#i struggled so heavy with this pls forgive any mistakes

[almostempty]

Paris, Texas pt. 2

aka: 2 Texans, 1 Lady 🎀 The joel x javi x f!reader threesome PART 2!!

WC: 8k | Other fics | Rating: 18+ | Read on Ao3 | PART ONE

Paris, Texas the video by my love

this one goes out to my fellow mlm fans and voyeurs, i hope it’s everything you wanted and more <3; dedicated to everyone that gets a tag bc i love you 5ever

Summary: Joel, still struggling with his conflicting feelings about the threesome with Javier, gets a surprise visit at work from the man himself that leaves him even more confused. After a week of seeing Javier in his dreams, he gets another surprise visit at work.

Note: it’s pretty heavy on the m/m action so if that’s not ur thing no worries you can still have a forehead kiss from me 

Tags/warnings: pwp, smut on smut on smut, internalized homophobia, dubcon joel/javi, infidelity, oral (m and f), consensual f/m sleepy oral, m/m anal, it’s not exactly a cuck chair–but there is a chair and u get to watch from it, top!joel, bottom!javi, but also switchy/vers in the future bc, respectfully, i would to experience the best of all worlds, i do not have a dick (i’m just a member of the fanclub) so if any of the m/m action is wildly inconceivable or something pls let me know i’m happy to receive feedback (spit as lube just pretend ok), some angsty guilt and shame in between the smut bc joel is still in denial, uhh dom!joel, idk if contractors have offices and i spent too long googling about it before remembering the point was the porn so pls forgive if that ruins ur immersion, tell me if i forgot something important

standard almostempty warnings at this point: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise no descriptions of skin tone, blushing, hair, idk tell me if there’s something that takes you out (physically); everyone is probably bi; no y/n, no beta just fueled by the power of adhd and delusion, if u see a mistake it was the gremlins i’m sorry 

PLEASE TELL ME IF U LIKE IT OR IF U HATE IT OR IF YOU WANT MORE

Joel is buried in paperwork. Permits and invoices are stacked up on his desk in organized chaos. The week has been a disaster. He blames his low-grade headache on the deadlines and number crunching, but he knows something else makes him uneasy. He rubs the pads of his fingers between his brows as if he could massage away the stress or erase the permanent worry line carved into his features. 

The noises outside his office blend into static as he recommits himself to getting caught up. 

He rolls up the sleeves of his worn plaid shirt, sighing to himself before he resumes. His pen scratches across a form he doesn’t care much about when the door to his offices creaks open. 

His head snaps up, looking across the room with a sharp glare. He’s not in the mood for interruptions, and he's already irritated at being stuck behind a desk playing catch-up. He isn’t expecting the man that enters the room. Stifling a surprised noise, he narrows his eyes to a sharp glare. He’s not in the mood for work-related afternoon interruptions, let alone a surprise visitor.

“So, this is the boss’s office?” Javier’s voice is smooth like he didn’t just appear out of nowhere and uninvited.  

“Yep,” Joel mutters, grip on his pen tightening in his fingers. Dropping his eyes back to his work, considering ignoring the man. Maybe he can will away the pest by avoiding eye contact and ignoring the intruder sizing up his space. 

Javier scans the sparse office. Empty walls, bare bones, and practical. 

Joel assumes he’ll have a snarky comment about the size of the room or the view. He keeps flipping through the paperwork in his hand, braced for Javier’s attitude. Joel is tense and prepared to snap back, but his shoulders are tight and stiff as if he’s been sleeping on concrete for a week. 

The signature scent of Javier, spicy and smoky, fills the air. The fragrance stirs Joel's memories and causes a visceral reaction. It makes his gut churn and fingers itch with restlessness. 

The last–and only–time he’s seen Javier plays out like a well-edited montage. New images flash every time he blinks. Dark eyes. Sweat glistening on Javier’s chest. Lips, tongues, and teeth, he tries to subtly shake the thoughts out of his head.

Javier drops into the chair in front of the desk, eyeing Joel with a casual bravado. He crosses one leg over the other, resting his ankle along his knee in his dark jeans and rusty red button-down. He links his hands behind his head as if he’s prepared to settle in and bask in Joel’s discomfort.

Javier’s eyes roam over Joel’s desk. “You don’t have a secretary for all that paperwork?” he muses. A smile pulls at the corner of Javier’s mouth that Joel could sense without looking at him. He can feel the heat of Javer’s gaze pouring over the desk between them, making the air feel heavy, thick with something unsaid. 

Joel can feel his pulse jump in his throat, chest constricted. “Nope.” He hoped his clipped tone would push Javier out of the room, but that hope flickers and dies when he takes in the nonchalant sight. Irritation spikes in Joel at the whole disturbance. He’s not interested in letting Javier take up residence in his office. Or his mind. 

“You need somethin’?” Joel’s throat feels dry as he spits out the blunt question. He flips through the next invoice without processing a single word on the page. He’s tired and has a low threshold after a week of poor sleep. Though, he’d never admit, except maybe to you, that he’s easily irritated even with a good night of rest. But you always slice right through his grumpy shell.

“Just in the neighborhood,” Javier drawls, “thought I’d stop by.” 

“Right.” Joel rolls his eyes, ”We supposed to be friends now?” Or what? Something more?

Javier shrugs casually, like that’s up to Joel to decide. 

Joel tosses his pen and paperwork onto his desk. He takes a breath, forcing his features into something neutral. The night you brought Javier into your home, and your bed has haunted him. Made it so he couldn’t think straight. Tortured him, not with regret, but with the messy, tangled knot of shame and desire. 

Now Javier is here. In the flesh. Self-satisfied and content, watching Joel and waiting expectantly. Waiting for what? 

“Is staring me down part of your ex-cop deal? You come here uninvited to interrogate me or something?” Joel accuses with annoyance in his eyes. 

“I don’t need to interrogate you,” Javier answers, mellow and cloying, “already know what you want.” He shifts, leaning forward, speaking quieter. “Just wanted to see if you’ve figured it out yet.” 

Joel works his jaw as he crosses his arms. A brick wall of resistance. The fuck is that supposed to mean? 

He clocks when Javier’s eyes lower, tracing the line of his arms, the same way you do when you catch Joel in a mood. You so easily diffuse his anger, disarming him with your wit or completely dismantling him with your body, unlike the instigator in front of him, who seems to only get under Joel’s skin. 

Joel lets out a deep sigh. Javier isn’t here to be friends. 

“It was what she wanted,” Joel says, his eyes hard, his voice firm. It felt like a weak excuse the second the words left his mouth. Shit. 

Javier can taste the blood in the water. His eyes glint at the thrill of the chase. “Is that all?”

The room feels like it’s shrinking. Heat crawls up the back of Joel’s neck, anger entwined with something else he refuses to name. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he replies, standing up from his chair, trying to tower over Javier in some pathetic attempt at dominance. 

A move he immediately regrets.

Javier also stands, circling around the side of the desk to look Joel up and down. Boldly. He admires Contractor Joel. The way he fills out his well-fitted work jeans, the way his deep green plaid hugs his broad shoulders and strains around his biceps as he crosses his arms again. 

The workwear suits him. A strikingly masculine figure. Powerful and seductive. Tempting Javier just by existing. “I get it,” Javier murmurs to himself, understanding what you’d mean when you first described Joel. The disgruntled expression, the furrowed brows and sharp eyes–he only makes it worse. 

“Always thought the whole construction thing was a cheesy porn gimmick,” Javier admits, “you could pull it off though. You got the toolbelt and the hat?” 

“You can leave,” Joel replies dryly. 

Ignoring Joel, Javier steps closer, “I’m just saying,” he rests a finger on Joel’s shoulder, drawing a line down towards his chest. Joel’s body is rigid, the contact searing his skin even through the soft material of his shirt. “You look good. This is your color,” he tugs at the dark green fabric below Joel’s throat. He drops his hand, and Joel feels like the earth could swallow him whole. 

Javier’s mock compliments make Joel’s stomach flip before he steels himself again. Javier flashes a diabolical smile, catching the flare of Joel’s eyes and the hard swallow of whatever retort he couldn’t muster. 

“You’re really trying to convince yourself, aren’t you?” Javier’s voice is dripping with mock sympathy. 

Violent, intrusive thoughts race through Joel’s mind—socking Javier in the jaw to wipe that smug look off his face, grabbing him by the collar and running him through the wall, slamming him onto the desk. Face down so he could lean over his body and tell him, hot breath on the back of his neck, that he’s about to learn to watch his mouth. 

Joel’s hands flex, knuckles popping, and heat stirs at the base of his spine at the dark desires. Suddenly, very aware of their close proximity. Close enough to feel the heat of Javier’s body, and to see the unwavering confidence in his face. 

Amused by Joel’s volatility, Javier scoffs gently. His warm breath fans between them, and a smirk spreads on his face. Out of context, it’s only a gentle tease. A flirty smile and charged moment. But to Joel, strained like the last barricade holding back a beast, it’s too much. He snaps, and the beast gnashes its teeth. 

“Get fucked,” Joel’s voice is a rumbly, low growl. 

Javier’s smirk blooms into a Cheshire Cat grin. “I’d ask if you were offering, but I don’t think you’ve got it in you.” 

Blood pounds in Joel’s ears. Drowning out the voice that wonders why Javier can rile him up so easily. The reminder that he’s got no reason to be jealous. That you’ve done nothing to make him worry. 

“You were only doing it for her, huh?” Javier’s voice was quieter but still laced with danger.

Joel’s jaw is clenched tight when he replies, “Yep.” It doesn’t carry the conviction he needed to convey. 

“Shame she isn’t here now, then,” Javier keeps pressing. The honesty in his tone throws Joel off. 

“Would do anything for her,” Joel adds, softening fractionally at the truth in it.  

“Anything?” Javier repeats. 

“S’right.” 

“For her.” 

“For her,” Joel nods in agreement. Letting out a breath, he didn’t realize he had been holding.  Javier rocks back on his heels like he’s about to turn and stroll away, satisfied by God knows what part of that interaction. 

But he pauses. 

Time feels weighted until Javier moves in closer. Another smile breaks across his face at how easily he can shock Joel into a trance with his audacity. Acting in defiance of all of Joel’s words. 

His hand snakes up Joel’s chest until his fingers are slipping between the curls at the base of his skull. He leans in close, lips ghosting over the shell of Joel’s ear, “Is this for her too?” He shifts back half a step, and with the hand on the back of Joel’s head, he urges him to look down. 

Javier’s hand had moved between them, palming the bulge in Joel’s jeans, his fingers pressing against his erection through the denim. Joel’s lips part, his whole body jerking forward instinctively, and a low groan rumbles in his chest before he can stop it.

Javier’s smirk deepened. “That’s what I thought.”

For a moment, Joel’s mind blanks out, lost in the haze of physical sensation. His body reacts before his brain catches up. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Joel snaps, grabbing Javier’s wrist and yanking it away. His voice is hoarse, breath ragged. 

“Anyone could walk in here.”

Javier didn’t pull away; he didn’t flinch. His head cocks in contemplation at Joel’s specific reasoning. 

Leaning in closer, Javier’s voice drips with amusement. “You’re afraid of them?” he nods towards the door. “Worried about what? That your crew is gonna find out their boss likes cock?” he laughs softly, a dark, teasing sound. 

Joel’s chest heaves, heart pounding. Anger, lust, and frustration all swirling together inside of him.

“You think they won’t take orders from you if they hear the noises you make for me?” 

He knows Javier is running his mouth to provoke him. But it works on him anyway. Joel huffs dismissively, without a thought, “You think I’d make a sound for you?” 

“I think you’ll beg me to stop before you do.”

Before he can dwell on the ramifications, Joel acts on impulse. Stepping back, his face hardening as he stares Javier down. That smug bastard. He’s consumed with a defiant urge to remove that smirk from Javier’s face. 

“On your knees,” he orders, his voice cold, flat, and restrained.  

Javier’s eyebrow raises, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Why, Joel?” he asks, voice playful. 

“You know why.” The presumption is underscored by the sound of Joel’s belt clinking before he unzips his jeans. He grips the base of his thick cock, menacing and erotic, as he keeps his hard gaze on Javier. 

He accepts the challenge, kneeling slowly, never breaking eye contact. 

“Yeah,” Javier murmurs, “you look even better like this. All frustrated and desperate to be touched.” His voice is thick and low, like molasses. Almost reverent, but at the same time gloating, as if Javier’s only proving himself right. It’s infuriating to Joel that the man can so freely express his desire and rile Joel up further with the same words. 

Javier’s hand covers Joel’s as he gives Joel’s cock an experimental stroke. Joel hisses through clenched teeth, slamming his eyes shut and tilting his head up to break the eye contact. To sever the intimacy. He’s taut, impatient, and ready to snap. 

Until Javier’s lips wrap around his weeping tip, and they both groan in unison at the sensation. The wet heat of his mouth sends a sharp throb of pleasure through Joel. The intensity causes his hand to shoot out to his desk, fingers digging into the edge in an attempt to ground himself. 

But it’s no use. 

Javier knows exactly what he’s doing, taking him deep, fast, his mouth warm and eager. His hands work in symphony with his mouth, twisting around his length, massaging at his thighs and hips, deliberate and competent. He has nothing to be shy or restrained about. 

Sinking into the pleasure, Joel starts to reason with himself. A mouth is a mouth, he can allow himself to have this, to let himself enjoy it.

And he does. 

Javier’s tongue teases underneath the sensitive head of Joel’s cock before he slides past his lips, along the flat of his tongue, and deep into his throat. It’s good. Why is it so fucking good? Joel’s head tips back down, blinking his eyes open. His body shudders. 

It’s not just a mouth. 

Seeing Javier’s head bobbing, his cock disappearing past the man’s lips, it stirs something wild and untamed within him. 

It’s a mistake to finally look. To really watch, taking it all in. The handsome features on Javier’s face, the unapologetic pleasure he takes from every reaction he pulls from Joel’s body. The strength and finesse of his hands are so different from you. He’s drawn to follow the movement of  Javier’s hand dropping to readjust himself, to ease the pressure on his own aching cock. 

The brief friction looses a moan from Javier, vibrating around Joel’s length. It’s undeniably fucking hot. Joel’s control slips, possessed by his urges. 

He reaches for Javier’s face to cup his jaw and hold him still. And he gives in. Fucking into Javier’s mouth, hips jerking recklessly. It’s a desperate strain to tamp down the groans clawing at his throat, and it doesn’t help when Javier watches him with his half-lidded eyes. No. 

“Shit,” he admonishes himself. Suppressing the captivating draw he feels. He tries to find focus, to keep it together–but there’s a loud knock that staggers him. 

A voice, muffled outside of his office door, shouts to him, “There’s a vendor here, says he needs your sign-off.” 

Joel’s breath hitches, “Fuck,” he spits, hands grasping the desk and Javier’s jaw, forcing out a coherent response. “Be there in a minute!” he calls out, voice strangled. 

Javier doesn’t stop. He doubles down, hollowing his cheeks and greedily coaxing Joel to lose control. And, of course, he does. Joel’s climax hits fast and hard. His last attempts to stifle any noises falter. He gasps, body jerking as he comes, spilling into Javier’s mouth. 

Dazed, he can only blink as Javier pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking. 

“Seems to me like that was just for you.” 

Joel is wrecked, leaning against the desk, his heart racing. He doesn’t have time to process anything before Javier kisses him—brief, chaste, leaving behind the taste of himself on his lips.

“Better get out there before anyone worries, boss,” Javier whispers with a wink before walking out of the office, leaving Joel standing there, stunned, unable to move. 

As the door clicks shut behind him, Joel isn’t sure if the knot in his stomach is anger, guilt, or worse, wanting more. 

Seems to me like that was just for you. 

It echoes, slowly settling over Joel. 

He nearly doubles over when the reality finally hits. His thoughts race, consumed by the thought of you. What did he just do? 

…………..

Joel is wracked with guilt and misery for days. Suffering in his own self-imposed torment. 

He needs to tell you, but he can’t figure out how. There’s no version of, “Hey baby, you know the guy from the threesome? The one that I threatened to kick out of the house? Well, he showed up to my office, and I may have come down his throat before he disappeared without a trace like a dick-sucking fairy.” that he can come up with that sounds redeemable. 

Worse, he still can’t get over the guilt and shame of how it even happened. Seduced by another man? He can’t fathom the reality that another man could turn him on, refuting the way he felt when he watched Javier sink to his knees. And rejecting the truth when his cock stirs at just the memory. Joel is at a complete loss for how to explain it away. 

It fucks with his sleep. He jolts awake in the middle of the night, aching and hard and furious that Javier has invaded his dreams. He sits up in bed, dragging his hands over his face. And you stir, always attuned to him. 

You’re warm and sleepy, but concern washes over you in the moonlight. 

“Can’t sleep?” you murmur, reaching out to pull him towards you. “What do you need?” Always so grounded, so considerate. It twists the guilt inside of him. He tries to erase his self-loathing and reassure you, to ease you back to sleep. 

You aren’t quite conscious enough to listen, but when you shuffle beneath the sheets to cuddle up to your man, you gasp when you accidentally brush over his hard cock. Not because it’s a shock to find, but because in your barely lucid state, you’re uninhibited. Earnestly expressing the desire his arousal sparks in you. 

“Use me,” you whisper, slow and syrupy. Difficult to deny. 

“No, baby, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” Joel argues softly. 

You roll over, muffling a low whine into your pillow, before turning back towards Joel. You can make out his profile in the dim glow of the room. You can feel the resistance, but you give it another shot. 

“It’s not okay,” you grumble, and his head jerks towards you, “can’t go back to sleep now, you’ve got me all wet already.” 

“Okay,” he gives in like he could ever hold out on you anyway. He pulls back the sheet, exposing your sleep-warmed skin to the cooler air. Running his palm down your spine as you melt face down on the bed. He crawls overtop of you, straddling behind the curve of your ass, before lowering himself, caging you under his body. 

The skin contact is overwhelmingly intimate as he presses soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. You settle with ease and whine softly into the dark room as he rubs his cock along your slick folds. He continues, grunting in his own pleasure, as he glides along your seam, soaking in the sensation of you. Wet and needy from his touch. Until your legs are twitching and your whines grow louder, impatient, and sharp until he hears you say his name. When you plead for him to fuck you already. 

Then. He adjusts and sinks slowly into you, filling you inch by inch, grinding languidly against your plush body. 

You’re soft. Warm and wet. You take him so well, and he knows how to find the angles to make you shake and cry out for him. Now he chases it, needing to please you, to give himself to you. He plunges into you deeply, whispering praise against your skin until you’re shuddering and gasping beneath him. He nearly comes with you, but when the thought of Javier pops up, he falters. He pulls out of you and gently flips you over. 

“Sleep,” he commands as he settles between your legs, and you let it take you. Drifting off before you can process that he didn’t finish. Content to dream about Joel’s tongue dipping into your fluttering entrance and his hands spreading your legs wider. 

Joel stays between your legs, making your dream a reality. Trying to purify himself by worshipping you. Pouring his sins out between your thighs. Seeking forgiveness through your pleasure until he’s too tired to dream. 

He’s convinced this method will work. That eventually, he’ll forget about Javier altogether. But Joel underestimates how deeply the other man has sunk his claws into the back of his mind. It’s unsustainable, and his exhaustion becomes more and more apparent throughout the week. 

Despite thinking he’s able to cover up his internal torment, you always seem to know when something is wrong. You don’t push. You’re patient and gentle with him. It adds to his guilt. 

You help out in any way you can. Commenting that he seems stressed and tired but never asking for an explanation. You let him stew on his own emotional nightmare in solitude. As he prefers. 

For now. 

When Joel admits to you on Friday night that he’s behind at work, you simply nod. He doesn’t argue when you offer to bring lunch to him the next day. But he can barely meet your eyes when you smile and trail off about how you know just what will help him get through the day. 

You tell him decisively that he deserves to finish up early if he’s going to the office on a Saturday. He can only nod. Determined to spend the morning figuring out how to confess to you. With words. 

He’s still in a haze of fatigue the next day. Despite the rest of the office being quiet, his head is loud and buzzing. Likely the reason he’s so taken off guard when the door to his office swings open. 

“Working on the weekend?” 

Joel’s pulse spikes as the sound of Javier’s voice fills the room, smooth and mischevous. 

Anger floods his bloodstream and cuts through the fog of shame that had been clouding his vision. Joel crosses his arms and levels a ruthless glare at the man leaning against the doorframe. 

Javier should be the one that looks out of place. Overdressed for the occasion, in the wrong place. But he stands confidently, neatly groomed, and polished. His dark blue collared shirt and fitted jeans highlight his broad shoulders. He looks like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, and his expression says he knows it. 

“No,” Joel says gruffly. Unperturbed, Javier sails into the room. 

“I don’t have time for this. Get out.” Joel says, his voice low, dangerous. He stands, hips leaning against his desk, prepared to back up his threat. His tolerance is already out the window for Javier. 

Javier shrugs, movements so fluid in relation to Joel’s fixed demeanor. 

“You didn’t say please.” His smirk is maddening. Joel’s fuse is short. He’s not interested in games. Not interested in having anything to do with his surprise guest at all. But he doesn’t move. Words caught in his throat. 

“Besides,” Javier continues breezily,  “you aren’t very convincing. I told you last time, I like this look on you, all mad and–”

Joel feels thorns clawing at his throat. Furious that his nerves flutter in response to Javier’s backward flattery. He can’t be thinking straight, that’s all. 

In fact, it’s damned near impossible to think when Javier keeps running his mouth, pushing every button he’s got. 

“Fuck you,” Joel hisses, vibrating with frustration, cutting off whatever Javier’s next words would have been. 

Amused by the interruption, Javier’s smile widens, eyes gleaming. “Mm,” he purrs, stepping closer, “You would like to, wouldn’t you?”

That’s it. 

Joel snaps, his hand shoots out, grabbing Javier by the front of his shirt and shoving him roughly against the nearest wall. The loud thud of Javier’s back hitting the drywall echoes in the small office. But the smirk on Javier’s face only deepens. 

“Touchy today, aren’t you?” Javier teases, breath coming out in a soft laugh. His body is pinned between the wall and Joel’s, but he doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, he looks pleased with the predicament. 

Joel’s breath is coming out hard and fast, fists still gripping the fabric of Javier’s shirt. This is the last person he wants to see right now. He seethes. Pent up and compressed into a dangerous coil. 

“You think this is funny?” Joel snarls, his face mere inches from Javier’s. 

Javier’s smile softens into something darker, more intimate. “A little,” he admits, leaning in just enough that their noses almost brush. “But, you seem to be taking it pretty seriously.” Javier shifts under Joel’s grip, his hands skirting up Joel’s waist. “You’re so worked up.” 

Joel grits his teeth, a ferocious-looking expression that only eggs Javier on. 

Dropping to a whisper to demand that Joel listens closely, Javier adds, “Maybe you’re not mad at me at all.” 

Before Joel can snap back, Javier shifts, movements effortless and exact. 

In an instant, Joel finds himself flipped, his back flat against the wall, slammed with a force that he wasn’t expecting. Javier’s arm presses across Joel’s chest, and his hips press against Joel’s in a way that sends a hot wave of need shooting down Joel’s spine. 

“Maybe,” Javier murmurs, lips to Joel’s ear, “you’re just mad at yourself.” Javier rocks his hips into Joel’s, grinding against his body in a slow, deliberate motion. A shudder ripples through Joel’s frame, even as his mind rebels against the thrill. “Denying the truth.” He emphasizes his point, pelvis pressing into Joel’s hardening cock, rolling his hips again. “Denying the pleasure.” 

No. Joel holds out. He isn’t going there. Not now, not ever.

But damn, the way Javier has him, the heat of his body against Joel’s. It tugs at the tangled knot of confusion in his chest. The knot that’s close to unraveling. 

“Fuck you,” Joel spits again, but it lacks the venom from earlier. His voice is a little shaky, resolve crumbling the longer Javier stays this close.

Javier smiles, his lips brushing against Joel’s jaw. “Say it, Joel.” He’s all-consuming, like a tidal wave crashing over and destroying all of Joel’s hastily constructed defenses. Javier is a relentless force. 

“Say it,” Javier demands. “I already know. Knew the first night we met,” he murmurs. “Just need to hear you say it.” 

Joel’s heart pounds against his chest, and his mind races. He wants to shove Javier off, wants to do anything other than stand there and feel his body respond to every damn word Javier says. Instead, he can’t seem to do anything. Can’t stop the muscles spasming in his core, or the way his chest heaves under Javier’s arm. 

“You can’t, though,” Javier whispers, his voice a dark, teasing rumble. He drops his arm, releasing Joel from his hold. “Such a shame. I wanted to know what you could do with that pretty cock of yours.” 

That was the last straw.

Joel grabs Javier by the waist, roughly spinning him around, and shoving him face-first onto the desk. 

“You wanna know what I can do with it?” his voice is harsh and wild. 

A reckless energy blazes between them. He pushes Javier down, leaning over him, chest pressed into Javier’s back. One hand snakes down Javier’s side, stopping at his hip. The other hand firmly planted on the back of Javier’s neck, pinning him down. 

Javier catches his breath. He doesn’t resist. If anything, he leans into it, arching his back, breath coming out in soft pants as Joel’s firm body boxes him in. With their bodies pressed tightly together, Joel’s straining erection isn’t subtle. “That’s more like it,” Javier murmurs, breathless but still smug. 

“Shut up,” Joel’s voice is hoarse. He is losing himself in it, the heat, the tension. Javier’s solid, toned body beneath his. He doesn’t want to think anymore. Doesn’t want to feel. He just wants to take control. To push past all the noise in his head. 

His body is on fire. Adrenaline, testosterone, and arousal all surge through him. Heightening every sensation, forcing him to be present. Rooted in his physicality. 

Gritting his teeth, Joel’s hands grip Javier tighter, a bruising force. 

“You’re gonna be good now,” Joel orders, “For me.” His voice is rough dark, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide the anger—or the heat—coursing through him. He can’t deny it right now, not when it burns so intensely.

He shifts his stance behind Javier, grinding his hips forward and feeling how Javier’s body responds. How he invites the contact and braces against the desk. Sweet, thick satisfaction pools at the base of Joel’s spine. 

Javier is still mouthing off, taunting Joel. Despite his voice sounding more breathless, it still brims with arrogance. “For you,” Javier repeats Joel’s words. “I thought it was all just for her? Have you changed your mind now?” 

Joel doesn’t answer. He’s too far gone. His hands move to the waistband of Javier’s jeans, yanking them down roughly, exposing the curve of his ass. Javier lets out a small gasp but doesn’t protest. In fact, Joel can feel the anticipation humming in Javier’s body, and he’s amused when Javier presses back as if he needs to dare Joel to go further. As if he could stop now.

Curling over Javier’s body, Joel presses his fingers to Javier’s mouth. “Suck.” Javier complies, allowing Joel to slip two fingers past his lips. Javier lets a hum vibrate around Joel’s fingers that causes Joel to roll his hips, grinding his still-clothed erection against Javier. 

Losing the war with himself, Joel takes out his resentment on Javier. He hooks his fingers into Javier’s cheek–jerking his head to the side. He glowers at the signs of arousal on Javier’s face. The undignified hunger. 

Remnants of disgust curdle in Joel’s gut. “You’re fuckin’ sick,” he accuses in a husky whisper, removing his fingers and straightening, breaking the eye contact that stirred something fierce and hot in his veins.

Accusations aside, Joel continues. He watches, smirking to himself, as Javier tenses at the sudden contact when Joel runs his hand over the curve of his ass. He takes his time. Enjoying his own exploration of Javier’s body. Smooth skin and firm and muscular. 

When he slowly pushes a finger inside, Javier’s body tenses at first, but Joel is persistent, working in deeper and stretching him open. 

Javier lets out a soft moan, still managing to sound smug even with the sharp gasp that follows. “You act all pissed,” Javier’s whispers, “but you love this.” His voice drips like warm honey with a teasing bite. 

Joel grunts, ignoring the taunts, focusing instead on the way Javier’s body relaxes beneath him, allowing him to add another finger. Javier’s breath hitches and he drops his head onto the desk. 

“Yeah,” Joel mutters, “you like that.”  

His words on encourage Javier to continue, “Know you wanted this,” he breathes, “that you’ve been thinking about it since last time, since the first time.” He continues his murmuring, words spilling over Joel’s desk, “I know because you’ve been in my fuckin’ head since that night.” 

“You’ve got an awful smart for someone in your position,” he continues, mindlessly flipping the attitude back at Javier, pointedly ignoring his confession. 

A strained chuckle comes from Javier, his body tightening with every twist of Joel’s fingers. “You still think you’re in control here?” he breathes, voice challenging and raw. “You’ve got no idea.” 

Joel pulls his fingers out abruptly, letting out a throaty growl as he shoves his jeans down just far enough to free himself. He spits in his hand, slicking himself up with rough, hurried strokes, his mind focused on the sight of Javier bent over his desk, waiting for more, begging for it. 

“Let’s see if you can keep running your mouth with my cock inside you,” Joel’s voice is layered with satisfaction. A challenge. He’s firm, gripping Javier’s hips and lining himself up. The room feels still, their ragged breath the only sound filling the air. 

He feeds his cock into Javier slowly. The tight heat of Javier’s body draws a guttural noise out of Joel, and he pauses for just a moment, letting the sensation wash over him. Then he pushes in deeper, inch by inch. 

Javier lets out a sharp moan, hands balling into fists against the flat top of the desk. “Fuck,” he breathes, and this time there’s no teasing edge, just raw need. 

Holding still while they both catch their breath, Joel’s hands dig tightly into Javier’s hips, anchoring the two of them together. He buries himself to the hilt, savoring the overwhelming sensation of heat and friction. 

And then he starts to move. 

Slowly, at first. Deliberate. He moves with measured control, hips snapping forward, pushing deeper with every stroke. Javier groans beneath him, then manages to mumble something about Joel being desperate, about how much he wanted this, but the words are broken, breathless. 

“Yeah?” Joel growls, picking up the pace, his movements growing rougher, harder. “That’s what you think?” 

Javier’s body jerks with each powerful thrust, breath coming in short bursts. “I know it,” he rasps, his grip on the desk tightening as Joel relentlessly continues. Slamming into him harder now, control beginning to slip. 

“You talk too much,” Joel decides, pounding harshly into Javier, reveling in the sweet clench as his pelvis meets Javier’s ass. He’s entranced by the sensation, the skin-to-skin contact, the heat, sweat, and musk. 

Joel feels reckless. Intoxicated with the rush of adrenaline and dopamine. Chasing an escape and taking it out on Javier. He is distantly aware that Javier has stopped with his taunting. The only sound either of them makes are low groans and throaty grunts as he pounds into the man beneath him. 

So absorbed with the immorality and the thrill he’s blind to the rest of the world and the rest of the room. 

Until the door opens. 

Joel freezes, his heart dropping into his stomach. 

It’s you. 

You shut the door, locking it, before turning back to face both men. Joel’s mind goes blank. His body is still pressed against Javier, his hands still grip his hips, his body flush against his. 

For a split second, he thinks he can pull away and cover up the situation somehow, but there is nothing that can explain this away. No excuse. No cover story. His body runs cold, at a loss for words, mouth agape. 

Then he sees the look on your face. 

You stand still, like a prey animal caught in the line of sight of two apex predators. You can see the fear in Joel’s eyes, and your heart lurches, aching to comfort him. But the rest of the scene has you stopped in your tracks. 

Joel sees your eyes widen; your breath is shallow, but there’s no shock. No confusion or hurt. Just a raw, undeniable hunger. You aren’t prey. 

You stand, taking in the sight of Joel fucking Javier into his desk, and your lips part in a small, breathless sigh. 

Javier turns to take you in, noticing the shift in the room, but he doesn’t pull away either. He is glowing, flashing his teeth with a wicked smile. The locks of hair on his forehead are damp with sweat, and his chest heaves as he remains braced atop the desk across from you. 

“Look who’s here to watch. Her own private show.” 

Joel swallows hard, still buried deep inside of Javier, his heart races. Adrenaline and arousal tangle together in a haze that leaves him unsure and adrift. 

You step further into the room, your gaze never leaving Joel’s as you cross the room. Setting down the lunch you brought, you perch on the edge of the chair that sits in front of the desk. 

“Don’t stop,” you encourage. 

Joel still looks like he’s forgotten how to blink or breathe. 

“The deli had a long line, and I couldn’t get parking,” you trail off a little breathlessly, watching the confusion on your man’s face. 

Statuesque and still, Joel is dumbfounded that you’re talking about being late for lunch while he’s balls-deep in the man bent over his desk. Is this real life? He’s been plagued with dreams of Javier for the last two weeks, waking up hard and sweating. But they weren’t like this. None of them were like this. 

“Don’t stop,” you repeat, voice dropping, sultry and encouraging. But he’s still locked in a trance.

“Can’t perform for an audience this time?” Javier quips, and Joel can hear the eye roll in his tone. 

Joel swallows hard, his mind spinning. He doesn’t know what to make of this. How to handle the fact that you’re here, watching. But with the heat in your eyes and the lack of surprise, you seem so relaxed–no, you’re enjoying this. 

That does something to Joel. 

Something dangerous. 

The invitation in your eyes sets him off. 

“She said don’t stop,” Javier continues on, smirking playfully at you, pushing back against Joel. 

Slowly, Joel regains feeling in his body. His hold on Javier constricting, his breath steadying, “I won’t.” He starts to move again, indulging in the sensation as he slowly drags his cock almost all of the way out before burying himself deep with a harsh snap of his hips. The motion forces a gravelly moan out of Javier that makes your cheeks hot. 

Joel continues, unhurried, fixed on the expression on your face and the depravity of the situation. You have a sparkle in your eye that he’s familiar with. “You knew,” Joel states. You nod in affirmation, a grin spreading on your face. 

“I set it up,” you whisper. 

Your admission hangs in the air. The sex-filled, debacherously thick air. Joel's remaining hesitance dissipates as it all sinks in. Washing away the fear of being caught or ashamed. He can see the glow on your face, your eyes dark--blown out with lust, wetting your lips as you wait for more. He can ask questions later. 

For you. 

He tells himself, dismissing the last of the voices in the back of his mind. 

You can see the gears turning in Joel’s head before something settles in, and the dark look he gives you makes your body burn up. Joel grunts, and you nearly melt, knees weak at the eroticism. It’s a good thing you’re seated. 

Joel slams harder into Javier, giving in to the primal heat driving him forward. Every broken breath from Javier feeds Joel’s growing need. His intensity shoots straight to your core. Your cunt throbs between your legs. You settle back into the chair, savoring the fruits of your labor. 

Your eyes trail over both men. It’s better than you could’ve imagined. You only wish you’d been in the room last week. However, getting the details from Javier kept you aching all week, even with Joel’s newly acquired midnight oral fixation. 

You feel the hungry look on your face, gaze darkening as you marvel at the lewd scene. You don’t wait for Joel’s approval. Hand dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, slipping over the seam of your pussy, already needy and wet from the debased view of the two gorgeous men. 

“Oh, shit,” Javier’s eyes nearly roll back as he watches you, eyes flicking from your hand disappearing beneath your shorts and up to your face. 

Your lips part, arousal flooding your body at the dynamic between both men. You watch them in awe, like your very own porn starring your two favorite men. It’s indescribably hot to see you Joel so unraveled, his teeth clenched in a feral snarl as he continues. And to see Javier so blissed out beneath him. 

“Show me,” Joel’s plea sends a tingly thrill down your spine. You remove your hand from between your legs to show off the tips of your fingers, glistening from tracing your slick folds. The way both men are glued to your display gives you a different thrill, something powerful and bright that starts in your chest and flows through your body. “Show me everything, baby,” his gruff voice is irrefutable. 

You slip the shorts off, spreading your legs wide and parting yourself boldly to give your men their own private show. You trace your fingers from your entrance to your clit, drawing circles and seeking relief from the pulsing need that has you already feeling precariously close to the edge. 

Joel’s breath comes in harsh pants now, body slick with sweat. The desk rattles beneath them as he drives into Javier, losing himself in the rhythm, the heat, the friction, and in the sounds Javier makes–those desperate moans, ragged breaths, the way he was trembling beneath Joel, taking it all. 

And all the while, Joel’s gaze flicks back to you, watching the way your breath quickens, the way you touch yourself more urgently. Like a live wire had been lit between the three of you, charging the room with an intensity Joel had never felt before.

You’re spread out in front of both of them, a vision he’ll never forget. You freely let out soft whimpers and sweet whines that drive him wild. It all surges through Joel like a fever, threatening to consume him and driving him harder into Javier, who lets out a strangled moan. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you sound frustrated. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are like this–shit.” You watch them with rapt attention, your hand moving quickly between your legs as you touch yourself. Joel can hear the soft, slick sounds of your fingers working and can see the way your body shivers with the same need that builds inside both men. 

Your soft moans fill the room, blending with Javier’s broken gasps and Joel’s deep, gruff groans, creating a symphony of debased pleasure. 

“Let’s see,” Joel encourages you in a hoarse voice. You can feel all of the need radiating from both men, it’s salacious and empowering. Joel’s gaze stays on you as he pounds into Javier, watching as you arch your back slightly, fingers working faster. Your parted lips and breathless noises make Joel’s pulse pike. 

“I’m gonna come,” You can’t stop drawing out deep and bright waves of pleasure as your eyes dance in a flurry between Joel and Javier, taking in every detail. You can vaguely hear Joel’s praise as you work through the sensations. Panting shallowly, you’re fixed back on them as you start to relax. 

Joel’s cock throbs inside Javier as he watches you, and for a brief moment, his rhythm falters, overwhelmed by how much it was turning him on to see you like this, to know you were getting off watching him like this. 

Having caught on to Joel’s shift in focus, Javier lets out a choppy laugh. His own voice cracks with need. “She likes watching you fuck me,” he says, his words slurred with pleasure. “Look at her,” he begs in earnest. 

“Shut up,” Joel grits out. 

But Javier only laughs again, his voice still jagged. “Can’t blame her,” he continues, testing Joel’s patience. “Told you already, that sexy angry look you get–” 

Joel doesn’t let him finish. He slams forward, thrusting into him deep and hard. Cutting Javier’s words off with a loud, choked moan. “Talk too fuckin’ much,” Joel spits out roughly as he leans over, his chest pressing against Javier’s back. 

Joel catches the telltale hitch in Javier’s breath, the sharp, desperate moan that slipped from his lips as his need builds, coiling tight in his gut. He slides a hand over the curve of Javier’s ass, snaking around his hip, tracing over the curls at the base of his cock, and finally wrapping his fingers around his length. 

Javier’s entire body jolts, clenching tightly around Joel at the contact. Joel strokes Javier’s cock firmly, matching the rhythm of his own thrusting. He revels in the delicious sensation of Javier tensing beneath him, and his breath catches in his throat. 

The display of dominance and ego keeps you enthralled. Skin ablaze as you can barely keep up with the intensity of the two of them. You sink two fingers into your throbbing cunt, aching to feel filled and as wrecked as Javier seems. 

Javier’s body clenches tightly around Joel as he watches you come in front of them, for them, but Joel isn’t about to stop. “You,” Joel growls as he pulls Javier’s head back just enough to hear him better. “You’re next.” 

“Just–fuck,” Javier groans, hips pushing back to meet every thrust, practically vibrating under Joel, the usual cockiness faltering and replaced with something more intimate. “Don’t stop.” 

Grinning through clenched teeth, leaning forward, breath hot against Javier’s ear, Joel’s voice is velvety smooth, “I know.” 

“You gonna come for me?” Joel asks, his fist tightening as he jerks Javier’s cock, his other hand holding him steady by the hips. 

“Please,” you add, desperate to see them fall apart. 

“You–” Javier’s head drops forward, his voice a ragged gasp. He can’t finish the sentence as Joel slams forward, his hand moving faster and harder as he feels Javier’s cock pulsing in his grip. 

“Come on,” Joel taunts now, rough and demanding. “Do as you’re told for once, Javier, come for me.” 

And with a sharp gasp and cry, Javier’s body tenses, his cock jerking in Joel’s hand as he comes. The sheer intensity of his release is all too much. 

Javier slumps forward, panting and spent, Joel’s gaze shoots back to you. The sight of you–the way you are losing yourself in watching them–makes Joel’s entire body light up with a new intensity. 

You let out another soft groan, your gaze locked on Joel’s as you touch yourself, your fingers glossy with slick arousal. “Fuck, Joel,” you whisper. “Please.” 

His body reacts immediately to the sound of your voice, the sight of you so undone, and he knows he’s close. He can feel the way his cock throbs inside of Javier, the heat of his release building in his gut, tightening with every rough movement. But this. Having you here, watching pushes him to the edge in a way he hadn’t anticipated. 

Hips stuttering, Joel’s orgasm tears through him. Groaning deep within his chest, his body jerks forward as he comes inside of Javier. His fingers dig so hard into Javier’s hips that he knows he’s going to leave bruises. 

Javier shudders beneath him, panting, body spent, but still bracing himself against the desk as Joel rides out the last of his release, breath coming in harsh, uneven pants. He looks at you, and a grin spreads on his face. The wrung-out expression really does it for you. 

Your eyes are half-lidded, face hot with arousal, fingers desperately reaching for the sensitive spot inside your cunt that Joel reaches with ease. Both men’s dark eyes rake over your body, spurring you on. Writhing under your own hands and their heady expressions. 

“Goddamn,” Javier breathes raggedly, but his tone is laced with admiration as he watches you. It makes you glow. “So pretty like that.” You moan louder, body arching as you ride the edge of your release. 

“Such a good girl,” Joel says. “Come for us.” 

With a shattered breath, you come–moans filling the room as your core contacts in waves. Until you’re cursing and panting softly. Letting the praise flowing from Joel and Javier wash over you. You giggle softly, acknowledging you feel more cockdrunk than the two of them look despite only watching. 

You feel a warmth settling between the three of you. 

It makes your limbs feel loose and floaty as you smile lazily, watching both men tuck their softening cocks back into their jeans. You swell with pride. For your own luck, snagging two incredibly gorgeous men. And for successfully executing your plan. 

You know there’s more work to do. You catch the awkward pauses and shuffling, but you can only allow your heart to swell as Joel helps you to your feet as if your legs stopped working. A deep-seated contentment unfurls in your chest when his arms wrap around you. And when he releases you, watching as you pull Javier towards you, you remain hopeful. 

You’ve got more in mind for your two Texans. 

divider: @cyberangel-graphics

lomls:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

@94namkooksworld

@gothcsz

@thundermartini

@magneticecstasy

@witchofthedeepwoods

@txlady37

@oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff

@bitchesuntitled

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@tobethlehem

@amanitacowboy

@lotusbxtch

@qveerthe0ry

@ace-turned-confused

[vermithorn]

* DISSOLVE

pairing: cregan stark x targaryen!reader

summary: an unexpected visitor arrives at winterfell, cregan is surprised to say the least.

contains: 18+, fingering, p in v, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, biting(?) marking(?), masturbation, asks about consent all the way becasue thats cregan ok.

author's note: i was horny in class, you cant relate to my struggle as i wrote this. my comeback and its cregan because i dream about this man and i need him carnally... also pls forgive any mistakes yall know my first language its spanish so don't be mean and leave feedback if you liked it !! pls reblog !!! !!!!!!! also totally inspired by mi amor @fairysluna fic about targ!reader x cregan yall pls read it its GOD TIER. ok bye now pls enjoy !

Winterfell was.. nice.

Your dragon, The Bronze Fury, wasn't fond of the snowy wasteland you commanded him to fly on. He grumbled as he landed near the northern capital, clouds of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he let you dismount him carefully, as much as he hated the north, he couldn't be mad at his rider.

You petted Vemithor’s snout, his red eyes intently watching you and allowing it, because after all, you were his little human. “Obey, stay here.” Vermithor roared, complaining in his own way, you just laughed and waved him off as you made your way to the castle.

*

“Warden Stark, this is a matter of great urgency…” 

Cregan stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the request of the Umber patriarch, a much older man who was filled with jealousy because Cregan was the Warden of the North and he wasn't, always mentioning it to the great council that was held once a month in the northern capital.

“My lord,” Cregan sighed, “I do not have time for this right now, you had your time for requesting when we were six hours in the council meeting earlier today.”

Lord Umber was about to speak again, smoke coming out his ears but was interrupted by the door of the Great Hall opening, a servant of the castle stepping in and announcing loudly;

“Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Cregan’s head snapped towards the doors, taking in the sight of you entering the Great Hall.

You were bundled up in heavy clothing to protect against the cold weather, wearing a thick fur-lined cloak over a long (but tight?) black dress with red accents, with the three-headed dragon sigil embroidered on your chest.

“Lord Umber, return to this conversation later,” Lord Umber's grumbles could be heard as he walked out quickly after bowing to you, leaving the two of you alone in the Great Hall.

 As you walked towards Cregan, he could feel a blush starting on his cheeks. 

“My lady.”

Cregan noticed a glint of amusement in your eyes as you spoke, it was almost a purr.

“Lord Cregan,” You raised an eyebrow, smirking, “I am not your lady, I am your princess.”

Cregan’s face turned redder, looking down for a second as if ashamed. “You are right, my princess. I have never before seen the princess of the realm and I was momentarily taken aback, forgetting your station,” He gulped, “I ask for your forgiveness, your highness.”

You chuckled, delighted. “Do not worry, my lord, we all make mistakes.” 

He looked at you in awe, he never had seen a woman as beautiful as you, especially in this land of wolves. He felt like he was being pulled towards you as if he was a moth and you were the flame, taking steps towards you.

“Nice meeting you, Warden Stark.” You could tell he was nervous, hiding his shaky hands behind his back, standing straight.

He nodded, almost a bow, “What’s the Princess of Dragonstone doing in Winterfell if I may ask? It is rare to see a noble of the south in this frozen land, even rarer the Crown’s Princess.” 

You chuckled softly, and Cregan couldn't feel more attracted to you now as he continued, “Is this an official visit? or did you just wake up with a desire to see my homeland?”

“A little of both,” Cregan raised an eyebrow at you, “I came on dragon back,”

He looks at you with a mix of awe and fear. Dragons have not been seen in the North for a long time, so the mere mention of one is enough to make him worry slightly. “Did you fly all the way here alone, princess? Or is there an entourage of guards, servants, and courtiers that I need to prepare for? I would not presume to let you see one of the great houses of the North without a proper welcoming, even if you are visiting unannounced.”

This made you giggle, and Cregan’s face kept getting warmer with each second passing. “I am alone, my lord.”

Cregan bowed, trying to hide his warm cheeks and of course, showing respect for your station and your valor for traveling alone in the frozen wastes of the North. 

He straightened his back and looked into your lilac eyes, breathing softly trying to not get lost in them, “What would you wish to do here, my princess? I could arrange a meal, or a bath to warm up from the freezing weather? Or maybe you would like to talk?”

“A bath would be nice, my lord.” You gave him a wolfish grin, looking him up and down and making him gulp at the sight.

“I will have one prepared for you immediately.” Cregan walked towards the doors, calling a servant to get your bath ready as soon as possible in the guest chambers near his own, he turned around to talk to you but found you were walking around the room, intently watching the tapestries and paintings.

He watched you do this for a few minutes until a servant came back to inform him the bath was ready in the guest chambers, he came out of his trance watching you.

“My princess, the bath is ready for you,” You turned around grinning mischievously, “Is there anything else that I can do for you now? Anything at all?”

Cregan would learn a few seconds later that his words would turn against him.

“Perhaps you could join me?”

A wave of crimson washed over Cregan’s face, and you could see how your words were making sense in his head. What were you trying on him? Was the offer even real or just teasing on your part? He watched you with his jaw slightly dropped trying to think of a proper answer for you, the temptation was certainly great… to see a princess like that, to see you all bare, he could feel himself getting harder at the thought of your naked body, but… what will others think? You came to Winterfell alone, what could happen if others find out he was in your chambers all alone? The temptation was too great to resist it.

“Is this something you truly want, your highness?” Cregan swallowed, taking another step toward you, “Or am I being an object of teasing?”

You grinned widely, taking a step to meet him halfway putting a hand on his wide chest, “My lord, you know how stunning you are?”

Cregan couldn't spit the words out, too occupied focusing on the hand on his chest.

“I am very thankful for your hospitality, my lord,” His gaze fell into your wolfish grin and intense stare, “So I am extending an invitation of my own if you want it.”

*

Cregan found himself in your chambers, mad at himself for his weak resolve against the Targaryen temptress. 

But all those feelings went away the moment you locked the door after entering the room behind him. 

The bathtub in the middle of the room was big enough for two people, that was out of the question and Cregan wondered if the servants did this on purpose. You walked towards the bed near the fireplace, taking your fur cloak off and leaving it carefully on the mattress.

“Is this room to your liking, my princess?” Cregan said, watching you subtly.

“It is,” You nodded, slowly untying your dress, “Could you help me, my lord?” You turned around, watching him over your shoulder with a playful smile. “This dress is hard to take off on my own.”

Of fucking course.

Cregan made his way over you, his rough hands carefully untying the complicated part of your dress on your back. You could feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blade, now exposed to the warm air of the room thanks to the fireplace. “I can never take this off without my lady-in-waiting’s help.” You giggled, still watching him over your shoulder.

Cregan shook his head, amused by the fact you were gonna need help to take this off in any case, thankful it was him this time. He waited for you to move first, removing his hands gently.

He took a step backward, “You may undress as you wish, my princess. It would be rude of me to stare while you are getting in and out of the tub.” You turned around to face him, your dress falling off your shoulders as he spoke, “I will keep my eyes lowered.”

Cregan’s gaze fell to the ground, his hands again behind his back, anxiously playing with his thumb.

“My lord.” You purred, “I don’t mind, you can look if you wish.”

He splutters, his gaze still glued down to the floor, shocked by your words but his traitorous eyes wander back to your figure, he gasps when he sees how your dress is no longer on your shoulders, now hanging low on your waist and your chest bare.

“M-my princess… this is not appropriate…” He exhales shakily, his eyes glued to your chest not able to look away now.

You roll your eyes, chuckling softly, “I don’t mind, my lord, I am not ashamed of my body.”

Cregan’s jaw drops, your words sending shivers to his spine, and his uniform pants getting tighter. You have the confidence of a queen and beauty to match it.

“Then allow me,” He takes a look up and down at your form as you continue to remove your garments. 

“Like what you see, pup?” 

Your words make Cregan freeze on his spot near the bathtub, his eyes roaming crazily over your body, now fully bare to him. You walk towards him, stepping slowly on the hot water until it’s reaching your thighs.

“Words cannot describe what I’m feeling, your highness.” He exhales shakily, “I am merely a northern wolf awed by a dragon’s beauty and power.”

You chuckle, sitting down on the tub, the water reaching your breasts, “You flatter me, pup.”

He looks at you stunned, you seem unbothered by the scalding hot water as you sit looking at him expectantly. He has no words to describe what’s going on inside his head, the Crown’s Princess is bathing in front of the Warden of the North as if there were no one else in the world, he's only able to stare at you in awe, his eyes shining with a glint of lust.

He stumbles on his next words, “W-what should I do now, your highness?”

“Join me.” 

He only can nod and starts to remove his clothes immediately, showing no humility or shame at being naked in front of the princess, your confident self giving him confidence.

He realizes what he's about to do, “You’re not offended by my nakedness?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, amused, “Why would I be offended? You’re beautiful.”

Men are rarely complimented by their beauty, something Cregan doesn't experience as much, and you can tell this by the way his face lits up and blushes hard, turning away from your amused gaze and feeling slightly bashful.

He takes a deep breath and steps into the bathtub, the water is almost too hot for his liking but he seats behind you without any complaints. He is facing your back and he has to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“Shall I wash you, my princess? Or shall I merely enjoy the view?” The moments those words left his mouth his face was plagued by a crimson blush, not believing that he could mutter that out loud.

He heard you chuckle, turning your head to the side but not all the way so he could appreciate your side profile as you spoke, “Whatever you want,” 

He scooted closer to you, keeping all his lower body and his not-that-hard (a lie) cock away from your ass. Still half in disbelief, the princess herself telling him to do whatever he wanted? He was an ambitious man, but started on the base of his wants, not wanting to scare you off. He reach out and ran his hands through your white hair, slowly washing it and once in a while touching your neck.

Your skin felt impossibly soft in his rough palms, and your scent was enough to send him far far away. He felt his heart racing, threatening with escaping his rib cage, he couldn’t believe you were there in front of him, a Targaryen princess, naked and inviting.

As he softly caresses your neck, you throw your head back enjoying the feeling of him touching your skin. His hands softly untangle your wet hair, and it surprises him when you let out a low moan when he accidentally pulled your hair.

“Oh,” Cregan could feel the heat rising to his face, and of course, his cock twitching.

Being this close to you was making him lose all his composure, but he did his best as his hands traveled to your shoulders from your hair, massaging them gently as you nudged back, encouraging him to continue.

“Shall… shall I move further down, my princess?” 

He could physically feel your laugh against his hands, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Yes.”

His hands moved along your shoulders, past your neck, and down to your upper back softly touching and caressing the path downwards your back. He can hear you sigh quietly, his hands coming back to your shoulder blades and slowly moving to your sides, just below your arms, both of his index fingers just barely brushing your breasts.

He stops, his hands still. “May I, your highness? I would never want to do something without your consent.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him from the corner of your eye. “Go on, pup.”

His hands reach your chest, and he scoots closer, his (now) hard cock a few inches away from your ass. He warily cups your breasts, squeezing them gently as his fingers pinch your nipples, making them pebble.

You let out a whimper, shivering at the touch of his rough and big hands on your tits.

“Does this... please you, your highness? My hands on your perfect skin?” He cannot stop himself now, words spilling out his mouth as they didn’t before, his hands wandering around and playing with your chest.

“Yes, you’re doing such a good job, pup.” He blushes deeply but doesn't stop.

He’s still in disbelief, not entirely believing the situation happening in front of his eyes. The princess of Dragonstone telling him how good he's being for her? It is too much to comprehend, you’re so above him in any situation, but there you are, praising and wanting him to touch you.

“You want me to continue, my princess?” 

You nod, “Go further,”

His heart starts to pound harder in his chest, like a war drum, but he continues to do as you say. One hand stays playing with your breast, stroking your nipple, and the other travels downwards through your belly.

“Like this?” He whispers in your ear, and you can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck.

You surprise him again by scooting back, your ass against his hardened length, he gasps, the plump of your ass touching his cock making him lose his vision for a second, not expecting it at all.

“Just like that,” Your words send chills down his spine, is he really about to do this with a princess? Is he really worthy of that? He swallows deeply, his mouth now dry, but his mind is made up. He wants you, and if you’re allowing him to do this, he won't complain at all.

“As you wish, my princess. How far would you like me to continue?” 

“As far as you wish, pup.”

Your words leave him breathless, but he obliges. 

Cregan’s hand on your belly travels further down, carefully to not overstep your boundaries but decided to resume his wandering on your body as his cock presses against your ass. His eyes are glued to the back of your neck, his touch is hesitant at first but your permission makes him feel bold, so he presses his one hand down further and the other squeezes your breast.

“Go on, pup,” You whisper, leaning your head back and resting it on his shoulder as his mouth grazes your neck towards your throat, breathing heavily, “You know what to do.”

He chuckles, but it comes out as a shaky breath. He knows exactly what to do.

His fingers slowly make their way down to your cunt, two digits slowly reaching your clit hovering over it, and moving down to your folds, feeling how you shiver.

You exhale shakily, leaning even more against his body, “Please.”

Cregan’s resolve breaks, blushing as he continues his ministrations, teasing your clit with his palm and fingers grazing your folds, rubbing them. 

He’s so immersed in his teasing he doesn't notice when your soft hand grabs his, pushing it down towards your pussy hard. “I don’t like being teased, do your work.”

Your words drive him into a frenzy, immediately obeying and pushing two fingers into your cunt, hearing you moan. His hand on your breast leaves to support what the other one is doing, moving his fingers in a circular motion on your clit as the other fingers you.

You throw your head back into his shoulder harshly, groaning. “Don’t stop, pup.”

Cregan grinds himself against your ass as he thrusts into you, fingers deep into your pussy. Your breath starts to get labored and your shoulders begin to shake, he starts going faster, more vigorously as he hears your little whimpers with his name mixed into your chants.

“You’re doing so good for me, pup,” He grins proudly, his cock twitching at the breathy praise that falls from your lips, grinding harder against your ass.

Cregan makes you reach your peak after he pinches your clit and his long rough fingers thrust into you, shaking slightly as he holds you in place.

He’s still rock hard against your ass, and after a few moments to come back to yourself, you turn around to face him, your tits against his chest as you straddle his lap, not caring at all how the water splashes outside the tub.

Cregan’s cock is a sight, long and with a thickness it makes your mouth water. He watches you as you move around him until you grab his shaft making his dick brush your folds as you accommodate, the tip teasing on your hole.

“I want you, do you want me?”

He thinks that’s the dumbest question he's ever heard in his twenty-one years of life.

“Hell yes, my princess.”

You give him a wolfish grin as you sink into his length mercilessly in one go, your tight hole wrapping his cock in a warm embrace he can only answer by groaning loudly, his hands flying to your hips to help you steady yourself.

“You’re so tight, seven hells… my goddess, you’re so beautiful.” Your mouth parted at the sensation of his cock splitting you in two, combined with his praise, it’s enough encouragement to start riding him, water splashing everywhere.

His voice starts coming out as incoherences, between praises and swearing on how tight you are, and how your cunt was made for him, his mouth latching at your breast biting it and marking the sides when he can no longer say coherent words. You ride him hard and roughly, so it’s not a surprise when he spills inside your pussy and you follow him behind quickly with a second orgasm when he moves his hand down to rub your clit.

He hugs you as you both breathe heavily, trying to compose yourselves.

Your hand reaches his face, cupping his cheek as he looks into your lilac eyes like a puppy.

“You did so well, you’re not getting rid of me now.”

He beams at the praise, hugging you tightly, pressing your body against his with him still inside you, getting softer. “It is my pleasure to please you, my princess.”

vermithorn © do not copy, repost or translate my works

[to0thach3]

glowing, pt. 4

pt. 1,��  pt, 2,   pt. 3,   p. 4,   pt. 5,   pt. 6,   pt. 7

Dinners, at the palace or not, were awkward.

They were always a little bit strange, with the odd mix of people that attended them, and maybe the unspoken feelings had always left an uncomfortable aura.

But the meals that followed Portia's visit to her brother were nearly unbearable, for anyone. Muriel had gotten so tense that he'd left the table, even the building, on multiple occasions. The five people that remained, all characteristically chatty, fell dead silent, and it wasn't unusual for the only noise to be that of silverware against plates.

Asra frequently tried to start up a conversation, asking Nadia about the rebuilding of the Flooded District, or tapping the table in front of Julian to get his attention.

Sometimes it worked, and the uncomfortable atmosphere relented for a minute or two, and sometimes someone would even laugh. But then Julian would lock eyes with MC, or Portia with Julian, and things would fade back.

One night, 2 weeks after that day at Julian's house (5 weeks into the disease, a nagging voice told him), the silence at the magic shop's dinner table had gotten a bit too stifling, and Nadia broke it by asking MC about how the wedding planning had been going. MC blinked quickly, reaching blindly for Asra's hands, which cradled hers gently. Her eyes darted to Julian, and he almost thought he saw guilt within them.

"It's going well," she began after clearing her throat. "Asra's sent a letter to his parents, so they should be arriving in a few weeks. I don't have anyone to invite, so it'll be pretty small. You all, Muriel, Mazelinka. You're welcome to invite your sisters, Nadi. Fill up the empty seats." She gave a strangled little laugh. "I can count on all of you being there, right?" Her eyes flickered to Julian once more.

"Of course," Nadia said airily. "And my sisters adore you, I'm sure they would be happy to come. As would Lucio, but that's completely your choice."

MC nodded slowly. "We'll talk about it. Julian? You'll be there? Just as a guest, I mean." The eye contact was painfully intense, and Julian nearly shrunk under it. He was at a loss for words, until Portia elbowed him roughly. "Yes," he sputtered. "Of course. I'll be there." He paused, mind moving a thousand miles an hour to make the quick decision. "Right beside you, if you'd still let me stand with you."

MC looked at him blankly. Julian watched as Asra stroked her hand lightly with his thumb, and fought to keep down a bout of coughs and the flowers that would no doubt accompany it. "Thank you, Julian," MC said softly. "I'd love that."

Asra gave Julian a lazy, grateful smile, and Julian felt his heart jump, though he had no idea why. "It's getting late," Asra said with a glance toward the west window. "You're all welcome to stay, but I need to get up early to visit Muriel." He stood fluidly, leaning down to press a kiss against MC's temple. "I'll see you when you come to bed, love," he whispered. Not quiet enough, and the vines around Julian's lungs clamped tighter. The surge of jealousy that ripped through him was overwhelming and terrible, and he covered his mouth with his arm and a cough ripped through him.

"Whoever leaves last, be sure you lock up!" Asra called over his shoulder as he headed upstairs with one last wave.

A few more coughs rattled through Julian's chest, and he felt Portia's hand lightly pat him on the back, and MC looked at him with concern. "Are you okay, Jules?"

Julian nodded in lieu of an answer, looking down at his arm and quickly scooping up the petals that had fallen onto his leather sleeve, tucking them into his pocket. Portia watched him carefully, trading a glance with him before speaking up. "He's getting over an illness. We're not quite sure what, but he's had a nasty cough. That's why he missed a few dinners over the last couple of weeks." Her words were clear and believable, but Julian heard the tension and anxiety behind them, and he frowned.

MC's eyebrows furrowed, worry lines appearing. "That's awful. Any other symptoms? The air's been getting drier, that can't be easy."

"Some of the groundskeepers are out sick as well," Nadia chimed in. "There might be something going around."

"I'm alright. Just a cough, probably just a cold." Julian stood, maneuvering his long legs out from under the table. "I should be going. Goodnight, ladies."

He headed briskly to the door, but MC was right behind him. "Jules!" she called gently as she caught up with him at the entryway. "I'm sorry, about what happened at the palace. I had no idea you weren't feeling well, and springing that on you must have caught you off-guard." She stared at him with wide eyes. "And it means the world to me that you'll stand with me at the wedding. So... I'm sorry, and thank you. Oh!" She reached around him to open the door, gesturing for him to step ahead of her. They both walked a few steps into the street, and MC linked her arm with Julian's. This wasn't strange. She usually insisted on walking him to Goldgrave after dinner, as though he needed protection.

"I wanted to ask if you'd spend the day with me tomorrow." MC grabbed onto his arm with her free hand, fingers playing idly with the metal snaps. "Asra will be in the forest all day, and Nadia has some kind of taste test for the wedding."

Julian looked down at her curiously. "Shouldn't you be there for that? Since it's your wedding?"

MC shrugged. "I trust Nadia's judgement, and it sounds like it'll be tedious. So, I'd like to spend the day with you. We can go to the Red District, or the Theatre, or the Market. We could spend the day at the cottage. Whatever you want."

Julian rolled his shoulders, and MC let go of his arm. "I've missed you," he said gently. "But I don't think it's a good idea for us to spend time alone together."

"Oh."

The word carried through the narrow streets, and the echo rang in Julian's ears.

"I'm sorry. I just thought... I thought we were okay now? I'm sorry. Asra said that things would be okay if I apologized. I just want- I want things to be okay, Julian. Why are we not okay?"

"'Asra said'?" Julian stepped back. "You apologized because Asra told you to?"

Head tilted, MC looked up at the doctor. "Yeah. He thought it was the best way to resolve this. Are you angry with me?"

"Oh, I'm sure Asra would have an answer to that."

She crossed her arms over her chest and scoffed. "So you're mad that I asked my fiancé for advice? What's going on, Jules? Why do you suddenly have an issue with me and Asra's relationship?"

"Suddenly? You think the two people I've loved in my life can get engaged, and that my issue with it is sudden?" Julian flayed his arms out in frustration, and locked eyes with a stunned MC.

"Jules..."

"Don't-" He scuttled back a few more steps. "Don't call me that. Ask Portia or Nadia if they'll stand with you, because I can't do it. I'm sorry." He turned and rushed down the street toward Goldgrave, leaving MC in the dust as her tears started to fall.

[auclamenza]

Burn my soul

Pairing- vampire bts member× yn

Warnings- mention of sexual abuse, death, obsession, lot of angst

Pls forgive if I did any mistakes!

**********************************************

You saw yet another shooting star last night. Your grandma said wishing something upon seeing them makes the wish come true yet you don't see his approaching figure. She said that the  your small town holds many secrets while braiding your hair which you dismissed as folktale as a child. But now you pray for her words to come true more than anything else.

But no matter how long you look at ice caped shiny mountains they don't budge and tell you the secret they are hiding. No matter how much you look at the birds chirping they don't tell you whose sound they muffle by their singing. No matter how closely you listen to the blowing of wind they don't tell you who are they blowing away from.

It would have been better if you are not stuck in the whirlwind of your thoughts. You wanted to go back to your previous life where you going to work and taking care of your sick father filled your daily routine . But destiny had different plans. You have tried so much to forget about that day but your soul flourishes in his memory.

You feel it in your heart and your entire being. The way his aura swallow your existence in your dream till the point your body struggles to breathe and you wake up drenched in sweat. You remember hearing his voice in your dream which set every nerve of yours on fire. You remember the tug of string which seemed to connects your hearts when you were about to finally see the face of your savior in your dream.

Sometimes you can feel his presence. you suspect if a  pair of eyes watch your every move. You suspect if someone follows you from work.You suspect if someone accidentally left your favorite snowdrops on your doorstep when it was meant for somebody else.You suspect if someone whispered something in the ears of the wild dog when it was ready to prance at you when you were returning from forest late at night.

Though you vaguely remember seeing his silhouette before going unconscious, you knew he had heard your cry of help. He had sensed the danger that had befallen upon you when in an instant your senior turned into an assaulter ready to take advantage of your naive trust. You didn't expect your senior manager to physically assault you beside the river bed after you denying  his manipulative coaxing and inappropriate touches. You couldn't believe the vile words his tongue produced which once had complemented you.  It was then you couldn't fight his strong arms and his forceful lips on your neck and cleavage that you mustered all your energy and shouted for help. It was not before he laid you on ground with the help of his heavy figure preparing to take you raw while having his knee between your naked thighs you heard something coming towards both of you. It was then the bone chilling storm began to blew and  your eardrum hurt  by the animalistic roar that cracked the thin layer of blue ice covering the river.Your assaulted scurried away from you as the speed of the blowing wind only increased. Your barely opened eyes recognized a silhouette piercing through  the icy strom. Suddenly you felt rib crushing ache in your chest as you soul struggled to become free and then the last thing you remembered seeing his shiny red eyes before going into days of slumber.

As you told your experience to the concerned officials while laying on hospital bed you only saw their dismissive looks.  They shut you down as they shut others down who say having  encountered a canine human by the icy river. All the stories fall on deaf ears when they say some mythical creature saved their lives. The things you saw were termed as hallucinations.  But all those voices were not capable to answer how  the body of your accused  is nowhere to be found.

You don't why he denies coming to see you again no matter how many times you visit the place of your first encounter.  Every dawn you find yourself sitting by the river  hoping that maybe the  place is frequently visited by him.  You yearn to just take a glimpse of his silhouette again.  He never answers your endless pleas of saving your soul from the suffering of being away from him. Yet your legs walk you to river Bank believing that  one day you will hear his heavy breath along with flowing of river water.

Your teary eyes don't convey the emptiness you feel in your chest as you stare at the mountains now outside of your window guarded by long conifers. But false to your belief a pair of ruby eyes stare at you longingly from the forest as they water from guilt. His heart throbs when he remembers your soft hands slipping from his leading you to fall in the mouth of death a century ago. The longing you feel is better than again getting tangled in the black webs of his heart.  In his mind this was the only way to protect you even if it meant slicing your heart a little..

*************************************************

[ayamturd]

yourself│awesamdude

summary: love is precious, love is pure; how insecure thoughts and concerns trouble a scared lover, and how to convince one they are deserving of said love

warnings: descriptive insecure + self-deprecating thoughts, slight angst to fluff

pairing: in-game c!awesamdude

a/n: couldn’t stop thinking of this concept, i wouldn’t physically sleep till i wrote it all out lol

pls know you are loved, that you matter and are important. even if it doesn’t feel like, i’ll say now that i do, i love you. i don’t need to know you to know you deserve love, you deserve to know you are amazing for being yourself and for simply trying your best by existing for what it is <3

wc: (2.1k) - m.list

“Why do you love me?”

It was late. Very late. 

The sky was pitch black and the forest held nothing but a ringing silence to screen, the brief sounds of woodland creatures along with lurking monsters occasionally breaking through. While the night was alive by the stir of the wind, the world above was obscured beneath the depths of the newly discovered mineshaft.

You were tired, your body aching and sore from the continuous grind along side your lover for the past few hours now. Unbeknownst to you, the early morn had been replaced with the midnight sky, the twists of the cave’s darkness becoming so lost to your sensitive eyes. 

While you were resting on a large boulder, Sam’s stamina was relentless as he worked to mine into the next cave tunnel. He was beautiful, to say the least. 

The ever so flicker of nearby torches illuminated only the best of his features, his usual mask hanging low around his neck due to the cramped and tight spaces underground. His brows were furrowed, the gentle concentration that pulled onto his face strangely handsome to observe. 

His hair, the dark yet notable green shade, was seemingly drenched with sweat. In spite of how dreadful the thought could come across, it only did him wonders when weighing his locks down to frame his face. It curled around his eyes, the sage emerald-color contrasting his light skin tone while emphasizing the dark glisten of his squinted eyes. 

Through his intent and determined grunts with every swing of his blade against the course stone, his stance was firm and strong, each strike crumbling beneath him from pure strength and integrity. 

Moments like these were random, but reoccurring. Moments where you could stop to stare at him for hours on end, appreciate him for what he was and all that he did, yet question on why he was still here.

Why someone so talented and earnest in his work could even consider you as someone special, someone worth his attention and love to be with. 

You spoke before you could stop to process your words and what possible answer he could imagine. Your curiosity got the better of you, and your insecurity blinded your perception. It didn’t seem like he heard you initially, and as you began to take it as a sign to forget the question entirely, his diligent swings stopped and his heavy panting filled the air. 

He carelessly rested the large tool on top of his shoulders, twisting only his head in your direction while wiping the salty sting of raining sweat from his eyes. 

“Huh?”

“Why do you love me?” you asked again. 

Pushing yourself up, you glanced down while fiddling with your pickaxe, the old wrap around its handle fraying ever so lightly despite its lack of consistent use. You’d need to replace it soon. 

“I just- it’s hard sometimes, you know? To think why you’ve stayed with me for so long or why you even want to stay with me altogether.”

You suddenly lost all courage, and couldn’t dare look him straight in the eye from your admittance. There was an unfounded trust your relationship, no doubt, but trust can only go far when comparing yourself to others. This was a question of worth, of importance when believing one has nothing special to give to someone who deserves the world. 

“Love…”

Shaking your head, you turned away from him to face the arching gem wall, driving your pickaxe into the thick, shimmering stone with a slam before wrapping your arms around yourself. You bit the inner side of your check, loose and anxious thoughts raging wild to come through in the vulnerable space.

Your hands shook in unpredictable expectations, fingers twitching against your pounding chest.

“I know you’re going to dismiss it as some kind of nonsense, ‘insecurity’ thing and honestly, you wouldn’t be wrong. But I can’t help it when you’re you and I’m me.”

The pause that followed was unbearable. Steady breathes pervaded the tense air, and after what felt to be an entirety in harsh, prolonged silence, you heard the shuffles of his feet when cautiously approaching you from behind.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone was serious, yet his voice soft. Like he was cornering a scared and injured animal, he seemed mindful of his volume for your own concern. Another quality to consider: he was too kind than for what you rightfully earned.

There was so much to say, yet so little at the same time. You were at a loss for words on how to explain something so broad and conceptually troubling to see through. How does one explain how little they matter? How meaningless they are in the grand scheme of things to someone that only tries to see the best of them.

Someone that would refuse a truth for the sake of your troubled mentality.

“Well- you know…”

He stood directly behind you now, his radiating warmth encompassing your entire being, leaving you to shudder from the sharp contrast in the freezing underground. Hands hovering your rigid shoulders, he contemplated touching you but decided against it. He dropped his arms to his side with a sigh. 

“No, I don’t. What possible reasoning could you have for me not to love you?”

His pleading whisper was left unanswered, your body frozen to the guilt that consumed you from worrying him over your own problematic assumptions. As if he could read you, he began a different approach to break through to you. 

“Why do you love me?”

His unexpected question immediately caused you to go in defense. Spinning around, you glared up at him with resistant eyes, the response to trade your unsure gaze with ones that screamed in flipped concern for his own good. 

“Don’t do that.”

Sam’s own eyes remained just as hard, the unnatural line from his neutral expression pulling further to create an evident frown. He was just as serious as you.

“I’m serious here. What reasoning do you have to love me? A screw up, that does nothing but hurt others no matter how much I try in opposition to protect.”

Admittedly shaking your head, you unconsciously reached to grab the front of his chest plate, the enchanted armor glowing beneath your bare hands as you forcefully pushed him in disagreement. 

You knew what he was referencing to, and how hard the events became for him. No matter if Tommy would never forgive him, he had yet to forgive himself in any reasonable sense. 

“You know that’s not true. Mistakes are mistakes that can’t always be avoided or your fault.”

Tilting his head, Sam’s nose scrunched aggressively to your argument with a scowl.

“Can’t it?” 

While your face dropped from his jarring snap, he only sighed before bowing his head away, rubbing the back of his head with a tired exhale and dropped shoulders. It was his turn to struggle with his own words as you stared intensely for his explanation. 

His voice were soft again, and wavered slightly in the near beginning. 

“I’m not perfect, far from it actually. No matter how many times you try and reassure me of the fact, I’ll never truly believe anything there is good to say about me. I only see the worst of myself,” he murmured. Although a majority of his speech could have easily been missed from his airy quiet, your ears were strained and focused solely on him. 

As you tried to step closer to comfort him in some way or another, he finished his final thought then, causing you to freeze once more. 

“And when that negatively becomes too much, I look to you as my light.”

Sam sheepishly faced you, his bashful grin completely deviating from the conversation at hand.  An unexpected heat rushed to your face, causing you fall apart by the mere power behind his words. 

He gave an airy chuckle, closing his eyes with a gentle smile and opening to reveal such fragility in all he had to tell, eyes watering from the sight of you. 

“You give me more hope than I think I could ever deserve. From your shining smile to the smallest forms of affection, you give me a love irreplaceable by others and unconceivable to consider.” 

Biting your lip, your eyes also began to tear from the overly tender conceptions. He knew better than to let your thoughts run wild and interrupt him, so he continued before you could open your mouth in protest.

“I love you, for everything you’ve sacrificed and lost. You are my strength that pulls me through, inspires me to continue even on the hardest of days. You teach me to forgive myself and work through my hardships for a greater objective at play.” 

Steadily nearing your emotional state, Sam carefully pulled your hands into his own and caressed your knuckles with his callous thumbs. He squeezed them tightly once, before reaching a singular hand against your cheek, catching the fallen tears that escaped your adoring eyes.

“Even if you unintentionally did, you became that objective to pull me through it all.”

A sob escaped you, and Sam was quick to pull you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head earnestly while resuming to whisper his declaration against your hair.  

“I love you and all that you do. Everything that I said now, everything that I know how to express, it does nothing to how much you truly impact by merely existing as yourself.”

“Sam-” you had tried to interject, stop him from tearing you to complete bits as an over sentimental puddle, but he chose to speak over you instead. 

“I don’t love you simply because you’ve given so much to me, that you’ve went through notions with my sake as priority. I don’t care for any of that in all honesty. I love you, because you do all that you do as yourself.”

Shudder breathes caused you to shake beneath his firm hold, his only response to pull you inhumanely closer if possible. 

“It doesn’t matter why or what pushes you to do what you do, it’s the fact that you exist as yourself, that that beautiful heart of yours goes beyond any and all expectations anyone can conceive of you and never fails to the most of any situation to come.”

“You amaze me, y/n,” he hummed. Pulling you back, he raised a single finger below your chin to lift your face to his. He leaned a near breathes away, with an indescribable admiration that caused more tears to spill. 

“Why do I love you?” he re-asked.

His own tears coursed down his dirt stained skin, and you habitually moved to cup both of his cheeks. 

“Because you’re able to love me, and not even know the adverse effects you cause to those around you.”

Bringing your forehead to his, he kissed your scrunched nose as he released a small whimper, for he had nothing left to express through words. 

“If ever you question yourself again, ask yourself how are you able to love someone like me, and know that that same confounding thought shakes my very core and beats my love-stricken heart for you.”

Bonus:

Pathetic giggles bounced around the gem filled enclosure, the high of work finally wearing you both down into a helpless mess of two exhausted, yet stubborn lovers. 

You leaned heavily into Sam’s hold, his own stance faltering from the unexpected weight you gave in as he groaned from the fast movement. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready for some rest, wouldn’t you say?” 

Giving out incomprehensible whines smothered into the crook of his arm, you raised a lazy hand to give a subtle thumbs up. Sam laughed loudly, and took your silent gesture as an answer. 

“You ready to climb back to the surface then?”

Mellow wails spoke for themselves, and he shook his head in joking disbelief to how drained you easily became. 

With you still in his arms, he maneuvered around you to grab both of your pickaxes and gathered resources, them too heavy to physically carry for his next course of action. He pulled out his Enderchest and swiftly packed everything away. 

Once everything else was settled, he worked on the actual situation in hand; literally, it being you basically asleep on your feet against his balanced arms. 

“Here,” he spoke. Lifting from your waist, he placed you on top of an overgrown gem stone and steadied your footing before quickly turning. He gripped your thighs, and even in your tired state, you instinctively jumped onto his back. 

He sighed when adjusting you, before making the trek back up the stair incline.

“To think I choose to love you.” 

You yawned loudly, and to his surprise, comprehended his words enough to respond.

“Mmmm, that sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” Head propped between his neck, he glanced down at you with a smirk. 

“Maybe, but a problem I welcome nonetheless.”

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23​ for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it. 

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues.  Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place. 

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back.   A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

                                                     ~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove​, @geeksareunique​, @cailoleaf​, @simonsbluee​ , @hereforsmutandfluff​, @starxtt​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @staygold-bebold​, @marvelschriss​, @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

[shysneeze]

missed smiles (draco malfoy x reader)

missed smiles (draco malfoy x fem!reader)

request: could you do a Draco imagine where the reader gets injured somehow (like falls down the stairs) after a fight (angst) and then he gets all protective (fluff)? tysm!

Warnings: kind hints towards depression but it’s minor.  half blood prince level draco angst because I'm in one of those moods mentions of war,  family pressures etc, fighting and injury. 

Authors note: I skimped so hard on the fluff this is basically just angst pls forgive me. 

..

The late November snow crunches aggressively underfoot as (Y/N) storms back towards the castle, Draco's footsteps echoing her own not far behind her as he calls after her. She lets out a harsh breath, not daring to look back in case her anger slips into something else and the tightness in her throat gives way to the sob she's been holding back.

"(Y/N), please." He pleads. "Let me explain."

She comes to a stop, breath shaking as it leaves her lips and forming wispy streams of condensation as it meets the cool air. She knows she needs to turn around, but she can't look at him right now, she can't look at him without seeing it again on his arm, the inky mark of the wizarding world's dark past and looming future.

It was revealed after what was a perfect date. She was so happy to see him smiling, that grin that was becoming so rare these days, she was sure it was the start of better things for this school year. Then she saw it, seeping through a wet patch on his shirt when he peeled off his coat to layer on top of her own due to the aftermath of an impromptu snowball fight. Ominous and taunting, the dark mark stared back at her.

Now, she finds herself turning slowly to face him, glad momentarily to find he's covered the incriminating tattoo, that she can't see it directly, with all its cruel implications. However, the knowledge of it has engraved itself in the centre of her thoughts, torturous and vile.

"How do you even begin to explain that, Draco?" She demands through gritted teeth. "How?"

He gulps under her harsh look despite knowing it's a quickly crumbling façade, watching her bottom lip tremble and her eyes well with reluctant tears. Words tumble out so quickly he's not even sure they make sense, a panicked onslaught of barely coherent apologies as he steps closer.

"No, Draco." She whimpers, stepping back. "No."

Her eyes clench shut and forces the escape of reluctant tears that she lifts her shaking hand to hide. The logical bit of her, the bit that tells her he doesn't want this, that knows him well enough to know his hand must have been forced in the matter, is hidden behind the bitterly betrayed part of her conscience.

"I can't do this right now." She exhales shakily.

His jaw slackens in defeat, explanations left hanging on the tip of his tongue while he watches her leave, ascending the steps to the castle. The weight of it all settles once again on his chest as it has all year, heavy on his lungs until he's forced to breathe manually under the pressure. He watches her go, convinced that's it, that his one perfect thing is gone for good.

His eyes cast downwards with shame and he's about to turn to walk away himself, to find somewhere to think everything through when he hears her yelp. He's too late in turning to help, instead staring wide-eyed and her crumbled figure at the bottom of the icy steps.

"(Y/N)!"

.

(Y/N) groans softly as she struggles to open her eyes, frown fixing itself on her face at the her unfamiliar surroundings. She doesn't register herself as being in the hospital wing until she hears the gentle tut of Madam Pomfrey from the foot of her bed.

"Miss (Y/L/N)." She greets. "Finally awake I see."

"Finally?"

Her voice is hoarse and quiet, forcing her to wonder just how long she's been out for. Madam Pomfrey gives her an understanding look and gives her a sympathetic smile. The older woman steps around her bed to (Y/N)'s side and gently pushes her into an upright position in order to manoeuvre the pillows in her aid.

"You had quite a tumble down the stairs, my dear." She informs. "Quite the concussion I'm afraid, so don't worry if it takes a moment to remember- I'm sure Mr Malfoy will be able to help once he wakes up too."

The nurse gesture with a slight smirk towards the head of blonde hair resting face down on the edge of the mattress, just by (Y/N)'s legs. The sight of him is enough to have the memories flooding back, heart aching at the memory.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few." Madam Pomfrey informs.

"Thanks." (Y/N) gulps.

Once the older woman is gone, footsteps placing her well in the distance, (Y/N) turns back to the sleeping boy by her side. He looks small here, curled by her side, so sweet it's hard to believe what he's hiding underneath his cool façade and long sleeves. She finds herself reaching a hand out tiredly for his hair, curling her fingers in it gently and watching him stir.

He wakes as groggily as she did, with the same confused frown. Then, eyes meeting hers, they widen and a sigh of sheer relief escapes his lips. He looks exhausted, with ashy grey circles hanging under his eyes, although she's sure they've been like that for months now.

"Thank goodness you're awake, (Y/N)." He exhales. "God, I was so worried."

"How long?"

"About a day." He informs. "You hit you're head really hard-"

"Not that." She corrects in a whisper. "How long have you had t-the mark?"

The light brought to his face from her recovery dies at the question, eyes dropping instantly. She almost feels bad, but she needs to know, she needs to understand this all before she can allow herself to look at him the same.

"The summer." He admits. "Just before the start of term."

She inhales loudly, sharply as she take it in. She pulls her hand back from where he'd clutched it in relief when he first woke. The betrayal bites bitterly at her heart and tugs her brows into a disbelieving frown.

"I know." He whispers.  

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs aloud, causing him to shift guiltily. The logical part of her is back, reminding her that she knows him, knows this is not something he would do if given the option not to.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her words throw him off and he stares at her in disbelief. Where he expects the furrowed brows of an angry glare, he finds her expression full of concern. His confusion over her reaction manifest itself as a frown.

"I'm a- a deatheater, (Y/N)."

His voice is hushed, cautious of the fact only the thin layer of the curtain around her bed shields them from the rest of the hospital wing, from listening ears. She lets out a sigh, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head in response.

"No you're not." She sighs, an almost desperate edge to her voice, as if she's trying to convince herself. "You're not, Draco."

"I took the mark, (Y/N)." He corrects. "I'm sorry."

"There's no way you wanted this." She argues. "This has your father written all over it. I know this isn't you-"

"How do you always do that?"

She can see him trying to keep himself together, fists clenched so tightly they shake and his eyes brimming with tears he's begging to stay put. He lets out a sharp sigh, turning away from her to hide how his mask is crumbling, how he's so quickly beginning to come undone.

"What?"

"What do you see that no one else does?"

His voice cracks. Red rimmed eyes meet (Y/N)'s, so full of raw emotion that she finds herself letting out the smallest of sniffles as her fingers reach out for his closed fists, loosening them enough to grasp his hand in hers.

"I see my boyfriend frowning more than he smiles." She begins, voice trembling. "I see him losing all motivation for his hobbies, I see him sneaking off when he thinks I'm not looking and telling me he's fine when he's not."

She squeezes his hand, begging him to understand, to understand that she's worried, she so worried for him that it hurts. She worried when his smile didn't meet his eyes on the train, and when he asked to stay curled together in his dorm room the day of the first Hogsmeade trip when they would usually go to Honeydukes together. She’s worried all year.

"I was so relieved yesterday to see you smile." She continues. "I miss your smiles so much, Draco."

He lets out an inaudible apology, fixing his tear filled eyes on their joined hands, gasping under the pressure to keep himself together. It's like she's pulled out the last thread, the one that was keeping him in one piece and as if any sudden movement will rip him apart now.

"I know you're a good person." She concludes. "I know you don't want this."

"I don't." He admits through a raspy, quiet sob. "I don't want this but I had to- I had to for my family."

"Your dad?" She asks sadly.

"Father made a mistake, but it's H-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who chose me, to amend my family's names in his eyes." He shakes his head. "It was the only decision that could be made."

"Draco..."

"You know what he did to Cedric Diggory." He explains. "I have to do this to keep us safe."

"You're just a kid, Draco." (Y/N) whimpers. "We're just kid and this isn't supposed to be our battle... I'm so sorry that it's ended up yours"

"Don't apologise to me." He pleads. "Don't., (Y/N)"

"Someone needs to, Draco." She argue. "This isn't fair on you."

Her voice finally cracks and tears rolls down her cheeks. She sighs in frustration when he looks up in concern. She's supposed to the pillar of support right now, hospital bed or not. The tears plough downward regardless though.

"Don't upset yourself." He begs.

"I'm angry, Draco!" She exclaims. "No at you- at this whole thing."

"(Y/N) please, you shouldn't stress yourself after the fall." He gulps. "You'll still have a concussion."

She's almost forgotten where they are, and why they're here in the first place. She lifts her free hand to the newly thumping pain in her head and grimaces. He shuffles closer, lifting a hand to tilt her head for inspection when she swats it away.

"No, I'm the patient so you have to listen to me."

She gives him a stubborn frown that has him sinking back like a scolded child to listen to her. She extends her bandaged arm out and pokes a finger against his chest sternly, his eyes widening at the serious look in her watery eyes.

"We're going to fix this." She states firmly. "We're going to fix this together and you and your family are going to be safe again."

"H-how?"

"I don't know but we will."

She drops her hand to find his once again, squeezing his fingers with a sigh. He stares at her in silence for so long she's worried he's angry, but then his lips twitch into the slightest of smiles and a breathless chuckles falls from his lips.

"Thought I was supposed to be looking after you." He explains softly.

"I only fell, Draco." She assures. "I'm fine."

"(Y/N), you have no idea how terrifying it was so see you on the ground like that." He shakes his head. "Not moving, not waking up, and all I could think was I drove you away and you hurt yourself."

"Draco..." She sighs. "I was surprised, I didn't know what to do when I saw that thing on your arm and  ran when I shouldn't have."

"This isn't your fault."

"It isn't yours either."

He lets out another laugh behind a poorly disguised sob, shaking his head again in surprise, perplexed again by her reactions. Always seeing the good in him, even when everyone is convinced it's not, when he himself has lost hold of it.

"I love you." He exhales.

"I love you too." She smiles sadly. "We're going to work this out, I promise."

He lift's the linked hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles gently. He believes her, something in his heart clinging to the assurance in her voice and the hope in her eyes. She's pulled that last thread, allowed him to fall apart at the seams in order to sew him back together again, gently and patiently, starting with the first stitch.

"I'm going to see that smile again."

.

Authors notes: like to think madam pomfrey is just sat outside the curtains like  👁👄👁 

[cheelduh]

The Shackles of Duty

Pairing: Diluc x gn!reader

Synopsis: As a weapon of the Abyss, your obligation towards your Princess should be eternal.

Warnings: Unedited angst. Pls ignore any mistakes besties <3

Word count: 2k

You've never really given the weather any thought. It's not as if it matters to you. Stormy day or not, your responsibilities—no, your duty towards the Abyss will remain the same.

It's still raining. The mud thick underneath your boots, slippery against your heel, the putrid smell of grassy dew lingering miserably against the air.

"You know what you have to do." The Abyss Princess commands you, her loyal servant, hers to dispose if she so desires.

"The dragon...Stormterror." You explain, goosebumps forming on your skin as a result of the damp clothes that adorn your wet body. "Your brother, the honorary night, along with others, thwarted our plans by eliminating the fragments."

"Why?"

"You know why, your grace." Is all that you can give to her. "I shall follow him. Keep him away, from inciting another encounter—"

"No," Lumine declares, no room for argument. "Infiltrating their ranks is no easy task. You mustn't be relieved of your post, not yet at least. We need to extract as much information as possible to further avoid outcomes like these."

Exactly the answer you don't want to hear in the middle of this archon forsaken storm, all bruised and bumped up from Stormterror's confrontation.

Don't make me do this again. I don't know how much more I'll be able to take.

You bite your tongue, knowing full well the finality of her words. "As you wish, my princess."

The familiar redhead suddenly plagues your mind, stoic, and with years worth of anger at the world. The hero in the shadows, the man with an agonizing past, a sense of retribution albeit his severed connections with the knights of favonious.

Despite the obstacles of life and the intellect honed from his journey, he's reckless. Reckless enough to still believe that he can make a difference. That anyone can make a difference.

Diluc is reckless enough to love someone, reckless to think that his sworn brother would be the only one capable of betraying him.

—

"There's no point." Diluc whispers loud enough for you to hear him underneath the stars, adding onto the lull of night. "They all keep walking—no, running, aimlessly because of duty. They follow orders without knowing where they come from. It's utter chaos."

"But in all the chaos, there is calculation." You lean against the stone of the walls, and as always, you know how to speak to Diluc. How to open him up and read him like a book.

You're sure he can do the same with you, but he just isn't looking where he should be. You need him to look; to realize he's tangled up in your web of deceit and that there's no way out.

"How do you do that?" He says, aware all at once. "How do you give me so much yet so little?"

I want to give you everything, the pretty and the ugly things alike. I want to give you my secrets, fold them up in a dirty, black, envelope, and have you turn it to ash with the violent flames of your heart.

It's a lot of work hiding under false pretences.

"It's a beautiful night, my love." You say instead.

Diluc's never gotten used to the term of endearment, still new to receiving affection. It warms him up differently to his vision, pleasant yet unfamiliar. It takes a moment for him to come back to himself.

You briefly jolt at the pleasant warmth of his hand atop yours, a silent reassurance, one that worsens your guilt, weaves it into something that pierces your rotten core.

—

You don't know what you're thinking when you stand in front of Jean's office, fist hovering.

Is forgiveness why you're here? No, because you would've went to Diluc first. You would've confessed to him right then and there about what a vengeful weapon you are, a mindless soldier that will do anything for their queen.

You don't even get a chance to think of the various ways he'd kill you when the door is open, and you're met with the view of the acting Grandmaster herself. Another dear friend that will come to despise you.

"Y/N! I'm glad you're here—"

"I'm a servant of the Abyss." You cut her off, and don't stop yourself, letting the words run freely against the fast pace of your heart. "I've infiltrated Mondstadt under the orders of the abyss princess and used what I've learned to conspire against the archons."

Everything's spinning, so fast you can barely breathe.

Jean doesn't move, doesn't even blink as the confusion dawns on her face. You aren't looking for confusion.

"Don't pretend you're blindsided completely," You give her a humourless chuckle, and by the hush of your tone it's as if you're telling her a secret to any spectators. "You've known for a while now that there's been a traitor within your ranks. Every single attack from the Abyss—too clean, too unpredictable, one could say with coincidence."

"But the universe is rarely so lazy." Your voice is smooth, calm, the complete opposite to the flurries of emotions that bloom your being. "Varka knew that. And so do you."

"No," Jean finally speaks up, denying your claim incandescently. "We've fought together for years. You're one of our best, our most dependable. Everything we've done—everything you've done has been for Mondstadt. As always."

If only that were the truth.

You wave a hand over your right eye, releasing the magical bind to reveal the intricate marker. Jean's eyes widen, and she's far from her usual composed self.

"Still don't believe me?" You ask, knowing full well she's still in denial. It's not everyday your best mate, the one that fights alongside you, admits to being a traitorous scum of the abyss drenched in years worth of lies.

Ah the trials and tribulations of friendship.

"Fine then," With the flick of your wrist, it doesn't take much effort for the main doors to open up with a bang.

The acting grand master draws back at the shrill sound, teeth gritting.

She isn't the only one that's provoked. Wood and Wyratt, the only two guards on duty at this time let out shouts of surprise, reaching for their swords on instinct.

You summon your abysmal magic, which shapes into deep blue, if not black, appendages. They glitter, hiding the entire galaxy in them, with stars that burst into life. Breathtaking if not used on the battlefield.

In mere seconds, one latches on to Wyratt's leg, while the other takes Wood by his arm. All it takes is a jerk of your index finger, and they're sent flying outside the doors, which unceremoniously slam shut behind them. The lock clicks into place, cherry on top.

Jean materializes her sword, taking on a defensive position. You don't think you've ever seen the woman irritated, let alone as livid as she is right now.

That's more like it.

"Go on. Arrest me." You bring your wrists up, casual as ever. "We'd better hurry. They'll come after me soon enough, it's in your best interest to listen to everything I have to say if I'm willing to die over it." There's a tightness in your chest that you can't explain.

Jean hardens her gaze, not allowing herself to relax. You know what she's going to say. You've been her friend, her advisor, long enough to understand where most of her actions and decision stem from.

She says—well she says nothing, because she doesn't get a chance to when an abrupt screech erupts from her office, causing your ears to perk up and your blood to run cold. A series of heavy footsteps, footsteps you're all too familiar with follow.

Although you're fairly certain you know who it is, you glance over her shoulder anyways to meet the fiery red eyes that have reserved a place in your heart. The sole reason you're blowing the whistle.

You feel a sharp pang in your heart.

The pure, authentic, hurt in Diluc's hardened features are enough to have you gutted completely. Mouth dry with a rock in your throat, you don't so much as allow yourself to exhale.

You finally understand why you didn't go to him first. You were sure he'd be able to survive the betrayal, but you weren't sure you'd be able to survive it yourself.

Diluc. You want to tell him, tell him how sorry you are. Tell him how much of a piece of shit you are. Tell him that he doesn't deserve this, that he deserves so much better. Tell him that you love him, devastatingly so.

It isn't supposed to end this way. Things never go as planned.

You avert your gaze, clench your jaw shut, and wait.

"Jean." Diluc says, and there's grim finality in his voice. "We need a moment." His words send small pricks throughout your spine.

Jean regains her composure, mulling over his request, but any resistance is placated by a simple look from the redhead.

When she reluctantly leaves, the quiet is near unendurable.

"Why?" If the way Diluc's fixed gaze could set anything on fire, you would've been burned to the stake by now.

You'd calculated this moment countless of times, predicted exactly how this would go, lived through every outturn in the dead of the night as you struggled to find sleep in his arms.

Living through it is far more dreadful than you could've ever imagined it to be.

His body closes in at your lack of reply, hands gripping your forearm to pull you in and kick the door shut. "Why?" This time it's more firm.

You open your mouth to speak, like a fish out of water, and out comes nothing.

"I trusted you," Diluc says weakly, in a way that has your heart shattering a million times a second. Tightening his hold on your arm, he continues "You were the only one I...I should've known. I was foolish to think I could believe in you." a sharp exhale, and he pushes you back against the door, but it's not harsh at all. He's gentle, and somehow that makes everything so much more worse.

Your inability to reply sparks a different kind of rage in his heart.

"It must have been quite the show, watching everyone run in circles." He seethes, furious, wounded. "Was it all just a lie? Were my feelings ever returned? Or was I just another one of your fair games?"

You wrench away from his hold as if it's burning you. The words are like needles, pinning into you with so much force it has you lurching in place, and then they twist deep within your blackened veins.

"Stop it." You should've just left. Should've just pushed back the nagging in your brain and jumped off a cliff or a something. Surely the unexpected death of a royal guard—no, the death of a fundamental piece in their plan would surely be enough to cripple them for at least a few days, if not weeks.

Anything but this.

You meet his gaze. "I do love you Diluc, that I am sure of. You don't have to believe me. I know I wouldn't."

"Is that all you have to say?" He all but hisses, gloved fingers closing in to form a fist. "You've betrayed everyone. Your friends, your family...me."

"You think I don't know that?" Your voice breaks when you look away. "I don't know what's right anymore, what's wrong. I don't even know what I've been fighting for this entire time." A sharp, mirthless laugh escapes your lips, "To allow myself to carry out orders I do not believe in is too much to bear. How long do I delude myself into thinking that this is all for Khaenri'ah? That this is all for a reason that is beyond me?"

There's a sliver of softness that shows in his features, but you're too busy calming the waves crashing in your head.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter anymore." You say, the sinking of your chest only expanding. "I've already contravened against the abyss, and for that they will come for me. The only thing I regret is that they couldn't get to me before you did."

A stricken look passes across his face, brows furrowed and desperation as clear as day when he reaches for you.

This time, you let his arms curl around your shaking figure, welcoming the comfort that you're undeserving of. "I won't let them."

"I'm sorry." You whisper shakily, fisting the fronts of his coat. "I'm so sorry Diluc."

Diluc hums as he strokes your hair soothingly, with the utmost of care. Although his trust in you has shattered, like irreplaceable fragments of glass, his love for you will remain constant.

Even with the storm that is fated to come.

[frogtanii]

It’s wind anon!!! Who is back from the dead!

Last week was a mess of work and poor sleep. Wind anon woke up in the middle of the night for 4 of the 7 days, and had nightmares some of the others. So overall, unpleasant. But now wind anon is all good!

Getting back to reactions now :D!!

Okay, so I might as well react to the Kenma portion of “xxv. Insecurities :(“ because I haven’t gotten to it yet.

Aaaaaa anxious and insecure :0!!!! “I know I’m not the most fun” says Kenma. Wind anon, ready to throw biodegradable glitter all over Meiko’s stuff. Lord knows she doesn’t know how to do laundry—but yes. Kenma, I give many a soft pat.

“She never cared about me or what I liked...she hated the way I looked, which I don’t blame her” okay, these 3 texts (that I very conveniently put into one quotation). Wind anon finding peace with herself by imagining Meiko messing up her eyeliner and being unable to stop. Firstly, I am of the opinion that if she doesn’t care for you, you should not care for her. The idea is that you should not value her criticism and opinion especially when it’s something as superficial as looks and appearance. She was in the wrong, that’s the end of it.

“I don’t have anything to offer you” my heart is kinda heavy with this. I felt this a lot actually. Wind anon has a decent amount of self-deprecation and worries and stuff. She’s been getting better but like... there’s still times that wind anon is...struggling with her inability to do anything and such. I’m the pessimistic type. Constantly thinking of how the way I talk and type is childish, how I’m easily distracted, I talk too much, stuff like that. So this line kinda hurts in the “I understand” type of way.

“I was really mean to you too”. There was one instance where I was...irrationally angered. And I blew up on so so many people. I am ashamed of that incident, and yet...yet... they just...brushed it off? I said lots and lots of mean and terrible things to each of them but they just... I had went and gave apologies to every one of them directly in DMs the day of but they... they all said there was no harm done, that they were okay, that it’s fine for me to get angry too, and I just...couldn’t believe it. Because they all “forgave” me, or stated that there was nothing to forgive. It was baffling, it was...heartbreaking... I did end up crying because I really felt like I didn’t deserve them. Maybe part of the reason I didn’t react to Kenma until now was because some parts really hit close to home. The idea of forgiveness for example. Kenma and I really are the types to beat ourselves up after any sort of mistake. But Kenma is trying to get better, and he should respect himself for that.

“It just makes you different. And you being different isn’t bad.” YN...please, making me cry and be soft. I love YN very very very much. Oh, to cuddle in YN’s arms,,,,

“We all wanna help you and be there for you—never forget you’re worthy of love and affection just like everyone else.” Please, I cannot, I love YN so so much I just (cue wind anon sobbing from feels like the cat image with many many hearts around them). Every day we think of YN Supremacy.

Okay, gonna end this reaction here and move on to the next one! Might’ve overshared a bit;;

We <3 u fr0ggy! Take care okay?

ahh welcome back!! m rlly sorry that last week was horrible for you —i know u said ur all good but pls get some rest!!! <333 && u didn’t overshare at all!! i absolutely get being self deprecating, it’s part of the reason why i wrote this chapter the way i did!! anyways much love to u wind nonnie, i hope all is well!!

[jiracheer]

!!! My very first request!!! 🥺 I was so happy to see this in my inbox!! Sorry these are a bit long, but I hope you enjoy nevertheless anon!! 💕💕 pls forgive any grammar mistakes! im p sure i wrote this around 2 AM LMAO

__________________________________________

{ Haikyuu boys taking you out on your first date HCs }

ASAHI AZUMANE

we all know he's rlly nervous about y'alls first date

he probably asks the boys for help about places to go, and how to ask you out!!

Suga, Daichi, Yachi, Kiyoko, Ennoshita, and Yams are super helpful!! They give him a lot of helpful tips, and even help him figure out a way to ask you out in the most perfect way possible!

Tsukki, Noya, Tanaka, Kags, and Hinta were little to no help. Their Ideas were... Good, but they weren't what he was looking for. He appreciates their help in the end 

you both tend to walk home together. It really depends though! Sometimes you're down to wait until practice is over, and sometimes you just wanna go home and do your own thing

so on one of the walks home, he stops you halfway and asks you if you wanted to go roller skating date with him over the weekend

his face is so red

and so is yours because you never would've thought he'd ask you out on a date

he thinks you're about to reject him because you're just standing there in silence

"Y-You don't- We don't have to go-"

"No! Wait! I do wanna go out with you!"

the rest of the walk home is really awkward, but there's a sweet smile on y'alls faces

when the day finally comes, Asahi picks you up from your house and you're 🥺

he's wearing a cute pair of jeans with a wooly sweater over a white button up, and converse

and you're like,,, omg, did i underdress?? i need to look as cute as that??? and you look like you're about to go back inside and change, but he stops you halfway and tells you that you look cute

last minute he pulls out a handful of flowers, and you're about to cry because he's so damn cute, but then he apologizes bc lowkey they're kinda crushed

but its okay

you put them inside and y'all start leaving

y'all chat about whatever and you walk close to him, and you hold onto his arm and lean against him

when it comes to the skating part? y'all are dying.

you both cling to the walls until you finally find the confidence to skate, and you're FERAL. You're zooming around, and Asahi is just watching you with big eyes and a blush

you try your best to pull him off the wall, and skate with you, and he was terrified! man almost peed his pants! but eventually you peel him off and he's SHAKING

this tall beefy man that could snap you in half, is leaning on you and holding onto you for dear life, and you're the only thing between him and the floor

it takes him a hot minute before he's finally able to stand without busting his ass, or shaking, so you take his hand and y'all are just vibing

when the couple song comes on? He's heading towards the exit and you tug him BACK into the rink, and you're like :) "let's skate!!"

he almost passes out

he never would've thought you'd want to skate with him during a couple turn 🥺

he holds your hand real tight, and you interlace your fingers with him. and it's just really nice

Asahi leans against you again but it's not as heavy, it's a good weight that you wanna feel all night long

y'all decide to split a pizza and an icee, and you're just hanging out at your table and you're just sitting close and 🥺🥺🥺

his face is close to yours when you talk, and you're hugging his arm and you just lay your head on his shoulder

im so fuckin soft

eventually, you get really tired and it's time to go home

Asahi takes you home and nervously takes your hand before you go in, and he kisses your knuckles and wishes you goodnight

the second you're inside? you're dying

Asahi is also dying

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

you and Iwa are probably already pretty close, and you both knew how you felt, but neither one of you knew how to approach the situation

bc no cap?

Iwa was lowkey waiting for YOU to say something

while you were waiting for IWA to say something

and the whole team is sick and tired of it. Especially Oikawa

He just wants to see his two favorite people get together!!!

So he urged Iwa to say something after one of their matches

and thats when you both decide to finally make plans for a date, and you both suggested going bowling

and y'all just kinda looked at each other

and laughed really fuckin hard

You both decide to just meet up there since it would be easier for the both of you

he looks rlly cute in his usual attire of just a good pair of jeans, hoodie, and a jacket above it

and you're like. eyein that jacket. you want it by the end of the night

so you two go in, get your shoes, and start heading down to the lanes

on god, you're nervous. you're scared of your fingers getting stuck in the balls

you tell Iwa and he laughs at you, telling you that it won't happen if you're careful

you kinda eye him like uhmmm if you say so????

but you're still careful

y'all decide to name each other

Iwa is a gentleman, so he makes your nickname 'Sunshine :)'

sadly tho, you decide to be a lil shit, and his nickname is 'Oikawa's whore'

he punches your arm and you're in tears from how hard you're laughing

y'all decide to place a bet at the start since you wanted to add some spice to the date

you make a bet that if iwa wins, you're paying for the food, and if you win, he pays for the food

eventually you start playing and he's way ahead of you, and you're hitting his back jealous that he's winning

iwa is laughing in your face and he reaches for another ball. you have a feeling that this is gonna be the ball that makes you lose

you just watch in horror as he lifts the ball

he's preparing to throw it...

and!

he's sent forward, collapsing onto the ground with a double heavy thud

you blink.

and then you LAUGH REALLY FUCKIN HARD

Karma is a bitch! Iwa's fingers got stuck in the ball, and he's just laying there dumbfounded, and you're laughing

you have to help him up eventually, and you're trying so hard not to cry/shout in laughter. He's all red, but you help his fingers out and y'all sit down

you look over his hand and you're making sure his fingers aren't broken or anything

iwa just watches your tiny lil hand in his, and his heart is racing SO FAST

it isn't until you kiss his fingertips and tell him that you're gonna go get ice, that this man explodes

he takes your wrist and pulls you down so he can kiss your nose and he thanks you with a tiny mumble

you lowkey die on the spot and stagger away to get his ice, and when you come back there's a bit more pep in your step

you come back and his fingers seem okay, so you just decide maybe it's a good time to start going back home

the walk back is full of laughter and him eventually throwing an arm around your shoulder

you lean into his side and you hold his hand

when he drops you off the two of you just hang out in your porch

and he eventually leans down to kiss you 🥺 and he whispers good night against your lips

he waves you farewell, and you do too

and you know damn well you wanna go on another date with this man

TENDOU SATORI

on god I struggled to think of a date idea for Tendou

bc I was given SOOOOO MANY GOOD DATE IDEAS FOR THIS FUCKER

Tendou decided to ask you out of the blue if you wanted to go to the zoo with him

you were kinda shocked to see that Tendou wanted to go somewhere with YOU of all people

because no cap, you thought u were pretty Lame, and not cool enough to hang out with him, but. 😳 um. you said yes! let's go to the zoo!!!

but you really didn't know if it was a date or not, because he didn't say it, but in your head its a date

you're a lil nervous about going to the zoo with him because you haven't hung around with him one on one

Leon, Semi, and even Toshi, were always with y'all when you two would hang out

so having alone time with him is KINDAAAA intimidating

but when he pulls up to your house so excited to take you out 🥺 all of your anxieties are GONE!!!!!

he does not HESITATE to take your hand. He holds your tiny lil hand in his much bigger one, and he just chats about whatever comes to mind

when y'all are on the train, he sits across from you just so he can watch you stare out the window and admire you AND the view outside

he chose a pretty good day to take you out. the sun was bright and warm, and you were wearing the cutest dress so he knew today was going to be pretty good

the second you get to the zoo he makes sure to buy tickets to ride the train around the zoo, and even access to the carousel

you're about to WWE bodyslam him to the ground for buying you your ticket!! like motherfucker I have the money!!!!!!

you're so close to beating the shit out of him, but he slips the access bracelet around your wrist and slips his fingers through yours and he's like

🥰🥰🥰🥰!!!

anger? gone.

serotonin? here.

your love for him? massive.

hotel? trivago.

you decide to get a map of the zoo so you two know where you're going, and you end up navigating the both of you around

Tendou is going feral over all the animals, and he tugs on you gently to point at whatever animal is doing something he finds exciting

He even goes as far as to pick you up if you can't see a certain animal because they're positioned somewhere high

when it comes to finally going on the small ass train, y'alls legs are basically twisted with eachother and your hip is pressed against his in such an uncomfortable position

its a tight fit!!! im pretty sure your leg is falling asleep

but you can't help but giggle and laugh when Tendou leans over you to see the animals, cheek pressed against yours since you turned your head to look too

ugh. fucker takes this chance to kiss your cheek and nose it, and when you go all red he laughs at you

when you go see the penguins he holds you really close to his side, and hugs you from behind to keep you warm

but also so he can see the penguins better. the penguin house was lowkey full

you have to hold him back from touching most animals that seemed close enough to be touched

y'all get a pretzel and split that shit, but then you're both screaming when a bird swoops down to steal it right from your hands

just as you're about to get on the carousel, there's a distant rumble of thunder and you both stop like ????? brother what??? the sun was OUT

the zoo announces that they would be closing soon due to the rain, and they urge the members to start heading to their cars or whatever other method of transportation

you just look at Tendou like 👁_____👁 wut da hell we gon do...... now?

Tendou looks back at you like queen don't ask me. i didnt think we'd get this far on god

you both decide to just start leaving so you don't get caught in the rain

but wow, what do you know, it starts raining as you walk to the train station

and you BOOK IT

you're screeching as the rain just hits you at full force, and you're holding onto Tendou's arm for dear life, and he's laughing so hard and just stops

you're like ??? IT'S RAINING???? WE GOTTA BLAST BITCH

but listen. This dude is vibing now. He just had such a good day with you, and the rain feels so nice on his hot skin, and he's never felt so much at once

and you kinda just stop and admire him for a bit. So you stand under the rain with him before it gets to be too much, and you take his hand gently and start walking to the station

y'all just hang under the tin roof the station provides

you're both soaked, but sit close to one another to share heat bc y'all kinda stupid for tryin to act out a hallmark movie scene

but hey

at least y'all had fun, right?

[team-free-will-oneshots]

Figure It Out

Title: Figure It Out (part seven of the ‘Buried Secrets’ series) Summary: Dean wants - nay, needs to apologise to you... right after you and Sam slept together, landing you in the midst of a messy situation and forcing you to make a painful decision. Loosely inspired by ‘Figure it Out’ by Eliott, highly recommend u give her a listen, she’s an incredible artist !!! and not nearly well-known enough !! Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader (fem pronouns) Warnings: some swearing, !! a n g s t !! Word Count: 3.4k

note; ah, finally, the next part of the buried secrets series... even i don’t rly know what tense i’m writing in anymore just go with it pls lmao, hope u enjoy!!

Buried Secrets Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Your phone was ringing.

You blinked sluggishly as the familiar ringtone echoed throughout the room, and thrust your hand blindly over the nightstand until you finally snagged the device between your fingers. Still half asleep, you didn’t even glance at the caller ID before you held it up to your ear, making a groggy noise of assent.

“Y/N. It’s me. We need to talk.”

And just like that, you were wide awake, mouth falling open as you felt every muscle tense. The warm arm slung over your waist moved, the bed sheets rustling as Sam glanced up at you sleepily, tangled naked against you in the bed. He squinted at you in confusion, and you cleared your throat.

“D-Dean?” you stammered. “What do you want?”

Your words fell with a harsh edge, and you winced at the coldness in your tone. Dean was quiet for a moment, and Sam’s eyes next to you widened at the mention of his brother’s name. He shot you a quizzical glance, and you shook your head quickly, anxiety twisting in your stomach when Dean spoke again.

“Uh- look, Y/N, I fucked up. I really fucked up, and- and I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am… I need to talk to you in person,” he finished, and you clenched your jaw.

“And what makes you think I want to talk to you?” you shot back.

“Because you haven’t hung up,” he said simply. “Please, Y/N. I need to see you.”

Your teeth worried at your lower lip, and eventually you sighed, nodding even though he couldn’t see it. It was rare for you to hear such desperation in his voice, and if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to get closure on this, too.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Okay, um… I’ll be there soon.”

You hung up before he had a chance to reply, and you tossed your phone haphazardly to the side as you collapsed back against the headboard, exhausted despite it already being noon - judging by the bright sunlight streaking through the window, at least.

“Dean?” Sam asked, voice thick with sleep as he raised an eyebrow. You nodded, pulling up the sheets to preserve your modesty as you swallowed, hard.

“Yeah. I think he- I think he wants to apologise,” you said quietly. Sam mulled over this for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he considered your words.

“Do you want to forgive him?” he asked eventually. You bit your lip as you shrugged.

“I want to. Of course I want to. But… do you think I should?” you asked, and Sam gave a sympathetic smile.

“That’s up to you, Y/N. You don’t have to decide now - just hear him out. No one’s expecting you to just let it go,” he said, and you exhaled slowly as you nodded. You felt his arm move from your stomach to prop himself up against the pillow, and your cheeks warmed as the events of last night seemed to come crashing down over you. Sam lowered his gaze, staring at the sheets so firmly you half wondered if he was counting every thread.

“So, if you… if you do decide to forgive him...” he began slowly. “Where does that leave us?”

You sighed, putting your face in your hands as you shook your head and drew your knees to your chest. “I don’t know,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, Sam, I’m so sorry. This is all such a mess, I don’t…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam murmured, pushing himself upright and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned gratefully against his bare chest, the heat of his body seeming to melt every worry from your mind as you lost yourself in his kind embrace. “Look, you don’t have to- to make any big decisions right now. And… if you wanna cool things down between us, I get it. And it’s okay,” he said, his thumb finding your chin and tilting up your reluctant gaze until it found his.

“I just- I don’t know where I stand, Sam. I care about him, of course I care about him, and I care about you, but I never got closure with him and then us happened and god, I’ve messed everything up, I-”

“Hey, you didn’t mess anything up,” Sam firmly countered. “Last night was… it was great. I- I had a great time, but let’s be honest, we were both a bit drunk. Maybe it’s for the best that we… ease off,” he suggested, though you could see the hurt hiding behind his gentle smile, and it only made your heart ache.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. “I-I need time to figure everything out. This is so…” You sighed heavily, and he cracked a reassuring smile.

“Complicated?” he offered, and you nodded glumly.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, and he rubbed your back soothingly.

“Well… you know I’m always here for you, right? Any way you need me - best friend or otherwise,” he reminded you, and you managed a tiny smile.

“How are you so perfect?” you whispered, and he chuckled, shaking his head sheepishly.

“I’m far from perfect, Y/N,” he muttered, but as you watched the glow of his tan skin beneath the brilliant sunlight, the understanding selflessness shadowing his hazel eyes, you found his words difficult to believe.

“Well… I guess we should get back,” you whispered. “Apparently, I have an apology to listen to.”

---

Dean paced.

The idea of sitting still and waiting was abhorrent to him - his mind was racing, mouth full of words he longed to spill, and so, he paced.

His footsteps thudded on the tiled floor of the bunker’s war room, and at the slightest hint of noise, his gaze was drawn upwards to the front door. Each time, he was disappointed; met only with the dulled sheen of metal. Each time, he clenched his jaw, and continued to walk.

He wanted to make this right - needed to make this right. After his… interaction with Amara, you were the only thing on his mind. He’d screwed up with you once, and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.

If she even wants to take you back, his brain whispered, and he shook the painful thoughts away despite the truth with which they rang. He couldn’t think about that, not yet, not now. Whether or not you wanted to be with him was irrelevant at the moment - he needed you to know how sorry he was, that he accepted you, that you belonged here, even if it wasn’t with him.

In fact, Dean found himself so engrossed in his own ponderings that he missed the door creaking open, missed the footsteps echoing on the staircase. He missed everything except for the sound of your voice, which had him flying around in an instant.

“Dean?”

He turned to see you standing tall, shoulders back and jaw tight as Sam stood somewhat defensively behind you. Dean felt his heart break at the guarded look in your eyes - or rather, at the fact that he was the one to put it there.

“Y/N,” he barely whispered, voice coming out hoarse. He swallowed, licking his lips and trying to moisten his dry mouth as he struggled to find the words. His eyes darted to Sam, and back to you.

“Do you mind if we talk? In private?” he asked eventually. You seemed to hesitate a moment, before sharing a silent exchange with Sam and nodding.

“Okay,” you sighed heavily, and Sam took his leave, disappearing down the corridor. You and Dean both watched him leave, and once the two of you had your privacy, turned back to one another.

“So.” Your voice was hard, expression careful as you studied Dean warily. He sighed, shoulders slumping, but he quickly straightened them and cleared his throat. This wasn’t about him - he didn’t want you feeling sorry for him, not right now.

“Y/N, I…” And just like that, every sorrowful speech he’d found himself practising over the past few days seemed to disintegrate, leaving him with nothing but a leaden tongue and a heart so heavy he wasn’t sure how it hadn’t fallen from his chest. He searched blindly for the right words, and in his frantic search found himself blurting the first thing that came to mind.

“I owe you five bucks,” he stammered. You blinked, startled. Whatever you’d been expecting to hear, it clearly wasn’t that.

“I- you- what?” you asked in surprise. Dean was surprised as you were to hear the words flee his lips, but his expression melted into one of nervous amusement as he chuckled, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I-uh…” He swallowed. “That night, before - well, everything… when we went for a walk, I… I said that if I ever met a witch who was good, then I’d owe you five bucks. Seems like I need to pay up,” he said. His smile was anxious, eyes creased in worry that he’d fucked up this, too - but his concerns were eased when he saw you biting back a smile.

“That all?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, and he shook his head fiercely.

“No, it’s- no. God, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I was- I was angry. And I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s all I’ve got. I… I felt betrayed, but that was no reason to act like - well, like that. And the moment you were gone I regretted it. Seeing you cry, it…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It was hell. And I wanted to reach out before, but Donna said to give you space, but then I was with Amara and-”

“Wait, you what?” you demanded angrily, and Dean fell silent, perplexed at your reaction.

“I- I went looking for Amara, and she-”

“Oh my god, Dean, are you stupid? You went looking for Amara on your own? What if something had happened to you?!” you said in outrage.

“Look, it all worked out, didn’t it? I’m fine!” he said, holding out his arms. He felt pleasantly surprised at the notion that you would have been at all concerned for his wellbeing - god knew he didn’t deserve your worry.

“Anyway, that’s beside the point - the point is, she made me realise that I couldn’t let you just- just keep thinking that I hate you. Because I don’t. I could never hate you, Y/N. And- and I’m so sorry that I could ever make you think that I did.”

You chewed your lower lip, eyes swimming with emotions that Dean couldn’t quite decipher. Eventually, you sighed.

“I owe you an apology, too,” you mumbled, and Dean’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. He shook his head furiously.

“No, Y/N, you absolutely do not-”

“Let me finish,” you interrupted, and Dean obediently fell quiet. You sighed again. “I shouldn’t have made that hex bag without asking you first. It wasn’t cool of me to take that choice away from you, even if I thought I was doing the right thing. And I’m sorry you had to find out about me the way you did. I was just… I was scared,” you admitted, and Dean’s face twisted in pain.

“That’s just it, Y/N. I don’t ever want you to feel scared around me, especially for being you. And- and I get that you were trying to help. I really do, and I appreciate that you care. Cared. Whatever. I guess I’m just… not that great at accepting help.” He chuckled dryly, eyes glued to the floor as the smile died on his lips. “But that doesn’t excuse what I did to you. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you,” he vowed, his eyes finally rising to meet yours. A small, teary smile crossed your face.

“Thanks, Dean,” you whispered, and he opened his arms tentatively, looking at you questioningly. Your smile widened, and when you stepped into his arms, Dean felt complete for the first time since you’d left. You fit perfectly into his embrace, so soft and warm, and when his arms closed protectively around you, he found himself never wanting to let go. It felt so right - like the world could be falling apart around you, but so long as you had one another, everything would somehow work itself out. Even after all that had happened, the press of his body over yours still made your heart race, a pleasant thrill that you momentarily lost yourself in as your buried your face in his shoulder.

You pulled back after a long moment, and Dean cleared his throat. “Look… you have every right to say no to this, okay? But… I would really like to put this behind us and try to pick up where we left off, if that’s… if that’s something you’re open to.”

Your face fell, and Dean quickly backtracked. “Too soon. It’s okay, I get it,” he said quickly, but you shook your head.

“It’s not… well, it is, but… look, Dean. I- I want to make things right here. I really do. But I’ve spent the last week or so thinking that you hated my guts. I… I’ve lost my trust in you,” you admitted, voice tiny, and Dean’s heart broke. He swallowed down his own emotions, and he nodded.

“I get it,” he said quietly, but you weren’t finished.

“And even if we can build that back up again, it’s… things are really complicated,” you continued, and Dean sighed.

“I know - a hunter and a witch, not the most conventional, but-”

“No, no it’s not that,” you interrupted, sparing a glance down the empty corridor that Sam had disappeared down earlier. “Look, Dean, I like you. I do. I have for… for a long time. But… while Sam and I were away, we…” You swallowed hard, and Dean’s stomach dropped.

“You and- you and my brother?” he asked, face contorting as though he had just bitten into something sour. You gave a small nod.

“As much as I care about you - and I do, believe me, I do -, I care about Sam as well. We’ve cooled things down between us, but- but that doesn’t change the fact that I have feelings for him, as well. I just… I can’t make any decisions right now, Dean. I need time to work everything out, to build up our friendship again, to… to work out exactly what it is I feel. Because right now… everything just feels so messy, it’s like my head is so crowded and I just- I don’t know what to do,” you admitted. Dean smiled sympathetically.

“Hey, I get it. Well, not exactly, but- but I get that this is a tricky situation. You take as much time as you need to figure things out, okay? I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, but despite the good face he had plastered on, he couldn’t ignore the devastation weighing in his gut. He’d missed his chance. He’d gone and fucked it up, just like he fucked up everything. Of course you had turned to Sam - he hadn’t gone and blown up at you, had he?

And the worst part was, he couldn’t even be angry about it. The only person he could be angry with was himself - he could never deny you or his brother happiness, even if it left him heartbroken. Perhaps he deserved this - after all, wasn’t it the perfect punishment for his crime? You had moved on, and he had to step aside and deal with that on his own. You and Sam deserved one another - deserved to find happiness together, even at Dean’s expense. And he would never dare to step in the way of that. He’d already messed things up enough.

He wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

---

Your room was just as messy as you had left it, and so that night, you busied yourself with cleaning. Piles of clothes still littered your bed, untouched and collecting dust during your time away, weighing down the mattress springs with memories of an easier time. Each item you folded brought with it recollections of that night - desperately clawing through your wardrobe in search of an outfit, only to have all thoughts of clothes fleeing your mind the moment Dean’s eyes fell on you… you remembered his smile, the light in his eyes that you hadn’t seen… ever. How safe you felt with him, the gentle brush of his lips on your own... It had only been a week, but it felt so much longer.

And with memories of yours and Dean’s date came those of yours and Sam’s - your little black dress, the buzz of the alcohol, of his mouth on yours, hot and passionate, erasing any other thoughts from your mind and distracting you from the pain of Dean’s rejection still burning in your chest.

Sighing, you fell back onto your bed, soft flannels pressing in at your sides as you stared tiredly at the roof. What a mess you’d found yourself in - you wished you could go back. Back to a time when everything was easier - when you didn’t have to somehow untangle the complicated feelings inside you. When it was just you, Sam and Dean - when the idea of being with either of them was just a distant dream, and not a crushing burden of a decision.

You thought of Sam’s faltering smile if you chose Dean, of the hardness in Dean’s eyes if you chose Sam… of the pain in both of their faces, and in your own heart, if you chose neither of them. No matter which way you spun it, someone was going to get hurt.

And you had to decide who.

The growling of your stomach drew you from your thoughts, and you begrudgingly got to your feet and headed towards the kitchen to throw together something for dinner. You were halted just outside the door when you heard Sam and Dean quietly speaking inside, paired with the clinking of cutlery and the splashes of water as someone washed up.

“....thought you said there was nothing between you two,” Dean was saying casually, and you heard Sam’s muffled sigh.

“Well, I didn’t think it was a two-way street,” he confessed. “Besides, once you sent her packing… can you really blame her for coming to me?”

A pause. Then a heavy sigh.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right. And now it seems like we’re all stuck between a rock and a hard place,” Dean scoffed.

“Yeah. Feelings for both of us, huh? What are we s’posed to do with that?” Sam muttered. Dean sighed again.

“We let her make her choice. And then, we have to live with it,” he said simply. Another pause, a sullen silence broken only by the clinking of dishes in the sink. You heard the gurgle of water as someone pulled the plug, and you pictured the water draining away, leaving a few stray soap suds behind... and suddenly, you were back there with Dean, his threaded through your wet hair as he crushed his lips to yours...

“I just… I wish she’d get it over with,” Sam admitted, his voice dragging you from your thoughts.

“Yeah, me too.”

“But you know what it’ll mean when she does, right?” Sam pressed. “One of us is gonna have to watch her with the other.”

“You think I don’t know that, Sam?” Dean snapped. “That’s all I’ve thought about since she said…” Dean trailed off, and you could just picture him shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts. “Doesn’t matter. It’s her choice. End of story. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy,” Dean said firmly. “Even if she happens to choose the less handsome Winchester,” he added cheekily, and you could almost hear Sam rolling his eyes, followed by the quick tussle between the two brothers.

“Yeah… yeah, I guess you’re right,” Sam admitted eventually. You heard footsteps approaching the door, but quickly darted back to your room before they could see you - the grumbling of your stomach had passed, and now you felt nauseous as opposed to hungry. Not for the first time, you wished you weren’t a witch - then none of this would have happened.

You felt what you chalked up to another stress headache blooming in your temples, and you winced, sitting back on your bed and resting your head in your hands. You couldn’t let this decision hang over you forever - the longer you waited, the longer they were tormented with not knowing. And they deserved an answer - deserved to know how you felt.

If only you knew how that was.

__________

Read Part Eight Here!

Buried Secrets tags: @clarinette07 @demonsofhunting @carryon-doctor-lock @coupleofgoons @colie87 @non-exclusive-trash @txnii-hxrdyy @spaghettiwoes @supersouthy @bee-happy-buzz-on @lolmkaythen @defenderrosetyler @sammykb1994 @cocklesbelli @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @witch-of-letters @lilasundari @aquaastrid @deathofmissjackson @officialmarvelwhore @imdoingathingmom @thebookisbtr @sideblogsmutting

Forever tags: @babygirloreo @calaofnoldor @lmpala97 @sebastianshoe @81mysteriouslyme @castieliswatchingoverme @kina666 @liviaolivia @simplyxparker @helpmeluci @demonsofhunting @bee-happy-buzz-on @lilulo-12

Dean tags: @polina-93 @justagirlinafandomworld @coupleofgoons @justanotherwinchester

Sam tags: @sammys-dimpless

as always, let me know if u wanna be added to any tag lists !!

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 12

Prompt: Anon was kind with “Highway to Hell” by AC/DC (shown in blockquotes as usual), Asgard, the throne. Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Swearing as usual, references to lemon and sugared lemon (nothing detailed this time), a truckload of feels, and a pinch of...recklesness? A/N:  I know my writing is very slow at the moment and you may all blame my BA for that. I hope this chapter ended up as good as I claim and if you do like it PLS reblog <3

Is it madness?

A golden glow manages to worm its way past your heavy eyelids, reminding you of a world outside of the cocoon you’ve snuggled into. A nest of soft sheets and cool limbs, a gentle breath fanning your shoulder in a slow but steady rhythm.

Blinking against the morning sun, you take in the serenity that are the ruins from the night: parts of the pretty dress are scattered in a path to the bed and the golden horns are dangling from the canopy above, gleaming playfully at you until you see the warped reflection of you and Loki who’s practically wrapped around you.

Craning the neck only brings a sliver of the god’s face and pale upper body into view. Time to be sneaky. There’s no way you want to wake him up already. He needs the rest…and honestly, you want this moment to last. All too soon this dream of a morning will be shattered in some nasty way that probably involves guards and a prison cell…if lucky. So you twist slowly, careful not to jostle Loki too much with the series of wriggles it takes before you finally lie chest to chest with him.

If someone would have told you this is where you’d end before you’d stolen the tiger’s eye pendant…the would have sounded like liars. Or at least you’d have made sure to let them know how crazy there were. Crazy indeed. Of course stealing from a god could have consequences! It just wasn’t supposed to have included falling for the freaking guy.

How could you not have? Chiseled features hides one of his best assets: the highly intelligent mind that enjoyes challenging you and holds immense knowledge on any subject you could possibly fathom even a fraction of. Combining that with a personality which you don’t even have the vocabulary to fully describe and a body tha–

“You’re staring, my queen.” Loki’s voice is raw and sweet, still heavy with sleep.

“Still got your eyes closed so how’d y’know?”

When they open, there’s only a tiny hint of crimson at the edges to contrast the turquoise. Perfect and cold like ice to some, it’s hard to understand how warm his gaze is. Loki isn’t one person with neatly defined traits. No. He’s a living, breathing, goddamn paradox.

“My eyes are open now,” he smiles, “and you’re still staring.”

“A cat may look at a king.”

Living easy, living free Season ticket on a one-way ride

Dark brows wrinkle as he ponders the meaning of the idiom, and you can see the moment he realises what it means. “There are some laws here that we will have to abide by.” The smile’s gone, the joy too.

“What’s gonna happen to you?” If you’d wanted to sound brave, well, that’s not what you managed to pull off as the question’s reduced to a meek whisper.

Soft lips seek out your forehead and mouth. It’s not a real answer. Less so the answer you actually want because you can taste the desperation on his tongue as both of you try to commit the other to memory in the hopes of stretching this glorious morning into infinity.

It’s to the sound of the birds and rustle of silk sheets that Loki makes love to you. Sweet and tender. Toe-curling bliss rolling through your body like waves onto a dry beach until the second orgasm pulls the god along in the surf, your name spilling from his lips in a broken whisper.

We belong…

…   Loki’s PoV   …

He had never intended for things to go the way they did. [Y/N]’s feistiness had drawn him in, her wit and skills had dazzled him…and none of it was enough to explain why Loki had found himself falling for this woman. The many excuses he’d thought up during the long days as he tried to distract himself from her memory were, in the end, bullshit. And the curses he’d been prepared to spit in the woman’s face after yet another lonely night haunted by her scent with nothing but his mind and hands to quench the burning desire? No…Loki’s intellect and foresight had not saved him from this fate.

I love her.

The knowledge isn’t new. He’s known for quite some time although the god has done anything to avoid both thinking and saying it. Nearly losing her was just the latest push in the same direction, down a path that inevitably will break [Y/N]’s heart because that’s all this cruel semi-Asgardian can offer. It’s selfish of him to covet her heart.

A broken heart is better than a dead heart, he’d thought as he chose to repay his debt the only way he could. But it hadn’t worked as intended, and while [Y/N] could ask him anything of him, Odin would be the one to deem it possible or not. One night. The request had been Loki’s even though he knew the price would be high. At least Thor had pleaded his case or the All-Father surely would have denied it without a second’s hesitation.

One night…and then what? What seemed like a great idea once has turned into a sweet nightmare which Loki has to distract himself from by doting on the Midgardian woman in the hopes that she might understand how much she has come to mean to him.

I could just tell her? They bathe together, barely speaking a word because no words will be enough anyways. He dresses [Y/N] in dark blue and silver, hoping to spare the pain it would be to see her in Loki’s own colours because there’s no way anymore that she will ever be his in this world or another…not even now as she willingly gives herself to him. Not give. No, this time the god is the one who has prayed for and received nothing short of a miracle. But the sweet satisfaction has come too late, on the very cusp of judgement.

Breakfast is brought to them, brimming with the best delicacies Asgard can offer. It’s with a feigned smile and unnatural cheerfulness that Loki speaks of his childhood when he was causing mischief in the great halls of Valhalla and more often than not pinning the suspicions on Thor. Time and time again, an honest laugh is coaxed from [Y/N] only to be snuffed prematurely as reality catches up with the game of pretence.

Their time together is brought to an end by the arrival of a dozen guards preceding Odin and Thor. Heavy manacles and chains are wrapped around Loki despite the oath he’s given. Upon [Y/N]’s life, the prison would neither struggle nor attempt to escape. His distaste of the safety measures are not for himself (he wouldn’t trust himself either), but for the pain in her eyes that never waver from him once. Thor’s by her side, a heavy hand upon the comparatively narrow shoulder as though to comfort her or keep the woman in place.

“Wait!” They’ve already marched Loki to the door when he hears her cry.

Someone must have accepted the plea, because next moment the taste of [Y/N] is on his lips once more, mingling with traces of salt.

Don't need reason, don't need rhyme Ain't nothing I would rather do

…   Reader’s PoV   …

Just like that.

You can only surmise Loki’s being brought back to the prison, but it has been more than obvious that this time there’ll be no visits. Even though the guards and Odin left now without as much as a word to explain, you can’t risk sneaking after them because Thor’s hovering around in the room that suddenly seems cold and barren. Maybe you should be comforted by his presence. At least it’s keeping you from doing some pretty stupid things that could make Loki’s situation worse. Glancing over at the blond meat-wall of a guy, you don’t feel any better.

“Lady [Y/N],” he offers lamely, an apologetic smile on his lips that does nothing to hide the pity, “do not fret…my father has not decided on the verdict yet.”

“What are the odds?” You can hear it yourself, how hollow your voice is.

Falling onto a chair, which groans under the sudden strain, even Thor seems to be at a loss for anything optimistic. “There’s a strain in the relationship between my brother and father.” No shitting. “Over the years, my word has come to way less and less. In fact…” He pins you to the ground where you stand with electric-blue eyes. “In fact you may be the best hope there is for him.”

Then we’re fucked. The odd wording of the thought makes you hesitate. It’s his freedom or worse on the line. Not yours. A year ago, there’d have been no “we” and you’d never have ended up this close to anyone, instead stayed detached enough to simply walk away without a second thought. It had been a simpler life. A lonely life. Well this is gonna be fucking lonely anyways unless I do something.

“Tell me how the justice system works here.”

Nobody's gonna mess me around Hey Satan, paid my dues

…

For three days, you and Loki are kept separate and the news on his wellbeing are close to non-existent. It’s fairly clear, how badly Thor wants to speak with you, tell you something to bring comfort. Maybe the king has made him swear to keep quiet in that respect but at least the prince compensates by giving you a crash course on Asgardian courtroom etiquette which turns out to be surprisingly simple (and prone to flaws).

Odin’s the judge. There’s no jury, save for anyone the old ruler might call upon as a sort of council. And the executioner? Anyone he points to.

At first, you make the mistake of thinking it’ll make things simpler because the way of addressing Odin as judge will be no different from the manners required when addressing him as a king, but the next second you realize that you’ll be talking to a man who’s used to complete obedience and that for all his rumoured wisdom…he will most likely be biased. This is his son. Adopted, sure, but a son nonetheless and Odin’s not forgiving towards the mistakes of his children.

Anything I say can and will – fuck! Poking at the smoldering wood in the fireplace, it seems to you like there’s no way out unless you and everyone else are willing to sweet-talk the King until his ears are dripping with honey. Loki chose to return despite the banishment, and it had been clear from the beginning that the consequences would be harsh if that were ever to happen. Idiotic god. The poker releases an eruption of sparks. Fucking, grudge-holding, semi-sadistic stepdad. At least Odin’s kind to you, treating you tenderly on the rare occasions you are together to the surprise of even Thor.

The shadows from the poker dance and dive blackly against the surrounding stones while you ponder the obvious. Why? You’re a freaking human, Midgardian, an outsider in whom the king isn’t supposed to show any particular favours or interest…except he does.

Ignoring the clatter and angry flares from the hastily discarded poker, you push to your feet and grab the nearest cloak to throw around your shoulders. Soft and dark green, it allows you to blend into the shadows as you leave the room in search of answers and limits.

I'm on the highway to hell Highway to hell

…

Considering that Asgard and the royal castle are supposed to be more or less impenetrable there sure are a lot of guards. But guards are people and people are, well, simple. Thankfully, the Asgardians don’t prove to be anymore complicated than those at home, in fact, none of the motionless figures clad in golden armour even bother to ask what you’re doing out of bed as you hurry quietly down the halls in search of set of double doors taller than a house.

When you find the entrance to the throne room, you walk by as if perfectly disinterested and only come to a halt once you’re past the corner and into a stretch of the hallway with no one in sight. Could work.

Only a few minutes have passed before the guards rush past where you’re crouched in the shadows, the catalyst a strange wail which they automatically attribute to the unusual shape in the darkness further on which they don’t know what belongs to yet, just that it’s not supposed to be there. Attention solely on the possible threat, neither guard notices the green flurry of movement that dashes away.

Why in the freaking universe do they not event big doors that don’t weigh a shit ton?! At least you only need a narrow gap to slip inside the room, back against the door to make sure it closes without a sound. A few embers in the braziers in the wall sconces cast an unnatural glow like puddles of faded heat which hardly is enough to navigate by, so you send an unspoken excuse to the designer of the castle who thought far enough to allow the natural light from outside shimmer in through impossible arches at the very top of the walls, each showing a sliver of star-spangled night sky. The room is warped in shadows and splotches of cold light to create a scene from an old photograph with the imposing throne at the far heart of it all. No longer golden but silvery it looks even bigger now and should hold your interest better than it does, but your eyes are glued to the object stretching from armrest to armrest.

It does seem too good to be true even as you finally stand before the seat. Tentatively, you reach out to brush the fingertips along the metal shaft. It’s real. Gripping the spear firmly, there’s no immediate reaction other than a shiver from the nerves you suddenly find ablaze with worry and exhilaration. Lighter than it appears, the weapon slides soundlessly through the night air as you wield Gungnir for the first time.

Probably last time too, you accept as you finally take a seat with the spear in hand. Before you are two sets of eyes belonging to predators and your only consolation is that rather than attack you, both wolves lift their heads to the ceiling and howl.

And I'm going down All the way

[pennywrithe]

KILLING ME SOFTLY a/n; requested by anonymous. a fic where Pennywise accidentally kills the reader. man. I’m so HAPPY this got requested as I’ve been waiting to do angst for a long time as it’s normally my strong suit. thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy and pls don’t hate me lmao. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

warnings: mentions of blood, child harm, death. 

Desperate, anguished wailing and roaring fills the empty space in the tunnels that connect the sewer system. Cracked, porcelain skin is decorated with specks of crimson, waves of it coat the silk material that covers his hands, the very same that are desperately trying to halt the heavy flow that escapes from his mistake, streams of blood leaking through the spaces between his fingers as it spreads like a disease. A mistake he would never forget, forgive or live with. Our Jester had never felt such a way before, is this what fear felt like? No, this was something much more awful. 

“Please.” He chokes out before his mouth splits open, a guttural scream ripping through the air as he struggles to breathe through his pain. He’s certain the air in his lungs has turned poisonous and hyperventilates as the next wave of sobbing overcomes him, his entire frame shaking like a delicate leaf in the autumn winds. This had to be a joke, a twisted prank being played on him! It was only pretend, you were only kidding around and would spring up in his arms with the laugh that he adored so much, kissing him and apologising for making him feel this way. 

To his despair, none of that came. That’s all it was, a simple mistake. The clown was starving, his thoughts going a million miles per hour as he caught scent of his next feast wandering too closely to his lair. A young, naïve one that was curious about the world but also hesitant and afraid at the same time. Sneaking up on the young one, he grabs them by the throat and takes a deep inhale as he lifts their frame up into the air, searching deeply for their deepest and darkest fear so he could really enjoy tonight’s meal. The child sobbed heavily, screaming and begging for their mother and father and asking Pennywise to release them so they could go home and see their beloved family again, a prayer that fell on deaf ears. He laughed mockingly as the child continued to call out his name repeatedly. “Pennywise!” They screamed, each sounding more angry and desperate than the last. Anger begins to boil in the blood of the performer and he extends his claws in a flash, the daggers ripping through the delicate fabric of his gloves and piercing the jugular of his victim. When the wailing sound of a child crying hits his ears, he snaps from his hunger. Now this was odd; children couldn’t scream if they were dead. Turning to face the source of the noise, excitement tingles through his body in case this means more meat to keep him going for a few extra days. Instead, he finds himself tilting his head in confusion at what his eyes fall upon and he drops the deer that got trapped in his deadlights. The very child that he was about to feast on was knocked to the floor a few feet from where his lumbering frame stood, orbs bulging out their skull with fear and a pile of vomit near them. Just as he’s about to make his approach towards them, his name enters his ears once more and the voice sounds familiar. It sounds like home. Smiling, he spins around exuberantly, ready to give you - his darling - the show of a lifetime. However, the once peppy attitude vanishes as well as his winning smile and appetite as he takes in the sight before him. A different set of thoughts run through his mind as well as an overwhelming rush of emotions. Deep shades of gold flashes in his eyes as his mouth grows larger to expose his teeth and he turns to his original meal, screaming at them to leave whilst they still can. Dropping to his knees in the dirty sewage water that spills into the creek, he crawls over to the body on the floor and delicately holds them in his arms, whispering and begging for this to not be real, for it to be a joke – an illusion.

You had been awake since the early hours of the morning and after watching the sun rise with a warm beverage, you got yourself dressed to face the decreasing temperatures before making your way to see your lover, your face going numb as the approaching winter air kissed your skin with a sting. Upon your arrival you were faced with something you never thought you’d have to witness - Pennywise eating. You weren’t completely unaware as to what he ate and how he went about it, but you pushed it far into the back of your mind and ignored it as well as you could so you could enjoy your time with the clown, but watching it happen and doing nothing about it was something you couldn’t stomach. Screaming his name, you charge over and push the child out of his grasp with all of your might but unfortunately my dear, you were the one to get caught in his crossfire. “Pennywise!” You would beg, kicking your legs and gripping tightly onto the wrist that connected the hand latched around your throat but no matter how loud you screamed, you couldn’t get through to him. The grip was getting tighter, you were losing focus and breath and you had never seen him look this way before, so desperately entertained and starved as he mocked you. The tears burn against your icy skin as they leak from your eyes as you stare into the face of the man you loved before everything stopped. Breathing got more difficult and your body was burning as it froze simultaneously, limbs and bones ached as you were dropped to the floor following the echo of a scream. Vision blurred, you look up at the changing skies of Derry. Wisps of clouds delicately shuffle their way through the atmosphere as the pale blue shines brightly – your body even warmer now as you splutter and cough. Pennywise appears in front of you and you’re uncertain as to whether you’re moving or not, too focused on the way he looks to fully notice. My darling, why do you look so sad? Weakly, you shakily lift your arm to caress his face, telling him everything will be alright but he doesn’t hear anything, he’s begging and pleading with you to not leave him and that he’s sorry. What for? You wonder; as you weren’t planning on going anywhere any time soon. Always silly that one, playing jokes and pranks you didn’t fully understand but they made you howl with delight anyway because he was so proud of them. A ghost of a smile decorates your features as you close your eyes, you’re exhausted all of a sudden. It must be from pushing that child out of the way. A blanket of comforting warmth is wrapped around you, his voice faint in your ears as you begin to lull yourself into a never-ending slumber. It wasn’t so bad though, you were so comfortable and oh so warm. Pennywise would like this, you thought. Your lover, your soul mate, the clown from another world, Pennywise. The smashing of objects isn’t heard by you as he curses the world and himself, the feeling of un-gloved hands caressing your face isn’t felt and the kiss he places against your cerulean lips isn’t returned. The jester takes a bow as the curtain drops, one last twisted laugh entering the air before he disappears with your corpse, never to be seen by the town of Derry for another twenty-seven years. A hunger like never before and a desire to plunge the town into fear coming with him.

[staticscreenwriting]

All you have to be is here - Part 7

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who has a phenomenal smile and who is way too nice to him.

I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that.

Part 7 of ?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

Please help a girl out by reblogging. Thank you ♥

Attention ! If you wanna be tagged pls send me a message or an ask it’s easier and faster for me than going through the tags of each part every time. Thank you :)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don’t have to hide, don’t have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever’s just for now We’re on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

Billy’s is perched on top of the lifeguard tower, watching people splash around in the pool. This job is an absolute drag and he can not wait for pool season to finally end. 

Tommy has decided to come around and keep him company, which is secret Tommy code for “ I fucked up again and Carol is giving me the cold shoulder “.

“ So, I haven’t seen much of you these days. Carol’s throwing a party on friday, you should come. “ 

Billy has never had a massive desire to hang out with Carol and her parties are usually pretty shit anyway. Tommy he can deal with, he’s an idiot but he’s an alright guy. Carol is just — mean, just for the sake of being mean. And being around her is pretty exhausting to be honest. 

Billy has other plans anyway.

“ Can’t. Got a date “ 

“ A date ? “ Tommy questions “ with who ? “ 

“ (Y/N) “ 

“ Oh “ 

Something about the way Tommy says oh, irks Billy. Like he wants to say more but doesn’t. There’s a negative connotation placed on the word and it makes Billy really fucking irritated.

“ What’s that supposed to mean ? “ 

“ Nothing just — “ Tommy says and raises his eyebrow in that stupid way that lets Billy know there’s more to come and he probably won’t like it “ you’re spending a lot of time with her, huh ? That something serious ? “

That’s something Billy’s been asking himself for a while now. Sex, that’s something he’s used to, that he can separate from any emotional relationships. But cuddling ? Holding hands ? Sharing a bed in a completely non sexual way ? Those things are new and he’s not sure what they mean for his relationship with (Y/N). He sure as hell isn’t gonna discuss that with Tommy of all people though.

“ That’s none of your business, amigo “ 

“ Ah don’t get defensive now. Just wondering. She seems to got you wrapped around her finger. Before you know it you’ll be getting all cozy, moving into a townhouse in loch nora, have her poppin out a few babies. Ah I can just see it, the Hargrove family. That’s a chick’s dream ain’t it  ?! “ 

Billy grows more and more uneasy with every word that leaves Tommy’s lips. He likes (Y/N), a whole lot, more than he ever liked another person. But is this what’s happening ? Is this a future they’re moving towards ? Is this really something he wants ? 

What about leaving Hawkins after graduation ? Is that sill in the cards if things with (Y/N) become serious so quickly ? What if she really wants a future much like the one Tommy has just painted ? What if she wants all the happy family stuff ? The stuff that Billy can’t give her. 

Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know how. He’s not that type of person, has never had a proper family. Billy doesn’t know the first thing about love and relationships and family. How is he gonna built a future on that foundation ? 

(Y/N) deserves so much more than what he can give and it scares him to think about it.

“ Hey Tommy, how about you shut the fuck up ? “ 

Maybe it’s time to have a talk with (Y/N). The talk. The “what are we “ talk. Thing is, talking is not something Billy is particularly good at. So he’ll just take his girl on a good date and see where things go.

His girl. His girl ? 

It’s friday and the clock in his car says 9:02 and Billy hates himself. He’s not supposed to be here, speeding down the winding streets of Huckley, ACDC blasting from his stereo. He’s not supposed to be here in an old black shirt with more holes in it than he can count and with a bouquet of wilting squashed up flowers resting on his passengers seat as a silent reminder of the one thing he will never be good at — romance.

The plan was to pick (Y/N) up from work, have dinner at the Moonlight diner next to the drive in, then see a movie and maybe, maybe if he was real lucky she’d ask him to come back to her place and if he was extra super lucky she’d let him make her cum again

Fact is, he’s two hours late and when he’d arrived at the restaurant they told him she had already left. 

It’s not his fault that he’s late, it really isn’t. The thing is, he should’ve known better. That good things don’t work out for Billy Hargrove, that plans never work out for him either.

Not as long as Neil still has a say in his life.

Of course Max wasn’t home on time and of course Billy was the one being blamed for it. The one responsible for finding her and bringing her home.

“ As soon as your sister is home safe and sound you can go running off with whatever hussy you want to, for all I care. But you better bring your sister home first. “ 

Billy wanted to punch him so desperately then. Just one hit, right in his snarl. Right in the middle of his mean face. Thinking about it, Billy wonders if he’s ever seen his dad smile. A real smile. 

If so, he can’t remember it.

So instead of picking up (Y/N) from work, he drove around all of Hawkins to find his sister, who once again wasn’t where she said she was going to be. It took him an entire hour to locate her and drive her home.

It took another half an hours drive to Huckley, even with his leadfoot. By then he was sure (Y/N) wasn’t at her workplace anymore. There was a flicker of hope in his heart, that maybe she was at the restaurant waiting for him. Eating breadsticks and drinking cherry cokes and waiting for him to show up.

She wasn’t though. She’d been there but had left after spending an hour and a half all by herself. The waiter had told him so with one of those ugly tight lipped smiles. Those that pity you and yet they’re quite fond of your misery.

So what is there left to do ? Leave and forget about tonight. Forget about the date and the restaurant and — well, forget about the girl as well.

But he can’t do that, can he ? Not after everything. Not after all he’s shared and all she let him know. 

He wants her in his life though. It seems — easier. Life seems easier when she’s around. Lighter. Happier.

So what else can he do ? 

Grovel. 

Billy Hargrove, doesn’t usually grovel. He doesn’t ask for forgiveness either. Billy is reckless and selfish and careless. But there’s a part of him, one he kinds of likes, one that’s only recently come to light. One that thinks sometimes there are things worth fighting for.

And that part grovels. It asks for forgiveness and swallows it’s pride because the alternative is losing (Y/N) and that’s not something he wants to even think about.

So all that’s left is hoping that she forgives him. That there’s a part of her that wants to keep him in her life. That thinks he’s worth it even though, heaven knows, he’s not. 

He’s picked up some chinese food on the way to her place. One might call it a peace offering, Billy honestly just wants to make sure she’s getting some good food after all. Even if it isn’t some fancy restaurant. Really, anything’s better than her cooking. 

An unfamiliar sense of dread is rushing through his system. He’s been trying to hard to be enough. To do things right. Or at least what society seems to think is right. 

God, he hates feeling like this. Like disappointing (Y/N). He knows nothing he ever does is good enough for Neil and it seems he wasn’t good enough for his mom either, but (Y/N) honestly made him feel like he had a chance. Like he isn’t all bad. To realize he might’ve fucked this up, scares him shitless. 

As he walks up to her apartment, plastic bag from the china place in one hand and a sad sad bouquet of flowers in the other, his feet feel incredibly heavy. He never usually feels like this when he’s here. This has become a place that makes him feel comfortable and safe and — happy. 

He wants to go back to that, oh god he wishes he can. 

As he knocks on her door, for a moment he wants her not to open it, to just ignore him. Maybe that would be better than seeing her disappointed face. Than hearing her confirm what he’s always known. That he doesn’t deserve her and that he’s fucked up once again.

But she does answer the door, dressed in a big sweater and sleeping shorts and she looks — happy.

“ Look I’m s — “ 

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence as in the matter of a moment her arms are thrown around his middle, pulling him into the apartment and as close to her as possible. 

“ Thank god, you’re okay “ she mumbles against his chest. 

“ Uh, yeah. “ 

“ Billy, “ she says and pulls her face away to look up at him. There’s so much worry in her eyes. Worry but also relieve. Did she honestly worry about him ? About HIM ? 

“ I thought something happened. I was so worried. I just — I don’t have a phone number so I couldn’t even call you and even then, would you have been at home if something had happened ? No. So I — I’m just so relieved. “ 

In that moment he wants to hold her as tight as possible and never ever let her go. This girl puts so much trust in him, her first thought wasn’t “ oh Billy the asshole is ditching me” her first thought was “ something must’ve happened “. She worried about him, genuinely worried something wasn’t right.

He does not deserve that trust, not with the way he was and the way he still is. It’s a responsibility, an expectation he’s afraid he can never meet. 

But god, it feels so good. And the selfish part of him yells louder than the rest, telling him to enjoy it while it lasts.

“ I’m alright. “ He confirms and places a soft kiss on her head. Her hair is so soft and smells so comfortingly of lavender. She smells and feels like home if ever Billy knew what that word meant. “ Sorry the date was shit. I had to go find Max then bring her home and dad was just being an asshole as usual. I am — “ he takes her face in between his hands “ — so sorry. “ 

Billy Hargrove isn’t sorry about a lot of things.

He is genuinely sorry now.

A slow smile pulls at the corner of (Y/N) lips “ did you bring food ? “ she asks, eyebrow raised. 

Her face is squished between the sad flowers and the handles of the plastic bag containing the food containers and Billy thinks she looks adorable. 

“ I did “ 

Smiles come so effortlessly to him when she’s around. Sometimes he feels them creeping up on him and sometimes they catch him by surprise but he never has to fake them. (Y/N) just make them appear on his face. Like magic. 

He lets go of her and walks towards the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter and pulling out the cartons. “ I didn’t know what you wanted so I got a shit ton of stuff, hope there’s something there you like. “

She doesn’t answer and after a moment Billy’s eyes wander up to see what’s going on. But she just stands there, looking at him all soft eyes and kind smile and she’s leaning against the doorway all effortlessly beautiful and unbothered and he thinks he might faint by the way she makes his heart beat in his chest and takes his breath away. She does it all by doing absolutely nothing. By just being herself.

He wonders if she feels it too. He hopes she feels it too.

“ What ? “ 

“ This feels very domestic. I like it. I like you being here. I — I really like you Billy Hargrove. “ 

It’s not that he doesn’t know what to say in reply. There’s a thousand things he wants to say. Only they don’t come out easy, they never had to come out before. This entire situation is a first for him. So he keeps the words in and waits for another moment when he feels ready to say them. He just smiles and throws her a wink “ You like Kung Pao chicken ? “

“ Why are all these parents absolute dickheads ? “ (Y/N) asks, taking a last bite of her spring roll while pointing at the TV “ Tina’s mom is shit, Nancy’s mom is — drunk ? And her dad looks like a Ken doll but that’s irrelevant. They’re all so dumb“ .

Billy loves to listen to her ramble. She does it with the same passion, the same excitement that’s always present in everything she does. She exudes an aura of euphoria. Of wonder. Of magic.

“ Oh yeah, because we have such a good track record when it comes to parents, huh ? “ 

She considers his words for a moment before giving him a shrug in agreement “ Guess you’re right. “ 

She’s cuddled into his side as Nightmare on Elm Street plays on the small tv in her living room. This feels like it should be, it feels right and that terrifies Billy to the core. This feels too good to be true. 

“ So, what did you initially plan for our date ?. I mean after dinner. “ (Y/N) questions, looking up at him through her beautiful eyes.

“ Wanted to take you to see a movie at the drive in. Maybe a scary one so I could’ve held you when you got too scared. Like a real gentleman I’d drive you home, kiss you a little. Maybe make out a little, maybe you’d invite me up … ? “ 

“ Make out, huh ? “ 

“ mmh. Would’ve been the makeout of your life. “ 

“ Oh really, huh. Well Mr. Hargrove let me tell you something. I don’t need a fancy diner with burgers that cost 15 bucks. I don’t particularly like drive ins because the sound is shit and people are dumb. Watching a movie on my couch and pigging out on chinese food is a pretty sweet date in my book. I like ir and I think this is a great date. Even with the flowers looking the way they do. I really really like it. “ 

“ You do ? “ 

“ I really do. Now how about that makeout ? Let me judge that for myself ? “ 

“ Oh baby, “ he says and cups her face “ you have no idea what you’re up for. Makeout of your life, I promise “ .

She pulls him closer by his shirt and connects their lips in a soft kiss, growing needier with every motion. He wants her closer. Closer. Needs her closer. Needs more.

Kissing her feels soft and warm and comfortable. He loves kissing her. It sends electric currents through his body, shivers of excitement. They’re not sexual though, not entirely. It’s more. There’s more when he’s kissing her and it both excites and terrifies him.

For a moment they get swallowed by a feeling of pure and unfiltered bliss. It’s all consuming, tinting their worlds in hues of reds and pinks and all that matter is the two of them. Just them caught in a bubble, forgetting about the world outside and getting lost in their kisses.

Though after a moment, the bubble pops, the wave crashes and the magic vanishes and life is life again. Oh how Billy wishes he could’ve stayed in the moment forever. To kiss her forever.

As they pull away, (Y/N) looks in his eyes and there it is again, this perpetual radiancance. Her hands are softly brushing the curls away from his face before she places some gentle kisses on his cheeks. It’s these moments of affection and being close that he cherishes to dearly. Those feel new, like nothing he’s ever experienced before.

If only he could allow himself to hold on to them.

“ Are you gonna stay the night ? “ she asks, hope swaying in her words.

“ Might as well “ Billy replies as kisses her one more time before getting off the couch.

There’s a little red adidas duffle bag in his car, hidden beneath the passenger seat. It’s been there ever since he’s gotten the Camaro. Ever since he first took off for the night. Just him, the duffle bag and that awful black eye.

It’s there for emergencies, when he can’t go home before school but things are — bad. Teachers start asking questions when you come to school in the same clothes 4 days in a row and not brushing your teeth is nasty.

So Billy keeps the bag filled with clothes and a toothbrush, deodorant and some extra cologne. 

“ Let me just go grab my stuff from the car “ he says, already turning towards the door, when a hand reaches out and holds onto his arm.

“ Actually — “ (Y/N) says then rushes towards the bathroom. When she comes back she holds out her hands and it takes a moment for Billy to realise what it is she’s presenting him here. That’s until he DOES realise and his heart sinks to his stomach.

It’s a toothbrush. 

“ So, I uh — I just thought that you always dragging your bag from the car to my place to the car, over and over again is kinda exhausting so I got you a toothbrush you can leave here. If you want I can clear some space in my wardrobe for some of your clothes “

She’s so hopeful. So so hopeful.

Tommy’s words come back, echoing around Billy’s mind and taunting him. 

This is the first step into a future he so desperately wants to be able to give to her. One he can never see himself in. On he doesn’t deserve.

“ Billy are you o — “ 

He grabs his jacket from the back of the couch, fumbling around for his keys. “ I gotta go. I gotta go “ he murmurs over and over again. 

She wants to keep him around, wants him here. She allows him to be a part of her life. Significant. Important. She trusts him to stay around. 

He can’t fuck this up but he will. He always does. Maybe this is his superpower. Billy Hargrove also known as Mr. Fuckup, superpower: ruining everything.

(Y/N) deserves more than that. She deserves a good life in a pretty house with a pretty dog and pretty kids. She deserves so much better than him. So much more. He can’t even take her on a fucking date. Not even one single date.

“ I gotta go “ 

“ What do you mean you gotta go ?” 

There’s so many voices in his head talking over one another. All taunting. All teasing. 

 You’re a disgrace, Billy. You are never gonna amount to anything, Pussy. That’s a chick’s dream, ain’t it ? 

Neil's voice, Tommy’s voice. Billy’s own voice. 

And they’re all calling out to him listing all the insecurities he’s ever felt cursing through him.

A chick’s dream, huh ? An emotional wreck that never learned how to deal with his feelings in a healthy way. Afraid of commitment because he’s afraid of rejection, of loss. 

That’s a full on dream guy if he’s ever seen one. God he’s so pathetic.

It’s like his body is working on auto pilot and he only regains complete control again once he’s back in the camaro.

So much for talking eh? He couldn’t even bare to look at her. To see her face as she realises what an asshole he really is. To see disappointment in her eyes. To see sadness. All of which he himself put there.

Yeah Billy, you do what you always do. What you do best.

Just fucking bolt. That’s brave. So brave.

It pains him that the voice calling out the loudest, is his own.

The job of a lifeguard has quite a few disadvantages. 

You have to boil in the sun while everyone else gets to enjoy the cool water of the pool.

You mostly sit around on your ass all day doing nothing but getting a sunburn

You have to work long hours when others get to enjoy their summer break.

It’s a shitty job all around, Billy is the first to admit it. He hates the job. There are some things about it though, that he enjoys quite a bit. 

He gets to yell at kids all day long

He has a set of keys for the property.

Billy’s always felt a certain kind of freedom and liberation whenever he was in the water. Ever since he was little, the beach was his favorite place. When you’re out in the ocean, riding a wave, nothing matters but the here and now. Only him and the water. No Neil, no troubles, no fears. 

Just him and the wave.

There’s no waves here and no ocean and no salty breeze. But when the pool is closed and he’s the only one around, sometimes he gets into the water and closes his eyes and lets himself drift on the surface. It never feels like home but sometimes it helps him remember what home felt like. 

As he floats slowly around the pool in his boxers, looking up at the stars, he tries so hard to remember home. The liberation. The freedom. 

He can’t thought because lately home wasn’t that. Lately home was (Y/N).

There’s a weight deep inside him like as if he swallowed a bunch of stones. It’s a horrible feeling, an all consuming sense of dread. He shouldn’t have left just because it scared him that she cared. He should’ve let her.

But what then ? What if what they have is only temporary. Good things don’t last for Billy why should this be any different ? Good things never last. The trust she puts in him, the affection, he deserves none of it. Never did. Probably never will.

“ Hey asshole “ a voice calls out to him through the sapphire blue of the night.

The lights around the pool, illuminate her like some kind of heavenly goddess. An angel walking barefoot across the ugly cold cement floor of the Hawkins community pool. 

Billy swims towards the edge of the pool, as (Y/N) plops down letting her feet dangle into the water. 

“ How’d you know I was here ? “ 

(Y/N) shrugs. “ I didn’t. I knew you weren’t gonna go home but I couldn’t find you at the diner and so I drove around Hawkins trying to spot your car somewhere. It’s a bit flashy, I gotta tell you. “ 

She was looking for him. No one’s ever been out looking for him before. He’s the one doing that usually. For Max. For mom …

Billy is always the one searching never the one being searched for. Never the one being found.

“ Why ? “ 

“ What do you mean, why ? “ (Y/N) asks and leans back on her hands “ you just left with no explanation. That’s not how things work with me. “ 

“ Well tough luck because that’s the one thing I’m good at, other than sex. So you’ll have to get used to the running . “ 

“ Or you’ll have to learn to let people care about you, you stubborn fuck. “ 

Every time she swears she gets infinitely hotter to Billy, why ? He has no idea but there’s something about this pretty girl swearing that makes for a perfectly chaotic anomaly. 

What shocks him though, is that she so clearly, so effortlessly sees behind his walls and defence and gets right to the bare bones of it all. His inability to let people care about him because he care so little about himself. Because no one ever really did.

“ Yeah, I know what it feels like. Billy, I probably understand better than most people. “ 

“ What you want — “ he chokes out “ what you deserve, is more than anything I can give you. Just figured it’s easier to get out now before — “ 

“ Before what ? “ 

“ You know “ 

“ Say it ! “ 

He takes a breath. The words are tingling at tongue just asking to be spoken. Like a whole package of pop rocks popping and sizzling.

“ Before I fall in love with you “.

A silence settles upon them though Billy is sure they can hear his heart beat all the way over to Indianapolis. It’s beating so loud. So hard. He can feel it about to burst out of his chest.

“ Before you fall in love with me.” he adds “ I’m gonna fuck up eventually and I don’t want to pull you into the mess. “

“ That’s my decision to make, Billy. You don’t get to make that one for me. “ 

“ I don’t — I don’t deserve you caring so much. “ 

“ Well shit man I do anyway. Maybe no one ever told you this or no one ever made you feel it, but Billy — you don’t have to earn love. Or affection. Or care. People give it because they want to, because you mean something to them. Let me love you. Because I do. I — I’m like 95% sure I’m in love with you and It’s so scary. You literally just walked into my life and at first I thought you were the worst and your hair is stupid. You’re not the worst though, not even close. “ 

“ What about my hair ? “ 

“ Still stupid “ 

He has to laugh. Because what else is there to do. What do you do when someone tells you they love you ? What do you do when you love them back ?

“ I never thought I could get so attached to someone so quickly and all my strong female instincts tell me to be careful and to not let myself fall too fast too quick. I’ve known you for a few weeks now and I — I feel like you’ve been all that was missing from my life for so long. It’s scary. It’s so scary.I know life isn’t a fucking fairytale and I am terrified of this crashing and burning but I — life gives me so few good things, I need to keep them close. I need to let myself feel them. “ 

Billy pushes himself up on the edge of the pool to be eye-level with (Y/N), hands placed firmly on the concrete floor.

She softly takes his face in her hands and brushes the wet strands out of his eyes.

“ I don’t need fancy dates and flowers and holding hands. I just want what we have to stay. That feeling of belonging. Of understanding each other. Of home. I like us together. I love us together. What we have that’s — good and it’s pure and — “ 

“ The sex is fantastic “ 

“ The sex is really fucking great yeah “ she says and chuckles through her tears “ We don’t have to think about the future, that’s so far away. I just wanna feel like home with you for as long as life lets us. Let me love you, sad boy “ 

Billy carefully, almost as if he fears breaking her, places his lips on hers. Maybe this is worth the anxiety and the fear. If he gets to feel like he’s feeling right now, safe and appreciated and warm and — loved. Maybe if this can stay, it’s worth the fear of losing it. 

Maybe being afraid of losing something isn’t so bad. 

Maybe it means you care. You love. 

Maybe it means that some things do matter.

Billy pulls back and looks deep in her eyes “ You know what ? “ 

“ What ? “ 

“ I think you’re way too dry right now “ 

“ Huh ? “ 

Before she can really think about his words, Billy has pushed himself out of the pool and swoops her up in his arms, taking a few steps back before breaking into a sprint and jumping into the cool water of the swimming pool.

He can feel her laughter vibrate against his chest. God, he wants to stay in this moment forever. Just them and the night and the unfiltered, untainted bliss of being young and in love. With a person. A feeling. With life.

As the water surrounds them, Billy opens his eyes and looks at her through a blurry vision. And just like that, he remembers. What it feels like to be one with the ocean, to forget all your problems and live for this one single moment when life seems easy. Light. Happy.

He remembers what home feels like.

The moon shines down on the two as they swim around pool, splashing each other and  getting lost in themselves and their kisses. In the unshakable truth that home is not a place but a person. A feeling of belonging. 

Taglist:

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