#the one night I hoped to sleep at least somewhat okay

[hell1sme]

Today is the ski adventure day and Ive slept like pure garbage, I’m pretty sure I might die today

[moonstruckme]

hi maeeee!! can i request a poly! marauders where maybe reader is fighting with only one them and the others are shocked when they find out and try their very best to fix it even though things are quite tense? thanks maeeeee ilyyyy💐💐💐

Thanks for your patience with this one angel! It's not as angsty as I planned when I started writing it, but I hope you enjoy it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

It’s James who finds you this time. You’re curled up in a corner of the couch, pretending to read whilst secretly feeling sorry for yourself. Your boyfriend sits next to you, touching your shoulder so that you turn to him for a kiss. 

“Still upset?” he asks after a peck. 

You ignore the complicated, knotty feeling that makes itself known in your chest. “Not at you.” 

“No, I know.” James smiles a little, gifting you another kiss. “I’d be coming in here with my tail between my legs if you were. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of either you or Rem’s wrath.” 

You stay quiet. You wouldn’t go so far as to call what you’re feeling wrath—that seems a tad dramatic to describe the low flame of vexation you’ve been burning for your tallest boyfriend—but you don’t feel like opening yourself up to the subject with James. You’ve already heard it from Sirius this morning. 

“Angel.” James gives your shoulder a cajoling squeeze. “Come on, when are the two of you going to get past this? It’s very awkward sleeping in the same bed with two people who are quarreling, you know.” 

“We sleep exactly the same as every other night.” 

“There’s underlying tension,” he counters lightly. You roll your eyes, and James laughs. “Oi, don’t get cross with me now, too. I’m just telling you about my lived experience.” He leans his head on your shoulder, all sweetness and treachery. “You’re really not gonna forgive him? You know he’s gonna stick you with Sirius in the divorce.” 

You huff a laugh. James grins up at you hopefully. You know there’s some sense to what he’s saying; one of you has to be the bigger person eventually. It had started small, a stupid disagreement, but you and Remus are each stubborn and petty enough to not want to admit where you were wrong. Now you’re more angry with him for being angry with you than for anything else. 

When you think of his coldness to you—never mind the fact that you’ve been cold to him in turn—that flame of vexation burns a little brighter. 

“I don’t know why you’re over here trying to convince me,” you tell James. “I won’t have any problem forgiving him if he actually apologizes.” 

James sighs. You look down at your book to avoid his disappointment. 

“Okay, then. But he does feel really bad, so you know. He’s in the bedroom with one of his headaches, and he asked if you were still upset with him.” You look up. James levels you with a weighted look. “Could probably really use a cuddle, if you two were on good terms.” 

James is at least only somewhat smug when you abandon your book to go to the bedroom. You pass Sirius in the hall, who gives you a smile and a firm peck on the lips, likely having just left Remus himself. You enter the bedroom expecting to see the curtains drawn, lights off, and your poorly boyfriend in bed, but instead Remus is standing, well lit by the daylight streaming in through the windows, book tented on the bed still made from this morning. He appears as though he was just on his way out. 

“Erm, hi,” he says, brows pulled together in the middle. He looks to be studying you. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” you answer, bemused. “Are…are you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The door clicks shut behind you. You startle at the sound, not having closed it yourself. Then, you watch as a resigned sort of irritation comes over Remus’ features at the same time as it settles into you. 

“Pricks.” He moves past you to the door, jiggling the handle. “It only locks from the inside, you twats.” 

“Love you too,” comes Sirius’ voice. “You can come out after you kiss and make up.” 

“And say you’re sorry!” adds James. 

Remus scowls. 

“Open it,” you tell him. 

“What do you think I’m trying to do? One of them is holding it shut.” 

“Let me try.” 

“Be my guest.” Remus steps back, letting you have a go at the handle. By putting everything you have into it you manage to twist it, but you can’t get it open even an inch. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, gorgeous.” Sirius sounds smug enough to make your face feel hot. “James is holding it on the other side here, a few more minutes and you’ll make him break a sweat.” 

You let go of the handle with a huff, turning and stalking towards the bedroom window. You start moving the desk out of your way. 

“Would you really rather climb out the window than be in a room with me?” asks Remus. You look over your shoulder, and he’s sitting on the bed, side-eyeing you with his back propped against the pillows. 

“It’s not about you.” You shove your hip into the desk, budging it enough for you to get at the window latch. “They lied and made me feel all guilty just so they could lock us in here.” 

“What’d they tell you?”

You try to get your fingernail behind the latch. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Sirius had me thinking you were quite upset.” 

“Yeah, and probably that I was asking after you, right? James told me you had a bad headache.” 

A chuckle. “That was enough to make you come in here looking so flustered?” 

“My mistake,” you huff, but it turns to a short whimper when your nail breaks. “Christ, you’d think they’d make these easier to open. What if there was a fire?” 

“Don’t go out the window,” Remus says calmly. “You’ll ruin your tights.” 

You work another nail behind the latch. “I can’t just let them win.” 

“Mm. That’s a bit of a problem for you, is it?” 

A bitter coolness settles over you. You turn, crossing your arms. “Something to say?” 

Remus picks up his book, cornering a page. “Just making an observation, is all.” 

“Remus,” you say sternly. “Don’t act like you’re any better. You could’ve apologized at any time.” 

Your boyfriend levels you with a look. “Would that really have made a difference?”

“Yes!” 

“Honestly?” He looks like he doesn’t believe you. “All I have to do is say I’m sorry, and you’ll forget about all of this and be completely happy with me?” 

You shake your head, bewildered. “…Yeah. I mean, I would want to know that you understood how you hurt my feelings, but yeah. Really, it’s not that complicated.” 

Remus’ expression softens. “I do understand that, dove. Do you understand how you hurt mine?” 

“I…” You find you can’t quite look at him. “I imagine it’s sort of similar. Because I’ve been cold to you.” 

“And because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says. It doesn’t sound like I told you so, not smug so much as gentle. “But it was a small thing to begin with, wasn’t it? I’m ready to be past it.” 

You frown at him. “It’s not about the argument for me. I’m already past that, it’s just everything else.” 

Remus considers you. “Would you come here, please?” 

You swear you wouldn’t go if he didn’t sound so kind. But you find yourself with your legs curled underneath you on the bed in front of him, Remus coaxing your hands into his. 

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes. “It was a silly argument, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, sizing up whether he means it. “I…also could have been less stubborn,” you admit begrudgingly. Your tone softens. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, too. I didn’t mean to.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” Remus’ touch coasts from your hands up your arms as he pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. “Are we okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, mollified. 

He smiles at you. “Hear that?” he says towards the door. “You can let us out now.” 

There’s no response. 

Remus frowns as you get out of bed, going to try the handle. The door comes open, revealing and empty hallway. 

“Pricks,” Remus mutters. 

You find your boyfriends in the living room, James flicking through channels on the telly while Sirius reads the back cover of your book. James notices you first. 

“Oh, hello.” He grins at you as Sirius looks over. “All sorted, then?” 

You’re half tempted to pretend you didn’t make up just to spite them. When you look over at Remus, you suspect he’s thinking the same thing. 

“That was sort of mean, lying to me like that,” you say to James instead. 

He looks a bit contrite, but Sirius says insouciantly, “You were never gonna do it by yourselves, babe. We weren’t ready to start divvying up the furniture because you wanted to have a row.” 

You kiss your teeth. “I think I might be having a row with you now.” 

“What, us?” James’ eyebrows rise above the frames of his glasses. “What for?” 

“You lied to us both to make us feel bad,” Remus reminds him, “and then locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius isn’t impressed. “Well, it wasn’t really locked, was it. If you’d gotten desperate, you could’ve taken it off the hinges. Or just checked again after a couple minutes.” 

“She broke her nail trying to get the window open.” 

You hold up your torn fingernail as proof. Sirius coos, reaching for your finger and bringing it to his lips while you scowl at him. 

“Sorry, lovie. We had a plan to bring you food in a couple hours,” says James. “We were even going to let you out for bathroom breaks if you needed to go.” 

“Really, you wrapped it up much quicker than we were expecting,” Sirius praises. He’s still holding your finger, drawing his thumb up and down the side in easy, consoling strokes. “We thought you’d ice each other out until supper at least. I’m quite proud of you.” 

Remus scoffs. 

“Oh, come now.” Sirius grins. “Give us a kiss.” 

You roll your eyes but turn to Remus, extricating your finger from Sirius’ grasp to meet him in a chaste kiss. 

The other boys cheer. “There we are!” James tilts his face up expectantly. “Now one for me.” 

You and Remus exchange a look. 

“No,” you say coolly, “I don’t think so.” The two of you go to sit on the far side of the couch, away from both Sirius and James with you curled against Remus’ side. He looks a tad smug as he puts his arm around you. 

“Oi!” says Sirius. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made James pull his sad puppy face. What do you have to say for yourselves?” 

“You lied to us,” you say again, slowly, with emphasis, “and locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius scoffs. “So dramatic.” 

“Oh, that’s rich.” 

“Will it help if we say sorry?” James asks meekly. 

Remus looks at you. You shrug. 

“Maybe,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to try and find out.”

[retrobutterflies]

Nectar | billie eilish

Billie Eilish x Female!Reader

Summary: You both admit the extent of your feelings between soft teasing and pretty kisses.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Sickening, cotton candy fluff

Part I

A/N: A silly little addendum to Ambrosia.

“You look tired.” 

It took you a moment to acknowledge her words, her voice a low melody, lips brushing the curve of your ear. Your eyes had been blinking slowly, feeling the weight of sleep lulling at you for the past half hour but you were fighting to keep them open, determined not to let yourself fall asleep for fear that you would wake up and realize it had all been some sort of cruel dream. 

“I can stay up,” you replied, swallowing back a yawn that was creeping up your throat. 

Her eyes narrowed at you, scanning around your face. The room was dim, the only light coming from your desk lamp and the moonlight seeping in through the window but her eyes had no trouble admiring the contours of your face.

“Your eyes are drooping,” she said, the corners of her mouth ticking up in amusement as a pout formed on your lips.

“My eyes don’t droop,” you argued, meeting her gaze. 

“No?” Her smirk widened. 

She reached her hand up to smooth her thumb between your eyebrows, dragging over your brow bone and then the other one, melting away the tension that lingered on your face. You hummed, eyes fluttering closed at the affection. She let out a soft chuckle before you felt her lips press softly into the plush of your cheek.

“Come on, at least let’s get ready for bed?” she suggested and you opened your eyes to see hers still analyzing your face, her desire to care for you seeming more and more blatant that you were surprised you hadn’t noticed it before.

With a conceding nod, she shifted you softly off of her, standing up and pulling you up along with her. She went to rummage in your dresser for something to sleep in and you opened your door to peak out into the hallway to see if the bathroom was free. You heard your roommate shout in fear as a scream erupted distantly from the TV and you grimaced at the sudden noise puncturing the bubble of peace you had created in your room.

You turned to see Billie already moving to pull her shirt off and you turned back around quickly, shutting the door.

“You didn’t want to give me a warning?” You huffed, embarrassment seeping into you. You had seen her in a bathing suit before and on those sweltering summer nights where wearing anything more than shorts and a cami was too hot, but for some reason seeing a sliver of her torso now in the soft glow of your bedside lamp was enough to make a ferocious blush arise on your cheeks.

“I can give you a show if you want,” she bit back and you could hear the grin in her voice.

“Billie,” you whined, somewhat breathless, fighting the urge to turn around and glare at her. She let out a laugh.

“Okay, I’m done,” she said. You turned around and felt your heart squeeze.

Black sweatpants that pooled by her ankles and a large dark T-shirt that practically engulfed her whole. They were her clothes that she had left there, kept there for when she usually stayed over, and they stayed in the designated drawer of your dresser that only she was allowed to use. And you felt the soft creep of a blush crawl up your neck at the sight of her and the fact that you really couldn’t believe how blind you had been. 

“What?” she asked, her voice breaking you from your spell and you hoped she couldn’t see how hot your cheeks suddenly felt.

“Nothing,” you said back, a hint too quickly. She was already smirking again, her eyes charged with delight and mirth and a third emotion you couldn’t find the words to describe.

You opened up the top drawer of your dresser to pull out your own clothes but you could feel her heavy gaze on the side of your face. You turned to face her, clothes bunched in your hands, flush rising on your cheeks.

“I need to change,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek as you met her eyes.

She quirked an eyebrow, sly smile pulling at her pink lips.

“Do I have to turn around?” she asked and you felt silly with how bashful you suddenly felt even though barely a few minutes ago you were all over her.

“Yes,” you replied and she scrunched up her nose.

“Why?” She was practically pouting and you were starting to grow worried at how the rest of the night would go if every little thing she did had your insides setting ablaze. “We’ve always changed in front of each other.”

“Because it’s different now,” you said and she couldn’t hold back the playful roll of her eyes.

“Why, because I’m your girlfriend?” she said and you felt the wind get knocked out of your chest for a moment.

Girlfriend? Were you girlfriends now? It hadn’t even crossed your mind that this was the next step. You had just assumed after your month of panic and self-isolation that she would reject you once she finally realized why you had been acting so strange. It hadn’t crossed your mind that she would reciprocate your feelings and then want to turn your friendship into something more. 

“Are you?” you breathed, blinking owlishly at her. She blinked back at you and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Well we just confessed our love for each other . . .” she trailed off, as if suddenly realizing she might’ve jumped the gun. 

“I mean, if you’re not comfortable I totally understand. Sorry, I just, my mind is kinda moving a mile a minute right now,” she let out a sheepish laugh, moving her hand up to rub the side of her face.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “That was fast. I wasn’t even thinking,” her words were quick, mashed together in a mix of embarrassment and panic. 

“We can just, um, see how it goes?” she winced at her own words, looking like she regretted them instantly. Her hand moved over her jaw and she let out a quiet exhale of frustration.

You didn’t mean to be silent for so long or make her squirm but you were taken aback. Billie had been your friend for years. You had watched her date and fall in love and break up and mess around and date again. It was nearly impossible for people around her not to fall in love with her. But you? Billie dating you? Wanting to date you? Wanting to stop dating other people?

“I thought . . .” you struggled to find the words, “you didn’t want a serious relationship anymore?”

She grimaced at your words, her tongue poking the side of her cheek as she stared at you. She nodded and then dropped her head into her hands, groaning as she rubbed her palms into her eyes.

“That’s because you guys kept trying to set me up with people,” she confessed. She pulled her face back up, nose scrunched.

“Oh,” you murmured, eyebrows pulling together, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . .” you trailed off.

She looked up at you, meeting your eyes and let out a sigh.

“No, it’s not–You didn’t do anything wrong,” she puffed out her cheeks that were starting to color a soft rose. She let out another sigh.

“It’s just, I didn’t want to date anyone–,” she started, her eyes now holding yours. The light of the moon was shining through the window, illuminating her eyes so they flashed a cold azure. You could feel her unsaid words in the air, your breath stalling in your chest as you waited for her to continue, “except you.”

She had already confessed to loving you when she couldn’t bare to separate her lips from yours but hearing this confession, the depth of her admiration, had your insides swirling.

“You stopped dating . . . because of me?” you asked, wide eyed as you stared at her.

“Yeah,” she let out a sheepish chuckle, “I mean, I tried to get over you. But you kinda . . . messed me up.”

“I messed you up?” you gasped, an airy, incredulous laugh leaving your lips as you blinked at her.

“Dude, I literally–,” she let out another groan, rubbing her face again, “You don’t get it. I’m literally so obsessed with you I couldn’t even pretend to like someone else.”

“You’re kidding,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face as you gaped at her.

“I wish I was,” she huffed.

“No, wait, because what about a couple of weeks ago, at that party on Sinclair? You left with that girl?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes at her.

“What girl?” she cocked her head.

“The one with the long dark hair and she had that cool new Coach bag I’ve been wanting and she was flirting with you all night and you seemed more than happy flirting back and then you left together. I watched you,” you said, moving your arms to cross over your chest. 

She blinked at you. Then she let out a musical laugh.

“Jordan?” she questioned, incredulously. 

“I don’t need to know her name,” you huffed, wrinkling your nose at her. She laughed again, taking a step closer to you. 

“Oh my god, you’re insane,” she muttered, but her lips were pulling into a grin and she seemed pleased at the sudden jealousy radiating off of you.

“Wow, you really know how to compliment a girl,” you snipped back and she laughed again, stepping closer until you could smell the soft swirls of her perfume.

“It’s because you are. You’re so out of touch from reality I’m genuinely shocked,” she said and you gasped at her.

“You are digging yourself a hole,” you grumbled, glaring at her grinning face but she persisted.

“Jordan is a friend who is straight and has a boyfriend,” she emphasized for good measure, “And she was giving me advice about you because you were ignoring me.”

You stared at her, mulling over her words and trying to reel in your jealousy but your mind flashed back to that party and Jordan putting her hand on Billie’s arm as she led them out of the door. 

“But you left with her.”

“No, her boyfriend and some of his friends were hanging outside so we went to get some fresh air. I never left. But when I came back in, you, however, did.”

You winced at her words. You had left shortly after that because the thought of Billie bringing another girl home made you feel so nauseous you thought you were going to puke all over that 2000s Tuscan kitchen.

“Oh,” you mumbled, “I didn’t realize.”

“You were jealous,” she said, almost gleefully, her smirk deepening.

You rolled your eyes, trying to stop the smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“Hardly,” you replied, tasting the lie on your tongue. She grinned further.

“You’re practically green,” she said and stepped close enough that you could lightly swat her arm.

“Stop,” you groaned, moving your hands to cover your face. She reached her hands out to wrap them around your wrists, softly tugging them away from your face.

“You look like the Grinch,” she added.

“Billie!”

Before you could protest further, her lips were on yours, soft and warm. Her hands were wrapped around your wrists, tugging them into her chest so she could pull you closer. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let out a dazed breath in between her ardent kisses. Your body relaxed, leaning into her touch, soaking in her affection like a flower to the sun. She smiled against your lips and then she pulled back to admire your flushed face, biting her lower lip as her eyes darted around your face.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” she mused, her words soothing her earlier teasing. “But you have no reason to be. I promise.”

You hummed in response, eyes flickering back to her lips before you were leaning in again. She kissed you back eagerly, hands moving from your wrists to wrap around your back, tugging you in closer. Your arms snaked around her neck, leaning your weight into her. Her lips were inebriating, moving against yours in a delicate dance that had your head feeling like TV static. One of your hands burrowed in her hair, silky strands curling around your fingers. She sighed in contentment, her breath fanning over your face, catching your lips quickly again like you would disappear if she wasn’t careful.

Slowly, your kisses softened, each one dragging out longer and longer until you were both catching your breath and she was pressing her forehead against yours.

“I would though,” she said, her voice rasping as she broke the silence, “like you to be my girlfriend. If you want.”

Your cheeks burned like fire and your stomach felt like a butterfly vivarium. You moved your hand up to cup her cheek, pulling away so you could look at her properly. Your eyes flickered between hers, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability reflecting in her glass eyes. 

“I would like that too,” you murmured. She pressed her cheek into your hand before turning her head to touch her lips to your palm.

You stayed like that for a moment, soaking in the fresh feelings, her eyes holding yours before she was leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then another, and then eight more until she was content. And you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face even if you tried.

It took everything in you to separate from her but you could see her eyes now starting to blink sleepily at you and you knew after your emotional evening you were both close to crashing.

You went to the bathroom to change your clothes, hurrying through your night routine. When you returned to the room, she was stretched on your bed, hair dangling off the side as she stared up at the ceiling seemingly lost in thought. Your heart squeezed at the sight. You had missed her making herself comfortable in your room like it was her second home. It had been painful not having her here and pretending like you were okay without her but seeing her there, as if the past month hadn’t happened, made you feel a sense of relief you didn’t realize you needed.

When she noticed you were done, she pulled herself off the bed and took a few steps towards you. She gave you a sleepy smile and pressed another few kisses to your cheek before she slipped by to the bathroom.

You sunk down onto the mattress, slipping under your comforter and resting your head against your pillow. Your eyes strayed to the other side of the bed. Billie had spent many nights there, sleeping next to you. A few times you had woken up closer than you had fallen asleep. And you used to think that your desire to scoot closer to her on the bed, feel some part of her touching you before you slept, was nothing more than your platonic love for her. But now, sifting back through those memories, you knew it had always been different. Everything had been different with her. 

None of your friends were allowed to cuddle up to you like she was. None of them could be as touchy or affectionate as she was. Only she could call you silly pet names or lean her full body weight on to you while watching a movie or have designated closet space in your room. You realized now that you had had feelings for her for so much longer than you let yourself know and now after experiencing her unfiltered affection for you, you couldn’t believe you had waited this long to face it.

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice was soft, breaking you out of your thoughts. She had already turned the lamp off and shut the door and was slipping into the bed next to you. You hadn’t even heard her come in.

“You,” you confessed, feeling little desire to conceal the last bits of your feelings. Tonight had been the night to lay everything out on the table.

“Oh really?” she mused, shuffling close so her face rested on the part of her pillow that was closest to yours.

You turned on your side to face her, tugging the covers up the both of you. She was fresh faced now, her skin rosy from the cold water she always used to wash her skin, plush from your moisturizer that she liked to steel that you started buying two of each time just for her. 

She reached out her hand to brush your hair back from your face, her nails lightly dragging on your skin and into your scalp, leaving a trail of tingles. 

“Just how,” you shuffled a touch closer to her until you could feel her chest touch yours and you could feel the warmth of her breath graze your lips, “I’ve had feelings for you longer than I realized.”

“Yeah?” she hummed, her eyes hooded as she stared at you, her other hand finding yours under the sheets and linking your fingers together. “How long?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, eyes blinking slowly at her, lulled by her soft touches and sleepy gaze. “But I think a really long time.”

She stared at you for a long moment, silent but continuing to stroke the side of your head. You wanted to know what she was thinking. You could see the thoughts whirring behind her eyes.

“I know when I realized,” she finally said, puncturing the silence. You squeezed her hand.

“When?” you asked.

She smiled at you, so softly you felt yourself turn nearly liquid under her gaze. Her eyes flickered to your lips but she stayed where she was, as if she was resisting the temptation so she could continue.

“Three years ago,” she said, eyes flickering back up to yours, “When we went to that diner at 1am and it was just the two of us. I don’t know what it was but something just clicked that night and I couldn’t see you any differently anymore.”

Her confession hung in the air and you let out a sigh, the words causing your heart to squeeze.

“That long?” you asked, an uncomfortable feeling settling low in your chest.

“Yeah,” she breathed and you wondered for a moment if she was nervous admitting it, like she hadn’t admitted it to anyone before.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize,” you murmured, a frown forming on your face. She moved her hand to swipe away the tension forming between your eyebrows.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she replied, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. “It not hard to fall in love with you.”

“But you had to hide it for this long,” you retorted, unable to stop your frown as you thought about how long she had to go acting like everything was normal when you cracked in a month.

“I wasn’t hiding it very well. I think you’re just unobservant,” she said and you let out a soft laugh at her words. 

Looking back, you realized she was right. As much as she got preferential treatment from you, you got the same from her. You were the only one she let drive her car. Only you were ever allowed to do her makeup or her skincare. Every night out she was always checking in on you and only you, making sure you were feeling well, staying sober enough to always drive you home. And only you were allowed to cross into her personal space, hug her, lay on her, or cuddle up to her in bed.

“I’m really dumb, aren’t I?” you muttered, feeling heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

She laughed, her hand moving to cup the back of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw.

“Yeah,” she affirmed and you tried to glare at her but your lips were ticking up at the sides in a smile. 

You were quiet for another breath, feeling her leg brush up against yours. 

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” you finally asked the question that had been hanging over your head.

She stared at you, face contemplative as if she wasn’t even sure she knew the answer. Her hand found a loose strand of your hair and she brushed it through her fingers, coiling it around her pointer finger, tugging on it and then letting it loosen. She used to hesitate before she would touch you, like she had to be strategic about showing glimpses of affection, but now she was being open with her fondness, seeming to take any chance she could to touch you or kiss you or stare at you unabashed.

“I’m not sure,” she finally admitted, curling the hair back behind your ear. She let out a soft sigh, letting her thumb graze the softness of your cheek.

“There were times that I wanted to. And times I got really close,” she breathed into the quiet of the room, her voice soft and honeyed and layered with buried emotion.

“But I always got too scared. Or something would get in the way. Or I just found an excuse because . . .” She didn’t finish her sentence but you knew what she was going to say. Because you would’ve rejected her.

Your heart clenched at the thought. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done had she confessed her feelings for you before you realized your own. It might’ve affected your friendship, which would’ve torn you both apart or it might’ve made you confront your feelings much quicker, avoiding this last painful month.

“But I was okay with just staying your friend. I just wanted you in my life somehow,” she confessed, a melancholic smile pulling at her lips.

“Even when I was seeing other people?” She grimaced at the thought but gave a small nod. 

“I mean, I didn’t love it. But I wanted you to be happy. I was gonna take whatever you were willing to give me.”

You felt your eyes start to sting, overwhelmed by the sudden flush of emotions at her words. 

“Are you crying again?” she breathed, surprise woven together with concern. 

“No, just, that was so sweet. I–,” you lost your words, moving to wipe the sudden tears threatening to spill from your lashes.

She let out a melodic laugh, moving her hand to cup the back of your head and pulling you in closer so she could press her lips to your cheek. You tilted your head and she took the hint to press her lips delicately against yours.

Her kiss tasted like mint and you could smell the jasmine moisturizer on her skin. Her hand trailed from your neck down over the curve of your hip until she was tugging you ever closer, urging your leg to drape over her side, her leg fitting seamlessly in between yours. For a fleeting moment when her lips strayed from yours to find the velvet juncture of your neck, you wondered if this was going too quickly, if the awkwardness of the unknown and freshness of your relationship would catch up with you but then her mouth found a sweet spot below your jaw and your head quieted down to a pleasant buzz.

“No more tears tonight,” she murmured against your skin, dragging the edge of her canines over goose bumped skin, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest.

Her hand pressed into the small of your back to urge you even closer, getting rid of any space left that had lingered between you. You barely had time to feel anxious at these new sensations, her lips tracing your neck like a map.

“I would’ve waited even longer for you so stop worrying about it,” she mumbled, pulling back for a brief moment to gaze at you through half-lidded ocean eyes.

Your heart was so beating rapidly in your chest you wondered if she had felt your pulse against her lips.

“I don’t worry,” you quipped, voice breathy and face hot.

“No?” Her eyebrows quirked and a sly smile tugged at her lips.

“Never,” you replied, swallowing hard as you felt your insides swim and flip at her heavy gaze.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, biting down on her lower lip, her eyes flickering back to yours. “If you say so.”

You would’ve retorted, another teasing comment or sarcastic quip to ease the feeling of anticipation growing in your stomach, but her lips had found yours again and you couldn’t remember much past that.

billie masterlist ✩

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

-

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

-

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

[nanaooyoo]

nct haechan smut

request for anon: “Can I please request mean dom hyuck (like instead of downright degrading he's more into mocking and like having an aura that's intimidating/god complex 😭?) × reader that's really desperate and goes into subspace at like anything he does.” Hope you like it. Anyways enjoy✨

warnings/headsup: dom!hyuck • sub!reader • 5.4k words • fem reader • female anatomy • penetrative sex • biting • brief oral sex • fuckboy-ish haechan • light proofread • a bit rushed

Rain Check: Haechan x Reader pt.I/I

“You might as well just stay over” he said, walking over to you and removing your coat.

The sound of heavy rain and falling tree branches hitting the windows and doors was enough to give you pause. If you covered your head and ran down to the parking lot you could probably make it to your car without getting pneumonia. If you stayed, well then… you’d just end up in Haechan’s bed. Every second you spent thinking, the weather got worse. Not that it really mattered what you thought anyways, it seemed that he had already decided for you. He too knew what staying meant… that’s why he had suggested it in the first place.

“C’mon I’ll get you some clothes and stuff, it’ll be like a sleepover.” He motioned over to his bedroom after haphazardly draping your coat across a chair in the living room.

“Is that really okay?” You asked, folding your hands together and cracking your knuckles awkwardly. “I mean it’s only our first date…”

“So? Who cares?” He laughed. “It’s not like I’m going to murder you.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of…” you whispered under your breath, but still willingly following him against your better judgement. In your gut you felt like this was a bad idea, but in your head you could already feel what it might be like to have Haechan’s body pressed against yours. In fact, you had been feeling that feeling all night. You felt it when he had first texted you, you felt it on the drive over, you felt it the very moment he opened the door and you saw just how good-looking he was in person.

You thought it was bit sleazy for a guy to invite you over to his place before ever actually meeting you in the flesh, the implication didn’t initially sit right with you… but Haechan was hot, and he was single, and he had his own place… so who were you to say no, who were you to pass up on such an opportunity, and forgo his simple request?

“Here.” He said, tossing you a wrinkled t-shirt and a pair of his old basketball shorts.

You were never the athletic type, but you still managed to catch the garments thrown your way and bunch them in your hands nervously. You looked around his room for a bit wondering if he really expected you to just put on his clothes and then… sleep in his bed? With him?

Haechan leaned against his dresser and looked you up and down with a wry smile and a wild glint in his eye. “Aren’t you going to change?”

“Not in front of you!” You said, clutching his clothes close to your chest.

He huffed. “Why not?”

“Because-” you stuttered “-I just met you, I don’t even know you like that…”

“Like what?” Haechan tapped his fingers against the top of his dresser. You could see just about every single one of his pearly white teeth as he continued to smile at you. Like a mischievous Cheshire Cat stalking you in the dim lighting of his room, he eyed you expectantly.

His smile was taunting yet reassuring. His confidence solidified what you had already understood to be the unspoken agreement of this ‘date’. He only really wanted one thing… and so did you. It was somewhat comforting to know that your fear of seeming easy didn’t really matter when he wasn’t particularly hard (at least not yet).

“Do you want to know me like that?” He asked, walking over to you tentatively, each step slower than the last. He stopped in front of you, looking down into your eyes with a gaze full of subtle devilish glee, pushing a bit of hair out of your face and humming quietly.

You looked up at him with eyes that communicated much more than words ever could, and before you could even think of a quippy response he was already kissing you. The touch of Haechan’s hands were rough but not entirely calloused as he hastily grabbed at both sides of your face. His palms were ice cold against the hot skin of your cheeks. He kissed you fast and he kissed you hard, teeth knocking against teeth and tongue wasting no time in finding its way into your mouth. He was reckless to say the least, and almost completely uninterested in anything that would prevent him from getting exactly what he wanted, exactly when he wanted it.

The way he made you strain your neck by pushing your head further back than it actually needed to be, told you exactly what kind of guy he was. You pressed your hands against his chest and grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, silently begging him to give you a moment of respite, just one second to come up for air… but he was already knocking the clothes he had given you out of your hands and nudging you towards the bed.

“Hae-“ you tried to get out, but he pressed a finger to your lips and pushed your shoulders down so that you were sitting on the covers before him.

“Shh” he said, and you scoffed at his unwillingness to even pretend he didn’t have complete control over the situation.

You crossed your arms in minor annoyance as you sat there waiting for what he might do next.

He leaned down over you with a cocky expression that made you swallow hard, a mix of cortisol driven anxiety and pure joyous adrenaline rushing through you. You weren’t scared, you weren’t nervous, you were anything but… but the expression that was plastered on your face made you look like a mouse centimeters away from being engulfed by the jaws of a lion; and Haechan loved every second of it. “Do you still want to go home?” He chuckled.

You shook your head.

“Then say it.”

“I don’t want to go home…” you replied through gritted teeth.

He nodded approvingly. “Alright then.” Haechan leaned down slowly, placing his hands at either side before kneeling on the bed and silently urging you to scoot backwards.

You laid back and propped yourself up with your elbows as you watched him. Your eyes scanned him meticulously, starting at the top of his head and working their way down. You could hear his satisfied chuckle when your eyes stopped at the waistline of his pants and landed on the buckle of his belt. You hesitantly began to raise one of your hands as he knelt there still and domineering.

He waited until you were close enough to just about touch him before he grabbed your wrist with ease. “What makes you think you can do things without asking?” His voice was serious and gruff but his face was playful and inviting.

You wished in this moment that you could read his mind, it was as if he was testing you. Challenging you to try things just so he could shut them down and revel in your confusion. You felt like you were playing a game that he had invented, of which he refused to tell you the rules, and slowly but surely you would have to discover what the real objective was on your own. “Sorry” you choked.

“I don’t think you mean it…” He grinned and raised your hand above your head pinning your wrist to the bed. He kissed you again, this time with more fervor. Practically swallowing your bottom lip, he bit and gnawed at you like a cat toying with its prey before putting it out of its misery. You were surprised he didn’t draw blood with the way he sunk his teeth into you like he hadn’t eaten in days. It was almost impressive how he could squeeze your wrist just enough to elicit the semblance of pain without fully hurting you. You knew that Haechan probably didn’t have much trouble with girls but now you could absolutely tell why. You could tell that he was cocky not because he had a false sense of grandeur, but because he had proven many times before that he was well worth the conceit.

Even with his eyes closed he seemed to be able to sense every single one of your movements. Before you could even fully think to use your other hand to touch him, to be felt rather than to only feel (however good it was) he was pinning down your other wrist. You writhed under him, squirming in desperation to just run your fingers through his hair or down his back just once… but with every struggle, every groan and whine, he became stricter. The more you showed that you wanted him, the less of himself he wanted to give.

You just couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t play the same game he was playing. You could only lay there and hope that he would so much as grant you the privilege of making him feel something, anything.

When he finally did pull back, he only scoffed at how innocently you regarded him. “You any good at following directions?” He smirked.

You were sure that ultimately this was a bit of a rhetorical question, but no matter how asinine the observation, how humiliating the request, Haechan always expected an answer… and he expected a good one.

You nodded, but that must not have been good enough.

He leaned down again and you felt like time had slowed. Every second that he took getting closer to you made your heart beat faster. “Use your words sweetheart.” He said spewing hot sweet breath against your visage, and cupping your face firmly with one hand.

“I’m good at following directions…” you said meekly. You felt like you were in school again being scolded by a teacher for not formulating your test answers into complete sentences.

“Good.” He said, and in a unique moment of tenderness he kissed your cheek. It was soft and slow, and it was out of nowhere.

Somehow this little moment of gentility made you anticipate just how much rougher he could be. A kiss on the cheek and a sweet pet name from a guy like Haechan was always a red herring, especially after you had just admitted to him that you were willing to listen to direct instruction. You could have taken a moment to be defiant, to see what his limits were, but his strong grip and glittery eyes subdued you. His deceptively cute features and gleeful voice were nothing but bait to reel you in.

“We’re switching places” he said. “Come here.” Haechan turned around and sat at the edge of his bed. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor while waiting for you to make your way over. “Kneel down.”

You did as told and knelt down on the plush carpet of his room. You felt slightly degraded, like a dog that listens to commands in the hopes that they might get a treat in return. Haechan leaned back and parted his legs wide as you placed your hands on your thighs.

He looked at you through half lidded eyes, cocking his head to the side and moving a hand to cup one side of your face. “So you really are good with directions.” He smirked. Running his thumb across your cheek and down to your lips, he huffed in amusement watching you wince slightly as his finger touched the more delicate parts of your lips where he had left little red marks. “Did I hurt you?” He pouted facetiously, pressing his thumb down harder. “You can be honest”.

You gulped. “Y-yeah a little.”

Your small confession made him grin ear to ear. “I’ll tell you what. You do something for me sweetheart, and I’ll make it up to you.” Haechan reached down, taking one of your hands in his and placed it on the silver buckle of his belt. He didn’t even try to hide the egotistical smirk that washed across his face the minute he saw your pupils double in size as your hand grazed the bulge forming in his pants. “You’re cute you know that?” He said, watching you bite the inside of your cheek and swallow in a desperate attempt to hide your embarrassment.

Your eyes scanned the room wildly, trying to look anywhere but at the person in front of you.

“You too scared to make eye contact?”

“No.” You retorted.

Haechan scoffed and then paused for a moment before erupting into a fit of laughter. When you finally did look back up at him you had to just sit there and watch silently as he dabbed at the corners of his eyes. He had to take a moment to hold his stomach and steady himself from just how amusing he found your weak attempts at hiding the truth. “Are you always this pathetic or is it just cause you’re with me?” He snickered.

Normally you would roll your eyes and put an over confident man like that in his place but when it came to him you just couldn’t. On some level you had to admit that he was right. His mocking didn’t deter you, it only made you vie for his approval more, it made you want to feel what all the suspense was leading up to.

Haechan’s hands grabbed your wrists once more. He raised them up, lacing your fingers together and bringing them to his waist. Watching the way your fingers trembled slightly and your knuckles tensed as soon as they came into contact with the smooth metal of his belt buckle made him chuckle affectionately.

“Relax.” He said it softly, but you still felt a visceral internal obligation to comply as if it were a stern command. You felt like if you showed even an ounce of trepidation he’d want to forget the whole thing and move onto someone else who was much more sure of themselves.

Your hands fidgeted with his belt like this had been the first time you’d ever done something like this before. Your mind was focused on too many things at once, and struggling to align its priorities. On one hand you wanted to please him, to impress him, to show that you weren’t as meek and mild as you seemed in this very moment. On the other hand, you were so turned on your brain just short-circuited and the worsening weather outside didn’t help. It was like you were looking at a foreign object and had completely forgotten just how simple it was to take a guys pants off. You couldn’t bear to look at him, you couldn’t bear to see the look of sheer disappointment that must have adorned his face.

“Here let me help you…” Haechan laughed again, but this time with more sympathy rather than pity in his tone. He clasped your hands in his, as you looked straight ahead, ogling his long slender fingers that engulfed yours as he guided them past his belt and his pants and into the waistband of his boxers. His thumbs rubbed the pads of your finger as he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips, kissing your palm softly as the other plunged into the heat between his legs. Haechan’s groans were low and drawn out as you finally seemed to regain consciousness and remember what you were doing and where you were.

You bit your lip tentatively as Haechan let out sparse and quiet grumbling moans into your hand, pressing it to his face and gripping your wrist tightly as your other hand slid down further, slowly making its way to the head of his dick. You could feel him getting harder with every languid stroke of his shaft and you could hear him getting impatient with every intermittent scoff. You let Haechan give your hand another soft kiss before kneeling closer to the edge of the bed. Gently biting the side of your hand closest to his mouth before letting it go, he adjusted himself so that you could appreciate him fully. He looked down at you, widening his legs a little more as you finally unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down just enough to place your head flush against his inner thigh. This general area was familiar territory to you, but you were still a bit lost when it came to how to act around Haechan. You found his soft chuckles and little pats to the top of your head oddly reassuring (once you got past how childish and out of your depth they initially made you feel). Haechan looked down at you endearingly, but even at your low vantage point you could still see the little tinge of satisfaction as the corner of his lip curled up into a sultry half-smile.

You made a point to note how your fingers just barely touched when wrapping around his girth, trailing them lightly along the path of every subtly visible vein like you needed to stimulate each individual nerve hidden beneath his skin. The light tickle from the breaths that you let out through your nose as you kissed at the base of him made Haechan throw his head back and bite his lip, muttering quietly to himself about how cute you looked. He held your chin in one hand, feeling the soft outline of your jaw as the muscles stretched to help you wrap your plush lips around the side of his shaft, the other slowly slid up to your forehead and helped keep your hair out of your face with a firm yet calculated grip to your scalp.

The crash of a large branch hitting Haechan’s bedroom window made you flinch for a second. Your face began to feel warm and your throat tightened as your ears filled with the sounds of harsh winds, rattling twigs, and your date’s dry sarcastic laughter. “Sorry” you mumbled, leaning your head against his leg once more and pressing your salivating tongue eagerly against the flat underside of him.

You could sense the amount of restraint Haechan was using to compose himself. “You’ve got to stop apologizing” he chuckled. The more you trembled, the more he teased you and yet he still made sure to slip in little bits of veiled encouragement as you worked your mouth up him in a series of unhurried nips and pecks. “You’re surprisingly good at that” he taunted “at least for a girl who’s scared of thunder.” You internally rolled your eyes, half at Haechan and half at yourself for being so accidentally transparent. Making you partially wince, Haechan grabbed more firmly at your hair, raising your head up slightly to the head of his dick, impatience reaching an insurmountable threshold. A diaphragmatic growl escaped his lips as he practically snarled. Feeling your wet mouth slide down his length as you took a deep breath in, making sure to swirl your tongue over the tip as he guided your head down as leisurely as he could without shuddering in frustration made his chest begin to rise and fall more deeply and his stomach knot up. Haechan’s expression turned more serious and his mouth remained slightly agape as he took in the view in front of him. The sobering look on his face as he moved your head up and down in the exact way he liked was in direct contrast to your ever quickening heartbeat and the alternate desperate pulse forming between your own legs. You admired how simple he made things for you. You barely had to think because he was so self assured and deliberate in every single one of his motions.

You wondered how many other girls Haechan had had kneeling before him, sucking him off like this and hanging onto his every word. You thought of how easy it was for him to get you flustered, to coerce you into admitting to things you would never usually admit out loud. How he so easily was able to have wrapped around his finger you had no clue, but you were certainly in too deep to second guess yourself now. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth” he whispered seductively, pushing your head down until he was practically hitting the back of your throat. Tears stung in the farthest corners of your eyes as he found yet another way to render you physically and emotionally breathless. His snickers egged you on more than they deterred you, as he delighted in every small instance of ridicule he made you feel. Watching you struggle to keep up with him made him want to find new ways to slow down just so he could pick things back up again and catch you off guard. Sticky saliva and pre-cum mixing together as he became more erect in your throat.

Your voice was already becoming weaker as his hard cock slid against the roof of your mouth and you hollowed out your cheeks. You whined in just about the most down-and-out way Haechan had ever heard as he moved his free hand from your chin to your neck, pressing his fingers to either side of your throat ever so slightly, causing you to have to swallow the choke lodged in your esophagus. He held your head down for a moment until he saw that you were sufficiently starved for breath and released you for a second to once again cup your face and hold your cheeks. He regarded you with pride upon seeing the slight state of dishevelment he had you in. Your eyes were watery and doe-like as you knelt on the carpet and looked up at his smug countenance. “You wanna get up here with me?” He asked and smoothed out the covers a bit.

You nodded dizzily at first, taking a moment to re-experience fresh air. “Yeah…” you said hoarsely, and of course, again, he laughed in your face.

Haechan had to reach down and help you up in your light daze. He lifted you onto the bed again and you sat behind him, watching patiently as he slipped his shirt off and dropped it onto the floor, turning around slowly to tower over you. You instinctively started to lay back as he approached, his eyes glimmering as he stared at you, you gulped and stared at him right back. You had enough time to count all the little freckles and moles on his face twice over with the lethargic speed at which he leaned down to kiss you, swirling his tongue over your lips and tasting a bit of himself on them. His nose was pressed messily against yours as he kissed you swiftly and carelessly, toned thin arms reaching under your shirt to toss it across the room before unclasping your bra. Haechan dragged his teeth down your collarbone and down to your breasts. Throwing your undergarments in any direction he could, he sunk his teeth into the supple flesh of the upper part of your chest, leaving a path of small wet marks you were sure would become full blown bruises by tomorrow morning. Haechan pulled off his own pants fully before going for the button at yours and deftly biting your nipple enough to make you whimper helplessly under him. Again his hands roamed across your body, moaning into your mouth and palming himself lightly, lubricating his pointer and index finger with the slick from his cock before reaching into your underwear. “You’re so wet for me aren’t you?” He whispered into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and kissing your cheek.

It was time for his jaw to do the work as he kissed and chewed every little bit of exposed skin that he could while spinning small circles up and down your clit and at the entrance of your cunt. You ran a hand through his tousled mop of blackish-brown hair and used the other to hold onto his arm to stop yourself from unraveling completely. His fingers pumped inside of you, curling harshly and staying there, torturing you while he took off his boxers. He took a break from sucking the sensitive buds of your nipples to drag his tongue along your slit. He stuck his tongue in without hesitation, aiding his fingers, as they worked together to slide in and out of you, making your head spin. You couldn’t help but wrap your legs around his head as he worked his magic. “You’re already shaking and I’m not even finished with you yet” he joked as your whole body shivered against him, using your legs to pull him in closer, fidgeting with every swipe of his tongue and movement of his fingers.

Haechan pulled back suddenly, holding your waist firmly and pushing you back farther up the bed. He leaned over, reaching into a drawer on the end table next to his bed and smirking at you as your eyes trailed behind him, watching closely like you were studying a specimen under a microscope. “As much as I’d love to fuck you raw, it is only our first date.”

You wondered if that meant he had the intention of doing this again sometime or if he just said that to every girl he had over. Not that you had much time to mull it over in your head. Haechan was already ripping a condom open with his teeth and slipping it on like he was a professional preparing for his own olympic main event. He smiled down at you with a sort of recognition in his eyes while he took your underwear off, like he could read your mind, like he could tell exactly what your were thinking; ‘this guy does this a lot…’

Haechan breathed heavily as he lined himself up at your entrance, pushing into you and immediately raising your legs up so that they were tucked to your chest. “You’re so fucking tight baby…” he said through satisfied gasps and gritted teeth. You could feel him filling you up completely as he fucked you hard and slow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing his forehead against yours. He watched as your whole body followed his movements, helpless against the strength of his thighs. Your desperate whimpering and the girlish childlike quiver of your lip as he looked into your eyes unblinking, refusing to kiss you just so he could get that little bit of extra satisfaction from seeing just how bad you wanted him. “You gonna cum?” Haechan thrusted into you harder. “Am I gonna make you cum?” watching as you almost cried out in agony, hands not daring to move or defy him in any way, chest rising and falling and lips unable to formulate the right words. Haechan snickered. “Hmm? What was that?” He thrusted again, pulling out slowly and forcing himself into you again for every few moments that you spent continuing to struggle to answer him. “I can’t hear you sweetheart” he said once more, eliciting an almost pathetically exasperated moan from you.

“Y-yes Haechan…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes you’re going to make cum.”

“Did I say that you could?”

You could feel the tears forming in your eyes again as he fed on your misery. “No…” you whimpered.

“Then you know that you can’t until I tell you to.” Haechan reached between your legs to play with your swollen bud and you sucked in your bottom lip as he held you still, fucking you like he had all the time in the world. He pulled out slowly and pushed in hard, laying his chest atop your tucked in calves.

“Okay” you whispered “I won’t”. You spoke partially to him and partially to yourself, focusing on the sounds of violent rain pounding onto the sidewalk not unlike how Haechan pounded into you in this moment. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts of boredom, and gray clouds, and parking garages where your car sat cold and empty, but those just made you think of pleasure, and tan skin, and your warm throbbing cunt filling with the liquid proof of yours and his arousal.

Lifting you up slightly, Haechan held your waist, lifting your ass up just enough so that he could slap it. The sting of his hand lingered on your backside as you could feel the imprint even when he went back to holding you down like the outline of his palm had just been freshly tattooed there.

His eyes squeezed shut, pumping into you as he got closer and closer, waiting for the exact right moment to time his release. “Fuck baby” he moaned hoarsely, squeezing his hands around your hips like kneaded dough. Eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head, and inner core tightening with every vicious stroke, you pressed your knees together and wondered whether you should distract yourself by counting sheep or counting down the seconds until you made a mess of yourself and dripped onto his sheets like the rain water overflowing the building’s gutters.

“Haechan…” you whined, strengthening your grip on the back of his neck, trying your best not to squirm in a plea for a bit of his divine mercy. “Can you at least kiss me?” You asked in earnest.

Your adorable little pout softened his expression and put a momentary stop to his brick batting curses and taunts. “Only because you asked so nicely” he cooed, and leaned down to kiss you softly. His embrace was warm and the dulcet tones that spilled from his mouth as his movements became faster and harder inside of you caused your mind to go completely blank. You kissed him back based on muscle memory alone, as your consciousness felt transported elsewhere. Your body and mind experiencing conflicting and complementary sensations all at once.

Haechan quickened his pace, grunting lowly and pulsating inside of you. Your walls constricted around him, reacting to the contours and veins of his rock solid erection that could be felt even through the condom he had so generously put on. He whispered sweet nothings against your skin about how pretty you looked surrendering to him, and about how close you had him. The sublime aching pleasure in your groin accompanied by the choppy pitched up curses Haechan spit out like venom were enough to hold you over for a few more seconds just so you could savor the near tangible ecstasy in the room.

“Now” he said sternly “I want you to cum now.” Wind picking up in time with his arrival, Haechan thrust into you as hard as he could one final time before shakily pulling out and rubbing the head of his covered cock over your clitoris. You almost yelped in shock as he served another harsh slap to your side; solidifying his previous request. You whined, and you whimpered, and you moaned his name like he was the only person in the world that could ever make you feel this way… and for a small moment, as the rain came down, and the sounds of stormy weather became drowned out by heavy breathing a wet sloppy kisses; there was no one that could tell you that that thought wasn’t true, no one could tell you you were wrong when everything felt so goddamn right.

Haechan pulled away but not before planting another tender kiss to your sweaty forehead. He stood up, smirking at you as he tied off his filled up rubber and put it in a nearby garbage can. You laid there, still twitching a bit as you slowly regained your composure. “So are you gonna stay over?” He said pushing his messy hair back.

“Am I allowed to?” You asked breathlessly.

He chuckled a bit reaching down onto the floor in front of his bed and picking up his old t-shirt and shorts and tossing them so that they landed right over your eyes. “Only girls who make me breakfast can stay over” he hissed mockingly. “Anyways, there’s no way you can drive home in a storm like this… I’m not a monster.”

“I’m a good cook…” you replied sitting and watching as he walked over to his bathroom.

“Well then I guess you’ll just have to prove it tomorrow morning”. He yawned and closed the bathroom door without another word. You could hear him singing to himself sweetly in the shower and you secretly hoped that the rain would never end just so you could be stuck here together a little longer.

-🍌 🍶

[the-little-ewok]

An Unorthodox Method

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Rating : 18+/E

Word count : 7600 (ish)

Warnings : It's the one bed trope!, Lil mild angst, lots of teasing, Poe being an adorable little shit, mentions of Poe having hearing problems/being partially deaf in one ear, fluff, banter, SMUT, PIV, fingering, marking (love bites and nail marks), praise kink if you squint, illusions to cum eating, mentions of oral f- receiving, overstimulation if you blink, aftercare, very brief mention of casual sex/one night stands.

Summary : All you want is a hot shower, some clean dry clothes, and to crawl into bed. What you absolutely do not want is Poe Dameron in that bed with you.

@campingwiththecharmings thank you so much for this request! I'm so excited to finally do the one bed trope for Poe! I hope you like it.

Special thank you to @mandinlore for the beta 😘

~~~~~~~~~

The rain hammers a steady ping ping ping on the window as you and Poe stand in the doorway to the room, your clothes soaked and sticking uncomfortably to your skin, your shoes leaving puddles of water.

"You have got to be kidding me!" You groan as Poe laughs.

You had been looking forward to a hot shower, a nice warm bed, and at least a good few hours of peace and quiet. The last part had already been thwarted by the fact some error in the hotel booking meant you only had one room with no others available, and now to add insult to injury there was only one damn bed.

"Well, this is going to be fun!" The pilot chirps happily from beside you, walking in to dump his bag on the chair and leaving wet boot prints in his wake.

Climbing into bed with the resistance's best looking pilot, who you were, if you were honest, a little bit in love with, did not constitute as fun. In fact, after the day you had spent with him, it was the very last thing you wanted to do.

Poe was always, and had always, been chatty, but today he seemed to have turned all his dials up to maximum. He'd talked non stop, made unfunny jokes, inappropriate innuendos that with anyone else you suspect he wouldn't have gotten away with, and done just about anything he could to make himself the most annoying person this side of the galaxy.

For what reason, you had no idea. You had started to suspect perhaps he had realised your warm feelings towards him, and maybe this was his way of making you hate him so he didn't have to let you down, and honestly, you might think it was starting to work.

Trudging into the room, your boots squelching with each step, you place your bags down, resigned to your probably sleepless fate.

"You want the bathroom first?" The pilot offers, despite the fact he's worse off than you, having given you his jacket to hold above your head the moment the downpour started. It hadn't helped much after the first few minutes, but you had been grateful for the shelter anyway.

You don't really register his question, your thoughts lost as you finger the worn leather coat remembering the way his scent clung to it, invading your senses as you splashed through the flooded streets.

"Hey," you look up to find the pilot watching you, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"

You drop the jacket onto the dresser, giving him a smile and a nod.

"Just sick of listening to you."

Poe snorts with laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt and peeling it up over his head. You purposely busy yourself pulling out some dry clothes from your pack , not allowing yourself to peek, although it's a difficult battle.

"There's nobody you love listening to more than me," Poe states, thankfully not seeming to notice your internal fight of keeping your eyes off him.

You sigh, somewhat thankful his annoying cockyness is a distraction from his semi-nakedness. Picking up your sleepwear and wash bag you head towards the bathroom, trying to ignore him. Poe however gives you no quarter, trailing along behind you.

"So what exactly are the sleeping arrangements going to be?" He asks.

Frowning you turn around, your eyes deciding to flicker over his bared torso before meeting his gaze. Even the smallest glance is enough to get blood rushing through your veins, and you can feel heat blossoming across your cheeks.

Ignoring the feeling you gesture to the bed with a raise of your eyebrow.

"But what if you snore?" The pilot asks, clearly not noticing your desire to leave the room until he's decided to put some clothes on.

You pull a face, not quite understanding his issue when he's half deaf from the war anyway. The explosion that had damaged most of the resistance ships had permanently damaged his eardrums, which Poe liked to use to his advantage when he decided he wasn't going to listen to someone, although you think he hears far more than he lets on.

"Poe, you can hardly hear out of one ear as it is! Just sleep on your good ear and you probably won't hear a thing out of the other one."

He folds his arms stubbornly. "I'll hear if you're right next to my head."

"Then you are more than welcome to sleep in the bathroom once I'm done," you offer, stepping into the tiny fresher.

"Nah, I'd rather sleep in the bed. But what if you steal the covers?"

"Then you can take them back."

"What if you cuddle me in your sleep?" He fires quickly.

You give him a withering look, trying not to think about pressing your body against his, keeping your eyes trained on his face.

"Oh trust me Poe, I won't." In fact you will do everything possible not to touch him, just for your own sanity.

"But you might. I'm very into consent and if I'm asleep-" he pauses mid sentence, opening his mouth and then closing it again before leaning against the door frame. "Actually scratch all of that. I absolutely give you consent to do whatever you like to me."

The pilot grins at you and you feel a familiar surge of heat through your body, collecting and coiling in your abdomen. Combined with your patience finally snapping, it's the last straw. You slam the bathroom door in his handsome smug face.

The lukewarm shower really tops off the day.

~

"I've been thinking" Poe starts the moment he exits the bathroom, after loudly complaining through the door about you using up all the hot water.

You pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh, the hope that he would have calmed down and go straight to sleep evaporating. You are grateful however that he's at least finally put a shirt on.

"That must hurt."

"Oi!" He protests with a shocked expression, that at least brings a little smile to your lips. He grins at you, letting you know he took no offence at your words.

"As I was saying," he continues while you lay out his clothes to dry, the ones he dumped in a wet pile in the middle of the floor. "I've been thinking, and I know what's wrong with you. I want you to know it's okay."

The way his voice suddenly goes so gentle makes you look around. The pilot holds out his hand, wrapping his fingers around yours as he pulls you closer, holding your gaze steadily. You hope he doesn't notice the way your breath catches, or the heat blazing through you that makes your hands clammy.

"It's okay to be nervous," he continues, while your mouth goes dry. "I know spending the night with me is a lot, and it's going to be so difficult for you to keep your hands to yourself, but we are going to get through this together, and you'll be able to tell everyone about it when we get home."

You snatch your hand angrily out of his while the pilot bursts into laughter.

"Grow up and get in the damn bed!" You growl, climbing into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and turning over away from him, your heart thundering in your chest. How, even when he was joking, did he manage to get so damn close to the truth?

"Why do you want me in bed so badly, huh? Thinking about late night cuddles?" You hear the pilot ask, feeling the mattress sink with his weight.

"No. When you're asleep, you're not talking," you bite out, still stinging from the embarrassment of your reaction when he was just being his usual annoying self.

Poe ignores your hostility and you feel him shrug.

"Listen, all I'm trying to do is tell you that we could eliminate some of this sexual tension. Well, if you wanted to."

Sexual tension wasn't exactly what you would say was between you, but there was always certainly something, although with Poe you imagine he had that with everyone. With you though, your feelings for the pilot ran a little deeper, not that you'd ever dare speak those aloud. The last thing you needed was the "it's not you, it's me" speech, especially if his behaviour was to drive you away. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

You run a hand down your face with an exasperated sigh. "There is absolutely no sexual tension, Poe. What there is, is murderous tension."

Poe lets out an exclamation of excitement.

"Oh my favourite kind!"

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile, lest you encourage him to continue.

"Please Poe, go to damn sleep," you whine, pulling the pillow from under your head and pressing it against your ear, trying to block out his incessant rambling.

"I will if you admit it."

"Admit what?" You groan, frustrated. Why can't he just shut the hell up and let you get through this?

"That you've thought about us."

"Poe I swear-" you take a deep breath, grabbing the cushion with one hand, rolling over with the intent on smothering him into silence. You're surprised to find the pilot on his side, almost nose to nose with you in the small bed.

"You've seriously never thought about us kissing?" Poe interrupts.

"I…I…" you’re thrown by his closeness, by his long lashes and soft smile, by the damn doe eyed look he's giving you.

You know there's no shutting him up until you tell him what he wants to hear so you take a breath. It wouldn't exactly be news to him, Poe knew just about everyone had considered kissing him at some point or another. The man did come with a reputation for having a rather skillful mouth after all.

"Fine! Maybe once or twice. Now go to damn sleep!" You growl, annoyed at him, and yourself.

The shit eating grin he gives you is enough to make you turn back over, tucking the pillow under your head and shutting your eyes tightly, as though that alone might drown him out.

"I knew it," he gloats with a happy sigh, clicking off the bedside lamp.

You grip the pillow, considering the option you still have of smothering him.

Thankfully he's quiet from that point and infuriatingly asleep in less than five minutes. You can feel the mattress move with his slow steady breaths.

Glancing over your shoulder he's laid out on his back, one arm tucked under his head, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he dreams, his full lips open with a soft sigh.

Turning around again you punch the lumpy pillow, trying to get more comfortable.

You will not think about kissing him. That was a one time thing. Okay, maybe three or four. Well maybe more… a lot more. You're determined tonight for once, you will not fall asleep thinking about his mouth on yours, you will absolutely not think about his lips on your skin, or his fingers caressing your breasts…

Someone suddenly shakes you and you open your eyes groggily, the room swimming and blurred as you blink sleep from your vision.

"What the hell?" You grumble, looking up at the pilot with his sleep tousled curls, still half asleep himself, one eye still shut and the other half open, bathed in the soft moonlight glow that sneaks through the blinds.

"You said my name," he mumbles, voice still sleep gravelled. "You alright?"

Flashes of his mouth sealed over your nipple, his tongue darting out to lick a path down to your navel, your hand gripping his hair, his mouth between your thighs.

Oh no. You absolutely did not have a sex dream about him. Not now, not here. Please no!

"You must have dreamt it," you swallow, desperately trying to play it cool. If Poe heard you while he was dead asleep, then you must have been loud. You feel the heat prickling the back of your neck.

"No, I definitely heard you say Poe," he insists.

"Well even if I did I'm fine so you can go back to sleep," you insist, shifting your legs restlessly. You're too warm. Well not just warm, burning hot, sweat cooling on your skin, an uncomfortable ache between your legs that screams of unsatisfied desire.

"You sure? You sounded a bit…breathless?" The pilot asks again, genuine concern in his tone. Although you can barely see him in the dim lighting you can still see the frown pulling his brows together, both eyes now open and studying you. You really don't want him to press any further. Even his voice brings back flashes of the dream, sultry whispers in your ear, his tongue lapping at your folds, the cry of his name from your mouth.

You swallow again, pushing the thoughts away.

"Really, I'm fine. Must have been a nightmare if it involved you anyway."

"Ouch." He holds his hands over his chest, collapsing back onto the mattress as though you wounded him, giving a long drawn out dramatic death rattle.

Pulling up the covers you throw them over his head with a laugh.

"Go back to sleep, Flyboy."

Laying back you shuffle as close to the edge as you can, putting as much distance as possible between you and the pilot. You wonder if it would be better for you to stay awake, just in case your dreams come back to haunt you. You absolutely wouldn't get away with saying his name a second time.

"It's okay you know," Poe speaks suddenly into the darkness as you lay rigid beside him. "If you were dreaming about me. I wouldn't mind."

You can't help but snort with laughter at that.

"You wouldn't mind if anyone dreams about you."

"True," Poe admits. You feel him shift and even though you can't see him, your eyes staring up at the ceiling, his gaze burns you.

"Let me rephrase. I'd like it if you dreamt about me." He continues.

When you don't turn to face him or grace him with an answer, you feel the shift of the mattress again as he lays back.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and for once it sounds genuine, not a hint of playfulness in his tone. "I thought this would cheer you up. It's been a long week and you've just seemed so… I don't know. Not yourself, like you're bottling everything up. I figured maybe if you were thinking about how annoying I was, or making you laugh and fight with me, it would give you a bit of a distraction and an outlet, but I get it, maybe I took it too far, even if it is the truth."

It had been a long week, the longest in fact. While the mission itself had been a success, you had seen a lot of the First Order's destruction in the process, and it was worse than either of you had realised. You'd felt melancholy for days, the sights you've witnessed replaying in your mind. You hadn't noticed it much at the time, too lost in your own thoughts and angry that he was so loud that it was impossible to hear yourself think, but the more you think about it, the more you realise what he's been doing — trying to make you smile, keeping you distracted, making you focus on anything but what's happened. All you've done is complain to him about it.

Guilt twists hard in your stomach.

How typical of Poe to try and be helpful in the most unconventional way.

Part of you wants to reach for him, to cuddle him tight against you and thank him, to tell him you're here for him too if he needs someone. The other part keeps you rigidly pinned to the mattress, afraid to move in case so much as a finger brushes up against him, unsure if you can hold yourself back with the lingering memory of the dream.

"You mean the truth is that you really are worried I snore?" You ask, trying to break the unbearable tension.

His answer is the most serious he's sounded all day. There isn't a trace of humour, of teasing, just a tiredness, the kind that comes from pretending to smile all day, the kind that signals a surrender.

"No, I could live with that. I mean the dreaming part. I'd like it if you dreamt about me."

"Oh." You can't find anything else to say to that, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest you're sure even through his damaged ear he can hear it.

The ongoing silence suddenly feels heavy, like a crushing weight on your chest, the truth feels like lead in your belly. Poe hasn't made a single noise in a while but you get the distinct feeling he isn't asleep. You wonder if he's laying still too, muddling through his thoughts.

You can't take back your behaviour towards him but you can at least give him something in return.

"Poe?"

The response is instant, "Yeah?"

You take a breath, swallowing hard, your fingers twisting into the sheet at the edge of the bed, nervously gripping them.

"Every day," you whisper quietly.

"Huh?"

You feel a slight shift as he must turn to look at you.

You clear your throat, staring hard enough at the ceiling that your eyes start to burn, repeating yourself louder.

"I said every day. I lied earlier. It's not once or twice. I think about kissing you every day. I have for a while," you admit.

A sudden blinding light obscures your vision, making you cry out in surprise and squeeze your eyes shut against the sudden intrusion. Coloured lights flash behind your eyelids and you have to blink a few times in order to see anything.

When the room comes back into focus Poe is sitting bolt upright in the bed, staring down at you, the bedside lamp illuminating his head like a synthetic halo.

"You were dreaming about me!"

With a groan you grab the pillow and hold it over your own face, deciding if you can't smother him you could just smother yourself instead, which seems like the better option than actually having this conversation.

You feel the pillow tug back gently, but you hold fast, refusing to give it up.

"Come on, let go and talk to me. You've said it now." A grunt of effort and a hard tug on the pillow before Poe sighs. "I'm not going away so you're either going to suffocate or talk."

"Then I'll suffocate," you mumble into the pillow, already regretting saying anything.

"You know I can't hear you right? Come on." This time he tucks his fingers under yours and peels them off the pillow cover until it falls halfway off your face.

"Better," he smiles, letting go of your hands to remove it entirely. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I don't want to see your smug smile about how right you are," you glare, trying to hide your embarrassment that you've blurted out exactly what you've been trying to conceal from him. Once more, Poe takes your attitude in his stride.

"I've thought about kissing you too, you know? In fact I've thought about kissing you at least four times since you woke me up." He gives a shrug, like you should know that, like it's completely utterly normal for someone to think about kissing you that many times in the space of ten minutes.

You bite your lip, familiar tendrils of desire reigniting in your belly. Your body, still clearly on edge from your illicit dream, thrums with tension.

"So why haven't you done it yet?"

Poe rolls his eyes, as though the answer is obvious. "Clearly I'm building up the sexual tension for it!"

You're done letting him have the upper hand in this. In a surge of confidence, and to stop the smug look on his face, you wrap your hand around the back of the pilot's neck, before you pull his lips to yours. You feel Poe's brief smile, probably of victory, against your mouth before he kisses you back.

It's soft at first, almost sweet tender kisses, short and playful, getting to know each other. He kisses your top and bottom lip, he gives you tiny pecks of affection, he licks playfully at your bottom lip.

Effortlessly he shifts his weight over you, slotting himself between your thighs as though you were made to fit together. His tongue licks into your mouth, slick and hot, sliding against your own as he presses his body against yours, your kisses descending into something much more passionate.

Maker, the rumours weren't wrong. He is good at this, better than good actually, infuriatingly good. You can't even find any fault to tease him about.

You tangle your fingers in his curls, tugging gently and causing the pilot to moan into your mouth. You give a shiver of desire at the sound, your mind filled with thoughts of how you can draw it from him in other ways. Poe's mind seems to be on a similar track, his hips grinding against yours, pressing himself against your core and causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the jolt of pleasure.

Perhaps there was a little sexual tension after all.

The pilot pulls away, his chest heaving, eyes dark and lips kiss swollen, his curls messy and tousled from your fingers.

"Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away so quickly," he apologises, swallowing hard as he clearly tries to get a handle on himself, holding his body off yours, allowing a brief respite for you both to collect yourselves.

"I don't mind getting carried away," you admit, still feeling feverish with his closeness, your mind filled with the fantasy of your dreams. You raise your hips, pressing up against his clothed length, making the pilot let out a choked moan of surprise before his eyes darken.

"Well in that case," he grins, recovering all too quickly. Desire coils in your belly and before you can drag his mouth back to yours, in true Poe fashion, he continues talking. "Why don't you tell me what I was doing in this dream of yours?"

You give him a coy smile. As if he's going to get it out of you that easily.

"Fulfilling my deepest fantasy," you answer as Poe licks his lips, eagerly leaning forward to listen.

"Oh yeah? What fantasy might that be?"

"You were quiet for a whole five minutes," you sigh dreamily. It takes a second to register with him before he leans back bursting out laughing. You can't help but start to giggle yourself.

"Okay, I deserved that!" He laughs. "My methods may be unorthodox, but they work!"

He was entirely correct in that him being his usual annoying self was exactly what you had needed as a distraction, although you're sure there were less annoying ways to achieve the same means.

"I don't know. I actually considered murdering you at least a few times. Maybe I still will, when you're fast asleep and least expecting it," you warn, running a finger along your throat in a playful threat.

Poe hums, leaning back down over you, caging you to the bed with his arms.

"What exactly makes you think either of us will be going back to sleep?"

Oh.

There's another rush of heat that tingles against your skin, shooting straight down to your aching core. It's not at all helped by the fact Poe leans down to capture your lips, his tongue slipping between your teeth as he moves one hand to grip your hip, sliding it slowly up your body and under your shirt to trail his fingers across your breast.

You moan into his mouth as he rolls your peaked nipple between his fingers, grinding yourself up against him, uncaring of whatever commentary he wants to make as long as you can deal with this rapidly intensifying desire.

When he finally pulls away once more it's hard to get your breath, especially as he continues to steal little kisses from you, his fingers still resting against your skin.

Bracing himself on one arm above you, the other slides down to tiptoe over your hip.

"Do I have your consent to remove these ugly pants?" He grins teasingly, pulling at the waistband of your shorts. They had seen better days in all fairness but you hadn't really considered anyone else seeing them.

"Hey, they aren't that bad! Not like you're the pinnacle of fashion." In retaliation you poke your finger through a hole in the leg of his threadbare sleep pants, making the pilot laugh.

"These are my lucky pants."

You can't help but snort with a roll of your eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard."

Poe raises one eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

"They got you into my bed didn't they?"

You scoff, "The hotel management got me into this bed."

"You know what, you're right. Maybe I should go thank them now," Poe muses, his grin turning into a laugh as you wrap your arms around him, preventing him from leaving.

"Will you please just stop talking?" You laugh, wondering how much of the night is even left. You swear if the sun rises and you haven't resolved this, you will combust of need, and you will take the pilot out with you.

Poe raises his eyebrows.

"Well, I would, but you still haven't answered my original question."

You stare at him, trying to figure out what exactly he's talking about before you realise.

"For the love of… Yes Poe, I give you consent to do whatever you want to me as long as you stop dragging this out like a massive tease!"

The pilot lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, a soft gesture in a stark contrast to what leaves his mouth, "dangerous words, sweetheart."

You almost shudder with the flash of desire that bolts through you, making sharp heat rush across your skin and your pussy clench.

"I need you to make me a promise first though," his fingers slip across your abdomen, resting just above the waistband of your pants. The feverish desire at his touch is overshadowed by annoyance that he's still talking. Maker, you swear he won't survive till sunrise.

"Po-

"I'm going to need you to be loud," he purrs in your ear, cutting you off as his hand slips under your waistband. "I don't want to miss a single noise you make."

Even if you wanted to be quiet, the pad of his finger slipping across your clit causes your body to react in a primal way, letting out an embarrassing loud moan for such a little touch.

Poe chuckles.

"Just like that." He praises, sliding his finger down further to dip into your entrance, letting out a soft groan of his own at how wet you are, before he drags it back up, spreading your slick over your aching clit and making you whine again. "Can you do that for me? Can you be loud enough?"

The best you can muster is a whimper as he slowly thrusts his finger knuckle deep into you.

"Nu-huh," Poe chides, "loud."

A second finger quickly joins the first, stretching your walls and filling you more than your own ever could. This time you arch your back off the bed, chasing the blissful feeling as a much louder groan tears itself from your throat.

"Better," Poe grins. "I heard that one."

You want to smother him, you want to kiss him, but most of all, despite his annoying little smug smile, you still desperately want to fuck him.

You decide on option two, at least for the moment, pulling his lips down to yours.

His tongue licks into your mouth as he thrusts his fingers inside you at a leisurely pace, swallowing each whine and moan you give at the pleasure skittering and coiling in you.

Poe curls his fingers, pressing up against that spot inside you, making you pull away from his kiss to throw your head back in pleasure, a loud groan of his name escaping. You're half expecting him to make some sort of cocky comment, but Poe seems as lost in this as you are. He drops his head to press open mouthed kisses across your neck, biting and sucking, marking and claiming you as his.

When he works a third finger into you, his thumb brushing against your clit, you come undone. Normally you would feel embarrassed about how loud you are, the way your body shudders and heaves, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers, but the shaky little fuck Poe groans in your ear, obliterates any notion of embarrassment.

As you come down from your high, your body still trembling from the aftershock, whining as he slips his fingers from you, you realise he's breathing almost as heavily as you are, his breath coming out in short pants as he looks you over.

"I need to fuck you," he growls, clearly struggling with his own needs.

You're already nodding before he gets halfway through his request. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants, you'll give it to him without hesitation.

He all but tears your pyjamas from you, making short work of removing them and throwing them across the room, before his join the unceremonious pile on the floor.

This time you allow yourself to look, you allow yourself to take in his broad chest, the little scars crisscrossed with a larger one, old and new, your gaze trailing down across his abdomen to the line of hair that guides your eyes down to -

"Are you done admiring?" Poe's amused tone makes your eyes snap back up to his, your face growing warm with embarrassment that you've been caught staring, although you know he has probably done exactly the same to you.

"I don't know about admiring," you shrug as though your pussy isn't pulsing at the thought of him burying his cock deep inside you. "Think the resistance needs to re-evaluate their best looking pilot status."

Poe simply grins at you, seeing through your nonchalance all too clearly.

"Good to know you like what you see. Tell me, how wet did it make you to see me earlier, all soaked and shirtless?"

"Didn't," is all you are able to punch out as he leans down, pressing his body against yours, rolling his hips just slightly so his hard cock brushes against your slick folds, holding himself at your entrance like the tease he is.

"Really?" He smirks, "Somehow I think you are lying. But alright, I'll get the truth out of you, one way or another." The threat gives you a rush of excitement, wondering exactly how he's going to do that. Not that you're going to let him know that so easily.

"Are you going to keep talking or are we going to-" your question cuts off into a gasp of pleasure as he presses himself inside you, slowly, so you can feel every vein and ridge as he stretches your walls.

"Are we going to what?" He grins.

You slap his arm in reply but there's no power behind it, you're too busy concentrating on the wet noise as he pulls out of you before slowly pressing back in, making you whimper in need. The first time your pussy clenches around him it's involuntary, the second time it's just to enjoy the little groan the action draws from the pilot.

"Stop," he warns, his head dropping to your shoulder, clearly trying to steady his breathing as you clench around him a third time, just for fun. "Taking it slow."

"You don't have to take it slow," you assure him. For a moment you think it's sweet he's considering your comfort but you're more than ready for this.

"I want to," he grits as you clench around him again. The tone of his voice lets you know he's digging his stubborn heels in and nothing will change his mind. Even so you need more than he's offering. This has gone on too long, the tension is too much, the need drumming through your veins screams to be sated.

You whine, you beg, you plead, you drag your nails along his back and arch your hips against him, but he doesn't give. He rocks into you slowly, achingly slowly, maddeningly slowly, and for all your initial protests you enjoy every second of it.

The pleasure builds just as slow, each roll of his hips winding the cord tighter and tighter until you're sure you can't take any more, and then it pulls further. You can't do anything but surrender to the bliss it offers, raising your hips to meet his in the hopes his resolve will eventually break.

"You're incredible you know?" He pants against your mouth, sweat beading at his hairline, his curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes hooded and glazed. "Not just at this, but this too."

All you can do is stare at him, somewhat dazed, wondering how he's even thinking in coherent sentences right now, let alone speaking them. Somewhere your subconscious registers his words and it accompanies a host of butterflies in your belly.

"Just you, exactly as you are. You are incredible," he repeats, only this time it comes with a much harder thrust. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your head drops back against the pillows.

"Poe, please," you beg, unsure if you are able to take much more. Clearly neither can he, his name on your lips undoing his patience. He wraps his fingers around your thigh, hoisting your leg up over his hip as he sinks deeper into you, picking up the pace.

His hips slam into yours, filling the room with the sound of flesh on flesh, accompanied only by his curses and praises that fall freely and loudly. For all his requests for you to be loud the pilot's own moans are enough to drown yours out.

Working a hand between your bodies you press a finger to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the hardened nub as Poe angles his hips, pressing up against the blissful spot inside you. Your whole body almost arches up off the bed with the combined pleasure catapulting through you, an almost screamed curse fighting its way out of your throat.

Poe groans low and shakily, barely holding his own climax back, his thrusts becoming messy and mistimed.

"That's it baby. Fuck wanna feel you cum, wanna hear you," he groans, completely wrecked.

That's all it takes. Your orgasm hits suddenly and brightly, your whole body writhing and stiffening as the pleasure overtakes you, coursing through your veins like lava, making your vision go white as you tremble through it. Poe had wanted to hear you, but the purely feral noise you let out, you wouldn't be surprised if the whole damn hotel heard you. You're sure Poe would probably enjoy it if they did.

It's almost too much for your oversensitive body to feel Poe thrusting into you faster and harder, chasing his own end, babbled curses and praises falling from his lips. You shake with overstimulation when his hips stutter, emptying himself deep inside you, your nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders as you cling desperately to him, your thighs trembling, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Poe half collapses on you, letting your leg down slowly as he presses soft kisses to your neck, against every love bite he's given you in the heat of the moment. You suspect there may be quite a few questions when you get back to the base tomorrow. Turning your head you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making him lean up to look at you.

"Better than you dreamt?" He grins, still flushed and panting.

"I didn't dream about that," you giggle breathlessly, shaking limbs melting into the mattress, sated and tired. Poe raises his eyebrows, letting out a thoughtful hum before he suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper and immediately miss the feeling of him inside you.

Shuffling down your body he presses a soft kiss between your breasts. You frown at him, confused by his sudden movement and how he still has so much energy. How is it you're a wrecked mess and he's still acting like he can go another ten rounds? Why can't he just be still for one second?

Another kiss to your ribs, first the right side, then the left, moving slowly down, before he pauses, looking up through his lashes at you.

"You didn't dream about us making love?"

You go to make fun of his choice of language but before you have a chance he licks a hot stripe down to your naval, making your breath catch with the sudden rush of pleasure. You're starting to question if he's able to read your thoughts, if he knows the truth of your dream already. Perhaps you had said more than just his name in your sleep?

"Nope, not about us," you breathe unsteadily, trying to hold yourself back from begging anything from him again. You suspect you know what's coming next and honestly, you're not sure if your body is able to handle it, barely over your first two climaxes. Still you weren't about to give in to his questions, he'd never shut up if you admit it. "Told you, I wasn't dreaming about you."

"You are a terrible liar," Poe states, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. The rush of cold air against your heated flesh makes you gasp and the pilot smirks, his eyes flickering down to your swollen cunt, leaking with your combined climax before coming back to you, a devilish grin taking over his face.

"'Whatever I want to do to you' still stand?" He asks.

All you can do is nod mutely, a fresh wave of need building despite your exhaustion.

"Good," Poe grins, pinning your thighs to the mattress, preventing you from moving. "Because I'm going to get the truth out of you my way."

He does exactly that. He drags the truth out of you to every question he wants answered and more, twice with his mouth, then again with his cock, reducing you to a babbling trembling mess, willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know, and he's infuriatingly smug about it.

~

Poe had been surprisingly tender afterwards. He'd carefully cleaned you up, brought you a glass of water, massaged your sore muscles, before he'd finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.

Of course you had known Poe was kind, of course you knew he took care of the people he was close to, even those who only spent the night with him. There were enough stories around the base to give you a general idea of that, but for some reason you can't place this felt different, it felt intimate.

What surprised you more than anything was how quiet he was now. Appart from a few murmured words about how good you had been for him, and to check you were alright, he hadn't said much at all. It was almost unnerving after his behaviour all day. Really if you had known this would have shut him up you might have jumped on him hours ago. But now, the silence seems worrying.

"You okay?" You ask, your head still against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his fingers draw mindless patterns against your back.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking…maybe we can do this again? Sometime soon? Be in the same bed I mean." The pilot asks. He doesn't sound like the cocky confident Flyboy you're expecting. If anything he sounds a little unsure of his own question.

You won't give him the satisfaction of the enthusiastic yes that tries to escape. The last thing you want out of this night is to become some regular casual hook-up. Poe wasn't exactly known for keeping long term relationships, citing the fact it was too difficult during the middle of a war, which you suppose you could understand. He was at least always very clear about that with whoever he got involved with.

Equally you don't want to say no. You want this, him. You want the moments of passion and quiet, you want the teasing and fights, you want more in whatever way you can.

In the end you go for the middle ground, giving him an option of more, while closely guarding yourself against this being a casual fuck.

"Hmm, suppose if you buy me dinner first then I might consider it. I don't make a habit of sleeping with people without dates."

It's disarmingly sweet when he presses a soft kiss to your head, tightening his arm around you. Your chest aches all the more for moments like this.

"Alright. A date it is." You can hear the smile in his voice, sleepy and happy.

You didn't exactly expect him to agree to that so easily, and while it gives you a flutter of hope, you don't quite trust he catches your meaning.

"I said I'd consider, I didn't say I'd agree. I might have other options," you warn, trying to get him to consider what he wants you to be to him.

Poe lets out a soft chuckle.

"You say that like your pretending it wasn't the best fuck of your life, and you're desperate to do it again."

You lean up on your arm to look at him, raising an eyebrow and fixing him with an unimpressed look at his cockyness.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenges confidently, "because if I am, then I'm just going to have to keep trying. The aim is to make you fall hopelessly in love with me eventually."

"Through sex?" You laugh, ignoring the now familiar butterflies that tell you he might be closer to his aim than he knows.

Poe shrugs, "through whatever necessary means, as long as I get to keep you as mine."

It's almost a knee jerk reaction to open your mouth and tell him you aren't a pet or property to be owned, but as you meet his gaze you realise you are once more judging him a little too quickly and all too harshly. It's clear he means more than that, his gaze open and vulnerable.

A warm feeling of familiarity, of safety, of something bigger, spreads through your very bones, something that shows there is much more than lust and affection, perhaps for both of you.

Your response is much softer than your initial reaction might have been, had you not taken a moment.

"Take me to dinner tomorrow then?"

"I think tomorrow might be today," Poe smiles, nodding towards the window where the faint pink light of dawn is starting to peek through the drawn blinds. You groan knowing sunrise both means you really should untangle yourself from the pilot and head back to base.

"Well honestly I think I've had enough of you for one day." You tease, pushing yourself off him and sitting up, debating if you can handle another cold shower. In all honesty a cold shower is probably exactly what you need after you make the mistake of glancing down at Poe, still naked, the sheet barely covering his more private parts, his curls messy from your fingers, peering up at you with a half smile.

"We both know you can never get enough of me," Poe states, before he wraps his arms around you and drags you back down onto the bed. He throws one leg over yours, effectively trapping you next to him as he snuggles up close to you.

You don't bother fighting, too tired from the night's activity to argue your way out of his grip. Sighing you sink into the bed, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

"I knew this would work," Poe hums happily in your ear. You mumble enough of a sound to make him realise you're asking what he means.

"Getting you in a hotel room with me would make you admit you wanted me."

You give another tired hum in acknowledgement before his words finally hit you, and you sit up to stare at him, suddenly wide awake. Poe grins back at you, knowing exactly what you are thinking.

"Tell me this was not some plan to get me into bed!"

Poe feigns a comedic shocked expression, holding one hand to his chest as he stares open mouthed at you.

"Of course not! What do you think of me? Why is your opinion of me is so low that you think I'd go as far to break the ship engine, so we'd be stuck here alone, find the busiest hotel on this planet, specifically book one room knowing the others would be booked already by the time we got here, ask for the smallest bed-"

He doesn't get to continue. Picking up the pillow you repeatedly hit him hard with it while Poe laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I'm joking. I'm joking, I swear," he laughs, grabbing his own pillow and hitting you back. "I'd never purposely break a ship."

"You manipulative little shit,"

Neither of you surrender until the bed is covered with feathers, the pillowcases empty and discarded, your limbs tangled together, lips pressed against sweat salted skin. This time it's you who pries the truth from him, your way.

"My methods may be unorthodox but -" he gets no further before you smack him in the face with your pillow, causing him to dissolve into laughter once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Thank you for reading!

[just1cefor4ll]

Heyyy:)

I’ve been reading every single SBG Post you have, and I kindly wanted to request something👉👈

Sooo (reader) who’s main weapons are fireworks/explosives(cuz light, and well explosions) And they somehow get hurt by them one day?

(Preferably gn/fem reader, with Ben, Aiden and/ or Tyler) 🧎🧎

Sooo thx for reading this:) You’re so cool!

A/N: oo love this!! thank you for requesting<3 and btw idk why Aidens is so long I think I blacked out while writing for him :,)

warnings: bl00d, swearing, bad grammar, explosives, fireworks, mentions of gagging and throwing up

scenario:

You’ve been playing around with explosives ever since you were little. You lived with your older brother who was experiences with these things and since he couldn’t teach you how to fight, he chose to teach you how to work with explosives. Whether it was fireworks, dynamite, grenades, you knew how to work it. One day while fighting off a phantom your own weapon, well, backfires.

Ben Clark 🎧ྀི

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎧ྀི ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You throw the grenade at the phantom, another in hand waiting to be thrown. You don’t realize you already pulled out the pin from the grenade and it explodes in your hand. You feel numb, eyes wide from the sudden explosion and ears ringing. You feel a really bad pain in your arm, well at least whats left of it and scream. Everyone turns in your direction and either gasp, scream, or full on start to gag. Ben rushes to your side and pick you on on his back and runs with you to the graveyard along with everyone else, Ashlyn yelling a quick; “Everyone back down.”

Your vision starts to get blurry and someone hits your cheeks; “Y/N, you need to stay awake, okay? Don’t pass out, Y/N, Y/N!” You keep your eyes open but look away from the gruesome sight and start to sob. “Everything will be okay we won’t let anything happen to you.” You hear a robotic kind of voice and look into that direction seeing Ben with the most worried expression, Aiden standing there next to him to somewhat calm him down. You smile weakly but instantly hold back a scream of pain as someone starts to clean your wound.

“Fuck..” You groan and look at the night sky, hoping for this pure torture to end. You sigh as they finally start to wrap your ‘arm’ and finish the little procedure. After that Ashlyn goes away, probably to throw up or something. You don’t blame her, that was really a gruesome sight. You feel a presence beside you and look towards the person, smiling when you see Ben. “Hey..” You say and he nods, pulling you a bit closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, trying to sleep the trauma off. It was funny, you were taking it more lightly than you thought. “Ben?” You say and he looks down at you. “Isn’t it funny?” You smile and look up at him, making him raise a brow; “That everyone is taking this so harshly while I’m here literally not even crying? Well yes I did cry but that shit really hurt and I—” You shut up when you get embraced into a hug. You relax and let the tears fall, Ben patting your back. “Let it out.” He whispers so only you could hear. You were one of the only ones except Aiden and his family that heard his voice. It wasn’t often but when he did speak a warm feeling welled up in your chest.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He says in a raspy voice and you sniffle, pulling away from the hug. You look up at the stars, trying to ignore your aching arm. “Thanks, um, for being here when I need you.” You say and he nods, kissing your cheek and puts an arm around your shoulder. “I’d do anything for you, I’m just sad I couldn’t stop this whole thing from happening.” He thinks to himself and just stares at you lovingly, leaving you to rest.

Aiden Clark

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎸 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Everything hurt like hell. You could hear a faint buzz in your head as you tried to quickly move away but a sharp pain pierced through your entire body. Tears started to fall from your face. “Why am I crying?” You think to yourself not knowing how to stop the bothersome tears from coming down your face. You look down at your body and your eyes widen, brain forever traumatized by the gruesome sight. Your leg was completely torn off and your side was bleeding as well. Fire was forming beside you where an explosion once erupted from your fireworks. You look at the sky, just hoping for the clock to strike 7 like it usually did and end this horrible nightmare. You feel your body be picked up by someone and just close your eyes, shoulders relaxing as your whole world turns into a black void.

You jolt awake, looking around frantically, quickly relaxing when you recognize your little safe space; your room. You groan, your side and leg feeling numb and tingly. Looking up at the ceiling you contemplate whether you should go to school or not, but you know that would worry your friends and even Aiden even more than you already did. Slipping from under the covers you get ready and walk down to the kitchen where your brother was making you breakfast, your favorite. He smiles at you warmly and kisses your forehead; “Tough night?” He knew what has been going on, you told him just a few weeks after Savannah. You were the first out of the group to tell anyone and your brother of course believed you, knowing you as a person to not make up such things. You frown at the thought of last night and decide to not tell him, knowing he would take the blame, saying something like; “I should’ve taught you better.” or even going as far as saying “I shouldn’t have taught you at all.” You sigh and put on a fake smile; “Hey I’m fine! Everything went well last night.” He smiles and ruffles up your hair; “Okay kiddo, if you say so. Now get to school you don’t wanna be late.” He says and you nod, quickly going upstairs yo gather some last minute things and rush to catch the bus, not really being in the mood to walk to school.

You get to the bus and see a very tired and worried looking group of kids, aka the group. Ben was comforting Aiden who was more quiet then usual, Tyler looking more pissed then ever, Taylor being the complete opposite and put on a fake smile, and well Ashlyn had a poker face on like usual but still looked pretty worried having her head rested on the window looking at god knows what. “Hey.” You say and everyone looks up, Taylor rushing to hug you and Logan who you hadn’t noticed did as well, all of them bombarding you with questions. You sit down and turn so your back is against the chair in front of you and legs towards the back of the seat you were sitting on. You were facing the group and everyone waited for you to speak, but only Aiden caught your eye. He wasn’t looking in your direction and was fiddling with his fingers, something very unlike him. You tell everyone you’re fine and tell them you can talk about it later, grabbing Aidens shoulder when you get off the bus. “Guys go on ahead, we will be there in a minute.” Everyone nods and Aiden tenses up and looks down.

“Hey hun, everything okay? You’re more quiet than usu—” You get taken by surprise when Aiden raises his voice at you, tears in his eyes and a very worried but angry expression on his face. “Okay? Y/N I really am not okay. I saw my s/o get blown up by fireworks, do you know how that feels?” You go to speak but get cut off again and just stay quiet from then; “I’m glad you’re okay but I’m not, oh but wait! I’m totally fine! I just saw the love of my fucking life get blown up but thats totally fine! Is that what you wanted to hear Y/N? Well too bad.” He says and you furrow your brows, fist clenching and face going a bit paler than usual.

“That’s nice Aiden, but you are forgetting who actually suffered here. I’m the one who got hurt and you don’t understand how fucking painful that shit is, getting blown up by something you’ve been taught to use ever since you were little by your own family. I didn’t only suffer physically, but seeing that shit fucked me up just as much as it did you. But yeah if it makes you feel better then you’re the one who suffered the most Aiden.” You say and run off into the school, Aiden watching you disappear in the crowd of students who were rushing to get to class. Your words really got to Aiden, he taught about them more and more as he went to class, where you would be. He sits down and puts on a facade for the others, making himself look like he was okay when he really wasn’t. Ben knew something was off but knew better than to interfere in your guys’ situation.

After school you go home, laying in your bed and look up at the ceiling, salty tears pouring out from your eyes making them sting. You hear a knock on your door and you quickly sit up and wipe your tears; “Probably my brother.” You think to yourself but your body tenses when you see a weakly smiling Aiden with flowers and a teddy bear in his hands. You let him in and close the door behind you, facing him. He sets the gifts down and slowly approaches you, opening his arms for a hug. You tackle him in a hug and you both fall to the ground with a loud thud, making both of you chuckle. You stay on the floor like that for quite a bit, Aiden rubbing your back to soothe you as you cry your eyes out, mumbling apologies and ‘I love yous”. He sits up with you in his lap and kisses your cheek and then nose. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you like that it was so uncalled for and I should’ve realized how painful that must’ve been for you. I hope you can forgive me even tho a simple sorry won’t really make up for what I did and said.” He says and looks you in the eyes, cupping your cheek in his hand. You contemplate what to say, knowing what he did was wrong but you could have handled it better yourself. “I let anger get the best of me again, that fucking realm has been rubbing off on me more than usual.” You think to yourself and sigh, hugging him and put your chin on his shoulder. “Aiden I get it, you were angry, sad, quite literally traumatized. You’re.. no, we’re still just teenagers, that shit was gruesome and I really understand that it upset you, yes the things you said were upsetting and could’ve been handled better but just so you know, I don’t hate you for it.” You say and get squeezed in the hug, making you pat his back; “Yeah, yeah, okay jeez Aiden chill.” You say and he chuckles; “No I’m never ever letting you go.” He says and you smile, looking at the time; “8 more hours..” You say and frown; “Aiden what if I just won’t be able to walk again in that realm, even if you somehow manage to stitch me up, that doesn’t guarantee anything.” You say and get shushed by a kiss on the lips; “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

Tyler Hernández

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🥀 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“So basically what you’re telling me is I have to be the look out while you guys go for the jeep?” You say and raise a brow as you throw your dynamite in the air letting it fall back in your hand and repeat that like a hundred times. Ashlyn nods and you sigh, grabbing the pitch of your nose; “You know I could potentially explode the jeep? You know dynamite isn’t exactly the best weapon for close combat.” I say and cross my arms over my chest, hoping that Ashlyn would come up with a better plan. Tyler nods along and sits down next to you on the floor of the bus. “Yeah and that shit is pretty dangerous if it explodes near you so what if a phantom attacks Y/N really close? She could get hurt.” He says and Ashlyn sigh, furrowing her brows since you have been planning this for about a week and suddenly the plans would be changing. “Everything will be fine, we have necessary recourses if anything goes wrong.” She says and everyone gets up, apart from you. You sit there and think about all the worst possible outcomes, knowing your own brother once got hurt by dynamite but recovered and still lives a fulfilling life.

Tyler stops in his tracks and looks at you, walking back to you and crouches in front of you. He lifts your chin to look at him and smiles at you; “Everything will be fine, you’re talented Y/N, not everyone can work explosives like you do.” You smile and stand up, hugging him tight and give him a quick kiss on the cheek; “Well, let’s knock these bitches dead.” You say and grab your dynamite and lighter, putting them in your pockets. Aiden ordered some suits online and bought a different one just for you since your weapon was dynamite. You can store them in a belt you have or pockets. It was nice of him but you really couldn’t stop thinking about how anything could go wrong. You finally shake off the thoughts and leave with everyone except Logan who would be near the base with a gun. Everyone runs to the house as “Party rock anthem” were heard in the background.

You smirk and get your dynamite in hand; “Let’s get this party started!” Aiden cheers and Tyler rolls his eyes, making Taylor laugh. “Take this seriously guys.” Tyler yells over the music and you just smile sheepishly as everyone runs into the house except for you like the plan was supposed to go. You turn on your headlamp so the phantoms can’t get that close. You see a group of them standing near the speakers where the song was playing, but you knew you didn’t have that much time before it stopped playing. You hear commotion behind you and see Ashlyn getting pulled up by a phantom. “Shit!” Aiden was standing there trying to get up to help her so you boost him up since you can’t really help unless they want an exploded house and a dead Ash on their hands. The commotion atracted a group of phantoms and they were a bit far because of the light you had turned on. You smirk and light your dynamite throwing it right at them. You cover your ears and let it explode, knowing that probably attracted more phantoms so you take another one out. Eyeing the area closely you hear the song end but see tha Aiden and Ashlyn managed to kill the phantom some how. You smile and give them a thumbs up.

You walk a bit farther from the entrance of the house and the jeep, lighting another dynamite and throw it at another group of phantoms. You walk back a bit so you don’t get exploded but don’t hear Ashlyn yelling for you to watch out when a phantom sneaks up on you. Your eyes widen and you shine a flashlight on it but you stumble back and start to hear loud ringing in your ears. You feel a warm liquid run from your upper leg. You look down and see a huge gash in your leg, maling you scream. You cough as dust and ash starts to fly around from the explosion. You sob and crawl closer to the jeep, seeing that phantoms were getting into the house; “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself and sob, sitting down next to the jeep, keeping an eye out for your surroundings. You tie your wound with a ripped piece of your pants and groan in pain as it tightens around your leg. You see everyone get out of the house and Tylers eyes widen when he sees you laying there, bleeding. “Holy shit, Y/N!” He yells and picks you up, everyone getting into the jeep fast as phantoms start to swarm the car. You sob into his shoulder as Taylor applies more pressure to your wound.

Everyone gets out of the car once Ash swerves into the graveyard and get you out of the car. Sobs and sniffles were heard as you cried your heart out from the pain. Tyler had your head in his lap and brushed hair from your face. He whispered sweet nothing into your ear and things like “It’s almost over.” “You’re doing great mi vida.” making you relax just a bit. Ashlyn was stitching your wound and that was the worst pain ever. “Okay, it’s done.” Ashlyn says and packs up the first aid kit, cleaning the blood off your leg and leaves so you and Tyler can be alone for a bit. You try and sit up but your arms give out, making you fall back into his lap. He puts an arm under your shoulder and lifts you up so you can sit next to him. He looked worried but had his brows furrowed and also looked a bit angry. He was mumbling curses in Spanish and sometimes mumbling something about the phantoms.

You lay your head on his chest and he kisses your head letting you rest after that traumatic event. You smile and start to talk; “Sorry, I should’ve been more careful.” You say and he chuckles a bit; “Yeah you should’ve, but things happen and you’re so brave for getting through that.” He says making you smile. “I should’ve been there to help although I probably would have made things worse, but still you get the point.” You nod and he stays silent for a while before he speaks up again; “I’m glad you’re okay, you really did such a good job at protecting us and don’t you think other wise you hear me?” He says in a stern voice and you nod, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah, if you think so.” You say and he pulls you closer “I know so.” He says and kisses your soft lips, making you forget all of the pain you once felt.

[drabblesandimagines]

Hi there, I would like to request Cloud, if thats okay. A sparring session that leads into an unexpected kiss?

Just read you are feeling under the weather, hope you feel better soon!

Sweet anon, I'm sorry this took me literally months! Please lemme know what you think x

It’s late as you leave your room at Stargazer Heights, pulling the door closed behind you with a gentle click. The weight of your new sword still feels unnervingly foreign on your back as you head down the stairs carefully, not wanting to disturb any of your neighbours’ sleep with your heavy footfalls.

Just because you couldn’t sleep didn’t mean theirs should suffer in return.

Your beloved, trusty sword, after many years of faithful service in the Watch, had snapped clean in two after a particularly good thwack against a hard-shelled creature whilst on a job in the scrapyard earlier that day. If that wasn’t enough, it just had to happen in front of Cloud Strife, the blonde ex-Soldier who had joined the Avalanche ranks - temporarily, at least – and who you were somewhat hoping to impress with your mastery of the blade as common ground over the past few weeks.

“You’d be good for him, you know?” Tifa had teased over the bar one night, catching you staring a little too long as he sat down the opposite end, nursing a drink. You’d have told her to hush if Barret’s voice wasn’t booming around the establishment, meaning you were lucky to have even heard her comment in the first place.

Instead, you answer flustered. “What? I… He’s your… No!”

“I don’t like him like that, sweetie.” She’d reassured, patting your hand with a smile. “Plus, I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

“Me?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t think he’s aware I exist, not with how Jessie has been all over him.”

“Mm.” Tifa purses her lips in thought before they pulled back into a knowing smile – she’d caught the merc’s gaze flickering in your direction before it settled back on the drink before him. “No, I think Cloud’s warming up to you. Let me see what I can do.”

“Tifa-“

Biggs’ warm hand wrapped around your arm and tugged you up from the bar and away from your protest in an instant. “Come on, you owe me a rematch and I’ve finally convinced Wedge to let us have a round.”

You concede, destroying Biggs at darts once again would be a good distraction from the blonde at the bar. Besides, what could Tifa do anyway?

--

What Tifa could do, apparently, was make it so whenever Cloud took on a job, Biggs or Wedge would insist you tag along to help him navigate the area – sometimes with Tifa, sometimes without – and that’s what had led you to today, stuck deep within the scrapyard with a broken blade.

You’d never been any good with your fists, nor could aim a gun straight – despite tips from Tifa and Biggs over the years – so, reluctantly, you’d been relegated to the back line for the rest of the outing. At the most, you could fling a spell or two from the materia still equipped in the broken hilt when you could.

Unfortunately, it meant you didn’t have anything really to defend yourself with whilst the materia recharged. A nasty hit from a retreating drake had sent you tumbling backwards, head literally over heels. It dived back down at you, realizing you were now easy prey, ready to go for a nasty bite when a certain blonde merc’s sword dug into its side, sending it flying over in Tifa’s direction who finished it off with a perfectly executed roundhouse kick – all before your life could flash before your eyes.

“Are you okay?” Cloud crouches in front of you, his sword already sheathed, and places a hand on your arm as he awaits your answer. His expression, usually stoic and unreadable, is marred by a slight furrow in his brow as he looks you over with concerned Mako-blue eyes.

He must find you at least tolerable, you’d decided, as he didn’t seem to protest as much when you joined them on jobs like this around the slums.

Though maybe not ever again after today’s pathetic display.

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling foolish. “Still in one piece. Thanks for that.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs and gets to his feet, offering you his hand in assistance.

You take it, relishing the feeling as his gloved fingers wrap around your palm. He pulls you up with a little too much gusto – or maybe underestimates his own strength - sending you stumbling forward. You try and catch your balance, only to find your hand placed firmly against his chest, his other hand now on the small of your back in alarm.

“Uh…”

“S-sorry,” you stutter out and retreat back, bowing your head as your face feels horrendously warm. Somewhere behind you, Tifa poorly attempts to hide a giggle.

“It’s fine.” His tone is back to his usual curt manner. “Come on - we should head back.” And without another word, Cloud spins on his heels and storms off ahead.

“Cloud, wait up!” Tifa calls, threading her arm through yours to pull you along with her. “He’ll get there – don’t worry.”

--

You’d taken the blade in to the weapons store below the Watch’s HQ after reporting in, Cloud and Tifa following behind. The proprietor dutifully inspected it for a few moments before deeming it beyond reasonable repair - said he could re-forge it, but it would only last a hit or two before it snapped in two again and he didn’t want the bad advertisement. He’d offered some gil for the scrap metal value and waved to the selection of his ready-made wares. Even with the gil he’d proposed and from your own pocket, the prices made your eyes water.

“Can I pay in instalments?”

He scoffs.

“You know I’m good for it.”

“This ain’t a charity, kid.”

“Here.” Cloud had stepped forward then, placing a pouch of gil on the counter. “That should cover it.”

“What?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. Cloud had been hounding Tifa and Barret for his pay for days and you knew he still hadn’t received all of it yet. “No, I couldn’t – that’s yours.”

“You need a weapon.” He shrugs, Tifa bouncing on her heels behind him at his act of generosity, a told you so smile plastered across her face. “Pay me back in instalments, if you want. I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods, crossing his arms. “You’re good with a blade, it would be a waste for you not to have one.”

Your scalp tingles at the compliment.

The blades all felt lighter - maybe you’d grown stronger over time? - though they were thinner in width in comparison to your old blade. You’d performed a cautionary test swing of each towards the back of the shop but they all felt off, unbalanced. Begrudgingly, one felt a little less odd to wield so you’d settled with that, thankful it was a mid-range price of the selection so you hadn’t needed the entirety of Cloud’s gil pouch.

“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can – I promise.”

Cloud shrugs, as usual.

--

You swing at the tower of boxes you’d assembled in the middle of the wasteland, trying to be precise and knock out the one in the middle, but as soon as you release the momentum you nearly lose your balance, missing entirely. If you were in combat, it would’ve been a pathetic sight to behold. Thankfully, you were the only one to wit-

“Hi.”

You jump, spinning on your heels to face the blonde mercenary, holding your blade aloft in a defensive stance to an unimpressed face.

“Cloud! Hi.” Your heart is pounding at his sudden arrival – how could you not have heard him approaching? You lower your blade to rest on the floor. “Sorry, did I wake you when I left?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep so I heard you leave.” He folds his arms, looking a little displeased. “You shouldn’t be out here on your own, you know? It’s not safe.”

“I wanted to get some practice in, that’s all.” You look down at the sword in your hand in demonstration. “There’s been no more wererats here since you cleaned out the nest either, so it’s safe enough.”

“It’s not just fiends I’m talking about.”

That’s true – unfortunately, you weren’t a complete stranger to the troopers that often patrolled the slums. All it took was one to recognize your face and you’d be dragged to Shinra HQ faster than you could blink.

“I really need to get used to the weight, though. Barret wants to strike any day and-“

“Fine. I’ll spar with you.”

You weren’t expecting that. “Really?”

“Why not?” He reaches back for his sword, before swinging it out in front of him playfully. “Unless you’re scared.”

You bite your lip in a smile. “Bring it on, Strife.”

Cloud holds back at first, acting more as a training dummy for you to swing at. He doesn’t even need to deflect any of your blows at the beginning, but as you become familiar with the weight and how the new blade swings, finally he starts to raise his sword in return, the sound of metal clashing echoing through the air before one firm blow sends you toppling back, the Buster Sword now inches above your neck.

“Better.” He pulls back his sword and offers you his hand, which you gratefully accept, bracing yourself for his strength this time to avoid what had happened that afternoon. “Try again.”

You’re not sure how much time passes like that, but steadily your confidence in your weapon grows and it turns into a proper sparring bout, both giving it your absolute all. As your blades clash, crossed in front of each other’s faces, you risk a smile at the blonde merc. Suddenly, Cloud’s forearms lose their tension, meaning you get an upperhand you were not expecting. You swing your sword out to the right and fall forward, Cloud toppling backwards, his sword to his right, and his head smacking into the ground as you fall on top of him.

“Oh… Shiva,” you gasp, heart pounding, your thighs somehow straddling around his. “Are you hurt?”

Cloud doesn’t reply, staring up at you in bemusement as he tries to catch his breath.

“Cloud?” You lean down, planting your hands either side of his head for balance.

He lifts his head, suddenly, and presses a kiss to your lips.

Your arms go limp and you drop into his embrace, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close as you return the kiss, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, fingers curling into his blonde hair, blissfully lost in the moment until there is an odd, inhuman sound from behind you.

Cloud sits bolt upright, twisting you as he does so you’re sat in his lap, one arm still wrapped tightly around your waist and, somehow, the Buster Sword back in his other hand as he holds it out in defense.

A cat sits a few meters in front of the two of you, flicking its tail back and forth curiously. You feel his muscles relax beneath your touch at the realization. You get to your feet then, grabbing your blade as you do so and securing it against your back. Though you feel flustered, you can’t turn down the opportunity to offer Cloud an assisting hand this time.

To your delight, he accepts, somehow twisting it as he stands in order to intertwine your fingers within his.

“We… We, er, should get back.” He mumbles.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

He leads you back through the tunnel, silently, fingers still laced, and back towards Stargazer Heights. You climb the stairs together before he brings you to a stop outside your door, hesitating. Your stomach twists – does he regret what happened? Are you just to wake up tomorrow morning and it will feel like nothing but a dream?

A firm squeeze of your hand brings you back to the present, as if he could read your thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about that for a while.” Cloud whispers, cautious of his voice carrying through the neighbours’ door. “It’s… unfortunate that we were interrupted.”

You place a hand on your door handle and smile, coyly. “Would you like to come in?”

Cloud smirks. “Do you have any pets?”

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[squoxle]

[10] GOOD BOY ~ L.YB

needy!felix x horny!reader

plot: after waking up horny as fuck, you strike a deal with your best friend Felix that he can’t pass up… | wc: 1.4k | cw: smut, situationship, cuddling, tit sucking, pussy eating, kissing, pet name

Felix had called you over late last night, and even though you didn’t do anything, you ended up sleeping next to each other.

The two of you started a sexual relationship about 2 months ago after one too many drinks led his dick inside of you. You couldn’t say that you hated it, and that was the reason it kept going.

Even though you could agree that he was cute and sweet, a relationship was the last thing on your mind. All you wanted was sex. And you made that very clear. So you found it strange when he called you last night just to sleep with him.

You woke up to see him nuzzled into your chest with one hand reached under your shirt, cupping your tit.

Finding his plump pouty lips and peaceful countenance somewhat attractive, you turned your body in his direction, wrapping your arm around him to play with his shaggy blonde hair.

You watched as his eyes fluttered open from your touch. “G’morning,” he hummed.

“Morning,” you smiled gently as he pressed his nose against yours. You felt his hand give your tit a gentle squeeze before he retracted it.

“Sorry for calling you over so late last night…I just didn’t feel like being alone.”

“It’s okay,” you shrugged.

“Thanks for coming…I really appreciate that,” he smiled before pecking you on the lips. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick and I’ll be back, okay,” he pulled the cover off of his body, climbing out of bed, before walking down the hall.

You couldn’t understand why looking at him seemed to turn you on so much but all you could think about right now was watching his pretty face get pussy drunk for you.

You reached your hand between your legs before circling your clit. You touched yourself while keeping that thought in mind, you pulled your fingers back, spitting on them before pushing them through your entrance.

A little part of you felt guilty that you were pleasuring yourself in his bed when he didn’t seem to have any sexual intentions, but the horny demon inside of you wanted him more.

“Hey, what’d you want for breakfast? I’m cooki—“ Felix paused in the doorframe as he saw you on his bed, laying there biting your lip with a lustful expression on your face. Soft, breathy moans escaping your lips.

“C’mere,” you hummed, directing him with your gaze.

“What’re you doing,” he asked, knowing damn well what was going on underneath that blanket.

“I hope you didn’t think I was gonna leave without getting off at least once,” you bit your lip, catching a moan in your chest. You watched as he pulled the covers back to see your fingers buried deep in your pussy.

“Can I…uhm?” He stuttered.

“Yes,” you shook your head, pulling your fingers out as his replaced the spot. You brought your fingers to his lips as he sucked your juices off, moaning just from the taste.

You looked over the edge of the bed seeing his dick hardening through his pants. The sight made you even more horny as you watched him lick his lips. But it also gave you an idea.

You watched as he pulled his fingers out, sucking them before pushing them back inside of you. Just as he loosened the string on his sweatpants you stopped him. “Ah ah, since you didn’t fuck me last night, you don’t get to fuck me now.”

“B-but I—“

“Nope. I want you to get me off and if you do a really good job and make me cum, THEN I’ll let you fuck me,” you smiled.

“Hmm…okay,” he hummed before going under the covers to lick between your legs.

“Mmm,” you moaned at the textured sensation of his tongue. He climbed over you, hovering over you as your legs raised. He leaned in to kiss your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he dry humped you, moaning as he satisfied himself and you at the same time.

As good as it felt, you had to keep him in line. You grabbed his chin, stopping him in his tracks. “What do you think you’re doing, huh? You’re supposed to get me off first and then it’ll be your turn. Not before.”

“I-I know but I just—“

“You were trying to find a loophole,” you chuckled as he pouted before raising his hips up.

“Spit in my mouth,” he hummed.

“What?”

“Spit in my mouth, please,” he opened his mouth, eagerly waiting for your saliva. Fuck, whenever he said please like that you just wanted to ride that pretty boy until he cums all inside your pussy.

Just the thought of feeling his body shake beneath you was enough to tell him to just use his dick right now.

But those weren’t the rules…

You spit onto his tongue as he pulled it into his mouth, crawling back between your legs before spitting directly on your clit.

You were using him to play out the fantasy in your head and it was turning out better than you expected.

He sucked on your clit, pulling his fingers in and out as wetness dropped down to the sheets. “Mmm, you’re so fucking wet,” he hummed as you felt the vibrations from his voice.

He pulled his fingers out, using his thumb to stimulate your clit as he slipped his tongue in. You felt it worm up inside of you as you threw your head back, moaning with pleasure.

“Do you like that?” He asked, licking your entrance.

“Mhm,” you nodded as he lowered his head and moved his tongue faster. “Uhnn, fuck baby,” you moaned. He moved his lips, pushing his fingers back in before raising your shirt to suck on your tit.

“Ngh!” You raised your chest as you felt yourself about to cum.

You felt the warm wetness of his lips sucking on the flesh of your chest as he fucked you harder and faster. A high-pitched whine escaped your lips as the feeling intensified. “Fuck, you sound so pretty,” Felix cooed from between your tits as he moved up to your neck.

“Please cum baby so I can fill your pretty little cunt and watch it drip out,” the way he was talking to you right now made you want to cum immediately, but you wanted to enjoy the feeling for a bit longer.

He lowered down as he gripped onto the outsides of your thighs. He squeezed them as you gripped onto his hair. His nose grazing your clit as he moaned with every lick.

You pulled his head up to see your release all over his face as he stuck his tongue back out before going down on you again. He kept eye contact with you as you moaned, cumming hard as your body shook.

He held your lower half in place as he kept licking and sucking your pussy to help you ride out your orgasm. “Good boy,” you patted his head as you caught your breath.

“Now can I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you chuckled as he quickly pulled his pants down, slamming his dick into your pussy.

He grunted as he pumped into you quickly, gripping your hips and raising them to angle your hole with his dick. He lowered your body back onto the mattress as he pressed onto your lower abdomen. You felt his dick going in and out of you as he panted with broken moans escaping his lips.

You couldn’t help but moan with him as he used you like a sex doll. He leaned forward, pulling your legs back and fucking deeper into your throbbing cunt. He whined as he came inside you, pumping faster as he filled you up.

You pushed his cum out, causing it to drip down your ass as he pulled out. He plopped down next to you as the two of you laid next to each other.

“_____,” he called your name.

“What?”

“Can I tell you something…”

“Sure.”

“I hope it doesn’t make you feel weird or anything…”

“Just say it already.”

“I can’t cum without you,” he lowered his gaze as you looked at him.

“What…”

“I don’t know why…I just can’t do it unless you’re here with me…”

You knew what this meant, but you didn’t want it to be true.

“I think it’s because…I like you…”

𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

@chlorinecake

@wonbinisbabygurl

@nishiimuranights

@wildflowermooon

@heeseungshim

@ramyeonzprincess

@bangchans-gf5

@wand3rlustm3

@heeseunghee7

@norihoyeon

@gacktsa

[iateyourparents]

Hi!!! Could you write for Jake or johnnie? For Jake him and the reader are trying food in his car during one of his lives and he keeps spilling stuff and throwing it outside, or for johnnie it could be him singing to the reader during a live and have it be all cute? Thank you!!

late night talking | j.w.

pairing: jake webber x fem!reader

summary: you can’t sleep and jake finds something to do for both of you.

warnings: the restaurant is made up by me, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: thank you! i decided to go with jake. hope you like it <33

pictures are from pinterest:)

“Jake?” you asked quietly to check if your boyfriend was asleep.

“Hm?” he mumbled while turning his body so you were face to face.

It was almost two in the morning and you just couldn’t fall asleep, you didn’t feel tired and your mind was giving you many ideas of what you could be doing right now instead of wasting time and just laying there.

“I can’t sleep.” even though Jake couldn’t see you with how dark it was, he just knew you were pouting and just an image of this in his head made him want to coo and hug you.

“Me neither.” he stated and after a moment of comfortable silence he offered “We could go for a drive.”

“Yes please.” not wasting any time you got up from the bed and went to take your hoodie, well Jake’s hoodie. Jake laughed silently but followed your lead. Soon enough you were sitting in his car driving through random streets.

After few minutes you offered “We could go live on instagram.”

Jake looked at you with w smirk “Testing food?”

“Oh my god, yes!” you loved testing food with Jake, it was always funny and somewhat cute.

Jake took his phone and gave it to you, so you could start live on his instagram.

Not even a few seconds after starting, there was already about 700 people.

“Hi guys.” you smiled widely trying to position Jake’s phone on the dashboard “We couldn’t sleep so we decided to entertain you a little.”

“Yeah, we will be trying food from somewhere.” Jake added “You can write in comments where do you think we should go to eat something.”

After few minutes of answering questions and looking through comments you drew Jake’s attention “Oh, Zola said we should try Orlando’s. It’s like a more elegant fast food, in her words.”

“Oh okay.” Jake nodded and you quickly looked for the location of said restaurant on your phone and then you gave it to Jake so he could drive you there. “Oh it’s actually really near.”

You answered some of fans’ questions while Jake drove you to your destination and then he parked near drive-thru so you could have a look on a menu.

“So it’s really late so we won’t take the whole menu but you can write your recommendations if you’ve been here before.” Jake told his viewers while you were looking at the website.

“I really want to try their apple pie.” you stated looking at the photo and then you showed it to the people on live “It looks yummy.”

Few minutes later you had your order in the car and Jake decided to park on a parking area near restaurant so you could start testing.

“What do we start with?” you asked giving him his drink.

“What do you feel like might be good?” he looked at you with a smile and kissed your cheek.

“Hm… This pizza smells good.” you stated and he took pizza box on his laps. He opened it and showed it to viewers.

“Smells good but looks are 4/10.” he decided and you definitely agreed. This pizza didn’t look the best. “Let’s try it.”

And let’s just said, Jake ended up throwing pizza, nuggets, two pies and milkshakes out of the car.

“At least fries were good.” you shrugged hugging Jake’s arm. He kissed your forehead.

“So we definitely don’t recommend this restaurant. If you like it then you have shitty taste, literally.” you both laughed “We will be ending this live in a moment and go to eat something actually edible but thank you for being with us.”

“But no thanks to the person who made us eat this shit.” you joked and Jake giggled.

“See you soon guys.” Jake ended the live and hugged you “Let’s just go home and make cocoa hm?”

“Yes please.” you yawned and buckled yourself after kissing Jake.

Soon you were in your apartment cuddling on the couch with Jake and sipping hot cocoa.

“We kind of wasted night for this shitty food.” Jake pouted placing his head on your shoulder.

“We did, but I could waste all my nights like this with you.” you pecked his lips.

You liked sleepless nights like this.

[littleakito]

HI HI HI HI HI. Angsty Dazai headcanons? Pretty please! With sprinkles on top even!

╰╮﹕★﹒ANGSTY LITTLE! DAZAI HEADCANNONS﹒🩹 TW WARNING.

AVERAGE DAZAI SHENANIGANS (suicide, sh, etc.), MENTIONS OF FORCED INJURY, EXTREME SELF LOATHING & SELF HATRED, DEHUMANIZATION. NOT TO BE READ WHEN REGRESSED (unless you like. hate yourself I guess? do what you want <3)

HEED THE WARNINGS.

୨୧ ：aah! finally getting to this hehehh.. I would have gotten to it sooner! but I need to be in an awfully specific mood to write angst.. tis odd! also! no cherry on top!!?!?! smh… /silly sprinkles are great though, sounds delicious mmmm..

1　 ﹒　Despising pain so much is quite a struggle when your brain has so much hatred towards yourself it begins to physically hurt, they say that once you grow hungry enough, you begin to eat your own heart. Dazai doesn’t have one of those, last he checked. So instead, his body begins to sacrifice his mindset for one of a much, much younger person.

It’s scary, even scarier when your anxiety is running rampant and rapid, coursing through your veins at an all time high. Vulnerability shouldn’t be such a scary thing, but when your most memorable experience with such is having your arms sliced open on a vivisection table, and tubes shoved down your throat, you begin to despise letting people see you as so.. small.

It’s even worse when you mentally feel so little, and the world around you begins to look like tall, scary faces, watching your every move.

2　 ﹒　Being oh so used to tainting all that he touches is rather tough, I feel as if he’s broken a pacifier before and had an absolute panic attack, god forbid someone allows him to hold a cup whilst he’s somewhat fuzzy, things will begin to blur the lines between sitting in Mori’s office, and being right in front of his caregiver.

3　 ﹒　When he betrayed the Port Mafia, he lost Chuuya. I wouldn’t entirely say that Chuuya was his “caregiver”, due to their oh so complicated relationship, but I would say that Chuuya was the closest thing he’s ever had to one. They’re both rotten, but that doesn’t entirely matter when you feel so sweet next to one another.

Whenever Dazai would begin to wish for him by his side, he would grow so much self hatred, how could he want something? How could he ever allow himself that treat of comfort, when he’s done nothing but be an awful, awful human being(? Is he even that, anymore?) towards both himself, and everyone around him.

He’s been biting and snapping at others for so long, that he’s begun to forget he, too, was bitten himself. That sorrow that taints him is a product of another person, who cherished him, yet only for his inability to feel cherished, and understand emotions in the first place, for that matter.

4　 ﹒　After time, if he ever began to feel even a little more comfortable in that state, he would begin to have extreme night terrors of his regression. He would begin to despise it, anything that brings him comfort should be banished, after-all. If he had a specific love for a certain toy or drink or stuffie, he would cry himself to sleep in a corner without it, all in punishment for existing in the first place.

If whatever god is out there created Dazai with the purpose of making a self loathing success of a black hole, destined to be hungry for love whilst tainting those around him, for all of eternity, they certainly are a master in their field.

୨୧ ：projected a lil too hard with my lil man methinks, anywho, I hope this is okay and at least partially in character! thank you sososo much for your request, ash! ‘twas fulfilling!

HEADER READS: “LITTLE DAZAI HEADCANNONS”

DNI BANNER READS “NSFW DNI” “HEY, DID YOU HEAR ME?” “CHILD SAFE BLOG”

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎHalf Life⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: depression, animal abandonment pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you aren't the same after you were kidnapped author’s note: I'm half dead, I hope this is good <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sky was dark, the grayness of it expanding as far as the eye could see with the promise of rain. It painted everything near in a melancholy shadow, like the world was a ghost of itself.

This was not the way Billy had hoped to bring you home.

As he ushered you through the open space between his horse and the house, standing like a figure in the distance, he noticed the door was ajar. The miniscule detail heightened the already-present guilt inside him, but he pushed it down deep, instead focusing on you.

Rubbing your shoulders comfortingly, Billy ensured your steps were steady as he guided you up the stairs, nudging at the gap in the door with his foot to open it without letting go of you. The deafening quiet of the house met his ears, and he nearly cringed at the emptiness of it. Billy had really only ever known these four walls to hold light and laughter and love, three things always associated with you. The girl under his arm was a mere notion of that, nothing more.

Images of you tied, gagged, and crying invaded Billy's vision, and he tried to shake them away as he shut the door behind you. The last day had been tumultuous, overflowing with worry. Memories didn't come forth, only brief images accompanied by emotion. He'd ridden like mad trying to find you, cursing the roots of the ones who'd taken his girl away from him.

He didn't want to think about that right now. About the bloodbath that had ensued, about the sight of your fear-stricken body taut in his arms. Blinking once, Billy re-twined his arm around you, rubbing your side and dropping a kiss to your silken hair. Still soft after your whole ordeal.

You turned to face him, and he went numb at the look in your eyes. Stolen joy, replaced with an awful replica, a renewed safety that didn't fill near the space of what had been taken. Billy squeezed your hip, lifting his hand to trace the apple of your cheek. "It's okay." They were the only words he could think to breathe into the tension of the air.

The gentle padding of little footsteps descended, and the next thing Billy knew, the body of your cat, fur dark as midnight, was rubbing against his legs, weaving in and around them like the path of a river. A smile crossed Billy as he realized, and he looked to you somewhat excitedly. "Look, sweetheart, it's Fish. Bet he's missed you."

Your body gave a jolt when the cat nudged his furry face into your calf, as if to ask where you'd been. Billy's face fell into worry when you didn't bend to scratch Fish's ears or pick him up as he'd thought you would. Instead, your face was pressed to his chest, fingers clenching the leather of one suspender in an attempt to pull him closer somehow.

Fish seemed put off, sitting on his hind legs and craning his neck up as he meowed. All Billy could do was look helplessly at the little creature over your shoulder, fingers caressing the length of your spine as he attempted to inject comfort into you through his touch. After such a spot of trauma, he'd thought, hoped that your beloved pet would bring you some semblance of normalcy.

The afternoon bled into night, darkening the corners of the earth and further leading you into dread for the sleep ahead. Billy managed to coax you into bed, your spot between his arms beckoning. He promised that you didn't have to sleep, but it'd do you some good to at least lie down. Holding you, he tried to ignore the angry welts where the ropes had stung at your wrists, the marks for which there was no balm except time.

Your eyes were open, hair spread across his chest like a splayed, outstretched wildflower. He sifted his fingers through it, letting the quiet linger. He wore no shirt, knowing how much you loved having his skin right against yours. Maybe it would inspire sleep; that feeling of being comfortable.

Billy hated feeling helpless, but there was hardly anything else to do. there were things floating in your mind that he couldn't fix. There was very little to resolve with his capabilities. For now all he could do was hold you, guarantee your safety.

There was a little mew, and then light pressure on the mattress as Fish sprang up onto the bed. Normally it was a routine- Billy would fix himself against your back, arms slung around your waist, and Fish would curl up on your other side. You'd been falling asleep with him like that for longer than Billy had known you, and so when he began to occupy the same bed he simply adjusted himself around it. It was a cozy thing; the image of you cuddling with both him and the cat.

Right now, your stomach was pressed to Billy's side, ear resting on his heart. Fish pushed his head against your back, wanting you to turn around. But you were still, seemingly immune to the cat's wishes.

After a few tries, Fish gave up, opting to pad over to Billy's side and slump defeatedly by his hip. He lifted a hand, trailing his fingers over Fish's head, trying to convey that you didn't mean it, that you just weren't feeling your best. The poor creature didn't even know what happened.

All he knew was that his favorite person in the world was refusing to even look at him.

Everything about healing is arduous. If it happens too quickly, it didn't happen right. Billy tried to keep this in mind as he marched through every day, holding your hand through some, but carrying you most.

The nightmares. Every time you drifted into sleep, Billy hoped it would be a longer stretch than the previous night before you were inevitably woken by strains of the subconscious. He'd hear the familiar strains of sniffling, feel teardrops rain on his chest, and just know.

"Shh, sweet girl," Billy murmured one night after a particularly harrowing dream, fitting his palm under your nightdress over your back and hoping the heat of it would bring you down. "'S okay. I've gotcha. You're safe, I'm here."

You gasped, letting out a little sob that broke his heart. Billy dressed you in his arms, fingers falling over you like the petals of a flower kissing the bud. He held you tight, his body a shelter to your internal storms. It was a strange thing to hide from something inside by gravitating outward.

What truly saddened Billy was the clear contrast between your former and current being. When he'd met you, it was as if you were the goddess of spring herself, a sunbeam fallen to earth with the sole intention of brightening it. He swore flowers sprung up in your path, everything you touched glittered.

Now you were somber, retreated into the oceans of your own feelings. How swiftly your demeanor had changed in the wake of the horrible event of your kidnapping. With every crystally pearl that slipped from your formerly bright eyes, every shudder that racked you when he extended a comforting hand to your arm, he wished he hadn't been so swift in ending the lives of those who'd persecuted you. They deserved something slower, a twisting knife so they knew exactly what they'd done.

He reached for your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap and lower your head to his shoulder. Stretching a palm across your back, Billy began to tilt his body back and forth, rocking you soothingly and whispering, "Was just a dream, baby. 's all over now. You're gonna be okay." You let out a shuddering gasp, burying your face in his chest as the aftershocks of your nightmare shook your body.

Fish sleepily lifted his head from where he was sleeping at Billy's side, seeming to notice your distress. He arched his back in a stretch that nearly made him vibrate, pressing his cheek to your elbow. The touch made you stiffen, and you burrowed further into Billy, avoiding the cat's touch. That same stab of secondhand guilt cut him, and he exhaled softly, digging his nose into your hair. He wasn't the only one saddened by your troubles as of late.

Days pooled themselves, saving up to become weeks, and Billy was worried by your state. The nightmares continued, disturbing your sleep sometimes multiple times after dark. Aside from that, you were nearly a ghost when the sun was up, hardly lucid, tethered to the rock of that horrible day when you'd been taken.

You were rapidly losing weight, your skin paling. He was diligent about feeding you, but you ate very little. The pillars of your light were burning out one by one, as much as he could see you didn't want them to.

Drawn and quiet, your days were filled with the sound of silence. You occupied yourself half-heartedly with light tasks, and it instilled an ache in him- how diligently you tried to resume normalcy. He watched you sew and read and prepare meals, trying to resume your life as it was before. But all it seemed to do was push you further adrift in your sorrow.

Even the simplest of tasks, like brushing your hair, could send you into a fit of tears. That time, he'd heard the hairbrush clatter to the floor and sprang to his feet, racing to your side and gathering you in his arms. You were falling and he was trying desperately to hold you up.

The situation with Fish only grew worse. You outright refused to interact with the poor cat at all. He meowed at you for love and you ignored him, not even turning your head.

The poor cat would come pitifully to Billy after each rejection, tail metaphorically between his legs. Fish was long used to being shown nothing but love by you, and this sudden turn must have been jarring for him. It was a strange thing for Billy to behold as well. The sight of you cuddling the cat, even giving him kisses, was as ordinary as the sky's color before the events of your kidnapping. Things had changed, and not for the better.

Every night, Fish reattempted to resume the routine with you, meowing and trying to lay against you. And every night you would turn away from him, your back a cold declination.

He would have thought you were being cruel. But he knew you were hurting, that the pain was creeping in and making a home in your bones. The woman he loved wouldn't hurt anything on purpose. And so he took up the duty of comforting your cat, holding you with one arm and scratching Fish behind the ears with his opposite hand.

One night as you were lying facing him on the pillows, head nestled in the crook of your arm, you murmured, "You don't need to supervise me all the time, you know. You could go back to work."

Billy lifted his head, his thumb stroking the inside of your elbow. "Not when you're not feelin' well," he whispered. "Sweetheart, I'm tryin' to take care of you."

"It must be exhausting." You shifted on your side. "Constantly watching me." Your words were spoken dully, with little tone and even less volume.

Letting out a breath, Billy propped himself up on an elbow, searching your eyes. He held your hand between you, running the pad of his finger over the bump of your knuckles. "Exhausting? No. Never. But I'm worried, darlin'. 'bout you."

You turned on your back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm fine."

The flat delivery of your words was almost worse than if you'd screamed them. He let out a humorless laugh. "Sweeheart, you ain't been fine in weeks. You won't eat or speak...you won't even pet your cat."

His words rendered you silent, and you searched the ceiling as if it held the answers to life's greatest questions. Fish chose this moment to leap onto the bed, pawing at your thigh. Something seemed to snap in you, and you swept a hand out, pushing him away. "Stop it, Fish."

Billy frowned, sitting up and letting the covers fall to his thighs. "Baby, don't take it out on the cat. He ain't done nothin', just tryna give you love." Fish approached you again, and you huffed, turning away. Billy shook his head, his heart clenching. "Honey, c'mon now."

You sat up and drew your legs to your chest, like two spindly branches folding in the wind. Burying your face in your knees, you took in a shaky staccato breath, nails digging into your skin. Billy reached out a hand, rubbing it up and down your back. Your behavior had long since crossed over into the territory of being out of character. It was as if a ghost had inhabited the space you once took up.

He was well aware of what you were doing, even if it wasn't purposeful. Shutting out the world, pushing him away. You were a spectre lying in the bed where his sweetheart used to sleep. Billy sat there in silence, recalling how many times he'd attempted to maneuver you out of yourself again. And he wondered if that version of you was even still there.

Then you sniffled, lifting your head and reaching out for him. He could read the early signs of tears, sense the ache that resided within you. And in an instant, all doubts ceased. His girl was still in there. She had to be.

Billy's arms encircled you, pulling you tight into his body and tucking your head under his chin. When your face was buried in his chest, your body began to shake, little tremors cutting through your being. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you." Your voice was edged with sobs the way curtains were with lace.

The words tore right through him as if he were the page of a book, and he pressed his lips into your hair. "Shhh...don't apologize. I love you too, I love you so much. I just wish you'd let me in, my love. Let me help you."

"I don't wanna hurt you..." you choked, trembling under his gentle touch. "I can't get better..."

"Hey...that ain't true, baby," Billy whispered, his brow furrowing. "You can-"

"I don't deserve to get better," you sniffled. That sentence broke his heart worse than anything that had happened thus far.

Billy drew you close, nuzzling his cheek against your head. "My love, you deserve every good thing in the world." He pulled back for a moment, tilting your tearstained face up so he could see your eyes. "'n gettin' better's a damn good thing."

Your lower lip trembled just slightly, and Billy stroked your hair. It was devastatingly clear how badly you were hurting. So he gave you the only thing he truly knew how to do. Love.

He swaddled you in his arms, and you clung to him, nudging yourself close. Stroking your waist, Billy eased gentle kisses into your hair. "I'm here," he murmured. "I ain't goin' anywhere, sweet girl. 'm here."

Fish didn't even try to go to you that night. He just went straight to Billy.

Like a flower, you had been withering, petals stiffening and crinkling, floating down to the ground at your feet. He could see how frozen you were in your sad metamorphosis, clawing desperately at your own skin to get out of it.

He saw it in the way you looked at Fish, curled up against his leg. It was obvious how awful you felt about your maltreatment of the cat, but you were too lost in the waves of your depression to pull out and fix it. Billy grasped at the shreds of you left behind, tried to piece them together and show you the beauty of them.

He saw it in the way you clung to him, the love you felt a facet of yourself you'd never let go of. And he was glad for that, more than anything. It gave him hope. Love could solve anything with time and patience, he knew.

And so, he gave it tenfold, covering you in kisses and in cuddles. He made sure to hold you tight in the morning, especially after a rough night, whispering his love for you over and over again. Though he tried to hide it, his affections held a desperate edge. With every touch he seemed to whisper, please come back to me.

Over time, little signs seemed to reveal themselves, signs you were getting better. It was like seeing the first sparkle of a lake at sunrise, like witnessing a flower open its petals. You began to come to life again. He didn't comment on it, worried it would cause you to retreat back into yourself or tease out any worries. Instead, he continued to love on you.

He noticed you standing on the porch at sunset one evening, looking out into the cloudy sky streaked with orange. There was a light sheen of rain drizzling over the earth, and you seemed transfixed by it. Billy leaned against the doorway, silently watching you extend a hand, tentatively letting the rain kiss your fingers.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, a tiny smile twitched at your lips.

It was like seeing the sun after a storm, like the first sign of hope in a crisis. Billy felt it hit him like a bolt of lightning, bubbling in his chest and threatening to spill over. His eyes stayed glued to you, sure it was a trick of the light, a flicker that would fade into black.

But then you turned to him, corners of your mouth turning up more by the minute. And he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Billy moved forward, bridging the gap and pulling you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, emotion welling up in his being and overflowing into his actions.

You slid your arms around him, seeming confused. “Billy? What is it?” The rain was pouring harder, beating against the roof of the porch in the same rhythm as his heart.

Hope was coursing through him in a river. He was too overwhelmed to speak for a moment. When he finally found his words, all he could manage was “You’re…you’re smilin’.”

Your features softened. “Oh, Billy.”

His fingers tangled in your hair, heel of his palm on your cheek. You tilted your head up, nudging your nose against him. He saw daylight in your eyes, something golden and bright on the horizon. Billy felt like it was the first time he’d ever seen you, like he was a younger man dizzy under the spell of new love. And he let himself get hit over and over again.

“My sweet girl,” he breathed, searching your eyes. “My baby…”

You lifted yourself on your tiptoes, brushing your lips gently against his. Billy pressed his body to yours, holding you close as you smiled into the kiss. He caressed you like your body was built from gold, breathed into life by angels.

The sight of you smiling, kissing him, the beginnings of light brightening your entire being, spurred his actions, and his mouth dragged against yours, holding you in a kiss that stopped time. He pressed little pecks to your parted lips. “My sweet girl…my beautiful girl…”

You held to him, body practically melting against his. Arms encircling your waist, Billy breathed easy. Tilting your head up, you murmured, “You never gave up on me.”

“Never,” he responded instantly, nudging his lips to your forehead. “You’re a part of me. Lettin’ go of you would be like lettin’ go of my heart.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did,” you whispered, cheek on his shoulder. “I’ve been exhausting. And difficult. And unresponsive.”

“You were hurtin’,” Billy shook his head, lavishing another kiss to the border of your hairline. "You went through a bad thing. Anybody woulda reacted the same way."

"But I hurt you," you whispered, horror outlining your words. "And I hurt Fish..." Saying it out loud seemed to weaken you, and Billy held fast to your figure. "I pushed him..."

"Hey...hey, sweetheart, it's okay," Billy said softly, caressing your cheek. "It's okay. Me 'n Fish knew it wasn't personal. We knew our girl was in there somewhere." His hand traced the line of your jaw, reveling in the sight of the beginnings of healing. "We knew you'd come back to us. And even if you didn't, we'd love you anyways."

Every word that poured from his lips was knotted with sincerity, painting an idyllic picture that seemed to wash over you. The rain was slowing down, and you were breathing steady, and Billy swore he could see your soul glowing from the inside out, as if you were stardust. He wouldn't have been surprised if you were.

Between the sheets, your phantoms were stilled for the night, and you laid peacefully in his arms, like the space between them had been carved to fit you. Your name was the title of his story, your handwriting in the margins, your pen underlining his captivation. A week ago he would have thought this an illusion. His girl, happy beginning to seep back into her veins where it belonged.

The familiar thump on the mattress signaled Fish's nightly arrival, and he padded over to you, meowing curiously and half-heartedly rubbing his cheek to your shoulder. Billy exhaled softly, preparing to comfort the cat from your actions borne of grief.

But you reached out a hand, tracing a finger under Fish's cheek and smiling when he began to purr, stretching his neck so your nail would scratch the sweet spot on his neck. You shifted in Billy's arms, so your back was to his chest and his arms were folded over your belly.

Your movements were careful, almost as if you were waiting for the cat's forgiveness. But Fish curled around you like nothing had changed since the night before you were taken, the pleasant vibration of his purring filling the air. Breathing a laugh of delight, you held the cat close to your chest, stroking his head as you eased back into your place.

Billy felt his heart swell at the sight, and he squeezed you to his chest, kissing your temple and taking in the picture he'd have burned into his eyes for eternity if he could. The rough terrain was smoothing out, the seas ahead were tranquil. Spring was resting its soft hand upon the earth and you were healing bit by bit, washed anew by the rain.

All was right with the world.

[couldyouimagine-that]

Safe With Me

Genre; hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count; 1.0k

Warnings; talk of nightmares, nothing described.

Pairing; Dean Winchester x Reader

Reader is woken up by a nightmare and asks Dean to let them stay with him.

I hope this is a somewhat relaxing story (I think it is) and also I really enjoyed writing a sleepy Dean. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

-

You regained consciousness with a deep gasp, adrenaline running through you and your breathing much heavier than it should have been. Your room was dark, the covers on your bed pushed down around your legs where you had no doubt been thrashing in your sleep. you gave yourself a moment to remember where you were, that you were safe and nothing was wrong. It served to calm you a little, but you realised it hadn’t really helped at all when you closed your eyes and were immediately confronted with the horrors from your nightmare. You turned on your side as you started trying to go back to sleep, but the images in your mind’s eye were shockingly vivid and more persistent than you could ever remember a dream being. It was almost like you had never even woken up.

Chased by your own imagination, you lurched towards the switch of the lamp on your bedside table. You were a hardened hunter, acclimatised to violence and risking your life on an almost daily basis – but even you felt a pulse of relief when light flooded your room and there was nothing there but you. You glanced around regardless, just to make sure, and only laying back when you were satisfied that you were truly alone. Then, of course, it was your isolation that became the problem. Each time you closed your eyes, even with the light on, you only saw the returning nightmare. You went through the repeating cycle of trying to sleep and trying not to, even as tiredness began to pull at your eyes, and you eventually realised that rest was going to allude you.

With a tired huff, you sat up on top of the covers and resigned yourself to being completely awake, at least for the moment. You knew you wouldn’t get back to sleep on your own and you didn’t want to run on so little rest for yet another night in a row, which left you with one other option. You did feel a small jolt of nerves at what Dean might think, but it took you very little time to decide that he probably wouldn’t mind. Even if he did, you reasoned, you could talk about it and try to explain it away in the morning when you could think a bit more clearly.

You slipped through your door without wasting another moment and padded along the corridor on bare feet until you got to Dean’s door, knocking a few times before slowly pushing it open. A narrow beam of light shone into his room and you squinted as your eyes adjusted to the lower light on the other side, just able to discern the outline of Dean beneath his comforter. He was laying on his side, one arm visible and the other tucked beneath his pillow. You murmured his name from your place by the door, calling it a little louder when he didn’t stir. You wouldn’t approach him while he was still asleep, knowing you would be met with the barrel of a gun if you woke him too suddenly.

Dean grunted lowly at the third call of his name, shifting slightly more onto his back to look towards you, face screwed up against both the light and the intrusion on his sleep. He blinked once, slowly, eyes still mostly closed.

“Y/N?” You smiled gently at his sleep-roughened voice.

“Hey, Dean.” He pulled himself up a bit further to lean on his elbow, his other arm resting on top of the comforter and across his ribs.

“‘S goin’ on?” Your grip tightened on the door handle as you thought briefly about how silly you were going to sound, but you had already woken him up. It really was too late.

“I um… I had a bad dream.” You scoffed lightly at your own words, the sound self-deprecating. “I just – would it be okay if I slept in here with you?”

Dean flopped onto his back, eyes already closed again, and raised his arm without a word. You pushed his door closed and crossed his room quietly, slipping under the covers like it was the most natural thing in the world. His warmth was a soft comfort as you slotted yourself beneath his arm, sighing in content as he curled it around you and pulled you close to him. You felt a hum reverberate through his chest as his other hand landed on your hip, rubbing up and down a few times. His movements were direct, tiredness allowing his strength to come through just a little more than usual – you liked the feeling.

“S’alright sweetheart,” he murmured, words blurring together. “You’re safe with me.” His breath moved your hair as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, then shifted down in the bed to get comfortable, taking you with him.

Your nightmare didn’t even cross your mind as you closed your eyes, your head resting on one of Dean’s shoulders and your hand running over the other one. His breathing slowed in no time and sleep slowly pulled you under as you listened to Dean’s strong heartbeat, relaxed into the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you. As he drifted off, his arm became a comfortable weight where it crossed your shoulder and rested over your back. A light smile curved your lips as you felt yourself joining him in a real, restful slumber more quickly than you could ever recall managing before.

Unbeknownst to you, Dean had been able to hold onto a sliver of consciousness for a little while longer, just enough to make sure you fell asleep without meeting any more difficulties or worries. It was only when he squeezed you and got no response that he finally let go of it, secure in the knowledge that he would be there for you if anything frightened you again. The thought of you coming to him when you needed someone made a little warmth bloom fondly in his chest, and he simply enjoyed the feeling of you laying securely in his arms as he finally surrendered to sleep.

[kmazine]

[ 02:41 AM ]

You open your eyes when you felt Seungcheol jolted awake beside you with a low panicked yelp. Despite the dim light in your bedroom, you can see he broke in a cold sweat.

"Bad dream?" You sit up, slowly rubbing your hand up and down, hoping that will help him calm. Another hand wiping the cold sweat on his forehead. He rubs his face with his palm roughly before taking a deep breath. You start to glide your fingers up and down the back on his neck.

"Yeah..." He give you a weak nod. He's not the type to have nightmare, but when he does, it can be pretty intense. You want to ask him but you know that can wait. He'll share with you in the morning anyway. Your priority right now is to soothe him, to calm him.

You decided to get off the bed but Seungcheol was faster, he grabs you by your waist and pulls you into the embrace.

"Don't go. Stay"

"I'll just go get you a glass of water okay?" You gently rub his arms, trying to pull his arms away but he didn't budge.

"Stay" He whispers.

So you decided to stay still and hug him back as tight as you can. You smile when you can feel his body loosened after a while as he rest his head on your shoulder.

"I don't want water. Let's just get back to sleep." He say when you try to move again, as if he can read your mind, and pulls away from the hug, gap enough for him to look at your face. You nod after he give you the reassurance smile before stamped his lips on your forehead.

"Okay. let's get back to sleep then" You ran your hand through his ruffled hair, glad to see the frown on his face gone.

Both of you snuggles, with his arm around your waist, your back against his chest.

"Sorry for waking you up, love" He whispers.

"It's fine. I prefer to be the one that can comfort you anyway." You assure him.

"You always do. I love you" Seungcheol pulls you to his frame closer and pressed his lips on your shoulder. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck seconds before both of you drifting back to sleep.

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[ my other works / masterlist ]

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a.n : I'm having nightmares lately and I hate waking up at night but also at least waking up "free" me from the nightmare (interestingly enough I never jolted or having any physical reaction when I woke up. It's just I slowly start to wake up and it's somewhat annoying because it takes time to get to open my eyes, still got into cold sweat though.) Yes this is me writing because I couldn't get back to sleep lol

Enough with my stupid rambling, like always, please ignore the grammatical mistakes and typos, I'll fix it after I back to check from time to time.

And I hope you enjoy this one.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi. I have a pretty specific request for Kaz x reader. Basically, the reader was a part of the dregs for some time, well acquainted with Kaz, Nina and Inej (and Jesper, though I don't remember when he dropped studies and joined, but like yeah). After some time (2 years?) the reader is sent off to a job that causes them not to run into the main group a lot. For half a year they almost disappear (maybe swindling people in the harbor or watching some other Dregs’ territory). When they return all is good, new scars were definitely made and all, but that's a part of the job. They did mess up their leg though, having the knee crushed by a heavy object. They didn't get to heal it and after half a year its pretty hard to really fix. Unfortunately, they were known for their dancing and athletics as well as hand to hand combat before. That was why thy were seen as a valuable asset in the first place. And in the Dregs it’s not uncommon to overlook or hide injuries. So, though it's clear that something is wrong, they downplay it, afraid of being seen as weak or useless. But they struggle on the daily. I mean, from experience, that kind of an unhealed injury is hard to manage - they don't know how to sleep without pain flaring up bc the usual positions just don't work anymore, they have to relearn walking the stairs in a painless manner, whether changes are number one enemy, riding in anything is a nightmare bc the roads are bumpy, sitting apparently can cause pain too not to even mention walking. And all the fighting and acrobatics aren't as effective. They try to make others forget, trying to dance with Nina and Jes and sparring with Inej as if nothing happened. They want their life and self worth back

Before, they were known for keeping Kaz at a distance, which doesn't change at first. They still bicker, the reader is still distrustful. But I think he would be helpful. Not out of kindness, especially at first, but out of convenience. He can’t have them messing things up and so it starts small with offhand tips. Just enough not to have them get killed. Later, perhaps, they start talking more and the reader isn't sure if Kaz is still just the ruthless asshole they have to work with

To be fair, I don't have much plot. I just have my love for bittersweet stories and my messed up leg to provide inspiration. Also, don't care what you do with the gender, I used they/them to make in neutral but I don't really care. I know this request is long. No pressure if you don't like this scenario

-☆

My apologies for this taking so long. I was just scared that I wasn’t gonna do this justice. I hope it’s at least somewhat close. 🥺😫

Broken dreams

Playing a part was always hard. Fitting different masks. Making sure they didn’t slip. Always a smile. Always a careless, wild girl. But she just died last year. She was beaten. Broken to bits. Tossed aside. Left to die in that ally. To rot. Forgotten. Would anyone have come looking for you? Would have missed you? Grieved you? They killed the innocent girl that day. Left a broken shell of a woman in her way.

“Come on one more”, Nina pulled at your hand breathlessly. You quickly shoot her a smile, pushing the demons running in your mind aside. “We just sat down”, you chuckled while in reality, the idea of being up on your feet was making you want to turn to the side and vomit. “Oh, come on, we used to dance all night long, remember?”, she tossed her head back, downing her drink. “Jasper always steps on my toes, I need you to save me from that”, she cackled. Your eyes followed Jasper who was turning Wylan around. How much has everything changed in the time you were gone? It felt as if you no longer belonged. As if this version of you didn’t belong here anymore. “Are you feeling okay?”, Nina’s worried eyes watched you and you instantly nudged her, “Morning my freedom now that you’ve pretty much left your boyfriend for me”, you teased her. Happy to see her laugh. Off the hook then. “Lead the way”, you urged her. You could dance. Then down half the bottle of painkillers. Snatch one of the absolute bottles from Kaz’s drawer. It would work. You just had to pretend for a bit longer.

The pain was unbearable once you finally excused yourself. Sobbing the whole way back to the den. The agony felt like tongues of flames. No longer just in your legs. All over your body now. You slumped against the door. Letting yourself breathe. Trying to breathe. Only twenty sets of steps. It used to be only. Now it felt like twenty too many. Ot aggravated you. You wanted your body back. Wanted your freedom back. Wanted to be able to do things that others did. You just wanted it all to stop.

“Back early”, the voice makes you halt. Eyes growing big, you wipe your face before turning around, “Been a while since I drank so freely, Nina is also too persuasive”, you shoot a somewhat dazed smile at Kaz, who’s leaning against the the hallway arch. “You used to dance till early morning sun”, his words meet the target in a blind shot. Making your eyes sting once more. “You used to be more quiet. Don’t want to crawl back to your hole?”, it’s bitter. So bitter because he had learned to live with his pain. You were jealous of that. You had hoped that by watching him you would learn some tricks. How to navigate things that were easy once but brought you pain now. You learned to walk down the stairs because of him. Of watching him.

“You’ve changed”, Kaz’s eyes don’t leave you as he speaks. “Rich coming from you”, you let out a chuckle, locking the outside door. “You’re defensive”, he continues to push, “You were never defensive with me. We argued. You tested my patience but you never bit me”, you hear the sound of his cane, then the smooth steps. “Why are you biting me now, YN?”, Kaz asks. “Don’t make everything about yourself, Kaz”, you turned around swiftly, feeling your legs dip slightly beneath your weight. But you bite back the cry of pain, stepping forward. Hoping to escape him. But Kaz’s cane comes in front of you blocking your way.

“You don’t get to walk away”, he grunts, turning his head to you. “I’ll ask this once”, his voice low, lethal, “So take your time to think”. You can feel him. Feel his eyes when he asks, “Who hurt you?”. The anger takes flight within you. Sending traitorous tears falling down your cheeks, “If I have an idea they would be six feet under”. He had played his part. Made you open the throbbing wound up for him to see. “They captured me. Broke my knees. I couldn’t…”, the words tumble freely, as you hide your face in your palms. “Why didn’t you say anything?”, his tone is blank, emotionless.

“What was I supposed to say?”, you crock out in frustration, “I was worthless then. I was of no use”. Kaz clenches his jaw, “So you hide the truth from me?”. You can’t help but growl in frustration, “I did the job you gave me. I got you what you wanted, what else do you want from me for fuck sake”.

And it’s a matter of heartbeats as your back hits the wall, Kaz’s cane now pressed against your chest, “I don’t give a fuck about the job”, he spats, veins visible in his tense neck now. “We could have gotten you a good doctor, could have…”, he grunts, “Did anyone look at the injury at all?”. You look at him for a moment. You could lie but what’s the point? “Some passing by a doctor”, you admit, “Fixed what he was able to, wished me luck, and left”.

Kaz shakes his head as he steps back, “How bad is the pain?”, “You want to bask in it?”, you clip right at him. “I should throw you out. Make you pay for ruining your own body so carelessly”, he hisses, “Legally you are mine. I own you. So your legs are mine to worry about”. You scoff, “How sweet of you, my gods”. Kaz’s gloved hand catches your jaw, the touch starts you both it seems. “I’m mad at you because you should have spoken up. I would have helped you. Would have dropped everything and made my way to you”, Kaz snarls through gritted teeth, “You’re starting physical therapy from tomorrow. That’s an order”, he steps back, pulls at his west. You blink up at him, knowing that you should say something. Anything. He would have come to you. But was it true? “If you ever pull anything like this ever again…”, Kaz doesn’t finish but you know well what his words imply, “I’ll see you in the morning at my office. Think well about the features of people who attacked”.

[gilverrwrites]

Michael/Reader, 1.4K words Established vee dynamic: Michael/Adam & Adam/Reader, which will evolve into a triad. [2/3] Four things you explain to Michael, and one thing he explains to you. Part: [1][X][3]

Chapter 2: Adam explains...nothing, and you explain yourself.

Broaching the impromptu kiss with Adam had been simultaneously easier and harder than you’d expected. When he hadn’t immediately surfaced at the hockey game to voice any concerns, you’d figured he either a) was at least somewhat okay with it, or b) having a heated discussion with Michael about it in their shared headspace.

When you’d brought it up at home, later that same night he’d laughed. Not an outlandish or bitter one, just a light-hearted one, at the expense of your confusion.

“So… I guess you’re cool with it?” You’d asked, unable to shake your guilt until you heard confirmation from the man himself.

“Well, yeah.” You breathed a sigh of relief, until he continued. “I mean, it was bound to happen eventually.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, these aren’t exactly normal circumstances, and you and Michael don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but it makes sense.” He shrugs, placing his hands on your hips as he gets closer. The confused look on your face conveys that it’s doesn’t not in fact, ‘make sense’. “Well, I love him, and I love you, and if I’m to believe you both, you love me too.”

He purses his lips as he considers the right word choice, swaying his head back and forth so endearingly that you have to fight the urge to interrupt with a kiss.

“We live our lives in… immensely close proximity.” His fingertips are warm against your skin as he creeps them under your shirt, rubbing soft circles on your lower back to ease your obvious tension. “I’m just saying, you seem a lot more relaxed around each other, and I much prefer the way he thinks about you now to what he used to think.”

You’re not sure which intrigues you more, Michael’s old thoughts, his new thoughts, or that fact that he thinks about you at all. You know you shouldn’t ask, it’s not Adam’s place to say but the words fall out in a flurry regardless. “Michael thinks about me?”

“Sometimes.” He offers you a smile, a brights, boyish one that shows off the top row of his teeth. Instead of giving a real answer he places solid, chaste kiss to your forehead before retreating, smug in the knowledge that he’s knows something you don’t.

Ever since that night, things had changed. Micheal was around a lot more, and he was a lot more talkative. That is to say he was about as talkative as a fast-food worker on a busy Friday night, which isn’t much, but it is something.

Adam didn’t particularly approve of Micheal using his grace too often, citing it as hindering their integration back into humanity, but that didn’t stop Michael from offering to use it on menial tasks like the dishes or the laundry when you expressed tiredness. On one occasion after you’d declined, he’d cheekily suggested that you leave them for Adam to do later, it was his ‘no mojo��� rule after all.

One night while they were out, and you couldn’t sleep, they’d returned home to find you dancing around the apartment to some oddly named Spotify mix in nothing but your underwear and a pair of fuzzy socks. There had been an awkward minute where you and Micheal had stood, unmoving, watching each other, unsure how to react. A part of you hoped Adam would ease the discomfort, and another part had hoped the two of you could resolve the issue together.

When the next track played, you reached an arm out to Michael, inviting him to join you and he’d taken it, sheepishly trying to emulate your dance moves until you were too tired to continue.

While you couldn’t get him to admit that he enjoyed it, he started actually sitting beside you to watch TV. He asked about your day and listened attentively when you complained about your coworkers.

When you’d dumbly asked if he’d experienced anything similar, he’d spent a long time thinking, before telling you about a time his younger brother Gabriel had taken his lance without asking, the resulting clean-up was nasty. The story in earnest was horrifying, but you appreciated his sharing a personal anecdote regardless.

It was hard to tell where things were going with him, harder to tell where you wanted things to go, but you enjoyed his company regardless, and with Adam’s approval, you were content to let things go wherever they take you.

This morning you had something for him. A neatly wrapped gift in blue paper and a fancy ribbon that you’d had hidden under the bed for a few weeks.

When you enter the kitchen Adam is sat at the table, tapping away at a crossword puzzle, two cups of coffee resting before him, one for you, one for him. He is sweet.

“Good morning sleepy head. How are you this morning?” He asks as you greet him with a kiss, his eyed immediately darting the parcel you place on the table as you sit beside him with a stretch.

“Not bad, how are you?”

“Alright.” He turns his phone off, placing it face down on the table before pointing at the gift. “Whatcha got there?”

“It’s for Michael.” You reply chirpily.

Adam grins at you, that smug, knowing grin that makes you want to slap and kiss him simultaneously.

“Want to speak to him?”

“Only when you’re good and ready.” He’s gone before you can finish speaking. The stark contrast between their demeanours is immediately evident. Adam’s soft sunny face hardens into Michael’s signature neutrality.

“Why?” He’s nothing if not endearingly frank.

“If your birthday!” You announce, sliding the gift closer to him.

“It is not.” He argues, but there’s no malice in his tone, he sounds slightly amuse more than anything. “I was not born, so I do not have a birthday.”

“I know, I know. But it is September 29th. Michaelmas, so it seems as good a day as any, I thought we could celebrate it every year. It doesn’t seem fair that Adam and I get to have all the fun, and you don’t.”

“Every year.” He muses quietly, finally picking up the parcel.

“And no magic either!” You instruct. “You’ve gotta open it properly.”

He spares you a smile, you know it’s genuine because he so rarely does it.

Long fingers pick at the edges and corners, threading through the ribbon string as he examines every inch, not like Adam who opens gifts like an exited child on Christmas morning. They’re so different, but so right for each other.

After an excruciatingly long wait, he folds back the paper and pulls out a green and yellow jersey. Minnesota Wilds, the same team you’d watched together. He treats it the same way he had the wrapping, turning it over and over, inspecting every logo and seam.

“I thought you could wear it whenever we watch them play again. If you want to, I mean.” The silence is killing you, you can’t help but fill it, wanting to explain your reasoning before he has the chance to reject it. “I thought you’d like it but if you don’t I can return it and-“

“No.” He puts his hand on yours. The second time he’s touched you unprovoked, and it quietens you just the same. “I like it.”

His approval calms your nerves and you let out an audible phew which invokes another smile from Michael. You are truly blessed today.

“I want very much to watch more hockey with you, and to wear this.” As if to accentuate his point he puts the jersey on over their clothes, fingers playing with the collar once he’s smoothed it out against his chest. It occurs to you now that Adam has an adequately man-sized wardrobe, but you wonder how much input Michael had had on picking any of it out. Did he own clothes? You had planned to throw him a mini party today. Not much, just cake and battleship, possibly a documentary of his choosing, but maybe you should take him shopping.

Had he not cupped your face between his hands you could have followed that train along its tracks until it’s crashed.

“You’re spiralling.” The states matter-of-factly.

“How could you tell?” Adam, you think, would have told him.

“Your face does this thing.” He doesn’t quote have the words to express it, but you can imagine what he means. “It is charming to watch, but you should stop.”

Your nod it stifled by the way he holds you face between his hands.

“I am very grateful for this gift.” His lips are on yours once more. Just as tender as last time, his soft lips brush your own, lingering longer than last time, like he’s savouring it. Savouring the way your breath hitches, the way you melt slightly into him. When he pulls away you follow until he’s too far out of reach. “And I am grateful for you.”

I'm glad you exist.