, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in a sweet kiss.

You could feel the tension of the day melting away. Aaron’s hands moved slowly as if he was savoring every moment, every touch. He kissed a trail from your lips to your jaw, and down to your neck, his breath warm against your skin, leaving a wet path in its wake.

As his kisses grew more insistent, you felt a wildfire ignite within you, the desire that had simmered all day finally threatening to spill. You pulled him closer, even more closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, deepening the kiss with a pace that matched his own.

While Aaron’s hands roamed around your body with such possessiveness, the only sounds in your room were the soft rustle of sheets and your quiet whining. He explored every inch of your skin with a silent plan to conquer. To take. To remind you how you and your body are his and his alone.

“Be quiet, little girl, or I’ll gag you,” his eyes darkened with warning. “Can’t have your parents know their good girl is a dirty slut, can we?” he mumbled hotly in your ears.

“Y-yes, sir...”

You lifted your hips as you felt his hands playing with the waistband of your underwear. And you couldn’t do anything when he said “Open up wide,” and slipped the crumpled fabric of your soaked underwear inside your mouth.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, hm?” he whispered again, his voice soft yet taunting.

And you could only nod because your words were caught right in your throat. Literally.

Aaron moved swiftly and with urgency this time, as he was aware of the risk of what you were doing. It was exhilarating; sharing this secret, him forcing you to keep quiet��� you’ve never been quiet, not when his big, girthy cock stretched you wide, ramming in and out of your tight pussy.

“Fuck, baby, so warm…” Aaron grumbled lowly, biting on his hand as you sank deeper into his cock.

You kneaded on your tits, rubbed your nipples as you stared back at Aaron, lowering yourself to ride his hard cock. A low whimper rumbled in your chest as you felt the burn of the stretch, your moans muffled by the fabric serving as your gag for tonight.

“That’s it, angel, move your hips like that. Fuck,” Aaron closed his eyes as he felt your cunt tighten with your slow movements. “Fucking hell, baby. You’ll kill me one day.”

You started bouncing on his cock in no time, fast and hard, feeling his hands on your thighs tighten in restraint. Your air flow was restricted by the gag on your mouth, making you breathe heavily, noisily, accompanied by the quiet flapping of sweaty skin and Aaron’s pleasured grunts.

“Fuck. Fucking hell, angel…” he groaned as he spread his knees and started fucking into you.

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as he prodded the spots only he could reach. With bleary eyes, you watched how Aaron bit his lower lip and how his hips fucked into you with vigor, with the same need, struggling so hard to contain his noises.

Your eyes lingered on the solid plains of his hairy chest and rested your palm on the soft surface of his stomach, moving your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. Warm tears streamed down your cheeks with pleasure, with the nagging voice at the back of your head warning you not to make a mistake. To be quiet. To not ruin the moment.

Yet it’s all too much.

“You’re doing good for me, baby. You’re so gorgeous…” Aaron cooed as he noticed your tears. “You’re so tight. Fuck, you’re close already?”

You nodded dumbly, too fucked to even understand everything he just said.

“Go on then. Cum for me, baby,” Aaron smiled, slapping your thighs lightly. “That’s it, good girl. Ride my cock like that. Fucking hell, what a slut.”

You tried warning him. You wanted to tell him you’re close. To go faster. Harder. To let you come. To give you everything. To beg. But your quiet pleas were muffled, leaving a deep rumble of amused laughter on Aaron’s chest.

“What’s that, slut? Can’t hear you,” he taunted softly. “What do you think your parents would think if they saw you like this, hmm?”

You whined and whimpered as your thighs burned from the effort, finally letting Aaron take the control.

“I’m so close, baby... fuck, feels so good...” he too was breathing heavily. “Come for me, come on. Good girl. Tighten the cunt even more– like that, fuck!”

White hot pleasure blurred your vision as you felt your orgasm coursed through you. You felt Aaron tremble beneath your body, his hot load flooding your insides, his warm hand exploring your sweaty skin with a devotion that left you breathless.

“My jaw hurts…” you pouted as he gently took out the fabric on your mouth and tucked your face in the crook of his neck. “I love it, though.”

Aaron chuckled at your whiny voice. “I know it’s wrong but that’s so hot, darling.”

“I know…” you giggled weakly, feeling the palm of his hands roam at the surface of your back. “Can we do it again? I wanna... ride your stomach. Please, sir, can I? Didn’t you say I’m your good girl?”

Sorry for the long wait but thank you to Anon who requested this! As always, your replies, reblogs, and reactions are very much appreciated. See you on the next ones!

[theotherbuckley]

I like you (because you're you) - bucktommy 2K

read on ao3

“Who was that?” Tommy asks, walking up to where Buck’s sat on the couch, phone placed down in his lap. They’d just finished dinner, Buck had cooked a delicious pasta dish that had Tommy coming back for seconds. He’d told Buck how much he liked it, and Buck had promised he’d make it again before his phone started buzzing and he’d apologised before taking the call.

Buck gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His cheerful self from earlier seemingly replaced with a faded version. He has this distant look in his eyes which he quickly blinks away before he speaks. “Uh, that was my friend Connor. He, uh, just wanted some of my medical records.” He waves his hand like it’s no big deal. It isn’t. Not really. His brain is just being stupid, is all.

Tommy raises his eyebrows before frowning. “Why’d he need those?” He questions, coming to sit down next to Buck. He places his hand on Buck’s thigh momentarily, squeezing softly like he just knows that Buck needs a little bit of comfort right now even if he doesn’t quite understand why.

“Uh, their son was at a doctor's appointment, just having a check-up or something, and I’m well— they used my sperm so, you know, they just want to make sure everything is in order, I guess,” he rushes out the last part, desperate to get the words out like if he says it fast enough Tommy won’t even realise what he’s said and it won’t cause any issues. 

Tommy’s brows rise further as he takes that in. Buck watches him process, afraid that his life will once again be too much for someone, and they’ll walk out. It’s what people do — when Buck inevitably becomes too much and when they decide what he’s offering, what he can’t give them, isn’t enough in return, they leave.

“Is that— is that a problem?” Buck hates the way his voice wavers as he speaks. Hates the way he can’t hide his emotions at all. He really likes Tommy, really wants him to stick around. He’ll do what he can to make that happen. He’ll make himself more useful so that Tommy won’t want to leave. He’ll—

“No, no, of course not.” Tommy says it like there’s no other answer. Like he can’t imagine anyone thinking that’s a problem. Buck waits for the inevitable ‘but’.

“But.” Buck braces. “But I’m just surprised I’ve never heard of this guy before is all,” Tommy says. Buck exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Oh uh, yeah, we— we aren’t really close.”

“But you donated sperm for him?” There’s genuine confusion in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I guess— he asked. I may not have spoken to him in a while but, I wasn’t gonna say no.”

“You have the biggest heart, Evan. I think what you did is incredibly honourable. How are they doing now?” Tommy asks gently, seemingly comfortable to move the conversation on.

“I’m—I'm not actually sure.” He sighs. “That was the first time they’d called since the birth. And that was only because they needed something.” He laughs at the end like his words don’t speak to some greater insecurity deep inside him. Like it doesn’t hurt that his friend hasn’t talked to him until they needed him.

“Ah,” Tommy says, and Buck can here the judgement dripping from his mouth. He’s not sure exactly what he’s done, but it’s always something. Maybe he should have been the one to check in on them, maybe—

“I don’t think he sounds like a very good friend,” Tommy states. 

Buck frowns, he didn’t expect him to say that. The truth is, Buck sometimes wonders that himself. What he lands on instead is that there must be something wrong with him. Because it’s not just Connor who wants things from him and then doesn’t care about any other part of Buck. It’s just how it’s always been. People take, and Buck gives. He gives, and he gives, and it’s never quite enough, but he tries.

“Sometimes I feel like people only like me when I’m useful,” Buck admits in a whisper, letting the words stuck inside his head free. It’s not that he thinks it; he knows it. He knows he’s only worth something when people can use him, and he’s lived with that his whole life. He was born to save someone, and he failed, but that’s his whole purpose even now. 

He saves people for a living. He’ll babysit whenever anybody asks, he’ll be your trivia partner when you need to win. He’ll let his friends use him for his sperm. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to. He does. He loves doing these things for his friends because he can. But sometimes it hurts a little knowing that it’s not him that they want. They just… like his ability to do things.

“Evan, I like you. Regardless of anything you can or can’t do. I like you.” Tommy emphasises the you like Buck being Buck is somehow special.

Buck can’t stop the wet laugh that escapes his throat. He shakes his head, sniffles before composing himself. “No, no,” he says, because it’s not true, it can’t be. “But—but it’s okay because I’ll make sure you don’t get bored of my I-I’ll cook dinner, and I’ll do the dishes, and I’ll make sure we always win at trivia and— and I don’t know anything about cars or Muay Thai, but I’ll learn.” Buck’s rambling, the words tumbling out of his mouth in one breath. He needs to make sure Tommy knows that he’ll do his best; even if it’s hard, he’ll be useful because then Tommy will stay, and he really wants Tommy to stay.

“Evan.” It’s that soft voice again. Placating, like he’s talking to a small child. Like he’s trying to get him to listen.

Buck shifts his gaze from the floor to Tommy. He looks sad. Buck wishes he wasn’t the one to make him look like that. He tries to smile at him, anything to bring those soft creases at the edges of Tommy’s eyes back, but his heart’s not really in it.

“Evan,” Tommy says again, locking his eyes on Buck’s. “You don’t need to be useful for me to like you. I like you because you’re adorable. I like you because you’re funny and you don’t care what people think. ‘Who cares’, right?” Tommy chuckles. Buck likes that sound. “I like that you were willing to try again with me, even if you bought me god-awful coffee with it.” Buck lets out a wet chuckle at that. “I look at you, Evan, and I see someone who cares so deeply about your friends. Willing to put your life on the line for others. But it’s more than that, I like the way you ramble about random things you find on the internet, and how you try out 100 different lasagna recipes because you need to find the right one even though you burn half of them.”

“Hey!” Buck says in weak protest. He’s right, though. There’s a warmth in his chest at the fact that Tommy noticed.

Tommy keeps going. “I like how big your smile gets when you talk about Chris or Jee-Yun. I like the way that your cheeks turn the colour of your birthmark when you’re flustered. I just— I really like you, Evan. You could— you don’t have to cook for me every day or give me the answers at trivia night for me to want you to stick around. I like you because you’re you.”

Buck can’t stop the tears trickling down his cheeks. His whole life has been about being useful, and it’s so hard to believe anything different but the way Tommy talks about him. Like maybe he really does see him. “I don’t know how to— I want to believe you but it’s just, every relationship I’ve had has felt like people want something from me. Abby needed help when her mom died, and then she just left. I always felt like Ali just wanted a place to crash when she was in town. I mean, she’s the reason I have this apartment in the first place. Taylor just wanted sex at first, and then she started getting insights into news stories from the firehouse, and she always valued that more than spending time with me. She’d ask me how my day was, not because she cared but because she wanted to know if there was anything worth writing about. Hell, she even published a book about me. Even after it was over, she used me as much as she could.” The tears are flowing faster now, and his voice cracks as he speaks. It’s stupid to get so emotional about this, but Buck can’t stop now. Now that he’s opened the faucet of this insecurity of his, it’s like everything he’s been bottling inside is bubbling to the surface and he can’t stop it.

“And Nat—Natalia,” Buck continues, hiccuping through his tears. “She just wanted to understand my death. Asked me a hundred— a hundred questions about what it was like, and at first, I thought maybe she could actually see me, but I feel like she was just using me for something too.” Buck wipes his face. He’s sure he must look like a mess right now — tear-streaked face, snot dripping down from his nose. Tommy doesn’t deserve to deal with all this. “Sorry,” Buck chuckles,  the sound getting caught in his throat. “You didn’t need to hear about all that.”

“Hey,” Tommy says, moving closer towards Buck. He tucks his fingers under Buck’s chin forcing him to look Tommy in the eyes. He holds Buck’s face tenderly in his hand, always so gentle. “You can talk to me about anything, and I will listen, okay?”

“I don’t want to bore you,” Buck says softly, moving to look down at the ground once more but Tommy doesn’t let him get away, holding him firmly yet soft, like Buck’s something precious.

“You couldn’t,” Tommy replies sincerely. “If it weren’t for you, how else would I know that the Australians started a war on emus, huh?” He jokes.

“And lost,” Buck whispers because he can’t help it.

“And lost!” Tommy repeats. Buck had gone on a tangent about it just the other day. He’d gone to the zoo with Christopher, and they’d been having a lot of fun until they stood too close to the fence, and an emu had come up and startled them. Buck had decided in that moment that he needed to find out every single detail about them, which led him to discovering that in 1932, Australia declared war on emus —and then proceeded to lose. He’d met up with Tommy after and rambled about his findings because he thought it was absolutely hilarious. Tommy sat there smiling at him, evidently listening to every word that he said, taking it in and remembering it all.

“I like listening to you talk, Evan. I like you. And I’ll tell you that as much as you need to hear. Now,” Tommy claps his hands together. “Tomorrow, I’m cooking for you. You don’t need to do anything except sit there and look pretty. Let someone do something for you for once. Okay?”

Buck just nods, wiping at his eyes before slumping into Tommy’s now open arms and relishing in the comfort of his boyfriend. He doesn’t quite believe him, not yet. He wants to. It’s just prior experience has moulded his brain a certain way and now he just can’t believe any different. He wants to. He wants someone to like him, to love him, even when he can’t be useful. He hopes that maybe Tommy will show him that that’s possible.

For now, he tucks his head into Tommy’s shoulder, clutches onto him like he’s going to disappear and lets himself be held. Tommy kisses his birthmark like it’s sacred, holds him and tells him he likes him over and over. Buck thinks maybe he really does.

[retirementhomewriting]

Fraudulent Flowers

Features: In which the author decides that Valentine's Day is today

Fem!Reader, poor attempt at dialogue, can you tell I haven't written anything in a long time it's been literal years

"Neuvillette?!"

You felt your eyebrows raise and your heart leap all in one second.

In your hand you held an exquisite bouquet of red roses, having been delivered to you just a few moments ago on this morning of Valentine's Day.

You hadn't expected the breathtaking delivery. You weren't seeing anybody.

But what you expected least of all was that when you read the card that came with the flowers, the sender's name was written as Neuvillette—in other words—the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and although you hadn't admitted this to anyone yet, the man you loved dearly.

Never in a million years did you believe you would receive such a gift from him. Still staring at the bouquet in shock, you tried to make sense of the situation.

Neuvillette had sent you flowers. Roses, in particular. Red ones. On Valentine's Day.

This gift could only mean the sender had feelings for you. Neuvillette must have feelings for you.

For a moment, you felt that familiar flutter in your heart, only for it to be stopped by your mind.

Had it been anyone else, you wouldn't have questioned their intentions. But Neuvillette? How would he have known to send such a present? Could there have been a misunderstanding on his part of the flowers' meaning?

No, you thought. Although not a human himself, Neuvillette had lived amongst humans for centuries. Surely at some point, he must have observed the habit humans had of gifting flowers to the object of their affections on Valentine's Day.

...

Oh my.

You felt the corners of your mouth pulling into a smile. You had to see him right away. Quickly reaching for the first vase you could find, you arranged the flowers neatly, sending their beautiful blooms one last glance over your shoulder as you hurried out the door.

"Lady (Y/n)! Good morning!"

Your feet gradually came to a stop as you walked through the halls of the Palais Mermonia, a group of Melusines calling your name when you came into view.

Chuckling affectionately, you gave each of them a smile.

"Hello dears. Would Monsieur Neuvillette happen to be in his office right now?" You asked, your heart beating in anticipation.

The Melusines glanced at each other and quickly nodded.

"Monsieur Neuvillette would be happy to see you!"

"Thank you," you told them. "I'll be seeing him now."

With a mixture of anticipation and giddiness rising in your chest, you lifted your arm to knock on the doors of Neuvillette's office, not even noticing the giggles of the Melusines as they trotted happily away.

Knock knock.

"Enter."

The mere sound of Neuvillette's voice was enough to cause your heart to jump. In just a few moments, your relationship with him could change.

"Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette," you greeted the Iudex warmly as you walked into his office, shutting the door softly behind you.

The sight of Neuvillette poring over paperwork cut as regal a figure as always, you vaguely noted.

"Good morning, Lady (Y/n)," Neuvillette responded, his gorgeous eyes flitting up to meet yours. "I was not expecting your presence today. Not that your presence is unwelcome," he added, the faintest of smiles ghosting his lips.

His words cycled through your brain as you took a seat in front of him. He wasn't expecting your presence today?

"Well," you began carefully, "I believe these types of matters are best not delayed." You inhaled quietly, facing these next important words. "I received your flowers. I must say, I was touched. They were beautiful. And... I really appreciated that you would send them to me."

You smiled, albeit a bit bashfully, at Neuvillette.

Neuvillette, for as much as he wanted to bask in that beautiful smile of yours that threatened to purge all other concerns from his mind, could not combat his confusion.

"I'm afraid I do not understand," he said. "I do not recall sending you any flowers, and yet you say you have received them from me?"

"... I'm sorry?"

Neuvillette... didn't send you any flowers? The information hit you like a bucket of ice water, the bashful smile on your face rapidly turning into a frown of mortification.

"I... well..." you stumbled miserably around your words as you tried to make sense of the situation while also fighting the confusion and shame that tore at your dignity. "I received a bouquet of roses this morning that were supposedly sent as a Valentine's gift...from...you...."

Your final word slipped out weakly from your lips.

You couldn't believe what was happening. That bouquet you got wasn't from Neuvillette. But then who would play such a cruel trick on you?

Oh you felt like such a fool, having gotten your hopes up when Neuvillette wasn't even thinking of you.

Suddenly straightening in your chair, you forced yourself to make eye contact with the Iudex.

"I'm sorry," you choked the words from your throat.

Neuvillette only looked at you in confusion.

"I do not believe you have anything to apologize for. It was not you who falsely sent those flowers in my name, after all."

"I know," you muttered, "but I apologize for charging into the matter so blindly and being so quick to believe in a lie. I in no way wanted to make you uncomfortable by misreading the situation. Please," you swallowed bitterly, "disregard my intentions in coming here to see you today."

Your intentions? Your statement gave Neuvillette pause.

If he stopped to think about the situation clearly, what were your intentions in visiting him?

You believed you had received flowers from him, specifically Valentine's Day flowers. Neuvillette had personally never celebrated Valentine's Day himself, but he knew at least the basic significance of the holiday for most Fontainians.

It was a day to celebrate love.

You thought he had sent you a gift... to celebrate his love for you?

And you had accepted that gift.

Had you perhaps come here to... reciprocate his love?

At the thought of that possibility, Neuvillette felt a warmth bloom across his chest, a warmth that seemed to awaken often in him these days.

He quietly breathed in and out, trying to regain his composure and quell the urgent tremble he knew would break his voice if he spoke too soon.

"Lady (Y/n)."

At the sound of your name, you reluctantly looked up.

"If it would not incommodate you, I would prefer not to overlook your intentions in coming to visit me today." Neuvillette gazed into your eyes steadily. "In fact, would you be willing to tell me your favorite species of flower?"

"My favorite flower...?"

"If you would allow me," Neuvillette continued, the tips of his ears turning the lightest shade of pink, "it would be my honor to truly gift you a Valentine's bouquet. I may not have the most experience in these sorts of human customs, but... I would be willing to learn more about them if it pleases you."

Two beats later and you were staring at Neuvillette as if on today of all todays your ears chose to fail you.

Two beats more and Neuvillette was graced with what surely must have been the most precious gift of all: your smiling face, which could evaporate the rain from the sky itself.

You were right.

Your relationship with Neuvillette was about to change.

And as the Melusines listening from the hall giggled triumphantly to each other and took note of what your favorite flower really was, the love you shared with the Chief Justice allowed itself to grow.

[sideysvault]

𓍼ོ Ad Astra Per Aspera 𓍼ོ (PT. 2)

Southeastern misfortune

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

wc: 2,114k

Tags: [sfw] Arranged marriage, slow burn, angst, mentions of dead, mature themes, enemies to lovers, hurt, comfort

full series masterlist. read part three.

────────

Without much thought of ruining her night gown, she began to try to take a hold of herself, sitting down on the unmarked path of the garden, slightly rocking herself back and forward, as slyly as she could, as to not start rumors. She tried to keep her mind focused on the soothing sound the crickets made, and let her thoughts waver with the cold wind. 

“Are you alright?” There it was. That sweet voice. 

Even if she startled the Princess, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the thought of being seen in such a precarious condition by her, she was still glad to have company. Quickly standing up, in a makeshift bow she muttered “My queen! My apologies”.

“It is fine. You must call me Helaena” As soon as the princess opened her mouth to protest the lack of formality, she continued “I have to admit, my title hasn’t brought me much joy, and, i much prefer being treated fairly, by my birth name”.

She hummed in response. Being married to a man like Aegon, a man that she knew as a boy, who she must have felt purely fraternal love towards, having to deal with the court and the angst of the upcoming war; No wonder she had no desire to be Queen anymore. 

Heleana signals to a grasshopper that was strolling through the miniature world that is the soil in the garden. She smiles at it, and grabs it tenderly, to place it at the palm of her hand. The little animal, seemingly unaffected by the intrusion, continued his parade around the Queen’s arms. 

“Is my brother not treating you kindly? Aegon can be difficult too, especially when he is drunk”. 

A smile appears on both the woman’s faces. The amount of honesty was not expected, but it was comforting to laugh about one’s tragedies. 

“No, no. The Prince is-” She fidgeted with the sleeves on her gown “Well, I-“ she sighed in exasperation with her inability to open up to the kind Queen“ I do not really know how to explain his offense” Accepting her emotional deceit, the Princess tried to change the subject “Are you having a tough night, as well?”

That question seemed to take the Queen far away from the garden. After the silence had settled in between the two woman, the sweet voice illuminated the echoes of the garden yet again “Mm” Heleana got closer to ther “You see, dreams are the whispers that guide my steps” 

The Queen always spoke in a trance-like state, her mind seemed to live inside the oneiric, pulling her further and further away from the world surrounding her. But she was kind. Her eyes shined with a sincere caring that was hard to fake. Maybe they could become friends. After all, she had come to rescue her from her own mind, speaking earnestly, without hesitation or defensiveness. 

Seeing Heleana’s kind eyes turn watery with desperation and a sense of shared complicity, a wave of guilt swallows her body whole. She did not understand what she was trying to say, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it or if she was to believe its veracity. 

She decided not to hide her confusion, only her instinctive disbelief. Magic and prophets were just tales to keep everyone compliant.

“Pardon me, Heleana, but, what does it mean?” The Queen seemed to feel anxious all of a sudden, and she firmly grabbed the Princess’s hands, got closer to her, and whispered a terrible sentence to her confused ears. 

“I am afraid. Not the dragons, the rats”.

It sounded unlikely, and it took you by surprise. She clearly seemed to think she was making an urgent confession, so you tried to be kind, despite your skepticism. There it was again, Targaryen’s queer costumes and the southeastern legends.

She took her hands off yours; The warmth of her touch disappeared as soon as it came. The Princess’s face must have given it away. Heleana quickly composed herself and softly uttered “You don’t believe me either” she had said matter-of-factly, disappointed and frustrated, yes. But mostly just with sadness coloring her voice. 

————

After the dreadful encounter, It only took about two weeks for the heir to be murdered. It had been done, after all, by the rat men. The culprit was rumored to be not the Usurper, but her loose cannon of a husband. Either way, it did not really make any difference; A child had been butchered like cattle. The only male heir, yes. But also Heleana’s baby boy. The King had turned mad with rage and grief, and Heleana’s psyche and heart seemed to never be able to recover. 

Upon the news of the tragic death, Prince Aemond was taken aback, but kept a serious temple and measured concern. She felt horrified to see his initial cold reaction, and she felt afraid of his familial detachment, and his growing ambition. Upon receiving the details of the horrific news, the Princess had to kneel and puke her sorrows out of her body. It had been a primal reaction, with a sudden feeling of nausea. She thought of the white-haired boy, as pale as snow, as happy as one can be. He was robbed of his future, of the love he could’ve received from his father, his sister and his kind mother, who may just have been able to raise him to be different from the King. But, egotistically, she primarily thought of Heleana’s desperate eyes, pleading for someone to listen to her premonitions, begging for help. The Princess had ignored her Queen’s distress, with a crime worse than treason, but that of treating a fellow woman as hysterical and mentally challenged. Guilt overshadowed any other thought on her mind. 

The first night after the news was known, she thanked the Gods for showing proof of the Prince’s humanity. At the marital bed, when the sheets were already warmed by their bodies, and the echoes of the mumbling night could be heard, another noise could be made out from the chambers. Her husband, the chaste man, the disinterested man, found the warmth in his heart to shed tears for his sibling’s son. She felt such a great relief, that she quietly got closer to him, and wrapped his arms against his waist. The prince, who was not facing her, could feel the warmth of his wife’s tears staining his back with a shared sorrow. He slowly grabbed the hands that were firmly grounding him, and, in a weak moment, he caved in to his human desires and caressed her hands with his thumb. 

The Princess did not sleep that night. When the tears stopped their flow, and her husband had finally fallen asleep, the spell was broken. Uncomfortable with this position of vulnerability and touch, she immediately tried to escape his tender grip. Now, alone with her thoughts again, she could accept that her inability to comprehend that there were things beyond her understanding of the world, her pride and brute vanity had contributed to the beheading of a little boy. 

Feeling like a young child again; Turning and moving around the bed at night, she tried to understand what could be an empiric, logical reason that had made Heleana predict with chilling accuracy the events that would take place. The woman’s entire cosmovision and knowledge of life was shaken, and in the depths of night, she found herself suddenly scared of the ghostly profile that the chandelier projected onto the walls, she felt anxiety about the noises that echoed from the main hall, and mainly, she understood with horror that she could not come up for any reason that did not involve the ancient beliefs. 

In the upcoming weeks, besides the political unrest, came the personal tragedies. The Prince, back to his normal self, had told his wife that the daughter of Heleana, not only haunted by her brother’s brutal attack, had been suffering recurring night terrors, worrying that she would be the next to be taken away. 

The Princess’s heart broke for the little girl, and for her mother, who must’ve felt like another nail was being hit onto her skin with her daughter’s complicated grief. 

So she took it upon herself to make their nights as easy as possible. Each day, she would invent a story to write down for Heleana to read to her daughter before bed, she would conjure tales of love and divine peace, tales of struggle that always ended with a nice resolution. The Queen, knowing that Princess’s kindness was motivated by her own guilt, decided to finally have a talk with her, in private. 

As soon as Heleana called for her, the Princess promptly left her room, eager to get the difficult conversation started as soon as possible. With the rush she had felt she did not have much time to cover or hide her writings, which were not yet ready for the Queen to receive. Prince Aemond could not help himself, and as soon as she left, he walked towards the desk and found with a small smile in his lips that his wife had been writing children’s tales for his sister and niece. With fear of ruining the wet ink, he traced the mess his wife had for calligraphy. Without touching, his fingertips lingered over the comforting words, imagining what it would feel like to touch the magical world she had created to comfort his family.  

————

When she entered the room, despite all the consuming guilt and shame she felt, all that her eyes could really focus on was Heleana. She was standing near the edge of the window, exposing her back towards the door of the chamber, not admiring the landscape, but feeling the cold breeze hit her face with tenderness. She looked like a divine apparition, with her pristine white hair that attracted light from the room and multiplied it with its color, with her usual trance state and the beautiful embroidery on her dress. The Princess did not know how to announce her arrival, so she awkwardly waited for the Queen to notice her. After some time, Heleana murmured something without turning to face her guest. 

“They are helping.” She took a small breath before continuing, “The stories, I mean.”

The Princess’s heart broke once more for the girl who remained kind above all else, the girl who war could not completely taint, even after forcing her to experience the torturous pain of loss. 

“Heleana, I’m deeply sorry, I-“ without being able to find the proper words, or knowing how to continue, she kneels before her, bowing to her not as the Queen, but as a wise friend who should have been listened to. The Princess looks up to her from the depths of the floor and says “I truly am sorry, I should have listened”. 

Upon hearing those words, the white on Heleana’s eyes seemed to pulsate and expand on their own, clearly being attacked with flashes of the tragic night. When she finally closed them, she dropped to her knees as well, crying, and thanking the floor which provided a wonderfully solid base. It was comforting to know that she had fallen and could fall no further. The Queen said nothing, but took the Princess’s hands. Now, laying together on their knees, with their fingers intertwined and their heads against each other, that was the moment they truly became friends. The pair remained in that position for a while, before the Princess broke the sacred silence with an earnest desire to express what had been on her mind “You have a gift, Heleana. A gift that defies my common mind and my prejudge against the realm of the unknown. I truly am sorry. No one should doubt the words that your prophecies tell. Jaehaerys was a wonderful child, nothing could mend what has been done to him”. 

“I do feel sad about Jaehaerys. But I ought not to, I think. Babes die all the time. The people at that horrid procession, they way they looked at me-”

Helaena dropped her hands, and started to avoid eye contact with the Princess. She focused instead on the pattern the dents in the walls of the chamber.

“You are allowed to grieve. Not as a high-born lady, but as a mother”. 

The Queen never really met the other woman's eyes again, but a soft, almost imperceptible smile flashed through her face. They sat on the cold, solid floor for what felt like hours, not speaking again, but accompanying one another until dawn, when the time came for the Princess to finish the story and for the Queen to read it to her daughter.

────────

Notes: I finally got time to write part two! This series has given me my motivation back, and has helped me through tough times. Little people have read it, but to all of those who are re-blogging the work, I sincerely appreciate you and your kindness! It makes me smile -Sidey xxo

pd. My timeline is all messed up so ignore that too x

[meritski]

𓏲⠀ no bone to pick ─ heizou x gn!reader .ᐟ ⋆

warnings: mentions of suicide, murder, blood, and corpses (nothing very detailed but please be aware) , reader is a forensic scientist

“Regarding the victim’s past mental health problems and the medicine she has been using for the past months, her suicide can be explained by the depression she’s been experiencing. The divorce must have taken a toll on her. Poor soul, may she rest in peace.”

Heizou gave the man in front of him a close-eyed smile, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes at all. ‘Bullshit.’ The interview was not going to his liking, it seemed. 

“Ah, I see. Thank you for your input and contribution.”

The man’s eyes lit up immediately. 

“So, May I take my lea—”

“Ah, there is my favorite doctor!”

Heizou stood up quickly, leaving the man hanging in the room while not batting an eye. Intentionally, of course.

On the other hand, hearing his loud and somewhat energetic voice, you sighed while arranging the papers that were in your hands. You seemed tired, he noted. And worst of all, you seemed in a bad mood. Ah.

“Hey.”

It was a simple, curt response. One that he expected but didn’t like it nonetheless. He decided he wasn’t going to dampen your mood by wasting your time even more like he usually did. 

“Got any news?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Not good ones, I suppose?”

“Well, good for the investigation.”

“Oh, they must be bad then.”

“It’s probably not a suicide,”

Hearing him hum in acknowledgment, you sighed and thought: ‘Of course, he’d guess’ and continued. 

“Their hyoid bone is fractured and they are past 30, which means their bones are not flexible at all, also since they don’t weigh much— It’s unlikely for the hanging to cause a fracture. So I’d say it’s most likely to be a…”

You were giving a piece of important information while his thoughts were having none of it.

‘Are they rambling? Cute.’

“Yeah, guessed so.”

“I could guess you’d guess, detective. I am afraid that’s all I got. I wasn’t even allowed in the medical examination room, and the autopsy reports are—”

“Whoa, you sneaked a peek for me? My my, aren’t you adorable—”

“Shut up.”

He laughed. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, his presence was comforting. After being surrounded by dead bodies and the smell of blood all day— his cologne was refreshing in a way. And maybe his personality was also helping you to clear your head. But you’d never say that to his face and feed his ego even more.

You let out the breath you weren’t aware of holding and spoke again,

“Can you get me the blood samples of their ex-husband?”

“Ah, so we are on the same page. Though I don’t know why you need it, of course.”

This was surprisingly going well; you were waiting for him to play around a bit first. Well, it clearly saved you from the headache.

“Thanks,”

Finally, your eyes met his. Ah, now looking at him closely, he seemed tired too. Though it didn’t affect his smile, his eyes were telling a different story.

“...want to grab a drink?”

Okay, maybe the tiredness didn’t affect his smile, but your suggestion clearly did wonders because you could’ve sworn his eyes shined at the sound of it.

“Lead the way, then.”

He extended his hand to you. You looked at it for a few seconds before placing the reports on it. You opened your phone and looked at the time, all while avoiding his eyes, the words slipped between your lips,

“The café or the vending machine?”

 “...vending machine.”

His tone sounded like a disappointed child who was pouting. 

Good thing you didn’t look at him because, boy, was he sulking. He mentally sighed and followed after you.

‘So much for wanting them to hold my hand.’

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⠀ notes below .ᐟ ⋆

𓏲⠀ heizou is my baby, i love him sm <3 .ᐟ ⋆

𓏲⠀ not proofread (again), so it might get rewritten later! (it probably won’t, anyway) .ᐟ ⋆

𓏲⠀ why do i study medicine? .ᐟ ⋆

☐ money

☐ my family forced me to do so

☐ because i want to help people

☒ to write fanfics based on what i’ve learned in class

© meritski .ᐟ all rights reserved to me, which means; you can not plagiarize, repost, translate or feed my works to ai .ᐟ

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

The Silver Lining

(A/N- Ah yes, Donna, I love her so much)

RL! Donna Beneviento x FEM! Reader

(Warning: Swearing, smut, grinding, and of course face sitting)

When people think of memorable duos, some people think of Bonnie and Clyde or Sherlock and Watson but the first thing you think of is you and Donna. The friendship y’all formed is an unbreakable bond that no one can take away. The both of you are so lucky to have each other, no matter what you or her are struggling with, the other is always there to support and help every step of the way.

It was one of those times again, one of those days when you needed her. You look at your phone in shock when you read the short text message your partner had sent. They broke up with you, not only that but to make matters worse they confessed to cheating on you with one of your friends. You were so confused and lost, the first thing you thought to do was to call your best friend, Donna Beneviento.

With tears dwelling in your eyes and threatening to spill out you dial her number. She surprisingly answered quickly, the shop must be slower than usual today. “Hello?” Donna’s soft voice greeted your ears.

“Hey Donna, could you please come over to my house, something happened and I really need you here.”

Donna's eyes widened when she heard your voice crack just like when you’re crying. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?!” she frantically questioned, her voice slightly raised out of panic and confusion. She can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.

“No no, I’m okay, physically at least.” You admitted, feeling a little selfish for dragging her out of her work just for your comfort.

“Hm I’ll be right there, stay put dear.”

The beeping sound of the hung up phone went on as the last word Donna spoke ran around your head. Dear? She would always call you pet names, nothing unusual for you two but for some reason the sweet name warmed you up inside. It was a strange feeling.

*Knock knock knock knock*

A familiar knocking sound banged on your door; you already knew it was Donna. You got up to let her in and there you saw Donna’s worried expression plastered on her face. “Come in.”

You lead her to your bedroom since that’s where you both usually hang out together and plus it just felt right at this moment. Taking a seat on the bed, she sits next to you as you explain the whole situation. Donna can feel her blood boil with anger and disgust, “Those fucking bitches, how could they?” She muttered under her breath. She never did like your partner but this made her dislike for them turn into a deep hatred.

Although underneath all that hatred, she felt kinda glad. Glad that you’re finally free now, Donna has always had a huge crush on you, it was obvious to everyone except you, but when you first started dating your partner she was hurt. You were the one that got away, at least she thought, but now she still has a chance.

Donna takes a deep breath before speaking, calming her nerves down. “Don’t waste your energy on dumb bitches like that, they don’t deserve you. You deserve someone better.” She tells you with certainty before her voice drops to a whisper, “Someone like me.”

Your tearful eyes widened at those last words, looking at her to see if she really meant it, but she was avoiding eye contact and her face turned red with embarrassment. “Do you really mean it? Like for real?” You questioned softly.

Silence filled the room for a moment before Donna finally developed the courage to confess, “Yes, I do. I’ve had a small..crush..on you for a long time. I was just afraid to tell you.” Her face somehow managed to get even redder.

“Why..do you like me like that? What is it about me?” Asking in disbelief, Donna is your best friend and you never expected her to have feelings for you out of all people. Honestly you didn’t know how to feel, different emotions are coming at you left and right, it’s natural to be confused like this.

“Well..first off, your stunning personality and smile lights up my world. It makes my entire day, really. Not to mention your looks.” Donna admitted, fidgeting with her hands, not knowing what to do with them, in which you suddenly take her hand in your own. Leaning forward to kiss her, you’re not sure what you’re doing but you just let your body take control.

To your surprise, she kissed back, you would think that Donna would just be standing there frozen due to shyness though that’s not the case right now. She places one hand on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds but it felt like minutes until she pulled away. “S-sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” She breathed out, and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around her waist, connecting your lips to hers. This time instead of a soft kiss, it was a much deeper one. Donna was surprised that you took the initiative though she definitely wasn’t complaining. Although, she pulled away again, but this time not out of uncertainty.

“Let me take good care of you, tesoro, way better than they ever could.” Donna confidently said, also asking for consent to continue on further with what will soon to be the best experience of your life.

You gave her a small sound of approval and Donna placed her hand on the side of your face, her thumb almost touching your lips. “No tesoro, I wanna hear you say it.” She smirked at your expression. You never saw Donna act this way before but goddamn she looked so fine right now.

“Take good care of me, I want you right now Donna.” You said seductively, making her blush deeper across her cheeks while she carefully pulled you onto her lap.

“That’s all you needed to say.” Her words made your heart warm, who knew Donna could be so bold. She placed a soft kiss on your lips, letting it linger there while she littered kisses down your neck, nipping at it a little. The increasing anticipation made you want more, you couldn’t help but grind your clothed core on her lap.

Donna's lips stayed on your neck, her hands grabbing your hips to move you a little to the side, positioning your core on her thigh. With her hands resting on your hips you continued your movements, grinding and grinding, sending friction to your clit, ripping a small moan out of you.

“Damn- that feels good. So good.” You moan out quietly, praising Donna’s actions. The praise sent shivers down her spine and made her heartbeat increase. She always adored every compliment you would give her.

“Mm I can’t wait to taste you. Especially that sweetness I know you’ll produce.” She tugs on the hem of your bottoms, prompting you to lift up and swiftly take off everything from your waist down.

She lays herself down on the bed, patiently waiting. You climbed on top of her and straddled yourself onto her stomach, “Are you sure about this?”

Donna smiled at your thoughtful question, “I’m positive.” She said encouragingly, putting your doubts at ease. You move up with knees on either side of Donna’s head, you can see her smile before she takes her hands and makes you sit down all the way. Before you knew it she was already getting to work.

Your hands tangled in her hair as you started to experience waves of pleasure. Donna’s hands grabbed your thighs, forcing you to stay still when you began to squirm. You gave her a pleading look in hopes that she’ll have mercy and let you grind on her face. In response she smiled in your cunt.

“Just let me do all the work darling.” She mumbles the almost inaudible words against your clit, shooting vibrations to the sensitive nerve. The action made your back arch and your stomach getting an unfamiliar sensation. Donna knew you were getting close so she quickened her skilled movements.

The pleasure you felt was almost unbearable; a few tears slipped from your eyes out of utter pure pleasure as your climax hit you full force. Donna’s movements slowed and rubbed small circles in your hips as your muscles relaxed. Once you caught your breath you moved off her, thighs still trembling. Donna sits up and gestures to you to sit next to her.

“Damn I didn’t know you had all that in you.” You teased, making her blush and look away bashfully.

“Mm yeah, let’s rest up I know you need it.” Donna retorted while also changing the subject; you laid down while she kicked off her shoes and took off her gloves. She settled down next to you as you snuggled up closer to her, whispering a small thank you.

“No need to thank me, I won’t let anyone, especially those bastards, break your heart again, I promise.”

Masterlist

[dreamcsc]

left or right? fuck that, go up! ❧ l. seokmin

this is my last post of 2024 so i just wanna say, thank you guys for all the love and support you’ve show this blog over this month. i’m so grateful that i am privileged to be able to share my passion and something that is a part of me. as much as i say i love writing, i always find myself questioning my love for it because i truly believe that i suck. but at the end of the day, i always come back to my first love. i just want to encourage every one that, it’s okay to question your love for your passion. it’s a part of growth in your craft. but always, always, put your mental and physical health first. in order to be good at your craft, you must live well enough to be able to do it.

once again, not beta read. merry belated christmas / holiday to those with a heavy heart and feels stuck in life. take that breath, baby. slow down, you will be fine.

you never really put a label on anything, more of a realistic and raw kind of person, and leaving things as they were. this means that calling lee seokmin way past midnight sounded a stretch in your friendship—but seokmin always seem to be different than you expected.

because the moment he heard his phone ring exactly at one in the morning and the caller ID showed a picture he secretly took of you with one of the prettiest smile, he came running to you.

“seokmin, are you here yet?” you find yourself calling out through the phone, tears threatening to fall.

you had been stuck in your apartment, cooped up at your tiny table in your bedroom. your appearance is not presentable, you were aware of that. writer’s block had always been this bad for, had your head aching, and your expectations diminished. it took exactly an hour to write the starting sentence in the second book of your series. still, you find yourself nitpicking at the little wording of it.

seokmin’s voice responds with panting, “yes, i’m here. i’ll welcome myself in, don’t worry about getting me.” he reassures you without you needing to point out your insufficiency.

the call is cut after you gave your thanks and you lowered your head in exhaustion. questions of if writing was this difficult for you, ‘why did you even try’ comes rushing to you like storms. if writing the first part of your story is taking this much toll on you? why even try anymore?

however, it was like heaven-sent when, “oh, baby,” rings throughout your apartment. it was seokmin’s angelic voice, and in matter of seconds, you are being gently pulled into a soft embrace, and you almost melted. almost.

“how long have you been at it, love?” seokmin asks you while patting out your hair. you respond with a sigh, “more than i need to be.” you unwillingly admitted.

seokmin frowns deeply, “no breaks yet?” you nod your head, ashamed and hoping you won’t get scolded by him. it was clear you were at your last straw—one more trigger and you’ll actually jump of a cliff.

but the scoldings never came. instead, “was it difficult for you?” you hear seokmin’s angelic voice ask again. the tears are now wanting to fall once again, but you didn’t dare let them.

“you must have been struggling a lot. haven’t you? i know it all, my love. i know it all, it’s okay.” and there goes the wall you’ve built around yourself. they fell like water, flowing like storms yet so still. seokmin’s hands tightly wraps around you as words start spilling without your permission.

“i’m scared, seokmin. i’m scared that i’ll lose my passion for writing if i can’t get such small thing right. i’m scared i’ll be proving others and my parents right—that this job of mine is not worth the risk. i’m—i’m afraid i’ll be proving myself wrong. i feel like i’m forced to choose a side, and i don’t want that. it feels like i’m running an endless race if i don’t pick any sides—my passion or the expectations. i don’t know what to do anymore. i need answers. i need solutions! i don’t know what to do with myself!”

seokmin hums in acknowledgment, his hug still tight as ever. it was like he didn’t want to let go of you, didn’t want you to let go of yourself.

“my love, shh. please, slow down, breathe. take a deep breathe for me, yeah?” seokmin reassures you.

“even if you feel like you’re in an endless race, maybe, just maybe. not running can be an answer you need. running itself is tiring enough. and so what if you stop running for a while just to take a breath? it means that you’re still alive, breathing. and even if you’re stumped at which direction to head, the sky is an answer too.”

though the words seokmin says to you are serious, you couldn’t help but bitterly chuckle. “i can’t fly, seokmin. i can’t reach the stars just for this little passion of mine.”

seokmin shakes his head in disapproval and gently places his palms on the side of your cheeks, staring deeply into your eyes. a smile grace over his lips as he speaks.

“you already have the stars in your eyes, hand-picked from the sky.”

[baldysgate]

Quiet Moments

HALSIN/GN!TAV SFW || ACT II SPOILERS || CONFESSIONS || FLUFF || 2ND PERSON POV ||

No Warnings just a giant sweet druid and Tav slowly confessing their feelings. Mention of Tav having healing spell.

NOTE: A bit of fluff between ACT II & III for Halsin.

You hear him before you see him, a loud grunt from along the lakes shoreline as you make your daily rounds after a long day. The sun is close to sinking past the horizon, everything bathed in an orange hue. 

The Druid sits on the soft white sand, back against a bit of driftwood that made its way ashore, one arm winding a white cloth around the other as he does his best to stifle the pains that rise up in his chest.

"You know there's spells for that." You say softly as to not startle him, and despite the pain he turns his head with a smile that creases the corners of his lips. 

"Ah, hello." He leans back, the old wood creaking beneath his weight, "afraid I ran out after the last battle." He sighs and even though hes in pain theres still a warmness in the way he speaks. 

And so he came here to lick his wounds? Halsin had joined only a fortnight ago and yet you were learning that the druid did not like taking up space, ironic given his size. It hurt to think he would rather suffer such pain than inconvenience anyone around him. You wondered just how often he'd done this exact same thing as archdruid. 

"Here." You offer, sitting on the driftwood with a soft smile, "Let me see."

His brows turn up slightly, as his lips parted only to close again, relinquishing the cloth to your mercy. 

The bit he had managed to wrap soaked the cloth with red stains, pulling it away from the angered gash ever so softly as to not cause him further discomfort. With you near he seemed to stifle the sounds even more as the wrapping finally came free. The wound was deeper than expected.. had he really intended to hide this?

"It is not as bad as it looks." He seemed to notice your alarm. 

"Halsin, " your voice was soft, but firm, "I need you to take care of yourself. Maybe in the grove things were different, perhaps such things even went unnoticed. But I need you here. We need you here." 

He looked up towards you, grey eyes looking into yours with a look of surprise. As if no one had been concerned for him in years. A pang in your chest to think it had taken so long for someone to care as much as he had done for others. 

"I understand.  Perhaps I have been a bit hasty in my eagerness to lift the shadowcurse..." He admits, "sometimes I let such things cloud my mind."

A gentle admittance, only the surface of something so much deeper. It had only been a few weeks, but you had grown fond of his company. 

"It can't have been easy." You breathe, soft tingles sprouting from your fingertips as they press against the angered skin around his wound, "the shadowcurse. Thaniel. Biding your time in that grove and wishing you could just do *something*. I can understand your impatience… But you must take care of yourself first." 

The faint light glows and the wound begins to lessen, angered flesh slowly mending. It's entrancing to watch the red lines slowly pull together once more until all is left is tanned skin. 

The silence has gone on for too long, glancing up to meet soft eyes beneath heavy brows. Halsin does not look away, as if he had been studying the lines of your face. "I am lucky to be in such wise company." He says softly, still looking into your eyes. 

You chuckle, realizing your hands are still against his now healed arm, the faintest warmth touching your cheeks, "Hardly that. I just know what it's like to be frozen in fear of failure."

He looks away then, as if giving such things words were far too much. Those grey eyes staring off to watch the sun begin to sink and give way to twilight, "I suppose that is what it is. Fear. Pity that I had sought to give words to such hollow feelings for so long and here you are to sum it up in one simple word." He lets out a sound between a laugh and a sigh, "Perhaps I have been afraid all along." 

Feeling the melancholy that radiates in his words you lay a gentle hand against his shoulder, "Archdruid or not, it does not make you unbound to fear. Or any feeling for that matter. Like nature, there is a balance to all things." 

The soft brush of his calloused fingers caress against yours, nearly daring to intertwine with your own. The feeling steals the breath from your lungs. But as quickly as the feeling is there it is gone again and you pull your hand away from him. 

Now was not the time for such thoughts of bodies intertwining and sweet poetry spoken between lovers. It is true the druid had been a steadfast and loyal companion who you had grown to admire perhaps more than you had anticipated. But he had his own goals, as did you. The threat of the Absolute would leave no room for anything else. 

"Your words always have a way of quieting the unsettling of my heart. I am truly grateful." He turns to look at you once again, a soft smile lined his lips. 

"I am always here, should you need me." You smile back. 

"And I, for you." 

The moment feels far more intimate than when his hand brushed against your own, slowly being bathed in a blanket of night. The Moonglow accentuates the lines of his face, each one like a story woven into a tapestry. You recognize- not for the first time- how handsome he is.

"We should get some sleep. Tomorrow we make our way to moonrise towers and break the Shadowcurse once and for all." The confidence is more in your voice than movement, rising up to stand. You knew if you sat any longer there would be more than just words exchanged between you.

"Together I have no doubt it will be so. Go now and rest, dear friend. I need only a few moments to reconvene with nature." His voice is gentle, as if soothing a lover. 

"Goodnight, Halsin." You turn to walk away.

"Rest well."  He says just loud enough for you to hear it. 

—------------  z z  z 

The fight had been unlike any your party had seen before. Hells, who could even have imagined fighting a God mere days ago? And yet here you all sat–tired, but alive. So many things had been revealed it made your head swim. The sounds of chatter between everyone had become overstimulating after a day filled with revelations and adrenaline that you quietly excused yourself and headed for a lone hill just outside of camp's light. 

The land stretched out before you, the soft sounds of crickets and the rustling of nocturnal animals scattering on the hunt were all to be heard. It was a welcome sound after the infernal drumming of the Absolute that echoed in your mind just hours earlier. After such a grim and dark place the world seemed brighter, even if just for a moment. With a deep sigh you sit amongst the grass, back against the lone willow whose leaves danced in moonlight. The air was cool, a welcoming breeze as if thanking you for ridding nature of such a blight. 

Your hand touches the damp grass, a bit of dew from when it had rained earlier, the smell hanging in the air. To your surprise your fingers glide against polished wood, looking down to see the familiar sight of a lute stashed away close enough to be shielded from the weather. It’s a dingy old thing..but someone had taken the time to repair small parts that had decayed or broken. Fingers plucked a string in curiosity and it let out a warbled off tune note. 

“Ah, I see you’ve found my hideaway.” A familiar deep voice says from behind you , turning your head to catch Halsin walking up the hill, the light of camp accentuating his large stature.

“I didn’t mean to intrude.” You are already moving to stand but the druid gestures you to sit as he follows, taking the spot at your side. 

“Not at all, such a place is better with company.” Halsin makes a gruff noise as he sits against the grass next to you. 

“You’re not injured, are you?” You ask, remembering the other night. 

“Far from it.” He smiles, looking out into the forest, “Perhaps a bit sore…But I feel better than I have in quite some time.” His eyes turn to you, the smile even softer still “You truly are remarkable.” 

His gaze sends a shiver through you, hiding behind a chuckle, “I can’t take the credit, without all of you the outcome would have been far more grim.” 

He seems to regard you for a moment, as if mulling over your words, “Perhaps. But without your leadership we would certainly be worse for wear.” 

The familiar heat rises in your cheeks, turning back to look out at the landscape as you press your back against the large willow. There’s a pang of pain and you draw your arm upwards which sends the pain shooting through your shoulder with a hiss. 

Halsin moves to steady you but his hand only hovers against your arm, “Are you alright?” He asks, voice lined with worry. 

You wave to him, “Fine, fine. I think the adrenaline is finally wearing off. Just a bit of an ache, starting to feel my age.” 

He chuckles, a warm sound that’s deep in his chest. He’s older by far, but he makes no mention of it. 

“Here.” He gestures finally, motioning for you to scoot forward. There's an unmistakable trust between you both that makes you follow his suggestion without question. He stands up just enough to nestle himself between the tree and you, long legs coming to rest on each side of your own. The feeling is now burning at your ears, feeling his hands against your back and drawing upwards towards your shoulders. He kneads with his thumbs against your tired muscles and you have to stifle the pained sound that leaves your lips. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, his voice nearly at your ear as he lessens the strength in which he attempts to worry the knots from tired muscles.

“No, no. Just a little rough going at first” You mutter out, "but it feels nice..." leaning forward as Halsin returns to his efforts. 

The night of the tiefling party darts back into your mind. When spirits were high and the drink was adling everyone's mind. Regardless if you partook, the mood had given you the courage to lay your cards on the table. You had known him less than a day but the strength in which he spoke, the soft reassurance in your brief meeting had made you want him more than anything. 

Which is why it hurt when he had kindly dismissed your proposition. He'd seemed interested enough, but a small part made you wonder if he'd simply meant to let you down easy. That perhaps you had read too far into things since then.

And so the days had gone by, busying yourself with the tadpole and dodging death at every turn. It helped to pry your mind from the rejection but every so often Halsin would praise you with his kindness or look from across the fire and it all came crashing down again. 

And now with his hands against your back, forcing sighs and groans from your throat only furthered your confusion. 

As if sensing your very thought he chuckled, "Do you remember the night of the celebration in the grove?"

It's unfortunate that your shoulders tense, as he feels the tension immediately before you can think to control it. "Yes, very much so." The sound is but a whisper on the wind. 

"I was enamored with you then." He chuckles, unfolding completely, "I had resigned myself to dying in those warg pens, drawing my last breath knowing I had failed to right the Shadowcurse from over a century ago. And yet when the world seemed darkest it gave me you."

Your hand brushes against the leather of his pants, his hands slowing their work as you turn your upper body to look into his eyes, a look of surprise washing over your face.

"But when you asked me to share in a moment of pleasure, well, I was hesitant only in that my mind had been elsewhere. To not give you my full attention then would've been less than you deserved.” His gaze is warm.

“But say it isn’t what you want anymore and I will remain here-as a friend, by your side.” He adds, though there is hesitancy in his words, as if the admittance from you alone would shatter him whole.

You breathe in deeply, smelling the earth and something distinctly Halsin. A smell of blended herbs, wood and moss. Over the past few weeks you had only wanted him more… A man who had already given up so much and was willing to part with more for the ones he loved. Hells, he’d thrown away everything to follow you into the depths of despair only because he had promised you he would. You didn’t want to take anymore, only to give, even if it was for just a little while. He had voiced his propensity to roam in both heart and soul, to be unbound as nature designed. It was enough in this moment to know this was truly where he wanted to be. 

“Halsin.” His name is sweet as it falls past your lips, “ There is nothing I want more.” you smile, readjusting to sit on your knees, turning to him and taking his hand into your own and feeling the rough calluses formed from years of hard work, pressing the palm against your cheek. “We don’t have the luxury of thinking far past today.. but whatever this is- for however long it will be- I want it with you by my side.” 

He breathes a deep sigh of what you can only understand is relief, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone, “You have no idea how I’ve longed to hear those words.” His eyes are on you, the flecks of gold around his irises bright even with only the stars for company, “Come here, to me.” His voice is low but welcoming. 

You lean in, his hand at your cheek guiding you to him as your lips meet. It feels like the world crumbles in on itself, the kiss first soft and unsure soon growing passionate and desperate. His other hand moves to your back, pulling you into him so that your bodies press against one another. Your heart is hammering in your chest feeling his tongue dance with yours, running your fingers through chestnut brown hair. 

Needing air after what felt like hours you pulled away, a smile pressed against his lips, “That was far better than I could have ever dreamt of.” He admits, his hand against your neck with a soft caress of his thumb against the vein there.

“You stole the words right out of my mouth.” You smile, a fleck of light catches your eye, a glowing ball of green light that draws your attention.

A sea of fireflies dance around the willow, their lights illuminate a sea of stars that swayed with the wind. The sight makes you gasp, watching them grow near before flitting away into the night. 

“It seems Thaniel approves.” Halsin chuckles, pulling you into him so that your back rests against his chest, both of you watching the green lights dance before going out. It only lasted a few long breaths but it is beautiful against the blue of night. You can feel his breathing, a steady rise and fall of his chest that could easily lull you into a soft slumber. 

There was no telling how long you both lay there, stretched out under the willow tree staring up into the stars. His arms found their way under yours, his warmth like the sun as the night began to cool. At some point through the talking and soft touches your eyes began to close, trying to force them back to just feel the moment for just a bit longer. 

"Rest." He whispers your name , breath hot against your ear, "I am not going anywhere."

It's all you need as your eyes finally close and drift off into a peaceful sleep.

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 2

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home @clp-84 @thelightknight21

if you wanna be added to the tag list comment

Fic Playlist

Songs for this chapter:

Hurt Nine-inch Nails

Tear you Apart She wants Revenge

Chapter Playlist

Masterlist

Previous

Chapter 2: Beneath the Ashes

Arriving at Y/N’s place, I park and take a moment to steady my racing heart. I can already see her silhouette through the window, pacing back and forth. Taking a deep breath, I step out of the car, determination mixed with dread coursing through me.

As I knock on the door, it swings open almost instantly, revealing Y/N’s fiery gaze. “You actually showed up,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d actually end shit,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, but it comes out more defensive than I intended.

She steps aside, letting me in, and the tension in the room is palpable. “What did you expect? You’ve been ignoring me for weeks! You think I’d just wait around forever?”

I clench my fists, my patience wearing thin. “I’m dealing with a lot right now, Y/N. You can’t just act like I’m the bad guy for trying to handle my shit!”

“Handle it? Is that what you call shutting me out? Not even telling me your grandfather passed? What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, her voice rising.

“I didn’t want to burden you with this!” I shout back, the frustration bubbling over. “I thought you’d understand!”

“Understand what? That you’re pushing me away while I’m trying to be here for you?” She steps closer, her anger radiating off her like heat waves.

“Y/N, stop,” I warn, trying to keep the situation from escalating further, but she doesn’t back down.

“I won’t! You think I’m just going to sit here and let you treat me like I’m nothing?” she yells, shoving me back, her hands pressing against my chest.

I pause, staring at her in disbelief. “I dare you to put your fucking hands on me again, Y/N,” I challenge, my voice low and dangerous.

She steps into my space, glaring up at me, unyielding. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

In a split second, the anger surges, and I grab her shirt, pulling her closer. “You think I’m fucking around, Y/N? I told you from the jump: I don’t play that ‘putting hands on each other’ shit.”

What the actual fuck am I doing

Every time she tries to pull away, my grip tightens, the fire between us flaring. “I hate you,” she spits, the venom in her words cutting through me.

My heart sinks, the words landing like a punch to my gut. “You don’t mean that,” I reply, my voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

She hates me..Well I hate me even more.

“Don’t I?” she counters, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Because right now, I can’t stand you!”

Join the fucking club yn. 

The thought cuts deeper than I care to admit, but I can’t back down now. “You think this is easy for me? Losing my grandfather? It’s tearing me apart, and all I’m asking for is a little understanding!”

Her expression falters for just a moment, and I can see the conflict in her eyes, but then it hardens again. “Understanding? You think I can just overlook you shutting me out? You think I’m just supposed to be okay with that?”

No, I just wanted you to be patient with me. Why Can’t I just say that

“You want to throw everything away because I’ve been dealing with my shit?” I can feel the desperation creeping into my voice. “You think that makes it any easier for me?”

She stares at me, breathing heavily, the anger shifting into something more complicated. But the moment hangs thick with unspoken words, and I can feel the walls between us closing in tighter.

“I don’t know, Sukuna. Maybe it’s too late for us,” she finally says, her voice quieter now but still firm.

I swallow hard, the weight of her words settling heavily in the pit of my stomach. “No,” I whisper, desperate. “It can’t be too late. Not for us.”

She scoffed while walking away from me. I found myself suddenly following Y/N through her apartment, desperation propelling me forward. 

This can’t be happening. Not now. Please, Y/N, just hear me out.

"You don't fucking get it," I growl, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"Explain it then," she snaps back, her voice watery, barely holding back tears.

Fuck... she’s crying... She’s crying again... I can’t... Oh god... I can’t fucking do this. 

My chest tightens, 

The sight of her in pain tearing at something deep inside me.

“Please just stay and explain it to me,” she pleads, her eyes searching mine for something—understanding, reassurance, anything.

You want me to explain it? To tell you how much it hurts? To tell you that you’re breaking me into a million pieces and don’t even know it? How will that help anything? It won’t make you want me back. It won’t take back the way I’ve been acting or our fights. All I’m doing is hurting you.

“It’s not your fault, okay?” I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I know that. It just... it’s a lot.” My heart feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice, emotions crashing over me like waves.

Y/N cuts me off before I can say more. “I’m not doing this anymore, Sukuna.” Her words slice through the air, final and resolute.

Not doing this anymore.

 The phrase echoes in my mind like a death knell. My stomach drops, a heavy weight settling on my chest.

“What do you mean?” I ask, the words tumbling out in a rush. “You can’t just—”

“I can and I will,” she interrupts, her voice rising. “You’ve shut me out for so long. I can’t keep waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and realize what you’re doing to us!”

But I don’t want to lose you!

“I’ve been trying to be there for you, but you keep pushing me away!” she continues, her frustration boiling over. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m not important enough to you, like you’re too busy drowning in your own problems to even see me!”

“I’m not drowning, Y/N!” I shout, the rawness of my voice shocking even me. “I’m trying to stay afloat! You think this is easy for me? I’m lost without you, but I thought I was protecting you by keeping my distance.”

Her gaze hardens, and for a moment, I see the glimmer of hope flicker in her eyes, then dim. “Protecting me? By shutting me out? By pretending like everything is fine when it’s not?”

I didn’t want to burden you…

“I thought you were stronger than this, Sukuna,” she says, her voice breaking. “But instead, you’re just hurting yourself and pushing me away.”

God, it hurts.

“I’m scared,” I admit, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m scared of what losing you really means. I don’t know how to handle all this, and I thought… I thought maybe I could do it on my own.”

Her expression softens for a fleeting moment, but then it hardens again. “But you can’t. You can’t do it alone. You need to let me in.”

“I know,” I reply, my heart pounding in my chest. “But I don’t know how. I don’t know how to explain any of this without breaking us completely.”

“Then don’t,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Just be honest. Just... talk to me.”

I want to. I want to tell you everything, but what if it’s too late?

“Please, Y/N,” I plead, stepping closer, desperation coating my words. “I need you to stay. I can’t do this without you.”

She shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Sukuna. I need someone who will be there for me, not someone who keeps shutting me out.”

And I don’t want to be that person.

“I’m trying, I swear I am,” I say, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. “But I’m so damn scared of losing you.”

“I’m scared too,” she replies, her voice small. “But I can’t keep doing this alone.”

In that moment, the distance between us feels insurmountable. I can see the pain in her eyes, the hope slipping away like sand through my fingers. “Y/N, please…”

But she’s already stepping back, shaking her head slowly. “I can’t, Sukuna. Not like this.”

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck…shit…this can’t be happening….why does my head fucking hurt

I know pushing further like this won't help, but I'm desperate. I know I’m being toxic, clinging onto her like this when she’s clearly done, but I don’t care. I could almost hear Jin laughing at me now.

 The great heartless Sukuna, broken up over a girl. Who would’ve thought?

I follow her to her room, watching her collapse onto her bed, her body language screaming exhaustion. She grabs her iPad and starts scrolling on Tumblr, shutting me out. Ignoring me completely.

I sit down beside her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her, trying to close the distance any way I can. "Y/N," I start, my voice coming out soft, barely a murmur, but she doesn’t respond. She keeps scrolling, her face set in an emotionless mask. I can feel her slipping further and further away.

"Get out, Sukuna," she says, her voice steady but hollow. No anger, no frustration. Just...tired.

But I don’t move. I can’t. My pride might be screaming at me to just walk out, to keep whatever scrap of dignity I have left, but my heart? My heart is keeping me glued here, next to her, silently begging her to look at me.

I reach over and try to take the iPad from her hands, but she quickly turns away, hugging it to her chest. I don’t care how it looks; I lay down beside her, scooting closer, feeling the tension in her shoulders, her back rigid with resentment or maybe…exhaustion.

 I fucking missed this...I love her so much. When was the last time I told her I loved her?

I swallow, nerves clawing at my throat. "I love you, Y/N," I whisper, the words tasting like desperation, slipping out before I can stop them.

The silence is deafening, thick and suffocating. Then, a sniffle.

"Don’t say things you don’t mean, Sukuna," she murmurs, her voice breaking, barely holding back tears.

I'm fucking this up. I’m losing her. God, someone, help me not fuck this up further.

She turns towards me, finally, her brown eyes—the ones I’ve grown to love, that used to sparkle every time I made her laugh—now red and puffy, burdened with the pain that I caused.

Without thinking, I lean in and kiss her, gentle at first, then desperate, pouring every unspoken apology, every ounce of regret and love into it. I pull her close, my arms wrapping around her tightly, as if I could keep her from slipping through my fingers any further.

Her body tenses, and for a second, I think she’ll push me away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she clings to me, her fingers tangling into my shirt, pulling me closer. The room is quiet, save for our shaky breaths, the sound of our hearts pounding against each other’s chests.

Please don’t leave me. Please, Y/N. Just stay. Just a little longer. I’ll be better; I swear I will.

Y/N’s lips pull away from mine, and she stares up at me, her eyes searching, conflicted. I feel my heart thundering in my chest, every beat a reminder of how badly I want her, need her right now.

"You taste like cigarette smoke, Kuna," she murmurs, her voice a little unsteady. I can’t help but chuckle, sliding my hands slowly up her sides until one rests gently on her cheek, brushing a thumb over her skin.

"Yeah, sorry about that," I say, my voice low, tinged with a hint of guilt, but I can’t seem to let her go. My need to be close to her, to feel her warmth, is overwhelming everything else right now.

She bites her lip, glancing away, the hesitation clear on her face. But my fingers trace the line of her jaw, gently guiding her face back toward mine. "I need you," I say softly, my voice raw with longing. My hand cups her face as I lean down, pressing my lips against the curve of her neck, then biting my way down, savoring the way her breath catches each time my teeth graze her skin.

"Please, baby," I whisper against her neck, my voice almost pleading, "I need you so fucking bad."

She lets out a shaky sigh, her fingers curling into my shirt. "Kuna, we shouldn’t," she whispers, her words barely audible, as if she’s trying to convince herself as much as me.

I know I shouldn’t be doing this; part of me is painfully aware of how wrong it is to mess with her mind like this, to sleep with her when we’re both standing on shaky ground, barely able to hold each other up. But the ache in my chest, the hollow feeling I’ve been trying to drown in anything but my own thoughts, is too much to bear alone tonight.

"Just... let me forget for a little while," I murmur, my hands sliding down her sides, tracing every curve.

I pull her shirt over her head and slowly kiss my way up her body until I'm staring into her eyes.

"You... you look......... like you want......." she pants. "Like you want to eat me."

Cause I fucking do. God…

"I have never... wanted anyone... more than I want you, right now," I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear. It feels intimate as I press my body against hers and then roll my stomach in a slow grind that almost feels like I'm fucking her. I do it twice more, hissing as she shivers with pleasure.

The whimpers. Fuck me... The whimpers. Fuck I forgot how she sounds. It’s been a month.

I kissed my way down her body this time, taking one of my hands to firmly grip her jaw to keep her focused on me “Eyes on me princess.” 

I realize her jaw once I’m sure she focuses on me. I slipped her shorts off, revealing her soaked cunt. 

I spread her legs open, while I slid lower down the bed. I push her legs back “Hold these and you better not drop them, pretty girl.” I slide my tongue from her clit to her close, slowly then around her inner lips. I swirl my wet tongue around her clit 

ONCE! TWICE! THRICE!

"Fuck daddyyy-"! I hear her say. I smile a bit going a bit lower to her hole, I spit, almost drool onto her pussy and slurp up her juices. I feel her wetting my face more. I slip a finger in then another. 

“Kuna, please…please fuck me” she whined, begged.

Fuck she’s…I forgot how sweet her taste is. How sweet she sounds. 

“ FUCK... keep doing THAT... I love the way you beg. Love the way you say my name.”

I slowly suck my way back up to her clit once more, dropping a quick nibble on it causing her to pull away from me. I wrap my arms around her hips and pull her back down and keep my grip on her.

“Come on yn. Don’t run from it. I don’t play that.”

I continue sucking on her clit. I add in one finger then another. I listen to her moans echo through her bedroom. Her pleas in my ears for more…

Or is it to slow down? Fuck either way, the way she sounds is gonna make me bust.

I thrust my fingers in and out faster, the way her my pussy is wet and the squelching sounds it’s making. I stop for a moment staring at her pussy saying “talk to me some more.”

I feel yn’s body get tense under me. That doesn’t stop me. I suck on her clit harder. I arch my fingers upwards grazing her g spot. 

“Su….kuna please please please…ouu fuck..right there…please!”

I slow down causing yn to practically scream at me. “Sorry princess” i smirked

I picked up the speed again this time switching to tongue fuck her while i play with her clit. 

Yn’s moans grew louder, while she grew wetter. Her back arched off the bed, well she attempted to but he pulled her back in, almost stifling me completely. 

I feel her tightened around my tongue then I feel her all over my face. I smiled but I didn’t stop. I kept at it like a crack addict. Switching my mouth and fingers between her clit and her hole. She was fighting and twitching under me.

“Too much Kuna…please…you’re too much”

“Daddy please…Oh fuck! I can’t”

“Mmm gonna cum again..please…”

“Fuck mm coming…Kuna. Sukuna! Shiitt! Oh God.”

I release her legs to strip off my clothes. I watch her stretch her hand and stroke my dick. 

I'm hopeless for her. Fuck! I hope she doesn’t replace me in her life

 "God, I fucking love you," I groan, finally thrusting into her slick cunt, feeling it envelop me. Her cunt grip my dick and her legs are already shaking.

"Please," she gasps, biting her lip as she meets me thrust for thrust.

I swear to god, I could fuck you to death right now... Never been so fucking horny. 

I grab her hips to stop her from taking over.  “Just let me put in the work princess”

 I pushed myself inside her again, going all the way to the hilt—

My voice thick with desire, I confess my innermost desires, "I need you. I've always needed you, even when I pushed you away." 

I slid my hand up her body grabbing her throat, watching the lust and fucked out state all over her face. I watch her smile at me with that devious look in her eyes. The look I’ve missed in so long.

Her pussy is gonna be the death of me..Or is it her love. Maybe both

I release her throat, sliding my hands down her chest pulling on her nipples one by one, I slowly drag my hand lower, and lower until it’s on her stomach. I push down on it and angle my body slightly off to the side, picking up the pace more. 

Thwop Thwop Thwop! The sounds of her skin against mine, mine against hers became louder. “Kuna! Oh…fuck me please…harder!” Y’n is grinding up against her harder than before. 

This is fucking with my head.

"Please... don't... you're breaking me, Yn….fuck!” "I love you. Please..." my frenzied thrusts, driven by madness…maybe lust…or loss…

Fuck I need a smoke right now. 

My eyes were scanning her room trying to distract myself.

“Top draw on your left” yn moaned

“Huh..Fuck baby you’re killing me here..ss..wet and tight.” I groaned out. 

“You…fuck!...cigarettes top draw Kuna.” 

Am I that obvious..Jesus

I pulled out reach for the top draw and fished around, saw a pre rolled joint sitting in the ashtray and decided to take that instead. I quickly lit it up and took a deep drag exhaling then another. I leaned down to yn’s face talking slowly. “I need you yn…fuck. I really do.”

I flipped her over onto her stomach and arched her back nic for me. I took another hit feeling the thc slowly running through my veins. I eased inside her again

I’m slower this time around, “Throw it back on me baby. Take what’s yours. It’s your dick. You know that” I pull her hips back against her everytime she throws it back on me. 

“Oh my FUCKING god,” she cries out, her mouth hanging open as it hits her, rolling her under a wave of pleasure so pure and perfect, even I can feel it. Her body jerks, pussy spasming around my dick.

“Not done with your ass yet yn.” I wrap my hands around her hair and turn her face to the side, then press my body against her back pushing her into the prone bone/ collapsed doggy position. I take another pull of the joint before down and kiss her slowly exhaling all the smoke into her mouth.

 “Take me baby.” pulls out “I know I’ve been stupid these past weeks. Maybe even more” Thrusts in “I love you yn. Please baby. Anything but this.” pulls out “I love you, you matter to me” 

"I've been a fucking mess, Yn. Trying to protect you, trying to be the man you deserve. But I've been failing at both." 

I should shut up. Not say these things. I’ll make it worse

As I continue to move within her, my voice takes on a desperate tone. "I know I'm not good enough for you, but I can't bear the thought of losing you. You're mine, Yn. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you by my side. but you deserve so much better than me."

"My feelings are so twisted up,"

Leaning down, I whisper into her ear, "Why do you want to leave me, Yn? Why end it like this?" I murmur, pulling out briefly before thrusting back in. My words, a mix of desperation and possessiveness. 

“Cause..Fuck- fuck fuck fuck s’too deep- hngh” 

“Nah, ss not deep enough…I know you can handle more.” I sit back on the bed in a kneeling position pulling her hips with me Smack! I grip her ass in my palm, spreading it apart to spit on her cunt from the back. 

I push her head down into the mattress and rut into her.

Mine... You're mine, princess... Every time you move, I want you to feel it. To ache with it. To be reminded that you fucking belong to me…

I flip her back over onto her back wanting to stare into her warm brown eyes. I push my fingers into her mouth. The ones I had inside her, coated with the evidence of her desire. I grab the headboard to give myself more leverage.

Bed squeaking

Sounds of skin slapping, unsticking and slapping against skin

Smell of weed and sex in the air

It’s enough to almost put me over the edge. ALMOST!

Fuck baby... I'm gonna cum...she groans

Her body clenches around me, and that's all it takes.

"Oh god, oh god, oh GOD," she cries out.

"Yes,.. fuck yes...," I groan.

"Oh my gawwwwwd..." i feel her buck under me, trying to pull away from me, I pull her back down to me again

So close, baby... I'm so fucking close...

"So good... So fucking good...," I growl.

“Just take it..... Please, fucking take it.” I feel tighten around me, Her body clenches around me, and that's all it takes to push me over the edge

“I know love, I know. I’m almost there.” I groan, pulling back and thrusting again each thruster harder and deeper than the last. 

There's nothing better than this... Nothing...

My eyes close and I pull back a little, thrusting one, final, time.

I watch Y/N slowly drift off beside me, her breaths steady, her face softened, and for a second, I reach out, wanting to pull her close again. But she shifts, pulling away from me.

Y/N… please. Don’t do this now.

“Y/N,” I say, my voice low, barely holding steady.

Her eyes flick open, tired and worn. "Sukuna," she says softly, like she's already miles away. "Your stuff is in the living room. Please take it... and leave."

I feel something shatter inside me, something small but crucial, and I can barely keep my voice from breaking. "Y/N, ple—"

“Just get out!” Her voice is sharp, cutting through the quiet. I freeze, the final crack resounding through whatever was left of my heart.

They say bad things come in threes… or was it good things? Right now, I can’t remember anymore.

"Okay," I whisper, barely getting the word out. That's all I can manage.

I get up, get dressed, and head to the door where she left my stuff. I pick up the boxes and take one last look around her apartment. And then I walk out, closing the door softly behind me, knowing damn well there’s no coming back from this.

Down the hallway, down the stairs, step by step until I reach my car. I toss the boxes into the back seat, close the door, and finally slump into the driver’s seat. I don’t even reach for the keys—I just sit there, the weight of it all pressing down until I feel my lungs start to tighten, my hands starting to shake.

No, not now. Not here.

I close my eyes, hoping to calm myself down before the panic sets in, but it’s useless. My heart races, breaths coming short, shallow. I try to breathe slowly, but my chest feels tight, like it’s caving in on itself.

I sit there, arms wrapped around myself, as memories crash through my mind like a brutal tide—Jin’s smirk, my grandfather’s steady hands, Y/N’s quiet smile in the morning sunlight. I feel like I’m drowning in them, pulled under one after another, unable to surface.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. How did I fuck it up this badly?

But no answer comes, just the silence and the dark, swallowing me whole.

The quiet stretches around me, wrapping me in a thick fog of despair. I try to steady my breathing, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ache, but nothing seems to break the emptiness that has seeped into my bones. I sit there, feeling my pulse hammering in my ears, my head swimming with fragments of memories—Jin laughing at some joke he’d cracked, Grandpa teaching me how to tie a tie, Y/N looking up at me that first night we met, her eyes bright with mischief and something I’d been too damn scared to name.

How did I get here? How did I end up so alone?

The night stretches on, thick with silence, and I feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of everything I’ve lost. I take a breath, forcing myself to stay grounded, to push back the panic clawing its way up my throat.

I reach for my phone, my fingers trembling as I open my contacts and scroll to her name. I stare at it, the screen glowing in the dark, my thumb hovering over the call button. Part of me wants to reach out, to hear her voice just one more time, but I know it’ll only make things worse. She doesn’t want to hear from me—not after tonight. Not after everything I’ve done.

Let her go, Sukuna. Just… let her go.

I toss the phone onto the passenger seat and close my eyes, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel. The emptiness is overwhelming, the silence heavy, and I can feel the despair sinking its claws into me, dragging me under.

They’re all gone now. Jin, Grandpa… Y/N. What am I even fighting for anymore?

I take a shuddering breath, feeling the pain sear through me, raw and unfiltered. I sit there for what feels like hours, lost in the darkness, my mind spinning as I grapple with the realization that I’ve driven away everyone I’ve ever cared about. The regret is a bitter taste in my mouth, choking me.

Eventually, I manage to start the car, the engine rumbling to life, but the sound feels hollow, distant. I grip the wheel and pull out of the parking spot, driving aimlessly through the empty streets, my thoughts drifting as I try to numb the ache gnawing at me from the inside out.

Streetlights blur past, the city stretching out in a maze of empty roads and darkened windows, and for the first time, I realize how truly alone I am.

This is it,

I think bitterly.

This is what’s left. Just me… and a hollow, empty shell of everything I thought I had.

As I drive, the memories claw at me, and I let them, sinking into the pain, embracing it. Maybe, if I let myself feel it now, I’ll finally be able to let it all go.

[daydream-wordflow]

Dear Liam,

never in a million years did I think this was how it was going to end, but here I am saying goodbye.

I must admit that when I saw Zayn's name on the shared statement, it affected me in ways that I wasn't expecting. This whole situation has affected me in ways that I wasn't expecting.

One Direction entered my life when I was 12 years old. You were five ordinary boys, with a great voice, but not so good dancing skills, that sang their way into my heart. It was so admirable, even when you were performing for 65,000 people, to watch you sing around the world while being your goofy, gentle, true selves. It felt like you were having the time of your lives.

Looking back on it, I can't stop wondering if it was too much. I can't stop thinking that maybe I would rather never have known about the existence of One Direction than be going through this now.

I was sad when Zayn left and I was wretched when the band went on hiatus, but deep down, there was still hope. Now I am devastated and heartbroken, and I only knew a small part of you.

One Direction will never be the same without you, I hope you were aware.

I never had the chance to watch you perform live, although all the youtube videos and documentaries made me feel like I had. When the time comes, instead of singing with you, we will sing for you.

I listened to 1D songs, and also all your solo albums, during various periods of my life. Somehow, they always said what I needed to hear. It wasn't just a phase. It cheered me up during some of the hardest moments of my life and it made me company during some of the best. Every time I was anxious or afraid, I would sing a song from my favourite artists to calm myself down. I listened to your songs on my way to school, during a long car drive, on my way to college, while I did house chores, it was the soundtrack while I wrote my master thesis and it accompanied me on my first day to work.

Right now, they are helping me grieve. And it won't stop here. I will have the time of my life dancing to some of them on my wedding day, I will sing them to my children and have dance parties with my grandchildren. It's forever.

I am truly sorry that this is how things ended. I am sorry we couldn't save you. It is so unfair. I know that if you were given the chance, you would have done things differently. You deserved all the good things in the world. You deserved so much more.

I can't even imagine what your loved ones, your family, your friends and the boys are going through right now. I hope that, one day, your son will smile when he thinks about his father, knowing that he touched so many hearts and saved so many lives. That he was talented, enough and loved just by the way he was.

This is not how it was supposed to go, but thank you for bringing the guys together one last time. Thank you for bringing us together. It has been healing to see that so many people loved you and cared about you.

Thank you for the songs. Thank you for my teenage years. Thank you for the smiles. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for your laugh. Thank you for your words. Thank you for the love. Thank you.

"I want to write you a song, One to make your heart remember me, So any time I'm gone, You can listen to my voice and sing along."

I promise to remember you.

Always and forever.

Lisbon, 27th october 2024

[bagopucks]

J. Drysdale - Blind Dating

✄————————————

Jamie Drysdale x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning(s): alcohol consumption.

The end is pretty fast paced but I’m considering making a part two if enough people like this!

—————————————

This had to be a joke.

I tapped my foot impatiently against the floor beneath the table. Watching the man across from me fidget with his menu, peeking over it occasionally with a wide grin to ask some sort of question. Was he five? His hair was parted down the middle, looking as if it was still drying from a shower. He had wide blue eyes.. doe eyes, warm and welcoming compared to my scowl. He was handsome, but I couldn’t get past his behavior.

“What do you think you’re gonna get?” His voice was soft, but curious. I wanted to reply with, ‘whatever I can finish the quickest to get out of here,’ but I held my tongue. “The shrimp Alfredo looks really good.. I’m just afraid it won’t taste the same.” I would admit he was mostly talking to himself. I wasn’t being very open. But his statement piqued my interest.

“The same as what?”

“I used to live in California, right next to the beach. All of the seafood was so fresh.” I watched his broad shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

“That’s nice.” I looked down at the glass of water I held between my hands. This man was not very impressive. Nor did he seem overly confident. Or confident at all.

Could he sense my distaste?

“You can get something other than water.. I don’t want you to feel like you need to save my money.” His words brought a good reminder as to why I hadn’t walked out already. He was covering the whole meal.

“Thanks, but I’m avoiding much else at the moment.” I spoke, watching his big blue eyes look back up from the menu.

The fact that the man had been late was probably the driving factor that made me not want to give him a chance. I was never one to take to people who had a bad internal clock.

“So.. what do you do for a job?”

“I’m a journalist.” I answered his question briefly, my eyes wandering toward the window by our table.

“Nice! You must be pretty smart then.” An awkward chuckle fell from his lips. “I’d say I was okay in school.. but I never went to college. Just wasn’t my thing.”

“It’s not for everybody.” I shrugged, watching cars pull into the lot of the restaurant.

“Is this the first time you’ve done the whole.. blind dating thing?”

“No.”

“Oh.. this is my first time. I gotta admit I’m pretty nervous.”

“You don’t say,” the sarcastic phrase slipped ruthlessly from my lips. My gaze returned to the man to assess the damage, a momentary empathy filling my gaze. He simply chuckled again.

“I know.. my best friend always says I’m easy to read.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized softly, leaning back in my seat.

“It’s okay.. I get it. I can imagine I’m the last person you expected to show up..” his voice trailed off into silence before he shrugged once more. “You are very pretty.”

Finally. A compliment. I smiled. He seemed to loosen up slightly at the sight. I had been raised on the ideal of returning a compliment with a compliment, so I indulged his words kindly.

“Thank you, Jamie. I’ll admit you have beautiful eyes.” I watched his cheeks flush, my disinterest morphing quickly into a twinge of attraction. He was cute when he blushed.

“Thanks..” he whispered before his head seemed to duck behind the wall that was his menu again. What was once annoying slowly turned into amusing. Maybe I could cut him some slack. “Do you have any idea what you want?” He asked once more.

“I really love clams.” I glanced down at my own menu, at the item I had picked out the moment we entered the building. This was one of my favorite restaurants.

“Ew,” I heard Jamie mumble from the safety of his side of the table. My brow furrowed.

“You don’t like clams?” I leaned forward.

“Never had them.”

“Then how can you hate them?” I quickly reached out to pull his menu down, catching Jamie off guard. He immediately sat up. For the first time since he sat down, he was exposed, having to sit with no barrier between us. I refused to believe someone as beautiful as him had confidence issues.

“They look gross.” Jamie reasoned with a nervous grin.

“You’re trying one.” I demanded, smirking and folding my arms across my chest.

“Absolutely not.” I drew in a breath to insist before our conversation was cut short. Our waitress waltzed by with a grin, pulling a notepad from her apron as she greeted us kindly, informing us of the specials and the house alcohols.

“What can I get you two?” She glanced between the two of us, and Jamie’s eyes settled on me as a silent signal to go first.

“Can I get the garlic butter clams with a side of fries?” The woman nodded kindly and jotted down the order before turning to Jamie, who happily requested his own meal.

“Shrimp Alfredo and a side salad with Italian dressing?”

“Anything else for the two of you?”

“Can we get a bottle of wine?” I asked swiftly, “not too expensive, but whatever you think is best.” I had told Jamie I didn’t need anything other than water, but he certainly needed to loosen up. Wine was always a good way to take the edge off.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with that!” The waitress gathered our menus and swiftly turned to leave. My eyes settled on Jamie.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I spoke.

“I don’t mind at all.” He smiled, “as long as you share.” Though it wasn’t the best of jokes, his attempt still made me chuckle.

“Why are you so nervous, Jamie?” I folded my arms atop of one another on the table, leaning forward against them,

“Oh god… where to start?” He laughed at himself, reaching upwards to brush his hair back. “Well first of all I was late… which really wasn’t my fault, and I’m sorry. I had to- stay over time at my job. Then I had to run home and grab a shower real quick. It threw off my whole plan. Then I came here and find you sitting all alone- and I just felt bad. But you look- like.. amazing. I feel like I could have dressed a little nicer. And you’re kinda intimidating. When I lived in California I usually had a wingman, now I’m flying solo.. it’s kinda scary. Not to mention I’m new to this whole area. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to go on a date so soon,” he seemed amused by his own misfortunes. A nice refreshing attitude to the usual of people whining and complaining. He drew in a deep breath only to sigh. “It’s been a long day, and I really didn’t want to mess this up. I still don’t.” It was the only explanation I needed. The judgement was lifted from my shoulders fairly quickly.

“It’s okay.. you haven’t messed anything up yet.” Less than minutes ago I would have had a different response. “Hopefully this wine’ll take the edge off too, yeah?” I watched Jamie’s anxieties melt away, nodding with a wide grin.

“Yeah.. that would be amazing.”

And it certainly was. The minute the wine came Jamie and I dove in. We opened up far more, and I learned a lot about the man in front of myself. He told jokes, he spoke about what he loved and what he was passionate about, and he asked a million questions about me. When our food came the conversation slowed but it didn’t stop. I was taken with his smile, his glow, his tentativeness. And just like he promised, when we finished eating, he paid for everything. I hadn’t planned on spending any more time than necessary with the man, at least not at first. But I’d admit the turn of events made me sad to think of the fact that I’d have to say goodbye. Or would I?

“I had an amazing night,” Jamie spoke as he stood from his chair, grabbing his coat off the back of it.

“I did too.. but it’s not over yet.” I watched his brow rise in surprise as I stood too. “We have one more stop.” I walked around the table and reached for him. Jamie had no problem with letting me take hid hand. We walked side by side out of the restaurant, and he made sure to hold the door for me. “We should get an Uber,” I suggested, reaching for my phone. Though Jamie was quick to argue.

“No, they take too long. I’ll call a friend.” We sat down beside one another on the bench outside of the building. I leaned into Jamie’s side for warmth, and he was swift to wrap his arm around me while he dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey…”

I tuned out the conversation as I watched cars drive in and out of the lot. I relished in Jamie’s warmth, though I also told myself I was crazy for giving in to him so easily. I usually wasn’t into men like him. But he was certainly an exception.

“My friend said he’ll be over in five minutes.” I nodded as Jamie spoke.

“That’s pretty fast.”

“He’s really supportive.” Jamie laughed softly. “Where are we headed?”

“Cant say.”

“As long as you don’t axe murder me.” I rolled my eyes and laughed at the brunette’s words.

“You’re safe with me, Jamie.”

“That’s good.” I looked up at him, only to find him staring back. His blue eyes held questions I couldn’t decipher.

“What?” I finally asked, breaking the silence and recognizing the closeness.

“Nothing,” he whispered. “Nothing at all.” I smiled at his words. “You’re very pretty.” My heart fluttered and I looked away.

“Jamie,” I scolded, not wanting to be flustered.

“I’m serious,” he insisted with a giggle. I felt a cold hand touch the side of my neck as he moved my hair. I shivered. “Your beauty is more intimidating than your scowl.” He teased, causing my head to whip back in his direction. I swatted the man’s chest, laughing along with him as he found humor in his own joke.

“You’re mean,” I pouted.

“Please tell me where we’re going.” I laughed, watching his baby blues adopt a puppy dog stare.

“No way. Quit asking.” I pushed myself away from him, only to have him snatch my arm and pull me right back. I laughed, standing to try and get away before he followed suit. Jamie scooped me up into his arms, holding my back against his chest. All I could focus on was his beautiful laughter.

“Please-“ the honk of a horn cut him off. We both looked to see a bright red truck pulling up to the entrance of the building. “Oh wow.. that was fast,” Jamie mumbled before releasing me. He walked to the edge of the sidewalk and opened the back door of the truck. “Ladies first.” He held my hand as I stepped up into the vehicle, and Jamie was quick to follow suit.

“Seems like this date’s going well.” The man in the front seat turned to look at us. “Where are we headed?” I stood up and leaned over the middle console to speak with the man. We eventually settled on typing the address of the location into his phone before I fell back into my seat. The man let out a long whistle that I could tell intrigued Jamie. “Seems like this date is going really well.” The man teased.

“Where are you taking me?” Jamie insisted on asking. I ignored his question, and each one that followed for the entirety of the ride. His focus shifted from myself to the scenery out the window when he noticed we were leaving the city. It wasn’t a long drive, but it was far enough out of the suburbs to be intriguing. We crossed a few bridges, and found ourselves in the midst of a riverside neighborhood before Jamie started to put two and two together. The calm, ‘you have arrived’ of the GPS caused him to look back at me.

“Is this your house?”

“Surprise?” I pushed the car door open and slipped out. “Join me.” It wasn’t a demand. More so a request. Jamie had no issue saying yes. He followed me out of the car.

“Be safe!” The man in the truck called.

“Thanks Ty!” Jamie waved as his friend left, and I was quick to begin rummaging through my clutch for my house keys.

“You live on the river?”

“Wait ‘till you see my back deck.” I guided him to the front door, opening the glass door and unlocking the deadbolt of the actual door. I stepped inside and kicked my flats off as Jamie followed, toeing off his dress shoes. My home was a patchwork of decor. My walls were lined with a fresh yet old looking floral wallpaper, I had China cabinets full of old glassware my grandparents had passed down to me. Somewhere I had knitted quilts and a shelf full of inherited thymbols. The scent of fresh flowers was the leading smell in the home, and Jamie was quick to find the source of that scent as I closed the door. I turned to find him sniffing the pot full of dahlias seated on a stand by the window next to the door.

Why had I never been into men like this before? Whatever uncertainties I had about bringing him home slowly melted away.

“Want anything to drink?” I asked softly, catching his attention.

“What do you have?”

“Fresh iced tea, pop, water.”

“Tea would be nice.” Jamie followed me into the kitchen, taking in the decor as I poured two glasses of tea. When I was done I led him out of the kitchen and into the dining room, giving him his cup. I walked past the table, opening the sliding glass doors to the back deck that stretched out over the riverbank. The fairy lights strung on the roof of the deck glowed in a comforting way. I opened the window next to the glass door where my record player sat.

“You have a beautiful home,” Jamie spoke softly while I searched for a record. I found one and set it up to play before turning the device on.

“Thank you. I don’t like too many modern things.” I stepped outside with Jamie, and sat down on the swing at the edge of the deck. Jamie sat with me.

“Is there a reason you brought me here?”

“It’s private. Intimate.” I shrugged, eyes settling on the river.

“You trust me?”

“Asks the man who hid behind his menu when he sat down. I’d say there isn’t much to be cautious of.” I teased, laughing softly. I turned to face him, draping my legs over his own and leaning my back against one of the arm rests of the swing. “I don’t like to bring men home.” I admitted before taking a sip of my tea. “But that’s because many of them aren’t like you.”

“Thanks?”

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night.” I peeked at him, watching his lips turn upwards into a smile. “I’d hate to make your friend drive back out here this evening.”

“That’s the only reason?” Jamie asked teasingly, resting his free hand on my shin. I laughed.

“Maybe I have more.. but they’re secrets.” I shrugged. “Let’s just say it was a good first date.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[unsoundedcomic]

Whumptober 2024 - 07 - "Only For Emergencies"

New Tawhoque was a dangerous place for Ssaelit, but if a woman knew just what crooked street to turn down and upon which unmarked door to knock, she might find a sanctuary or two open to those of the Way.

This one was a public house (semi-private house, really, they did not allow Gefendur) called Arbert's. A woman slipped its heavy front door closed behind her and pretended she didn't notice the wall of eyes move to sweep across her from the bar. Finding the newcomer hidden beneath a dumpy rain slicker and a waterproof bonnet, the collective gaze rolled back towards their whispered conversations and their glasses of imported beer. She chose a hightop in the corner, asked for a cheap pour of Trieste, and unwrapped her hand to see if the bleeding had stopped.

"They cut your finger off," a male voice observed behind her. She jumped a foot in the air, then collapsed forward over the injury to hide it from him.

"It is nothing!" she said.

"It is nothing now," he agreed, "But until recently I think it was your right index finger."

"Oh, why do you care? Did you want it?"

She turned. Her shoulders hunched even higher to discover an unreasonably tall man looking down at her, his face half a void of shadow. "Perhaps," he admitted at length. The words sounded strange. Artificial. Pymaric? What a strange thing to say, and in what a strange voice to say it! "Which of the gangs have you crossed?"

"I did not 'cross' any of them!" Her head lashed back and forth in pain, then anger. "I am a good and honest woman! I went to the constabulary! I went to report all my hens dead!"

"O-oh!" He seemed to suddenly lose a foot of height, shocked. Perhaps he loved animals too?

She continued: "I think my neighbour's hounds had at them in the night. One of the constables said it would cost thirty sem for them to go and investigate the scene. I pointed my finger in his face and called him a villain. Then he said he would have that finger, and before I knew it he had nipped it free with a spell! Have you ever heard of such a thing? That is not how policing works!"

"Naught works in the expected manner here," the stranger whispered. For all his prior forwardness, he suddenly seemed to be avoiding the sight of her gory hand. "I… am afraid I can be of no help confronting the local lawmen, but I would happily pay for your drink and direct you towards a more honest physician than the twin-eating sawbones you will find on the high street."

His voice was unnervingly tinny, but there was warmth there. In spite of her anxiety and her throbbing hand, she tried to wind down. She hadn't been in town very long but even the Ssaelit she had tried to befriend were standoffish. She was beginning to understand why. Sharteshane was a land of traps and predators; everyone was waiting to see what you had, and if you were strong enough to protect it. Why she had supposed the law would be different, now seemed beyond her. A final illusion shattered.

"Is it still raining?" he prompted when she took too long to decide on an answer. "It is forever raining here. It is as though the city must be kept wet, or its amphibian skin will crack open."

"And out will pour the bloody flies," she agreed, removing her coat. It had done little good. The clothing beneath was sodden, draping, and she coloured to realise how prominently her bosom rose. Oh, dear, her nipples were visible too. These cheap Sharteshanian weaves simply did not reflect her patterns correctly-

Now it was the stranger's turn to give a start! He shuddered and stumbled away as though burnt. Had it been the fly remark that had disturbed him? He was surely scandalized to hear such language from an Aldishwoman. Of course he would be! Soon she would be a ribald Sharte, all cusses and swears-

Ach, no, no. He was trying not to look at her chest. A gentleman! Of course.

"You must forgive me, sir! I dove into the rain after the attack without first buttoning my slicker and… and…" Her good hand fumbled at her bonnet, slipped it free of her head so he could see her earnest green eyes. Oh, a mistake! Now he would see she was a Soud, and hate her-

He stumbled again, struck, and grabbed at his midsection! Then from her eyes to her hair his attention alighted once more upon her missing digit.

"What is it?" she demanded, "Are you ill? What is wrong with you!"

"D-did you keep your finger?" he sputtered, almost wailed, "Or did the constable take it?"

"What a question! You monster! Bartender!"

"Bartender!" he echoed, "Aye, please bring to me my emergency order! I require my emergency order!"

A moment's pause, and a broad-shouldered Bronze suddenly jumped the bar. He was nearly seven feet tall, with a touch of the Glut about him. A steaming hot bar towel was in his grasp. The stranger grabbed it, two-fisted it with all the alacrity of a drowning man reaching for a watertight coffin. Then she swore she heard a hiss as his impossibly perfect white teeth bit down upon it hard. When he started gnawing it like the hounds last night had surely gnawed at her poor hens, she flew from the pub, never gathering the courage to ask if he'd been the one to leave nothing in that coop but two beaks and a pile of bloody feathers.