#so I thought this vulnerability from my part could do someone some good as it does for me when other people are vulnerable

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: Sylus has always lived a lonely life, unfamiliar with pleasant company. Being with you again is something he must get used to. He's learning how to, and so are you.

Warnings: Lowkey doesn't make sense because the author is exhausted but wanted to churn something out for you guys. Also mentions of blood. Might be a little angsty.

Author's note: I've gotten busy recently, so I won't be able to write as often. Sorry! I come bearing lowkey dependant Sylus. Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Throughout his life, Sylus has spent all his time alone. No one would count enemies as company, even if they do trail him and keep an eye on his every move. They were the ones who wanted to see him fall off his throne; cause and spectate his suffering. A walking target. Sure, he had Mephisto and the twins he took under his wing... But could a mechanical bird count as a friend? Or a pair of twins who work directly under him, following his commands? No, that is obedience.

Sylus did not have anyone to call his own. No one to trade secrets with or share his warmth. And in turn it has made him cold, self-reliant, for he cannot trust in another person. He had never learned how. But he takes comfort in the teachings he does know— the ones of his only love. Melodies dance in the air, a comforting tune. He attempts to hum along, taking pride in the fact that he is able to unlike the past. A respite he is allowed to have in this harsh world.

When the both of you are reunited— albeit, unknowingly on your part— Sylus is at a loss. He had thought that you, too, would remember the past just as he did. Yet you stare into his eyes with the guarded malice of a stranger. It is a gaze he should be used to by now. And he is... Just not from you. Where has his beloved's familiar softness gone? Only your fierce claws and teeth remain. Sylus does not know how to fix this. He was never taught to build relationships or tenderly lower defenses with the patience of a saint.

Your relationship is rocky at first; like oil and water. Both of your lives are completely different from the other. With the Hunter Association actively hunting down Sylus, whatever you have with him is illegal. Forbidden. Although... Surely they would not mind if you stuck around? Gathering intel for them could be useful in the future. This is fine, you are simply using him, you are not delusional. Humans have always desired for what they cannot have.

“You're sticking around for intel on Onychinus? Well then, be my guest. Don't be shy when using me.” Sylus's sardonic smile is etched into your mind.

He tells no one that being of use to you is the only way he knows how to keep you close to him.

Be disgusted, you will yourself. Be repulsed, resent him for all he has done and will do. You will only come to regret being so entangled with his life. This is insane and you are supposed to be a good, law-abiding citizen of Linkon. A hunter. Yet you cannot help feeling like prey— engulfed by a predator who kills and comes back to you with blood soaked hands. Most times, even his own. How will you ever learn to hate someone who learned to be vulnerable with you?

Over time, you start to notice that Sylus is quite... lonely. You are the only one who checks up on him, through text or call. The only one who visits, who teases and jokes, who surprises. You, you, you. Comfortable and happy with someone so dangerous. So of course he eventually craves your presence in your absence. Sylus will make up whatever excuse, put himself in any situation, just to be able to spend some time with you. When it ends, he is distraught.

“You're abandoning me when I'm no longer useful to you? Your skill in being heartless is assuring.” His tone is teasing, as always. But his eyes hold a far-off melancholy.

It feels as though your heart has been punctured with shattered pieces of a fragile thing.

“Abandon? You're sorely mistaken. Useful or not, you're stuck with me, you have no other choice.” You reach out, grabbing his hand.

Something new for Sylus to learn; that you will not throw him away when he does not serve any purpose to you. You are his companion— his beloved who cares for and loves him. Not because you owe him or as an obligation. Simply because you do. And you are both still learning. It will be okay. Having each other means neither of you will ever have to face the cruelties of this world alone.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Updating by writing you guys this huge post. I mean it, it's really long xD

Heeey-ho!

I know, I know, I couldn't keep my Halloween promise T-T

Tha Halloween gods are now shouting at me "HOW COULD YOU?!"

Die Halloween gods, slowly coming after me - black and white edition

As it has happened before, I'll be posting both Dante and Vergil's part during november. I'm still working on them, so it might take a while. Do apologise.

They will be here, just with a little delay. I do think Halloween should last more than just a few days, so screw it, until Christmas, it's still legal to celebrate Halloween at the Bibliothéque \o/

Now, now, for those who don't like too much talking, I'll be explaining a little bit below why I'm taking so long. Feel free to skip it if you don't want to read it, no worries ;)

(There's a "conclusion and TL;DR for those who don't want to read this whole novel" in pink down there if you want to scroll down to that point!)

As *not* expected, my health took a crazy downturn. I know I say it all the time, but hell, I've no idea what gives this time. I literally stopped everything. I spend most of the day in pain and the rest of it sleeping. That's it.

I have an appointment with my doctor next week, but I'm not too much hopeful. Last exams showed I have two ulcers - which means scarring and bleeding in the stomach - that can be literally anything.

Not gonna lie, I'm pretty worried it can be something worse than I was expecting, although it never even appeared to exist before, but well... My anxiety isn't exactly logic.

Secondly, as you guys might not know, I'm graduated in Law, worked as a lawyer for 5+ years before having a burnout and all those health issues (yeah, yeah, don't do what I've done, all that sort of thing). But something you don't know, and honestly probably only my close family knows and cares about, is that my graduation thesis was "The Conflict of Israel x Palestine and International Law".

I researched it for 3 years before defending my thesis, got a college prize for it, the professor who mentored me made a huge speech on how I proved "we women can do it on academia and research" and that my work was really nice. I'm not saying all this 'cause I'm boasting, I'm just saying I know what I'm talking about (because you know, who has never met a man who thinks their opinion is better than yours "just because" while you have a fucking huge CV on research and graduated with honors on the same matter but, somehow, you can't beat the opinion he just pulls out of his ass?).

All of this to say, I'm devastated by what's going on. This is more than politics to me. This was my thing, you know? I had a dream, stupid ~promising young woman~ dream of doing something with my intelligence to actually help people. To actually stop massacres of happening. I wanted to work at the UN, I wanted to speak with world leaders, to show people how much I can research and how much basic human rights matter so horrid things cannot happen ever again.

When the war broke and the bombings started, I followed the news. And then the news weren't reliable anymore. I started digging to find the truth - and hells, the truth is ugly and bloody. I think that's when all those last shards of dreams came crashing down. I thought I could do something, you know? Actually do something. But in the end, my parents were broke, I had to work to help at home, I kept sending my CV to the UN but I was never enough, and I just wasted my energy and health under the boots of someone who had more power and influence than me to break me and kill my career before it even started.

I felt so horribly powerless. So horribly broken. It seems stupid, but everything that is going on out there fells personal to me, I have history with it. And it broke me. Completely. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't force myself to at least watch the horrible things going on and try to like/share so the algorithm can make it reach other people.

That's all I can do.

You know, I have a lot of Vergil in me. For the things I wrote, I think you all can see I have a thing of "I never want to feel pain again and I want power so no one can never hurt me again" - that's why I think I want to kick his ass every time I see this fucking man being so emotionally constipated and ruthless because of his trauma. It's a way to protect himself, burning every path so he never feels powerless again - and I guess we all HATE to see the parts of our own personalities we hate the most in someone elese

So yeah. I know things took a dark turn on this one, but I decided to be honest with you guys - since I'm owing so many updates: the 2 Halloween fics, Nemesis and Survivor's Blood. I'm not really well currently, and only the gods know how much effort I'm making to keep it together... At least a little bit.

Physically, I'm like V. And I'm not even trying to be funny, every time I see that lil' goth twink I want to yeet him away because, hell, I'm MAD I see myself in him (mind you, I used to be more on Dante's side of the fitness spectre xD) - and not only regarding fitness, but tiredness. Falling apart. It's so... Harrowing. I think that's the word that fits the feeling better.

Mentally, I'm Vergil. I don't want to, I want to beat him with a stick, I want to yell at his face and kick his stupid ass, but damn. I get it. That crippling fear of not wanting to feel powerless again, to have people abuse you? The feeling you're trapped in your own body? The "feelings bring only pain and suffering"? The terrifying dread of discovering you failed at everything even with all your talents and never wanting to admit it? Check all of those. I hate you Vergil, but I get you.

I'm trying, though. I use writing as a coping mechanism and as a way to resolve many things mentally, but the last months have felt SO overwhelming I went back to my paralysed state of not being able to do anything and running away from things that remind me of all THAT.

You guys might be alarmed, but there's no reason to be, though. This is a ~moment~ I'm going through and I just need to sort it all out. I'm starting to get some warning signs of numbness, vivid nightmares of past issues, the paralysis, avoidance - but I've been there before. I just haven't figured out a way to pull myself together and I don't even remember how I did that once, so it might take me some time.

I don't know why, I had some sort of weird ~boost~ while thinking in the shower today, and I might know how to give the small steps to start getting back on track and gaining that momentum I need. This weekend I had to convince my mom to celebrate her birthday 'cause she's my Samwise Gamgee carrying me up Mount Doom and she wasn't in a mood to do so - therefore on monday, I have some things in mind to discuss with her and, hopefully, things will slowly go back to their place.

Conclusion and TL;DR for those who don't want to read this whole novel hahaha

THAT BEING SAID: I'm really sorry I can't deliver everything I wanted to you, guys. I didn't expect life to get so much more fucked up than it already was, but here we are. I just have to get used to the new pace of things, but it might take a while. My output of writing will be slow, but hey, after I can get out of that paralysis phase, I'll probably be writing more and posting more - 'cause I really, really love this. With all my heart.

(also, if you people see me active on my drawing thing, posting a bunch of things, it's 'cause I'm finally getting to look at all the art I've done but never posted and actually updating it and putting my art blog to some use I haven't in a while - I won't be creating new stuff. All old stuff I procrastinated as HELL and those will be some of my small steps to get out of this rut)

Now, as a last thing, I intend to use a video from a guy I always watch on youtube as some sort of guiding light in these trying times hahahaha but seriously, he has some really sound advice and he is so down to earth. Maybe someone who's going through some fucked up times can use his advice as well and unfuck their life too :)

That's it. I felt like I needed some raw honesty today. Like I said, small steps. This is part of it hahahaha

I hope you guys understand. There's nothing I love more than writing, creating something for people - and all of this, everyone I met here and every single person that uses their time, which is the most precious thing we have, to read something I wrote gives me the greatest gift I can be given. You guys have no idea how much I appreciate you and how much I don't want to disappoint you.

So thank you. I will work slowly and I will need some time to get my shit together, but I'll always be here. I'll update everything I need and won't leave you hanging but you know... It's like Dracula Daily. It starts in April and finishes by the end of the year, taking time to put the letters together.

Aaaaand, if you read Lord of the Rings, the whole adventure takes a year. We are very much conditioned to be given content constantly to keep algorithms happy, but I do have a view that humans (and art for that matter) can't keep up with being content.

Zygmunt Bauman said we live in liquid times, and made the theory that everything is liquid nowadays (for people who like sociology and philosophy, I highly recommend his books, I love him with all my heart), so we're not really used to things that are a little more... Constant. Earthy, perhaps. Slow, stable, never leaving.

I try my best to be like that, not like a liquid, inconstant, fleeting presence. I want the things I do to be part of something that will stay, and I like being someone that stays - and doesn't just flow away because everything has to be fast and ever moving nowadays. The Bibliothéque is to be like that, I think, a place that no matter what, you can come back after ten months and you'll still find me here, drinking some tea and writing stuff. And I'll be happy to see you again, for as much as you can or would like to stay :)

kinda like Dante in his lil' shop :')

That's it. Thank you for reading me mumbling nonsensically in order to tell you I will keep updating my fanfiction, even if at a slow pace HAHAHAHAHAHA

Hope you guys have a fine weekend and a good next week! I'll be always lurking around, but the creation process will be a bit slow.

Will still be here to mumble randomly about DMC and scream random things in the void though :D

*me getting ready to tackle life for the next months, going like "still heeeeeeeeere bitch!!"*

***

And I'd like to add that I searched for "Obi Wan" on GIFs to find some sassy defying mood too add here and one of the first hits was this:

I'll leave you guys on this note 'cause I'm still wheezing about it, it's so friggin' on point I can't EVEN

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

how do you think leona would do if he falls in love?

Here are my thoughts in bullet-point/headcanon form for ease of reading! Key word there being my thoughts. (There will of course be different interpretations based on who you ask this question to.)

Standard disclaimer: These points are nothing more than my opinions and I am NOT saying my opinions are any more or less valid or “correct” than yours. Please, I’m not pre-book 1 Riddle/j It’s fine to have other takes; just remember to be mindful in how you communicate differences in opinion.

To start with, here's how I think Leona would deal with the experience of first love:

Firstly, I definitely feel that Leona is the type of person to not easily fall in love. There are many examples in canon of Leona rejecting the love he receives from others, whether it be from his own family (Cheka, Falena), dorm members (Ruggie, Jack, Savanaclaw mobs, etc.), or other peers. Even though he desires others’ approval and praise, he also simultaneously believes the compliments are insincere or that he may not be deserving or worthy of it, that he hasn’t “earned” it. It’s also difficult for him to be emotionally vulnerable with others, and I feel that this would extend to romantic circumstances.

Continuing from the previous point, I think it’d be a slow burn. Like, the feelings develop gradually and manifest in small but increasingly more forward-facing ways like his gaze lingering for a second or two longer than usual, him getting slightly irritable when he smells (I 100% believe that smell is a Big Thing for beastmen) some other guy on the object of his affections, or simply… his mind wandering to them, maybe in a daydream.

A lot of it is Leona musing about the situation and then being in denial. He’s not so oblivious as to ignore what are clearly blossoming feelings, but he's not so hasty as to act on them right away. He'd sit with those feelings, examine them, question them. What is it that he is experiencing and why, how did things come to this, etc. He may even try to convince himself it's a phase or he's "too good" for this or he's "above" this. Really takes a long time to wrestle with his emotions and to sort them out. And then when he has come to his conclusion, he might not be very pleased with it because (as I said before), he has self-esteem and self-worth issues despite outwardly presenting himself as confident and in-charge.

For a while, he keeps his distance and observes. He’s nothing if not a big cat biding his time, keeping an eye on his prey until—BAM! Down comes his paw, ensnaring the mouse. It's like a game of chess or... cat and mouse. You have to watch your opponent and predict their moves, then plan your own moves two or three or more steps ahead of them. He'd want to gauge if they're already taken, if they seem to express an interest in him too, what they like and dislike, information like that. The last thing Leona'd want to do is charge in, guns blazing, only to be rejected and have his pride hurt.

He may also go out of his way to test the object of his affections by purposefully engineering scenarios to see how they react. At first, it's subtle things that could easily be passed off as coincidence or happenstance. For example, maybe Leona would accidentally bump his shoulder against yours or as he's walking by his tail flicks you. That's just the start though. He'd put more pressure on over time. Like he'd be more confrontational, putting himself in your path as some obstacle to overcome, still being sort of an asshole to see how you handle yourself around him.

Leona tells himself he has the upper hand, and he's usually pretty consistent about hiding his feelings to that end. It might peek through here and there, but they easily read as him being tsundere as per usual. I think that would be his way of coping, because deep down he doesn't want to admit that a part of him is scared to feel this way. It's something else he could fail at, someone else he could frighten away or destroy.

With time, I think he'd become more confident. He has a better grasp of the other person, he's been able to sort out his thoughts. But the thing is, his pride is still a major deterrent. Instead of coming out and saying it, it would become another game. If you've ever read or watched Kaguya-sama: Love is War, it'd be similar to that. Leona would push for the other person to be the one to fall for him and confess first. Part of it is he's kind of afraid to be so emotionally vulnerable, part of it is that he's desperate to be wanted and needed by others, and part of it is that he feels he needs to "earn" that love by winning you over. He wants that sweet, sweet validation from you. He wants YOU to choose HIM.

I think he expects a certain amount of push and pull. If the game's too easy for him, the (psychological) hunt loses some of its thrill. I think he'd also be the type to seek a partner that isn't just a blind yes man (despite him giving off the vibes that he wants to be in total control, especially in his own dormitory); they should be able to keep him on his toes one way or another, and they shouldn't idolize him in a really unrealistic way--because then he worries what would happen if they learn about his flaws. Would they see him differently? Reject him? Etc.

It'd take a considerable amount of time and effort, but slowly he'd let the walls around his heart down to let you in--but ONLY if you pass his tests and prove that you can be loyal, trustworthy, and cognizant + accepting of all his flaws. He has high standards, so he's pretty picky about who he allows to be by his side. I don't think he'd be happy having to like... put in a fake "perfect prince" act or airs for someone else. Pretending to be someone you're not in order to have love might be just another source of stress for him.

He would take a more aggressive approach if the object of his affections makes it obvious that they return his feelings. More "accidental" touching (but of course nothing that breaches into something they find discomforting), intentionally dropping phrases that come off as flirtatious, demanding to spend more time together, etc.

If they're not into it, he'd respectfully back off. However, that won't stop him from moping about it in private later.

Then, assuming a scenario in which he and the person he's romantically interested in get together/start formally dating:

I think he'd be a lot more blatant and shameless about "showing off" his affections and/or the relationship in general. Overt flirting at this point, casually laying his head on the shoulder or wrapping an arm or tail around you, etc. Who cares who sees? Let them know you're already taken.

Oh yeah, he's really into physical touch (within whatever limits you deem to be acceptable; he respects your autonomy). Cuddles while napping, hand holding, head pats, listening to your heartbeat, etc. It grants him a sense of security that you're like... physically there with him.

I think words of affirmation are also up there, however I don't think he would appreciate it if it's like... overdone. Too many compliments might start to feel disingenuous or even smothering after a while (what comes to my mind specifically is how he reacts negatively or with denial to his brother, Cheka, Kifaji, and even his own dorm members praising him).

As I mentioned earlier, I think there'd be a lot of banter and teasing; Leona strikes me as someone who likes to toy with his pre or puts up a fight; he still has his pride and won't take sass lying down, he'd definitely retaliate but in a playful way.

Slightly whiny and needy. Key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to go full yandere on you. I believe that Leona would be somewhat insecure about the relationship and wants you to validate him with your presence. Like, if you're lying down somewhere and try to get up to leave... he might pout and be all dramatic about it, maybe throw in a sarcastic line about how he's "a delicate prince" and how he'll "wither like a flower" without you.

Slightly possessive. Again, the key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to restrict your movements or demand complete control of your life. However, he might sulk if he like... sees some other guy hovering or getting handsy, obviously making you uncomfortable. (If it's a particularly bad day for him, Leona might get intrusive thoughts about being the "second pick" and his partner leaving him for some "better" guy.) We've already seen he can get pretty territorial when it comes to Savanaclaw and the Botanical Garden, so I think at some point he'd also step in to intimidate people he feels are becoming a problem for his S/O. It's not the case for every situation though; his partner should be able to handle themselves or let him know when he's overstepping.

I think he'd be a little more tolerant of things his partner pulls. They're the one exception for certain things, like touching his ears or being more willing to listen to their requests to go to class or to try this new vegetable.

He'd try to distance his S/O from his family, especially in the beginning. Leona would tell them he doesn't think they're ready to meet the royal family yet (especially knowing the rocky relationship he has with his family), but really a lot of this stems from his pride. Falena, for example, honestly might make him look uncool by infantilizing his "baby bro".

Leona doesn't really go out of his way to plan grand gestures (he's not Kalim). If he does anything "big", it's probably like sending Ruggie to your doorstep with fancy flowers and a notecard or something. What he values isn't the "frivolous" stuff, but spending quality time together (even if it's doing nothing in particular). Might still spoil you on, say, special occasions, but he generally dislikes making a big deal of these things.

I think he'd be into you wearing his clothes. It's an easy visual indication that you're intimate enough to do this, but also it cloaks you in his smell so every other beastman in the immediate vicinity also knows you're "marked". Leona tosses his unworn blazer over you, casually saying, "Keep it."

Speaking of!! I think he’d also really like the idea of marking (bites, scratch marks, etc.) or scenting his partner. Just animalistic stuff like that, y’know. I’m sure he could hold himself back if they’re not comfortable with these aspects.

I do believe he has the capacity to be very sappy, but I don't think he'd want to be at this level all of the time. It would probably be limited to private settings and done sparingly, sort of like a treat?? Cuz if he does it too often, then it might lose its "special" feeling, and I also feel like he wouldn't be open to being all squimshy 24/7. Usually his sappiness is sarcastic.

Going to keep it 100 here, he's going to be more vulnerable around you (especially in private), and that means potential traumadumping. That's not to say that he'd do it super frequently to go into full-blown details, but his S/O would be one of the few people he feels comfortable enough with to open about his deepest insecurities and fears. He sometimes needs someone to hear him out, a shoulder to cry on, etc. Of course, he's not going to treat his partner like an unpaid therapist. Leona just... needs some extra support every now and again, reminders that he's doing fine, you know??

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Leona being in love would NOT smooth out all the rough edges to his personality. He's not going to white knight/act like you constantly need his protection, he's not going to bend over backwards and do anything and everything his partner asks of him. He still has a will and he can and will disagree or argue if he's opposed to something. He'll still let you handle yourself as needed.

Leona being in love would also NOT magically cure him of his personal issues and struggles. This is also true of the other characters who have deeply rooted trauma, but I feel this point should be included as a reminder anyway. It's of course not his entire personality, but his past experiences will impact how he interprets and reacts to things in present day (hence him being needy/wanting validation, etc.).

Like all relationships (whether romantic or platonic), it would not be flawless. There will be highs and lows, fights and disagreements, etc. This is normal in any relationship; what matters is that you're able to be mature enough to patch things up afterwards and learn from those rough patches.

[leeloooonfire]

first kiss

There are many rumours about Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson. Steve only gets his weed from the freak because he gives good discount and sloppy heads. (That rumour is on the jocks of Hawkins High. yes, Steve gets his weed from Eddie, no he doesn't get sloppy heads from Eddie though he thinks the metal head would probably be good at it.)

They've once raced against each other and Eddie won. Beamer against shabby, rusty Van. It's said that Eddie pushed Steve off the road and then left him in a ditch. (The truth is that Steve crashed the beamer one night in '85 after weeks of nightmares and the need to drive through Hawkins to make sure that no demodog would attack his kids. Eddie merely helped him and the beamer out of the ditch.)

They've been friends looooong before the Upside Down. (This is from the kids, specifically from Dustin. And it is anything but true.)

Steve and Eddie made out once in 1981. With their hands down their pants, tongue far up in each others mouths. (This is from a cheerleader who graduated in '82).

This is...well...true. To a point! No hands in pants, but yeah, Steve and Eddie onces kissed. To be specific, it was Steve's first kiss, for both of them really.

Winter '81 at Michael Carvers birthday party where Steve was invited as the youngest basketball player in the team and Eddie was there to sell weed.

Somehow, Steve got pulled into a round of 7 minutes in Heaven by said cheerleader (which had been a trick, a little prank on little Stevie because there had been no 7 minutes in heaven, just some giggling cheerleaders and a perplexed Eddie Munson selling weed out off Carvers pantry).

The moment Steve was shoved into the tiny, dark space with no one but the freak, he had 2 options: run and be the joke of the school or stay and become an enigma in his first year of Highschool.

So, Steve stayed.

'Pre-rolled or a baggy?' Eddie, sitting on a chair, had asked with a drawl which would have been intimidating if his voice hadn't broken right then.

'7 minutes in hell' Steve simply said, ignoring both the lunchbox on Eddie's knees and the funny crack of his voice.

the other boy leaned back, head tilted like a confused puppy, 'Isn't it 7 minutes in Heaven?'

Steve shrugged his shoulders, 'probably depends on who's with you, you know?'

And that made Eddie laugh, head bend, eyes squeezed shut, a nice, rumbling sort of sound escaping his lips.

'Good point', he'd said and closed the lunchbox before leaning closer, 'What'cha intend to do about it?'

Until this very moment, Steve didn't know, hadn't had a clue, but when the laughter of the cheerleaders from the other side of the door reached his ears, he shrugged again and said, 'probably kiss you until the 7 minutes are over and then buy a pre-rolled.'

'You don't mind that they might called you a fag?'

For a moment, Steve thought about it, but then shrugged again. He wasn't one, liked girls just fine and if anything, he thinks Lucy from geography definitely would like to hold his hands.

'Nah, I don't mind.'

And before the other boy could say anything, Steve marched closer and bend down, one hand on Eddie's knee, the other on his smooth cheek.

'But I'm not gonna kiss you if you don't want it,' he said right against Eddie's lips. Eddie, who looked startled and wide-eyed, lips slightly parted. Steve knew that he sounded far more confident than he actually felt, and he was just so very grateful that his hands weren't as sweaty with nervousness as the lower part of his back. He just hoped that he smelled nice.

'5 more minutes,' someone called out and Eddie jerked against Steve’s hands.

'OK,' he said quietly, sounding so small and Steve felt for him, so he said, honest and with a bit vulnerability, 'it's my first kiss.'

Before Eddie could say anything, however, Steve kissed him. Just a light pressure of lips against lips. He stopped, leaned back to look at Eddie only to find him with his eyes closed, so Steve leaned in again. One peck, two, a third, and then Eddie's hand closed around Steve's waist to move him closer, right between his parted legs. Another hand reached for Steve's head, slightly cold fingers curled into his hair and Eddie's thumb began to brush almost gently over Steve's ear. It felt electrifying. He hummed. This time, when their lips met, they opened and Steve carefully let his tongue run along Eddie's lower lip. He's met with a heavy exhale and something like a quiet whine. It's sounded like heaven, so he did it again only to feel Eddie's tongue against his. Wet, Steve thought at first, a bit slimey, but then Eddie grabbed his head harder and opened his mouth wider and with it, Eddie's tongue brushed against his, and it felt like nothing Steve's ever felt before. Warm and fuzzy and lovely, and Eddie tasted like mint gums and spit. He groaned. Steve reached for Eddie's hair, short and curly and so soft against his hand and somehow he's not standing anymore but sitting on Eddie's lap, their chests touching. When Steve's teeth accidently dug into Eddie's wonderfully plush bottom lip, he moaned into Steve's mouth. It was as if the sound echoed through Steve's bones. So he did it again. And again, nails digging into Eddie's neck to keep him close. The hand on Steve's waist trailed along his waistband and then under Steve's shirt to tickle his stomach and before thinking too much, he pressed into it.

Eddie tilted his head and brushed his tongue against Steve's and then against his teeth and lips and before he knew what was happening, Eddie's beautiful, unskilled mouth, left his lips and trailed along his jaw to his ear, gently biting into the flesh behind it. And Steve outright moaned loud enough for the sound to travel outside of the pantry.

'30 more seconds' came a snickering answer and the two boys jumped apart. Eddie's cheeks and neck were flushed bright red, his lips shiny with spit, his hair a mess and Steve knew he probably looked just the same. They both panted, Steve's heart running a mile a minute.

'Oh,' he said, still feeling Eddie's touch against his skin (and wanting more.)

He wanted more!

Both of them tried to put their clothes and hair in order, breathing heavily and just as Steve put his hand on the doorknob to leave the tiny room, Eddie said, 'You were my first kiss, too.'

5 years later, after battles and almost dying, Steve lies on Eddie's new (thankfully clean) mattress and says with a small smile, 'best first kiss ever,' only for Eddie to smirk and say, 'We could repeat it, you know?'

They've been best friends for the last few months, similar but so much different from how Steve and Robin are best friends, but when Steve looks at Eddie and his pink lips and the way his cheeks are hot and his eyes twinkle with something more, he knows that they could be so much more...

[traveler-at-heart]

You're ok

Summary: As you recover from a life threatening mission, Natasha struggles to be vulnerable.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Edit: The last part is a scene from The Diplomat's season 2. Highly recommend the show, as it also has our lovely Ali Ahn ( AKA Alice Wu)

Death is part of the job. You had always been prepared for it.

Failure and a slow recovery were things that you were less inclined to accept.

It was hard to deal with the fact you had been ambushed, and almost killed by a bomb in what was supposed to be an easy mission.

Two weeks after being confined to the sterile hospital walls you’re back at the Compound. Bucky offered to help, carrying your things and lending his arm as support.

You certainly didn’t expect the rest of the Avengers on the foyer, excited to greet you.

“Don’t make a fuss” you say, letting them hug you. Wanda rolls her eyes, taking your bag.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive. We’re gonna make a fuss”

“Just for today, let us make a big deal out of this” Steve says.

You had seen all of your teammates when they visited at the hospital, with one notable exception.

Said exception walks through the door, the hint of a smile on her beautiful face as your eyes meet green ones.

“Welcome back” Natasha says, her tone gentle.

“Thank you”

“Romanoff might like you, she almost smiled” Tony says, but you don’t pay him attention.

“That’s just because I thought you weren’t here” Natasha walks past him, squeezing your good arm as a silent goodbye. How you wish you could follow after her, ask why she didn’t even stop by once, but she’s hurrying out the room in record time, as if she can sense your intentions.

Truthfully, you won’t act on them. Natasha doesn’t owe you anything, not even a get well card.

“Let’s get you settled in your new room” Tony becons, and you frown.

“New room? What happened to the old one?”

“This one has some improvements. You’re gonna love it”

It’s evident he still feels guilty over what happened, though it was definitely not his fault that you almost got killed.

The new room has a mini fridge, a giant tv, a king size bed, and a small couch. It also has a huge bathtub, as well as an incredible view of the forest behind the Compound.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… I’m perfectly fine going back to my old room”

“Can I have it if she doesn’t want it?” Sam intervenes, looking around the space.

“Come on, you’re gonna be using crutches for a while. You need a bigger space. And entertainment”

“It’s true” Steve says. “Of course we all want to be optimistic but…”

The doctors had said it would take at least six weeks to get you walking without aid. And then, you’d have to train and get back in shape. You are looking at two or three months of recovery.

It’s not that you dislike the bigger space or amenities. It’s the fact that Natasha was closer to you in the other room, and so you’d meet her most mornings as you’d step out to hit the gym or make breakfast.

Now, not only is she emotionally distant, she’s also physically away. And you don’t know which is worse.

“I’ll give it a try” you promise, though you know nothing will be better than your old room.

—

There are unexpected challenges that come with your injuries. Like cooking breakfast. Wanda is more than happy to help most days, but she’s been out for a mission the past week. You could have stuck to cereal, except Steve is always around by the time you wake up, and he insists on making your breakfast.

It’s a nice gesture, though the food is horrible.

You’ve spent the better part of your morning  playing with your eggs, considering eating cereal again, when someone places a cup of coffee and a paper bag next to you.

“I don’t know who told Steve he could cook” Natasha says with a smile.

“He means well” you answer, and wait for her to nod towards the bag to inspect its contents. Grilled cheese and a scone. Your mouth waters at the smell.

“You’re amazing, Natasha, honestly” you say between bites, moaning at the taste. “I can’t remember the last time I ate something this good. Except Wanda’s food, of course”

“Enjoy” she says, taking away the plate with eggs for you.

You were hoping to have her company while you eat, but maybe that’s too much to hope for.

—

At last, there’s something you can do. While everyone is busy with missions, you focus on reports and intelligence, which is perfect, because all you have to do is sit and read.

There are still deadlines and though no one wants to put pressure on you, you make sure nothing is delayed. As you keep reading in one of the conference rooms, the door is pushed open and you look up, alarmed at the sudden intrusion.

“Yes?” you say, pushing your glasses up, staring at Natasha. She turns around, struggling to speak.

“Y-you should be resting”

“I’m doing Bucky’s reports. You know how he is, he can’t type anything in the computer”

“It’s close to midnight. Have you even had dinner yet? I’m sure he won’t mind if you do them later”

“Nat. It’s fine, honestly” you say, smiling at her awkwardness. “I like to feel useful”

She nods, looking around the room, as if weighting her options. Moving away from the door, she walks and sits next to you, checking out some of the paperwork you’re reviewing

“Someone should have really taught James how to type” she mutters when she gets to the part where Bucky wrote target pulled out a cock instead of Glock.

You snort out a laugh, because it’s the dumbest fucking thing in the world.

“Ten bucks if you leave it like that” she insists and you shake your head.

“I considered it but then Tony wouldn’t know when to stop the teasing”

“Fair” she tilts her head, still smiling at you.

It’s obvious now that Natasha’s staying to make sure you go back to rest soon. So you enjoy the silence that comes with her presence, thinking this might be a step in the right direction.

But then, you stretch your arms above your head, forgetting about the stitches in your side until you feel a pull.

“Fuck” you bend over in pain, and Natasha is by your side in an instant. “It’s ok. I just stretched too hard. Forgot I still have a hole on my side”

Natasha’s hands hold on to the edge of the table, as if she’s struggling between storming out and staying.

“You should get some rest now” she manages to say, eyes not meeting your own.

“I’m fine”

Natasha gets ready to argue, but then reconsiders and just nods.

“I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight”

The redhead leaves the room in a hurry, and you wonder what could have possibly made her so upset.

For the next few days, you don’t see Natasha at all, and a part of you is certain she’s avoiding you.

As you lay in bed, watching a movie with Wanda, you keep going back to your interaction. Did you say something offensive? Was she simply too repulsed by weakness and didn’t know how to deal with it?

Is she avoiding me? Am I overthinking?

“She is and you are” Wanda says, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“But why… now wait a minute” you click your tongue, looking at your friend.

“I didn’t mean to, your thoughts are so loud. And so are Natasha’s. When you came back she was having a screaming match inside her head”

“What do you mean? What was she thinking?”

“No, that’s where I draw the line. If you want to know, ask her”

“If I ever see her again, sure” you mutter, though you know you lack the confidence to confront Natasha. Even if you had the chance, what’s there to say? "Hey, why are you making sure we only see each other when strictly necessary?"

She doesn’t like you, that’s the only explanation. Natasha is just being polite to keep appearances and the screaming inside her head was probably her thinking how much she wished you were still at the hospital.

Wanda snorts next to you, making you glare.

“Outta my head”

“Hey, I’m trying to watch the movie. You’re the one that needs to keep it quiet up there”

A few days later and you still have no idea how to approach Natasha. Mind you, she’s only been around the kitchen to get coffee once or twice, spending the rest of her time in missions or at the gym across the Compound.

The only time you’re not thinking about her is when the physical pain is distracting you. Like now, while changing your bandages. The doctors told you to get someone to help, but you already get help with food, laundry, even changing your god damn sheets. You’ll be damned if you ask for help with this.

“Fuckfuckfuck” you clearly did something wrong because the dressing is stuck around the edges. You pull again, but the pain is too much, so you plop down in bed. There’s a knock at the door, and you groan, which will hopefully make whoever’s on the other side go away.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Natasha says, rushing to your side.

“Can’t change my bandages” you say, not caring if your incompetence upsets her.

“Can I look?”

You nod, sitting up so she can see for herself the mess you’re in. Her hands are surprisingly soft and tender, and you’re almost dozing off while Natasha works silently.

Except when there’s a tug and you jump back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’ll be just one painful pull, ok?” the woman says, one of her hands going to your cheek. Your eyes meet and the way she’s looking at you almost makes the pain go away.

“Ok” you nod. Natasha takes it off in a swift movement, and all you can do is take a sharp breath as your skin stings. “Fuck me” you say through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you’d enjoy it that much with the state you’re in” she jokes, which makes you smile.

“You know what I mean”

“Just teasing”

“You’re certainly good”

Natasha keeps working in silence, and you worry you may have crossed a line. When she’s done, she picks up the trash and goes to throw it away.

“Ask for help next time”

“I need help for everything. I wanted to at least do something on my own without being a burden”

“You’re not a burden” she says, her back to you as she washes her hands on the sink.

Something comes over you, and when Natasha walks by your side to exit the room, your hand shoots up to hold her wrist.

“Y/N?”

“I… I missed you. I know we’re colleagues and all I do is share whatever meal I’m having, or train with you from time to time. I know I can’t really do any of those things right now. I’m inconsequential, I know, to your life and to whatever you do. But I do miss you, Natasha. And I wish I didn’t care so much”

It feels like her skin is burning under your fingers, so you let go, ashamed at your little outburst. You’re expecting her to leave without another word but instead, she kneels to meet your eyes.

“You’re the opposite of inconsequential. But I don’t know how to care without being vulnerable”

“I don’t think that’s possible. Caring is vulnerability” you say softly. “But it’s also a strenght. It means you’re not alone”

Natasha smiles, a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. She’s about to say something else when FRIDAY calls for her at the conference room.

At this hour, it only means one thing. She stands up, looking apologetic.

“Be careful” is all you can say as she leaves the room.

—

A party is the last thing you’re in the mood for. Not only are you still wearing a cane (an improvement from the crutches) but Natasha has been gone for several days to complete a mission only a handful of people know about.

It makes you anxious, to think she might be in danger, though she is the most capable agent in the entire world.

“So glad you made it” Tony says when you finally show up. It took some convincing on Wanda’s part, but you agreed once you found an outfit that didn’t require you to wear heels.

The Avengers are at their own couch, talking and laughing. Bucky has apointed himself as your personal waiter, bringing snacks and drinks.

“Any word on Nat?” Stark asks, which distracts you from the conversation with Sam.

“Said she was still stuck at the debriefing” Steve shrugs his shoulders. It’s no surprise, if she can avoid these parties, Natasha will.

At least she’s home and safe. That brings you some peace of mind, and you’re able to enjoy the rest of the party.

Tony announces the fireworks are about to start, and you relunctantly stand next to the huge crowd assembled at the front yard of the Compound.

The first burts of color is followed by a couple of cheers.

But it’s different for you.

The booming sound, the lights, it all sets you on edge.

You’ve been around explosions before, and this had never happened. Frozen in place, you try to close your eyes and control your breathing as the noises increase your anxiety.

How you wish you could run back to your room right now, but it’s nearly impossible to walk between everyone.

“It’s ok” a voice says, and there’s the warmth of another body next to yours. “You’re ok”

“Nat” you sigh with relief, closing your eyes. Another firework explodes and you jump.

“Look at me” she says, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing motion. You nod, turning your body so she can wrap both arms around your waist. “Breathe with me”

You follow her lead, in and out, until your heartbeat is steady again.

“You’re ok” she says, this time more of a reminder to herself. “And I’m here”

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, letting her decide if she wants to take that final step. Natasha smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as her lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

“I missed you too” she says when you break apart.

“I’m not going anywhere”

[feinyan]

DATING HEADCANONS featuring. satoru gojo, itadori yuji, megumi fushiguro and toge inumaki.

some random small dating headcanons involving the jujutsu kaisen boys. no tags, just fluff. enjoy.

gojo, who would sacrifice the world and everyone in it for you. who knows the dangers of letting himself be so vulnerable with someone, but can't help but want to offer everything to you. he would do anything for your smile, for the moments you give him which he treasures so closely to his heart. gojo, who cannot keep his hands off of you. who, to be frank, does not understand the concept of personal space. whos constantly finding an excuse to slide his arm around your shoulder, your waist, or to hold your hand. gojo, who spoils you!!! so so so much. who sees something thats hellishly expensive that you'd even slightly like and doesn't think twice before buying it. who brings you bags of goodies or expensive designer stuff he thinks you'd look just right in when returning from overseas missions. gojo, who to no surprise, loves to tease to get reactions out of you. who doesn't know how to quit it. he's just so fond of your flustered face, or the way you stare at him with pouty eyes after he says something that makes your heart race. gojo, who loves to switch up the nicknames he uses on you. who calls you princess when you're pouty, or calls you ma'am when you're upset. who in a whiny, dragged out tone says "babyyyyy," when you say no to something stupid he suggests.

itadori, who is the most respectful, sweetest boy ever. it doesn't come as a surprise, but hes soooo polite with everything he does. he holds doors open for you, walks on the close-to-road part of the sidewalk when you walk together, holds your bags for you, or buttons up your jackets. small, yes, but meaningful things. itadori, who loves to take pictures of you!!! who is constantly changing his lockscreen to different photos of you, because ohhh, you're so cute and you look good in everything! he can't decide what to stick with. itadori, who is sooooo gentle with you. who knows he could hurt you on accident, and dies a little at the thought of that. he treats you with so much care, his touch is so gentle regardless of if its in the way he holds you or kisses you. or does anything really. itadori, who gives you his first for everything. who wants to be yours for his lifetime, and experience everything he possibly can with you. despite knowing the dangers he could be to you, and knowing that wanting you forever is selfish, but he can't help himself when you mean just about everything to him. itadori, who cannot hide things for the life of him. who buys you a cute gift for an upcoming special occasion, and immediately blurts it out that he got you it the moment he sees you. or who gets told something thats a secret by someone else, and says "okay, don't tell them i told you, 'kay? but,"

megumi, who tries soooo hard to impress you. who puts more effort into his training, or offers to do something he usually wouldn't when you're around. he's not even sure if he notices the change himself, but his classmates like yuji and nobara sure do! megumi, who is constantly glued to your side. unintentionally following you around, or offering to hold your things or walk you places just so he has the opportunity to be with you just a little longer. megumi, who not so secretly adores the attention you give him. who grumbles about your touch, or constant hand holding, but if you're not clinging onto him he'll complain, "it's cold today. my hands are freezing," even in the scorching hot. who pretends to not listen to your babbling in his ears, but proves you wrong by bringing up something you'd mentioned you like even briefly in a conversation weeks later. megumi, who lends you his clothing and can't help but stare. if it's cold, he'll slide his jacket over your shoulders and a scarf around your neck. sure, maybe he's freezing his ass off, but he can handle it if it means seeing you happy. megumi, who doesn't understand why you want him. but he understands fully why he wants you. who pictures you as someone made for him, who can't get every little interaction you two share out of his head. who denied his feelings for so long yet came to accept them. he knows he wants to be someone you're able to rely on, or can turn to when you want to feel safe. he would give you everything and try his hardest for you, even if he'd never admit it.

inumaki, who sends you little screenshots from his games that remind you of him. who see's a cute, whimsical little creature in a game and thinks 'cute. i should show this to s/o' inumaki, who has his phone on him constantly so he can text you. who is constantly sending you messages, or finding excuses to talk to you, and is surprisingly good at communication for someone that's unable to properly speak. inumaki, who makes up for your lack of verbal communication with displays of affection. who simply enjoys your presence more than anything. who stands closest to you no matter what you're doing, holds your hands all the time or follows you around. inumaki, who despite not being able to speak in anything other than ingredients, is a d1 yapper. looooves to text you silly shit, and yeah .. he plays a lot of online games, so sometimes he'll accidentally treat you like a homie instead of a s/o. whoopsie!! but its never serious. who drags you into his pranks, but always has to deal with the consequences himself :( inumaki, who wants to share his hobbies and interests with you. watching mukbang together, inviting you to play games even if you have no idea what you're doing. he loves to tease if you're not very good, or 'accidentally' make you lose if you're winning against him. accidental "drop the controller" slips from his lips, but hey, maybe if he's feeling nice he'll offer a win out of pity.

@ feinyan

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Tw: parent abandoning their child, fluff, angst

Series masterlist

The afternoon sun filtered through the living room window and cast a swath of gold over Noah's house. You were sitting crossed-legged on the couch, watching Luna play silently, her small hands precisely set her favorite toys in a small, neat row, where Mr. Flop, her favorite bunny, had proudly taken the central point, guiding whatever game was in her head.

You smiled at her concentration, something warm blooming in your chest.

She was a perfect blend of Noah's features, a mirror image of him in her own way. She had his warm, deep brown eyes with his same subtle almond shape, dark hair, with a way chubbier face.

Noah leaned against the counter in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Some brown locks fell over his eyes as they darted between you and his daughter in quiet contemplation and hesitation.

You could tell something was on his mind. It had been incredible between you and Noah in the past few months, but there was one part of his life he'd held carefully at arm's length: Luna.

That wasn't because he didn't trust you, you knew that. It was deeper than that, more complicated. He was protective of her in a way hard to explain unless you knew the full story, which he had only recently begun sharing with you.

It had been late one night, just the two of you curled up on his couch after Luna had gone to bed, when Noah first opened up about the relationship with his ex. In the beginning, it had been passionate-whirlwind-type love, felt like the kind that could move mountains.

But once Luna was born, everything shifted. She was never ready for the reality of being a mother, and slowly but surely, it dawned on him that with each passing day, she actually resented it. Noah tried to understand her, tried to support her in whatever way he could, but nothing seemed to help. The more he tried, the more she pulled away.

One night, Noah had come home to an empty house. No note, no explanation, just Luna, not even a year old yet, lying in her crib, and complete silence in every room. His ex was gone, had walked out on both of them, and though Noah tried to reach out, tried to get her to come back, she never did.

From that moment on, he'd vowed to protect Luna from anything or anyone that might hurt her. Or perhaps that was his way to protect himself, too.

You both were up late, the only sound in his living room coming from a small lamp in the corner of the room, its dim light.

Noah was sitting next to you on the couch, his back hunched and his elbows to his knees as he stared into the floor for thought collection. You knew he had been carrying something heavy in his head for quite some time.

"I never thought that I'd ever be a single parent," he said gruffly, as though the words hurt him to utter. "But then again, after what happened …I don't really see my life in any other way anymore. She is everything to me."

He stopped, rubbing a hand over his face, and in those eyes you could almost see his tiredness, not physical, but an emotional toll, when one carries so much on his shoulders alone. You said nothing, just let him work through the words at his own pace. You could feel his vulnerability hang between you like some fragile thing he was just willing to show you.

"I didn't have time to process what happened," Noah whispered. "One day I'm in this relationship and we're trying to make it work for Luna, and the next… she's gone. Just like that. I came home and she'd left. No explanation. No good-bye."

Your heart ached with the pain in his tone, even now raw with emotion.

“I didn’t know what the hell I was doing,”, he admitted, shaking his head. Just like that, it was him and Luna against the world.

"I was fucking terrified" he said, the corner of his lip curling up in a self-deprecating smile. "I had to figure out how to be a dad by myself, how to balance that with the band, how to be there for her when I was barely holding it together myself."

He glanced up at you then, his eyes warm with appreciation and a little fear. "She's the reason I'm so careful, you know? With relationships, with people in general. I don't ever want to bring someone into her life unless I am really sure."

He paused, his throat swallowing hard as his eyes drop once again to the floor. You could tell there was more he wanted to say, but it was hard for him to speak.

"I'm scared that…," he started, then had to force himself to continue, his voice faltering. "I'm scared that you're mad at me. Or disappointed, maybe. That I'm taking things too slow with you. That I haven't fully… let you in yet. It's not because I don't care about you, because I do. A lot. It's just—"

"Noah," you said softly, leaning in closer to him. "I'm not mad. I'm not disappointed. I get it, why you want to be careful. It's okay."

His eyes finally met yours, surprise flickering in them. He had been so consumed by his fear of messing things up that it hadn't occurred to him you might actually understand where he was coming from.

"You've been through much," you went on, your voice soft but clear. "And I get why you'd want to protect Luna. I'd be more concerned if you were being anything less than careful, honestly. It says how much you love her, and how much you want to do right by her. And I respect that, Noah. I'm not going anywhere."

He blinked, like he was trying to absorb what you were saying, his shoulders loosening as your words soaked in. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. His hand closed around yours, clasping at it like he was holding onto something solid for the first time in a long while.

"I can wait," you said with an even voice. "You need more time, I'm waiting. I do care for you, for both of you. And I don't want to make anything if you are not ready yet. What matters to me is that we're moving forward, even if it's slow."

Noah's breath slightly caught, emotion swelling up in his eyes as he continued to carry that weight for such a long time, terrified that by taking things slow, he was pushing you away, when all you wanted was to meet him where he was.

"I don't know how to do that," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've been so scared of screwing this up, of screwing us up. But you… you've just been there."

You smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "You've been hurt, Noah. And it takes time to heal from that. I'm not here to hurry you or push you into something that you're not ready for. I am here because I care about you. And I care about Luna. I want you only to know that I'm in this for the long haul whenever you're ready."

He breathed shakily, his forehead leaning forward to rest against yours while his hand remained tightly wrapped around yours. You could feel the tension start to seep from him, replaced by a silent sort of relief that he didn't have to bear the burden of his fears alone anymore.

"Thank you." he whispered, his voice full of gratitude. "For understanding. For being… you."

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, silently communicating that he had nothing to thank you for, that this was where you wished to be.

You saw Noah in all his completeness: a good father, a man who had been wounded but kept trying, learning how to trust once more. You were more than ready to wait for him to fully open up that part of his heart.

You sat in that silence, the weight of the past there still, yet lighter now. You knew Noah still had a really long way to go before letting go of all the pain he had been carrying with him, but you knew he was on his way. You would be here every step of the way, to build something real, something lasting, with him and with Luna.

Now, months after you and Noah had started dating, you were sitting in the middle of that guarded space he had created around her.

Now you knew why he was being so careful, why he had not pushed for more interaction between you and Luna.

She meant the world to him, and after all she had been through, he would never risk anything that could disrupt her life. But still, you waited. You had cared for Noah, and by that extension already cared for Luna, too. So you gave him the time he needed to let you in.

Today, though, there was something different in the air, something to let you know Noah was about to take a step forward.

"Hey," Noah finally said, breaking the comfortable silence that had overcome the room. He set his coffee cup down and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous quirk you'd come to know well. "Can I ask you a favor?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What's up?"

He turned to Luna, still deep in her toys, and back to you again. He paused a beat, you basically saw the cogs turning as he picked his words with all care.

"The band's got a thing later today, just some planning stuff for the new album. I was supposed to go meet the guys, but…" He trailed off, gesturing toward Luna with a helpless look. "Usually, I ask one of them, but they are all busy today."

You chuckled softly at that, imagining Luna in the hands of Noah’s bandmates. As much as they loved her, you knew they weren’t exactly all equipped for child care even if you were sure they all deeply cared about her.

"So… you want me to stay with her?"

Noah nodded, his expression softening as he met your gaze. "Yeah. If you're okay with it. I mean, I know it's last minute and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but—"

"Noah," you interrupted softly, standing up and walking over to him. You reached out, resting your hand on his arm. "It's okay. I'd love to stay with her."

He exhaled, the relief washing over his features, but there was still that damned hesitation in his eyes. You knew how big of a deal this was for him, trusting someone with Luna, especially after everything he'd been through.

"Are you sure?" he asked more quietly now. "I mean, she's really shy, with most people and with you too, and I don't want any of you to feel uncomfortable."

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss against his cheek. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. She just needs time, that's all. And I think she got her shyness from her dad."

Noah closed his eyes for a second, his head slightly leaned into your touch before pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. When he pulled back, his eyes were different, warm and a deep well of silent appreciation.

"Thank you," he whispered. "This… this means so much."

Now, you were sitting on the floor, after Noah had gone off to his band meeting. At first, Luna had been quiet, keeping to herself to play with her toys, but bit by bit, she'd started to warm up toward you, like you'd wanted.

You leaned forward for Mr. Flop, the stuffed bunny, and held him out to her with a playing grin. "You think Mr. Flop needs some tea?"

Luna's eyes sparkled, a shy smile overspreading her face as she nodded vigorously. "Yes! He is very thirsty."

You laughed softly, watching her scurry over to her tiny plastic tea set. She first poured an imaginary cup of tea for Mr. Flop and then one for you. As she handed you the pretend tea, your heart swelled with affection for this little girl who was letting you into her world slowly, piece by piece.

"Thanks, Luna," he said, making a big show of taking a sip. "This is the best tea I've ever had."

She giggled, her cheeks blushing with pride. For several moments, the two of you played in comfortable silence, with her showing you through the rules of the tea party.

"You think Mr. Flop would like to go on an adventure?" you asked after some time, breaking the silence as Luna finished pouring more imaginary tea.

With eyes aglow with excitement, she said, "Yes! He loves adventures!"

"Okay, where shall we go?" you asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

Luna tapped her chin, and then a huge grin spread over her face. "The jungle! I love jungle! Dad loves jungle too! We have to find the lost treasure!"

You gasped melodramatically. "The jungle? Wait. Noah made you listen...nevermind. That does sound dangerous! You think we can make it?"

She laughed again, her head bobbing up and down quickly. "We can do it! Mr. Flop is very brave."

And then you both launched into your make-believe jungle adventure. The shyness had left Luna by now, replaced by a bubbly, fearless energy that took your heart soaring.

The front door creaked open a couple of hours later when Noah returned home, but you didn't notice him first, too caught up in the game with Luna sitting next to you on the floor.

Noah stood in the doorway, watching the both of you, and his heart swelled in his chest. He had always known you were special, knew from the moment he met you that there was something different about you, but seeing you now, playing with Luna, made him feel something he hadn't felt in years.

Love, not just for you, but for the idea of you becoming a part of him and Luna's lives in a deeper way.

When you finally saw him standing there, you smiled. "Hey, you're back!" you said. Noah nodded, stepping closer, his eyes soft. "Yeah, I'm back."

Luna ran to him and wrapped her arms around his legs as he scooped her up, holding her close to his chest for a moment before turning back to you. "You two seemed to have fun."

Noah had Luna in his arms, babbly excitedly about some "jungle adventure" and lost treasure. He listened intently, though his eyes never left you. There was something there in his gaze, something so raw and deep, that made your heart go racing. It wasn't the usual softness, the usual affection, it was heavier, like something nestled between you when nothing was said.

"We did," you said, smiling at Luna as she continued her excited recount of the day. "We found the lost treasure, and Mr. Flop was the hero of the day."

Luna giggled, snuggling into Noah's chest as she added her own details. "We were very brave, Daddy! Mr. Flop was so good at being quiet, and we didn't get eaten!"

Noah chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair as he kissed her forehead. "Sounds like you had quite the adventure."

"Yes! We had a lot of fun. And your friend is amazing. I want to play with her again. I think she is my friend too now."

Noah smiled, his brown eyes full of affection for the both of you. "I'm glad you made a new friend. We'll ask her again, okay?"

Luna nodded, her eyelids drooping as the excitement of the day finally started to catch up with her and she rested her head against the soft fabric of his dad's hoodie. Noah glanced at you over her head, a soft smile tugging at his lips once again.

"Would you like to help me get her ready for bed?" he whispered, and with Luna nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder, half-asleep.

You nodded, and your heart fluttered with the thought. This felt like some sort of minor but meaningful step in being included in the nighttime routine, part of something as personal and intimate as this.

All three went into Luna's room together. It was not a big room, but it was cozy with soft toys, bookshelves, and a little carpet that glittered from strings of tiny fairy lights.

Noah was soon to gently lay Luna down into her bed, and you sat down beside him, watching as he tucked her in, his hands moving with the sort of practiced ease that came from more than two years of being a single parent. You leaned over, setting Mr. Flop down beside Luna, who smiled sleepily as she cuddled the bunny close.

Noah leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss against her forehead with tenderness that would ache your chest. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

"Goodnight, daddy," she muttered the tone in her voice drowsy. Then her tiny eyes flickered open just enough to glance at you. "Goodnight Y/N."

You smiled warmly, your heart swelling in the simplest of words. "Goodnight, Luna."

After several minutes of quiet whispers and soothing reassurances, she fell asleep, her breathing evening into the quiet rhythm of her sleep. Noah leaned forward and pressed another soft kiss to her forehead before he eased himself up, motioning you to follow him from the room.

As the door is shut quietly behind you, he let out a very, very long breath, running his hand through his hair, leaning against the wall.

"Thanks," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "For sticking with her. For being so… incredible with her."

You shrugged. "She's a pretty amazing kid. It wasn't hard."

Noah turned fully toward you now, his eyes searching yours with a sort of intensity that hitched your breath. His hand rose and delicately swept a strand of hair back behind your ear, where it lingered on the side of your face. His thumb tracing the line of your jaw sent you leaning into his touch, your heart beating with each passed second a little faster.

"I never knew whether I would find anybody that could fit in this part of my life," he whispered, his voice not a decibel over a whisper. "With Luna, after what happened… I felt I needed to keep her world small, you know? Keep it safe. I didn't want to bring someone in that might hurt her."

His eyes welled with that same vulnerability you had seen before, and you knew how hard this was for him, to open up, to let you into this part of his life he had guarded so much.

"You don't have to worry about that," you said softly, laying your hand over his. "I would never hurt her. Or you."

Noe's thumb stroked over your cheek, his eyes sealing to yours in an tight seriousness, as if you were the only person existing. "I know. That's why I love you."

The words hung between you and him, heavy with tension. You couldn't breathe for a second, heart pounding in your chest as you tried processing what he just said. He loved you.

You hadn't expected it, not so soon, not in that moment, but the way he looked at you, the way he had been with Luna, it made sense. It wasn't just the two of them anymore; it was all three, the small family that had formed.

A soft smile overspreads your face as you looked up at him, your hand clenching a little tighter around his. "I love you too, Noah."

The relief in his expression was genuine, and for him at least, it was as though the weight had finally been pulled off his shoulders. He pulled you into his arms, and you wrapped yours around him, holding close as he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in like he couldn’t believe you were real.

And for a long time, neither of them said anything. They only stood there with each other, wrapped in their own warmth, and the silence just told it all.

Then Noah leaned back, just a little, just enough to look down at you. And then his eyes were deeper and surer.

"I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't met you," he whispered huskily. "I don't think I even knew how much I needed someone like you, not just for me but for Luna, too."

You reached up and brushed a thumb over his cheek. "You're an amazing dad, Noah. You've done everything right for her. But you don't have to do it alone anymore."

He closed his eyes, like almost to let your words sink in. Opening them a second later, there was something soft, something vulnerable, that made you want to pull him closer still.

"I don't want to do it alone anymore," he whispered with his forehead against yours. "I want this. Us. You and me, and Luna. I want a family."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "Me too."

Noah's arms tugged closer, his lips finding yours in a gentle unhurried kiss that felt almost like a vow, like a start, the type of kiss that spoke of love, of trust, of a future that finally was starting to feel real.

He drew back and his eyes shone bright now with a happiness in them that hadn't been there before. He reached down, took your hand in his, and guided you back onto the couch. You sat together in the quiet glow of the livingroom.

You knew you would have one of those movie nights where you definitely fall asleep in his arms on the couch.

Noah for once in a long while felt something he hadn't dared to believe in, peace. Peace in knowing that he didn't have to protect himself and Luna anymore. Peace in knowing he was finally able to let you in, fully without any fear.

You sat there, his arm around you, knowing this was only the beginning of something beautiful: a life no more his or yours, but one which both of you had started building together.

hello friends in my phone! would you like more parts of this? (｡◕‿◕｡)

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe

[genderqueerdykes]

queer communities: please take a moment to read this ask sent by a nonbinary parent discussing their 11 year old transmasc child's experience if you don't believe that transandrophobia is real or that you don't think man hating hurts queer people.

i recently received an ask from a nonbinary parent whose 11 year old transmasc son is dealing with suicidal thoughts and regret because of these behaviors being so common in queer spaces now. he can't escape it, even his friends are awful to him about it and he has to apologize for being transmasc often. he is being robbed of his childhood because people are already forcing him to adopt the "man" role and take heat for it even though he is literally 11 years old.

please take the time to read his story. this is real. it hits hard. this is not just petty fighting online. it gets carried into the real world. those people don't stop believing those things just because they logged off. they're real people. all of these things affect real people because the people behind the posts are real and what they say stems from how they behave.

would you rather see dead trans boys instead of living trans men?

you know the rush you get when you fuck with someone? its temporary, and it creates a howling void. the way you treat that other person? Can stick with them for life. you getting your kicks out of abusing and bullying children has real world consequences. how would you feel if a trans boy actually ended their life because of what you said to them online? you'd say you'd feel proud, but you wouldn't. you won't feel good if it actually happens.

do boys not exist or do they get a special pass and are only killed once they're men? saying things like "kill all men" and pressuring trans men and boys to stop being trans or become more feminine or leave trans spaces altogether is hurting people in the real world. it's not just a funny haha thing you say online, it's happening. and the worst part is that it's the norm. not all transmascs have the ability to have any power over you at all. some transmasculine people are boys, not men. some are children you are not justified in mocking young transmasculine people because they're boys. they're not even men yet. trans boys aren't getting the chance to even become men, let alone be persecuted for it.

please stop. it's making children consider suicide. and don't you dare say "good". like how could a child dying because they were tortured mentally by adults and kids older than them dying ever be a good thing? they're vulnerable. trans boys are vulnerable. you're picking on vulnerable children. you're picking on adults who have already gone through this a million times before. enough. please stop bullying transmasc children. stop doing it to transmasc adults, too, stop doing it to all transmascs. but please stop making kids feel this way. that "petty teenage discourse" is a thing that carries over into the real world and hurts kids. teenagers are kids. preteens are kids. this is hurting the younger generation. why do we see this as okay?

this in and of itself is an example of transandrophobia. please stop. let trans boys grow up to be happy trans men who live long lives. they deserve it. protect trans kids includes transmasc kids and kids who are trans boys. we're shutting down these conversations. you can't keep doing this to other trans people and act like it's funny and cool and whatever.

like seriously, stop. dead children aren't funny.

we're done.

thank you.

[lvndosnorris]

sex with lando while he wears his racing helmet. ive been DYING for someone to do this!

"no— keep it on," your voice trailed off, fingers digging into lando's wrists as he went to tug off the helmet that was still covering his head. all you could see were his eyes narrowed in confusion, your imagination left to assemble what expression he was definitely pulling as you rocked a little further onto his lap, "i've wanted you to fuck me with this on for as long as i can remember."

of course that was the truth — always finding yourself chewing on the inside of your cheek as you waited in the paddock after his races, squeezing your thighs together in a discreet manner as you let your mind run wild. you'd stumbled over your words before, coming so close to pleading for him to slip it on in the bedroom. but your mouth would open and close, dumbfounded as you pushed the thought to the back of your mind and found yourself dumbly peeling off your clothes.

"is this what you've always wanted, hm?" lando's teases surged straight through your body, fingers tripping over themselves as you partly undid his racing suit. glimpses of his chest trickled through your hazed vision, his prominent erection creating a mound beneath your clothed cunt as you whined impatiently. time was not on your side, the idea of being walked into when you were both in your most vulnerable states making your chest heave — "you need some help with that baby? does my girl need some help?"

his question oozed smugness as he lifted his hips, only slightly from the padded chair of the backroom you'd dragged him to, helping you thumb over the waistband of his boxers before tracing over his clothed length. there was a part of you that wanted to rip the helmet from him so you could taste him, the urge for his mouth against yours quickly fizzling out as he grazed his hands over yours, almost following your every move in case you dizzily failed.

your dress was already hiked up your hips, the material bunching over the expanse of your stomach as you groaned at how he simply slipped your underwear to the side. there was no need to get you ready, bottom lip drew between your teeth as you positioned yourself blindly above him — the stinging sensation of him stretching you out earning a guttural whine from you, the exact noise that lando often found himself dreaming about. it was dirty, pornographic even. but he loved it.

there was nothing you wanted more than to watch his face twist in pleasure, how his mouth would hang open as he panted. his eyes creased as they screw shut until he was seeing stars. but this was even better; his visor open, noises concealed by his helmet as you grasped his shoulders for support. each rock of your hip pushed him further inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix with little to no warning, stomach tense as you cursed at how good he felt, how big he felt.

his words were slurred as he gripped your shoulders for dear life, helping you rise and slip down on him, his cock twitching uncontrollably as he studied how different you reacted to him. it was obvious that this was a fantasy you'd been swallowing back for months, your nails etching into the padded material of his race suit as you trembled. praises of how much of a good girl you were became accompanied by whimpers, his lap bucking up to meet you halfway as he noticed how you struggled to keep a rhythmic pace.

you didn't realise you were orgasming until is crashed over you, your limbs alight with pleasure as his name fell from your lips. it was harsh, sudden, every part of you shuddering against him as he continued to fuck up into you. he could have sworn he saw heaven right there and then — your cunt squeezing him tightly, the warmth of your juices coating his shaft and your inner thighs. words failed you, cries of oversensitivity filling his ears as he stilled inside of you, soothing down your back as you stifled a worn-out giggle, "we need to do this more often."

[imujings]

hoshi + work song by hozier? :)

when i was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet in the low lamp light i was free

wc <1k. warnings FLUFF!!!, suggestive (they make out at the end. sorry. i’m normal), lots of kissing, hella praise (someone needs to tell soonyoung he’s doing good RIGHT NOW!!). jay’s musings i am so weak for soft sy + this song makes me go ABSOLUTELY FERAL .°(ಗдಗ。)°. you are so right anon. speak ur truth

The lighting in the room is dim, cozy. It’s well into the morning, sunlight streaming faintly through the curtained windows and finding home atop your bedsheets.

You press a long, soft kiss to Soonyoung’s bare shoulder. He’s been murmuring in his sleep for quite awhile now, shifting around like he’s trying to escape some paranormal entity unbeknownst to you. Your fingers inch under the covers and find his.

“Love,” you hum into his skin.

The man shivers at your touch, jolting awake with a gasp. His hair sticks up in all kinds of directions, unkempt from sleep, and you smooth a hand through it. Soonyoung leans into your fingers with an achingly gentle sigh.

“Nightmare again?” you tilt your head in a question.

He nods, eyes fluttering shut when you run a thumb across his cheek. You trace the knot in his eyebrows with your gaze, all the way down to the slope of his collarbone, exposed and vulnerable.

“I can’t remember much of it now,” Soonyoung confesses. “But it felt like I had this big weight on my shoulders—metaphorically, that is. There was so much guilt it was overwhelming. Like I couldn’t breathe, almost. I was in front of you, and you were looking at me, waiting for me to speak, and… I remember feeling terrified. Of what you would think of me if I told you about what I did.”

While you’re listening, your thumb on his cheek never pauses in its soft, methodical swipes along his skin. The barren sunlight leaves him dappled in a honeying glow.

Your heartbeat pounds loud in your ears, your mind taking action to bring his attention to just how much you yearn for him through a steady rhythm of love—if for nothing else but to soothe his worries.

To reiterate your thoughts, you pull him in, letting your arms lay loose around his neck. Your foreheads rest against the other’s.

“Soonyoung,” you whisper, lips brushing his.

His eyes flicker between your soft, melting gaze and the way your mouth curls to enunciate his name. His own lips are parted, waiting, and you’re eager to give, dipping in to steal a kiss.

“You could never,” you kiss him again and he chases your lips. “Never, ever ever, even try to get me to hate you.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Soonyoung says brokenly. “How could you say that?”

Another kiss—one that’s unhurried, searing with want. Your lips travel to the corner of his mouth and down to his jawline. He whimpers at your nibbling.

“You act as if we are made to be perfect,” is your hushed reply, pressing an open-mouth kiss to underside of his jaw. “You’re talking as if being loved and being perfect are synonyms. As if they mean the same thing.”

“In reality, they simply coexist together. Their relationship is more of a simultaneous thing; you are loved, and at the same time, you are perfect just the way you are. Did you know, I love you? I love you, in your entirety—all your sins, all your fears. I love you because they make you, you. Your hatred, your pain, your burdens—are they not just feelings that coexist with the love inside of you? I love you because you are whole and filled with emotions. I love you because you are love.”

There’s a pause, and you draw your face back up to his level again. Soonyoung is staring at you, eyes glassy and lips wobbling.

You’re wondering if you’ve gone too far with your nonsensical ramblings when he kisses you, and all air is knocked out of your lungs.

“Thank you,” he sobs, and you taste the saltiness of his tears as his lips press against yours, frantic, needy.

His hands are in a frenzy, gripping your bare skin like you’ll disappear at any moment. You whine at his touch, passion overtaking you as your fingers wrap themselves in his locks of hair. The man moans when you tug, and the noise sounds so melodic it has you tearing up yourself.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Soonyoung murmurs; you can’t tell what tears belong to who anymore, but you don’t think it matters when you’re this tangled up in each other.

“You are love, too. My love. You are my freedom—my life, my eternity. Thank you.”

wanna queue a song?

[solxamber]

Octavinelle, Comedy, “So what if I like you? What if it?” I’ve been going through a rough patch right now and your writing had been a source of comfort for me. 💚

I'm so glad my work comforts you and I hope everything gets better for you soon <3

Revelations || Azul Ashengrotto

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "So what if I like you? What of it?" ; Genre: Comedy (+ Little Fluff)

The day started like any other in Mostro Lounge, except for the suspiciously smug grins Jade and Floyd wore as they passed you.

Jade smiled that too-polite smile that meant trouble. “Ah, Prefect. Have you noticed how… focused Azul is on you lately?”

Before you could ask what he meant, Floyd groaned dramatically. “It’s gross, Shrimpy. He’s got your name everywhere. Doodles on contracts, on napkins, even on the margins of his planner. He’s even been practicing signing your names together like he’s gonna marry ya!”

“Lovesick…?” you echoed, stunned.

“Oh, yes,” Jade confirmed, smirking. “Azul is quite taken with you. Though, of course, he’d never admit it himself.”

That was how your day of hints began.

You strolled into the Mostro Lounge, where Azul was carefully reviewing some paperwork. “You know, Azul, you’re so talented. And smart. And handsome. Really, you’re like the full package.”

Azul froze mid-signature, his pen trembling slightly. “…Thank you?” he said, his voice unusually high-pitched.

You winked. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think someone like you would already have a partner.”

He choked. “W-what makes you say that?”

“Oh, no reason.”

During lunch, you walked up to Azul’s table and casually handed him a napkin. “Hey, I thought you might need this.”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “Why would I need a napkin?”

You leaned in close, whispering, “You know, for the drool. Since you stare at me so much.”

The way his glasses slid down his nose from sheer panic was worth it.

Later, you “accidentally” left a note on his desk that read: I heard someone likes me. Who could it possibly be?

Azul looked extremly flustered as he looked around. He quickly crumpled the note, but you swore you saw him stash it in his coat pocket instead of throwing it away.

Finally, you found him in the Lounge’s kitchen, overseeing a new recipe. You grabbed a whisk and grinned. “Hey, Boss. Got room for a sous chef who happens to know you’re in love with them?”

Azul dropped the spoon. “WHAT?!”

By the end of the day, Azul looked like he was about to combust. You figured it was time to cut to the chase.

You found him pacing in his office, muttering to himself. When he saw you, he froze, his face already flushed.

“Azul,” you said, smiling gently, “I know.”

His eyes widened. “K-know what?”

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “I know you like me. And, just so you know, I like you too.”

Azul stiffened, his expression shifting from shock to suspicion. “You’re… making fun of me, aren’t you?!”

He stepped closer, his hands clenched. “So what if I like you? What of it?”

His words hung in the air, defiant yet vulnerable. You softened, reaching out to touch his arm. “Azul, I’m not teasing. I really do like you. I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

His lips parted, his bravado crumbling as realization dawned. “You… you mean it?”

You smiled warmly. “Yes. So, will you be my boyfriend, or are you going to make me spell it out again?”

Azul looked away, his face as red as coral. “If you’re serious… then yes. I’d like that very much.”

His shy smile was so endearing that you couldn’t resist pulling him into a hug. Somewhere in the distance, you swore you could hear Floyd laughing, but you didn’t care.

“Good,” you said, squeezing his hand. “Because I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

Azul laughed nervously, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I’ll need to thank Jade and Floyd later… or perhaps not.”

You laughed, and he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “You’ve officially turned my world upside down. But for you, I don’t mind.”

Masterlist

[nhaaauyen]

is it casual now? ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

modern sev x reader au: after a shitty day at work, you go to the beach to release some stress, only for a certain coworker to show up.

series masterpost: floating wc: 4.2k author's note: everything that happened in this fic did actually happen with a girl I was seeing LMAOO (except for the kiss cause i was too shy) but i’ve been wanting to write an ode to this memory for so long! though the title was named after casual by chappell roan, i actually don't recommend you listen to it when you read this because this is anything but casual ~ My Song Recommendation

Sev: Why are you at the beach at 11PM? You: ? You: Why can't I be? Sev: Because it closes at 12am Sev: And you said before you don't go out past 11PM on workdays You: I didn't know you worked for the beach patrol Sev: Lol

You stare at your phone screen, watching the three message dots bounce back and forth. You know you're being an asshole, but you can't help the snappiness in your tone. Sevika never cared or talked to you outside of work before, so why does she suddenly care now?

The typing bubbles disappear and relief washes over you, but a small, masochistic part of you wishes she'd actually sent something.

Sev: Are you good?

The three-word question glares at you from the screen. 

Are you good? Absolutely not. 

But this is Sev, the woman who doesn't bother with greetings or a courtesy "How are you" despite working together for months. How do you answer a question that could unravel the emotions you're barely keeping at bay, especially to someone who's never asked before?

You: Yeah  You: I'll go soon so you don't have to stalk my location haha Sev: Alright

You stare at the tiny message bubble until the blue light stings your eyes. Finally, you shut off your phone and toss it onto your makeshift blanket.

The beach is eerily quiet save for the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silvery glow across the water and illuminating the foam as it rushes up the sand. You sit there as the incident at work replays in your mind for the hundredth time. Your head server's harsh words, the embarrassment of being scolded in public, the shame from how quick you were brought to tears - it all comes rushing back, making your chest tighten. 

The cool sand beneath your fingers grounds you somewhat and you inhale deeply, letting the briny scent of the ocean fill your lungs. 

A cool breeze picks up, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You shiver as you sit there, feeling small and vulnerable, and you can't help but wonder how you'll face everyone tomorrow. The thought makes your stomach churn, and you close your eyes, trying to shut out the world for just a little longer.

As you close your eyes, a new sound cuts through the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. The crunch of rubber tires over pebbles grows louder, and suddenly, a bright light washes over you. You squint, momentarily blinded by the harsh glare of headlights.

"You really had to make me search for you, Pagli?"

Your head whips around in shock, eyes wide as you see Sevika stepping out of her car. You scramble to your feet, brushing sand from your clothes.

"Sev? What are you— You didn't have to come here," you protest.

She approaches with a casual shrug. "Well, too bad, cause I was near here anyways. Had to make sure you weren't drowning or joining a beach cult."

You can't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. "A beach cult? Really?"

"Hey, you never know," Sevika retorts with a smirk. "I don’t know what you like to do late at night."

You shake your head, trying to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. You should go home."

"Nah, I think I'll stick around," she says, plopping down on the sand next to where you were sitting. "Unless you've got some secret midnight rituals planned?"

You roll your eyes, but feel your resolve weakening. "You're stubborn as hell, you know that?"

"Part of my charm," Sevika replies with a wink. "Now, are you gonna sit back down, or do I have to drag you?"

After a moment's hesitation, you sigh and lower yourself back onto the sand. "Fine, you win. But don't expect me to be good company."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sevika says softly, her tone gentler than before. "But I'm here if you want to talk. Or not talk. Whatever you need."

“I’m good.”  You replied.

“Fine with me.” 

As you sit in silence, Sevika reaches into her pocket and pulls out a joint. You can't help but shake your head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable," you mutter.

She glances at you, eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Do you just have an unlimited source of that or something?"

Sevika just shrugs, a small smirk playing on her lips as she places the joint between them. As she fumbles for her lighter, she catches you staring and pauses.

"Do you want some?" she offers casually.

You hesitate, fingers fidgeting in the sand. "No... uh, I never tried."

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Serious?"

"Yeah," you admit, feeling a bit self-conscious.

Sevika's expression softens slightly. "Well, Pagli, I'm in a sharing mood, so..."

You shake your head quickly. "Nah, I'm gonna embarrass myself. I don't know how to..."

"It's easy," she assures you. "Just inhale, hold it for a bit, and release."

You eye the joint warily. "Uh, shit... Yeah sure."

Instead of handing it over, Sevika brings the joint to her lips and lights it. You watch intently as she demonstrates, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she inhales. She holds it for a moment, then slowly exhales a stream of smoke into the night air.

Your eyes are fixed on her, taking in every detail of the process. There's something almost mesmerizing about the way the smoke curls from her lips, dissipating into the darkness.

Sevika turns to you, holding out the joint. "Your turn, if you want."

You hesitate, your heart racing a little. Part of you wants to refuse, to play it safe knowing that you wouldn’t risk humiliation in front of your coworker when you end up messing up, but another part of you was just completely over this day.

Slowly, you reach out and take the joint from her fingers, your skin brushing against hers for a brief moment.

You take the joint, bringing it to your lips with nervous anticipation. Trying to mimic Sevika's actions, you inhale deeply. Immediately, your eyes go wide as the smoke hits your lungs. You start coughing violently, your throat burning.

To your surprise, Sevika gently pats your back. "It's okay, Pagli! Damn. You just gotta practice some more."

As your coughing subsides, you realize this is the most Sevika has ever talked to you. It's oddly comforting, despite your embarrassment. You hand the joint back to her and she casually takes a puff, with her head leaning back slightly as she exhales.

"You're not cold?"

"No, why?" you ask, puzzled.

She gestures at your outfit. "Because you haven't changed out of your work uniform."

Instead of answering - because you know where that conversation would lead - you reach for the joint again. This time, you focus intently on mimicking Sevika's technique. You inhale, hold it for a moment, and exhale. There's still a slight cough, but it's significantly better than your first attempt.

"Hell yeah!" you exclaim, feeling a small surge of pride. "I sorta did it!"

Sevika gives you a half-grin that makes your heart skip a beat. "See? You're gonna be a pro soon." She pauses, her grin widening slightly. "But you're gonna get super hungry later at this rate."

Your eyes widen as realization hits you. "Oh fuck, you're right. I didn't bring any food," you say, a slight pout forming on your lips.

"I brought something," she offers, "but in exchange, you have to tell me what's going on."

You roll your eyes, you weren’t going to fall for that. "I can deal with it."

"Fine," she shrugs, "then no more." She makes a motion as if to put out the joint.

"What? I'm still practicing!" you protest. "What happened to trying to get me to the pro league?"

Sevika just laughs, the sound unexpectedly warm. "Sorry, there's an entry fee."

You sigh, knowing you're cornered. "Fine," you mutter, then barely above a whisper, add, "I fucked up bad at work today."

Her expression turns serious. "What do you mean?"

Taking a deep breath, you tucked a stray hair behind your ear and avoided eye contact. "There was this creepy guy at one of my tables. He kept specifically asking for random things like more napkins or refills, and I knew why he did that." You shudder slightly at the memory. "I wanted to switch with a male server, but we were too booked so I just tried to bear with it.  I didn’t think he would cross any lines since it looked like he was with family too."

Sevika listens intently as you continue, "It got too far when he kept making me uncomfortable, saying he would tip well if I gave him my number." Your hands clenched into fists in the sand. "So after I came back, I... I 'accidentally' spilled water on him."

You can't meet Sevika's eyes as you finish, "I knew it was unprofessional and petty, but I was so frustrated. After getting yelled at by the head server, it kind of hit me what I did."

As you fall silent, you feel a mix of shame and lingering anger. You wait anxiously for Sevika's response, afraid to see judgment in her eyes.

But Sevika's response catches you off guard. "He deserved it," she says firmly.

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Huh? But I made a mess because I couldn't keep my emotions in check. You know there are always going to be horrible customers..."

She cuts you off with a shake of her head. "Nah, he deserved it. It's a shame you couldn't stay to watch when I kicked him out and announced that he was trying to grope one of our servers in front of his entire family and the restaurant."

You stare at her incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. "No way? You actually did that?"

Sevika shrugs nonchalantly. "What's Silco gonna do? I'm the best general manager he's got." She pauses, a prideful glint in her eye. "Though our head server might need a bit of retraining."

You can't believe what you're hearing. Sev, the Sev, actually stood up for you. A wave of gratitude washes over you, and you suddenly feel shy.

"Thank you... for that," you murmur. "It meant a lot."

She just nods in response, a comfortable silence falling between you. Sevika passes you the joint again, and this time when you take a hit, you manage to do it without coughing. 

"I did it!" you exclaim, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

"Look at you, you might get into the Olympics next." She teased.

The tension from earlier completely dissipated, and you can't help but feel a newfound appreciation for Sevika.

"Okay, you gotta slow down now. This is your first time," Sevika warns, pulling the joint away as you reach for it again.

"Nooo, give it," you whine, making a half-hearted grab for it.

She shakes her head firmly. "Nuh-uh." Sevika puts out the joint despite your protests.  Then, without warning, she announces, "I'm lying down."

"What?" you ask, confused by the sudden change.

Sevika doesn't respond, just leans back onto an apron acting as your beach blanket. After a moment's hesitation, you did the same. It's only now that you realize how close she is. You can see the rise and fall of her chest, steady and rhythmic.

You close your eyes, letting the sensations wash over you. "Do you hear that?" you murmur. "The waves sound amazing." A small giggle escapes your lips.

"It's hitting you now," Sevika observes, amusement coloring her voice.

"Shhh, Sev. Listen," you insist, your voice barely above a whisper.  If only you didn’t close your eyes at that moment, because then you would’ve seen the shy smile appear on her lips at the nickname that she only lets you use on her.

As you concentrate on the sound of the waves, you became aware that you're also following the pattern of Sevika's breathing. It's oddly comforting, this synchronicity between her, you, and the ocean.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you dare to look over at her. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize she's staring at you with those stormy gray eyes that never seem to reveal anything. The intensity of her gaze sends a jolt through you, triggering an immediate panic.

You sit up abruptly, your heart racing. Sevika follows, concern etched on her previously relaxed face. "What's wrong?"

"Uh, I'm hungry," you blurt out, desperate for a distraction.

Sevika just laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Here, I’m glad I brought this," she says, reaching into her pocket. She pulls out a colorful bag of sour gummy worms, the plastic crinkling loudly in the quiet night.

The sight of the candy, so unexpectedly bright in contrast to Sevika's stoic character, makes you laugh. You watch as she pulls out a gummy worm, the candy stretching slightly before she bites into it. The casual act feels strangely intimate in this moment, and you find yourself transfixed by the movement of her jaw as she chews.

"Want one?" she asks, holding out the bag to you.

Your fingers brush against hers as you reach for a candy, sending another small shiver through you. As you pop the gummy worm into your mouth, the burst of sour flavor feels like a shock against your tongue.

While you devoured practically half the bag, Sevika stretches languidly before lying back down on the sand. You followed suit, turning to face her. This time, feeling way less sober than the beginning, you don't shy away from her gaze.

You notice one of her usually tucked fringes has come loose, falling softly across her forehead. Your fingers twitch with the urge to brush it back, but you manage to restrain yourself.

Sevika's eyes are fixed on you, her expression softer than you've ever seen it. "I'm tired," she mumbles, her voice low and slightly husky. "I want to sleep... this feels nice."

A dopey smile spreads across your face at the sight of her uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Do it," you encourage gently.

"Wake me up in a bit?" she asks, her eyelids already starting to droop.

"Of course," you assure her.

As Sevika's eyes close, you sit there, taking in the moment. You listened to the rhythm of her breathing mix with the sound of the waves and the refreshing sea breeze. 

Suddenly, Sevika makes a noise that's almost like a whine. "It's cold," she murmurs, not opening her eyes.

"Really?" you ask, surprised.

"Yeah," she confirms. Then, to your shock, she says, "Come here."

Before you can process what's happening, Sevika is draping her red jacket over both of you. The action brings you even closer to her, and your brain struggles to keep up with this new development.

You find yourself studying Sevika's features up close. Her nose, which you've always thought was cute but never dared to admit, her long lashes resting against her cheeks, and the scar that runs across her cheekbone.

The warmth of her body so close to yours, the scent of her cologne mingling with the salt air, the soft sound of her breathing - it all combined to create a moment so intimate and unexpected that you feel almost dizzy with it. You're acutely aware of every point where your body is almost, but not quite, touching hers.

Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure she must be able to hear it. But Sevika's breathing has evened out, suggesting she's drifting off to sleep. You lie there, barely daring to move, caught between the desire to savor this moment and the fear of disturbing her.

You find yourself caught in Sevika's gaze as her eyes slowly flutter open. The moonlight reflects in her dark irises, creating an almost ethereal effect. 

"What are you staring at?"

Your heart skips a beat. "You," you reply without thinking, then immediately feel heat rush to your cheeks.

A smirk plays at the corner of Sevika's lips. "Mmm... you're plotting my murder, right?"

You can't help but chuckle softly. "Haha, of course.  I’ve been waiting months for this moment.”

"Damn," she sighs dramatically, through her eyes sparkled with amusement. "At least I get a gorgeous view before my final moments."

The air between you suddenly feels charged. You fall silent, profoundly aware of every breath, every subtle movement. Sevika's hair has fallen across her face, obscuring part of her scar. Without really thinking about it, you reach out, gently tucking the errant strand behind her ear.

As you start to pull your hand back, Sevika's fingers wrap around your wrist. Her touch is gentle, a stark contrast to her usual brusque demeanor. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat.

"Don't," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the soft lapping of waves.

Sevika holds your hand gently, her calloused fingers tracing over yours with surprising tenderness. She examines each fingertip as if committing them to memory. Just as you're getting lost in the intimacy of the moment, she breaks the silence.

"You got tiny ass hands, Pagli.”

You blink, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

Sevika bursts out laughing, the sound rich and wonderful. Her head tilts back, revealing a full set of stunning teeth. The sight momentarily captivates you, but you quickly recover, determined not to let her win this moment.

"You know, I was only trying to steal the gummies," you retort, trying to keep a straight face.

Her eyebrow arches challengingly. "Really? Come and get it then."

Before you know it, you're both wrestling on the makeshift blanket. Sand flies everywhere as you tussle, laughter filling the air. It's been so long since you've felt this carefree, this alive. Your worries from earlier seem like a distant memory now.

Somehow, you manage to gain the upper hand. You find yourself practically pinning Sevika down, your faces mere inches apart. You can feel her warm breath on your skin, catching the faint scent of weed. Your heart races, and for a moment, you're tempted to close that small distance between you.

Instead, you break the tension by snatching the bag of gummies from her grasp. "I win!" you declare triumphantly.

But even as you say it, the victory feels hollow. The gummy bag hangs limp in your hand as you watch Sevika accept defeat with surprising grace. She's still beneath you, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her eyes locked on yours.

You wish you could reach out and caress her face, trace the line of her scar, feel the softness of her skin again. The urge is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, unsure of how she'd react. The moment stretches between you, filled with unspoken words and possibilities.

Sevika pats the spot next to her, inviting you back. You settle in, acutely aware of her warmth beside you. Her eyes, dark and curious, search your face.

"What are you thinking about now, Pagli?" she asks softly.

Before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out. "I want to play with your hair."

Immediately, heat rushes to your face. You're about to stammer an apology when Sevika takes your hand, guiding it to her hair. The silky softness surprises you, and you can't help but run your fingers through the strands.

Sevika's eyes flutter closed, a contented sigh escaping her lips. Encouraged, you begin to gently massage her scalp, marveling at how relaxed she seems.

"What does Pagli mean?" you whisper.

A smirk plays on Sevika's lips. "Crazy girl," she replies without skipping a beat.

"Huh?!" You're not sure whether to be offended or flattered.

"It's because you do crazy and bold things. I like that about you."

Your stomach flutters with warmth at the admission. Sevika leans into your touch, murmuring, "That feels amazing."

Gradually, she shifts closer, until her head is tucked against your chest. You can feel the steady pace of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours. Without really meaning to, you find yourselves practically spooning.

As you stretch out, your feet brush against her shins, and you realize just how much taller she is. It's oddly endearing, this contrast between you. Your fingers continue their gentle exploration of her hair, occasionally trailing down to trace the curve of her neck.

The moment feels soft, intimate in a way you never expected. The sound of waves provides a soothing backdrop, and the moonlight casts a gentle glow over you both. You're struck by how vulnerable Sevika looks like this, all her usual sharp edges softened.

You want to say something, to put into words the feeling blooming in your chest, but you're afraid to break the spell. So instead, you hold her close, savoring the unexpected comfort of this moment, wondering how something so beautiful could arise from such a difficult day.

You keep replaying the moment when Sevika's strong arms practically dragged you into cuddling her. The memory sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Your hand moves almost of its own accord, slowly rubbing circles on her back. You hear her sigh contentedly, the sound filling you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the physical closeness.

Just as you're sinking deeper into this blissful moment, bright white lights suddenly flash on, startling you both. A loud voice booms across the beach: "THE BEACH IS CLOSING IN 10 MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO THE PARKING LOT."

"Urghhh," you groan.  You instinctively buried your face into your hands.

Sevika's response is even more vocal - she lets out a louder, more dramatic groan that vibrates through her chest and into yours. The sound is so unexpected and so uncharacteristically cute, that you can't help but laugh.

Your laughter seems to break the spell. Sevika lifts her head, her hair mussed from your earlier attentions, and gives you a mock glare that's softened by the smile tugging at her lips.

"What's so funny, Pagli?" she asks, her voice husky with lingering sleep.

"Nothing," you say, still chuckling. "Just... I never pegged you for a whiner."

Sevika rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it," she grumbles.

You lean in close to Sevika, whispering conspiratorially, "They can't kick us off if we hide in the sand, right?"

"Yeah, or if we stay really still," she adds, barely suppressing a grin.

You both freeze comically, trying to blend in with the beach around you. But as the final announcement blares across the sand, you finally admit defeat.

As you both reluctantly start to gather your things, you can't help but steal glances at Sevika. Her hair is tousled, her clothes rumpled from lying on the beach, and there's a softness to her expression that you've never seen before. It makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.

Just as you're about to lead the way back, Sevika suddenly grabs your hand, pulling you back towards her. Before you can react, her lips are on yours.

You were suddenly frozen, till your brain practically yelled, Fucking kiss the hot girl back you dumbass! Your hand immediately slides into her hair, and you respond back to the kiss with the same ferocity.  All the tension that's been building between you tonight finally finds its release. Her lips are softer than you imagined, moving against yours with a passion that takes your breath away.  

But the moment was short-lived when it was cut short by another blaring announcement. 

Sevika breaks away, growling, "I'm going to break that speaker."

You can't help but laugh at her annoyance, the sound bubbling up from the happiness overflowing in your chest. You lean in, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "C'mon, we can continue this later."

Sevika nods, a small but genuine smile playing on her lips. She has that look on her face, that is just so content and full of adoration that your legs practically felt like jelly.

“Race you back to the car, loser has to buy dinner!” You yell as you spirit across the sand.  

You were fortunate enough to get a head start because once Sev realized what was happening, you could already see a blur of her movement closing the distance through the corner of your eye. Your hair whipped wildly in the wind along your combined unadulterated, giddy laughters echoing in the night air.  

With her athletic build, she easily caught up to you but instead of surpassing you, her hand found yours. Her fingers intertwined with yours, fitting perfectly. The warmth of her palm against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You two slowed your pace into an amble, the sound of waves fading behind you. Every so often, you steal glances at Sevika, still hardly believing this night has been real.

When her car comes into view, Sevika gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You turn to look at her, finding her eyes already on you, soft and full of something that makes you unsure of whether this moment was a dream or not.

Sevika tugs you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "We should do this again sometime," she murmurs against your skin. "Minus the getting kicked off the beach part."

You chuckle at the joke and tuck your head into her chest, listening to her heartbeat. Thump. Thump.

"Thank you," she says quietly, her voice a small murmur above your ear, "for making a shitty day end beautifully."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. 

"Thank you for finding me."

[navybrat817]

Hiiii Navy- how is our biker Bucky? I'm excited that his reader is a nurse because I am also a nurse...!

I'm glad you're excited, and I may have to get more of your insight as this goes on. And how he's doing...

Thinking About You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky's thinking about you after meeting you.

Word Count: Over 500

Warnings: Mix of fluff and dirty thoughts, love at first sight, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'll try to post more of this AU once more. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s thinking about your beautiful eyes and smile, but how you’re much more than a pretty face and how you must really be some sort of angel. You were a nurse, after all. Nurses helped provide comfort, protection, and care to others. You helped people heal. And, fuck, do you look good in white.

He’s thinking about how you listened to him when he talked. You were actually interested in his writing and the bar. He hoped you’d stop by at some point. Maybe he could convince you to stay after closing so the two of you could have the place to yourself. He’d even share some of his writing with you.

He’s thinking about how your eyes will light up when he brings the club to the blood drive tomorrow. At least, he hopes they’ll light up and that you don’t be afraid. His brothers could come across as intimidating from a first glance, but they were all good guys and the drive was for a good cause. You also didn’t seem put off that he was a biker.

He’s thinking about what an idiot he is for not asking for your number, and how he should’ve gone after you when you left. If he had your number right now, he’d message you just to say hi. He wasn’t leaving the drive tomorrow without asking for it.

He’s thinking about what your past relationships were like. How did your exes treat you? He’ll treat you well. Why didn’t the relationships last? Did anyone break your trust? If someone hurt you he’ll take the pain away. If the pain is no longer there he’ll do his best to help you should it surface unexpectedly.

He’s thinking about how he wants to take care of you, how he wants to learn your love language, and earn your trust. He wants to be your friend and have you confide in him, to learn your fears so he can protect you from them, and to learn how to make you smile again when you’re feeling down or hurt.

He’s thinking about how he wants to confide in you, too. To be vulnerable and open. It isn’t easy to let people in, but you make it seem effortless for him. He wants you to see every side of himself, every shadow, and tell you every story about every scar and tattoo.

He’s thinking about you as he lays in bed, fisting his cock, imagining the sounds you’d make as you lay beneath him. Or on top of him. How you’ll melt on his tongue. How blissed out you’d look when you fall apart. He knows you’ll feel like heaven when he’s inside you if you ever let him get that far.

He’s thinking about you post orgasm when he catches his breath. It’s a little scary that he already wants you to be his girl, and he refuses to believe it’s just infatuation. It’s something deeper. And if you give him a chance, he’ll make sure you never regret it.

I guess we can consider this part of Ficlet Friday? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[heavenbarnes]

okay hear me out— softness and gentle topics aside, how would older bf!simon go about discussing his mom & Tommy? would it ever occur? Would it be a vulnerable and gentle discussion with sins laid on the table or would it be like pulling teeth— panic attack arises and the words are spewing.

at first I’d have headcanoned it that maybe we innocently question the clinginess but I’m not so sure anymore; feels like that would just be second nature for the two.

i’ve never ventured into this topic because it’s literally so devastating that i almost considered writing it out of canon for him- but it’s time 🫶🏼 (massive tw for family loss)

the day older bf!simon tells you about his family, it’s at breakfast.

he’d made the food and you’d made the coffee, both expertly passing each other in your kitchen until you’d settled at the table.

when he told you, you had toast hanging out your mouth.

“pardon?”

“i had a family”

you weren’t really talking about anything in particular, so you made quick mental work of skimming over your conversation until you found where this was coming from.

sunny outside, nice day, should go to the farmers market, get groceries, it’ll be crowded, family day-

i had a family

had.

oh.

your heart had start to speed up in your chest and part of you was scared simon’s military precision hearing would be able to tell.

judging by the look on his face, distant, quiet- he couldn’t hear the thrumming against your sternum.

you were thankful, it meant he kept speaking.

“my mum and my brother, tommy- he had a missus too and a kid”

had.

oh god.

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze drifted out the window and onto the birds that were floating over the fruit tree in the backyard.

you couldn’t say there was much of you to look at, a hardline of your mouth and eyes that were willing themselves not to water.

“they weren’t in a good way- but i helped them get better”

the corners of your lips quirked reflexively but it fell away just as quickly, unable to escape the voice in the back of your head that kept saying the same thing.

had.

why is every thing in the past tense?

probably for the same reason this is the first time you’re hearing this story. when is the right time to get to this part?

the moment he cuts the rope, lets you down from where he’s had you hanging- you wish you could react in any other way.

instead, your mouth hangs open while your hand does its best to cover it.

the toast goes cold, so does the coffee.

the tears break through of their own accord.

and he still won’t look at you.

“oh, simon”

your mind races in a way you’ve never felt before, thoughts you’d never had before rising to the surface.

first, you want to hurt someone, anyone- whoever you can blame for doing this to simon.

(you quickly realise he’s probably already done that)

second, you want to take him by the shoulders and tell him that this was never his fault.

that there was nothing he did or could’ve done to deserve this.

and you’re sure that there’s layers to his job and things he’s done and seen that’d make him think that cannot be true.

but you don’t care- there is no human alive that could ever deserve what you’ve just been told.

you don’t care.

you love him.

third, you start to make sense of some of simon’s behaviours.

the way he calls your name when you’re at the other end of the house, just to know where you are.

the way you can turn around at any given moment and find him closer than your shadow.

the way he calls you on deployment only to hear you tell him you love him and you’re still home waiting.

the way he cannot exist without a hand on you, without knowing where you are, without knowing you’re still his.

and there you go again, wanting to hurt whoever put him in this position.

grateful to be able to love him how he needs but angry- blind rage in knowing what he went through to get to this point.

it’s why you’re out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his shoulders the minute you hear even a sniff.

you let him ruin your shirt with tears as strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so close into him you wouldn’t be at all surprised if the particles shifted just enough for you to become one.

as if you weren’t already.

you’d never, never ever, questioned simon’s ever present need to be close. you’d come to accept it, enjoy it, miss it when he was gone.

it was never overbearing, never out of line, always right when you needed it.

reminding you that he was there.

that he loved you.

that he needed you.

just as much as you needed him.

and god, did he need to be needed.

did he need you to pass him the pickle jar (even when you could open it just fine)

did he need you to make him take the rubbish out (when you could do it yourself)

did he need you to call him when the car was making a funny sound (when you knew it was the fan belt)

did you need him to pull you into his lap at the end of a long day and rest his lips against the crown of your head as he rubbed slow circles into your back.

like you were doing for him now.

“simon, i just need you to know- i’m not going anywhere”

you made it to the farmer’s market, eventually. it was crowded, meaning simon’s arm never let your waist.

not that you mind.

not that you ever mind.

[actuallysaiyan]

You Could Have Have Anyone You Want, Why Would You Want To Be With Me?

warnings: Post-Shibuya, mentions of scars, smut, insecurities, JJK Spoilers, unprotected sex/creampie finish word count: 1.4k pairings: Post-Shibuya!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: your husband feels so insecure since surviving the Shibuya Incident, he doesn't understand why you'd stay with him...so you remind him of just how much you truly love him.

Your heart is breaking every time you look at your husband. Ever since the Shibuya Incident, he’s been a shell of a man. You know it’s really affected him and made him feel so useless and vulnerable. He feels like a burden on you.

But it doesn’t take long for you to begin missing physical intimacy with him. He’s healed up well thanks to Shoko’s technique, but there are still some scars and he’s got a weak leg and he can’t see perfectly well out of his left eye. He doesn’t think he looks good at all, despite the fact that he still looks so picturesque and gorgeous as he always has.

One night as he’s winding down after a day at the office, you find yourself feeling even more needy than usual. You want to crawl onto his lap and press soft kisses all over his face and chest. There’s a part of you that is so scared to initiate anything. Still, you want to show him you still love him just as much as before.

So after a warm shower and lots of skincare, you throw on one of Kento’s t-shirts and you go snuggle up next to him on the couch. The minute he sees you, his eyes widen. There’s a dusting of pink on his cheeks that gives him that perfect boyish charm you’ve come to fall for.

“Hi, sweetheart.” You coo softly, your hand coming up to caress his cheek.

He slides away, “Are you comfortable?”

You sigh softly, turning away so he doesn’t see just how upset you are. He feels something stirring inside of him, but he thinks there’s just no way you’d ever want to be intimate with him ever again. His heart aches at the thought of you growing bored of him and finding someone new.

“Yes, I’m comfortable.” You scoot closer, your hand gently brushing down his arm.

His heart skips a beat as he realizes what you’re trying to do. He can’t help but think this has got to be out of pity. How could you possibly think he’s attractive? He takes your hands in his and then gently places them on your lap.

“Please, I don’t…I don’t think I can handle the thought of you touching me out of pity.”

Your mouth hangs open as your jaw drops. How could he possibly think that was the reason you were touching him? It’s been months since you’ve been able to place your hands adoringly on his skin. It’s been months since he’s been deep inside of you, head on your chest and panting for more of you even if he’s as deep as can be.

“Why would you dare say something like that?” You snap, your words coming out harsher than you’d like.

Kento hesitates, “B-because…there’s just no way you could still find me attractive.”

His hands gesture towards his damaged eye, the littering of scars on that side of his body and his lame leg. Tears well up in your eyes as you settle on your knees on the couch. You can’t help yourself as you begin to cry.

“Kento Nanami, I have been in love with you since the day I met you. Just because you were injured gravely doesn’t stop me from loving you and thinking you're attractive.” You take a deep breath, “It has been months since we’ve had sex and I just…I just miss my husband so much.”

It’s Kento’s turn to begin to cry. You’ve hardly ever seen him cry. Maybe a few times since you’ve known him, and this was different from the times you’ve seen before. He’s so vulnerable right now, and you can tell he’s scared to lose you.

“I–I didn’t know what to think. My darling, I worried that maybe you’d grow tired of a damaged old man like me,”

You don’t even know what to say, so instead you wrap your arms around him softly and you begin pressing kisses all over his face like you wanted to. His cheeks grow hotter, and more tears stream down his face. He’s so happy to feel this love and affection again.

“I just feel like a monster every time I look in the mirror,”

This comment breaks your heart even more. You cup his face in your hands and you press your lips to his. It’s soft, loving and so tender. When you pull away, you press your forehead to his. In a soft tone, you whisper the sweetest words of love and praise for this man before you.

“You aren’t a monster. You are a hero, my love. And I am so happy I have you here with me. I am so grateful I get to live another day with you every time we wake up together in bed.”

He gasps softly at your words. He’s blushing even more now than ever. Then you gently take his hand and bring it under the hem of the shirt you’re wearing. He grunts softly when his fingertips brush against your soft pubic hair. He doesn’t need more guidance than this; he knows what to do next.

“You still think I don’t find you sexy? Cause I really do.” You coo softly, leaning in to kiss him as his fingers tease your swollen nub.

Kento continues his ministrations, his own cock beginning to harden in his pants. It doesn’t take long before he’s sliding off the sweatpants he’s wearing to show you the hardened member that’s just begging to be sucked, kissed and stroked. You notice there’s a portion of his cock that’s thicker than the rest; it’s scar tissue. 

“I think my pretty husband needs some love, don’t you?” You tease him, getting ready to kneel before him. But he surprises you by grabbing you by the waist and pulling you onto his lap.

“Can’t wait, need you now,”

He lifts up your shirt and helps you out of it, tossing it to the corner of the room. He holds you up; the testament of his strength is still very apparent to you. Then with one quick thrust up into you, he’s balls deep inside. You’re both panting and moaning as your walls flutter around him.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking big,” you whine as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. You take no time to begin pressing kisses to the scarred skin there.

He chuckles, “Yeah? Feel good?”

You nod dumbly as he begins bouncing you on his cock, “Feels so fucking good.”

The feeling of your lips on his scarred skin makes him shudder. The sensations of your tight little cunt gripping on his dick make him grunt and growl; the feeling of possessiveness comes crashing over him,

“You’re all mine,” He grunts in your ear before nipping at the lobe. “Mine, all mine.”

You cling to him, your little hands holding onto him as he fucks himself up into you. Every thrust of his cock sends you closer and closer to the Earth-shattering orgasm you’re so desperate to feel.

He pulls you in for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. He knows his own orgasm is imminent, so he needs to work fast if he wants you to come undone along with him. His hand comes up to your mouth, and he shoves two of his fingers in.

“Wet those fingers, baby. Do it for me,”

You don’t even hesitate to begin sucking on his fingers. You moan around them, your tongue gliding over the long digits. Then he pulls them from your mouth, only to press them against your swollen nub that’s been begging for attention. Faster and faster he rocks his hips, his other hand steadying you by your hip. You’re moving in tandem as you work towards the same goal.

“Fuck I love you,” Kento pants. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for the shit I said…”

You kiss him lovingly, “I love you too. I forgive you.”

The coil in your stomach is tightening more and more, and soon it snaps. Stars dance in your vision as you cry out his name desperately. The pleasure builds more and more as your orgasm courses through your body. You can barely hold yourself up as it becomes a blinding heat in your body. Kento’s struggling to hold on, your gummy walls are just milking him for everything he’s got.

“Gonna…oh fuck! I’m gonna cum!” He growls, holding you down against him as he bucks his hips wildly.

Ropes of hot, thick cum begin to coat your insides and fill your waiting womb as Kento succumbs to the pleasure of his own release. He’s growling and grunting; words that are both possessive and sweet tumble from his soft lips. Then he slows himself, still holding you down against his body.

“My precious love,” he whispers softly. You slowly open your eyes. “I’m sorry I ever doubted your love. I’ll never think of it that way again. I’ll never take it for granted.”

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Zoro knows your father would never let him date you. That doesn't stop him from climbing through your window in the middle of the night.]

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The night is hot and humid but you feel unbelievably cold. Part of you wants to blame Roronoa Zoro for that state of things, although you know only your lovesick heart is to blame. Ever since you accidentally fell asleep against him while watching the stars, each night without him is a dread. The kingsize bed feels overwhelmingly big and empty, despite being the same bed you've been sleeping in your whole life.

You're sitting at your vanity, blindly staring at your reflection in the mirror, the activities of your nightly routine long forgotten. The nightgown you're wearing is so thin it's almost see-through and yet you still feel sweat running down your back. You've opened the window and unbuttoned half of the garment but it changed nothing. Monsoon season is truly uncomfortable.

"You look nice," a low voice speaks behind you.

Your blood runs cold as your heart halts for a moment. Quick enough to give yourself whiplash, you look over your shoulder at the unforeseen guest.

Zoro is sitting on your windowsill, back comfortably leaning against the window frame. His swords are propped up against the wall. It seems that he has been perched there for a while now, quietly watching you in your natural habitat. Beads of sweat on his forehead are glistening in the twilight of your candle-lit room. His hair, a deep shade of green, looks almost black in the darkness of the night. The intense look in his eyes makes you flustered, almost forcing you to look away. Still, something about his presence is so magnetic, you can't force your head away.

The initial dread of someone being in your room with you subsides but then another terror creeps in - the terror of someone stationed barely two rooms away. The very same man who sees anything pirate-related as problems that require violence as the solution. Even pirate hunters.

Nervously, you clench your hands into tight fists. "Do you have the slightest idea what my dad will do if he finds you here?" you hiss at Zoro, afraid that any sound would awaken your father.

The thought of 'You're worth it' is the first thing that crosses his mind. But no matter how true, Zoro can't find the courage to let such vulnerability be known.

"I don't care," he answers. Zoro gets up from the windowsill and lays in your bed with such casualness as though there is nothing out of the ordinary in his behaviour. Like he's not risking bodily harm to be within the confines of your bedroom.

You watch him in shock, eyes wide open. "He could come in at any moment, Zoro."

But he's just laying there, hands under his head as he's staring at you out of the corner of his eye. "Your old man's sleeping like a log," he states, uninterested.

The short moment of silence between you is filled with your father's muffled snoring. It's still a mystery to you how your mother can sleep with him in the same bed and wake up well-rested in the morning.

"Well, what if he wasn't?" you continue to argue but you already feel the need to do good by your father withdrawing, its place taken by something much more motivating and hard to explain. A calling, one might say.

"Just come here." Zoro motions at you.

Your flowy gown shuffles quietly as you get up from the chair by the vanity and gently lay on top of Zoro on your bed. As the familiar scent of wood, hay and metal hits your nostrils, you can feel all of your muscles immediately relax. All of the tension you carry in your shoulders and back is suddenly gone. In some unconscious reflex, one of his arms circles your waist, keeping you firmly in place. The strength of his hold couldn't be challenged even by a fatherly wrath.

Despite neither of you saying anything for a good moment, your bedroom is not filled with silence. Various sounds of the tropical island are pouring in through the open window: rustling bushes, laughter of late-night drinkers, cicadas, packs of stray dogs barking at each other in the distance. And, above all, the calming hum of the sea as its waves rhythmically wash the shore. The music of life as it follows its mundane, routine path.

"I can't sleep without you," you finally whisper against his firm chest.

"Me too," he admits quietly.

Although Zoro knows how ridiculous of a euphemism this really is, he never lets on. All of his waking hours are accompanied by thinking of you ('Are you safe? Are you alright? Do you miss him? Are you taking care of yourself? Do you ne-'). He's gone from taking multiple naps a day to barely one, only because he feels desperately uncomfortable sleeping alone as though his physiology knows that something important is missing. And when Zoro does finally fall asleep, you appear in his dreams. Sometimes he wakes up with the memory of your scent and touch lingering for a moment until he comes to his senses.

"Will you be here in the morning?" you ask hesitantly. It's selfish to ask Zoro to stick his neck out like that but at the same time, you desperately don't want this moment to end.

"Do you want me to?" he whispers.

As you nod, your cheek rubs against his chest.

You feel his chin resting on top of your head, further encircling you in a tight hold like a child who refuses to let go of their favourite toy. Perhaps Zoro is not the best with words but his actions tell you more than enough - if he could, he'd keep you close just like that until his last day. But knowing this moment ought to end in a few short hours, he wishes to memorize every detail of the way your body fits his.

That night Zoro wasn't sleeping in his own bed but still, he felt he was home.