#not wanting to go anywhere or do anything and so my body just absolutely saps me of energy and UGH

[ranger-kellyn]

Hhhhhhhh I need to get up and go out for my nature walk but I Do Not want to and UGH 🫠

[awkwardtickleetoo]

Wake up brain has come up with a semi Halloween concept

So I was reminiscing with a cousin about our field of screams trip last year and I remembered how the scare actors have real chainsaws without the chain on them so when they touch you with it it just vibrates (it vibrates a fuck ton, I've experienced it more than once, you can feel it in like your whole body) I went to bed and got reminded of that scene in TCM where Letherface hangs Morgan from a chandelier (I think) and cuts him in half. Which lead to the dream sequence of Sapnap making Dream help him build a haunted house because he's tall and Dream obviously hating every second so at some point, Sapnap wraps his hands in rope (or something) and hooks his hands on a beam or hook which dangles him to the point where he can only slightly get one toe on the floor. He then gets the chainsaw, makes a show of revving it up in the dark before just pressing the vibrating machinery against his tummy and watching him go berserk from every spot being attacked from the inside

happy halloween everyone <3 hope everyone is having a great october <3333

but anyway i. love this so much. i love the trope of a lee having their arms tied to something above them, especially for the dream team, its just such a good vulnerable position for them and they’d be so helpless and 🥰🥰

imagine the fight too oh my god?? sapnap would have to be Smart with it, bc he knows if he’s not dream would just get out of it in an instant and either run away or take his revenge right then and there, and sapnap would rather die than have to suffer the same fate, absolutely not, no thank you.

so he sets up a plan: he tells dream he needs help hanging the rope bc he wants to use it on george later in the day, a lie he knows will be convincing, and dream is more than happy to help. so sapnap gets the stepladder to be closer to the beam in the ceiling that he’s attaching it to, and he has dream hold the rope with his arms straight up in the air, one end dangling down to the floor and the other held by sap as he wrapped it around the beam three, four, five times, before tying the excess in an triple knot to the part above dream’s hands to secure it fully to the beam.

he pulls on it himself, then slides his hands down to the dangling section while he tells dream to pull on it too, making sure it’s secure, and then suddenly, completely out of nowhere, he begins wrapping the rope around dream’s wrists, in a figure eight shape so it’s extra tight and secure, and dream nearly jumps out of his skin with how hard he immediately starts pulling and fighting back. he screams obscenities at sapnap, asking what the fuck he’s doing, what’s wrong with him, to “fucking stop, sapnap, let me go, what the fuck, i’m gonna kill you”, anything he can think of while he’s straining against the rope and twisting his wrists, trying to kick the legs of the ladder sapnap is on or kick his ankles or anything like that, but he doesn’t get anywhere, and eventually the 6 and a half feet of leftover rope is secured around dream’s wrists and tied around the existing knot near the beam.

dream’s breathing heavily already, yanking and pulling at his arms and shifting on his feet as sapnap calmly gets off the ladder and moves it to the side, looking up to admire his work. dream looks down at him like a hurt puppy, fear and confusion on his face as he asks sapnap “what the fuck????” one more time, but sap just smiles and walks over to the pile of other decorations. dream has to turn around to see what he’s doing, struggling against his binding to do so, and he sees him emerge with the vibrating chainsaw and almost passes out. the interaction goes as follows.

“no.”

“i have to see if it works if we wanna use it later”

“i’m going to kill you with my bare hands”

“i can’t imagine that would be easy for you right now”

“fuck you???”

(smug ass smile) “yeah. sure <3”

and then the chainsaw revs, dream’s heart nearly drops out of his ass, he’s protesting and squirming and fighting every step of the way to get away from his inevitable fate, and then sapnap pressed the vibrating saw blade right into the side of his stomach, pressing perfectly into his hip bone, his tummy, the spot just above the waistline of his pants, and dream swears he could’ve screamed loud enough to sound like he was in an actual horror movie

his entire body tenses up, his hands shaking as they pull as hard as they can, until he goes almost completely limp apart from squirming, shaking his head, shifting on his feet, falling into helpless laughter as sap presses in harder, switching spots, getting his tummy, his ribs, his other hip bone, pressing it flat across his back at one point and making him squeal and arch so far forward he had to stand on his tippy toes.

pretty quickly tho, he stops, knowing dream has had enough and not wanting to make too big of a deal about his idea, only meaning for it to be harmless fun that leaves dream giddy and squirmy for a few minutes before they continue setting up. he puts the chainsaw away, after two more victorious revs of the motor that make him and dream both laugh at the ridiculousness, and he stands on his toes in front of dream to untie the knot holding his wrists in place. seconds later, he’s free, leaving the rope dangling to the floor and still secured to the beam

(for later use, dream reminds sapnap, and he’s not entirely sure who he means in that moment)

he takes dream’s wrists in his hands and presses a soft kiss to each one, his thumbs rubbing the red marks that were left from the scratchy rope soothingly, and dream smiles and pulls him into a hug, his body letting go of the leftover tingly feeling from the tickles. his face is still flushed pink and the smile on his face seems permanent, but he feels calm enough to admit it was kind of fun

and, well… if they walk george through their creations later, showing him every decoration and detail and giving him the full “immersive experience” as they call it… then maybe that’s an extra bonus.

but don’t you worry, the rope got more than two uses in the end <3

[leffee]

More headcannons on your son?

My Vinnie son!! :D

his absolute least favourite season is winter, he hates it with a passion, it's not up to discussion. It has good sides, he can admit it, but the cons outweight the pros greatly in his opinion. With that vague "colder body temperature" disease I gave him, it's way too cold for him most of the time, while normally he gets sick rarely, during winter he gets sick bad approximately every other week and not for 2 days either; it's slippery outside which with his clumsiness is a terrible combinations, not to mention that all of that saps all the energy out of him. He wants to go out, especially with his friends, but honestly he'd much rather wait the winter out at home

besides his hair, his body part he looks after the most are his feet. However, while he cares about his hair completely willingly, he was forced to do the same with his feet. The story is this: he dances a lot, right? He might not be good at it but he does like it. And while dancing you work a lot on your feet and strain them. At one point, he realized that his feet were in a pretty bad state, but being himself he didn't want to do anything about it at first. Eventually though, it came to the point when they really started hurting him, felt tired and had blisters. Not willing to endure it anymore he bought some stuff and ever since then he's been taking good care of them. Damn, that's a lot of talk about Vinnie feet. Damn

it's not normally visible, but somewhere in his hair he has 6 bobby pins, and yes, they are supposed to represent his friends so he can "take" them anywhere. Each one he got from each of them. From some of them he already had had one before getting this idea that he borrowed and didn't give back because they didn't really care about getting it back cause it's just a bobby pin. From those he didn't have one when he came out with this, he simply asked if they could give him a bobby pin. And so they did, until he got one from each of them and started wearing them

he's hyper aware whenever going up or down the stairs because he fell down on them so many times he expects it to happen every time. He's not afraid of falling or getting hurt in general, but it simply happened so much that his consciousness "generously" granted him the habit of focusing only on stairs when on them. Don't talk to him when doing that, he's not going to register that anyway

he can turn both his feet almost 180 degrees so they face backwards (ok, it's actually more like 160 or so, but 180 sounds better and appeals more to the imagination). He can't walk like that but it's a cool party trick. Well, to some it's cool, others think it's gross but perhaps impressive most of the time. It's hard to find anything about this on internet so idk if it's due to lack of some joints or maybe some doubled cartilages but he has whatever that is

this might one of my more random headcanons, but he writes in cursive. Also while we're at it, have I ever said he's left-handed? I might have but I don't remember now. He is

remember when I said he likes Zoe's taste in music? He also likes her own songs a lot, and will, sometimes unconciously, hum or sing them to himself, especially when alone and doing something he doesn't need to focus on too much. The sort of taking a shower or brushing his hair, and he will sing "Not every star is in the sky" or "The Fire Hydrant Song" to himself absent-mindedly

him and Pepper give each other stupid gifts on Valentine's day, acting like they are madly in love with each other, but in such mocking and overdramatic way it's obvious they're just acting. For example, Pepper will kneel on one knee before Vinnie with a McDonald's box, open it, and there will be heart-shaped chicken nuggets inside, then say "I-it's not like I like you, baka! X( But I got you this gift uwu". Next, Vinnie will gasp dramatically and way louder than needed, clutch his shirt near his heart, and pretend to wipe tears "P-Pepper-chan, this is the best gift I ever got!".

whenever he wants to hang out with Sunil but for some reason Sunil can't but is still in his house, in a world where they live right next to each other (because I'm not too sure if I like them living right next to each other or not) Vinnie simply opens his window wide and will bend over it "miserably" and hang like that, and yes, Sunil can see that from one window in his house. Vinnie can stand like that for hours, it's genuinely not an attempt to make Sunil invite him over out of pity or anything, he gets that he might be busy, but that's just him showing his sadness over this. A bit overdramatic maybe. The first time Sunil saw that he just simply smiled sympathetically at first, but then got busy and once he finished 3 hours later, he walked next to the window overlooking Vinnie's house, not even thinking that Vinnie would be still there so he wasn't looking. However, from the corner of his eye he caught Vinnie doing just that and had to double-check to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was. At first he thought that maybe Vinnie took a break and at some point came back but nope, he was there the entire time

he's like the opposite of Minka in this one way at least, because while Minka's scared of small spaces, he personally really likes them, there's something comforting about being squeezed and/or surrounded from every side. Basically, he liked being squeezed, it's nicer when it's hugs and all, but tight spaces are really great too. Fun fact it that there was a period of time when I actually gave him claustrophobia, just way less severe than Minka's but nah, I'm over this headcanon, now he likes it. It's true in some other universe

Idk how to end it, so have a picrew image I made of my beloved

He looks absolutely silly

[ohwowimlonley]

Harry Potter nsfw alphabet

Warnings - sub!harry, dom!reader, humiliation, praise

Notes - gonna be doing these for every character on my character list! If there’s anyone you guys desperately wanna see then let me know through my ask box and I’ll put a rush on it!

Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Harry is very panicky after sex, he always worries he’s done something wrong even though he isn’t rough with you. He’d shush you, brush stray hairs away from your forehead, wrap you up in his arms and allow the both of you to calm down. After that, along with a few mumbled words of praise, he’d let you tell him what you needed help with. He’d follow your every word to the letter, anything he could do to help you out.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

On you? He absolutely adores your tits. It doesn’t matter the size or shape- he just loves to touch them. He’s so needy for them, all the time. Sometimes, he’d just lay there, head between your tits and bathing in your warmth. On him? He doesn’t really like to admit it but he loves his thighs. More specifically, he loves when you grind yourself on his thigh. He loves it when you use him for your own pleasure, telling him to tense and let go, bossing him around.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry does what he’s told. Anywhere you let him cum is a privilege, so he doesn’t complain when he doesn’t get to cum where he wants. He does cum a lot though, ropes and ropes of milky white cum landing wherever you let him.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Harry really likes it when you play with his balls. It makes him really embarrassed so he never really asks for you to do it. When you discover this little kink and try it out, it’s safe to say he doesn’t last long.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Harry never really had a lot of time to have girlfriends or boyfriends, and when he did he was too awkward to do anything past heavy petting. So, he’s an amazing kisser but you’d have to teach him everything else (which is good, because he’s an amazing learner)

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

He takes whatever you’re willing to give him, but he does have a preference for you riding him. He doesn’t make you do any of the work; he holds you up by your hips and rabbits into you, watching with dazed eyes as your tits bounce in time.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He does have an occasional giggly moment, yeah. It mostly happens when he gets his head stuck in his shirt or a leg of his glasses tangled in his hair. Other than that, though, he’s usually too absorbed in the feeling of you touching him to think about laughing.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn’t really do a whole lot of grooming, but he keeps himself tidy enough. There’s a mostly neat little patch of curly, dark hair just below his happy trail ending just before his length begins.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Harry is such a lil sap :( he loves to hold hands w you and tell you how much he loves you, mumbles it through tears when you’re riding him

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Harry doesn’t touch himself unless you let him. It makes him really needy, sometimes, but it just makes him all the more sensitive when you decide to touch him.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

- Praise kink (obviously, he loves to know when he’s being a good boy for you and it makes him melt every time

- Oral fixation kink (stick a finger in his mouth while riding him and he’ll be putty in your hands I promise)

- Humiliation kink (I have this image in my head of having a needy little Harry begging for your attention at a party, face going all red when you make him rut into your hand in front of all his friends while you make fun of his leaking cock)

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Again, he does what he’s told. Sometimes, if he asks really nicely then you’ll let him fuck you over a desk in an empty classroom (though you’d tease him the whole time about how he’s such a slut for fucking you where anyone could see)

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Pretty much any time you touch him tbh. He’s a good boy about it, though, so most of the time he keeps himself in check in public and when you’re busy.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Harry doesn’t like to hurt you. He doesn’t grip on you hard enough to leave bruises, doesn’t restrain your hands and he’d never slap you anywhere on your body. Small hickeys are okay, he thinks they look rather pretty sometimes but it’d never go further than that without talking about it a lot.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

While he does really really love to slip his tongue between your folds, he’s also a sucker for your mouth on him. The best solution for this would probably be for you to climb on top of him, wrap your lips around his tip and let him lean up and lick away all your juices.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He usually prefers to keep it slow and drive himself in deeper so he can feel all the sensations of your gummy walls clinging to him.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Harry actually quite likes a quickie every now and then. Not all the time, because he loves to spend as much time as possible with you, but he’ll take it in a pinch. It is quite exciting for him, fucking you as fast as he can before someone catches onto the fact you’re both late to Transfigurations and there are suspicious sounds coming from a small storage cupboard.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to do anything as long as you are, and as long as there’s no possible way of him hurting you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Harry never really lasts very long, on account of “you’re just so pretty and you feel so good around me,” but he’s willing to go as many rounds as you want him to, until he’s cumming dry for you.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t really like toys too much. If he knows he won’t see you for a while, he’ll ask very nicely if he can get himself a little fleshlight to use with your permission but other than that he’s perfectly content with no toys.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Harry doesn’t dare tease you for fear of punishment. When he does, it isn’t on purpose, he’s just naturally beautiful and it’s not his fault he’s relentlessly pretty.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not really very loud a lot, a few whimpers and whines here and there, but he’s mostly too dazed out of his mind to do anything other than stare up at you in awe.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Thinking about cockwarming w Harry. Him just needing the comfort hug of your tight walls around him and you bathing in his bashful compliments of “thank you baby, love you so much, feels so good,”

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Harry’s not very big, maybe six and a half inches but he’s quite thick and knows just how to use it to his advantage.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not a very high sex drive, so he doesn’t often initiate sex but sometimes you turn him on beyond belief and he’s forced to follow you around like a lost puppy dog, begging you to let him fuck you.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He waits for you to sleep first, watching as you relax more and more as you fall into a deeper sleep. It’s only after he’s sure you’re safely asleep that he allows himself to submit into rest.

[darthmaulification]

savage opress NSFW alphabet

A/N: finally! i got this finished!!

*pounds chest* me love big zabrak man!!! and i am in 100% support for soft!savage so y’all are gonna see a ton of that here. 💀 

also, i had to do so much mental math with this one because savage is so darn tootin’ tall (7ft 1in, from what i’ve read) that relating his you-know-what’s size relative to him was ✨challenging✨ but also 😳🥴🥵💦 if ya know what i mean.

and i mention the maul nsfw alphabet i wrote a couple of times in here, so go check that one out for more clarification on a few points if you feel so inclined. 😊💕

nfsw below the cut! 😘

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

Savage is always a bit unsure of himself in how he cares for others, but his aftercare is immaculate. Every time, there’s this brief window of Post Coital Cuddles where he just holds you in his arms and purrs like there’s no tomorrow, and I mean like near full body vibrations, he’s purring so damn hard and loud. More often than not, this is usually the part where Savage passes out, usually he’s too darn sleepy to finish the rest of the aftercare. However, if he does manage to keep his eyes moment for a few minutes longer, Savage kisses you all over, asks you what you need, and will get the job done in the most tender and sweet way possible.

B = body part (what’s their favorite body part of their partner? what about themselves?)

Savage is a sap and would say that all of you is his favorite, and honestly mean it. He thinks that you and your body are nothing but perfect, all of it. He’ll compliment you with the utmost sincerity, telling you just how beautiful you are whenever and wherever. Savage loves to look at you, to feel you, to worship you. He enjoys all of the squishier parts of you especially, whether that be your thighs, tummy, ass, breasts, etc etc. He loves that you’re so soft compared to him.

However, for as much as he’s able to see the beauty in others, Savage has trouble seeing the beauty in himself. He feels like a monster most of the time, feels like he’s been deformed by his enhancements. It’s not easy for him to choose a favorite part of his body, because he honestly doesn’t like his body. So, you’ll have to coax him into learning to love himself, which isn’t and won’t be easy, but Savage needs to learn that he is allowed and has earned the right to treat himself with love. This will lead to whatever your favorite part of him to be his favorite, whatever that may be.

C = cum (basically anything to do with cum)

Savage cums buckets. Like... an ungodly amount of nut. It’s thick, white, and Maker, it is virile. His sperm count is off the fucking charts, and he knows it. Savage makes sure to cum inside you every time, unless you specifically ask him not to. He pushes balls deep, up to the hilt, and lets loose inside you, absolutely coating your walls in sticky, creamy white. It’s usually so much that the moment he pulls out, it literally spills out of you, and something about that sight has Savage genuinely horny all over again. If it’s okay with you, because he always asks before he does anything, Savage will push it back in with a couple fingers.

D = dirty secret (what’s their dirty secret?)

... Okay, so be nice to him... Savage has a Mommy kink. It’s nothing too crazy, but it’s definitely there. He wants to call you to Mommy, listen to everything you say and tell him to do, be your “Good boy”. Honestly, it’s enough if you just call him the name, if you’re not comfortable with the title, and if you’re his gentle femdom (he would literally worship you). 

Thing is, he might never tell you this because it embarrasses him beyond belief, like cripplingly embarrassing, and he doesn’t know how you’ll react if he told you.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

To be honest, Savage has had no experience. Mostly, it’s because he was raised in an environment where he was taught that his purpose in life was only fighting, so he was never given/had the opportunity of sex. He never had the chance to explore that avenue with another person, because there was no one to explore it with and he was being trained half to death most of the time. Of course, he’s picked up things throughout his life from others, so he’s not clueless and has a semi-idea of how to please someone. So when you and him do the do for the first time, Savage is unsure of himself, a bit clumsy, and kinda self-deprecating. You’ll need to talk to him, tell him that he’s welcome to your body and that you want him, and walk him through some of the actions. So while your first time with Savage may be a bit... disorganized to put it gently, it is also so full of mutual love and respect and care that it is perfect.

And, fortunately for you and him, Savage is a very quick learner.

F = favorite position (what’s their favorite position?)

Savage is a big guy and he knows this, so most of the positions you and him have to take is honestly a lot more for your safety than anything else. Especially at the beginning, Savage will want to be as safe as possible, so it’s most likely going to involve you on top of him, but as he gets more confident in his abilities, he’ll be more open to topping you. When it gets to that point of mutual trust, his favorite positions include:

Missionary. This position is just super personal and intimate for him. It allows Savage to see your every reaction, every gasp and moan you let out. He likes being face-to-face with you, being able to kiss you all over the whole time is especially important to him. Savage also likes missionary for being able to indulge on his size kink a bit, seeing you small and beneath him with his dick bulging inside you makes him so horny.

Cowgirl. Savage loves it when you ride him! He loves being able to watch you bounce on his dick, watching your breasts and anywhere else soft jiggle, being able to feel you up. Savage also likes when you top, being under you is just as nice as being above you (though he will admit the view from below is something real special).

G = goofy (are they the more serious type, or more humorous?)

Savage isn’t goofy, but he also isn’t serious. He doesn’t do a whole lot of teasing, preferring to give you exactly what you ask of him, but he isn’t so stoic as to be overly focused. He is in that warm middleground where he’s just an utter sap, just making sure he’s doing the best job he can just for you.

Sometimes though, if Savage is in a particularly playful mood, and especially if you both are, he’ll have you smiling and giggling from silly antics that he’ll do to please you. One of his go-to’s is flirtatiously flexing his muscles for you, which is a very nice sight.

H = hair (how well-groomed are they?)

Like I mentioned in my Maul NSFW alphabet, male Zabrak don’t have hair anywhere on their bodies. So Savage is completely smooth below the belt. He also doesn’t have a preference towards the hair you do or don’t have, Savage believes it isn’t his place to tell you what to do with your body.

I = intimacy ( how intimate are they during sex?)

Very. Savage has never been as close to someone as he is with you, so he wears his heart on his sleeve. Sex with Savage is overwhelming in its kindness, he indulges on the closeness that he’s never really had before with another person in this way. Savage practically melts into your arms, wanting so badly to show you how much he adores you, he opens his very soul to you. Intimacy, despite his cold upbringing, comes naturally to him, if not a bit surprising, but Savage wouldn’t have it any other way.

J = jack off (do they masturbate?)

Mm... not really, to be honest. He did “more” in his youth, when he could, but even then it was very secretive and few and far between. So yeah, Savage has indulged in the pleasures of the flesh, but he really doesn’t find the time nor motivation to yank it. Especially with you in his life, Savage is set.

K = kinks (any kinks?)

Savage does indeed have quite a few kinks, but he’s also a bit sheepish about them. He’ll tell you if you ask, but he’ll get all fidgety and awkward, so please be nice to him. Here’s his main ones:

Size kink. Savage is often self-conscious about his daunting height and bulk, but if there’s one area where he’s not, it’d be when he’s balls deep inside you, watching your pussy stretch to accommodate his length and the bulge that appears under your tummy. Something about it drives him near feral and makes him weak in the knees. He also loves how big his hands look as the travel your body, engulfing your skin with his palms and splayed fingers.

Breeding/pregnancy kink. He’s always liked kids, he would like kids with you, so Savage has a near crippling breeding kink. There isn’t a day where he doesn’t think about fucking you full of his seed and starting a family with you. He wants it so badly, to see you pregnant with his child, but he isn’t sure how to raise it to you. So, it’ll be a lot of very specific dirty talk and passing comments until he finally gathers the courage to tell you that he really really wants kids (and seeing you swollen with his baby and milk is just a bonus).

Praise kink. Savage loves to give praise and he loves to receive it! He’ll be complimenting and encouraging you the whole time, telling you how sexy your body is, how pretty you are to look at, how soft you are, how much he loves you, etc etc. His mouth gives only the most sincere, loving praise that’ll have you holding back tears with how kind it is. And if you say nice things back??? Savage is putty in your hands. Words cannot describe how much it means to him if you tell him how good he’s making you feel, how he’s doing so well, that he’s also sexy and that you love his body... or if you call him a “Good boy”.

Predator/prey. Despite his overall kind decorum, Savage really has a predator/prey kink, like more so than Maul, which is saying something. He really likes a good chase before doing the do, gets the blood pumping to all the right places. And while he never wants you scared of him, he does toy around and give you a good spook during the hunt to catch you off guard. Savage enjoys the startled shrieks that he’s able to smother with kisses until he has you panting and giggling.

Scent kink. Honestly, this is his Monkey Brain Zabrak mind rearing it’s head. Savage really just likes sniffing you all over, taking in your scent and committing it to memory. He especially loves smelling your hair and, more vulgarly, your pussy. To him, the aroma that is you is something he gets drunk on.

L = location (favorite place to “do the do”?)

Savage is most comfortable and secure in the bedroom, but that doesn’t mean it’s his favorite. He finds (after a while, of course, and gaining more experience) that he really really likes to fuck in the precarious spot that is the fucking throne room. It’s scandalous and dirty and bold, especially for Savage, but Maker, if he doesn’t love dragging you there in the dead of night and rawing you behind the throne.

M = motivation (what gets them turned on?)

There are two sure fire ways to get Savage hard in his pants that are completely opposite. One, Savage has a thing for you playing all cute with him. If you give him puppy dog eyes and act coy and helpless and needy, he’s on you as soon as he can be. Two, you act bold. Savage will get hot around the collar if you get get firm with him in public and whisper to him exactly what you want. He finds it very hard to say no to you if you give him such a compelling order.

N = NO (what’s their turn offs?)

Sadism. Savage just can’t do it. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He ties pain to the bouts of frustrated rage he’s prone to, pain that he inflicts on others that really hurt, or even kill them. Savage gets nightmares about laying his hands on you like that.

Also, Savage would not like being physically restrained in any way. That is a huge turn off for him, because it makes a lot of bad memories bubble to the surface.

O = oral (do they have a preference in giving/receiving?)

Savage wants nothing more than to eat you out. From the first time he ever tasted you, he was hooked. He’s addicted to your unique taste, sweet and perfect on his tongue, your warm, velvety pussy, that cute clit. Savage would spend hours with his head between your legs, mindful of his horns, if he could. He’ll lap at you like a dog, licking and kissing like he’s savoring a fine wine. Savage will have you cumming over and over again until your sobbing for him to stop.

His love for giving head honestly impedes his love for receiving head. He likes it when you do, mostly because it amuses and arouses him to see you struggle to take as much of him as you can, but it just doesn’t compare to eating you like a dessert. But if you do wish to go down on him, feel free to. Savage loves to see your tiny mouth work on his massive cock.

P = pace & PDA (are they soft, sensual, rough, or feral? are they open to displaying the relationship?)

SOFTIE ALERT SOFTIE ALERT!! Savage is so fucking sweet when he fucks because he puts so much thought and energy into it, he is the definition of making love. Savage fucks you hard and intensely, but it’s so careful and generous, because he doesn’t want to hurt you and just wants to treat you right. Savage literally could be blowing out your back, but it still feels like he’s worshipping your body like he’s at a temple.

Now PDA... Savage blushes if you hold his hand. He’s fairly alright with displaying the relationship, but if you do he’s a flustered, lovesick mess. He likes having a hand on you, especially holding yours, but if he has one on your lower back, he’s so awkward and sweet about it, but deep down it makes him feel really proud. Like, no one else gets to say that your his, and that has him so happy! PDA with Savage may be small, but it’s very cute.

Though if you kiss him in public, his brain shuts down and he swoons.

Q = quickies (what’s their opinion on quickies?)

Yes. Once you two have been at it for a while, Savage grows more and more fond of the appeal of quickies. He likes a good, quick release, though it doesn’t compare to having hours alone with you, but it’s fun nonetheless. Savage will most likely seek a quickie from you if there’s a lull in the day, when his and your schedules slow down enough to run back to your bedroom all giggly and flirty just to go a quick round or two.

R = risks (are they okay with experimenting? do they take risks?)

Savage is so-so on experimenting. He’s very nervous about trying stuff that’s a bit more... drastic, so it’ll really depend on what you’re asking him to try. Though, if you coax him just enough and assure him that your with him on this, Savage will be a bit more sure of the situation and more likely to try stuff out.

As for taking risks though, like genuine risks, the only one he kinda allows himself is that rare throne room fuck that happens once in a blue moon when the climate’s right for it. Other than that, Savage doesn’t like doing too much risky stuff in the bedroom.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they last?)

A damn long time. Maybe it’s because he’s Zabrak, or maybe it’s because of his enhancements, but Savage has stamina for days. He’s easily able to last 4-5 rounds before his cock starts to protest, but even then he’ll push himself if you ask him to (though you probably will be too far gone by that point). Savage makes you cockdumb nearly every time you have sex, simply because he can just keep fucking. Like his dick stays hard even through the refractory period, and he stays just horny from when it all started. Savage, though he is embarrassed to admit this, is insatiable.

T = toys (do they own/use any toys?)

Savage has literally never even seen a toy in person. He has no idea how they work, what they’re used for, why people use them, what’s the appeal... He is painfully clueless. So if you want to bring toys into the mix, you’ll have to thoroughly run them down to Savage or he might get put off. Depending on the toy, he might get a little iffy around it and unsure.

The only toy that’s blacklisted for sure is any type of restraint. He does not like those.

U = unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

Savage is... kinda bad at teasing. He’s just too darn sweet to tease!! He can’t find it in his heart to have you begging... for too long, that is. He may be a softie, but that doesn’t mean he’s a pushover. Savage with lightly tease throughout, toying with you a little bit before he gives in to both yours and his desires, and ravishes you.

V = volume (how loud or quiet are they during sex?)

Loud. Savage, when he isn’t very sweetly teasing you, he will be grunting and groaning and moaning your name like there’s no tomorrow. He sounds like a wild animal, all growls and snarls, rumbling deep in his throat like thunder on the horizon. It’s near constant too, and very very sexy. And, if it’s during his heat or your squeezing his cock just right, Savage won’t even be able to talk, and he’ll be reduced to a moaning, panting mess until he’s able to gather himself again.

W = wildcard (what’s a random headcanon?)

I follow the headcanon that Zabrak go through heat/rut cycles, but I expand more on it here in Maul’s NSFW alphabet. Basically, it’s about the same for Savage; he had an upbringing where his sexuality was suppressed, which severely jacked up his heat cycle’s circadian rhythm, that led to years of feelings of inadequacy and shame, which then eventually led to Savage having a mini sexual resurgence once he was free from his main oppressors and oppression.

That being said, Savage’s heat cycle doesn’t come often, as it and he is still healing, but when it does he gets a bit more riled up and snippy. He’s just generally more grumpy and gets hypersensitive to smells/sounds which will make him snap at people. But he’s still Savage, so he’s still a sweetheart in his soul, if not a gruff one.

But Savage still suffers a bit from the whole shame surrounding his biology, so at first he won’t want you around when he goes into heat. It is shame, he doesn’t want you to see him like that. But you’re smart enough to catch on eventually, and you’ll really have to wriggle yourself in and pull him out of his comfort zone at the same time. Savage needs to be let known that his physiology is normal and fine, and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of it. You’ll meet a bit of push back at first, because you are trying to undo years of abuse, but eventually Savage comes around.

He still gives you the option if you want to stay with him or not, because he’s thoughtful like that. If you decide to stay with him and “help him out” so to say... expect long, fun nights.

X = x-ray & x-tra (what’s underneath those clothes? any more random headcanons?”)

Savage is literally just 7 feet of pure muscle. He already towers over most others, but his burly figure also has the tendency to intimidate. Savage is positively stacked, with the physique of an Olympic bodybuilder. He’s got shoulders wide enough to sit a person on either side of his head, strong arms to match, and an absolutely exquisite pair of brawny chest muscles. Savage doesn’t have washboard abs like Maul, but he isn’t exactly dad bod either, he sits in the middleground of some definition of his muscles and a light brushing of pudge. His long, beefy legs are also particularly fun to enjoy, especially those thighs of his... and his nice ass.

And of course, Savage’s inky black tattoos paint him delectably everywhere else on his body, engraving sharp patterns all over his canary yellow skin. He also has scars scattered over his body, mostly on his hands and arms, but there are a few long ones on his back from, ones that have silvered in age, that bring about very bad memories. Savage doesn’t like talking about them.

Now his schlong... Maker you are in for it. Savage has a really, really big cock between his legs that you can thank to the enhancements his body received. Savage’s penis is 11 inches (27.94 cm) when fully erect and is just under 3.5 inches (8.89 cm) in diameter, so he is positively hung. Like all Zabrak penises, it’s ridged down the shaft and he is uncut. His balls are also fairly big, due to his size, and they sit lower from their weight.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before Savage met you, his sex drive was relatively low. He was focused entirely on other things, most of which he didn’t really have a say in the matter, that drew a lot of his time and energy. Often, he was so exhausted that sex, and even sexual urges, literally never crossed his mind. Now after he’s met you, and has caught feelings nearly instantly, Savage finds himself thinking about fucking you a lot. Before you officially started a relationship, he spent many nights indulging himself with the thought of you and his hand. And when you both started dating, Savage damn near gets horny every time he looks at you. He realizes that he really likes sex, specifically he really likes it with you.

Z = zzzz (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

Savage already has the tendency to sleep like a log after strenuous activities, so after you and him have done the Devil’s dance a couple times, he passes out almost instantly. Albeit, you’ll probably pass out just as fast too, so you both tend to fall asleep all sticky and messy and stupid happy. He does try though, to remain awake to give you solid aftercare, but listen, this mans is tired and he was wants to fall asleep with you in his arms. Though, he does sometimes stay aware enough to clean you up, just in case you don’t wanna go to bed sticky.

[carrotmakar]

Sunsets and Surprises

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: A trip to Italy isn’t the only thing that Harry surprises Y/N with.

Warning(s): itallyrry, lost luggage, y/n constantly in harry’s clothes, harry being an absolute sap, surprises, not edited (sorry, i hate having my betas read the shorter pieces)

A/N: anon requested: harry and y/n visit a small town in italy. harry takes y/n to a private beach and he proposes. Yet again, this gif has like, nothing to do with the fic, i just like it fjshdak!!! This is only like, the third (?) proposal scene I’ve written so I apologize if I still suck at the proposal speech!! Normally I wouldn’t give away the big surprise but it was quite literally in anon’s request so I figured I may as well apologize for it now. I hope you like this anon!! I don’t know how I feel about it completely but yeah!! I hope you enjoy it!!

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Reblogs help a lot and are greatly appreciated!!

*

When you originally imagined visiting Italy, you imagined a peaceful getaway, all worries left back in the States. 

You should have known that it wouldn’t be that simple. Your luck forbids anything from going as it’s supposed to. Which is why you’re standing next to the baggage claim in Catania Airport, waiting patiently for your bags to roll around. Harry’s already gotten his bags, so he asked you to watch over them while he quickly runs to the bathroom. 

After almost ten minutes of watching the same bags roll around the claim, you decide that there’s no way your bags are here. They must have gotten lost somewhere. You try to keep calm, knowing that as soon as Harry gets back from the bathroom, he’ll calm your nerves. 

You turn away from the baggage claim and look in the direction of the bathrooms. What is taking him so long?

After a few more minutes of waiting, Harry turns the corner and all the tension immediately leaves your body at the blinding smile that he flashes you. 

“Sorry for taking so long, baby. There was a lone in the bathroom and then I stopped to take pictures with a few fans.” You smile at him and wave it off. 

“It’s fine, honey. I get it.” He looks around you for a moment before training his eyes back on your face.

“Where are your bags?” You grimace, almost having forgotten about the missing luggage until he brought it up.

“Yeah, about that…” He frowns at your words.

“It got lost, didn’t it?” You nod and he just sighs.

“Alright, well, let’s just go. I’ll call and get it sorted out. Until then, you can just wear my clothes. I brought extra knowing you’d probably want to wear them anyway.” You smile at that, loving how he remembers that you always prefer to wear his clothes over your own. 

“Hey, baby?” You speak up as you’re following him out of the airport to where the car is supposed to be. 

He hums in acknowledgement, encouraging you to continue. 

“Can I play the music in the car?” He laughs slightly and nods.

“Of course, doll. Play whatever you want.”

*

The drive to Sicily isn’t as bad as you initially thought it would be. The fact that Harry let you pick the music (as he does most times, he still swears he has no clue why you act surprised nearly every time he agrees) helped the drive go by much faster than it really was. 

“Where exactly are we again?” You wonder as the both of you climb out of the car in front of one of the most beautiful villas you’ve ever seen. The outside of the building is an off white stucco design. There are arches that make the place look slightly asymmetrical, but it all just adds to the appeal. The shutters, trim, and porch covering are all wood that’s been stained a brown so dark it almost looks black.

“We’re just about on the coast of Riserva Dello Zingaro beach.” You swoon slightly at the light accent he has while pronouncing the name of the beach. 

“Go on in, dove.” He throws you the keys to the place you’ll be calling home for the next week. “Get comfortable, I’m just gonna bring the bags in.”

You do as you’re told, venturing into the villa and taking in the space. It’s not huge, and you’re grateful for that. You know Harry handpicked this spot, knowing exactly how much you hated having unnecessary amounts of extra space. The floor plan is open, the kitchen, dining room, and family area all visible, no walls separating them. The decorations that make you smile, the homey feel that they give off making you feel like you could stay here for the rest of your life. 

You walk to the back of the house and into the bedroom that you and Harry will be sharing for the week. The moment you lay your eyes on the room, you gasp. It’s possibly the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen (besides Harry). The bed is larger than any you've ever seen, the frame matching the white bedspread. There’s a white couch facing the floor to ceiling window that faces the view of the beach. 

As you’re ogling the room, a pair of arms wrap around your waist and you immediately relax into them. “Do you like it, baby?”

You nod and hum in approval. “Love it.”

“I’m glad.” He places a kiss to the crown of your head and you turn in his arms.

“Can we go to the beach?” He pouts at you for a moment.

“I can’t today. Gotta make that call about your luggage, remember?” You nod.

“It’s okay. We can stay in today, get used to everything.” He expected you to be slightly more upset about not being able to go out, knowing that you barely get to go anywhere anymore without someone recognizing you.

“We can go tomorrow if you want.” He offers.

“I thought you wanted to go explore tomorrow. Wasn’t your plan really to go to the beach starting Wednesday?” He smiles fondly at you as you speak.

“Yeah, but we can always change plans if you want to.” He’s trying to reason with you so you get what you want, but you know how much he likes sticking to the plan. You’ll be fine without the beach for a few days. 

“No, baby. It’s fine. We’ll go on Wednesday like we planned.” He leans forward and places a peck to your lips. 

“If you’re sure, then we can do that.” He’s scanning your face.

“I promise I’m sure.” You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and push yourself on your tippy toes to give him a quick kiss.

“Alright, then let me go make this call really fast.” You nod and let him make his way to the family room while you begin to rifle through his suitcase to find a comfier outfit of his to slip on.

*

The next few days with Harry are perfect, and you’re not sure how it could possibly get any better. He had been constantly loving up on you every chance that he got. He blamed it on you always being in his clothes, but you figure it’s probably just because he’s been happier, more carefree while he’s been here.

“Are you ready to go to the beach, baby?” He peeks his head into the bathroom and is faced with you in a navy blue bikini top and a striped pair of bottoms. 

“Yeah, I’m ready. Wanna help me finish applying the sunscreen to my back?” He just nods and reaches his hand out blindly for the bottle. You chuckle at his actions.

“You’re like a teenage boy, H. Act your age.” You notice your mistake the moment he begins to hum under his breath. “Great, now you’re going to have that song stuck in your head all day, aren’t you?”

He just shrugs, a smirk on his face while he applies the sunscreen to your back. He uses deep circular motions, almost like he’s massaging you, and you have to tell him to stop before you never make it to the beach.

The walk there is short, five minutes at most. In the heat, however, it feels like it takes a lot longer. 

You’re confused when you get to the beach and nobody’s there. You’d think that there would be more people here at this time of day, especially at a beach this nice.

“Honey, why is there nobody h-” Your breath catches in your throat as you turn on your heel and see Harry down on one knee, a velvet box in his hands.

“It’s a private beach, not many people come here. At least not at this time.” He chuckles lightly and you can’t help the way that your heart swells at the look of the smile on his face.

Before you can say anything, he clears his throat. “Y/N, I know this is unexpected, it wasn’t planned out much or anything. But that’s okay, because neither was falling in love with you.” He chuckles again, almost like he’s nervous. But you can’t really blame him. You’re nervous too. “I didn’t expect to ever fall in love, really. I thought that nobody would ever be able to understand, to cope with the hectic lifestyle that came along with being in my life.” His voice waivers for a moment. He pauses to gather himself before continuing. “But then you came along. You walked right into my life and said you didn’t care what baggage I already had or what we picked up on the way, you were here for it all. Looking back on it, there wasn’t a distinct moment that I fell in love with you, but there was a distinct moment in which I knew. I knew the minute you came to my house in the middle of the night just because I was stressed out and you didn’t want me to be alone. You put my happiness and health over yours that night and that’s when I knew, without a doubt, that I was royally screwed. You make me so happy every single day that you’re around me. Excuse my cheesy reference, but you light up my world like nobody else.” He pauses while you giggle lightly and roll your eyes at him. “I look forward to making you smile and laugh every time that we’re near each other. And, if you’ll let me, I’d love to continue putting a smile on your face every single day. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N. Will you marry me?”

You don’t hesitate before saying yes and throwing yourself into his arms, letting him spin you around and take you back to the villa to show you just how glad he is to have you as his fiancé. 

*

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[astranva]

Dream With Me

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Some explicit language? Not really though.

Category: Pure fluff!

Summary: One thing Harry loves about his girlfriend is her ability to make up the most interesting bedtime stories for him every night. How does it make her feel when he narrates one of her own to the world?

Or

The one where Y/N makes up bedtime stories for Harry and he records one for the world to listen to.

        When you tour the world, sing and prance on stages, write, model, play the guitar and piano, get interviewed, have people follow you everywhere, it’s safe to say that the best time to relax and let loose is when you sleep.

Harry enjoyed staying home with his girlfriend more than anything. Relaxed, chill days were his favorite; days when she’d be on the couch reading or on her laptop playing whatever video game she decided to try with people from online, he’d be lounging lazily beside her, his breath steady and calm when she’d run her fingers through his hair momentarily or when he’d be subconsciously playing with hers.

Days when their apartment would smell like pastries after she’d try baking something she saw on the television, or when it would smell like her favorite homecooked meal that Harry’s eyes would almost glimmer with happiness when she’d sneak and steal from the food he was cooking, watching her closing her eyes and a smile making its way to her face the moment she does, and he’d know that he has done a good job this time, again.

Harry loved the domestic life as much as he loved his job as an artist and entertainer. The euphoria he got the moment the crowd sang back to him, is one that he felt he achieved as well when he was with his girlfriend of 2 years when she’d be dancing to his songs in his clothes. The happiness he felt when someone would hug him and tell him that he means so much to them, is one he feels within just her smile in mornings or the soft, random kisses she’d give him. The bashfulness that would engulf him when someone would tell him that he’s good looking, was one that he felt when his girlfriend would tease him by wolf-whistling when he’d show her a new outfit or suit or just going anywhere really.

Don’t even get him started on how he feels with every single “I love you” she promises him because he was sure there would be no feeling close to what he feels when he hears those words from her, and especially her.

But there was something else about her, too, that nobody could give him but her – her stories.

Touring the world and doing what he does is hectic, of course, it is. It can be stressful, pressuring, and just plain tiring. So when he goes back home later than her after her job, and he goes straight into her arms, she knows he’s going to need a story to sleep better.

He’d nuzzle his head in her neck, smelling the scent of her shampoo with a whiff of her bodywash, his arms around her waist, hers around his neck, her hands moving to gently and lightly scratch his scalp.

“How was your day?” Harry would mumble, closing his eyes and letting her softly sway them in their place.

“Was alright,” she’d answer softly, “How was yours?”

And the sigh he’d release would be enough of an answer – tiring.

“Take a quick shower, yeah? Are you hungry?” She’d pull back to look at him, a soft smile on her lips as she asks him.

Harry would shake his head, “No, still feel too full from lunch.”

“Let me grab you an apple though. Lunch was a long time ago.” She’d pat his chest, “Go. How do we feel tonight? Do we feel like rescuing dwarfs or ending capitalism?” She’d grin, and it would instantly make him grin.

“Anything is fine. Just want to sleep with you beside me.”

On some days, they’d lie on their bed and she’d make up a story about how there were 3 dwarfs who lived in a mansion with everything miniature-sized and would climb each other and wear a coat and a fedora whilst outside. Why? “You can’t tell me you never wanted to try that, Harry!”

Then on other days, she’d tell a story about a boy named Harry with a rapidly growing fish in his backpack. Ring any bell? She remembers starting that series a long time ago with him, adding twists, comedy, and metaphors along the way until Harry decided to surprise her one day with an idea for his music video;

“Hey, baby, remember the fish in my backpack? We’re using that in Adore You! See you soon! Love you xx” he had texted.

Other days she’d make him think with the most random questions and assumptions.

“History is biased, Harry. When will the world stop considering Christopher Columbus a discoverer and instead take accountability for what he did to the natives of the land? What if Christopher never happened?”

And he’d be looking at her as she talked, one of her hands playing with his hair while the other moved all over the place for emphasis and to show how absolutely wonderful and amusing that mess of her mind was.

Some days, she’d be too tired. Drained from a day at her work, she’d be lazily playing with hair as her story was told in some sort of slurs.

“And then-And then they held hands, got on their horses and- no, they got on their skateboards,” she’d chuckle sleepily, “And they ran away. They didn’t have children because they didn’t want children and figured that the world was too ugly for that right now, so they adopted a blind dog and a deaf cat, and lived happily ever after.” She’d be out the moment she finishes, and Harry would be smiling at that and his heart thumping with love for her and love for how hard she has been trying to keep the ritual of a bedtime story alive, even when she was too sleepy and tired. It could be a 1-minute story and he’d feel better, and lighter.

It was one day when Harry went back home, turmoil evident and clear on his face. She noticed how tense his body was, how he clenched his jaw and saw him rubbing his temple as he took off his cardigan and was proven right when she put her laptop on the couch beside her and Harry took a breath before letting her know what happened;

“Fucking paparazzi. Do they think that’s an actual job?”

That day, he had showered and changed into one of her oversized hoodies (he was sure it used to belong to him) and shorts before joining her in their living room to find a tuna club sandwich waiting for him with a small cup of orange juice, his girlfriend under a blanket which she had retrieved when he was showering.

He told her all about the drama he faced that day over his tuna sandwich, giving her “thank you!”s every single time she agreed with him on how annoying they were.

“I get that people are different and that the economy is shit and everybody’s doing anything to get money but trying to trip me so they could get a photo? Why?” He rhetorically asked, shrugging.

“I agree, like,” her eyebrows furrowed as one of her arms reached out as if she was talking to somebody else but him, “Treat people with kindness, you assholes!”

And then there was a pause before Harry began to giggle, all the way to a loud laugh and struggling to catch his breath. She joined him, choosing to tackle him in a hug, hugging his head close to her chest before kissing his forehead, “Nobody is allowed to make you mad, you hear me, Styles? Now finish up, I think I know what to say tonight.”

She had taken a seat on Harry’s piano right after she uttered her last word, Harry turning his body around as he watched her with excitement and amusement. She cleared her throat, “This next song is dedicated to my mans,” Harry laughed, taking his phone in his hand and recording her as a keepsake, “It’s a song I worked very hard on. Stayed up all day and night.” She played offkey notes on the piano, “Harry, love,” she said slowly as she turned her head around to look at him, laughing when she found him recording her with the biggest grin on his face, “This one is for you.”

He had taught her how to play the Happy Birthday theme song on the piano when she joined him on tour once and began laughing when he heard her playing exactly that but with her own lyrics.

“Y/N makes me good stories, Y/N makes me good stories, Y/N makes me good stories,” she pressed the wrong key, letting out a tiny “oop” before continuing, “And she will make me sleep better toooonight.”

After, what she called a “skit”, they both brushed their teeth, did their night-time skincare routine, and were finally in bed.

Taking their usual position, Harry was on his side, looking at her with one arm draped around her waist. She was on her side, looking at him, one hand playing with his hair.

“Let’s try something different,” she suggested softly. “Close your eyes.”

Harry smiled at her, squinting teasingly which caused her to chuckle softly.

“Close your eyes, you baboon.”

So he did.

“Follow my instructions. Take a deep breath in,” she instructed, watching and hearing him follow her, “And then out. In.” He did as was said, “And out.”

Harry felt like almost sleeping from just how soft and gentle she was being, with the couple of deep breaths that he took, it felt like he could really feel how soothing the setting was; his hair played with, on clean sheets that smelled like the vanilla detergent they both loved mixed with her own scent, her presence beside him. It felt like heaven.

“Have you ever wondered what happens when you sleep?” She rhetorically asked, “Where you go, and what you feel; the places that you seek. When you start to drift away, your mind becomes a book,” she paused, “That writes itself then fades away before you wake to look.”

Harry almost swooned at what she said, embracing the calmness her words, voice, and overall presence radiated.

“Tonight, we’re going to think about anything you’d like.”

His mind instantly flashed to a scene that he had been dreaming and thinking too much about. The beach, him and his Y/N, wet with water and laughing before 3 kids were squealing and running around them. Call him a sap, but he saw a future with her and he loved kids.

“But let’s visualize some scenes. Clear your mind, love.” The hand which played with his hair stopped momentarily before he felt her knuckles softly caressing his temple and down to his cheek, making his reflexively smile which instantly put a smile on her face. “Let’s head to places more celestial.” She whispered.

“Imagine you’re there beneath the stars, which when you pause to think about it, actually, you are.” A sweet, gentle kiss followed her statement on his nose, watching him scrunch it with a wide smile and a hot face with a blush.

“You are, too.” He whispered, inching closer to her.

“Hush.” She said jokingly but blushed, before continuing the story which she had actually been thinking about for a while but saved for the right time.

She went on, describing sceneries for him and watching his lips tug into smiles as he listened to her, his face showing her different emotions despite having his eyes closed.

“Travel with me to moonlit valleys, blanketed with heather, the kind of landscape you and I could dream about forever.”

Harry was sure that if he wasn’t so sleepy, he’d be grabbing his journal to jot down everything she was saying and make it into a song, but he couldn’t cut their moment short. He didn’t have the heart to.

His Y/N continued, letting him relax more and more with every word she said.

He probably smiled the widest and felt like his heart would beat its way out of chest when she spelled out the word “love” to him, pecking different parts on his face with a kiss as she did.

“L,” she pecked his nose, “O,” she pecked one of his eyes and giggled when his face scrunched up in surprise, “V,” she pecked his temple, “E,” she pecked his cheek, “Love.” She kissed him softly and quickly.

And when she told him to think of “the ones he cherishes the most”, Harry couldn’t help but let out a low sigh of contentment as he imagined a garden with his family, friends and in between them, right under a spotlight, stood his Y/N in a flowy white floral dress, smiling so lovingly at him.

That night, Y/N watched Harry’s body get more relaxed by the minute, breath getting steadier until she realized that he had fallen asleep, his arm limp on her waist and his leg draped over hers.

“Goodnight.” She whispered.

He woke up before her the following morning, with a smile that proved that he, in fact, had a good and peaceful night's sleep. When he woke up, he realized that she was spooning him; one of her arms holding him tight, her leg over him, her head leaning against the back of his as he held her hand which was draped on his stomach.

Harry had to pause and reflect. Yesterday’s bedtime stories were probably one of her best and he was sure that if his Y/N decided to take that to the next level and write it down and read it to help ease those with a difficulty sleeping or anxiety, she would be helping out more people than she would imagine.

He stayed in his place for a while, scrolling through his phone and watching the previous night’s video without sound so that he wouldn’t disturb her. He watched how she laughed in that video, how domestically free and shamelessly herself she was, how she effortlessly managed to carry the weight of that day’s burdens off of his shoulders and throw it away.

Y/N woke up not long after and Harry felt it when he heard her let out a groan before she stretched, him instantly turning around to see her. “Good morning, beastie.” He joked as he always did to her in the morning.

“Morning, beauty.” She replied sleepily with a smile. “How was your sleep?”

“I’m certain that you’re a magician, Y/N. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh shoot. Caught.” She teased, wrapping herself around him by climbing and lying on top of him, feeling his arms wrap around her. “But really, how was it?”

“It was amazing. What was that last night?” He asked gently.

“What? You didn’t like it?”

“Like-Y/N, I loved it. That was some therapeutic shit right there.” His chest vibrated with chuckles, “Seriously. I think I want you to record that.”

Her eyebrows rose up and as did her head as she looked at him, “Really?”

“Yes!” He nodded eagerly.

“Wait, I have to show you something now that you mentioned it.” She grinned before climbing off of him and getting out of bed and walking towards her bedside table, mumbling about how she could’ve “shifted closer and gotten it without having to get out of bed.” She opened her drawer, taking out the notebook Mitch had gifted her for some reason last Christmas. It was a medium-sized notebook which had koalas on it with the title being “I’m 100% koalafied to become president!”

She sat beside Harry, who sat up and looked at her with both confusion and excitement as she shuffled through the pages.

“Here,” she stopped at one page, “That’s like, an outline? I don’t know what you call it. But I decided I’d write a bedtime story for you and that’s what I read to you yesterday.” She looked like a kid who had just won first place at a spelling-bee competition as she gave Harry her notebook.

His eyes fell on the title, “Dream with me.” He said softly.

“It’s cliché I know, forget about it.” She said bashfully, waving her hands around.

“No, it’s not,” Harry shook his head, “I did dream with you. Darling, this is incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” Harry laughed excitedly, putting the notebook aside, “Write more, will you?” He asked softly as he opened his arms, letting her move to place herself on his lap and wrap her arms around him.

“Don’t treat me as if I’m a professional. You’re overfeeding my ego.” She joked.

“And why not? You are the best bedtime storyteller I have ever seen.” He said lowly.

“You think too highly of me, Harry.”

“Not too high,” He shook his head with a smug smile, “Just enough to appreciate how bloody talented you are.”

And that began a new ritual. It then became usual for Harry to find his girlfriend perched up anywhere, her koala notebook supported on a cushion on her lap as she wrote away stories which she told him every night, deciding on the perfect ones according to different times and moods.

One day, an idea popped in her head.

Due to the pandemic and how they were both staying safe and going out only when absolutely necessary, Y/N knew how chaotic and sad the world was. She knew some chaos needed to happen, knew that some chaos was revolutionary which is why she decided against staying home and silent and was with Harry during the BLM protests, knowing that something had to be done and that something wasn’t to sit and mope.

But everyone deserved the breather. Everyone deserved to let out a breath and to catch a good night's sleep.

It was when she stumbled upon a video on YouTube that was a 39-minute video of just Harry talking with rain in the background and she saw the comments from fans that she gasped and almost sprinted to Harry.

Harry, sitting in his recording and music room, was sat on a chair with his guitar, strumming and humming when his girlfriend barged in and began to ramble. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock but it’s so important! There are so many people we can help, or like, you can, and it’s super easy, you already have the equipment and ev-“

“Y/N!” His eyes widened as he called for her and put his guitar aside, “Honey, calm down. It’s okay. Let’s talk. Come here.” He held his arm out.

She blushed and began laughing quietly at herself as she seated herself on his lap, brushing back her hair. “Sorry, sorry, too excited.”

Harry smiled, “And I absolutely love it but I’m having just a liiittle bit of hard time understanding.”

She laughed before taking a deep breath and straightening her posture, “Alright. You know how awful everything has been? How-How busy and noisy the world has been for a while?” She asked and Harry nodded, “Well do you know that your fans have a video of you on YouTube with many interviews in there because they love your voice? And they added rain and everything, reduced noise.”

“Oh, wow.” He tried to conceal his blush by laughing.

“I know! You know how good your voice is so why don’t you give the world a little something?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “I sing?”

“No, they know that. They have your songs and covers and everything but you talking?” She raised an eyebrow at him with a suggestive smile.

“Baby, I really don’t think I’m getting anything.”

“Read them something! A bedtime story.” She suggested with an excited smile and a gleeful tone.

“Like you do to me?” He asked, wanting to understand better.

“Yeah, exactly like that. You can upload it on your website or see if any app is willing to partner, whatever you want.”

“Do you think people would like that?” Harry asked again, wrapping his arms tighter around her to bring her closer as he looked up at her.

Y/N smiled and gently cupped his face, “They’ll absolutely adore it.”

Harry hummed, in thought. “Yeah well, I can’t do that on my own.”

She nodded, “You have connections. Jeff has connections, you can find a part-“

“No, love, I mean I can’t do it without you.” He grinned up at her, watching as her face then showed confusion, “Not without your beautiful, absolutely wonderful stories.”

Her eyes widened, her head tilted. “What? No. These are for you. Told you I’m no professional, Harry. I’m sure there are faaar better people.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Nonsense. We do this together or we let people have trouble sleeping.”

“You manipulative piece of shit.” She shook her head with a smile, leaning her head back, Harry chuckling.

“Dream with me.” He said after a moment, “I can read Dream With Me.”

She looked at him for a moment, her smile widening before she nodded, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. “I love you.”

Remember what I said about the indescribable feeling he got when she said those three words? It was there.

And she felt it, too, when he replied with a promise of his – “I love you, too. So much.”

---

Harry had contacted Jeff, who had contacted some people before finally landing on a partnership with Calm. There were two conditions in this work;

Harry would record from his home.

He would be reading his girlfriend’s story.

Now imagine owning a company of that sort as Calm and having Harry Styles contact you with these two conditions. Yes.

It took a couple of days. In the comfort of their own home, Harry and Y/N had him record then they would tweak some stuff then they would listen and try again. They were aware that music would be added, and Y/N was way too excited to listen to the final product.

In his denim hat, black t-shirt, striped cream-colored pants, using his Vans as slippers – which Y/N always cringed at and told him that it would ruin his shoes – and the script in his hand, Y/N stood on the side, admiring. He had allowed his scruff to grow, which she definitely wasn’t complaining about. A bracelet she made him when they were only friends years ago on his wrist, its colors washed out from when he’d shower or swim with it. Headphones were on his head, but she knew he could hear her if she said anything.

When she took her phone out to take a picture, Harry’s eyes moved to her before moving back to the script with a smile.

“Maybe all the memories that we’ve gathered here tonight are all dreams now remembered or wishes in plain sight. No matter what, they’re with us now, for this night and forever. And every time we close our eyes, they’re yours and mine to treasure. Goodnight, and sleep well.”

Harry then turned to look at her, eyes gleaming with happiness and calmness, as her hands were clutched together against her chest, watching and listening.

“I love you.” He added.

913,746 likes.

yourinstagram: Goodnight❤

[kasey-writes-stuff]

Got a request for a ler!mcyt of my choice and lee!reader sooooo here it is!

Sam

You and Sam were on a discord call with a few of the guys, it was yours and Sam’s first time meeting in real life! You had been hanging out for a good few hours now and things were great! Well... besides the fact your love language is touch and you don’t know Sam’s love language or how he feels about physical touch in general so you had hardly touched at all apart from the initial hug you briefly shared at the airport... it was very short though you being the first to break it off despite desperately not wanting to, you didn’t know how long of a hug he’d be comfy with and didn’t wanna overstep his boundaries...

“So y/n how was the flight?” Dream asked, you shrugged “Eh not too bad I got the aisle seat and two passengers next to me were teenagers who just sat on their phones most of the plane ride, turbulence wasn’t too bad either” Dream nodded “Thats good then” Ponk asks “So what have you and my Sammy poo been up to?” He giggles softly as Sam rolls his eyes fondly before saying “Not much really just helped them get unpacked and we’ve been chillin watching tv” Sap raised his eyebrows “Oh watching tv hm? Say they been cuddling you yet or asking for tickles?” Your face immediately turns bright red as you exclaim “SAPNAP SHUT UP!” Sam tilts his head confused “uh no they haven’t, I mean I got them to sit on the same couch as me but they haven’t really shown any want of physical touch so I’ve been respecting of that, why do you ask such specific questions sap?” Sap softly smiles “sorry y/n I just figured you would’ve told him or he would’ve found out by now” You sigh softly at him in a light hearted manner not upset at him just throughly embarrassed “it’s fine sap don’t apologize... and no I haven’t and he hasn’t... you know me I always put everyone else’s comfort and needs above my own so I didn’t wanna push things so quickly...”

Sam turns and looks at you softly “Y/N I love that you’re always thinking of others but please think of yourself for once and explain what sapnap is on about” Your eyes soften as you look into his “Well it’s just... my main love language is physical touch and usually whenever I’m with Sap, George and Dream I hug them and cuddle them a lot especially when watching tv and movies but really just any chance I get to be connected to them even just our pinkies being connected I take it because it makes me feel really calm and happy but with this being our first time meeting I don’t know your love language or just feelings on physical touch in general and I was too embarrassed to ask because I didn’t wanna push any boundaries...”

Sam had turned into the pouty face emoji, he lightly and carefully cupped your cheek “Y/N thank you for being worried about my boundaries honey but if you wanted cuddles you should’ve just asked, I would give them to you in a heart beat!” Your eyes slowly look towards his “Really you’re not just saying that are you? Because I really don’t want you to just be feeling like-“ Sam gently puts a finger over your mouth to shush you giggling a bit as he says “honey honey honey ppplllhehehahassehehe calm down, I’m not just saying it to say it I’m more than okay with physical touch I don’t know much about love languages but I would guess it’s probably mine too so don’t worry okay?” His thumb gently caressed your cheek as you smiled softly at him “Okay I’ll try to calm down and think of myself more” Sam smiled softly “you can do it I know you can”

George suddenly pipes up smirking softly as he says “So are we just gonna ignore the last bit that sapnap asked about or what?” Your face flushes a light red at his words and smirk as you quickly try and act oblivious out of flusterdness “Uh what last bit all he mentioned was cuddling right? I mean I don’t know what you all heard but I only heard about the cuddling right?” They all rolled their eyes and a few of them giggled softly, sap spoke up “Actually George is right I did mention something else, I asked if you had for tickles yet” he smirked clearly satisfied with how your blush was already turning an even more noticeable red

Sam raised an eyebrow curiously “uh no they haven’t asked for any tickles? Why do they like them?” Dream grins “Oh no no no they don’t just like them really they love them! Like I’m talking all tickles, rough, soft,playful, anything and almost anywhere!” George nods “Yea the only off limit spots are their feet and knees because they just don’t feel comfortable with their feet being touched and their knees aren’t ticklish neither is their neck” sap nods “Yea they just feel pain whenever someone tries to tickle their knees so we always stay away from there” Ponk who had been silent most of the time just taking in the info his own self possibly for future reference..... audibly awed about how precious this whole thing was “Y/N you are literally the most precious person I think I’ve ever had the absolute pleasure of meeting, we have to meet up in person sometime so I can give you the biggest hug possible!”

You pout slightly at ponks overwhelming kindness and adorableness “Aweee ponksss we’ll meet up soon I’ll be sure of it!” He clapped and smiled excitedly making you smile more, Sam suddenly spoke up “excuse me you’re not meeting my ponky before me!” You scoffed lightly “just watch me!” He snickered softly as he reached out and poked your side “No! You’ll be watching me meet him first!” You jumped and yelped slightly from the poke “ah! Nooo Sam it’ll be you watching me meet him first! And I’m gonna give him the biggest hug ever possible and you’re gonna be so jealous!” Sam smirked very softly at your reaction as he reached out giving you multiple alternating pokes on both your sides “no I’m gonna give ponky the biggest hug ever in the whole world and you’re gonna be jealous!” You squeaked softly at each poke and you heard ponk begin to speak giggling slightly

“Guys guys guys haha just come meet me at the same time okay? We can all have one big group hug! The biggest group hug ever possible!” Sam slowly stopped the pokes and you both looked at each other and nodded before both saying okay! And so you and the guys chatted for a little longer Sam every so often giving you little side pokes and Sam trying to ask the guys for more information on you but the guys refusing and saying he has to figure everything out for himself, before you guys ended call and went to go lounge around in the living room... Sam lays on the couch and opens his arms, you shyly smile lightly blushing a rose color as you lay besides him, his arms wrap slowly and loosely around you his head on top of yours as his hands rest on your stomach, you feel butterflies welling in your stomach just at the simple placement of his hands.... He sighs contently as do you, you let out a small squeak feeling his hands begin to gently rub your stomach “ee! Shaahmm...”

He smiles softly “Yes honey? Something the matter?” You grumble softly cursing him being so teasy already, he doesn’t hear or if he does just ignores it and continues on as you being to wiggle softly... he switches to gently scratching around your stomach in circles causing for you to break into light giggles “ssshahahmmmm” He giggles softly “yes honey what’s wrong why are you so giggly? Wait does this tickle? Awe are you ticklish honey bear? How adorable!” He speeds up slightly making your giggles raise and the teasing makes your blush brighter

“sshahahHAHAHAHhahhammmmm ddoohhoonnntttt sshhaHAHAHyyyy tttHAHAHhahahttt!” He pouts playfully “Don’t say what honey bear? Tickle? Ticklish? Awe do those words fluster you? Do they maybe make the tickles tickle even more?” “SAHHAHAHAMMM!” “I’ll take that as a yes!” He giggles softly as he begins squeezing your sides, making for you to jump and wiggle around your body attempting to instinctively dislodge his hands as your giggles raise becoming much louder “HAHAHAAHAHAHA SSSHAHAHAHMMM IHIHIHITTT TTTHIHIHAHAHAH!” “Awe can’t even say the word can you? That’s okay honey bear I can say it for you! Tickletickletickletickletickletickletickletickletickle!” Your hands fly up to your face to muffle your loud giggles and to cover your maddeningly red face “AAHH SSSHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAMMMMM!” He chuckled softly continuing the squeezes for a few more minutes for slowing down to give you a break “You okay sweetheart?” You nod your head softly giggling residually “ihihihimmm ggohhooodd”

he smiled softly as he gently pet your head “do you want more or have you had enough?” Your face flushes in embarrassment as you say “more please if you don’t mind...” he grins softly as he says “of course I don’t mind! How about I gooooo here!” He experimentally squeezes your hips and he jumps slightly as you scream and then giggle “AAAHH hahaha!” “Oh death spot sweetheart?” You nod shyly “Ihihi yew hahah” He smiles more as he says “can I?” You nod and so he begins squeezing away and you lose it screaming before falling into cackles which only seem to increase as he begins circling the divots of your hips with his thumbs “AAHAHH HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!” “Wow this must tickle like crazy for you to laugh like that sweetheart!” You nod wordlessly laughing hysterically before squealing as he switches to massaging, he continues wordlessly for a few moments before he slows down to simply tapping along your hips and sides leaving you to giggle residually as your squirm slightly from the tapping “hehehahhahahehahah wwwohohohohowww hhbehehahaha” “You gonna be okay sweetheart?”

You nod softly “yyeheheahhaha” He smiles lightly as he gently rubs your back “that’s good, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself because I’ll be honest sweetheart I enjoyed myself too” You looked up at him softly “Really?” He nodded “of course I wouldn’t just say that if I didn’t mean it!” You turn towards him and hug him tightly hiding your head in his chest, he hugs you back just as tightly... you raise your head “hey sammy?” He looks down at you “yea honey?” You smirk slightly “Are you.... ya know?” He blushes softly “I-uh I... no?” You snicker “hmm I’m not sure I believe you” you gently wiggle your fingers on his sides and he bursts into giggles

And so now it was Sam’s turn to be a cuddly tickly mess!

[zevlors-tail]

Home For The Holidays

A/N: Cheesy title, I know. I wanted to write something sweet for my fav comfort character for the holidays. Shinsou and reader are in a platonic relationship in this. “I love you” is said but again, it’s all platonic. Unless of course you would like to read it as otherwise. Enjoy!

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader (Platonic), Roommate/Modern AU

Summary: Holidays are stressful, and you just need a break. 

TW: None. :)

***

Drained. Tired. Exhausted. None of those words can even begin to describe how you feel right now. After two long days of lengthy driving and barely getting any sleep, you’re ready to collapse into your bed as soon you open your apartment door- or you would be, except your mind doesn’t seem to agree with your body. Physically, you want nothing more than to flop face first into your pillow and be done for the night. Mentally…not so much. Your brain just won’t quit, just won’t give up on trying to render you helpless. It won’t shut off, memories of the last two days replaying and continuing to stress you out even when it’s all over already. The holiday is essentially done, all of your goodies stuffed away in the back of your car still (you were too tired to even think about bringing most of them inside for the night), and you don’t have to see any more family. In fact, you cut your stay short and left early, and you sure as hell don’t have any plans to go back there any time soon. But after all is said and done, after you sink down on the couch beside your roommate, you still aren’t able to find enough peace of mind to rest or go to sleep.

Hitoshi shifts to make more room for you on the couch, and you gratefully curl up in the opposite corner from him and stretch out your legs a little. They ache from being cramped up in your car for hours on end. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you for a while, broken only by the sound of metal scraping against…porcelain? You look over to see Shinsou with a bowl of what looks like Kraft mac n’ cheese in his hands, eyes fixed on the TV while he absentmindedly shoves forkfuls of it in his mouth. Suddenly you feel extra tired and hungry, and you can’t help but remember that the last time you ate was this afternoon while you stare longingly at the bowl. If your car clock is correct, then you got back sometime around midnight; that’s at least a full eight hours or so since you’ve last had food. It’s not that you hadn’t been hungry at the time, but you were in such a hurry to pack everything up and make sure you didn’t forget anything before the drive home that you’d forgotten to have something for dinner. And if you're being honest with yourself…you might have been in a rush to leave after the events that transpired. Regardless, you're currently starving, but you lack the energy right now to get up and make something for yourself.

“Want some?” Shinsou shuffles around in his blanket so that his back is resting against the couch while he’s facing you, one hand outstretched to offer the bowl of macaroni and cheese to you. There’s still steam coming from it; it’s still hot and it smells heavenly. “I don’t mind, I was pretty much done anyway.” He must have caught you staring.

As much as you want to say no, your stomach growls loudly before you can even open your mouth, and Hitoshi is all but shoving the bowl into your hands before he moves closer to you and throws half of his blanket over your shoulders to share that too. He’s always so kind to you.

“But you’ve barely even touched it,” you reply flatly. It feels like all of your energy has been sapped. Even talking is taking a toll on you, but still your mind is awake.

“I was just bored. I ate dinner an hour ago.” When he sees you hesitating still, he gives you a thoughtful look and asks, “Would it make you feel better if I shared it with you?”

“Yeah...” It’s an honest answer. Even if he really did have dinner an hour ago, you still feel a little guilty about taking his food. At least this way he can have some too.

Shinsou takes a bite for every five that you take. You’re pretty sure he’s only eating for your sake, but you don’t mind that. You pass the fork back and forth between each other, his warmth at your side a welcome feeling after braving the bitter cold during the short walk to your shared apartment earlier. At some point you realize the utensil never left your hand after he passed it back to you however, and before long the bowl is empty.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until Tuesday,” he prods gently. His eyes roam over your face for the signs he knows so well by now.

“I wasn’t.”

You choose not to elaborate, and he accepts your silence for a valid answer. He’s good at reading between the lines and recognizing cues. It’s what you don’t say, rather than your actual response, that tells him you’ve had a rough time while you were away. The bags under your eyes, much heavier than usual as of late, tell him the same.

As far as you know, Hitoshi doesn’t visit his parents around this time of year. While you went to stay with some of your family, he’d chosen to stay home instead, and you had no qualms with it since it meant you wouldn’t need a house sitter for your numerous plants around the apartment. Now, you’re especially glad he doesn’t go anywhere during the holidays; you really don’t want to be alone right now. After having food and warming up, you feel absolutely beat. You’re achey, weary, beyond fatigued, and finally ready to relax your brain and go to sleep- and Hitoshi’s warm arms seem like the perfect place to do so. You lean into him, eyes already closing in defeat.

He sets the bowl on the coffee table before maneuvering the two of you around so that you’re lying on top of him, head resting just under his chin and his arms wrapped securely around your form. Over time, you've decided there’s no safer place than the lavender-haired man beneath you. Nothing brings you more solace than the strong beat in his chest and the warmth he radiates under the blanket, than his soft gaze that’s so full of care and his genuine smiles that you adore. There are no expectations to meet here, no standards to be held to, no facade to keep up. It’s just the two of you as you are- nothing more, and nothing less. You know Hitoshi will never judge you for anything, will never try to make you be someone you’re not. You can rest easy knowing you’re at home in his embrace.

“Hey…Toshi?” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. He makes a soft hum in acknowledgement and runs a hand lightly over your upper back, a motion that soothes some of your aches and relaxes you further. “Can you play with my hair?”

He chuckles softly but runs a hand through some of your loose strands, none the less. You lean into his tender touch, his fingertips gently massaging against your scalp as he does so. His touch feels nice; it melts away the stress of the past two days and eases your mind into a more relaxed state- one where you’re not constantly on overdrive with your thoughts and memories. Things finally slow down, and you start to drift off.

The blanket keeps the both of you warm as you cuddle each other, old reruns of a show you vaguely recognize playing on TV in the background. It’s the only source of light in the apartment- that is, until Hitoshi reaches over for the remote and turns it off for the night. After that, it’s completely quiet. The only sound you can hear is the strong beat of his heart in his chest and his hand running through your hair still. Both of your eyes are closed for the night, and you’re not moving any time soon.

“I’m glad you’re back home,” he whispers against you. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” It’s so quiet you’re almost unsure if you say it out loud, but the way Hitoshi snuggles up closer to you says otherwise.

All those places you visit over the holidays? All the family you interact with? It’s hard to call those home sometimes. But this? Right here?

Hitoshi Shinsou is a home if you’ve ever seen one.

[equizona]

Can you do Asmo with hanahaki, as in Asmo gets the hanahaki? Or Beel if you dont wanna write that with Asmo. Ok thank you.

Sure thing! Sorry about the long wait! ^v^

Wilting Flowers

[OBEY ME!][ONE-SHOT][HANAHAKI DISEASE][ASMODEUS X READER]

Asmodeus had never thought he would fall in love with someone.

All his life he had always thought he would never truly love somebody, at least not romantically. And he had throughout his life never found anyone he considered to be up to his standards. He didn't mean anything bad by it, he just firmly believed he was a lot better than everyone else.

Except you.

Y/N L/N.

He had, by some miracle, fallen head over heals for you.

But that was not the problem. He wasn't the only one who had fallen for you, no, so had his brothers.

Some of them may pretend they don't, but he could see right through them. The way Lucifer relaxed, Mammon looked happier, Laviathan was slightly nicer, etcetera.

And that was the problem. Of course, he was the best but people didn't ways go for the best. They went for what they wanted. And even if he was the best, mabye Y/N would decide they wanted somebody else.

And so he started down the path of not believing you would ever love him.

You could chose between the seven of them. Why not the mature Lucifer? Funny and dumb Mammon? Surprisingly sweet Leviathan? Calm and collected Satan? Friendly Beelzebub? Cuddly Belphegor?

Why.. Him?

You had so many options. So many variables, and you could have any of them. He had a one in a seven chance.

It wasn't that big of a chance.

And then one day, he felt it.

He was in his room, doing his usual bedtime ruitine. Of course, his thought started getting darker, as his mind directed itself towards you.

And then he started coughing.

He always had a strong immune system, but he could still get sick. But he ruled out that thought when his hands got filled with Pink flower petals and bright red blood.

That was certainly not normal.

He stared in confusion. What the hell? That was absolutely not normal?

Maybe something had gone wrong. Maybe he was allergic to something, or Solomon had caused an accident with a spell?

No, he didn't have any allergies, and Solomon wouldn't do that, no matter how dumb or mean he could be at times.

That meant he had to get answers.

He didn't want to bring it up with any of his brothers just yet, and he certainly didn't want to bring it up with you.

So he went to Barbatros, who didn't know anything about it, but promised to tell him if he discovered anything.

Then he went to Simeon, who said it sounded familiar, but couldn't place it.

Then there was only Solomon left.

And to his surprise, he hit it dead on.

"Hanahaki Disease."

"Pardon me?"

Asmodeus guessed he had some human disease then, as only the human knew of what had been bothering him.

"Yes, it's a disease in the human world. When you fall for someone, a flower will grow in your lungs and start killing you. There is two ways to get rid of it. One, confess, and if the person returns your feelings, the flower will go away."

Asmodeus was nervous to ask his question.

"And the second method is?"

"A surgery." His explanation was simple, undetailed, unlike his other explanation.

"Oh, that doesn't sound so bad. How would I do that?"

"Actually.. there is more to it than that. The surgery will remove all emotion you hold for the person you like. Love, hate, grief, everything. I suggest you confess first, and if they decline your emotions then you do the surgery."

Solomon seemed sad. Asmodeus loved you, and he didn't want to lose that emotion. After all, it held a strong part of who he was now.

"Alright, thank you Solomon." The human gave a nod, before going back to writing whatever he was writing.

And Asmodeus left. More lost than ever.

You would never like him back, so what was the point?

-------

Asmodeus was only feeling worse as days and days went on.

He had stopped going to school, telling Luicer he was sick and needed time to recover.

And all of them had been worried sick.

He was barely ever sick. To concerned about his health to let a lot of sicknesses hit him, let alone stay long enough to become dangerous.

But he didn't have the energy anymore. His energy was sapping, he was coughing up more and more blood.

And now there was flowers.

And he was terrified.

Sure, he loved you, but he also loved his brothers, even if it didn't seem like it.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Mabye I can help?"

Asmodeus sat up in a hurry, his light red eyes snapping to meet Satan's green ones.

"Oh dear, what are you doing-"

He was cut off by a series of coughs. He covered his mouth with his hands, feeling blood and petals hit his palms.

Satan seemed terrified as he hurried over to his younger brother.

"God, Asmo, are you alright? Please, tell me what is going on. All of us are worried about you, even Lucifer."

Asmodeus wasn't surprised about the Lucifer part, but he also knew that Lucifer cared about the six of them more than anything, even if he didn't always show it.

"It's nothing, I'm alright. Like I said, just sick."

He flinched at the glare Satan sent him. "There is blood and flowers in your hands Asmo. I do not think that is normal, and I have never seen a sickness like it here in Devildom."

Asmodeus stayed quiet for a short while, before he started crying.

Satan hugged him, humming softly as he tried to comfort his younger brother.

Asmodeus simply let the tears he had been holding in let lose.

Because why did this happen to him? What did he ever do? Lose all his feelings for you, or die?

He knew how his siblings had reacted to Lilith, and he never wanted them to suffer through something along those lines.

"Asmodeus, please, I need you too talk to me."

Asmodeus wanted to cry even harder at his brother's voice. He should never have hidden the truth. They were his brother's, and they deserved the truth.

Especially if he was going to die.

"I.. it's hard to explain, I don't fully understand it myself."

His brother sat himself down on the edge of the bed, making himself ready to listen.

And Asmodeus had never been happier.

"So, a month back I started coughing. I didn't think of it before I saw blood on my hands, and flower petals. So I went to Barbatros, thinking he had the answers, but he didn't. After that I went to Simeon. He thought he had heard of it, but couldn't place a finger on it. After that I went to Solomon."

Asmodeus hesitated. This was harder than he thought it would be.

But Satan was calm, placing his arms around Asmodeus, trying to make him feel safe.

And it worked.

So he took a breath.

"And he knew what was wrong with me. He called it the Hanahaki disease. It apparently, made a flower grow in my body whenever I fell deep enough in love. He told me I would die, and I had two options. Either I could confess my feelings and pray that they feel the same."

Satan frowned.

"Or?"

Asmodeus sighed. He didn't like this option, not one bit.

"Or I could get a surgery. The surgery will remove all my emotions for the person I like. Hatred, Love. Grief."

Satan looked sympathetically at him.

"Who do you like?"

Asmodeus did not want to answer that. After all, Satan liked them too.

"Wait, let me guess, it's Y/N."

Asmodeus looked at him.

"How did you- wait, more importantly, aren't you bothered? You like them too, right?"

Satan nodded. "Of course I do. All seven of us like them. But I've seen the way they look at you, and most of us have accepted the fact it will probably be you and Y/N that get together, and not someone else. At least it's not Lucifer they like." Asmodeus heard him add under his breath.

Asmodeus was to but thinking to care about that though. He was so sure you would chose someone like Satan, or Mammon, or anyone else!

And yet, Satan was in his room, saying how all of his six brothers had seen that Y/N liked him, and they had accepted that.

Most of them, anyways. He had a hunch the one who was sad about it was Mammon and Leviathan.

Jealousy and Greed, it would probably hurt the most for those two. Lucifer second, with his pride and all.

But..

You liked him?

No?

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. And when did you doubt your own charm? That's not like you at all."

Satan was right.

When had Asmodeus ever doubted hs beauty? Of course you would chose him!

Who wouldn't?

He was the best option after all.

"You are completely right, I'm very sorry about lying to all of you. I'm going to go tell Y/N my feelings, would you mind informing the others about what has been going on?"

Satan sighed, but gave a nod anyways.

"Of course Asmo."

And with that, the forth and fifth born brothers were off.

And there Asmodeus found you, sitting in the common room.

Looking like a wreck.

"Oh Darling, what happened to you? You look absolutely hideous." He didn't think to debate the words before they left his mouth.

But you didn't care, rather you seemed overjoyed at seeing him.

If you springing up and hugging him was any indication. Mabye Satan was right. Maybe you actually liked him.

"Asmo! I was so worried about you! God, I thought you were going to die or something." If only you knew.

"Darling, you know I take perfect care of myself, I would never let some disease kill me. Besides, who would be here to make sure you stay the second most beautiful person if I left?"

His heart started pounding harder as you gave him the brightest smile ever.

"I'm just glad you are alright Asmo."

He hesitated for a second, before nodding to himself a bit. He could do this.

"Actually, Y/N, I had something I wanted to talk to you about."

You looked at him curiously, always listening to him, not a bit of attention on anything but him.

"I have been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I didn't want to overwhelm you. But, after being sick, I realized that I should tell you."

You nodded, making a motion for him to go on.

"Y/N, I love you. You are the only person I have met in my lifetime that is anywhere near my beauty. You are pure perfection, just like me, and that goes for your personality as well. You are amazing, and I would like for us to be a couple."

Neither of you two said anything, and Asmodeus felt the fear creep in.

And the inconvenience of his coughing what about to kick in when you hugging him.

"God, how long have I waited to hear those words? I love you too, Asmodeus. You're really awesome, you know? I'm super happy you managed to gather the courage to tell me, 'cause I didn't."

Asmodeus let out a sob. "Oh god, I was so scared you were going to reject me and go ask Lucifer out on a date or something."

He hugged you back, holding you tight in his embrace.

"Nah, never. Sure, I adore your brothers more than anything, but that is in a plantonic way. I'm so so happy about this right now though."

The two stayed in that position for a few moments. Neither wanting to leave the safe embrace of the other.

And Asmodeus could feel the flower wilting away, making room for your love.

Because he didn't need a flower when he had you.

He didn't need anything as long as he had you.

He hugged you tighter, never wanting to let go of you.

You did the same, not mentioning the tears.

"Movie night?" He heard your melodic voice speak.

"Of course darling."

And with that, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch.

Soon after, his brothers joined the two of you. And he didn't mind, because now he knew you only had eyes for him.

And he also cared for his brothers.

Surrounded by all his favorite people.

He slowly started drifting off, into a nightmare less sleep.

[penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories]

So We Refuse To Take it Tragically

A/N: I’ve just accepted my fate is to be obsessed with this man, so here’s yet another Obi-Wan fic. There will be a second part to this, and I’m thinking a mini series of in-between moments. I won’t give spoilers, but this is NOT my normal type of fic, but he’s an exception to every rule in my book, apparently. Thank you to @caffeine-in-an-iv​ for being my beta on this, I don’t know where this would be without you!

Thank you also to @beskars​ for her post here that birthed this. Always blessing us with fuel for the thirst. 

And to the one I know IRL that found my tumblr, one I will refer to as Top Voice, this is your final warning to gtfo before feasting your eyes on unprecedented filth and sap. 

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Force sensitive! Fem Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: SMUT!!!  Cumeating, hair pulling, Comfort Sex, ANGST!! (It has a happy ending later, I promise, but it starts after ROTS, so it’s par for the course) If you’re gonna write not-particularly-pertinent-to-plot-porn, might as well make it unnecessarily detailed, right? As usual, too many feelings for porn,  More warnings will be in the tags to prevent spoilers 

Title from one of my favorite quotes: 

“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

-D.H. Lawrence

Tatooine is no place for a baby.

 There are no soft surfaces, nor comforts, nor surplus of anything. It’s desolate and deprived and oppressive, but you watch as Obi-Wan shields the child from its harsh, sand-pelting winds with his whole body, despite the fact the child fits in the space between his wrist and elbow. It’s overzealous, but you don’t say anything of it.

 The past two days have ripped away nearly everything he held dear, insisting on devastating every tender place. Nothing sacred has been left untouched.

 He broke the code long before he met you, and you know part of why his love for you came so easily, why he had no qualms with breaking his vows, was because he’d long since loved the man that became his family in every way that matters.

 Love and Light so tightly knit together the fabric of his being one could not be separated from the other. 

 And you could take on the entire Force with your two fists for how it had rewarded him for it with Hate and Darkness coming from someone so close it shattered something foundational in Obi-Wan. 

 Yet even now, there isn’t Darkness surrounding his signature. There’s brokenness and his ever-present equilibrium has been replaced by jagged shards. But despite it all, those rugged pieces still reflect light erratically in their shine.

 It’s a loss and betrayal that spans many different planes: on one level, there’s nowhere you look in the galaxy beyond just the two of you that isn’t marked by the Empire’s rise in power, marking the end of the Republic he fought for and the fall of the Jedi, his community, comrades, and only home he’d ever known. And on another level, you’ve seen the weight of war and worse in Obi-Wan’s eyes, but nothing, nothing like this.

 The pain is panoramic, but it’s also profoundly personal.

 Even still, his attention isn’t on himself, but on the fussy bundle in his arms.

 You wonder: is it the galaxy that doesn’t allow this man time to heal? Or is it his own choice to throw himself into the need of others so he has a tangible reason to avoid his own torments?

 When he places the baby into the arms of the young couple, you know the times ahead will give the answer to that.

 Because there aren't the cries of the past few nights to wake either of you, there’s silence. 

 You long to fill it, to try to bridge this insurmountable void with something, anything you could say. But you know it’s bigger than you. So, so much bigger than you.

 Monumental obstacles and tremendous loss find themselves standing in the threshold of an abandoned hut smaller than your flat was on Coruscant. 

 “Well… it’s not much to look at, certainly. But the moisture vaporator seems to be in repairable condition, and we’re just far enough from town to avoid any curious neighbors. What do you think?” He turns to you, and his eyes, dark circles under and all, turn sharp in their assessment of your response. 

 “I told you. I’m going wherever you are so long as you’ll let me.” Your voice is gentle but adamant as you remind him. 

 He walks up from the living room to the threshold of the kitchen where you are, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “Be that as it may, I’m asking your input on where we’re going, or living, as your happiness means a great deal to me.” 

 There’s still no smile, but it’s the brightest his energy has felt since the last time you saw him before he came to your door in Coruscant days ago, whispering a rushed, heartfelt farewell, which you quickly countered with an emphatic, unshakable, “I’m coming with you.”

 You look up at him, gliding your hand across his cheek into the hair at the nape of his neck. There’s Darkness at the door of his soul that he’s fighting off every moment, and he has the audacity to speak of your happiness. 

 You don’t dare bring up his. It’s irony, at best. 

 So you smile, timid, knowing the gesture in itself might be blasphemous to the tone, but genuine all the same. “We can make a life here. I know we can.”  

 He scans your eyes, looking to find the authenticity in your statement. “Are you certain?” 

 He’s not asking about the hut anymore. Or, at least, not just the hut. 

 “Obi-Wan, I never had any delusion that any life I had with you would be easy. I thought I’d only ever be getting you in secret, sparse moments. Although I’d never, ever wish for it to be under the circumstances that it is, having you like this is better than I ever hoped.”

 There’s silence as he processes your words, then a wry twist of his features. “How I wish that your expectations needn’t be so low.”

 “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” You incline your head, trying to find the words to convey what you mean. 

 “Nothing any person or any planet anywhere has to offer me holds a candle to what I’ve found in you, nor will it ever. I’d never trade unshakable wholeness for the transience of materialistic happiness.”

 You know this has to resound with him. Is it not within the core set of values he was taught to forsake comfort in any avenue for something far greater? 

 His eyes flick between yours, gauging, and you can feel him reaching out to feel at your signature to solidify the truth. 

 If you knew him any less, you might be insulted at his questioning of your trustworthiness. But it’s not you he doesn’t trust. It’s something good willingly giving itself to him that causes his wariness. 

 The Force can have your middle finger along with your fists. 

 Then he’s relaxing into you, letting out an exhale that seems heavy with more than just air, and burying his nose in your hair for his next inhale. 

 ****

 By the end of the day, you’ve gathered enough supplies for basic necessities and to start on the repairs of the hut. You both snarf down a ration bar before shortly thereafter clearing the blown-in sand off what must have been the bed of the home. It’s a half circle indenture in the wall, and it has a dip obviously made for a mattress or cushion of some sort, but as all that’s available are the blankets bought in town today, you set to fluffing them to some semblance of comfort. 

 Fatigue pulls you into it far sooner than the suns setting. Last night was your first night without Luke, spent in a room you rented in town. Today was spent traveling to and from the hut, discussing details on what needs to be done, and you? You are absolutely exhausted. You can only imagine what he must feel like. 

 Obi-Wan secures the lock on the door before sitting on the side of the bed, looking off into nothing for a long, long moment. 

 You push up to your side, placing a hand on his back. “Obi…”

 His shoulder nudges toward your hand, but he cuts you off. “It’s going to get quite cold when the suns set, and since the stove isn’t properly ventilating yet, we’re going to have to work with body heat.”

 “I’ll try to mask my reluctance,” you retort.

 He turns his face to you then, and just a smidge of humor sweeps across his eyes before he sheds his cloak, followed by everything else until only his pants remain. You’ve long since stripped down to your own sleeping comfort level, so before he can fold his cloak along with the rest of his discarded clothing, you take it and cover yourself with it. 

 He shakes his head a little at you once he’s done, settling down next to you, throwing the covers over both of you. 

 “Tell me what you need.” You’re face to face with him, but his expression is unreadable. 

 “I… I don’t know.” He considers you as if you held the answer to the question you just asked him.

 “What about want, then? What do you want, Obi-Wan?” You wish he didn’t have his shields perpetually raised these days. It’d be so much easier to just read his energy. 

 His hand reaches up so he can stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You’re tired, darling. Rest.” 

 Ah, there it is. If the answer to the question of desire is him counter offering his own response with the fact you’re tired… 

  “So are you. But you still want.” You press your body fully against his, dropping your voice down to a whisper. “And so do I.” 

 You won’t push anymore than that, letting him take or leave the invitation. For you, it’s not even a question. It’s been four months since you last saw him. Since you’d last felt his touch.

 You’d spent the last few nights in each other’s arms, but between Luke's shrill cries and the deafening devastation of the events of the days prior, it’d been just that: sleep. Or, what tousled, disturbed counterfeit the circumstance offered you both.  

 For him, though, there’s an abysmal weariness that digs far beyond lack of sleep, and you don’t dare infringe upon him in any way.

 But there’s still a longing present, and even without his Force signature to guide you into his feelings, he can’t hide his eyes. 

 You watch the moment he makes a decision solidify across his countenance right before he presses his lips against yours. You sigh into it, letting the draw of his skin on yours pull you into orbit.

 Because that’s exactly what happens. It’s a kiss for a kiss’ sake, for flavor and fervency and the fullness of each other, but it quickly gains its own momentum when his tongue parts your lips truly. 

 It’s an acute absence. Not having his energy surrounding you with his shields so far up. But it also gives sharp attention to the press of skin against skin, makes it an anchor and an outlet for all that is still too tender to even acknowledge.

 You find grip in his hair, purposefully running your hands the opposite of the way he combs it as he takes your face in both hands and pulls you into him all the more. 

 When you both need to breathe, he only moves so far away that his lips still brush against yours on every exhale. “I..” he starts, then stops. 

 The hand still in his hair rakes through it gently, scratching your fingertips against his scalp as you wait for him to complete his thought.

 “Let me taste you,” he says at last. You know it's a question from the way he stills, waiting for permission, but it’s phrased as nothing like it. 

 You raise an eyebrow. “Is that a rhetorical quest…”

 “Oh, hush.” He’s already nudging you over onto your back, situating his body over yours, claiming your lips again. You allow yourself to sink into it, cherishing his weight over you, his hand roaming your ribcage, before pulling back to speak. 

 “I’m sorry, are you now getting on to me for my sass? Because… oh!”

 He finds a nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, pinching softly with a small tug. 

 “By all means, continue. I was most intrigued.” His smirk is back, but it fixes you with a tinge of worry when it again proves to be a smile only skin deep.

 You place two fingers just shy of his forehead, but he catches your wrist in an almost painful clasp. The alarm casted by his expression quickly is washed away by a carefully constructed impassiveness, and your heart sinks. 

 He has to see it, because he bows his head in apology. “Not tonight.”

 And before you have any room to respond, he’s shifting himself down as he lifts your shirt up, placing a single taunting, wet kiss on each nipple before moving even further down, nipping at the skin right below your belly button. 

 He’s distracting you from what he’s not allowing you access to, and you know it, and you let him anyway. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Distraction from the barrage of the mind. If that’s what he needs, that’s what you’ll give.

 As he toys with the hem of your underthings, and you lift your hips to assist their removal, you realize it’s exactly what you need too.

 Except he apparently isn’t planning to remove your underwear at all. With a casual flick of his hand, your legs are parted and held like that with a no-nonsense sprout of Force energy. Then he’s simply pulling the cloth to the side and brings his mouth torturously closer, but stops just before contact. 

 You push up to your elbows to tell him you can’t take much of those teasing breaths he’s taking, blowing hot air against sensitive nerve endings. But when you hear his breath stutter as he just looks, unhurried in admiration, you decide against it, even as you flush at the undivided attention. Sprawling his palms out over your inner thighs, he dips down to press his mouth between his fingers, sucking not-so-gently into the soft skin, sending the flesh into tremors before he’s even really done anything to you.

 He says your name as he opens you up with his fingers, parting your folds so everything is bared to his view. You start to squirm, the exposure starting to feel a little too heady, and you’re starting to appeal with the beginning of his name when he leans forward, straight away connecting his lips to your clit. You try to thrust up into it as some shameful noise leaves you, but there’s only so much movement you have with your legs still pinned. 

 He loves to tease, so you don’t expect him to retract the energy that constricted your legs at the first resistance. Instead, he slides his hands under your ass, pulling you on to his tongue and lets you push your hips into him unchecked.

 He hums at your enthusiasm, the reverberation sending your hands into his hair again, which gifts you with even more noises from him. 

 It doesn’t take long at all, and you’re coming undone on his tongue, biting into your forearm to dampen your cry. 

 He doesn’t stop until you push at his shoulder, signaling your tender surrender. He obeys, looking up at you from between your thighs, absolutely besotted, eyes shining a shade brighter than before. 

 Then. Obi-Wan Kenobi keeps his eyes on yours before dipping his head and tilting his jaw, running his beard right where you’re still open and vulnerable, abrasion grating in a way you know you’ll be feeling all day tomorrow. 

 He licks his lips as he moves back up to kiss you again, letting you taste yourself on him. 

 He goes easily when you gesture for him to lie on his back so you can straddle him, carefully avoiding any contact where he’s throbbing for you. His hands fall right to your waist, stroking gently as he waits for you to initiate. 

 You focus your study on the section of his hair that’s fallen in his face, twirling a finger in it, happy to have anywhere to look but his eyes. 

 He’d normally at least be in your mind by now, and even though you understand it, well, the drought of it is as appropriate for the planet as anything. 

 You remember too late to raise your own shields against any accidentally too-loud thoughts, as Obi-Wan cups his hand on your chin, forcing your gaze to his, saying your name quietly in calling.

 “You have to know, it isn’t anything to do with…”

 You interrupt him. “No. No. I won’t have you addressing my insecurities of all things in light of…”

 “Please listen, love. I need you to know, it hasn’t anything to do with the love I have for you. That hasn’t changed and never will. I think I need… “ He pauses, solemn in thought. “Time,” he finishes finally.

 You knew this already in the pit of your stomach, but hearing him say it, hearing him affirm that it isn’t you insufficiency… you hate that you needed it as much as you did. 

 And if he needs time? That’s what you’ll give. But he also has a want, evidenced by the brush of him against you when you scoot yourself down his torso. 

 You take the hem of his pants with you when you continue down, ridding him of them and his shorts. But when you wrap your hand around him and begin to lower your mouth, he grips your chin again, shaking his head. 

 “I can’t… please, just.”  It’s always an anomaly when he’s at a loss for words, usually ever-so articulate.  

 A gasp chokes out of you when you feel the phantom of his mind. Not in full, no. With barriers, and it’s projected out, not at all the same sensation to being within it. 

 It’s desperation. For how long it’s been, for how drained he feels, how he’s not sure how long this will last, and how much he yearns to be inside you.

There’s not even a second of debate in your mind as you take your position on his lap again, lifting your hips, intention apparent. He takes his cock in hand, holding steady so you can start to seat yourself onto the thick push of him. 

 The hitch in his breath is your only warning before he seizes the undersides of your thighs, halting you from taking him any further.

 His eyes are tightly shut, and you know from watching him before that his facial expression is an attempt at borderline meditation, except it’s several long seconds before he achieves anything resembling calm. 

 It’s as good a time as any to push his hands off you and squirm around to take him a little deeper. You plan on rubbing your victory in, but your smirk is wiped away with a whine at the elation. Instead of stopping you again, he almost imperceptibly thrusts up, and it’s your turn to falter, slamming your hands into his chest, nails digging in, working against your weight trying to pull you down onto him. 

 It goes on like that, until you’re both bordering on hysteria before you’ve even fully taken him. You can’t figure out if it’s a worse torment to keep delaying or continuing. 

 Obi-Wan seems to have come to his own conclusion to that, as he finally opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he places his palms flat on the tops of your thighs and pushes down until your skin is flush with his.

 You pull a hand up, biting on your fist, trying to stifle the exclamation in your throat.

 He pulls it away, voice ragged as he speaks. “I want to hear you, little one. We needn’t hide anymore.”

 It’s a dimensional statement. For one, no one is around for miles, a stark contrast to your quarters on Coruscant where you at least attempted to be considerate of your too-near neighbors when it came to noise. For another, it’s the irony of being in hiding from the Empire, but being allowed to be open in your relationship with each other finally.

 And the deepest irony is that you both have your barriers up so firmly right now all you can concentrate on is bared skin.

 Oh, but what a beautiful spanse of bared skin he is. Freckled and almost luminously pale, bending and curving with the strength of the form underneath.

 He sits up slowly, generating a breathless plea from both of you at the new angle. A search of your eyes asks you a question, and you’re nodding, kissing him with the full brunt of your craving. 

 You slide up and then down again just as he drives up, and you’ve found your rhythm, just like that. 

 His hands push you onto him every time you pull up, and his tongue laves your breasts, sucking and biting along your collarbone, as you rake your nails down his chest, over the backs of his shoulders, his scalp, anything you can touch. 

 It’s enough to send him into a chorus of groans, shoving himself hard up into you.

 He doesn’t even speak it aloud, just projects the apologetic warning that he’s on the edge.

 When his thumb finds your clit, everything in you goes tense despite the relief. You clench around him, hard, and he instantly moves his hands to your shoulder blades pulling you flush against him as he lets out an unrestrained sound against your breasts. 

 You push his thumb away from where it’s stilled against you, replacing it with your own. His fingers twitch in their bruising grip, and you can feel him throbbing inside you.

 You stay like that for a moment, just letting him ride out his bliss, whispering sweet affirmations into his hair.

 When he looks up at you again, his eyes are glassed over. You wonder if it’s ecstasy that is the cause, or something from the bedrock boiling to the surface. 

 He doesn’t give you a chance to elaborate, flipping you over on to your back. The moment he withdraws, you can feel the mess dripping down your inner thighs. 

 It takes everything in you to not come at the sight alone as Obi-Wan dips further down your body, parting you and lapping his tongue right where you’re weeping evidence of desire. 

 You know you have to be making a mess of his face and beard, but he certainly doesn’t seem to mind, indulging on his own spill infused with yours. 

 When he adds two fingers in you and curls them strategically, searing heat shoots through your lower stomach as you arch against his mouth, his name a high whisper with absolutely no suppression, echoing across the empty stone walls of the home. 

 He leaves a final tender kiss against you before lying down next to you, pulling you into his arms, and you pull him into yours right back when your limbs remember how to function.

 His head drops against yours, and his eyes flutter shut, taking a deep inhale, like he’s trying to fill his lungs with more than just oxygen. 

 Nothing is fine, and the world is crumbling. But right now, as the suns finally leave the house in dark, as you clasp each other in tight embrace, as sleep pulls you under, you can pretend it’s fine. If only for a moment.

 *******

  There’s a flash of feeling that startles you awake and into the disorientation that comes from waking in a new place. The sensation worsens when you feel the reverberations of the equivalent of a slammed door in the Force. 

 You sit up quickly and look over to Obi-Wan, who sits on the side of the bed, head in his hands, fingers brutal in their grip.

 You move toward him, and he turns around at the sound. “Go back to sleep, darling. it’s nothing.”

 When you fix him with a gaze that essentially translates “bantha fodder,” he just lies back down, pulling your back into his chest, and you doubt the fact you can’t see his face like this is a mistake. 

 The rhythm of his breathing betrays the fact he is nowhere near sleep, but you find yourself fading off soon again anyway.

 ****

 When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in the bed, which is no surprise. He’s not one to lounge, and if the height of the suns peaking through the window has anything to say, he’s already been up for a while.

 His cloak is still tangled in the blankets, though, and you wrap yourself in it, padding outside after doing something about your morning breath. 

 The hut is situated on a cliff, overlooking a barren valley. The suns glare with their unrelenting eyes of heat even so early in the day, and you stare back as best you can without squinting, daring them to do their worst. They know nothing of the misery that’s already visited this home. They have no hope of competing. 

 You find Obi-Wan cross-legged near the edge of the cliff. Cross-legged and levitating. 

 Of course, you know he can do things like this. It’s just such a different thing to see him doing it . You’ve never had a proper morning with him like this, seeing his routine. He was always up before the sun, you with him, gathering moments and soaking them in before he had to leave again.

 He looks almost peaceful now, not at rest, but peaceful. 

 How?

 How does he still have so much trust in the Force? 

 A more lighthearted thought emerges through the grim train, as you notice he’s opted to not put his tunic back on yet. 

 It doesn’t matter out here, you suppose, there isn’t any other living being for miles around. For that matter, you wonder why he even left the pants. 

 His voice damn near startles you, not even opening his eyes to address you. 

 “Although that may be the case, there are some locations more bearable to get sunburn than others.”

 You blush at being caught, and gently ensure your thoughts aren’t accidentally projected again, but he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it.

 “Join me?”

 As he opens his eyes and descends the couple inches down back onto the ground, you feel your heart do the same. He’s taught you little things, here and there, and you’ve enjoyed it, learning to tap into that constant humming you never had the tools to channel before.

 But now? 

 What interest do you have with The Force that failed the man who served it without fail? You could burn it down for the atrocities it’s committed even in negligence against the man you love.

 But there’s been enough burning.

 Obi-Wan won’t speak of what transpired on Mustafar, but you’ve caught glimpses. Last night wasn’t the first night you’ve had him back, and it wasn’t the first you’d woken to a severe troubling in his aura. 

 You’re still not sure if Luke is a fussy baby or simply a very responsive one, as it seemed Obi-Wan was already awake before Luke started crying. 

 It was only mere seconds before his shields came slamming down, firmly in place, every time. 

You can’t tell if he’s trying to shelter you from his feelings or blockade them away from himself.

 Maybe both.

 But those seconds? They’re long enough. For just a flash of a charred, severed body. Of hateful, pleading, golden eyes. 

 There’s been enough burning. 

 “I can’t ever be a Jedi, Obi.” 

 “That’s not what I’m asking of you.” 

 He knows your criticisms as well as your compliments over the Jedi. You’ve both discussed it at great length many times, always over a firm understanding and respect, but you’ve never really had long enough to have a conclusion. But you’re not going to push now, not with the fall of it all still so close behind him. 

 “I should think our relationship itself is testimony that I don’t inherently agree or adhere to all Jedi teachings.”

 You drop your eyes, trying to ignore the sweat starting to trickle down your skin from the relentless heat. “I thought maybe you were with me in spite of your better judgement.”

 His brow furrows. “At first, that’s what I may have thought too, but it made itself clear that although what transpired between us was forbidden by the Code…” he trails off for a moment, almost hesitant. “...the way Light was and is exemplified any time I have you in my arms presented a solidified case that not always is the Jedi way synonymous with the will of the Force.”

 He says it wholeheartedly, but you can tell it pains him. It’s easy to never speak ill of the dead, either of individuals or groups. To glorify and wipe away any transgressions to ensure their memory sparkles as you grieve it. 

 The harder thing is to grieve everything, both the good you lost and the bad you experienced from the same source.

 And there’s another level there. Something that has him patting the spot beside him and giving a heartbreakingly forced smile.

 Even through it all, wariness of aspects of his own religion included, he seeks unity with the Force without reservation or resentment.

 You don’t fight him anymore. 

 The war is over, but the battle has just begun, and so help you Maker, you’re going to fight for him to have the chance to heal. 

 So you sit, mimicking his position. 

 When he smiles again, it’s much smaller but not at all fake. 

 “First, clear your mind.”

 *****

 The days are afflicted with an underlying gloom, full of work that busies the hands but leaves the mind to wander, which wasn’t at all a luxurious thing. 

 But the nights are filled with unclaimed time, time in an abundance you never had with each other before. 

 Sometimes it’s shot with silence from the weight of the day, reveling in the presence of another as you work together on the supper dishes.

 Or sometimes there’s almost an excitement, despite the labor ahead, of the plans for the place that’s now your home. 

 “Wouldn’t we have to have some sort of larger equipment to hoist that over the cliff edge?” You wonder aloud to Obi-Wan, speaking of the replacement unit for finally getting some very basic temperature control for the hut. “The way around back is too rough and would scratch it up, and I, for one, wouldn’t want to try pushing it up manu…”

 You stop at his smirk he’s trying to hide with tilting his tea cup higher over his lips. 

 “...Or there’s a Jedi solution to this problem that requires neither, and you’re just letting me ramble on anyway.” You punctuate the end of your statement by tossing a pillow his direction, which just stops. Midair. 

 There’s so much legend surrounding Jedi, you haven’t really been sure what’s factual and what’s fairytale. 

 You certainly knew of some of his abilities, but he didn’t tend to elaborate on details of his missions before, and you never argued, knowing it was a liability for you to have that kind of information if anyone ever found out what you meant to Obi-Wan.

 He chuckles, not even trying to look a little guilty. 

 Once you remember to shut your mouth, you get back to planning. “And that same principle just applies to objects of any size?”

 He nods. “Same principle, just more concentration required.” 

 You tuck your feet under you on your chair as you think on that for a second. You’ll have to ask him to teach you that one next. Mediation alone could get rather dull.

 “So, for instance, if a great amount of concentration is being spent Force-lifting an object up the cliff, it would leave a Jedi vulnerable to, say… projectiles thrown?” You throw another pillow at him, which just as easily halts next to the other, gravity defiant. 

 He could have lowered the first one by now. You raise a brow at the knowledge he’s putting on a show for you. 

 “You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid.” 

 More often than not, the time of the evenings are spent loving and lounging in sheets, savoring the difference of unhurried lovemaking, with no heart-wrenching farewell on the horizon.

 But every time you gently ask to reach his mind, he pushes the request and your hand away.

 *******

 Obi-Wan’s visits to see Luke are met with a level of hostility. The man, Owen, seems wary of him, doing everything he can to cut the visit short as you and the woman, Beru, if you remember correctly, look silently to each other for some relief in the tension.

 They already likely know his actual name, but you’re careful to only address Obi as “Ben” here, along with everywhere else that isn’t your hut. It’s precautionary, but if it’s for the sake of protecting Luke and Obi-Wan himself, you’ll do it without any further questions.

 But Luke seems to be doing well, and that is ultimately what matters most. It’s hard to believe how quickly he’s grown in the mere weeks that you’ve been here.

 The boy might be by far Obi-Wan’s greatest purpose being on this planet, but it’s not his only. 

 Master Yoda had given him Jedi texts, yes, but also another task for his time here. 

You’re thankful to talk about either, as it seems to be one of the few things he’ll open up to you about as it pertains to himself. 

 But when he goes to meditate alone, calling for his mentor, his father in every right of the term, he comes back more empty than he left. 

 When you look at him with a too-knowing look, too infiltrating for his comfort, he easily slides into a quip.

 “My old master, it seems, won’t appear unless on his own terms. I’m not sure what else I expected, honestly.”

 ******

 You also learn that the man does not cook. Not that you consider yourself an expert, but at the very minimum, you know how to use spices, which on Tatooine come as hot as their weather.

 “Is it a Jedi thing to have tasteless food, or is that just you?” You tease as he dices some sort of root at your direction while you sift through the cabinet. 

 His eyes are full of mischief when he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I would argue there’s concrete evidence that I’m quite happy to indulge in the pleasures of taste.”

 You can’t help your blush as his very pointed look. 

 Dinner is long forgotten after that, but the night is delectable all the same.

 *****

 Something has shifted in your own Force signature. Something you can’t put your finger on. 

 It doesn’t seem harmful or threatening in essence, but it makes you wary in a way that makes your skin itch with more than the dryness. 

 You try not to think much of it. After all, there’s plenty to do between tending to the vaporator, hunting, fending off the Sand People, and your learning to wield the Force.

 After rumors of Tusken raiders being nearby, you ask Obi-Wan to teach you combat.  This would be starting long before he normally would teach someone, he explained, but he does it anyway. It’s not exactly using the Force at first, having to start with how to even move your body in the event of attack, slowly enhancing those skills with the Force as you become more confident in them. 

 You look forward to it more than any other task. It gives you a strength you haven’t had before, and it’s a whole different level of connection to the Force when you trust it physically, not just in your mind. 

 It’s also another level of trust with Obi-Wan, knowing he’d never hurt you even as he enters the role of a potential threat, guiding you through how to handle it.

 So you don’t know why today your stomach won’t agree to the way you want your body to move. You push through it anyway, despite Obi-Wan’s concerned questioning. 

 You lose your lunch into the rocks, and you really wish he wouldn’t pick you up to take you back into the hut, because the shift of what’s up and what’s down doesn’t help at all. 

 And you wish he wouldn’t dote over you the rest of the day, as if you didn’t feel useless enough already, as if the illness didn’t leave as quickly as it came. 

 You make a mental note to ensure you don’t let yourself become dehydrated again to that point.

 *****

 The trips into town are kept to a minimum, trying to keep curiosity away from the new couple. Also, there wasn’t much to do except barter and spend credits, something you both tried not to do a great deal of. 

 Obi-Wan was sent off with enough Republic credits to get you started here, but it was hit or miss if the vendors took them that day, and he also didn’t want to spend too much at once.

 Nothing was more suspicious than surplus here.

 The woman you brought the limited produce available from seemed… different this trip. 

 Obi-Wan was a couple of stalls down from you, negotiating with a man who had obviously jacked up the price on the items needed. Poor man didn’t know what he was in for. 

 You turned your attention back on to the woman in front of you, and tried to decipher what was different this time and why it felt so familiar. 

 As you pointed to a basket of hubba gourds, inquiring of the price, she gave you one that you knew for a fact was higher than last time. 

 You counter offered the same price as last time you were here, and she firmly stated her price again. Ready to stand your ground, you go to state your price again, she puts her hand to her belly, bringing her skirt in around, revealing a small bump. 

 “Can’t afford your low-ball offers with this one on the way, understand?” 

 The sky suddenly falls around you in thunderous clamor as the physical realm around you moves on, unaffected and unreachable. Almost mechanically, you place the credits she asked for on the table, not even capable of addressing the obvious manipulation.

 Understanding drenches you in its brutal weight as you realize the source why she felt so different this time. 

 Your hands shake in their clasp on the basket as you pull yourself into a side alley, heaving your breakfast up. 

 Because you recognize the same difference in her is the exact same one that has changed your Force signature.

 It’s because there’s a flickering light of another being’s Force signature within you. 

  Tagged as requested: @maybege​

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold (5)

*I had different, spicier, plans for this chapter and then the characters took off with the plot and had fluff instead.*

~~~

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!

I had been way louder than I meant to. My body was pleased with the after effects of masturbating but my mind was paying the price. I had been peacefully asleep until another naughty dream of Felix entered my subconscious. It was late so I figured he was asleep and I could get away with being a little loud if I got a tad overwhelmed but I had thrown caution to the wind right at the end when I screamed his name.

Hopefully he hadn’t heard but it did nothing to assuage my worries. I need to get a handle on these hormones. Maybe I would feel more in control if I got something. The store sold condoms. At the very least if it turns out that he does want to have sex one day I can be prepared. I set out early that morning before Felix woke up and grabbed a box of condoms as well as some feminine products. I had forgotten I even got a period until I came to Storybrooke and time started its toll on my body which meant my bloody, crampy, moody friend was back to wreak hell upon me.

Maybe that’s why I had been so horny lately. PMS can be a hell of a hormone tornado.

I got back to the house and was happily walking back to my room to drop off my purchase when I heard music coming from the kitchen. Damn. I didn’t think Felix would be awake yet. I tried to sneak past but he caught me halfway through.

“There you are,” Felix said, “I thought you were still in bed asleep. Where’d you go?”

“Quick run to the store,” I waved the plastic bag in my hand.

“I’m making eggs, do you want any?”

“Oh sure, I’m gonna go drop this stuff off in my room first.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, “Oh wait,” he gestured for me to come back.

“Yes?”

He pulled me in for a quick kiss. “Just wanted to do that.”

“Sap.” I tweaked his nose.

I raced up the stairs and dropped the condoms in the drawer of my bedside table and stuffed my feminine products under the bathroom sink. There. Now come period or play time I was ready!

I went back downstairs and sat down with Felix for breakfast. The snow outside had really piled up. On my trip into town I saw a lot of kids out in their lawns making snowmen. Felix and I have stayed cooped up inside this entire time. Maybe we should go have fun outside too. Our entire lives used to be spent outdoors before we came here after all.

I mentioned as much to Felix and he shrugged saying it sounded like fun. We got dressed in our winter attire and I raced out into the snow. “Felix, help me roll!”

“Roll what?” he asked.

“I’m trying to make a snowman. I’ll get started on the lower section, you get started on the middle.”

“Alright then,” Felix stooped down and started rolling a ball.

I got a pretty big base done and Felix came over with his slightly smaller ball to stack on top of it. Felix started rolling the head while I gathered some rocks and sticks to decorate it with. “Arm here, and here, rocks for eyes and a nice rocky smile and ta-da! Snowman! Isn’t he a handsome devil?”

“He’s a pile of snow and rocks, darling.”

“Well how about this,” I dug my finger into the face of the snowman and dragged it down. “There, now he looks like you.”

“You’re hilarious.” Felix rolled his eyes, “He’s a little too short to be me though.”

“Nope. He’s a perfect copy.”

“Well you know what this means.” Felix started backing up, “If there are two of me that means one of us has got to go.”

“Felix! Don’t you dare!” I yelled, “Don’t kill Felix Junior!

“There can only be one!” Felix ran and tackled the snowman breaking all our hard work in half. “I reign victorious!”

“You are a terror!” I grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at him. “I will avenge you Felix Junior!” The snowball hit him right in the head. He stood up and gawked at me.

“You really wanna have this fight, little girl?” He asked as he picked up the discarded head of Snowman Felix. “We’re gonna have this fight!”

“No!” I started running away as Felix raced after me. The severed head of our snowman held high above his own head. I felt the force of it hit me in the back and I went tumbling to the ground.

“Gotcha!” Felix was already forming another snowball.

“Oh no you don’t!” I quickly made another ball and hurled it nailing him in the face. “For Felix Junior!” I started making more snowballs as I got up and started pelting him.

I was laughing my head off as Felix and I dodged around one another throwing snowballs. I got too close once and he grabbed me shoving a clump of snow to my exposed neck! “No! No! Cold! Cold! Cold!”

I dropped to the ground and Felix fell with me. He was hovering over me, that wide smile that only I ever got to see, bright on his cold stung face. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Our battle lay forgotten as we sunk into it. His face was cold but his mouth was hot as he kissed me back.

“Truce?” He asked.

“For now.” I shivered, the cold and wet of the snow starting to get to me.

“Cold?” Felix smirked.

“A tad.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” He stood up and helped pull me to my feet. “Let’s get back to the house where I can keep you warm.”

“I like the sound of that.” I held close to his arm as we made our way back to the mansion. I changed into my comfiest and warmest clothes and heated up some hot chocolate for Felix and I. We sat down in the living room where Felix already had a fire going. A bunch of cushions and blankets littered the ground.

I sat down and cuddled up next to Felix. We sipped our hot chocolate while the fire crackled and music from the record player played softly in the background. Outside the snow fell in delicate flakes. It was a moment of pure bliss.

“Did you ever think we’d be like this?” I asked.

“Like what?”

“Cuddled together like we’re old lovers.” I smiled, “I certainly didn’t when I first met you.”

“A lot has changed since then though, hasn’t it?” He matched my smile and planted a kiss to the crown of my head.

“Yes, a lot has changed.” I sighed, “It almost makes me not want to go back to Neverland. I’m just so happy being here...with you.”

“You don’t want to return to Neverland?” Felix really looked at me now. “But it’s our home.”

“I’m not saying that I never want to go back to Neverland I’m just saying that I am really enjoying this time where it’s just the two of us. No other loud boys getting in the way. No hunting for food or sleeping on the hard ground. No bathing in a pond. It’s comfy here. Safe.”

“The privacy is nice,” He traced his thumb along my cheek, “I like having you all to myself.”

“Home can be anywhere we make it. Why not make it here?”

“Is that what you’d want?” Felix said, “To stay here and grow up? We’d become boring adults. The one thing we hate more than anything.”

“I don’t think either of us could be considered boring, adult or not.” I chuckled. “I don’t like the idea of growing old and dying but if you’re there along with me getting wrinkles and grey hairs then I fear it a little less.”

“That’s a big change. A big commitment. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I don’t think anyone is ever ready to grow up. It just sorta happens. It’s the passage of time.”

“Does this mean you’re done looking for a way back to Neverland?”

“We’ve been searching for weeks. We’re going on two months and we have made no progress. Absolutely none. I think it has to do with the fact that we’re happy here. We’re not looking as hard as we should because we have a good thing going already. Tell me, Felix, if we found a way back to Neverland tomorrow, would you want to take it?”

“Would you be coming with me?”

“That’s not fair. You’re asking that cause you know I would come with you regardless. I am asking if you would stay here regardless of if I was here or not.”

“Wherever you go I go. I know that’s not the question but that’s my answer. You want to go back to Neverland we go back to Neverland. You want to stay here and grow up then I’ll be right by your side for that too. We’re in this together now.”

“Felix, I--” my brain tried desperately to catch up to my heart. What was I feeling? Was this love? I don’t remember the last time I felt love. I can’t even be sure that what I’m feeling right now counts but it is the closest to love I know I have ever felt. That didn’t mean I was ready to say it out loud though. “I am so glad that I have you.”

“I’m glad I have you too.” He kissed me slowly.

The rest of our day passed in a warm haze of dreamy sighs and feather soft kisses. We barely moved from our spot in front of the fireplace. Felix got up to heat up some leftovers for dinner and came to sit back down. The night was growing late and I felt myself nodding off. I didn’t want to return to my lonely bed though. I wanted to remain right here.

I rested my head on Felix’s shoulder and shut my eyes.

~~~

Felix hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the living room. But he didn’t have much choice after you fell asleep on him. He hadn’t the heart to wake you up. Not that he would have dared move from that spot in the first place. It was such a stark contrast to the hormonal hours of makeouts you and he had engaged in over the past several days. Today was all soft touches and meaningful words.

He was surprised when you said you wanted to stay in Storybrooke but what was more surprising was that he wanted to stay here with you too. Wherever you went he would follow. If that meant staying here and growing old then he was proud to do it.

He played with your hair as you slept. You had cuddled up right next to him and next thing he knew you were fast asleep. He gently reclined so he was laying down as well. You curled into him even more. Your head resting over his heart like a pillow.

What he wouldn’t give to go to sleep like this every night. Maybe he could. From the way you talked and how easily you fell asleep next to him maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing his bed. He didn’t even think about how else that could be misconstrued. Sex was an afterthought to the peace that was having you next to him. Your face relaxed and soft snores escaped past your lips.

“I adore you.” he whispered to you as you slept. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and fell into a dreamless sleep with you in his arms.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[my-writings-and-musings]

hey uh here's a request, feel free to ignore. so my family just fell apart in less than an hour, can i have whirl, drift and cygate (feel free to drop if its over the character limit) comforting a human reader in severe distress and giving much needed TLC? thank you, you're an amazing writer 💖

I have been in your situation anon so here's an emergency answer with the bots and lots of reassurance from me that it absolutely WILL get better with time, trust me. I hope it brings you the comfort you need!

Whirl

·If you first break down in public this big bot knows that he needs to get you somewhere quiet and out of the way, and being one experienced seeking out such places for himself, he'll absolutely carry you in his arms to a hiding spot big enough for the both of you but still secure from the outside world. He won't let anyone stop him from getting you there either, but he also comforts you the entire way, encouraging you to be as loud or quiet as you need to be.

·There's nothing but comfort in his hidden little shelter. He's even stocked it with supplies for you, just in case you ever needed it. If you're not able to request anything in particular he's good at reading hints, meaning that whether you want to be held close to his spark or laid on the blankets whilst a gentle claw strokes your back, he's got you covered. He's been where you are and he never wants anyone to endure their hurt alone.

·Words don't come easily to him for the more delicate things, but he says what he means because he wants you to know; he's never going anywhere. No matter who skips out on you, you'll always have your Whirleybird, and he's got your back. You're the most inspiring and wonderful little fleshy he's ever met, and he'll gladly remind anyone who's forgotten how grateful they should be to know you.

·If it all feels like too much and you just can't handle it yet, he's here to get you back on your feet in your own time. One could joke that he takes his "Whirleybird" nickname too literally, but he really is like a mamma hen when someone small needs his help, bringing you food and drinks in his dexterous claws and threatening anyone who might hurt you if they dare come too close.

·If you'll let him, he'll gladly curl around you while you slip off for much needed rest. Should more tears interrupt your sleep, he's there in an instant, guiding you to hug him tight and let it all out, never once rushing you to get better. He's going to give you all the time you need because he knows you'll be okay, you're a strong and intelligent little being who just needs some encouragement after having the rug pulled out from under you.

Drift

·He's developed a sensitivity to your moods even from a distance, so he's up and inbound the instant he feels your pain, running to your side no matter where you may be. Nothing can stop him from getting you somewhere safe and free from outside pressures, so anyone looking to stop him will need to clear a path for their own safety. The strength of his glare alone is usually all he needs to secure free passage to his destination.

·Having endured emotional agony, he knows that you need comfort given at your own pace, and the freedom to express that pain however you wish. His much bigger frame is there to hold you as tightly as you want, his digits stroking your back as he gently whispers the soothing reassurances you need most. There's no shame in letting your emotions free, he reminds you, holding your tiny body securely to his chest.

·Rest will be a must to recover, as he knows that pain can sap ones strength, so he insists you take the time to heal and sleep. Whatever you've endured, you deserve to move at a steady pace from here on, and he'll make sure no one dares to rush you. Caring for your body is important, and though he knows your organic frame may seem weak compared to his own, enduring what you have is far more impressive than taking any kind of blaster fire.

·He'll insist on bringing your meals to you when it first comes time to replenish your body. Though pain can reduce our appetite, we have to eat and drink, and he encourages you to consume what you can. A few sips, a few bites, every little action is a step towards recovery. His awe at your strength is shared quite regularly as he holds you on request, nuzzling his body against yours to show his desire to comfort.

·A firm believer in keeping energy positive and gentle, he won't be allowing a single cross word against you. It doesn't matter what anyone tries to say, you deserve to heal and be respected in your position, and unless that is provided the attempted intruder is always turned away. It becomes his greatest focus as you heal; to remind you that nothing changes the fact you are entitled to basic respect and care in any situation.

Cygate

·For such different bots, their response is quite unified. Whoever hurt you needs to get away fast, very fast, while they come in and try to determine the best way to help you. The tiny Tailgate is cradling you in an instant, buzzing out reassurances and nearly reduced to tears by the sight of you in so much pain. Cyclonus is more tactful, but he too is struck by your pain, and he lifts Tailgate to have the two of you safe in his colossal arms.

·These two are no strangers to pain, but it's only quite recently that they learned to start working their vastly different personalities together, and they put their teamwork to the test for you. Tailgate attends to your physical needs for comfort, either cuddling you or simply stroking your back or whatever makes you feel safest. Cyclonus focuses on what you need to start feeling better. Should anyone need to be taught a lesson, he'll gladly ensure they never get near you again.

·Whatever you need will be provided, even if it's just to be free to let out your pain, they both understand what it means to be open and let your emotions do what they must. It hurts, but they know you're a strong person just for enduring as you have. Now they wish to be strong for you, even if only for a little while, so that you may finally have a chance to relax.

·Cyclonus is gentle beyond what anyone would believe him capable of, his clawed digits careful as he strokes their smooth sides along your back or cheek to offer the comfort of his unshakeable presence. There will be no one hurting you again, he promises, and as long as you need him he will be here. The rumble of his voice soothes the tension in your body as you finally begin to rest.

·Tailgate brings whatever you request with incredible speed. He frets over your blankets and keeping you fed, but is more than capable of being gentle and quiet like his mate if that's what you prefer. If it helps, he has you held between them, free to take as much time as you need to recover. These two are an immovable wall of love and protection at your disposal, and they will never leave you unguarded, as you deserve to be safe wherever you go.

[thiswasinevitableid]

94 for sternclay for the winter prompts??? Especially if trans stern because I love that for him:’) either nsfw or sfw, hope you have a wonderful day!!!!! Your writing is a gift

Thank you so much!  I went with NSFW, and Stern is indeed trans.

94. you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before 

The things he does to pay for culinary school. 

It’s not the catering gig that’s bothering him; he takes pride in making food at conferences and office parties better than expected. It’s the fucking red, white, and green uniforms they’re making them wear for this one. It’s hot, itchy, and he really would prefer to wear the winter sweater Thacker gave him last year. It’s rustic but festive. It’s also sitting in his car, because no one told him about these uniforms until he got here. 

You can’t spring a surprise uniform on a guy who’s 6’4 and 190 pounds. The vest digs into his stomach, the jacket is too tight, and the pants don’t cover his ankles. 

It’s too bad, this party is pretty fun to work. It’s for a big-name publisher looking to seem hip, so the band is good and the decorations don’t look like the Macy’s Parade puked all over the room. 

The meals aren’t sit down, more a five hour cocktail party with canapes on trays and a spread of food at the back. Barclay sets out a new plate of crostini, wondering if they have enough fruit for the evening, when someone taps his shoulder. 

“How can I help-”

“I need a refill.” James, his ex, smirks at him.

“Not the bartender.” Barclay picks up the empty tray. 

“So?”

“I stopped being the guy to refill your drinks when you dumped me. Go ask whatever poor sap you dragged to this to do it for you.”

“Poor sap? Barclay, you sound like one of those boring mysteries you always read.”

“I’m trying not to swear, I’m at work.”

“Too bad you left me-”

“You broke up with me”

“-You could be enjoying the party instead of serving lukewarm food in a ridiculous outfit. Then again, looking like a clown suits you.”

“Man, c’mon.” Barclay can’t get into it here, James is absolutely the kind of guy who will use it to get him fired.

“Not surprised you haven’t found someone who wants to put up with your whole puppy-dog routine. What good is all that bulk if you’re just a pus-”

“There you are.” An arm snakes around Barclays waist and he freezes. James stands up straight, plastering on a smile.

“I wish I’d know ahead of time this is where you were working tonight. It feels wrong to be out mingling when you’re stuck back here. Oh well, next year.” A soft kiss lands on his cheek and in his surprise he turns to look at it’s source. 

The man is almost his height, trimmer and dressed in a black suit with a blue and silver tie. He’s blue eyed, with jet black hair slicked back and a face that puts every movie star Barclay can name to shame.

Barclay has no fucking clue who he is, or if he’s mistaking Barclay for someone else. He doesn’t seem drunk enough for that. 

“Mr. Stern, it’s an honor to meet you, I, uh, this-”

“This must be the ex you told me about, right, big guy?” Mr. Stern sets a protective hand at the small of his back.

“Uh, yeah. Babe, this is James.”

“So, where at Penguin do you work?”

“I, um, oh, look, someone is calling me. Bye, Barclay, nice seeing you again.”

The hand doesn't leave his back until James is out of sight.

“I’m sorry. He was harassing you and that seemed like the fastest way to make him stop.” Mr. Stern is still standing proud, but his voice is now softer, almost shy. 

“That’s, uh, that’s totally fine. I really appreciate the help. Kinda surprise you saw flirting as more appealing than, like, pretending to be my boss or something.”

“He’d know I wasn’t, trust me. And don’t sell yourself short, Barclay.” Blue eyes lock onto him and scan all the way to his feet, “even a bad fitting uniform can’t hide what you have you offer.”

“Th-thanks.” He’s either going to hide behind the serving tray or ask this guy to take him home and he’s not sure which will reinforce Jame’s “puppy dog” taunt more.

The other man, sensing his discomfort, steps back, “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I know better than to flirt with someone who’s at work and can’t escape. I shouldn’t keep you from doing what you need to do.”

“I get off at nine.” He thwacks the tray over his mouth, “ow. Uh, and I don’t mind talking to you. If you want to. I, uh, I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend this whole party chatting with the help instead of having fun.”

A sigh, “I should go mingle. It’s really okay if I come back?”

“Yeah.” Barclay smiles. There’s no way this guy is coming back; if he’s here single, he’ll have a date in the next five minutes. 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s standing a respectful distance away and asking Barclay how this compares to other parties he’s worked.  

“Middle-ground. It’s not the one time I got to work my friends art gallery opening, and it’s not the wedding where someone tried to deck the bride with the chocolate fountain.”

“Oh my lord.” 

“I was in the line of fire and was washing chocolate out of my beard for an hour.”

“No one at home to do it for you?” It’s not subtle, and nor is the glance he gets over the rim of a cocktail glass. 

“Some things I’d rather not ask Mama’s help on.” 

“You still live with family?” There’s no judgement in that smooth voice, just genuine curiosity.

“Oh, no, Mama’s my...I mean she’s technically my boss but she’s also my friend, almost like an older sister. I live above where I work because she owns the whole building and takes in staff rent-free when she can. It’s nice working at her place, since I can cut my hours doing this.” He gestures to the nearby table of season fare, “which does mean I missed the attempted kabob-maiming last week. Relatedly, I’m happy this isn’t an all you can drink party.”

“You and me both. Two years ago Dean Koontz threw a punch. I think it was--oh, um, excuse me, work calls.”

This time, Barclay allows himself a moment of ogling as Stern walks away.

They pick up where they left off when the other man comes back, leading Barclay to mention he’s a cook at Amnesty Lodge .

“Wait, really? I love the Lodge, the food there is incredible.”

Barclay’s skin matches his terrible red pants, “Thanks. The head chef has been letting me do more of the menu and I’m really proud of it.”

“You should be. It’s perfect, although it’s a pity you being in the kitchen means I haven’t seen you sooner.”

He tries to say thank you again, but it comes out a garbled squeak

“Was that too far?”  

“Nope. Uh, it’s uh, just that I’m out of practice flirting or, like, getting compliments. They were pretty thin on the ground in my last relationship.”

“I see.” He’s learning to watch Stern’s eyes rather than the rest of his face, which hardly ever changes from it’s calm, professional set. Said eyes drip with disapproval. 

Old habits of defending people--even ones who are dicks to him--kicks in, “I mean, he kind of has a point. No one wants to date a six foot puppy. Guys like me are supposed to be all in-charge and shit like that.”

Stern raises an eyebrow, “maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Got any ideas on where I, uh, should be looking?” He takes a half-step towards Stern, standing up straighter. Stern doesn’t move an inch, but gives him a proud smirk. The pride is directed at Barclay.

“Lots. And I’ll share them as soon as you’re off the clock.”

“Don’t I even get a hint?” Another step.

“No, Barclay, you don’t. You’ll just have to show me you can be patient.” His tone changes, laced with the promise of a hidden prize that Barclay will do anything to earn. 

He just manages to whisper out “okay” as Stern is called away again. When he comes back, Barclay setting out clean plates and more silverware. They talk about restaurants, about Barclay’s friends and all the ways he tries to help them. Barclay endeavors to not go into full begging mode in public by looking at Sterns wrists rather than literally anywhere else on his body.

“What are those things in your cufflinks?”

“The Hodag. It’s a cryptid from Northern Wisconsin, and a really excellent example of completely fabricated cryptid that nevertheless goes on to have a life of it’s own. It’s very common in small towns, since if it goes well it acts a tourist draw. In fact, there’s some indication that even the Loch Ness Monster began as just such a hoax and-” He snaps his mouth shut, clears his throat, “sorry, I try not to talk shop at these things. It, um, tends to get on people’s nerves.”

“But I wanted to hear the rest. I mean, I have a high info-dumping tolerance because of one of my friends, but also you clearly know your stuff and I have no clue about any of it so please keep talking?”

Stern’s face is full of excitement, and he grows more animated as he talks. It’s the cutest goddamn thing Barclay’s ever seen, and he saw Dr. Harris Bonkers, his friend’s rabbit, as a baby bunny in a bow-tie. 

He clocks out two minutes after nine, and Stern is waiting for him near the doors to the staging room. 

“Are those the only clothes you have with you?”

“No. I have nicer stuff in the car that I planned on wearing.”

“Go get it. Here, I’ll walk down with you so you won’t have trouble getting back in the building.”

After jogging to his car while Stern waits for him in the gold and silver tinseled lobby, the older man guides him to an elevator. He’s pretty sure Stern is older than him; he’s a big deal, but not in some sort of prodigy way, which means he needed some time to get so well-known. 

They’re so busy coming up with Cryptid-themed ice cream flavors that Barclay doesn’t notice the floor number until they step out into a darkened hall.

If Stern brought him up here so they could have a quick fuck, he’ll jump for joy. 

“My office is this way. I figure you might like changing not in front of your co-workers or in a bathroom.”

Damn it, why does he have to be considerate instead of horny?

The office Stern brings him to is modestly sized with a huge bank of windows on the one side, facing out over the city. From here he can see apartments, stores, restaurants, all lit up in festive colors, trees dotting the little boxes of light. 

Stern locks the door, leans back against it, and nods at the clothes in Barclays arms, “Put them on.”

“Here?” He eyes the wide windows, the fact that the other man makes no move to leave or turn around.

“Yes.”

He manages, around the heart trying to hammer up his throat, “Are, uh, are you gonna watch?”

“Do you want me too?” There it is, the immediate softness in his voice, and Barclay understands that if he says no, he’ll have his privacy.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He reaches for the vest, gets the first button and goes for the second in a hurry. 

Stern raises his hand in a ‘pause’ gesture, “Slow down.”

“Yes, yes Mr. Stern.”

A gentle laugh, “Not quite, big guy. Were we anywhere else, I’d tell you to call me Joseph. But here..” he tucks his hands casually into his front pockets, “here you call me sir.”

“Fuck”  Barclay battles himself to keep his pace slow, needing to be good but also so turned on he’s afraid he’ll start humping the furniture. He forces himself to wait a count of two between each button, gets his vest and shirt off without further instruction. Stern watches him the entire time in silent appreciation. His shoes and pants are more awkward to take off while standing, and he braces himself on the desk, not wanting to sit without permission. 

Then he’s standing there in nothing but his black boxers and the lights of town, laughter floating from the party while Stern studies him like a menu. 

“Fold every and set it on the chair.” 

He follows orders, boggles at getting hard from someone telling him to fold laundry. Jesus, Stern hasn’t even touched him. Is he even planning to? Barclay can’t decide which option he likes better. He returns to his spot in front of the desk, hands folded in front of him. 

“Should I, uh, get dressed, sir?”

Stern pushes off the door, walking casually over like a shopper regarding a display, “That depends; do you want to do back to the party with your cock hard enough to hammer nails?”  He glances down, then back up with a pointed stare. 

“N-not really.”

Stern raises an eyebrow. 

“Not really, sir.”

“Then we’ll have to do something about it.”

“Are you sure we should do it here?”

“Barclay, if we get caught, I’ll be twice as mortified as you. I’m only doing this because we’ve got this whole floor to ourselves.” He cups Barclay’s cheek and the sighs, rubbing his face against a warm palm. 

“Okay sir, I trust you.”

A moan curls up between them as Stern’s other hand runs along his chest.

“Good boy. You like to be good, don’t you, Barclay? You like taking care of people?” 

“Yes, so much sir, please, lemme be good to you.”

Joseph strokes his face, “That’s very thoughtful, Barclay. But I think it’s been awhile since someone took care of you. Would you like me to do that?”

“Please, sir.” The response is pulled from him, one of the many parts of him aching magnetically to be near to Stern. 

The other man shoves his right hand down Barclays boxers, sliding his thumb over the head once before stroking steadily up and down. 

“Holy fuck” Stern gasps, “a guy could have a lot of fun with this thing.”

“It’s all yours, sir.” 

Fuck, where did that come from?

Stern groans, tips his head to kiss across Barclays chest, murmuring as he does, “Is that what you want, Barclay? You want this” he speeds up until Barclay’s hands fly to the edge of the desk, keeping him from dropping to the floor, “to be mine?”

He whines, nodding.

Stern’s hand stops.

“Yessir”

It starts up again, “what else do you want, big guy?” He’s still kissing all over his upper body, tone nonchalant.

“You, sir, I wanna fuck you or, or you can fuUUUck me if you want, not very good at bottoming-”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Stern lightly pinches his nipple, “what else?”

“I want to blow you, and, and FUCK, I bet you’re a fucking great kisser and I want you to fucking boss me around as much as you want, wanna wear a collar, a blue one, ohfuck” Barclay scrapes his nails along the woodgrain, “fuck, sorry, that was weird-”

“No, say more” his grip tightens and to Barclay’s surprise he’s panting, “tell me everything you want, even it’s got nothing to do with sex.”

“I want, fuck, to be tied up and told how good I am, want to wear something stealth sexy out in public, want to fuck in a cabin” his mouth is fully ahead of his mind, which is concentrated entirely in his dick right now, “want to eat at every five star place in the city, want to drag you places by that fancy tie, have a new car, buy any cookbook I see, I want, oh fuckohfuck, sir, I wanna cum please, want to so bad.”

“You can cum whenever you like, big guy. But you have to kiss me while you d-” 

He cuts Stern off with a kiss, clinging to his shoulders and pouring desperate, deep sounds down his throat. Stern kisses back with precision and a pleased moan when Barclay cums in his boxers. 

Stern eases his hand out and Barclay flops against him, face buried in his neck as he rumbles out a thank you. 

“D-do you want me to blow you, sir?”

Stern kisses below his ear, “Yes, but that’s not doable right now. Unlike you, I don't have a change of clothes, and something tells me you’re a, um,” he bites Barclays ear, “messy eater.”

“Only when I’m enjoying myself, sir.” 

“You don’t have to keep calling me that, unless it helps you come down.”

“I’m okay, Joseph. Heh” he smiles, inhales a minty cologne, “I like that name. It’s classic.”

“Thanks, I picked it myself.”

Barclay chuckles, snuggles closer while ignoring the sticky underwear. 

“You know, I can give you everything you want. If you want me to.”

“Some of those are really fucking expensive, babe.”

“You really have no clue who I am, do you?” Stern steps back, moving to the other side of the desk and pulling out a packet of wet-wipes, sliding one across to Barclay before cleaning his hands.

“A really cute guy who should let me take him to dinner?” Barclay pulls down his underwear to clean the cum from his stomach.

“Ever heard of Lucky Park?”

“No fucking way. I man, I know it’s a pen name, but there’s no fucking way, a guy who’s never off the NYT Bestseller list wouldn't fuck a nobody cook.”

“If the cook was hot and interesting to talk to he would. The kitchen skills help a little.” Stern winks

“But you wrote The Peregrine Quintent,  and Red Dust, jesus christ your stuff has been movies.”

“Now you see why James was so startled; I’m Penguins golden goose. That’s why I even have time to write books on cryptids; they know to indulge me. Plus I put out at least a book every two years for them and it always makes a fortune. Do you need to sit down? You look kind of lightheaded.”

“I’m fine, uh, just trying to make sense of it all. Also I can’t sit down unless you want my bare ass on your chair.”

“Another time. I guess you’re going commando for the rest of the party, but I think you can handle it, big guy.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” He grabs his pants and pulls them on, “holy fuck, this can’t be real, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Barclay” Stern touches his arm, “it absolutely makes sense. I had so much fun talking with you, you’re such a, um, a sweetheart. And you’re built like a wet dream. If, um, if this is too much too soon, tell me to back off but I, I’m serious. I can’t remember the last time I got butterflies like this around someone, or wanted to buy things or do things just to make them smile. You clearly look after so many people in your life; will you let me look after you, at least for a little while?”

“You really want to?”

“Unlike some people, I like big men with a gentle center. You can be my six foot puppy any time. Wait, hold on, that, um, that came out weird.” Stern giggles and Barclay, now dressed, pulls him into a kiss. 

“I get it, babe. You wanna go show me off?”

“Of course. I’ll get my camera ready; we have to record your exes reaction.” Stern kisses his cheek, “after all, maybe this will teach him to know a good man when he sees one.”

[summer-of-blossoms]

Founder Trio Festival, Day 4: Tōrō Nagashi/Estrangement

Warnings: Anxiety attack, mentions of death (not of the trio)

It should have been the three of them, standing there on the riverbank. It had been them over the past years. And even though one of them had refused to join in the past couple of years, it still felt incomplete.

Kaoru gazed out at the floating lanterns, only half focused on the soft light as he tugged a sleeve of his yukata. He couldn't help the glances he shot to his left and right. The empty spaces. One that would remain empty, and one that should have been filled by now.

Kojiro was late. Which wasn't surprising, to be fair. He'd said he'd pick up the lanterns. Kaoru's bag sat by his feet, containing his brushes and ink, ready to decorate whenever the moron decided to show up.

The lanterns blurred, and his head spun. He twisted the fabric between his fingers, trying to draw in a full breath. What if, like Adam, Kojiro had decided he was done with their little group? Was a pair of people even considered a group anymore?

Right around the time that his hands started to shake and his legs were threatening to give out, a pair of hands were under his jaw, tipping his head up.

And there was Kojiro, a halo of lanterns lit in the background around his body.

"Hey." He gave Kaoru a soft smile. "You're going to bite that lip ring out one day."

Kaoru sputtered, swatting away the hands and turning his back, sitting by his bag, cheeks burning while Kojiro went to retrieve the lanterns that he had hastily set on a stone ledge.

"As if," Kaoru muttered half-heartedly. "I'm fine."

"I mean, there's a lot changing lately. Nothing wrong with being anxious." Kojiro sat beside him, placing the lanterns on the pavement in front of them. And after a long pause where he stared out at the water while Kaoru set out the brushes, he added. "You were thinking about him again, weren't you?"

"No!" Kaoru snapped, fingers fumbling over the cap of the ink bottle. "W-why would I be thinking about that… that…" he couldn't even come up with a good insult for Adam.

"I miss him too."

"No one asked you." Kaoru sighed in relief when the cap finally came free and he set the ink between them. Whenever Kojiro focused on something, he was usually quiet. When he snuck a glance, Kojiro had his tongue poking out, laying out lines of black on one panel of his lantern, blessedly quiet, and so he turned his attention to his own lantern. He should think of his ancestors, not a living friend. Though he supposed, in a way, the Adam they'd boarded with in their teens was gone.

As if reading his thoughts, Kojiro reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "He should have been here with us."

Kaoru should argue. Deny it vehemently. But Kojiro's hand was warm through fabric, holding firm and grounding him. As always, Kojiro's mere presence made him more comfortable, so instead, he took a deep breath.

"Yeah, he should be," he agreed, looking back over at Kojiro's lantern when his hand fell away. "Who's name is that?"

"Hmm?" Kojiro looked up and Kaoru laughed at the streak of ink along his jaw.

"Once a clumsy gorilla," Kaoru whispered, tugging up the sleeve of his dark yukata to wipe at the streak. Kojiro's eyes met his, and Kaoru's breath caught in his throat. This close, and in the low light, Kojiro's eyes seemed to waver between soft red and hard rubies, and Kaoru had to turn away. He clung to his lantern and forced his mouth to form words. "So, that name?"

"Oh, that's a great aunt," Kojiro muttered. "Dad told me she passed away recently. And, well…" He was hesitating. That was never a good sign.

"Just spit it out."

"She left all the cousins some money. A good sum of money," Kojiro blurted.

"Money?" Kaoru's head whipped over. Kojiro was looking out to the river, at the sky, the pavement, anywhere but at Kaoru. "Then that means…"

"I can go to culinary school now."

"That's great!" Kaoru's voice clearly said the exact opposite of 'great.' "Are you going to the one you showed us?"

"The one in Italy? Yeah, probably."

"So then…" Kaoru didn't want to ask. Didn't want to think of how much or how little time they had left together. Or how Kojiro would leave him, just like Adam did. Though that wouldn't be correct. They still got along. Kojiro hadn't changed. He didn't want to ask, but he had to know. "When do you leave?"

"Before the month is out. I've been looking at dorms and stuff."

Kaoru's entire body locked up, and he nearly snapped the brush. He focused on his breathing, trying his hardest to keep it steady. And was failing miserably as his breaths kept coming quicker and shorter.

"Hey, hey. Kaoru. Look at me."

But Kaoru couldn't. He stared down at the brush in his shaking hand until it blurred. It was late summer. He shouldn't be this cold.

"I said look, Pinky." Hands came back to his jaw, surely streaking him with ink as well. But the black smudges distracted him just enough, and he focused on Kojiro's face until it came into focus.

"Thanks. Wait. Pinky?" Kaoru brandished his brush. "Why I ought to…" he trailed off as Kojiro started laughing. He caught Kaoru's hand, thumb resting on his palm with a squeeze, holding their hands together as best he could with a brush in the way.

"Gotcha out of your head, didn't it?"

"Idiot," Kaoru mumbled, trying to jerk away, but Kojiro held tight.

"Listen to me, Kaoru. Just because I'm going away, doesn't mean we have to stop talking. You've got my number. Call me day or night. Whenever you're on the verge of an anxiety attack. Or if you just want to call me names. Even if you want to blather on about whatever. Ok? I don't want you to feel like you're alone."

"I forget how much of a sentimental sap you can be." Kaoru bit down on his lip ring, willing his eyes not to tear up. "Fine." He tried to spit the word in Kojiro's face, but it came out gently, making Kojiro break into his sappy soft smile that Kaoru absolutely didn't love. No, sir. Not one bit. "Thanks." And for once there wasn't a trace of sarcasm.

"Besides," Kojiro turned away, going back to his lantern. "I bet you anything that we'll all wind up together again someday, and it'll be just like the old days. You, me, and Adam. We'll skate together again someday."

[harley-style]

If you still want to do the hijack short prompts: finding a new dragon?

[I know I said I wanted ‘short prompts’ BUT THIS ENDED UP SUPER LONG, SO HAVE A ONE-SHOT INSTEAD.]

It was supposed to be a romantic flight. Hiccup had spent a week preparing for this. Just him and Jack (and Toothless, but his dragon knew how to make himself scarce) and the starry night sky, the world at their fingertips.

He'd made sure everything on Berk was settled ahead of time.

He'd made his dad promise to handle the incoming problems for just a day. He'd done it for 14 years, what's one more day, right?

And he made sure the Dragon Riders were all occupied, courtesy of Astrid and Snotlout. That had been a surprise. He'd never expected his cousin to fully support him on this endeavor, but Snotlout had showcased a surprising amount of maturity.

("He's been snapping worse and worse lately, Astrid! I don't want Hiccup to snap at me next, he might send me back to the Dark Deep and you KNOW I hate going there alone!"

"Oh for Freyja's sake Snotlout, will you shut up and help me ensure Hiccup and Jack finally have some alone time together?”)

So it was the perfect set up. He wasn't busy, Toothless could take him anywhere (so could Jack, but there was something special about flying on dragon-back that Hiccup wanted to share with his intended) and Hiccup had scoped out the most perfect location to just sit back and enjoy themselves.

Of course, plans don't always survive first contact.

It was just his luck that there was a dragon that had made its home on the colder than average island Hiccup had been planning to take Jack to.

And what was worse, even Toothless made a valiant effort to ignore the wailing cries. Hiccup had tried to convince Jack that he'd get everyone to check it out tomorrow, but he'd been pinned with a rather harsh look from the winter spirit, who then promptly unwrapped his arms around Hiccup's waist and purposely fell from the saddle.

Which in turn led to this.

"Aren't you precious," Jack cooed uncharacteristically, cradling the newborn dragon in his arms, the snow dragon mewling back and further curling up in the spirit's arms.

Resigned, Hiccup took out his notebook and began taking notes about the dragon cub they'd found. It looked strikingly similar to Toothless, but it was colored like a glacier of ice, its scales looking like frost had made itself home on the dragon's body.

The wing-tips, tail, and extra fins at the start of the tail were sharper than a typical Night Fury, as well.

One of the reasons Hiccup even pegged it as similar to a Night Fury was due to the damning feline behavior it was currently showcasing to his beloved.

"Maybe you aren't the last of your kind after all, huh bud?" Hiccup caressed Toothless' scales, eliciting a warbling noise in response. Hiccup watched as Jack fawned over the Tiny Tooth, playing with its claws and nuzzling its scales in delight.

Jack was really good with children. Even dragon children, it seemed.

And that knowledge....it DID things, to Hiccup.

Jack just looked so soft when handling kids. He might've looked like a troublemaker to most, but Hiccup knew that underneath all that bratty exterior lay a kind and compassionate soul who loved children just as much as Hiccup loved dragons.

He didn't realize he'd stopped writing in his notebook until Toothless nudged him gently with a questioning grumble.

"Hics, there something you wanna say?" Jack teased, peeking at him slyly from behind a curtain of white hair. He'd evidently caught on to the fact that Hiccup had been dumbly staring at the spirit for more than a few moments.

But Hiccup was nothing if not quick on his feet. Foot. Foot and metal prosthetic.

"Oh, nothing much, just waiting on you," he replied, grabbing hold of Jack's waist and pulling him against his chest. Gently, of course, he didn't want to startle the little one. "You're quite taken on him."

"Her," Jack quietly corrected, seeing the dragon in his arms peek curiously at the Viking, but not having enough bravery to leave the spirit's arms. The little dragon burrowed further into Jack's arms once Toothless crawled closer to the couple, curious about the young dragon as well.

"Huh. You can tell?" Hiccup asked, leaning his head against Jack's tuft of white locks. He absolutely loved the height difference between them now that he'd grown into his age. Call it a small petty payback from when Jack used to use his own head as an armrest.

Besides, if he wasn't getting his ideal date, the least he could do was shower his Snowflake with affection.

Jack nodded, staring up at him fondly, knowing exactly what Hiccup was doing, and not giving him any malice from it. That was another thing Hiccup loved about Jack. He clearly loved jokes, played them all the time, and when the joke was turned on him, he was a good sport about it. As long as the joke didn't touch sensitive topics, Jack saw the humor in everything.

"Her kind's a part of my domain..." Jack said, leaning more into Hiccup's hold. "Ice and snow. I don't know how. I can just tell."

"So I see," Hiccup carefully held his free arm out to the dragon, letting it come to him. "Do you want to keep her?" They watched as the ice dragon slowly sniffed at Hiccup's hand, and began to warily nuzzle into it, trusting the human more and more once she saw that Hiccup would not hurt her.

"Can I?" Jack asked, chuckling as the dragon barked curiously at Toothless, fear and caution all but blown to the wind now. Toothless happily warbled and nosed his new friend, yelping when a tiny ice blast hit his face.

Hiccup shrugged. "Sure. What are you gonna name her, though?" There was certainly plenty of room on Dragon's Edge. And Jack was more of a free spirit who hung around Berk merely because his boyfriend lived there. It was never a question about space.

"Elsa," Jack said, smile on his lips. Hiccup recognized the look. It was one of Jack's secret smiles, one that said 'I find it funny, but I know none of you get it and I'm going to sit here basking in the irony of it all.'

It was one of Jack's most common looks. Hiccup knew why the look existed, but his friends and village did not. He had to admit though, it was pretty funny seeing his friends try and fail to figure out why Jack had that particular look about him at oddly specific points.

"Am I getting context or what?" Hiccup nudged Jack.

Jack laughed merrily. "Oh, its not anything big. Just a really, really infamous...story from back home."

Hiccup rose a skeptical eyebrow. "How infamous are we talking here?" It was always fun, gathering bits and pieces of where Jack came from, slowly piecing together a puzzle about Jack's background.

Jack had to turn away and bit his lips from laughing too hard. By this point the newly dubbed Elsa had jumped out of the spirit's arms and was playing with Toothless in some sort of contrived dragon game.

"I'll tell you about it...later," Jack decided, once he finally managed to get his laughter in check. He was clutching his staff tightly, another hand covering his mouth. Hiccup shrugged and opened up his notebook again, seeing as Toothless was inadvertently giving him more information about what Elsa's kind was like.

After a few minutes, Jack spoke up again. "Hiccs?"

Hiccup hummed in response, motioning for Jack to continue.

"I'm really sorry this date thing didn't go the way you were planning it to...I know you wanted it to be only about us."

Hiccup abruptly stopped writing and turned to look at Jack, who wasn't looking at him and hanging his head in shame.

"It's fine, Jack," Hiccup tried to reassure, but Jack made a frustrated noise and held up a hand.

"I'm going to stop you right there dragon boy. Let me finish." Jack rubbed his forehead. "I know how much effort you put into making sure nothing would distract us today, okay? You were busier than ever these past few days." He turned towards Hiccup, leaning against his staff once they were face-to-face.

"I mean...that is true," Hiccup agreed carefully. He'd never lie to Jack.

Jack laughed wryly. "I just had to go ruin that, didn't I?"

Hiccup's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Jack pointed his staff at the two dragons. "I couldn't ignore that, Hiccup. You've been looking forward to this date all week and I had to brush it all aside the moment I see a dragon."

Hiccup...gets it, he does, but it would be a bit hypocritical of him to truly be upset at Jack if it were the case. "You don't seem to mind when I do it," Hiccup says.

Jack rolled his eyes. "That's because those dates were all instigated by me, babe. And very impromptu. I fully expect you to veer off-course when there's a new dragon around, you fire-breathing nerd."

"I understand you're speaking words, but I don't understand what they mean," Hiccup snarked in reply.

"Don't be a jerk. Anyway, my dates are clearly spontaneous, very prone to distractions. I don't mind that. But I do feel bad when my boyfriend went through all the effort of planning our perfect little date, only to get detoured by a dragon who, by all accounts, isn't in danger or dying," Jack sighed and looked away.

He only looks back at Hiccup because the viking cups a hand around his cheek and turns the spirit's head towards him. "Look," Hiccup said. "I know I acted a little annoyed when you wanted to check this out, back then."

Jack grimaced but nodded.

"And I appreciate that you actually noticed, and I accept your apology, however long-winded the explanation may have taken for me to get it." Jack snorted at that.

"But," Hiccup lifted his other hand to cup Jack's other cheek. "In the long run, it doesn't matter. Jack, I love you. I love you a lot. And as long as you're with me, and I'm with you, I honestly don't care what we're doing. I just want to do it with you by my side. That's all I could really want."

"You big sap," Jack teased, warmth in his eyes. Frost dusted his cheeks, and the only reason Hiccup knew was because he was still holding Jack's face in his hands. "Are you going to kiss me, or what?"

"It was on the agenda," Hiccup cheekily replied, glad that the doubt and guilt plaguing his boyfriend's mind was finally clear.

Jack let himself get pulled in by Hiccup's arm, until they were pressed against each other. Jack circled his arms around Hiccup's neck, and leaned in.

A few meters away, Toothless began herding Elsa further from the two, knowing they would be fully occupied by each other for a while.

For a very long while.

The things he did for his human.

[A/N: Where’s the tag system why isn’t it here? Anyway thank you for the prompt! It was sitting in my inbox for a few days but I had some motivation today so I figured I could write this. It was supposed to be short, but...clearly my hands have other ideas. For the other prompts I received a while back, maybe send me an ask about it? Thanks.

Also, more notes about this HiJack AU:

-Jack’s definitely from the events of ROTG. He’s not ‘stuck’ in the era of vikings, per se, but he can definitely travel to and fro. Because reasons.

-Hiccup knows Jack’s from a distant future. He just doesn’t know what’s IN the distant future and doesn’t care much about it unless it directly relates to Jack.

-None of the others but Toothless knows about Jack’s situation. Jack’s a little shit that leads them on and has them guessing. Astrid has stopped trying to attack Jack about it when she realizes Hiccup knows what Jack is hiding. That’s apparently good enough for her to trust Jack.

-This happens roughly before the second movie. I mean, duh. But it happens after RTTE.

-If you don’t know what dragon I used, it’s called the Ice Fury, a fan-made dragon in the HTTYD fanon wiki. Takes a bit of searching to actually find it, but I found a good pic of what I imagine it to look like:

-just imagine a baby form of that, thanks.

-Yes I did indeed name her after Frozen’s Elsa. Fight me.

-I’m of the personal headcanon that not all Night Furies, subspecies or otherwise, are extinct. In this AU, they aren’t. They’re just a lot more south than the Vikings are used to. They’re rather north-bound, aren’t they?

-I honestly don’t know why I put so much thought into a one-shot that isn’t going to be continued in any way. If you want to take inspiration from this AU, go ahead, I don’t mind. Just be sure to credit the appropriate sources. Including me.