#they met it with such kindness and compassion and warmth I want to cry just thinking about it

[queerplatonicdiaries]

you make the heavy easier to carry

[scarlethexelove]

Your newest fic was amazing!! It hit me right in the feels. Is there a possibility of doing a part 2 where R is healing and struggling with having Wand and Natasha back in her life? A happy ending would be nice.

What About Now?

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader, Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 3590

Warnings: A bit of angst(I guess), Fluff, Medical stuff that may not be right, mention of not wanting to survive

Part 1 I Don't Even Know You Anymore

A/n: Ok so finally got this done. It has some unspecified time jumps. I wanted to kind of leave it a surprise on who Reader will choose so you will just have to read to find out. Hopefully it's good.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

It’s been a week since you woke up.Your mind reeling at the news that you will never be an Avenger again. Your injuries were extensive. Your head injury with your new found stutter which you are really hating. Doctors believe that those effects can be reversed with speech therapy. Along with that it was discovered that a bullet had grazed your spinal cord. While they did test your reflexes they came back weak. Your lower half is feeling slightly numb and tingling. With physical therapy they are hopeful for improvements but with the prognosis things will be difficult. There was also nerve damage that will cause ongoing pain. It comes and goes and some days are worse than others. But you’re alive and that is all that matters. 

Your mind goes through all the questions you have in your head. Will Tony make you leave? How do I tell everyone? How do I stop the pity? Was I better off not surviving? All these questions and you have no answers. No one knows of the news you got today leaving you alone with your thoughts but with this news you prefer it. 

As your mind plays through all the questions you don’t even hear the door open. But you're drawn to it when it shuts. You look down at your hands not meeting the eyes on you believe it is Wanda and Natasha who have visited frequently. “P-please leave. I c-can’t with this to-today.” You fiddle with the ends of your sleeves. “Well I did travel across six galaxies to see my best friend but I guess I’ll have to come back later.” Your eyes snap up and you're met with a soft smile from your best friend. “Ca-carol?” The tears start to well up in your eyes before a broken sob breaks through. Carol is quick to move towards you. Climbing onto the edge of the bed and pulling you into her chest. 

You sob for what seems like hours until your sobs turn to soft sniffles and hiccups. But Carol never leaves hugging you tightly against her as she rubs your back and kisses your head softly. Cooing in your ear to help calm you down. “Y/n/n do you want to tell me what is going on? I heard you were hurt so I came straight here.” You nod, pulling away to look at her before letting it all out. Telling her what happened from when you got back from your mission all the way until earlier today. She intently listens to you and lets you speak. There is no pity in her eyes, only love and compassion, no malice even when talking about what Wanda and Natasha did to you. Only concern for you and your wellbeing. That was why she was your best friend. She knew you better than anyone. 

Once you are done she finally speaks. “I wish I was here. I wish I could have been here for you, to take care of you but I’m here now.” She kisses your forehead again lightly. Her lips linger just a little longer than they should but you don’t mind. Her warmth comforts you. “W-what about m-mi-mission?” She shakes her head. “I’m here for you. Y/n/n you come first.” Your heart melts. “Nick granted me time off.” She smiles brightly at you. Your joy and excitement to have your bestfriend back. 

From all the events of the day and crying your eyes out you start to get tired. You're nuzzling into Carol's chest as you let out a yawn. “Get some rest sweetheart. You need it. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She kisses your head again and pulls you closer to her. You give her a gentle nod nuzzling closer to her before you close your eyes. Drifting off into the most peaceful sleep you have had in almost a year. 

In the months since waking up from your coma and Carol’s return you have grown even closer to Carol. Tonight just like any other night or so you think. You and Carol are sitting in your bed watching a movie for your weekly movie night. Your head is laying on her shoulder, her arm wrapped around you tightly keeping you close. You let out a giggle at something in the movie causing Carol to smile at you. What she does next you don’t expect. She places a finger under your chin gently directing you to look at her. She leans in and gently kisses your lips. You're too shocked to kiss back at first. But once the shock wears off you start kissing her back. It feels strange but good. The kiss deepens her hands cupping your face as you grip at her waist. You didn’t even realize how long you two had been kissing until you're forced to pull back panting and catch your breath. Her forehead pressed against yours as your breaths mingle. 

You don’t want to admit that your feelings for Carol have grown with the more time you have spent with her but you're not sure if they are romantic or not. “Carol” You whisper between you two. You lean your head back and look into her eyes. “I-I don’t know. I’m not ready. I don’t know how I feel. I’m sorry.” You look down disappointed in yourself but you know that you need to understand yourself before you can decide anything. Natasha and Wanda are still trying to prove and make up for everything they have done. You still have love for them but you also have love for Carol even if you aren’t sure what that love entails. 

Carol gives you a soft smile. “It’s ok Y/n/n. You don’t have to explain. I just wanted to kiss you so bad and I couldn’t help myself.” You blush at her words. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” She adds looking at you, her smile turning sheepish. “No it’s ok. I-I liked it.” You tell her your cheeks are still dusted with a light pink. This was not how you expect your night to go but it was a nice surprise. “Do you want to keep watching?” Carol asks. “Hmm oh y-yeah, of course.” You say turning back to the movie. Your head back on her shoulder and her arm wrapped around you tightly. 

So far the only people who know about your prognosis are Carol, Tony, Bucky, and Steve. You have asked  them to not tell anyone else until you are ready. Tony has let you stay in the tower citing that you have given up enough of your life and you deserve to keep your home. You are grateful for his kindness. No matter what people say you know Tony has a big heart and cares more than he lets on. 

As for Natasha and Wanda they have been helping you as much as they can even if you don’t always want it. They are trying to prove to you that they are truly sorry for what they have done. They even started to go to therapy in hopes of proving it to you. They have even invited you to multiple sessions. At first you didn’t want to go but you wanted to see if they had actually changed. So you tagged along after turning them down a few times. But now that you have gone you have joined them multiple times. Seeing that they are trying. 

Currently Carol is away for a small mission. Fury forced her to go but luckily this one is on Earth so she shouldn’t be gone for too long. You're in your bathroom when you feel a sharp pain in your back which causes your legs to give out. You fall to the ground with a loud thud and a cry of pain. You try to get up but a shooting pain runs through your hip causing a small whimper to fall from your lips. When you can’t get up you love to sit against the counter. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” You call out. “Yes Miss.Y/l/n?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s robotic voice is heard above. “I-I need help.” You say back. Shortly after F.R.I.D.A.Y responds “I have informed your emergency contact. Miss.Romanoff and Miss.Maximoff are on their way.” “W-wait, N-” You’re cut off when the door slams open, Natasha and Wanda with a frantic look on their faces when they see you on the floor. You had forgotten to change your emergency contact from the two after everything, but it’s too late now the women are here. 

“Oh Milaya, what happened?” Wanda kneels down next to you. She hesitantly reaches out for you and when you don’t pull away she takes your hand in hers. “I-I fell and I can’t get back up.” You mumble looking down. You expect to see pity from the woman so you can’t bring yourself to look at them. Natasha makes you look at her with a soft smile. She holds out her hands for you to grab and to help you up. You place your hands in hers, she starts to try to lift you up but you cry out in pain. There is a terrified look on her face in fear that she may hurt you somehow. “I’m sorry Y/n.” You shake your head. “Not you. I think it was the f-fall.” You tell the woman. “We’ll take you to the med bay. We need to make sure you are ok.” Natasha scoops you gently in her arms and takes you towards the med bay. Wanda close behind the both of you.

Once the three of you are there Natasha puts on the exam table in front of Bruce. He was luckily already in the med bay when you got there. “What can I do for you?” Bruce takes off his glasses looking at you three. “I fell and I think I hurt my hip.” You tell him and he nods. It is a short time before he is done with his scans. Natasha and Wanda never leave your side throughout the process. Bruce moves to look at your chart and scans. You watch him as he reads through. You can see the slight change in his demeanor and the quick glance he gives you before looking back down quickly. You know what he just saw. 

There is a gasp that draws your attention. You look over seeing Wanda with her hand over her mouth shocked and a sad look in her eyes. “W-Wanda.” Your voice quivers slightly. “You weren’t supposed to find out. Not this way.” Natasha looks confused as she looks between you and Wanda. Bruce shrinks back trying to blend in with the wall. “I-I’m sorry. His thoughts were so loud I didn’t mean to hear.” Wanda pleads, a look of remorse on her face. “Will someone tell me what is going on?” Natasha asks finally and you sigh knowing that you can’t hide it from them anymore. “W-when I got hurt my injuries were more extensive than what was originally thought.” You gulp down the tears that threaten to fall. “I won’t be an Avenger again.” A tear rolls down your cheek as you look down. 

The room falls silent with the news until Bruce breaks the silence. “Y/n I have your results. It looks like you have a hairline hip fracture. It should heal on its own with rest. You will have to stop your physical therapy for a few weeks but then be able to continue.” With Bruce's words you nod, willing the tears from the previously intense moment to go away. Bruce gives you some pain medication to help before taking his leave, leaving the three of you alone in the room. 

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife until you speak. You explain everything to the woman. Tears rolling down your cheeks as they comfort you. It’s an emotional time as you tell them. Their comfort in this moment means the world to you. It is something that you have missed dearly. They vow to help you in whatever way they can. They help and comfort making you feel loved. Making you question all of your feelings for them and for Carol. 

It’s been a few weeks and you're healing. You can move around again albeit slow and with the help of a cane. You're making your way to the common room when you stop at the entryway. Leaning on the wall watching all of your favorite people in the room. No one has noticed you yet as you watch. Your eyes landing on Carol as she laughs and talks with Thor. A smile on your face watching the two interact. Your gaze then makes its way to Natasha and Wanda who are cuddled up on the couch. They are playfully arguing with Clint. The sight widening your smile. You see that Carol’s eyes land on you with a giant grin on her face. At the same time Wanda and Natasha spot you giving you a warm and inviting smile. And in that moment you know that you need to make a decision. To either take a chance with Carol or forgive Wanda and Natasha. To build a lasting relationship with either the pair or your best friend. It will be one of the hardest decisions of your life and one you never thought you would have to make. 

The door swings open as the keys jingle in the door. The sound of feet padding on the ground, wails of glee from the kids. “Mommy! Mama!” Three children yell in unison. Their attention is drawn to the open door. Their bodies smashing into the woman causing them both to laugh before crouching down to their heights. Holding them closely to their bodies. A blonde falling back into the couch with a huff watching on. Green eyes landing on the woman and giving a nod. The blonde nodded back. 

The kids pull away and look at the woman. “Where’s Momma?” Natasha asks, her green eyes looking at her son. The boy shuffles a bit with a sad look. “It’s a bad day. Momma called Aunt Yelena to help.” Natasha kisses his head, she knows it is hard for the kids to see you in pain just as much as it hurts her and Wanda. She looks to Wanda who gives her a sad smile. “Have you been good for Aunt Yelena Billy?” She smiles down at him trying to brighten his mood. “The niblets have been just fine.” Yelena interjects from the couch. Natasha raises her brow at the word. “What? I heard it on the tiktok.” Yelena says with a wide grin proud of herself. Natasha rolls her eyes and puts her attention back on the kids. Billy, Tommy, and Alexandra nod along with Yelena. Causing both women at the door to laugh. Wanda kisses Tommy and Alexandra’s head. “Thank you for being good for your Aunt. How about we…” Wanda ponders for a moment. “Pizza for dinner.” The kids erupt in cheers which brings a smile to their faces. “How about you three go play while me and Mama go check on Momma?” The three nod and scurry away. The two women stand up and start making their way towards the bedroom. “Thank you Lena. Are you okay still watching them?” Wanda asks before leaving. Yelena waves her off as the kids pounce on her and she laughs. “I’ll make you some mac and cheese later.” Wanda yells from down the hall. They hear a loud yes from the woman causing them to laugh as they make their way into the bedroom.

It’s dark as they enter the room. They can see your form on the bed cuddled under the blanket. They see your shoulders gently rising and falling as you breathe. You must be asleep as you don’t hear them enter. The woman takes their shoes off before joining you in bed. Wanda slides in behind you, her arms wrapping around you gently, not wanting to cause you any added pain. Natasha shuffles in front of you. Moving your hair from your face. She smiles as you start to blink your eyes open. “Natty? Wands?” You question as your eyes begin to focus on the woman in front of you. Wanda gently kisses your shoulder as Natasha kisses your forehead causing you to let out a small giggle. “ You’re home early.” You say sleepily moving your head to nuzzle into Natasha’s neck. She smiles, running her fingers through your hair. “Mhmm we couldn’t wait to get back to you and the kids so we worked quickly.” Natasha kisses your head again. 

“Billy told us you’re having a bad day.” Wanda kisses your shoulder again gently. You let out a small hum. You hate to admit it sometimes but you know your family just wants to help. “How about we get you in a nice hot bath. Yelena is still watching the kids. We can then have a nap with you.” Natasha smiles at you and you nod. “Wands also promised the kids Pizza for dinner and mac and cheese for Yelena.” She chuckles as Wanda pushes her shoulder which causes you to giggle at them. 

Natasha and Wanda slide out of the bed causing you to whine at the loss of their bodies.  “Shhh detka.” Wanda says softly, helping you up and picking you up into her arms. You wrap your legs around her waist and bury your head in her neck. You let out a small whimper at the movement. “I’m sorry milaya devushka.” She holds you close and you nuzzle into her neck causing her to smile. “N-not your fault.” You mumble in her neck, placing light kisses on her neck. “I know. I just don’t like seeing you in pain.” She kisses your head as she takes you into the bathroom. Natasha is already in there and has started the bath. Wanda sets you down gently before helping remove your clothes. Natasha finishes getting the bath ready with an added bath bomb. Both women take turns stipping down to join you, one always being there to give you support. 

Wanda steps in the bath and sits down. Natasha then helps you in. Your back pressing against Wanda’s front before Natasha sinks into the water in front of you. You give Natasha grabby hands and she moves closer to you. The three of you settled into the warm bath. Nothing sexual, just love and understanding between the three of you. After a bit of soaking the woman help wash you and your hair before focusing on themselves. 

Once you're all done they help you out and dry you off. Natasha goes and gets clothes for all three of you. She puts you in a pair of her sweatpants and one of Wanda’s hoodies. You inhale the scent of Wanda on the hoodie letting out a content sigh. Natasha then lifts you gently into her arms and takes you to the bed. Helping you before getting in herself. You snuggle up to her and nuzzle into her chest. Wanda sliding in behind you. The moment was so soft and sweet. The women are still kicking themselves for what they did to you all those years ago. Thankful that your kind soul forgave them and gave them another chance to earn your love and affection. Now you're all a big happy family with three beautiful kids that mean the world to you all. 

The silence is peaceful as you relax feeling a wave of exhaustion. Natasha breaks the silence, her voice soft and low. “Detka we have some news for you. A surprise of sorts.” You lift your head from her chest and look up at her. A glint of excitement in your eyes as you wait for the woman to continue. She smiles gently before continuing to speak. “That was our last mission.” You sit up slightly ignoring the twinge in your back. “What?” You question. You hope this means what you think it means. “Dorogaya we are retiring. That was our last mission. We want to be here with you and the kids. We are done with that fight, all we want is your love.” You turn to Wanda as she speaks, happy tears filling your eyes. You can’t help as the tears fall and you hug them both tightly. “I love you both so much.” You let the tears fall. Your family is complete and you can all have the life you have always dreamed of. It isn’t what you expected it to be but with these women you can do anything. Over the years they have loved you at your best and at your worst. Stuck by you through every bad day. Your love grows for them every single day that you are together and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Each of them kissing your head. “We love you too.” They say together. “We want to spend the rest of our lives with you. Making up for our wrongs and earning your love.” Natasha gently kisses your lips. “Y-you already have.” You kiss Natasha before turning to Wanda and kissing her. The day started out terrible but the two women you chose to hold your heart one last time have proven that you did in fact make the right choice. 

A/n: I know that some if not most will not be happy with my decision to have WandaNat as end game. I went threw a few different idea's and always came back to them. So even if it is hated it is what I wanted in the end. Thanks for reading though.

[miguelswifey04]

Hey love🫶🏻

I cant help but Fall for your story’s they are so well written and beautiful🥹💕

I would like to request a Miguel x chubby reader where Miguel comforts her. She is insecure about her only body because of her family that tells her that she is too fat and ugly and no one would want someone like that. She is actually a soft sunshine for everyone and very friendly with kids (dunno if that info helps hehe). She is strong and doesn’t cry much, but when Miguel saw her tears he knew it was serious.

Please don’t mind my grammar, English isn’t my first language-💀

Don’t feel forced to write something out of your comfort zone Love🫶🏻

never apologize for speaking and writing in a extremely difficult language <33 your english is amazing and i 100% understand it love <33 and thank you for being lovely & super supportive, i see you <33

miguel o’hara x chubby! fem! reader

In your relationship with Miguel, you carried the weight of deep-seated insecurities about your body. The hurtful words from your family echoed in your mind, reverberating with cruel judgments that undermined your self-esteem. Though you radiated warmth, kindness, and an infectious joy with everyone around you, it was often a struggle to extend that same compassion towards yourself.

One evening, the weight of these insecurities became unbearable, and tears welled up in your eyes. You tried to hide your pain, fearing that burdening Miguel with your struggles would only push him away. But Miguel, being attuned to your emotions, sensed your distress. His gaze softened with concern as he approached you with gentle steps.

Wrapping his arms around you, he held you close, providing a safe haven for your wounded heart. "Mi amor, what's troubling you?" he murmured, his voice filled with compassion.

Tears streamed down your face, your emotions finally spilling over the dam of strength you had built. In a whispered voice, tinged with vulnerability, you spoke of the hurtful words that had scarred your self-perception, recounting the degrading remarks you received from your family.

Miguel listened intently, his embrace unwavering, as though absorbing your pain and offering solace in return. His grip tightened slightly, a silent reassurance that he was there for you, in both body and soul.

"Miguel, they say I'm too fat, too ugly," you began, your voice quivering with hurt. "They make me believe that no one could ever want someone like me. But I try so hard to be strong, to be a light for others. It's just so difficult to extend that same love towards myself."

Miguel's fingers gently brushed away your tears, his touch conveying a tenderness that melted away the walls you had built around your heart. He tilted your chin up, ensuring that your gazes met, and spoke with conviction that resonated deep within your core.

"My love," he said, his voice resolute yet tender, "let me tell you something. You are a radiant sunshine in a world often dimmed by negativity. Your warmth, your kindness, and your incredible spirit amaze me every single day. Your body, your curves, are a testament to your strength and beauty. You are exactly as you should be."

With each word, Miguel's voice carried an unwavering belief in your worth and a love that surpassed the judgments of others. He celebrated your unique beauty and reminded you that you deserved love, appreciation, and acceptance just as much as anyone else.

In that moment, as Miguel held you close, you knew that his love and support would help you heal. You realized that your worth was not dependent on the opinions of others, no matter how hurtful. With Miguel by your side, you would learn to embrace your body, celebrate your unique beauty, and shower yourself with the same love and respect you so freely bestowed upon others.

Together, you would build a bridge of self-acceptance, guiding each other towards self-love and appreciation. Miguel, the gentle and steadfast force in your life, would continue to be your unwavering source of comfort and inspiration, reminding you that you were cherished, exactly as you were.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @sabcandoit @meeom

[cryopathiic-a]

“Look into my eyes” ( : D )

❝ ... ❞ What is this? Their very bones are trembling! Pale hand reaches up to wipe a freshly formed sweatbead with his knuckles.

❝ Your aura is so powerful! It feels as if you can see right through me! And those earrings... Why do I feel like we have met before? ❞ They squint, prismatic eyes settling their pulse for just one moment. A malicious smirk begins to blossom on their features. ❝ But wait— you are carrying a heavy burden, aren't you? ❞

I see:

Absolute Conviction  |  Aggression  |  Ambition  |  Anger  |  Anxiety  |  Apathy  |  Arrogance  |  Bloodthirst  |  Bravery  |  Compassion  |  Confidence  |  Conflict  | Courage  |  Darkness  |  Defeat |  Denial  |  Desire  |  Despair  |  Determination  |  Devotion  |  Disappointment  |  Distrust  |  Dominance  |  Emptiness  |  an Enemy  |  Enlightenment  |  Envy  |  Excitement  |  Exhaustion  |  Elitism  |  Experience  |  Fear  |  a Friend  |  a Future  |  Gentleness  |  Greed  |  Grief  |  Guilt  |  Honesty  |  Honor  |  Hope  |  Hostility  |  Ignorance  |  an Illness  |  Insecurity  |  Integrity  |  Intoxication  |  Kindness  |  Lies  |  Loneliness  |  Longing  |  Loss  |  a Lover  |  Loyalty  |  Malicious Intent  |  Mania  |  Melancholy  |  Misery  |  Negativity  |  Overcompensation  |  Pain  |  Paranoia  |  Passion  |  Perseverance  |  Pettiness  |  Pity  |  Positivity  |  Pressure  |  Pride  |  a Purpose  |  Racism  |  Regret  |  Resentment  |  Resignation  |  Resolve  |  Sadness  |  Self-Hatred  |  Sexism  |  Shattered Remains  |  a Shining Light  |  Something Familiar  |  Spite  |  Stress  |  Stupidity  |  Submission  |  Tranquility  |  Trauma  |  Trust  |  Vengeance  |  Warmth  |  Wisdom  |  Wrath  |  a Cry for Help  |  Something Eating Your Mind  |  the Years have Changed You

You’re:

Animalistic  |  Approachable  |  Broken  |  Closed-Off  |  Cold  |  Crafty  |  Crazy  |  Defensive  |  Devious  |  Difficult  |  Disheartened  |  Emotionally Detached  |  Frightened  |  Frightening  |  Genuine  |  Guarded  |  Headstrong  |  Heartless  |  Human  |  Immature  |  Impatient  |  Inhuman  |  Insane  |  Intuitive  |  Lost  |  Mature  |  Noble  |  Patient  |  Pitiful  |  Primitive  |  Pure  |  Reliable  |  Remorseless  |  Reserved  |  Resourceful  |  Short-Tempered  |  Simplistic  |  Sly  |  Soft-Hearted  |  Struggling  |  a Threat  |  Trapped  |  a Troublemaker  |  Trusting  |  Understanding  |  Unique |   Unpredictable  |  Unwavering  |  a Victim  |  Wicked  |  Feeling Vindictive  |  Guilty of Something  |  Hiding Something  |  Lost in Thought  |  Planning Something  |  Scared of Me  |  Scaring Me  |  Someone I can Trust  |  Someone I Can’t Recognize Anymore  |  Someone to Fear  |  Someone Worthy of Respect  |  Weak to Manipulation  |  Weighed by Something

You:

Aren’t Being Yourself  |  Belittle Yourself  |  Don’t Want to Hurt Me  |  Don’t Want to Leave Me  |  Drown Yourself in Something  |  Feel Alone  |  Feel Empowered  |  Have a Plan that Involves Me  |  Have No One Else to Turn to  |  Have Nowhere Else to Go  |  Have Seen Some Things  |  Haven’t Been Sleeping  |  Lie to Yourself  |  Lost Faith/Trust in Me  |  Lost Something/Someone Important  |  Need Me/my Help  |  No Longer Believe Me  |  See Me as a Thing  |  See Me as Someone Else  |  Seek to Hurt/Harm  |  Seek to Manipulate  |  Think Highly of Yourself  |  Think I’m Hiding Something  |  Think Little of Yourself  |  Think You Know Best  |  Want to Hurt Me ?  |  Want to Protect Me  |  Want to Sleep with Me  |  Want to Use Me

[dreamerstreamer]

Human GPS

Pairing: c!Technoblade x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Technoblade really needs some books of mending, and you just happen to be the daughter of the village cleric.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: this a repost of the first ever story i posted when i first made my blog. this story takes place back when technoblade was still allied with pogtopia. i hope you like it as much as i did! <3

Technoblade blinked, his eyes squinting up at the clear, cerulean sky. It was about midday now, and the beating sun sat in the center of the sky, almost taunting him from where it hung.

If the sun is directly above me, he thought, then west must be… He frowned. Somewhere. Maybe.

He groaned and swung his legs off of Carl, the horse letting out a soft whinny as he hopped onto the ground. He had been travelling for what must have been close to an hour now, and he still hadn’t found a village. It was almost like the universe was trying to waste his time. All he wanted was to get his hands on some books of mending so he didn’t have to worry about any of his armour breaking, yet the world was sending him on a wild goose chase, anyways.

“Seriously,” he muttered, irritation gnawing away at his already dwindling patience, “how hard can it be to find just one cleric? It’s not like I’m asking to find a woodland mansion, or something.”

Letting out yet another long groan, Technoblade flipped open the pack he attached to Carl’s saddle. He pulled out a baked potato and bit in, allowing himself a few seconds of relief as he ate.

For a brief moment, he considered digging through his bag to look for a compass or—better yet—a map. But then he remembered that just prior to leaving, he had reminded himself that he was a human GPS and that “Technoblade never fails.”

He sighed. No compass, it is.

He took another bite of the potato in his hands, looking around at the terrain around him. There was a lush birch forest to his left and a barren desert on the opposite side. Just a little to his right was a river and—

Wait a second.

Technoblade froze, his jaw freezing halfway through chewing another bite of potato.

He recognized that river.

A wide grin split across his lips.

He totally knew where to find a village.

Doing his best not to choke, Technoblade stuffed the rest of the baked potato in his mouth and buckled his pack shut. With a grunt, he pulled himself back onto Carl, picking up the reins. “Like I said, Carl, who even needs a compass? I’ve got the map memorized, and my inner compass is perfectly calibrated.”

Carl looked back at him and let out an almost sarcastic sounding neigh that seemed to say, “Sure.”

Technoblade’s face rolled his eyes. He snapped the reins once, and Carl charged forward.

The human GPS never failed.

You let out an ecstatic cry as you pushed the last book in your hands onto the creaky bookshelf, stepping back to look at your work in pride. You’d been organizing the library for a little over half the day now, and you were almost finished. Each shelf was now in alphabetical order.

Dusting off your skirt, you took one last glance at the shelves before settling down at the table in the corner of the room, looking over the to-do list you had set out for yourself the night before. “Let’s see,” you hummed to yourself, “I already dusted all the tabletops, mopped the floor, and delivered that order to Mr. Hart. Now I can check ‘organize bookshelves�� off the list, too.”

You set the quill down on the table. “Meanwhile, dad’s out trading with Mrs. Lee and said he would be back soon.” You stared down at the page for a moment longer before sighing. A frown etched itself onto your features. You leaned your elbows on the oak tabletop as your gaze trailed out the church window and up at the cloudless sky.

You had lived in the village your whole life with your father, the village cleric. Everything was peaceful and you loved the familiar environment you resided in, but things had also become so… boring in the village. So bland, so dull. You can’t even remember the last time you did something fun. Sure, you were productive and made sure to help your father around his workspace the best you could, but you wanted more than this.

Please, you thought to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut in a silent prayer. Please, please, please let something new and exciting happen. At least just once in my life.

All of a sudden, you heard a distant rumbling.

You sat up straight, blinking awake from your reverie. What’s that sound?

The rumbling grew louder, and you could now recognize it as the galloping of a horse. Your thoughts were only confirmed by the loud whinny you heard right after the rumbles stopped.

You pushed your chair back, standing up from the table and walking over to the front window, crouching down to peek outside. You squinted, your eyes scanning around outside before they landed on an unfamiliar shape.

Your heart suddenly barrelled over in your chest.

Sitting atop a horse wearing diamond armour in the center of the village square was a stranger.

His back was facing you, but from what you could see of him, the first thing you noticed was the crimson robe hanging off his shoulders, cascading down his back like a scarlet waterfall. An axe was strapped to his back, tinted with a murky, violet hue. His hair was a vibrant shade of cherry blossom pink like nothing you had ever laid eyes on before, and on his head sat a golden crown encrusted with glittering gems. You wondered what his face looked like, curiosity bubbling in your chest.

Just then, he slid off his horse, landing on the ground with a small thump. He stood tall and proud, turning his head this way and that as he looked around at the houses around him, an air of regality surrounding him.

Then, he turned.

Your eyes only met for a fraction of a second before you immediately ducked down, hiding your figure from view in the window. The moment you were out of sight, you stilled, doing your best not to give yourself away.

He was handsome.

His face was calm and demure, reflecting his royal air almost perfectly, and his eyes, like his robe, were a piercing crimson red. They almost seemed to stare into your soul, laying every part of yourself bare for him to see.

He looked like a king in every sense of the word, and you just had to meet him.

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you struggled to regain your breath. You peeked over the windowsill carefully, glancing past the glass outside once more. The stranger had tied his horse to a post in the square and was walking around, glancing at the villagers here and there. Most of them seemed to be slightly wary of him—after all, it wasn’t everyday a king showed up at your doorstep. He seemed to be looking for something with the way he kept looking around him, his eyes sweeping over every inch of the village. Perhaps you could help him.

Slowly, you slid away from the windowsill and carefully clicked open the front door, stepping outside. The sun shone brilliantly on your face as you made your way toward the stranger. Once again, his back was turned to you, and you stopped a few feet behind him. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up what courage you had before speaking.

“Hello.”

The man turned at the sudden sound of your voice, his scarlet eyes piercing into yours. “Oh, hello.” His voice was deep, laced with a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your offered him a warm smile. “Welcome to our humble village. I’m [Y/N].” You extended your hand, and he took it in a friendly handshake, smiling back.

“The name’s Technoblade.”

Your eyebrows quirked. “Technoblade,” you repeated. “That’s a unique name.”

“Thanks,” he said, jokingly adding, “I got it for my birthday.”

You giggled at that. He may look regal and intimidating, but right off the bat, it seemed that his personality was far from it. “You know what they say, a bad joke is always the best way to leave a good first impression.”

He frowned, feigning sadness. “Oh, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad.”

Your lips twitched. “Well, I laughed at it, so I’ll give you that.” His face lit up once more, and you felt your stomach churn with warmth. “Well, what brings you here?”

He gestured to the pack he had clipped to his belt. “Just looking to do a few trades, really.”

You looked at him in confusion. “A king? Trading with commoners like us?”

He blinked for a moment. “Ah, about that, I’m not really a king, per se.” He plucked his crown from off his head, tossing it casually in his hands. “The crown and robes are more for… aesthetic purposes, to say the least. I don’t really rule over my own country or anything.

Your tilted your head at him. “Where do you come from, then? I can only imagine you travelled for a while to get here.”

He shrugged. “It was kind of far, but it wasn’t a big deal, really. I never got lost.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Never?” you said.

“Never,” he confirmed. His grinned smugly, your heart reeling at the sight. “I’m a human GPS, if you will.”

You stifled a laugh but couldn’t hide your smile. What a dork. “Totally.”

His grin only widened. “Anyways, I’m from this place called Pogtopia.” You must have made a face at his words, because he laughed at you and god, even his laugh was pretty. “Yeah, it’s kind of a funny name, isn’t it? Well, I didn’t come up with it. My friends Tommy and Wilbur did.”

“They must be…” You looked for a good word. “…interesting people.”

He laughed. “It’s okay—you’re allowed to say they have bad taste in names.”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment. “Okay, yeah, their taste is pretty poor.” You glanced at him. “Are they the kings of your country then, since they named it?”

“Kind of. I guess you could call them kings, but they’re more like self-instated presidents, even though that kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a president.” You nodded, following along in agreement. “They’re trying to win back some land they were exiled from a while back called L’Manberg, although it was recently renamed Manberg, but there’s also Dream and his SMP, and—” He sighed, running a hand through his rosy locks. “It’s complicated. Basically, we’re sort of in the middle of this war, and I just kind of got roped into it.”

Your eyes widened in alarm. “A war?! Surely we wouldn’t get involved, right?” Your village, like many others, was a pacifist group of people, having no source of defense or battle skills to protect yourselves with. If this supposed war came all the way to your little village, all of you would surely perish.

Technoblade raised his arms in front of him, quickly shaking his head. “Oh, definitely not. You’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear.”

You pressed a hand to your chest as you let out a breath of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” Technoblade smiled at you from the corner of your eye, amusement lacing his lips. You suddenly straightened, another thought popping into your head. “What about you, then? Aren’t you worried?”

He laughed again, though it sounded more like a cackle. “Me? Worried? Nahhh.” He swung his axe off his back, being careful to point it away from you. “I may not look like it, but I’m actually one of the most feared warriors in the land. Tommy and Wilbur basically begged me to join their side so I can help them win.” He gestured to himself. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think it’s pretty clear to see I’m pretty much a god at PVP.”

You hummed, shaking your head. “No, I believe you. You do look like you could seriously teach someone a thing or two with that axe, but I really don’t think I need to feed your ego anymore.” You smiled bemusedly. “It already seems to be quite large on its own.”

His grin dropped. “Wait, please, feed my ego, I thrive off complime—”

A giggle escaped your mouth as you waved your hand at him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Your expression grew a bit more serious. “But honestly, you’re not scared? Even a little?”

Technoblade shook his head. “Nope. A war is just a lot of fights lined up one after the other, and I’m great at winning fights. Heck, I could probably wipe out the other side in a heartbeat with what I’ve got in my arsenal. Tommy and Wilbur might just send me out by myself to do just that.”

“They would?” you said in disbelief. “Aren’t they worried for you, either?”

He snorted. “They were the ones who wanted me here to help them win, so they definitely aren’t worried.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Well, that was no good—no good at all. Wasn’t a single person concerned for this man’s safety, not even just one? No matter how powerful he may be, this was a war you two were talking about, and wars don’t always go according to plan.

Suddenly, it hit you.

“I see,” you murmured. You raised your chin, resolve filling your veins. “Then I’ll worry for you.”

Technoblade stared at you for a long moment, stunned into silence. Panicking, you began to ramble. “You and your friends may have overwhelming confidence in you and your abilities,” you said, “but it’s still important that you recognize that sometimes things don’t go according to plan. That’s why you should worry, and if you won’t, then I’ll do it in your stead.”

When he still didn’t say anything after yet another moment, you felt embarrassment rise up in you. “I’m sorry, we just met and that was totally uncalled for of m—”

“No, no, really,” he abruptly said, shaking his head. “It’s all good. Seriously.” There was a slight pause. Then, he softly added, “Thank you. I appreciate your concern.”

His lips curled to form a smile, but this one was different from the ones he gave you before. Those ones were proud and teasing, full of mirth and some level of arrogance. But this one was softer, kinder. More genuine and real.

You liked this one more.

Still feeling slightly embarrassed from having just rambled about caring about a near stranger to his face, you quickly shifted gears. “W-Well, I should probably ask what exactly you wanted to trade for,” you said as your cheeks flushed pink. You lowered your gaze to the ground, trying to avert your eyes from his. “I can probably help you find whatever it is you need.”

Technoblade hummed. “I have a bunch of stuff with me that I can use to trade, but I’m looking for a cleric to get some mending books from.”

Your head shot up in recognition. “A cleric, you say?” Your lips curled into a small grin when he nodded. “I know just where to find him. Wait here for a minute, okay?”

As soon as he nodded his head once more, you had already taken off, bounding down the grassy path with your skirt trailing behind you. Technoblade’s gaze followed you as you rushed down the path, a pleasant warmth bubbling in the pit of stomach and he watched you run off.

Usually whenever he came to a village, the people he met were wary of him and hardly ever spoke more than the bare minimum to him. Most of them were intimidated by his appearance, others thrown off by his cockiness. And yet here you were, treating him like a friend when so many before you had done the exact opposite. You were kind, compassionate, and you saw more than just his arrogant exterior. You genuinely cared for the person he was underneath the crown and the robes. Not to mention, you were quite the sight for sore eyes.

Warmth blossomed in his chest and something fluttered in his stomach.

He was glad he came to this village.

To say your father was more than pleased to trade some books of mending for the stacks upon stacks of emeralds Technoblade had was an understatement.

“I thought you said you weren’t a king,” you said to him, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you saw him open his pack.

“I’m not,” Technoblade said, twirling an emerald between his fingers. “I just happen to be very wealthy.”

You shook your head at him, a smile gracing your lips. “You’re a maniac.”

He shot you a smug look. “Oh, don’t I know it.”

After he had traded for some mending books with your father, he had asked you if your village had a fletcher.

“Oh, I made a delivery to Mr. Hart earlier today,” you said. “Here, follow me.”

The trek to the other side of the village was short enough, and you were content to wait on the sides while Technoblade made some negotiations. Just then, Mrs. Lee spotted you and strode up to you.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N],” she greeted, her lips tilting into a familiar gentle smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee!” you chirped happily, turning to face her. “Thank you for the pumpkins, earlier today! I’ll be sure to give you some of the pumpkin pie I bake tomorrow.”

“Why, there’s no need for you to do that, dear.” She leaned close to your ear to whisper, “You know you’re my favourite of the youngins here.”

You blushed. “You know that’s not true.”

She held a finger to her lips. “It’s our little secret, alright?” She looked over your shoulder at Technoblade, who was still debating with Mr. Hart. “Looks like you’ve become acquainted with our visitor, haven’t you, dear?”

Your blush deepened. “Y-Yes! I have. His name is Technoblade and he comes from a country called Pogtopia. He traded for some books with my father just now.”

Mrs. Lee wrinkled her nose. “Weird name, the both of them, but never mind that.” She smirked at you, glancing just behind you. “He’s quite the looker, isn’t he?”

Your face exploded like a bright red tomato. “I-I, um, he’s. Um.” You took a deep breath and fanned your face, lowering your voice. “He’s handsome.”

Her smirk only grew larger. “I hope the two of you become even more acquainted then,” she said cryptically, patting your shoulder. “I’ll be on my way now, but do let me know how it goes, okay?”

You nodded dutifully, too embarrassed to say anything else. Mrs. Lee turned away and continued her way down the grassy path, smiling to herself.

If only you had seen the way he had looked at you.

Hours had passed since Technoblade had first arrived in the village, and the sun was just beginning to set. The two of you had visited just about every working person in the village, chatting away as Technoblade traded for whatever he needed from each person you two saw.

The two of you learned a lot about each other in the time you spent together. You learned that Technoblade wasn’t a huge fan of government and much preferred anarchy. He learned that you longed for something much more than your normal life in the village, but you had yet to discover what it was you wanted to do. You learned that he owned a dog named Floof. He learned the location of your favourite spot in the village. By the end of the day, it felt like you two had known each other for ages.

You secretly hoped that he would stay, but you knew that he couldn’t. The village wasn’t his home, after all.

You stood nearby as Technoblade strapped his pack back onto Carl’s saddle, chewing the inside of your lip. He climbed onto Carl, securing his axe on his back and picking up the reins in his hands. “Well, [Y/N],” he said, a hint of disappointment tinging his voice, “it looks like this is goodbye.”

“I guess so,” you murmured sadly, casting your gaze down at your feet. You had only known him for so long, but an overwhelming sense of loss filled you knowing that Technoblade was leaving and may very well never return. He was funny with his dry, dorky sense of humour and charming with his sharp grins and deep voice.

You weren’t sure you were quite ready to let go just yet.

“Um,” you spoke up, your voice cracking a little, “will you…” You peeked up at him, nervously biting the inside of your cheek as you fiddled with your fingers. “Will you ever come back?”

Something in Technoblade’s chest seized at the shy look on your face, your cheeks rosy and your gaze darting back and forth between his eyes and the ground. While he had originally only come in search of this village to trade with a cleric, he supposed he might always need more mending books in the future. Not to mention, he would also get to see you.

He smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll be back, so wait up for me, yeah?”

Your eyes lit up and an elated grin spread across your face. “I-I will!”

He chuckled at your giddiness, his own heart beating wildly against his rib cage. “Good.”

Sharing one last look with you, he snapped his reins and held on tight as Carl dashed forward, his gaze trailing behind him as he watched you wave your arms frantically at him. He couldn’t help but crack a smile at your enthusiasm, raising his arm to wave back at you himself. He kept waving until he could no longer see you, and only then did he face forward to find his way home.

The journey back was significantly shorter than the trip to the village, and before he knew it, he was tying Carl to his usual fence post. He was a human GPS, after all. How else would he have found the village—and you—with so much ease?

He tilted his head up, looking up at the rising moon in the east. Now he knew that the village (and you, his heart helpfully supplied once more) lay to the west, just beyond the birch forest, desert, and river. Above him, he could make out the shapes of a handful of constellations, the stars twinkling and winking down at him from space. He wondered if you were looking up at the same starry sky as him. He wondered if your stomach was full of butterflies, too.

“So,” he mused to himself aloud, his heart thump-thump-thumping in his chest, “[Y/N], huh?”

He was definitely going back.

[skrunklybf-archived]

want you so bad

the vaccines

*+:｡.｡　armin a　｡.｡:+*

summary: he's tired of watching you get used. he's tired of picking up the pieces that shouldn't be broken in the first place.

tags: college au, friends to lovers, pining, comfort, fluff

Unnecessary -- every stroke of his wrist, every soft hum he lets slip into your ear -- he knows he shouldn't be doing this right now. But when you showed up at his door, face flushed and shoulders trembling, Armin couldn't not sweep you into his chest. He couldn't help but run his fingers through your hair, slightly damp from sweat, and guide you to his couch like a gentle shepherd.

This has been his place for so long. The boulder, the fixer, the shoulder to cry on when you inevitably get your heart thrown back at you over and over again. You had a pattern of doting on assholes with brain cells peaking in single digits.

Armin feels selfish, he decides, as he runs his palm over your back.

As much as he hates nights like this, there's some small part in him that anticipates the closeness. Revels in it. You always turned to him for comfort, and he always obliged -- how could he turn you away?

"I'm sorry," you breathe against his sweater, your voice low. Armin tucks some of your hair behind your ear as he gazes down at you, slumped on his chest. Your tears had slowed from gushing rivers to a misty haze in your eyes.

"You don't need to be sorry."

"You tried to tell me, Armin, and I didn't listen." A hiccup. "I never listen..."

No, you didn't, but he wasn't about to throw it in your face like that.

"I just hate seeing you like this," the blonde feels you tighten your grip on him as he speaks, "I hate when you cry," and he places a brief kiss atop your head, "but I'll always be here for you."

Suddenly, you straighten, watching his face illuminated by the silent TV before you both. His eyes are all encompassing, nearly drowning you in shades of blue as he takes you in. An air of understanding seems to fall over you and your breath catches hastily in your throat.

Nobody else had ever treated you with such raw kindness. For the better part of your young adulthood, Armin Arlert was a constant voice in the back of your head, smooth tones overpowering your own rather dreary monologue.

Part of you knows the obvious: you're desperately in love with your best friend. His compassion stands completely unparalleled, unwavering. The only thing keeping you from completely devoting yourself to him as he so gracefully did to you was fear.

What if you fuck something up?

You could so easily lose the most fantastic person you've ever met.

Did you even deserve a man like him?

Sensing a shift, Armin slowly lays his palm on your clammy hand. His lips let your name drip from them, soothing, like honey overloading your senses. The way your eyes seem to scan his face sends shivers down his spine.

"Is everything okay?"

"Armin, I think I love you."

And he pauses. Heat pricks under the skin of his cheeks and the blonde is suddenly at a loss for words. Bright flashes of color crash against your features in the darkened room and he can't seem to concentrate anymore. "I love you too, [Y/N], you know that." You're my best friend. Warmth radiates from your hands as they encompass his larger ones.

"No, I mean... I love you, Armin. I think I have for a long time."

Circuits fried, the man searches you for any sign of trickery. A tug of the lips, a twitch of the eye, anything -- to his surprise, he only finds a sense caution. A boulder forms in his throat and he chokes it down. Minutes ago you were bawling your eyes out in his chest, now you're telling him you love him?

He pulls you in, burying his face in your hair, some animal clawing viciously at his insides. "I love you too. I always have." Utter relief makes the man feel weightless. Tingles and stars run rampant through his veins. Armin feels his body relax once your arms snake around his torso, clutching to him like a lifeline.

Minutes feel like hours as you two mold together like this on his couch; years of movie nights, fire-tinged trivia and study sessions imbedded themselves in the downy fabric beneath you. Now, you smile gingerly as Armin places delicate kisses across your forehead in the low light. An utter sense of belonging drapes over you as he holds your form against his, and for the first night in ages, you fall asleep feeling completely at ease.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

[fallinfl0wers]

love stories with some genshin boys i thought of while listening to my playlists

includes: aether (210 words), xiao (261 words), scaramouche (277 words) and albedo (307)

warnings (?): spoilers of ‘we will be reunited’, english is not my native language and uhh idk what else, idk really know what these are, headcanons ?? snippets ?? also not beta read and not edited.

it’s long so uhhh i’ll add a cut somewhere

anyway enjoy!! ...whatever this is i guess

Aether

Falling in love with Aether is like a fun adventure. He, being always the center of attention and the protagonist no matter where he goes, is a free spirited, kind and hardworking man. 

Throughout your time travelling and being in a relationship together, you’ll find that your relationship with the Honorary Knight is one of sweet kisses under the sunlight; innocent handholding while thinking up of what to make for dinner tonight; of easily talked out arguments and finding ways to compromise; of softly pushing each other to become a better version of themselves and, most of all, of supporting and having each other’s backs no matter what.

And when Aether confronts the Abyss Princess face to face for the first time and his world comes crashing down on him, this trait of your relationship shines like no other, as you hold him in your arms after everything was over during the night, Paimon sleeping soundly next to the both of you inside your improvised campsite.

“Even though I’m not sure what -or who- I should believe anymore, I... I know I want to see this journey to the end, and I want you to be there with me for it. Let’s be together until the last moment and beyond.”

Songs:

Snow Fairy - Funkist

Snowing, be honest with yourself and smile When two people are getting closer, time overlaps Fairy, where are you going I will gather all the light and shine it on your tomorrow

Still Lonely - SEVENTEEN

This cursed popularity. Why won’t it leave me? But why am I getting lonelier The early morning chill makes me feel Even lonelier today I feel completely empty, as if I’m empty

Kanpeki Gu~ no ne - Watarirouka Hashiritai

I'm at a loss for words, with this and that, I'm totally in love with you Someday, I want do the same to you: Watch you flounder, At a loss for words right back to me!

Side by Side - The8 from SEVENTEEN

I want to hold hands with you but I don't know what to do what to do oh baby I want to give all my heart to you but You still don't know what's in my heart

Hope - Namie Amuro

At the end of this blue, wide world there's a place I want to aim at with you We chose this long ago for eternity

Xiao

Falling in love with Xiao is like living a bittersweet dream. The Vigilant Yaksha is far from human, or so he says, and thus is out of touch with the way we mortals experience feelings, both the negative and positive ones.

Your relationship with him is one of compassion, mutual understanding, appreciation and patience. So, so much patience. Of intertwined pinkies and soft stolen glances, of shy smiles and comfortable silence sometimes filled with your voice chatting time away and his short responses to your talks.

I mentioned patience. He knows you’re making an enormous effort to try and understand him and be patient with him and his slow learning process of how relationships work, so it’s only fair that he makes a true effort to understand you and your feelings.

Xiao is well aware that he could hurt you without wanting to, be it with his blunt phrasing of his thoughts or his Karmic Debt, as much as he is aware that you will eventually pass away and leave him behind to go somewhere he can’t follow, and that undeniable truth haunts him every second of every day he gets to spend with you. And still, he wishes and wants and does cherish each and every warm, kind feeling he gets every single second you’re together nonetheless.

“I might not know what to make of these new feelings you gave me. But I’ll learn. I promise I’ll learn, so please... don’t go, not yet. Let me treasure you and carve you into my memory for as long as I can.”

Songs:

Euphoria - BTS

I don't know what this emotion is Perhaps this is also the inside of a dream A dream is the blue mirage of the desert Deep inside of me, a priori I become happy to the point of being unable to breathe The surroundings, bit by bit, become clearer

Fallin’ Flower - SEVENTEEN

While flower blooms and falls, scars cure and buds shoot We are living our first and last moment So I won’t take you for granted Because you loved me as I am

Fear - SEVENTEEN

Get out my mind I can't handle it, I'm afraid of myself The truth has me tied up My heart is tainted I'm afraid it'll eventually change you too

The Truth Untold - BTS, Steve Aoki

It’s my fate Don’t smile to me Light on me Because I can’t get closer to you There’s no name you can call me

You know that I can’t Show you me Give you me I can’t show you a ruined part of myself Once again I put a mask on and go to see you But I still want you

Tiny Light - Akari Kitō

Because you colored my unchanging monochromatic days Even the blurred darkness gained meaning

Still, hidden in this heart, these feelings of preciousness so strong that they hurt I just want to convey these feelings to only you before they disappear someday

Scaramouche

Falling in love with Scaramouche is like constantly playing a game. He’s strict, demanding, disagreeable, and widely disliked by enemies and allies alike. Still, he has a heart too; and he holds desires and hopes deep inside of it, although most of them are fueled by the unchanging curiosity he has towards the world around him, curiosity to know what he can get out of whatever the world wants to throw at him.

You were no exception to that rule, at first.

When he met you he wanted to get something from you. And you knew it from the start, just as he knew that you knew. And that didn’t change anything, at first.

Your relationship with him is one of dangerously playful, yet still light-hearted games of seduction, teasing and deceit; of secret kisses exchanged in expensive private rooms in restaurants or the cozy warmth of your home, of an unspoken shared respect and, most of all, complete, mutual devotion.

You know Scaramouche is not a good man. He has done many, many unspeakable things in his life as one of the Eleven, and he knows he’s far from being the perfect charming prince you could aim for, but he will never let you go. Because behind those hardened walls of egocentrism and pride, you saw what no one else bothered to see. You saw him, not the role he was playing, you saw him and fell in love with him.

“To be honest, I don’t think I could find anyone else who understands me as much as you do. And no, I’m not saying this because I want something, give me some more credit, geez...”

Songs:

soldier game -  µ’s

You'll come with me, yes? You've grown curious about my touch, yes? Then it's already love Since you're someone I must meet in battle someday, That might just be your reason It's soldier game Though we've met again, I'm soldier heart

Kowareyasuki - Guilty Kiss

Just stop it already and show your heart only to me I love your eyes that are about to cry And your defenseless, clumsy way of living too (...) The hesitation you convey makes my chest hurt Some people just don't know what such kindness is But then I discover the truth When we got together, you don't have to endure anymore Right now, show your grief only to me I like that you think too much The complete opposite of me

Shhh - SEVENTEEN

Don't think of all these as your mere illusion They're not lies that follow the moment No one can underestimate it, my feelings are an ignition 'Cause I'm always the same Me and you, we got hurt by the lies that we won't ever work But it's fate

(...)

So I can cover you from danger A consented dedication

(...)

It's as natural as breathing An everlasting dedication

Good to me - SEVENTEEN

Yeah, when you were making that sign in my heart It was a long time since my firewall broke down Pass with the password What in the world do you know about me? Are my deep feelings seen by you?

Hiraishin - Keyakizaka46

(To trust is to be betrayed, to open one’s heart is to get hurt So to avoid being struck by lightning-like sorrow…)

Which side am I picking? Ah, these values are hard to handle That’s why I won’t stop watching over you Positive positive positive You should just be yourself… I can forgive whatever absurdities you pull off I’ll support you without being noticed Even when you get nitpicked I’ll be your companion Let us now promise to live an unremarkable life hereafter What we have here is the lightning rod of love

Albedo

Falling in love with Albedo is a fairy tale-like experience for both of you. His attention had always been focused on his research, everything else fading into the background save for a few exceptions, until you came around. You, who stole all his attention by just existing. 

As an alchemist, he’s naturally the curious type. He wanted to know what about it had caught his attention, what was so special about you that had him clinging to your every word and movement every time you interacted with him. Still, human relationships are hard for him, and he figured you might go away the second he started to feel burnt out from your interactions. But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed. You stayed and took interest on what he did, asked questions, gave your insight, and dragged him to sleep when he needed a break. In exchange, he did the same for you.

Your relationship with Albedo is like one of those awkwardly sweet first time crushes. Of carefully calculated movements, dates and compliments, of soft kisses on lips, hands and cheeks, of mutual support, understanding and mature compromising and commitment.

The Kreideprinz, like everyone else, has his own fears and insecurities, especially regarding his... nature, but he does his best not to let them affect the relationship he has with you. Each moment spent by your side, even when he’s not actively doing any research, is considered perfectly spent, meaningful time.

“A long time ago, I was tasked with finding out the meaning of this world. Though I have directed my efforts and resources to looking for the answer through alchemy, ever since we met I... think, I’ve found an unexpected conclusion to said issue. While it’s likely that this is not the answer expected from me, I’m positive that, at least personally, I finally have the answer.”

Songs:

Futari Saison - Keyakizaka46

In the wind blowing through the city’s streets, even though I caught whiff of something’s scent, I had no interest in looking back

In a 1m radius around me, I formed an invisible barrier to another world And yet, you took someone like me out of it

What made you do that?

Home - SEVENTEEN

What can I do? Without you I’m just an old robot, my heart stops and it’s always cold What can we do? Without me You’ll struggle just as much, so what can we do?

Baby, I want to cherish our warmth So no one can come between us

Flower - SEVENTEEN

You taught me, you showed me You’re my only reason If you can forever remember me I can get hurt, I can get hurt

My heart that’s engraved with your light Makes me stronger Give me your sharp thorns Cause you’re my flower

Oh my! - SEVENTEEN

Sorry for repeating the same thing But this is all I can try using hard words But my true feeling is this, every everything

(...)

How about you? Is it hard for you to sleep because of me too? If you keep making my heart flutter What do I do?

Naze koi wo shite konakattan darou? - Sakurazaka46

Why hadn't I fallen in love? I've been making fun of it all this time I mean everyone keeps saying 'I love you' just like cats in heat But after falling in love I realized what people live for To meet, to love, to the point of nothing but... I'm not myself, I want to find my true self.

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Strawberries and Peaches

Pairing  ::  Eric Northman  x  fem!Reader

Warnings  ::  Angst, Smut, Mentions of Blood, Bloodplay(?idk he’s a vampire so-?), Death

Word Count  ::  3,588

Summary  ::  Eric thought he had lost you centuries ago, and yet here you were again.

A/N  ::  Takes place between season 3 and 4

When you walked into Fangtasia a few nights ago, with an old acquaintance of Eric’s, he thought he had seen a ghost. The last time he laid eyes on you, you were crying. The last time he held you, you were dying. 

-

Nearly several hundred years ago, Eric first met you, a humble girl in a recluse village. Your people warned you not to venture off into the woods, and more importantly, to never speak to the people who walk only during the night. You were kind-hearted though, and so, when a blond man walked up to you after nightfall, begging for help, you couldn’t say no. You more than happily helped him and welcomed him into your home. You treated and cared for him as if he were your own family. 

Eric had never received such kindness from a human before, whether they knew he was a vampire or not. You always gave him a smile, even when people began to warn you about him. He found himself drawn to you. Your scent was like none he had ever smelled before. Strawberries and peaches, with a dash of rose petals. Whenever your fingers touched him, he swore he felt his freezing body warm-up. For the first time in his life, he found himself falling for someone, and slowly, you did too.

Perhaps your feeling for him clouded your judgment, or perhaps you truly didn’t care. When Eric had confessed to being a vampire, you hugged him and told him you’d love him no matter what. Godric tried to warn Eric that starting a life with a human would be dangerous, especially since you weren’t ready to be turned. The thought of being immortal horrified you, however, with Eric it didn’t seem that scary. Still, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to the sun. All he could do was support your decision and wait. His compassion is what killed you, and he blamed himself every day for it until eventually, you were a fleeting thought in the back of his mind. 

There were times Eric had to leave because Godric needed him. Unfortunately, on one of these trips your village, though recluse, was not impossible to find. You were attacked right before sunset by a neighboring kingdom that had recently declared war against yours. Men, women, and children died, homes were burned to the ground. Your home was spared. You were not. Eric returned shortly after the attackers had left, finding the ruins of your village. If his heart was still beating, it surely would’ve stopped. He found you in your home, laying in a pool of blood on the floor with a large slash across your torso. Your breath had stopped long ago, and your warm touch now is just as freezing as Eric’s. He fell to his knees, holding your limp body in his arms. He could see tear stains on your face, and he couldn’t help but wonder what your last thoughts were. Were you waiting for him? Crying for him to return? He’d never know, but he’d make sure he’d have revenge for your death.

-

Time went on, and Eric began to grow unsympathetic. He never allowed himself to get close to another human again as he did with you. He had the occasional flings, and there was Pam. She was a companion and received a different sort of love from him than you did. There was also Sookie, whom he felt drawn to, but he never felt the love for her he felt for you. What drew him to Sookie was the fact she was a fae. What drew him to you, he never quite understood.

You may have become a distant memory, but he’d always remember your sweet scent. Strawberries, peaches, and a hint of rose petals. He hadn’t smelled that sweet aroma since the day you died, that was until a few nights ago.

You walked in with Bishop, an old acquaintance of Eric who knew him long enough to know you. You wore a pastel yellow sundress, not knowing you’d be going to the vampire bar. All Bishop told you was to wear something nice. Hell, the man didn’t even tell you he was taking you to Louisiana. You lived on the west coast in a small apartment as a writer. Ever since The Great Revelation, you had been attempting to speak to as many vampires as you could so you could share their stories with the world. Most were hostile or rude when you questioned them, and the few that would agree had either odd demands you’d have to refuse or were clearly lying. Then, one night, a vampire showed up at your front door, claiming he knew a vampire over a thousand years old who’d tell you his story. Shortly after, you found yourself on a plane and now in a bar called “Fangtasia”.

Bishop told you to wait near the front, which you gladly did, not wanting to walk further in. You stood out like a sore thumb, and all you could do to avoid the gazes you were receiving was look at the wall of shirts they sold.

Bishop walked up to Eric’s throne, a small smile on his face. “Hello, Sheriff-”

“Stop,” Eric said in a cold tone. He narrowed his gaze on the man.  “What do you want?”

Eric and Bishop had a complicated relationship. They had known each other for centuries, but they weren’t friends. Their paths only really crossed when one needed something from the other, typically Bishop needing something from Eric.

“Have you always been this hostile?” Bishop let out a sigh. “I don’t want or need, anything Eric. I came to bring you a gift.” Eric was silent, letting the man continue. “I know you smell her, and yes, it really is her…”

Eric’s gaze moved over to you, standing by, looking at the shirts. You looked exactly the same, besides your (h/c) hair being a bit different now. His eyes softened for a moment, watching you giggle at some of the little phrases they put on the shirts. 

“...or at least, another version of her.”

Eric’s focus snapped back to Bishop. “What?”

“She’s one in a billion.”

Eric knew some people could be reincarnated, but thought the chances of that were slim to none. Godric had only encountered two reincarnated people in his life, and Eric none, until now that is. 

Without another word, Eric approached you. You were so into the silly phrases on the shirt, you nearly missed the tall man approaching you. You turned to face him, a large grin on your face as you extended your hand.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Northman. I’m (f/n) (l/n), but please, call me (y/n).”

“Only if you call me Eric.” 

Looking down at you, the corner of his lips were curved upward. Reaching out to shake your hand, he felt the same warmth he felt centuries ago when your hands touched. You tilted your head touching his hand. Yes, it was cold, but, you felt an odd sense of safety holding his hand, even if it was for a brief moment.

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head lightly. “I’m sorry, but, do I know you?” You couldn’t help but be forward. You’ve never felt this sense of security before.

Eric, for once, didn’t know how to reply. Technically he knew you, a different you though.

“Possibly, I’ve been around for a long time. There’s a chance our paths have crossed before.”

You hummed in response, before continuing on to tell him about why you had traveled all the way to Shreveport, Louisiana. Eric absentmindedly listened to what you had to say. In all honesty, he was just happy to see you again and agreed to any pitch you gave him. As long as he could be close to you again. Even though Bishop was constantly telling you on your journey here that Eric would say yes, you were still surprised and grateful when he agreed. The agreement was for you to come to Fangtasia each night, sit next to Eric, and he’d tell you his story.

He was one to come up with the arrangement, yet it seemed he cared little about telling you his story. You went several nights in a row, standing out due to your brightly colored clothes each day. Everyone stared at you as you sat next to Eric, except for one of the employees named Pam. She didn’t seem to care a single bit about who you were. The night usually went one of two ways. One: You’d ask Eric a question, he’d give a vague answer, and then quickly shift the focus on you. Two: Men and Women would spend the entire night trying to grab just a sliver of Eric’s attention before he snapped his fingers and Pam came to pry them away. There was one night he almost kicked a man who made a comment as to why you were so special you got to sit next to him, Eric held back. He didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than you already were in the bar.

Tonight was the second kind of night. So far, the blond had already rejected two women and one man. You couldn’t wrap your head around why people would throw themselves at him. Admittedly, you found Eric handsome, and always wanted to see him smile for some odd reason. Still, you’d never throw yourself at him like these people would. At least, you’d hope you never would.

You were usually patient, however, it had been nearly a week and you still hadn’t gotten a thing from him. You were beginning to grow impatient with him, not to mention tired from your daily schedule changing so much thanks to him as well.

“Hey, Eric, I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel early tonight,” You told him as you began to pack up your things.

Eric looked at you with confusion, brows furrowed. “Why? What’s wrong?” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried something was wrong.

You stood up, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Nothing, I’m just tired is all. Have a nice night.”

Walking out of Fangtasia, for the first time ever, you saw a large group of Christian protesters standing a short distance away from the entrance. Usually, you showed up right before sunset and left at the crack of dawn, so you had never seen such a large group. You wouldn’t have cared much if not for the fact that you had to go through the crowd to get to your car. They shouted at you as you walked through, calling you a “fang-banger” and “vampire cunt”. You ignored them, wondering why they had nothing better to do than this. Tonight was one of their rowdier nights though, and you were shoved to the ground. You scraped your hands and knees, tearing the white tights you wore under your blue dress. You began to pick yourself up, and that’s when you noticed the crowd had gone silent. You looked up, curious, seeing Eric now standing right at the front of the crowd, Pam right beside him. He was giving them a murderous glare, daring for one of them to do something so he could rip them apart. 

Once you stood up, Eric turned to you, walking over in a few steps. He grabbed both your wrists, eyebrows knitted together. “You’re bleeding,” He muttered, looking down at the scrapes on your palms. Letting go of one of your wrists, he led you back inside. “Pam, deal with these people,” He ordered right before he walked in.

Briskly, he walked you back to his office, not wanting any of the other vampires to get a whiff of your blood for too long. You had never been in the back, and you didn’t get a very good look around with Eric rushing you into his office.

“Sit on the desk,” He told you as he began rummaging through one of his cabinets for the first aid kit. It was rarely used.

You moved a few of the items on his desk aside so you could hop on. Silently, you looked around the office, waiting for Eric to walk over. After a moment, he found the kit and began cleaning one of your hands. His cold hand held your warm one gently, almost as if he were afraid he’d break you if he wasn’t soft with you. You were closer to him now than ever before, with only a foot of distance between you. You winced when he cleaned the wounds, but as he bandaged them up, you couldn’t help staring at him. You took note of his perfect, still pale, complexion, his blue eyes, and his slightly tense jaw. Little did you know, it was causing a great deal of pain for Eric to hold back and not start licking the blood that came out of your wounds. Your scent was much stronger than before and his mouth was watering, remembering the sweet taste of your blood.

When he was done with your hands, he paused for a moment, looking down at your knees. “I need you to take off your tights.”

You were confused, until you looked down, seeing your ripped tights. “O-oh, right,” you stuttered.

You hopped off and took your little blue heels with ease. Then, you reached up the skirt of your dress and pulled down your now ruined tights, tossing them right next to your bag. As you did, you could feel his intense stare on you, causing your cheeks to heat up. You were about to sit back on his desk until he told you to stand instead. He knelt down to clean the scrapes on your knees, one hand holding the back of your leg. Quickly, he wrapped it up and moved on to clean your other knee. 

Now, you don’t know why you did, but without thinking you questioned Eric. “Why’d you lie and agree to tell me your story?” You covered your mouth right after you asked him. Your mother always did tell you that you had the problem of speaking without thinking.

Caught off guard, Eric looked up at you with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

Realizing you couldn’t take back what you said, you continue on. “You haven’t told me a thing about you. Why’d you lie to me about telling me your story?”

Without hesitation, Eric replied, “Because I wanted you to be with me again.”

Now you were caught off guard.

“You’re almost an exact replica of someone I cared about and lost a long time ago. You don’t have her memories, but besides that, you’re exactly the same,” He began to explain, “You look like her.” His grip on your leg tightened, “You feel like her.” He moved his head closer to the now clean wound on your knee and took a sniff, “You smell like her.” He licked the fresh blood that was coming out, “You taste like her.”

Eric watched you squirm a bit under his hold, a faint blush spreading across your face. You gripped the sides of your dress, your brows turned downwards and your lips formed a small frown. You thought he was teasing you.

He let out a small chuckle. “You even act the same as her.” He licked your leg again, your breath now shaking.

“S-stop it,” You barely managed to whisper.

You could hear the sadness in his voice and it made your heart hurt. Your eyes began to sting. Your chest grew tight. You couldn’t understand why you felt so sad for him, even though you barely knew him. Finally, he let go of your leg and stood up, towering over you. 

“What if I don’t want to stop?” Eric asked you, eyes peering down into yours.

Your heart was racing now, though you weren’t sure whether it was from fear or perhaps excitement. You knew one thing for sure, with him staring so intensely at you, you could feel a heat beginning to rise up inside you. 

He brought a hand up to the side of your face, stroking his thumb gently across your cheek. Slowly, he began to lean his head down.

With his lips brushing against yours he asked you, “What would you do?” right before pressing a soft kiss onto you. 

You leaned into the kiss, closing your eyes and gripping his black shirt. As it continued on, the kiss began to grow rough, Eric nibbling your bottom lip with his fangs. His hand on your cheek was gentle, but the hand that held your hip was tight. Feeling a small pinch on your lip, you let out a gasp knowing full well he had bitten your lip. It was enough for Eric to shove his tongue in your mouth though, and both of you tasted your metallic blood.

His hand on your hip moved lower, gripping your thigh. He pushed you back against the desk, lifting you so you’d be seated again. He pulled away from your mouth, moving down to your neck. He licked a few spots, before finally biting down and piercing your skin. You let out a soft cry, hands moving to wrap around his neck. You gripped his hair, feeling him suck the blood out of you. You bit your lip, trying to hold back your whimpers.

When he pulled away, you felt light-headed now. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling his hands come off only to swiftly pull your dress off. After pulling off your bra as well, his hands began to roam around your body. You shivered against his touch, your skin feeling like it was burning against his cold hands. He grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it lightly before leaning down and biting the upper part of it. This time, he sucked to leave a mark rather than to drink your blood. 

A hand of his moved down, in between your inner thighs. He began to rub your clit with his thumb roughly, a moan finally escaping you. He pulled away from your breast, a bloody smirk on his face.

“Well how about that, you sound just like her too,” He teased.

“Sh-shut up,” You stammered.

You moved your hands to pull at the bottom of his shirt. He pulled away his thumb, allowing you to take off his shirt, and see the bulge that had formed in his pants. 

He leaned down to your ear and whispered, “I want you to get yourself ready for me love.” He then grabbed your hand, leading it down to your panties. 

Once he let go, you began to rub yourself through the thin fabric, feeling how wet you already were. You began to rub harder and faster, watching him undo his pants. His briefs went down with his pants, allowing his hardened dick to spring free. With one hand he grabbed the hand you were using to rub yourself out, and with the other, he ripped off your panties, causing you to yelp. Then, he guided you to put a finger of your own inside you, along with his. 

“Eric,” You whimpered.

He continued to guide you, moving your hands together in and out of you at a slow pace. “Shhh, I need to get that tight little cunt of yours ready for me. Okay?”

He stuck another of his own fingers inside of you and all you could do was nod your head quickly. He took out your hand and began to pick up his pace with his fingers. With your moans, and grip on his shoulders, he could tell you were getting closer, begging for a release as you arched your back.

“Eric, please,” you mewled out.

“Please what?”

“I need you, all of you,” you begged.

He pulled out his fingered and positioned himself right at your entrance. “Alright, but only because you begged,” He said with a wink. 

Slowly, he began to push himself inside of you, cursing under his breath at how tight you were. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Eric gave you a moment to adjust to his size before he began to move, thrusting at an unbearably slow pace for you. You attempted to move your own hips, wrapping your legs around him. Knowing you needed more, Eric began to pick up the pace almost instantly, causing you to cry out loud. He slammed his mouth against yours, muffling your cries and your moans.

He was finally giving you what you needed, and you knew you’d be undone soon. You almost cried when he pulled out of you completely, until he slammed back into. You let out a loud scream and Eric groaned, feeling you tighten. He continued to pound into you, going harder each time until your body tensed up and you moaned his name loudly, finally hitting your high. Growing close himself, Eric’s thrust had a rhythm before, but now they grew ragged. Soon after you, he hit his climax, cumming inside of you. He proceeded to ride himself out in you and your breath slowly began going back to normal.

Pulling out of you, he placed a quick kiss on your lips. “I hope you know I’m never letting you go now,” He muttered.

“That’s fine because there’s no one else I want to go with.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft (p.2)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Abuse, drunkenness, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead, decapitating a chicken, reader is kind of emotional in this chapter

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

Part 1 

_____________________

Work had passed fairly quickly as it always did when you had the opening shift. It sure sucked having to arrive at five o’clock in the morning but at least you got off earlier and you knew that that way you could grab groceries before your father got home and could yell at you about an empty kitchen again. By two o’clock in the afternoon, you were home again, hopping out of your truck and grabbing as many bags as you could in one go. 

The loud sound of metal slamming against metal shook you and you flinched, looking between your door and the frame to see Arvin walking out towards you. It hadn’t occurred to you that his car was even in your driveway. After so many years of having busted broken down old cars sitting there that your dad had been swearing he’d fix for almost ten years, cars in the driveway seemed normal. “Let me give you a hand,” he offered as he got closer, lifting the canvas bags from your hands before you could object. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you felt the weight suddenly taken off your own arms, “Thank you.” You dove back into the truck to grab the last two bags before slamming it shut with your hips. The two of you began your stroll towards the front door, the dirt driveway kicking up around your feet. “You’re back early.” You noted, looking over at Arvin. 

He shrugged, “Yeah, uh, Wallace had me on the early shift today.” 

You fumbled with the bags as you tried to unlock the door, kicking it open with your toes when it finally gave in. You walked into your home and Arvin followed, closing the door behind him. “Been here long? I didn’t see you in the driveway.” 

“Not too long. I just didn’t want to let myself into your home without nobody there.” Arvin set the bags on the counter next to where you set yours. 

You began to unpack the bags and put the groceries in the respective places. Arvin watched off to the side, unsure of how your kitchen was organized so he was worried he’d do more than good if he stepped in. “My daddy got the late shift?” 

Arvin shook his head, noticing that his beat up old hat was still on his head despite being indoors and took it off immediately, his tousled brown curls parting messily down the middle. “No, we went in at the same time. He ‘n some buddies said they was goin’ to some bar in town.” 

He watched your shoulders fall a little and you sighed, “Figures…. You didn’t go?” 

Again, Arvin shook his head, “No. No offense to your daddy but I don’t like to drink the way I get the feelin’ he does.” 

You snorted, turning to him with a knowing chuckle, “Let’s just say that I’m sorry in advance for whatever he says or does when he gets home, if he gets home. Sheriff Pike might end up callin’ in the mornin’ tellin’ us to pick him up.” Though it was stated as a joke, Arvin could hear the tragic reality behind your words. 

Arvin then noticed the pack of beer bottles that you were pulling out of the bag. As if you could feel his eyes looking at you with worried curiosity, you glanced over at him, noticing the way his eyes flicked between you and the beer in your hands. You offered a sad shrug, “I know what you’re thinkin’ but trust me. Sometimes it’s better to have him drunk and possibly content than sober and angry there’s nothing to drink. Besides, the beer is better than the hard stuff with ‘im.” 

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be makin’ faces. Your business is your business,” Arvin backpedalled, giving you an apologetic nod. 

You shook your head, “Don’t worry. I know how it looks. I’m sorry you gotta see all of it. I been tryin’ to keep to keep him calm but if you end up stayin’ a while, I’m sure you’ll get to see him at his worse times.” 

Arvin chewed his lip as he contemplated whether or not to bring up what had been going through his mind but he had to make sure you were alright. “I-I heard you ‘n your dad talkin’ last night… right after you left my room.” 

Your face fell as you realized what he was talking about, “You weren’t s’posed to hear that. I’m sorry.” Shit, this was what you were hoping to avoid. 

“Are you alright?” 

Gentle. Caring. His tone was something that had been long lost to you in this house and it took the words out of your mouth for a moment. It was embarrassing, the way your heart welled up with… well love wasn’t quite the right word but the warmth of being cared about. Not since after your mother had passed had you heard somebody actually care about how you felt. 

You just nodded and gave a forced smile that you could tell was easy to see through but it was the best you could muster. For someone who was able to take so much shit from their father and was able to look the man who would throw things at you and grab you by the hair dead in the eye with nothing but contempt, it was compassion that made you crumble. It had been so unexpected, especially from Arvin, the stranger living in your house. 

“Shit, ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean to - I didn’t mean to overstep. I only…” He stammered over his words and at first you were confused until you felt the single hot tear tracing its way down your cheek. 

You were quick to wipe it away, shocked at your own uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. You hadn’t realized until now that you had zoned out on the ground while Arvin’s words repeated in your head but now a flash of embarrassment ran through you. “No, no, no. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sniffled once before giving a small laugh of disbelief. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since anybody asked that.” 

You straightened up and ran your hands through your hair, eyes closed as you thought of what else you needed to do. Thankfully, if your dad was at the bar, you had at least another four hours to just you and Arvin, all night if you were lucky, though you seldom were. That was when the feeling of dread set in. Your dad had requested chicken roast for dinner tonight and whether he came home early and only a few beers in or you had to drive him home hungover in the morning, the man would be furious if there weren’t at least reheated leftovers for him. You had to kill Patty and prep her for dinner.��

“You okay?” Arvin asked again, though this time it was in reference to the way a heavy look fell over your features. It wasn’t a profound deep question like it was earlier. 

Your head wavered from side to side and your lips twisted, “My daddy asked for chicken roast tonight. I gotta go out and fix Patty up.” You tried to put it lightly though it felt anything but. “I’ll be out in the coop. You’re more than welcome to clean up in the shower or do whatever you’d like ‘round the house. The radio is in the livin’ room if you wanna tune into somethin’.” 

You pushed yourself off the counter and walked to the door in your kitchen that led out to the backyard but Arvin made a few steps to follow, “Is it alright if I keep you company? It don’t feel right bein’ in your house without you or your daddy here.” 

You smiled at the thought of him staying with you and you nodded, continuing out the door, “Sure, c’mon.” 

The hen house wasn’t very far from the back door. From there, you could see the several acres of land that your father was wasting. Your grandparents had bought this land in the late 1910’s and had started up a little farm of their own to sell locally, though your father had abandoned the farming portion after they died. It was where your daddy had grown up and then where you had as well. God, how you missed your grandparents. Your grandmother’s soft words of love and kindness but sternness and willingness to swat your butt with a wooden spoon if you got an attitude (though she would yell at your father if he ever tried to discipline you - “Now you leave that poor baby alone!”). Your grandfather had looked like a rough and angry old man from years of hard work but he had the softest heart of anyone you’d ever met. How the two of them had raised your father was beyond you. 

When you approached the wired fence and jiggled the lock open, the chickens inside stood surprisingly still. They trusted you. You could see it in their little brown eyes. You were safe and warm and didn’t want to harm them. You came in for the unfertilized eggs they laid and left, oftentimes with some seed and a soft pat or two on the head. Patty, a fat white hen with black specks, walked comfortably around your feet, nuzzling her head against your leg. She was the nicest hen you’d ever had. She trusted you. 

God, you were about to cry again. You bent down to pick her up and you held her against your chest, trying to look her in the eye, though it was difficult when she kept jerking it in different directions. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” you murmured low. Usually it was your father that would slaughter the hens if he really wanted the meat that badly. You had never done it yourself but he’d made you watch every time so that you knew how if the time ever came. Each time it made you sick to your stomach. 

Already, you felt green. The unassuming hen that you had been friendly enough to for her not flip out when you held her was none the wiser that her life was about to end by your hand. You glanced over to the large wood round just ahead and the axe that was leaned up against it. 

Your face contorted as you realized how much you disliked the placement. The way your father would slaughter chickens right in front of their friends made your heart break. It was barbaric. 

You walked over to Arvin and held Patty out towards him, “Would you mind holdin’ onto her for a second?” 

Though visibly confused, he took the chicken from your hands, drawing back when her wings fluttered out at the contact with the new strange man. Arvin watched as you walked towards the large round and tried to push it with all your might. “What’re you doin’?” 

“I’m-” you grunted, feeling it slide slowly, inch by inch, “trying to move it where the other chickens can’t see.” You took another moment to use all your force against it before standing up straight and breathing heavily, “I know it sounds dumb cause they’re only chickens but it feels cruel to make ‘em watch, y’know?” You went back to pushing the round and Arvin approached behind you. 

From here he could see the blood stains in the wood. It looked as if the blood had been washed off but the wood had been stained crimson regardless. There was also a divot where an axe had clearly been driven down many times over the years, chipping away at the wood. 

Arvin’s heart actually warmed a little at your attempt to show mercy and your willingness to go out of your way to spare some chickens’ feelings. It wasn’t something he was sure he’d do himself but when he heard you say it, he realized you had a point. It was cruel to imprison a bunch of animals and then lead them out one by one to be slaughtered in front of everyone, each animal waiting their turn. “Here, take ‘er back. Let me.” Arvin stepped in, handing Patty back over to you and bending down to lift the round onto its side with much effort. The wood had to weigh at least a hundred pounds and had long since settled into the ground where it had been placed when you were a child.

Your eyes widened as you watched his biceps bulge, straining the material of his blue t-shirt. You’d never seen a man with muscles like that before and you found your eyes trailing along his arms, following every popping vein from the tops of his hands, up his forearms, and onto his biceps until they disappeared beneath his shirt. It was something you hadn’t expected to see in him. Arvin looked like a quiet, polite, hardworking young man but you never would have imagined the immaculate muscles he possessed. You found your mind wandering to what other surprises laid in store beneath all those layers he wo- 

You needed to calm yourself down. If only he could hear your thoughts, he surely would be furious and disgusted with you. You hadn’t had such impure thoughts since that one time you had been messing around with Jimmy Bates in the backseat of his old car back in your senior year of high school. The two of you didn’t even go all the way but you went far enough and the guilt ate you alive since the two of you were never officially together anyways. He was just the cute boy from high school that you had pined over years that had finally given you the chance right before he shipped off to join the war. 

“This alright?” Arvin asked, shaking you from your fantasy, and you snapped back into reality to realize he had rolled the wood round around the side of the coop behind the wooden wall, outside of the other chickens’ views. 

You nodded and walked over to him, “That’s perfect. Thank you so much for doin’ that. I know it’s sorta stupid.” 

Arvin shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, “If it means somethin’ to you, it ain’t stupid at all. Besides, now that you pointed it out, it was a little barbaric.” 

You smiled up at him, one which he returned. How was this boy so damn nice? Was this some cosmic way of the universe finally giving you something good in your life? You’d become so calloused to your father’s harsh words and barked commands that you had forgotten how nice it was to feel cared about and validated. And you barely knew him. 

“‘M glad you think so.” You looked down at Patty in your arms and any good feelings you’d had melted to sadness and fear. “You been a good girl, Patty. I know you struggled with layin’ eggs for a while but you were always a good girl. Never bit me once unlike some of them other hens.” You weren’t often very soft and vulnerable but you were about to take something’s life for the first time and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that on your heart. If this were a life or death situation, you would feel better about it, but it wasn’t. The only reason Patty had to die was because your father would throw a fit if she didn’t. 

You carried her to the log and gave her a little kiss on the top of the head, “Please don’t hate me but I understand if you do. Say hi to my momma for me, will you? Tell her I love and miss her.” You set her down and got her in the position you always saw your dad put the other chickens in before he chopped their heads off. Arvin handed you the axe with uncertainty but watched on as you struggled to bring yourself to finish the deed. 

You held her down and you could tell by the way she was flailing that she was panicking now. Patty was well aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry!” You choked, tears welling up in your eyes as her panic began to turn into your own panic. How did people do this? Why was this so freaking difficult? 

Tossing the axe slightly in your hand, you readjusted the handle and just as you went to swing, Arvin piped up, “I can do it.” 

You looked over at him, the afternoon sun reflecting the tears in your eyes and making the color of your irises stand out in tragic beauty. “I-I- Would you really not mind?” You breathed out in relief. 

Arvin stepped forward and you handed the axe out to him, “I don’t mind.” You held onto Patty until Arvin could position her just right as well. He had no idea what he was doing - he’d never had to slaughter a chicken before. He had heard that all you had to do was cut their head off though and then he’d heard the rumors of them running around like crazy even after their head hit the ground. How hard could it be? 

Once he had the hen pinned down where he wanted her, he looked up to see you chewing on your thumb, brows knitted in discomfort. It wasn’t the first chicken you’d watched get slaughtered but it was far from something you enjoyed observing. Arvin signaled to you with a nod before raising the axe above his head and you shut your eyes tight, flinching at the sound of the old metal head thudding into the old wood. 

**

You had the carcass sitting in the sink while you pulled off the blood soaked feathers, depositing them into the trash bin by the handful. This part was easier for you, something you’d done many times in the past. “Thank you for doin’ that. I’m sorry I’m such a baby.” 

Arvin sat at the kitchen table behind you, “You ain’t a baby just cause you don’t like to kill things. I’d say it’s probably rather normal.” 

The time was inching closer to four o’clock now and the sun was beginning to hang ever so slightly lower in the sky, the precursor to sunset. It was warm outside and a cool spring breeze blew in through the open window above the sink. You snickered as you pulled another handful of feathers out, “Yeah? That mean you ain’t normal?” You looked over at him with a playful glint in your eye but your smile fell when you saw an uncomfortable look cross his face, almost like he’d seen a ghost. 

“I ain’t never said I liked killin’ either.” Arvin attempted to match your joking tone but it was pretty evident there was a weight behind his words. 

“Hey, I‘m sorry. I was only jokin’.” A pang of guilt washed over you but it was only that. A joke. You hadn’t imagined teasing him over something like killing a chicken would set him off, especially since he volunteered to do it for you, but apparently you were wrong. 

Arvin sniffed and scratched his nose, “I know.” After a moment of awkward silence, he stood, “Let me give you a hand. What do you need done?” 

You scanned his face once more to make sure he was really okay but you decided to drop it when you saw his insistent look. You shook your head, “I got it. It ain’t much after I get this all gutted and cleaned.” You picked up the mostly featherless carcass by the wings and plopped it back down into the sink. 

“Well ‘m sure there’s vegetables or somethin’ else that goes with it, right? Let me start cuttin’ those up.” His persistence was adorable, making your heart flutter in the most wonderful way. The idea of a man actually being helpful was unknown to you before Arvin. Your life had been filled with your dad’s drunken bossings since you were twelve years old. You couldn’t remember the last time a genuinely kind voice offered you anything more than a smile on the street, not that you took that for granted. Arvin was just different though. Noble and helpful and kind. 

“You really don’t have to-” 

“Yeah, you keep sayin’ that but I really do want to help. So what can I do to make things easier on you?” He took a few steps closer to you until you felt the beginning of what could have been sparks if he stepped any nearer, like when you hold two magnets a few inches apart and you can feel the energy between them, that hint of attraction, but it’s not quite close enough to pull them together. 

The blush in your cheeks at his simple gesture made you break the eye contact with a nervous laugh of retreat, “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna be so insistent,” you drew out with a teasing drawl, “you can cut up veggies. There’s potatoes over there and carrots and zucchini in the fridge.” 

Arvin’s lips turned up in a small smile when you finally resigned your stubborn ways and he went off to find the vegetables where you had directed him. 

Needless to say, when your father came home from the bar to find you and Arvin talking over a song by the Platters playing on the radio with Arvin cleaning up the dishes while you tossed together the vegetables and the seasoning, he was less than pleased. 

“What the hell is going on here?” His slurred speech made your eyes widen in fear. He was supposed to get home later like he always did. But then you found yourself chiding your irresponsibility. Why the hell would you take that chance? You knew better than to let Arvin help out and now you were gonna pay. 

Arvin sensed the way you tensed up beside him and watched as you spun around to face your father with haste, “Just finishin’ up dinner now. Should be ready by six so you got more than enough time to take a sho-” 

“Why the fuck is he doin’ the dishes?” You father was leaning against the wall, clearly relying on the structure for support. This wasn’t the time to test him, not with Arvin here. It was times like this when he’d start throwing stuff at you. 

Before you could say anything, Arvin piped up firmly but respectfully, “I offered, sir. It’s no problem at all.” 

Your dad pointed at Arvin, “A man ain’t got no place with his hands in a sink of dishes. You leave that shit to her and she’ll just grab you a beer.” He stumbled over his own feet before catching himself ungracefully. 

Arvin’s jaw set tightly and you gripped the countertop with white knuckles behind you. Times like this, you weren’t even sure what to say anymore. No amount of standing up for yourself got you anywhere with him. You never made any headway with your dad’s sexist views on gender roles. It was pointless. The only thing to do was try and work your way to supporting yourself so you could get the hell out of dodge and never look back. 

Arvin’s voice surprised you, “A man’s place is helpin’ out the women in his life when they need, not leavin’ ‘em to do all the housework themselves.” You nearly choked on your own tongue at his words. It was a bold statement for a man to make, especially to the head of the house that was being so gracious as to host him free of charge, but he didn’t back down. It appeared like the jab was lost on your drunken father but Arvin continued with a slightly less accusatory comment to diffuse the situation regardless, “I grew up helpin’ my grandma with all the house chores so I really don’t mind at all.” 

You watched the way your dad eyed Arvin and then you before scoffing and grumbling incoherently as he shuffled his way into the living room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I don’t want you gettin’ kicked out ‘cause of me. You didn’t have to say nothin’.” 

Arvin glared at where your father had disappeared and nodded, “Yeah, I did. You don’t deserve all the shit he gives you.” 

You suddenly found yourself avoiding his eyes and twisting your lips. He was right and you were well aware of that fact. The abuse your dad put you through was uncalled for at best. The fact that Arvin had actually taken the time to not only notice the same fact but acknowledge it and stand up for you was something you never thought you’d hear someone do. It made you uncomfortable. You’d been fighting this battle by yourself for so long that letting somebody even know it was being waged was enough to make you want to sink away. Even so, a part of you wanted to let Arvin keep standing up for you. It made you feel weak after having to stand up for yourself for so long but also validated. 

Your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a moment before turning back towards dinner that sat in a roasting pan on the stove, “Thank you.” 

______

Taglist: 

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

[anadorablekiwi]

So Cradle Your Head In Your Hands (And Breathe)

Oh look, another comfort fic. Wonder where this came from definitely not projection no sire

Anyways, its got depression and fluff and comfort, the works. Mostly just posting this because I’m gonna lose it (the fic) if I don’t

Eli sat in front of her fireplace on the living room rug, legs crossed and watching the fire burn.

She had been sitting like this for hours.

The only reason she even ate dinner was her fairy companion Rowi brought her some, and Eli had no idea where Rowi got it from (nor was she going to ask).

Rowi hovered next to her, trying to get Eli to say anything.

“Come on fayetta, talk to me. What can i do to help? Would you like me to go get Link?”

“No.” Eli paused and sighed. “I’m fine Rowi, but thank you.”

“Fayetta you have been like this for three days, i beg to differ.” The little fairy huffed, then began again, calmer this time. “But if you don’t want my help, i wont force it. Just call me if you want anything, okay?”

Eli nodded, and the fairy flew off.

The brunette shivered, but didn’t move to grab the blanket on the couch beside her.

Too far, too much work.

She didn’t know how much longer she sat there for, watching the fire slowly die.

Until suddenly she felt a warmth on her shoulders.

Startled, she looked up, finding Link looking down at her, kindness and compassion and concern in his eyes. Wordlessly, He wrapped the soft blanket around her shoulders more tightly, placed a couple logs on the dying fire, then sat down right next to her.

“Depression relapse?”

Eli sighed, exhausted and drained from her own mind.

Link accepted that as an answer and pulled her closer to him, wrapping her in an enveloping hug and chasing away all the cold. He began gently stroking her hair and she finally let herself relax into the embrace.

“You know, Pixie, if you just ask one of us, we’ll be here, ready and happy to help you.”

She buried her face in his chest, slightly muffling her voice. “I didn’t want to bother you. And-” seemingly have changed her mind, no more words came.

Link sighed and just held her closer. “You’d like more affection and reassurance, but if you ask, ‘forcing us to love you?’”

Her silence spoke volumes.

He released the embrace and cradled her head in his hands, lifting her chin up gently. “Eli. Eli, I need you to look at me. Please.”

Reluctantly, her eyes met his.

“We love you, whether you ask us to or not. Me, Zelda, Rowi, everyone. Heck, even if you asked us to not love you, we’d love you anyways. There is absolutely nothing you can do to stop us. You are not annoying, we love having you around, we enjoy your company and have missed you greatly these last few days. And no, Rowi did not come to get me. Zelda and I were worried, so I came to check up on you. We’re your friends, and we care about you.”

Eli looked back at him, her vision blurring as her eyes welled up with tears. She sniffled, and a tear began to fall.

Link gently wiped it away with his thumb, then embraced her again, letting Eli cry into his shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, until Eli’s tears had dried and she had drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Link smiled softly, then looked up and nodded at the fairy watching through the window. Truth be told, Rowi had not been the reason he came to check up on Eli. But he did meet her part way, and she explained, admitting to having been on her way to get him despite Eli’s protest.

He carefully picked up the sleeping hero and carried her to her bedroom, tucking her in and laying the blanket atop her bedding. He brushed the hair out of her face and gave her a gentle forehead kiss, then left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

“Hey Rowi, can you-”

“I’ll go fill Zelda in, and tell her you’ll be staying here tonight as well.” The fairy’s affection and familiarity with the situation shone through I’m her voice.

Link smiled. “Thanks, Rowi. You’re the best.”

The fairy fluttered off, and Link found spare paper and a pencil, writing Eli a note that he was staying the night, and would be in the next room over if she needs or wants anything. He quietly returned to her room, placing the note and a glass of water on her bedside table.

Link then made his way to the guest bedroom, which was practically his secret bedroom at this point. He left the door open and laid down on the far side of the bed, knowing that when Eli inevitably awoke during the night she would make her way to his bed, seeking more comfort and cuddles. He left the faint magical fairy-shaped light on the bedside table on, then laid down himself.

He was willing and ready to go through this routine every time Eli’s depression flared until she learned how to reach out and ask for help, or the end of time. Whichever came first.

~

(Rowi made sure the fire in the fireplace was safely extinguished)

[glorified-red]

1/2 Hello! Can I please request a Jason Todd x asexual! reader where the reader never wants sex. Jason and the reader have been together for a couple of years and Jason knows that the reader is asexual and is absolutely fine with it and doesn’t care. But the reader has been feeling insecure lately about her sexuality and she is scared that Jason would be happier if they had sex and that Jason will become frustrated with their relationship and leave her. She starts to feel really sad and ...

Thank you so much for the request love! I apologize this isn't a fic but I do not write fics for Jason x reader. I do write headcanons for him though! I hope you enjoy this little compromise and if you don't then feel free to request something else, I’d be more than happy to write for you again :)

Jason with an Asexual s/o

word count: 1040~

warnings: I am not on the ace spectrum nor is this the only image of asexuality, mentions of sex but nothing explicit

Huge thanks to @offendedfishnoises and @multifandomgirl-us for helping me learn about asexuality and plan out this request <3 They're amazing lovelies

Your relationship with Jason has been going on for quite a while, long enough for you to know his secret identity, his past trauma, you even met his family

Its been long enough to see just how much of a touch oriented person Jason is

He loved having his hands on you, whether they sat comfortably around your waist, intertwined with yours, or settling for the nape of your neck, rubbing gentle circles into your hair line

The further your relationship went, the less innocent his touches got

He didn't necessarily want anything to go anywhere, he just loves the trust you have in him to do something so intimately close

So his hands travel to your hips, to lay on your stomach as you two cuddle, sometimes even inching his way under the back of your shirt to lightly scratch your back

Jason didn't think much of the touches until one particular night

The two of you were happily dozing off, you were settled in Jason’s hold, basking in the warmth of his chest against your back

It was a nice moment, relaxing with each other

That is until Jason lightly touched your chest from under your shirt, nuzzling into the back of your neck, bring you ever so close to him

He noticed immediately when you tensed, surprised when you grabbed his wrist and moved it away from your chest, placing it gently onto your waist instead

From then on Jason was extremely attentive to what touches you liked and disliked, lest he make you uncomfortable in anyway

He was quite disappointed in himself for not noticing a few things sooner

How you preferred to kiss his cheek over his lips, opting for pecks instead of longer kisses

How you would initiate the touch of leaning your head on his shoulder but not cuddles

Even how you got stiff when he touched you first in any new areas

Jason didn't want to mess things up with you, if he’s learned anything from your time together it was how to communicate his feelings better

He wanted to give you the same kind of compassion you always showed him

So he asked you, point blank, no beating around the bush, no warnings, nothing

Just you and him together in the kitchen, Jason casually sipping away at his coffee and you making yourself a meal

“Babe, as much as I like your cardboard impersonation, I think we need to talk about your boundaries.”

To say you dropped your fork in shock was an understatement

You trusted Jason with your life, but when you asked him what he meant you couldn't help but feel a jolt of anxiety shoot through your body, fingers trembling as your picked up the dropped fork

Thats when Jason told you his observations, laying everything flat out like it was obvious, before asking where the line between comfort and uncomfortableness was for you in terms of touch

Then you told him, you told him exactly where the line was, how you felt about touch, and finally, that you were asexual

Jason was very accepting of it in his own way, he never blew it out of proportion, never really brought it up again, and tried to be as careful as he could be to respect the boundaries you gave him

He honestly didn't really care

But as the days progressed, you kept thinking back onto his words of you being like cardboard

Jason was a touchy person, so it made sense he would want to have sex with you right? 

Frustration crept into your thoughts until you decided to ‘fix’ things

You started hugging him more, making sure to linger a bit longer than usual so he can notice your efforts

Holding hands far more often than necessary, often times he'd have to switch your hand positioning so he could still go about his daily activities while appreciating the touch

But the kicker was when you kissed him hard on the lips

It was a frantic spur-of-the-moment thing and you were tense the whole time, eyes scrunched shut as a testament to how out of character it was for you

The second he noticed your stiff body language, Jason pulled away

“Sweetheart, I want you but not like this.”

cue heart shattering noises

You quickly stuttered out an explanation, going deep into your insecurities and frustrations until you were left as a crying mess in front of him

He lets you finish, holding his hands out for you to grab if your feeling up to it

If you do, he won't hesitate to pull you into a bear hug, tucking your head under his chin

If you don't, he's more than happy to comfort you with his words instead

“I don't care if you want sex with me or not, thats not why I started dating you. Hell, I’d put a ring on that damn finger of yours right now if I could because you're the one I want to marry someday.”

He'd take your head in his hands and kiss the top of your head

“Ace or not, you're perfect.”

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@bungunz

@red-hood-redemption ​

[all-about-seggs]

A Fine Specimen-

Rating : 18+, Mature, Yandere-verse

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x female reader.

Word count : 2.3k

Warning's : Dark themes, Yandere behaviour, non-con, drugging, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, vaginal sex.

The lights on the low run down ceiling kept flickering, as you try your best to pull yourself out of your trance. The room was dark except for the surgical lights pointed straight on your figure, it seemed like an abandoned operation theatre, or atleast it should be, considering its dingy state. Every effort of looking around and trying to make sense of your current predicament has been futile, even staying level headed in this strange place was a constant struggle.

Your entire body felt heavy despite the fact that you didn’t even had a thread of clothing on you, the cold air of the room hitting you body made another alarm go off in your head. You’d think you were strapped to the cold hard examination table but it was simply the numbness of your limbs that prevented you from moving. Panic started to flood through your system as you racked your brain for any possible reasoning, as to why you were being treated like a test subject. Sure you lived in a society filled with supernatural beings but you were nothing if not normal.

The gradually increasing sound of footsteps pulled you out of your reverie but judging by the situation your in, it most likely wasn’t a good thing. Soon the person who enters, will see you at your most vulnerable, half conscious and naked state, it was humiliating but you had to pull yourself together if you wanted to survive.

Your sleep laden eyes were the only part that you could move but the light shining above you made it quite straining to focus so you stayed still.

A shadow casted itself upon you indicating the person who entered was tall, probably a male and stronger too. In your current state he made you feel like a rag doll as he stared at your form. You’d describe him as a hunter sizing up his prey if you could see his eyes, which were covered by a blindfold. But that wasn’t the only thing peculiar about him, his hair was as white as snow, the lights above you giving him an otherworldly glow when he leaned on you. His pink lips that looked so smooth, shined with the slightest movement. His beautiful features screamed perfect not creep.

“Hellooo~ Y/n chan, are you awake?…..”, He asked in a sing song voice and a smile on his lips that contrasted with the sombre atmosphere of the room.

So he knew your name? It’s not surprising if he was the one who brought you here, but it was the first time you met this person and he had enough quirks that anyone would remember even without having to converse with him. You were barely managing to keep your eyes half open and speaking seemed far too big of a struggle, your body wasn’t listing to you since the moment you woke up so all you could do was wait for him to explain himself, if he’s even planning to.

A few seconds passed in silence before the white haired man continued, “You probably don’t remember but you were attacked. By a curse, I mean.”

His tone held no compassion as his cheery voice continued, “ You were hurt pretty badly and almost got swallowed, but I made it in time so it’s all right now. You need to get examined for any signs of trauma or any other serious injuries, it’s just that your doctor is running a bit late so I decided to take over”, his face drew closer as he practically breathed on your lips, the warmth radiating from his body almost giving you a false sense of relief that was short lived when you felt his hand cup your breast.

“ You don’t mind right?, I’ll make sure to throughly check each.and.every.detail”, he cooed against your ear giving your cold breast a soft squeeze the stranger left feather light kisses up your neck. You may not be a medical expert but even you knew no medical examinations include foreplay. Your body was still as stiff as a rock and even if you were injured it seemed unusual for you to lose the entire control of your limbs and voice, so you put all your strength into pulling out a broken scream from your clogged throat. It was a futile effort but you couldn’t just let yourself be fondled by some stranger who clearly didn’t looked or acted sound of mind.

“ What’s wrong y/n? Didn’t that felt good?”, There was obvious confusion in his tone, as if he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have your consent but as outrageous as it seemed to you his touch felt good, comforting even. His touch was the only thing that gave you warmth since you regained consciousness and maybe it’s your dazed state or the fact that you’ve been lying on this hard surface or its in his superficial beauty that was making your body feel at ease instead of tensing up.

The murky room that previously made you shiver, now felt warm with a sweet scent in the air, “ Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you~”, he whispered softly in your ear, moving your breasts tenderly so as to not cause you any pain, and then lightly he rolled your perked up nipple between his fingers, delighting at the sight of your face twisting up in pleasure you can’t refuse.

He tilted your chin upwards to gain more access to your throat and started sucking a trail of red marks from your jaw to the valley between your breasts, they felt tingly and soft at first, his kisses lighting you’re numb body on fire, a feeling that was undeniably delightful albeit forceful.

“ Not gonna put on a fight now sweetheart? What a good girl you are!”, His voice took a maniacal pitch, but his smile appeared to be of genuine nature as if he really did wanted to take care of you.

“ Let’s get serious now shall we?”, Saying that he moved towards your legs, he bent over your naked pussy and parted your thighs as much as your currently stiff body allowed. It was clear to him that you wanted to protest, wanted to hide yourself and run away but your slightly parted lips that couldnt make out any screams of pain or pleasure, those half lidded eyes which were struggling to focus on what was happening to the rest of your body, it was all part of what made your current violator’s desire surge through his blood .

His hand that parted your legs gave the inner part of your thighs a gentle pinch, as he kept on stroking the soft flesh. Moving his left hand inbetween them he reached for your glistening nether lips beneath curls of pubic hair, with two of his long thick fingers he pried them open. Licking his lips like he was about to devour a delicious meal he brought his face closer to your sex until his tongue made contact with your clit. He took the tiny nodule in his mouth and gave it a hard suck making you shiver and with that, every ounce of fight left in you died as you started to surrender yourself to his touch that promised the kind of tantalizing euphoria you’ve never imagine possible.

Your body was beginning to heat up to the point of burning as your senses started catching up to the white haired guy’s mouth which relentlessly worked your clit back and forth. Slipping two fingers of his right hand in your tight cunt, he made more of your white hot cum flow out, your face was the picture of bliss as he kept on licking your slick covered pussy. He shoved his fingers inside you harder and faster until you began tightening around him, your pussy started convulsing when that coil of pleasure unwinding in the pit of your stomach reached its peak. With a slight squeeze of his digits you came on his face, just like he wanted you to.

He smiled while watching you come down from your high, the mess your quivering body made was a beautiful sight for him and he wanted to savour every second of it. You though the fire that he kindled inside you would calm down after you came but your body kept on shaking even when your orgasm had ended. It was like your body was not yours anymore, like it didn’t belong to you but the guy who was in front of you. It was only when he was touching you that made your senses come back to yourself and as soon as he drew away you were left unable to control even a single limb of yours.

“ I’m glad to see it was enjoyable for you my sweetness, although I couldn’t swallow all it, I think i was able to get a good enough taste of you”, he spoke in a low baritone. “ I really wanted to hear your cute voice crying out for me but I suppose I went overboard with your medications, so I guess that won’t be happening”, his tone lacked regret but atleast now you knew why your body was acting funny and how this person was insane if he thinks drugging you is giving medication, despite your reasoning all rationality had already left your brain, only leaving you with an unquenchable thirst for his touch.

From the corner of your eye you could see him swiftly unzipping his pants to take out his hard member. He mounted on you still palming his hard on and it only now dawned on you just how huge he was, his body completely enveloped yours making you feel small as he planted one hand beside your head. He leaned down to kiss your parted lips, slipping his tongue inside, you could taste the remnants of your cum on it when he licked the roof of your mouth. His kiss was so hard it almost felt like he was sucking the life out of you not stopping until your consciousness started to waver again.

“ Haaaa… Sorry, I got carried away, breath for me cupcake, Its no good if I have to hump your unconscious body.”, With that he placed his right hand on the back of your knee and pushed it all the way up to your chest, this new position giving him more access to your still swollen and trembling cunt.

In one smooth motion he was buried deep in you, the slick from your last orgasm gave him enough lubrication that he started moving immediately. His pace was fast, but not violently so. It was the right amount of deep and long as he pulled himself out until only his tip remain inside of you before pushed it in again. He watched your reactions intently as he maintained his steady pace, though mildly, you were still able to contort your face like anyone who is being fucked so good. Soon you felt your second orgasm approach and he speed up his own actions to chase his high as well.

“ Gojo…..Satoru…..”, He said inbetween his rhythmic thrusts, “ that’s my name, so let me make you….. remember …it…..”, With a few more hard thrusts a familiar pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock making him follow you soon after.

Panting heavily, he leaned down to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he calmed himself down. He didn’t pull himself out until both of your heavy breaths became steady, still looming over you. Raising his head he licked your lips, and with a low growl against your mouth he put one of his hand on your throat, wrapping itself around it completely, his actions sent a shiver up your spine. He started putting pressure on only some very particular spots, causing your eyes to roll back, making the already delicate state of consciousness to fade. But before you felt yourself getting knocked out you heard him speak again.

“Next time…… I’ll make you say it”, he said calmly as the man named Satoru withdrew his hands from your neck.

[gc-genshin]

Lassitude

Lassitude (noun): a state of physical or mental weariness; lack of energy.

Pairing: Diluc X female reader

Warnings: One swear word

A/N: This is part of a future chapter for my ongoing series Monachopsis but can also be read as a stand alone! Happy reading!

Sitting cross legged on the chair next to the fireplace at the Dawn Winery mansion, you enjoyed the warmth it radiated and hoped that eventually the crackling sound of the flames would lull you to sleep. 

You blankly stared at the flames with half lidded eyes as your head sat atop of your fist that was propped on the armrest of the chair. However, your eyes widened slightly when you felt the familiar warm presence that all Pryo vision holders radiated before you heard the creaking of stairs as it made its way down. But his was fainter than usual. 

You straightened up in your chair and turned to look at the owner of the winery. As you watched him, you instantly became worried as you took in his appearance. His form was sluggish with his shoulders slouched and his hair was disheveled, loose from his normal ponytail. You knew something was wrong. 

“Diluc?” You softly call out, as to not startle him, when he made it to the bottom of the stairs. 

You saw Diluc tense slightly when hearing his name. He turned to look at you and you immediately took notice of the dark circles that he adorned and the exhaustion that laid in his vermillion eyes. “Is everything alright?” 

Diluc examined your form. They way that it was illuminated by the soft orange glow of the fireplace, giving you the perfect amount of shadow and highlight, the way your face was contorted with concern for his well-being and the way your (e/c) eyes shone with not just worry but also with adoration and warmth. 

Adoration that he did not deserve. 

He slowly walked to you. He took note of the way you quickly became more alert. As he moved closer, he took in your facial features. How your hair frames your face to how your (s/c) skin was scarred and blemished yet looked perfect in his eyes. The curve of your nose, your cheekbones, your bright eyes, the dip of the Cupid's bow on your lips, to your toned yet slender body from the many battles that you had fought. It was all perfect to him. 

You were perfect to him. 

“(Y/n)…” He said as he finally made it to your seated figure. You tilt your head and give him a small, encouraging smile as you patiently wait for him to say what he wants to say. 

The fact that you knew him so well, the fact that you knew something was bothering him.  It never ceases to amaze him. From the first time you both met, to the accident, and now to the present. You were always able to read him like an open book and was always so patient with him. Never once looking at him with hatred nor resentment, but with understanding and compassion. 

He did not deserve your kindness. 

You stared up at Diluc. A few moments of silence passed before Diluc averted his gaze from you. This made you even more concerned, but you calmed down as soon as you saw him slightly open his arms out to the side. A universally understood gesture that asked for a hug. 

But he wanted to be selfish. Like how you told him that it was okay to be. 

You didn't hesitate to stand up from your chair and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, having to step on your tiptoes in order to do so. Diluc immediately snaked his arms around your waist and squeezed as if you were his life line. He buried his face deep into the crook of your neck and shakily inhaled.

Your heart clenched at the sound. This young man that has been through so much, that carries such a heavy burden on his shoulders. A burden that he was willing to carry. You began to card your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp every once in a while in hopes that it would soothe him some. 

“Oh Diluc…” you began, “you break my heart.” You tell him softly. You begin to slowly rock side to side as if you were calming down a young child. 

Your statement made Diluc tighten his hold on you. “I'm sorry.” He whispered, which made you tighten your hold on him in return. 

“I prayed every night, to whoever was listening, to look after you,” You began to tear up. “to keep you safe.” Your voice cracked. “Seeing you bear so many burdens and responsibilities… you really do break my heart sometimes.”

Diluc was a silent crier. He never made any noise when he did cry. So when tears began to fall from his eyes, all he could manage was a quivering exhale. You prayed for him. You worried about him so much that you would ask the gods to watch over him. You cared for him so much and he was just now realizing it. 

Archons he was so fucking stupid. 

You began to feel your neck become wet. Your eyes widen at the sensation and you felt a few tears fall from your own eyes. Not once have you ever seen Diluc cry. But you didn't pull away from the hug. You knew Diluc hated showing any kind of weakness to anyone and you knew that you were no exception, so you patiently waited for him to calm down while continuing to sway back and forth. 

After he had finally settled down, you slowly pulled back from him. As Diluc kept his head down to avoid eye contact with you when you looked at him, you brought both hands to gently cradle his face. Feeling your warm hands against his cheeks made him look up at you. His eyes widened when he saw your own glazed over with tears but before he could do anything about them, you ran your thumbs underneath his eyes to catch the stray tears that had fallen. You held him with such tenderness and looked up at him with eyes full of reassurance telling him that it was okay to cry, that it was okay to let everything out every once in a while. 

You both just look at each other in silence, with your smile never once leaving your face. You slowly brought your forehead to rest on his own as you both basked in each other's warmth. 

And with one last exhale… Diluc returned your smile, finally feeling at peace in your presence. 

This was my first attempt at writing anything remotely sad so it’s pretty ehhhh, but hopefully when I actually get to this chapter I’ll have more experience and tweak it a little bit.

Anyways, thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are always welcomed!

[yandere-daydreams]

Kinktober - Day Three

Prompt: Hate Fuck

Pairing: Atsumu/Reader/Osamu (Haikyuu!!)

TW: Non-Con,  F.Reader, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Mentions of Bullying, Degradation, Groping, and Emotional Manipulation.  

You knew better than to accept drinks at these kinds of parties.

Drinks poured by Atsumu, especially, the boy who’d been out for your blood since the first year of high school, when you’d done something so unforgiving and irredeemable, you must’ve repressed the memory. Half of your short life had been spent fending off his pranks and teases, and even if he’d never done more than follow you home or brag about his budding athletic career, you were smart enough to know not to test his moral compass. You were in college, now, and although Atsumu hadn’t gotten any more mature, he’d certainly gotten more dangerous. You were smart enough to keep your distance. You were smart enough not to spend any more time in his company than you had to. You were smart enough to turn down anything and everything he offered, especially if it came in the form of a red, plastic cup filled with something too bitter for any other flavor to be noticeable.

But, Atsumu hadn’t been the one to offer it.

Osamu had.

Osamu, who always defended you when his brother refused to grow past childish antics. Osamu, who walked you to your classes, and sat with you at lunch, and acted as your silent, skeptical guardian angel for far longer than he had to. Osamu, who invited you to a party he promised his twin didn’t know about, and who seemed genuinely surprised when Atsumu turned up regardless. Who’d given you a drink and helped you down it with a smile and a softness in his eyes, and when you complained about a headache half an hour later, brought you to an empty room on the second floor, told you to lay down, and shoved you onto the bed when you hesitated. Osamu, who hadn’t seemed the least bit fazed when Atsumu let himself in, already laughing as your eyes struggled to stay open and you failed to babble something coherent enough be recognized as a call for help.

You should’ve expected it. You should’ve known. They were twins, after all.

You were starting to think being awful was just a built-in feature, for the Miyas.

“Such a fucking whore.” Osamu was the one who’d done the dirty-work, the one who’d drugged you and held you down as your thoughts muddled themselves into blurry, faded shapes, barely identifiable as ideas, but Atsumu was the one running his mouth. He hadn’t wasted time, prying your limp legs apart despite your attempts to take them closed and settling in the space between them, kneeling on the cheap, stiff mattress of some frat’s guestroom. “Look at ‘er,” He went on, talking more to himself than his brother. “Bet baby’s been dying to get fucked since we met.”

“You’re the only one who can’t go five minutes without gettin’ his dick wet.” Osamu’s voice was flat, nearly as passive as it always was, and while you couldn’t see his expression, you doubted it’d reveal anything more explicit. Atsumu was content to sit in front of you, to let his stare burn into your skin like this was the last time he’d ever see you, but Osamu seemed more comfortable with your back slotted against his chest, your form slumped against his as he did what he could to drag you closer, to keep you closer, one arm crossed over your midriff while the other idly groped at your chest, your shirt and bra already discarded.

It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel like much of anything, honestly. Your head and your body were disconnected, one filled with cotton while the other felt like lead, like metal, like dead-weight that didn’t belong to you. The only reason you were he was touching you at all were the steady pangs of warmth, the blunt pressure of his nails digging too far into your skin, the way soft, feeble whimpers kept slipping past your slightly parted lips, your mind too foggy to do anything to close it. Everything was foggy. Everything was heavy. You thought you might’ve fallen asleep, by now, if you’d been able to.

“Don’t listen to him,” Osamu whispered, hot breath ghosting over your neck. Sticky, smoldering, lingering even when he’d pulled away, keeping his mouth busy with the edge of your jaw between words. “The creep’s been talkin’ about this for a decade. Wrote about it in his stupid little diary and everything.”

Atsumu scoffed, rolling his eyes as he took hold of your knees, edging your legs further apart. “I never had a diary, asshole.”

“Fine,” Osamu mumbled, pulling away from your chest to toy with your waistband. “Your stupid ‘dream journal’, or whatever.”

Atsumu didn’t deny it. He was preoccupied, now, your shorts pulled down to your thighs and his eyes left to rake over the newly exposed skin. You wanted to cover yourself. You wanted to run, but you could barely get your fingers to twitch at your sides as Atsumu cupped your cunt, his index finger running down the length of your covered slit. Every sensation was muffled, stifled, kept at arm’s length, but for whatever reason, Osamu’s sedatives weren’t merciful enough to dampen the friction, the feeling of Atsumu’s fingers just barely brushing against you. Your shallow breaths hitched, your whimpers turning into something pitchy, something startled, something scared. “The little bitch doesn’t even know she should be enjoyin’ this,” Atsumu laughed, crouching down just far enough to kiss your collarbone. “Don’t worry, princess. You made us wait, but I ain't mad. This’ll be as good for you as it’s gonna be for us.”

The pad of his thumb pressed against your clit with a clumsy, half-hearted roughness, igniting a spark that make your lungs tighten into your rib cage and your legs go rigid. You found the will to squirm, to shake your head as you tried to do anything that might stop him from poking and prodding and rubbing those quick, terrible circles, but it was Osamu’s turn to stop you, a hand pushing itself flat against your stomach as his other caught you by the chin, encouraging you to press your cheek against his shoulder as he hummed, cooing at you, trying to calm you down while his brother worked. “C’mon, ‘s alright, I promise,” He reeassured, but the words were hollow, distracted. “I’m here, so ‘tsumu won't hurt you. We’re both gonna love you, alright? You don’t gotta cry.”

You were crying? Oh, you were, you could feel it now, soaking into his shirt and rubbing against your cheek, creating something that fell between itchy and painful. The awareness only made you more desperate, your whimpers turning into sobs and your sobs becoming prattling, nonsense, a babbling so frantic, you hardly knew what you were saying by the time the words were off your tongue. “Stop,” You gasped, going on despite Osamu’s thumb push its way into your mouth, hooking around the corner of your lips in an attempt to shut you up without keeping you quiet. “You can’t-- I don’t wanna... I don’t want you to touch me--”

You didn’t get a chance to finish. Before you could, someone kissed you, shoved his tongue down your throat while you choked and whined and tried to stop your teeth from scraping against the invader’s. It hurt, it felt like you were suffocating, and you didn’t even know who was doing it, whose hand was around your throat as he pinned you against whichever twin was watching. You guess it really didn’t matter, though. You guess it’d never really mattered.

Atsumu and Osamu both hated you. They both had to hate you.

They wouldn’t still be smiling like that, if they didn't.

[dracosaurusrex]

Found (Draco x Reader)

“ The boy looked at you in awe. There you were right beneath him, as if the universe had orchestrated this scenario perfectly. ”

Summary: When Draco and Y/N find each other after losing one another in their past life.

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Prompt:  “I wish we could be together in another life” // “I promise I’ll be looking for you in each one” (From @minty-malfoy 300wc)

A/N: If you saw me frantically post this a number of times, it’s because it wasn’t popping up in the tags :/ Anywayy, I took a chance to retell the myth behind the constellation, Draco and infuse it with the characters. I thought it was fun, and I hope you enjoy reading!

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The skies were painted with pink and orange hues as the sun began to set upon Mount Atlas, home to Hera’s garden. Rooted heavily within it was a beautiful tree. One that bore fruit to sparkling, golden apples. It was a wedding gift from Gaia. A gift so precious that the young goddess had begged for it to be planted in her garden, which was filled with life itself. Lush trees covered its perimeter, flowers of every species bloomed with much radiance, and golden rays of light scattered through every nook and cranny. Lacing through the landscape were small creeks and springs, which nurtured the tree to its prime state of beauty. It is these that the nymphs of the evening, also known as the Hesperides, were entrusted by Hera to tend and protect. 

There were three of them: Hesperia, Erytheia, and you, Aigle. You all were a playful bunch who truly loved Hera’s garden. However, moments spent under the sun led to a heightened craving as the golden apples shined with temptation. Enter, Ladon, a grand-looking serpentine dragon who coiled himself around the beautiful tree. Hera had summoned him to protect it after several attempts had been made by you and your sisters to steal some of the fruit for yourselves. 

His body was decorated with scales of majestic shades comprising ivory, platinum, silver, and champagne. His talons presented themselves with intimidation, fangs comparable to the size of daggers, and his eyes flashed a striking blue hue filled with a look of ambition and purpose. The creature was the epitome of beauty and fright. 

His presence was effective in keeping your sisters away--they scoured at the sight of him--but the case was quite different for you. Instead of being overcome by fear, you found yourself marveling at him. Every time you rose from your slumber, he was always there, zealously fulfilling his task. He was immortal and he never slept, yet his appearance was as just astounding as the day before. Because of this, you took every opportunity possible to be around him, to bask in his presence, to simply admire him. Today was no different.

The grass felt soft under your steps, and the sunset glowed as fervently as ever. You sped through the maze of trees, chasing rays of light as it slowly reduced into a specks. The wind blew through your honey brown locks as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. The golden tree was in sight, and wrapped around it, like always, was beautiful Ladon. The serpent lifted his head at the sight of the beautiful nymph as she slowed her steps.

“Are you here to bother me again, Aigle?” Annoyance fills his voice, but it doesn’t shift her stance.

“Oh Ladon, your words harm me so. Nevertheless, I can never find myself to be apart from you.” A giggle accompanied your voice as you spoke. 

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“What do you want?” Ladon was accustomed to Aigle and her antics. Every single evening since his arrival, she’d spend her time doing whatever in the presence of the dragon. Despite the cold demeanor he often showed, he was very tolerant of her bubbly behavior. Moreover, he found himself to enjoy her company--it made him feel less lonely as he guarded the tree.

“I would just like to sit with you today, if that’s alright.” She said as she approached the base of the tree. After her countless visits, Ladon memorized her actions, behaviors, and even her mannerisms. He knew firmly well that Aigle wouldn’t steal the fruit. He huffed in response to her request.

“If you won’t say anything else, I’ll take your silence as a yes.” The dragon made no sound, so with a beaming smile she seats herself, leaning against the trunk in peace.

“How was your slumber?” He asks gently. Ladon gazes at her pleasant expression from the top of the branches.

“It was pleasant, I had a wonderful dream.” 

“And that is?” Her eyes open to return his gaze, animating with glee in the process.

“Humans with magical powers, Ladon! They were like the Gods and Goddesses, except that cultivated their skills through special schooling!” Excitement filled her voice as she stared into his blue orbs intently.

“They don’t sound like the Gods and Goddesses to me.” He snorted.

“Oh don’t be such a killjoy! It was truly wonderful! They dressed so differently too! It was quite peculiar, but it was alright.” The dragon only scoffs in response.

The ground surrounding the nymph had sprouted with blossoms as a result of her fascination. As silence loomed in the air, an idea came into mind. She gently plucked the small flowers. From her fingertips, she then produced small, thin vines. With much precision and swiftness, she interweaved the two together, tied up the ends, forming a dainty flower crown. 

“Ladon,” She called out from beneath him. The dragon looked down as she stood from her spot. With the flower crown in her hands, she reaches, delicately placing her creation on top of his head. Ladon huffed.

“What is this?” He asks.

“A gift, for you! I knew it’d look good on you.” The intensity of Ladon’s eyes softened at Aigle. He was known, by others, for his fright, yet when he was around her, he was appreciated for the beauty she saw in him. The creature didn’t say much with the exception of producing yet another huff. Although, this time it was filled with contentment.

Aigle ran her hands up and down his snout, caressing his face with much gentleness. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch in response.

“You’re a beautiful creature, you know that, do you?” Her voice seemingly dripped of nectar as she spoke. When the dragon didn’t speak, she continued.

“Do you think I can meet you in another life? Just like this one?” 

“What’s wrong with this one?” His striking eyes opened to peer into hers.

“Nothing’s wrong. I like it a lot knowing that you’ll always be here.”

“Then why ask the question?” Aigle hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t think I can ever see a life with me living without your company. If I’m born again, I wish to meet you in that life too. The life after that, and the one after that also.” Aigle smiles up at the creature as the last bit of sunset glow graces her face. It was a known fact that she, amongst her sisters, was the most beautiful evening nymph. Her beauty, however, exuded compassion and care. Underneath his scaly exterior, Ladon felt a sense of warmth whenever she was near. He appreciated her existence not in appearance, rather for her persistent efforts to be near and to spread joy to a creature as vile-looking as him. 

Before he could respond, a rustle from a distance perked his attention. A threatening presence filled his senses, and sent his blood boiling within.

“Aigle, hide. Now.” The nymph’s eyes began to widen in fear as their peace was interrupted with much urgency. Ladon roared once more.

“Now. Aigle. Now!” The nymph steps back hesitantly, searching his eyes for reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Instead, she was met with uncertainty, increasing the worry she felt in her heart. Nevertheless, she followed his command, camouflaging herself within the brushes surrounding the tree. The rustles continue to increase in volume, making out to be the footsteps of someone near. Using her power, she travels through the garden, seeking out the foreigner. Her senses heighten at the sight of a deranged Heracles, the hero who was once praised now desperate for redemption.

He drags his feet through the garden muttering, “Golden apples. Where are those damned golden apples!?” Heracles had his hand clutched on the grip of his sword, seemingly ready to withdraw it from its sheath.

Aigle continues to follow him with her heart beating against her chest. Her thoughts flee to Ladon’s well-being, as she thinks of strategies to protect him. With attempts to stall the demigod, she lifts her hands, inducing trees to spring up in a sporadic fashion. However, Heracles doesn’t seem to notice as his focus remains on his target. He trudges on with much frustration, and Aigle continues to throw any kind of distraction to keep him from finding Ladon and the golden apples. However, her capabilities grow faint as her energy depletes. Tears stream down her face as she watches Heracles inevitably locate the tree. She watches as Ladon, who remains fervently coiled around its trunk, extends his body to coax the man away. 

Her last sight of him alive proceeds as Heracles withdraws his sword to strike his body. Within a split second, Ladon who was alive, laid on the ground in two. Fluid oozes from his insides and stains the grass beneath him. His breaths are sparse. 

Meanwhile, Heracles steps forward, kicking the dragon’s bottom half aside, and proceeds to pick the golden fruit from its branches. Satisfied with the amount he has collected, he walks away without any thought of the serpent laying practically dead on the floor.

Aigle lets out a piercing cry as she comes out of hiding. She runs to him and falls to her knees with her face striped with tears, heartbroken. With shaken hands, she delicately strokes the side of his face for the last time.

“Aigle,” He croaks. The nymph who was once radiantly shining, releases a sob. She gazes into his weary eyes for one last time.

“I promise I’ll be looking for you in each one.” At the sound of his last words, Aigle breaks into a wailing mess. She mourns her beloved friend, her beautiful and brave dragon--Ladon, who valiantly carried out his task while bringing her much joy. The moonlight shines upon them as she continues to wallow in tears. Her sounds are so heartbreaking that it catches the attention of the Goddess of Marriage herself.

Arriving within a flash, Hera gasps at the sight of Aigle embracing what was left of Ladon.

“My dear, what happened here?” She lifts up the nymph into her arms, caressing her hair gently.

With sobs filling her voice, she chokes out, “Heracles. Ladon tried to protect the tree. He really did! And yet-” The goddess shushes her cries as memories of him flash through her mind. Her breaths slow down after a moment, and her once audible cries now reduce to silent tears. Hera, with a soothing voice, comforts the girl.

“Aigle, I know you loved him very much. For your love and loyalty I bestow you a gift.” The nymph looks at her with confusion. 

“Look at the sky.” Following her directions, Aigle stretches her neck to the night. Upon doing so, she’s met with a new formation of stars--one that took the shape of her serpentine friend. The dragon, Draco. As she looks up, tears stream down her cheeks.

“He’ll always be here, looking for you. He’ll find his way back to you. I know it.”

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Y/N jolted awake with tears in her eyes. The sounds of birds chirping immediately fill her ears, as the rays of morning light infiltrate her yellow-clad room. She gingerly touched her face, the feeling of longing still burned in her chest. The dream was so vivid and so real that her heart felt heavy within her wake. The last few words Hera murmured rang clearly in her mind. It wasn’t something she could shake off so easily even if she tried. Ladon. Would she ever meet him in this life? She glanced at the clock--there wasn’t much time until class began. Wiping the wet traces off of her face, she got up to fix herself before making her way to her first lesson of the day, Divination.

Chatters filled the classroom when she entered. The space was split with Hufflepuffs nearest to the entrance and Slytherins on the farther side. The girl was shrouded in sadness as she made her way to her seat. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose was slightly runny, and her body felt weak. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Your friend asked. You only shook your head in response, not understanding the reason for your sadness yourself. The sound of the bell prompts the class to begin. You wipe the tiredness from your eyes as Professor Trelawney navigated her way to the front of the room. 

“Welcome to another day of divination, my children! Today we will be learning about something important: dream interpretation!” Her voice resounds at the mentioning of the topic, catching your attention and making your heart race.

“Dreams, my dears, are the most crucial means to look into the future! Each dream that you have contains a meaning--a message--depending on its contents! Let’s get started!” Trelawney glides across the room, peering at various students. A great majority looks at her with exasperated expressions, while others turn away to avoid getting caught. She stops at a familiar blonde.

“Mr. Malfoy, let’s begin with you!” A scowl can be seen plastering his face in distaste. 

“Any dreams recently?” The question wasn’t something that would be usually asked in such a public setting. It was weird to you, certainly enough. However, what was more odd was Draco’s hesitance. He was a striking character most of the time. He always had something snarky to say, most especially when it came to divination, but today he kept silent. You examined his nervousness as he shuffled in his seat. You couldn’t blame him.

“No, professor.” He states simply after what seemed like a solid minute of silence. You kept your eyes on his expression. While his response meant one thing, the bothered look on his face couldn’t go unnoticed. There was something off about his aura, and you could feel it. Trelawny stepped back and nodded slightly. She continued looking for another volunteer to share. As she did so, you kept your eyes set on the Malfoy. You were drawn to him on this day in particular, and you weren’t sure why. His glance met up with yours, paralyzing you for a moment before the professor’s voice resounded once again.

“Y/N, how about you? Any dreams?” The sound of her voice was alluring as your sights shifted to her. She looked deeply into your eyes as though she was trying to search your mind. You stayed still, thinking about the one you had the night prior. If anyone could tell you the purpose behind your dreams, it would most likely be Trelawny. Everyone’s focus was now trained on you. 

“I did have one.” You admit quietly. You were astonished by your actions, having done so mindlessly. Regardless, the professor’s expression lit up at the sound of your words. She gestured for you to continue on.

“It was of a girl and a dragon.” You say with much hesitation. Trelawney’s eyes widened.

“Continue my dear,” she says rushedly, “what happened?” You stayed silent for a bit before cautiously deciding to go on. 

“The dragon protected a tree...and the girl loved the dragon--she was always by his side. Unfortunately, he was killed trying to protect it, leaving her alone and heartbroken.” A rush of emotions filled you once again, mourning the loss of a friend. The woman’s eyes softened a bit, while the class was dead silent, interested in what the professor would have to say. 

Draco, in particular, was mortified. As you sat there in contemplation, a heavy weight seemed to drop in his gut while his heart picked up its pace simultaneously. When the professor asked him to share his dreams, the feeling of vulnerability overcame him when he recalled his own. He had cried silently that night prior--having fallen for the nymph that occupied his subconscious. He recalled the vivid feeling of her touch, her soothing words, and the way the evening sun glowed on her face. He recalled Aigle’s swift-acting power as she tried to stall Heracles. The last thing he remembered from that dream was his death, carrying out his loyalty to the goddess, and making a promise to his beloved friend. What Draco didn’t expect, however, was the retelling of such coming from your lips. It was when he saw the look on your face that his heart sped up once more. 

“They made a promise to meet each other in whatever life came next...then the goddess that oversaw them both casted an image of the dragon in the stars.” The emotions you felt in the dream overcame you as a tear threatened to fall from your eyes. You hurriedly wiped it away and swallowed the feelings before looking up at the professor.

“I don’t know what it could possibly mean, professor. It was very vivid.” The professor looked at you with pity, before turning to her attention briefly to the class.

“Everyone, turn to your partners and discuss your dreams.” With the class’s attention now diverted, Trelawney beckoned you to come sit with her. As you do so, Draco’s line of vision remains on you.

A more secure sense of privacy surrounds you and your teacher. While the room began to fill itself with chatters once again, you directed full attention to her, expectant of what she had to say.

“Typically, dreams are foretellings of the future, child. The appearance of a past life doesn’t usually mean anything unless there’s a specific message involved.” Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“When you spoke about the promise, however, I believe the universe was trying to show you that there is someone waiting for you in this world. Perhaps this person takes a resemblance to the dragon, whether physically or even personality-wise. Nevertheless, he has awoken, and now he’s looking for you.” The words that left Trelawney’s mouth kept you in a state of awe. You sat there with hands folded on your lap, fingers fumbling, and knee bouncing. As you remained in a state of contemplation, the bell chimed, signalling the end of the lesson. As you stood to say goodbye to the professor, she cuts you off.

“My dear, senses tell me that he’s much closer than you think. You best keep your eyes and heart open.” You had nothing to say, so you just nod. Your mind was full of thoughts, leaving you to ponder about the identity of this person all day. 

You weren’t the only one curious. The moment Draco heard what you had to say, his awareness of you increased. His feelings told him to be simple and straightforward with you, but his mind was firm and stubborn. However, his body betrays him as he finds himself pacing in front of the divination class with questions that needed to be answered. You walk out of the room with books in hand, unaware of Draco’s presence. Just as you’re about to turn into the corridor, the boy bumps into you, resulting in you falling over and everything flying out of your arms. 

“What the heck was that?” You ask frustratingly as you brush dirt off your knees. The platinum blonde boy looks at you in shock. You don’t bother looking up. Instead, you proceed to pick up the books that fell on the floor. He doesn’t know what overcame in the moment when he stretched out his hand to you. All he wanted was to feel your touch. You glance up warily at the owner only to be taken aback as well.

“Malfoy?” you ask. His head was turned to the side, eyebrows furrowed, and the entirety of his side profile was exposed to you. You took notice of his pale complexion, the way his lips were slightly parted, and how his jawline sculpted and framed his face. He was beautiful. However, more of your attention was drawn to his locks. ‘Platinum’ you thought. As you did so the image of the dragon’s appearance flashed across your vision. Your eyes widened, but before you could process your thoughts the sound of Draco’s voice filled your ears.

“My arm has been extended for centuries now, Y/L/N, and you’re still on the floor. Don’t you have a class to get to?” You broke out of thought and mindlessly took hold of his hand. As he pulled you up, the boy felt a wave of shivers overflowing his body. The warmth of your skin felt familiar against his own, causing a rage of heart beats to spread across his chest. As he turns his head to face you, you let out an audible gasp.

Alarming you was his striking blue eyes as his gazed pierced through your own. Out of shock, you pull your hand out of his hold and trudged past him without saying a word. You weren’t even aware of where you were going. You simply allowed your legs to take you to your next destination as you cope with the heightening of your senses.

There was no way right? There’s no way that Malfoy could be…You shook your head, trying to take your mind off of the chances as you entered your next class. You made sure to be cautious throughout the day, taking care in avoiding the boy as much as possible. There was no denying the reputation that he had in school--students have been sent to Madam Pomfrey’s a number of times because of him. His rude comments, arrogant pride--they all deterred you away from him. Nevertheless, you felt something blooming in your chest, because the dragon you knew in your dreams was patient and tolerant. You were simply uncertain to say the least.

The boy looked at his palm in awe as you walked away. When he turned around, you were already gone. He clenched his hand into a fist as if the action would retain the warmth he had felt. He recalled the look of shock in your eyes before it was glossed over by denial and  sighed. How he longed to know.

As the week dragged on, you managed to keep your distance from the blonde--luckily, he didn’t approach you ever since. However, your attempts to concentrate in your classes were futile as small fragments of the dream replayed within your mind. Your thoughts were often focused on the image of Ladon that appeared so suddenly when Draco stood in front of you. You found that the words, “platinum” and “blue” ran through your mind constantly--not to mention his piercing gaze. Such imagery finds its way into your thoughts as you sit in the library, quill in hand as you work on your homework assignments. As you continue, you can’t help but wonder if he felt it too.

“I promise I’ll find you in every one.” A familiar voice rings within your mind without warning, inducing your head to pulse. You tried to fight it off for a moment, but the pain wouldn’t subside. Deciding it was time for a break, you set your quill down and made your way to the courtyard outside.

Meanwhile Draco, who spent his afternoons reading, situated himself on top of a tree, enjoying the silence which contrasted to the heavy banter in the Slytherin common room. A soft breeze ran through his platinum locks as the sun began to darken in its golden hue. He took a moment to observe the color of the sky change, prompting a series of flashbacks to flow.

“A gift, for you! I knew it’d look good on you.” There was no face attached to the dialogue, but he recalled the rosy feeling sharply.

“You’re a beautiful creature, you know that, do you?” Draco closed his eyes allowing himself to witness the emergence of his distant past.

“I would just like to sit with you today, if that’s alright.” The voice rang deeply in his mind. At the instant that the request had emerged in his thoughts, a loud crunching of leaves filled his hearing. As soon as he opened his eyes, you miraculously appeared into view, walking towards the tree he was situated in. His heartbeat raced quickly, but he kept silent, carefully observing your actions.

You sat down on its base and leaned your head against the trunk, letting out a sigh. Your head didn’t stop pulsing after you left the library. Despite that, your body relaxed upon the breeze brushing past your skin. You wrapped your arms around your waist and closed your eyes in contentment, basking in the nature that embraced you. The boy looked at you in awe. There you were right beneath him, as if the universe had orchestrated this scenario perfectly. The sight of your gentle expression stirs warmth within him, and the flow of memories seem to match this very moment to that of Aigle’s and Ladon’s. Suddenly, within the synchronization of time and space, Draco is Ladon, and in his eyes you are Aigle once again. 

The energy that had surrounded the pair from the past finds it way back to you, and the familiar feel of beloved peace and comfort induces you to open your eyes. The sun that had been going down, casts its glow on you as you look up. ‘Blue striking eyes and  platinum hair’ Your heart skips as you place your hand over your mouth. The dragon you’ve been mourning over had presented himself to you.

“Do you think I can meet you in another life? Just like this one?” The lines ring in your mind as Draco hops down. You get up and stand in front of him, your gazes meeting and never breaking. 

“I promise I’ll be looking for you in each one.” Your eyes search his and scan his face. Recalling the days when you were Aigle, tears began streaming down your face. You allowed your previous perceptions of Draco to melt within the energy of the reunion. 

You shakily lifted your hands and cupped his face in disbelief. Draco, in turn, closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. Both hearts paced quickly as a result of the awaited meeting. You stroked the boy’s cheek with your thumb, causing his eyes to flutter open. He watched as your fingers delicately brushed the space in between his eyebrows, proceeding to his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose, and finally his lips.

“Aigle?” Your old name passes through his lips low and hesitantly, but it’s enough to make you gasp. 

“It really is you, isn’t it? Ladon?” Draco grabs your wrists.

“It is.” The boy looks into your eyes as tears silently streamed down your face.

“You found me.” 

“I promised you I would.” You embraced him tightly, allowing the sound of his heart beat fill you up--it was the very proof that he was alive. His arms wrap around you, and you can feel his fists bunching up the fabric of your robes as his face nuzzles into your neck. The both of you took this moment to embrace the new reality.

As you step away from each other, Draco caresses your cheek and pressed his lips to your forehead. It wasn’t a form of affection he was used to showing, yet it occurred naturally within your presence. You closed your eyes upon feeling the sensation of his lips. They soon leave you only to ghost over your own. 

In a low whisper, he asks, “May I?” You let out a soft ‘mhm’ in response.

The sensation you felt on your forehead takes over your lips as Draco’s brushes his against your own. The feelings of longing pour out from both parties, and suddenly it didn’t matter that you were a Hufflepuff or if he was Slytherin. There was a lot of catching up to do, a lot of changes to be made, but all of that wasn’t important in the moment. All that mattered was that you found each other, you had one another--the appreciation you had shared never truly left. Instead, you only picked up from where you left off.

“It’s nice meeting you, Draco.” You chuckled softly as you broke the kiss. The boy rolled his eyes before letting out a small chuckle himself.

“It’s nice meeting you again, Y/N.” He presses his lips on yours once more, as you dissolve in his embrace.

Epilogue:

You both find yourselves in the astronomy tower that night. Draco looks at the girl pointing to the sky. His arms wrapped around her from behind as they leaned against the railing of the astronomy tower, gazing up at the stars.

“When Ladon left, Hera found Aigle in tears and casted his image to the skies in his remembrance.” She points to the blonde.

“That image, that constellation, is you Draco.” He tightens his grip on you.

“And I’ll never leave again.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Any feedback is very much appreciated!