#There's next to nothing out on him; and that alone makes me incredibly anxious.

[ofhope]

“I, for one, believe there to be nothing more romantic than a leisurely-paced duel.

Perhaps not to the death, however. Such commitments could wait until the matter of marriage is on the table, yes?”

#ic‚ argenti. #There's next to nothing out on him; and that alone makes me incredibly anxious. #But alas: I adore him already.

[wlwprker]

your little things- tom!peter parker x reader

a/n: I have a lot of old stuff that was posted on my old Tumblr, and this was one of them :)

warnings: brief mentions of anxiety, not proofread a lot so I apologize for grammar or spelling mistakes! italics indicate a flashback.

w/c: 1,847

-Peter Parker-

Peter was aware that you didn't think he noticed or paid attention to the little things that you do but he does, he always pays attention to you.

He notices the way that you love to sit by the window reading a book when it rains because the sound of the rain hitting the window makes you feel calm. He admires how you can get so caught up in your books and how your face lights up with different emotions depending on what was happening in the books you always got lost in.

Your little things that make you so wonderful, he notices them all and he loves them all because they're what makes you so beautiful and he loves everything about you.

Peter loves to look at you and he adores all of your little things, especially the ones that you're insecure about but he doesn't know why because everything you do is beautiful to him.

He picks up on things that you didn't even know he knew about or took note of. He knows when you're anxious because of the way you always bounce your legs repeatedly and how you nervously play with the rings on your fingers. He notices it all. Peter notices that when you're incredibly anxious, you draw patterns on yourself to attempt to calm yourself down, but it doesn't always work, which makes you more anxious.

When he senses that you're having one of your really rougher days, he is there to help you because Peter loves and supports you... Always.

Today you were having a hard day, nothing seemed to be making you feel better. Peter knew instantly because when he took peaks at you every so often, he saw the way that you couldn't stop bouncing your legs and the fact that your hair had been messed up from the number of times that you pulled at it in frustration. He takes note of a simple fact: you cannot sit still. Peter worries for your poor lips that you've bitten down on many times throughout the night.

Peter wasn't even doing anything productive if he's being honest, he was just writing out a study guide for a test that wasn't for another 3 weeks. He put his pencil down and walked over to you and sat down on his bed next to you, you were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't even know he left his desk. He softly touched your thigh to remind you of his presence because he knew that you were a million miles away.

"Oh! I'm sorry Peter, did I interrupt your work?" Peter's heart stung with pain as he heard the hurt in your voice because you were genuinely worried that you distracted Peter from his work. You turned your head slowly to look at him and his heart swelled because every time that you look at him, it's as if he's looking at you for the first time. Peter took your shaky hands in his and intertwined your fingers with his and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"I don't care about my work; I care about you. What's got you so anxious today, sweetie?" Peter asked while he rubbed comforting circles on the back of your hand, your hands had stopped shaking. He watched as you sighed deeply and laid your head down in his lap.

"There's just so much happening and it's happening so fast, it's nothing particular, it's just well...everything. I don't know but it's breaking me down, Pete." He visibly frowns when he could hear the genuine suffering in your voice, and he knows how much it sucks to be anxious. He took the hair-tie that was practically falling out anyways and let your hair fall down onto his lap.

"Baby, I'm so sorry that you're dealing with this, but you don't have to deal with this alone." Peter played with your hair, and he could physically feel that your rapid heartbeat was returning back to its normal pace, he knows how the simplest gestures can ease your anxiety. Peter used his free hand to draw patterns on your arms because he knows how you try to do that when you want to relax.

Peter easily sensed that you are starting to finally relax, and he can feel the way your entire body is visibly softening just by the touches from your favorite person, Peter Parker.

Peter always knows how to make you feel safe, he's made mental notes of things he does that makes you feel safe, loved and at peace.

You love random displays of affection, which is completely fine with Peter because he loves to be affectionate with you. You love when he is affectionate with you because it reminds you of how lucky you are to have such a lovely person in your life.

You'd never admit it to him but he knows how much you love the pet names and compliments he gives you so he will compliment you any and every chance that he can.

Peter knows how you're not very open to talking about your feelings, but he always feels a sense of pride and love when he realizes that despite you not being open to share your feelings, he's made you feel safe and comfortable enough to share those parts of yourself with him.

Peter always loved to give you small kisses here and there just to let you know he appreciates you, but he had no idea how much those meant to you. He smiles to himself as he remembers the day that you told him how much you like his small kisses and ever since that day, he gives you random kisses throughout the day...every.single.day.

Peter was coming home from his nightly patrolling duties and he climbed through the window that led into your room, you always left the window open for him, he'd always have a place here. Peter watched in adoration as he caught the sight of you lying in your bed, with glasses perched on top of your head and a book lying face down on your stomach as you slept peacefully. He quietly removed your glasses from the top of your head and marked your place in your book (he knew how mad you'd be if he didn't) and placed them both carefully on the bedside table. He removed his suit, took a shower and changed into the spare clothes he left at your place and calmly climbed into the bed next to you.

You were a very light sleeper so no matter how hard he tried to be quiet, you were very aware of his presence. "Peter? Is that you?" He almost laughed at the sound of your sleepy voice. He moved a piece of hair away from your face and smiled to himself at the sight of your half-closed eyes and eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

God, you are absolutely gorgeous.

"Shh, love, it's okay. Go back to sleep." Peter whispered as he watched you drift back to sleep and he pulled you closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his body and he held you close. Peter kissed your forehead and whispered goodnight into your ear and you're a light sleeper so you stirred in your sleep.

"Mmm. I like when you do that, Pete". You mumbled in your sleep-like haze.

If it was anybody else, they would not even knew that you said anything but Peter being who he was and hanging onto every word you said, he heard you. Peter knew you were very sleepy and had very little energy to fight him back which was the perfect chance for Peter to use this to his advantage.

"Do what, pretty girl?" Peter watched as you hid your face in his chest and he laughed, he knew what he was doing, it was funny though because you are just too cute to not mess with. "Don't hide from me!" You begrudgingly lifted your face from his chest and snuggled closer to him.

"I like when you give me random kisses like that, it makes me feel loved and really happy." You sighed happily and began drifting off into the world of dreams.

"Oh how I love you, Y/n." Peter confessed for the first time. The corners of your lips twitched upwards as you started to feel sleep overtake you for the millionth time that night.

"I love you too, Peter." Peter placed a gentle kiss to your hairline, and he fell asleep.

You love kissing Peter; you really do but Peter discovered that you also love other kinds of things that he does to show you how much he adores you. To other people, it may seem small but to you, it was everything which meant that Peter continued to do them. You love when Peter locks his pinky finger with yours and places a soft kiss to your pinky, it's such a mundane gesture but it reminds you of how safe you feel with Peter, and he does it with so much love and devotion that you can't help but fall even harder for the brown eyed boy.

Peter can go on and on about all the things he loves about you. Whenever someone asks him if he has a favorite little thing that you do, his answer is always the same.

His favorite little thing that you do is loving him.

Peter never really had a way with words, when he really cared for someone, he would get starstruck and the words would escape him. He always felt bad about it because he has so much love to give and he wants to share it, but the words never left his lips, he would stutter because his emotions clouded his senses, and the words would dissolve into thin air. You changed that for him. When people would ask him what being loved by you is like, the words poured out of him easily as if it was as easy as breathing, he didn't have to think too hard.

Your love is so warm and comforting and being loved by you is like falling asleep next to a fireplace, on a freezing winter day while drinking a cup of hot chocolate. The feeling of your love is so special, he could talk forever about it but he knows that there aren't enough words in the entire universe to fully express how much you mean to him.

You would so call him super cheesy and a romantic, but he means it. He only became all mushy and lovey dovey because of you.

It's the feeling of his knees going weak as he locks eyes with you from across the room. It's the feeling of safety when he holds you close to him in bed at night.

That is what it's like to be loved by you.

The little things you do remind him of what being loved feels like and maybe one day, there will be a ring on your finger, a forever one.

#tom!peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #wlwprker🥀💌 #peter parker #tom!peter parker x reader #spiderman #mcu spiderman

[kgficz]

Safe With Me- Part 5

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: You’ve been sent back in time, landing in 1919 in Birmingham. You’re busy trying to survive when Thomas Shelby approaches you in a bar.

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

“Suck it in, love” Polly said, tightening the corset behind you. You thought your lungs were going to come out of your chest from how tight this was.

“Is this really necessary?” You said, wishing you could wear anything else.

She ignored your question and finished tying up the corset. She helped you get into the dress and began fixing up your hair. The more she was here helping you get ready, the more nervous you felt. Why on earth did you need to look this done up? Where the hell were you going? You felt yourself gulp and wished now that you didn’t have to go.

“Perfect.” She stated, stepping back and taking in the work she had done.

You had to admit, you looked great. She had definitely gone overboard on this, but you’d never felt as pretty as you do right now.

She began grabbing her things and getting ready to go.

“You’re not coming?” You asked, kind of hoping she would have joined you.

She let out a small chuckles “Not today, love.” She answered with a small smirk before heading out the door. She gave a quick wave before closing it, leaving you alone.

All you could do is sit and wait, your eyes locking on the ticking clock hanging on the wall in front of you.

You looked down at the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table and decided a drink was in order to get yourself through this. You poured a glass and brought it up to your lips; finishing the drink in one gulp.

Your shoulders relaxed almost immediately. There really was nothing like some liquid courage.

The knock at the door caused you to jolt before you snapped your head towards the door. You placed the glass down and dusted yourself off before walking over. You took in a deep breath as you opened the door, quickly locking eyes with Thomas.

As you let out your breath, your shoulders fell. He looked you up and down as he brought his chest up to his chest.

“You are…” he said, sucking in a breath. “Beautiful” he finished before stepping towards you.

His hands rose to your face, cupping your cheeks softly before he leaned in; his lips pressing gentle against yours. You were almost startled, but had time to return the kiss before he pulled back.

He reached out to grab your hand before he guided you into the car. This time there was a driver who would escort the two of you. You sat next to Thomas in the back of the vehicle and stared out the side, twiddling your fingers and you grew more nervous.

He glanced over a few times, watching you as you stared out the side. He could sense how nervous you were.

“You alright, love?” He asked genuinely.

You snapped towards him, jointed from your thoughts. “Oh.. yes… im fine” you answered quickly, trying to hide your nerves better than before.

He gave you a comforting smile, clearly not believing you but not wanting to make you more anxious.

It wasn’t much longer before you arrived, looking up at a big and beautiful building. There was clearly some event going on from all the cars gathered outside. People were strolling in, looking dressed up.

Thomas stepped out of the car before walking over to your side. He held his hand out for you to hold as you stepped out. You realised how tightly you were squeezing his hands from your nerves before you let go, biting your lip and looking down.

The two of you walked into the building; your eyes gazed up, taking it the huge hall. You had to admit, this place was incredible.

Thomas introduced you to several people before you were introduced to someone named Billy Kimber.

“Well, who do we have here?” He asked, looking you up and down. You felt nervous as soon as he spoke; nothing about him made you comfortable.

“This is Y/N..” Thomas answered firmly, making eye contact with Billy.

“I’ll be havin’ a dance with you later, love. You can be sure of that” he said, giving you a wink and walking passed Tommy; his shoulder slightly pushing him as he strolled away.

Your stomach felt sick just by the presence of him. You’d heard of him. You knew his reputation, and it definitely wasn’t good.

“He won’t be getting near you, love” Tommy said as he looked over at you, causing you to feel a sense of ease.

The two of you walked into the main ballroom, looking over a sea of people dancing in the middle.

“Y/N.. may I have this dance?” Tommy asked, giving you a small smirk as he held out his hand.

You felt yourself blush before you placed your hand in his, smiling back at him with a nod before he walked you over to the dance floor.

His hand wrapped around your waist before pulling you closer to him. His eyes stayed on yours as you moved together.

You noticed how much your heart raced every time he looked at you. His bold blue eyes making you feel weak in the knees. The more you looked at him, the more you thought you might stay in this time… oh god what were you thinking.

You stared at his lips, wishing they were pressed against yours. Maybe you could tell him.. maybe he would understand.

Who were you kidding. No one would understand, no one would believe you.

You let out a sigh as you looked up at him.

“Need a drink already, love?” He suggested with a grin, watching you as your mind was racing.

You were pulled from your thoughts, smiling up at him as he spoke. “Well, it couldn’t hurt” you replied with a chuckle, giving his hand a small squeeze.

As the song came to an end, he guided you to the bar in the corner. He ordered a glass of wine for you and had the usual whiskey for himself.

You had to push down the urge to skull your drink to calm your nerves. Tommy watched you closely as you took a sip and looked around the room.

Your eyes locked with Billy Kimbers’. He was standing across the room, his face stern as he looked over at you. Your chest tightened before you looked away, making a mental note to stay by Tommy’s side.

“I have some business I need to attend to” he said. “Would you mind waiting here for me?” He asked, finishing off his whiskey.

You gulped, feeling a rush of anxiety in your chest. “Sure.” You said quickly, giving him a shy smile.

He gave you a nod before turning away, weaving through the crowd and out of your site. You tapped your glass, keeping your head down and you tried not to draw any attention to yourself.

“Seems rude for Tommy to leave ya standing here all by yourself?” A voice said from behind you. You knew it was Mr Kimber before you even turned around.

You let out a nervous laugh in response, hoping he would leave you alone.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, holding his hand out.

You sucked in a breath and looked around, hoping to find Tommy. “Uh, I’m not very good at dancing” you answered, trying to find an excuse.

“I’ll teach ya” he said before grabbing your hand rather tightly and pulling you into the dance floor.

He pulled you close to himself, forcing you to follow his rhythm as he looked over your face. You tried avoiding eye contact as much as possible, praying this song was a quick one.

“Ain’t you the one workin at the Garrison?” He asked, his face only inches away from yours.

“That’s me” you answered softly before taking in a deep breath.

He hummed, nodding slowly at your response. “I didn’t realise they hired women with no papers” he said, causing your eyes to snap up at his.

“Ya know it’s a serious offence to live in a country ya don’t belong” he stated as a smirk grew across his cheeks.

Your heart sank in your chest, feeling a rise of anxiety fill your body. How long had he been keeping an eye on you?

“You’ve made all the wrong friends around here, love” he continued, looking into your eyes as you held your breath. “I could be a better friend to you” he said, sliding his hand lower down your back.

You immediately pulled away, pushing him slightly as you freed yourself from his grasp. You breathing picked up as you stood across from him.

“The fuck do you think your doin?” He said, stepping towards you and grabbing a hold of your wrist.

“Let go of me” you said firmly, trying to pull your hand away.

He leaned towards your ear “You don’t wanna make an enemy of me, bitch” he threatened.

Your mind raced before he let go of your wrist, pushing you back. You felt yourself stumble a little before regaining your balance. He gave you a menacing grin before turning and walking away.

You quickly pushed through the crowd, heading out to the main hall. You had to get out of here. How could you have managed to make an enemy already? You paced through the hall and out the entrance of the building. You looked up to the sky for a moment. Reality was settling in. You couldn’t stay here any longer.

“Y/N!” Thomas yelled, jogging up towards you. “What are you doing out here, you’ll freeze” he joked as he reached out to grab your arm.

As he turned you towards him, his face dropped; taking in your expression. “What happened?” He asked, beginning to feel worried.

You let out a sigh, trying to hold yourself together. “..nothing” you said quietly. “I need to get out of here. I’m sorry” you added, feeling your eyes begin to tear up.

He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning your face. “Alright, alright” He answered, his concern clearly showing.

You were looking around, taking in your surroundings. Your body suddenly felt weak, holding up this facade in this time. You were exhausted.

“I’ll take ya home, love” he said, bringing his hand up to your cheek. A tear slipped from your eye, rolling down your cheek before Thomas quickly wiped it away.

He would take you home if that’s what you wanted. But he needed answers. What were you supposed to tell him?

Tags:

@avalyaaa @globetrotter28 @buba424 @wildernessflora @naty-1001

#thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby fic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 29 - Erinnerungen]

• Erinnerungen (German, memories)

Warnings: Romance, Fluff, the softest Angst, I cannot write warnings without breaking into tears, just read it, I am a broken woman, this is the most romantic fucking shit I have ever written, it’s so cheesy I fucking love it, also nightmares in the beginning

Wordcount: 9.1k

a/n: *sits in corner and cries loudly*

You are showering, filling the drain with your tears just as much as you fill it with the blood soaked water. It doesn’t want to get off. It’s not leaving your skin. It is part of you.

“Get off of me!” you beg it, rubbing at your skin until it hurts.

It doesn’t get off. You are covered in blood and it doesn’t wash off.

“It’s your fault.”

You turn upon hearing the voice.

Suzy is here. Finally she isn’t just a shadow anymore. She is standing right outside the shower. Her eyes are red from the blood seeping out of her mouth. On her chest a gushing wound is looking at you.

“Go away.”

“Go away?” her voice is distorted through the constant stream of blood dripping from her mouth, “why? To make it easier for you? To help you pretend that you didn’t end another person’s life?”

She steps closer and spits her blood all over the shower door. She begins ripping at it, trying to open it.

“You murderer. You killed another person.”

“Please go away, please leave me alone.”

“You killed me! You killed me! You killed me!”

“I'm sorry! Please believe me! I'm so sorry!”

“You murderer! You killed me!”

“Please go away! Please I’m begging you!”

“You murderer!” she screeches.

“No!”

You sit up, push at nothing. Your hands fall on your lap. Tears are streaming down your face.

“What?” you press out, staring into the darkness.

You had a nightmare. This wasn’t real.

You look at your hands. Moonlight illuminates them. They are still clean, not covered in blood.

“Oh god”, you press out and whimper into said hand, “holy fuck.”

It felt so real. As if she was right there with you, dying all over again whilst dragging you with her.

You turn to the person next to you in instinct. Taehyung is sleeping deeply, hugging a pillow to his chest.

You could wake him, allow him to hold you and soothe you back to sleep and yet.

Yet.

You turn away from him and stumble out of bed.

You can’t explain it, you truly can’t explain why you left the room to search for another instead. It was almost like instinct. You couldn’t control it.

You can’t explain it even when you reached your destination. You just know that you opened his door and stumbled inside with your heart aching for his comfort. You need to feel his arms around you, smell his scent, listen to his soothing whispers. This is all you need tonight.

“Yoongi?” you call for him.

But he isn’t in his room, only his stuff is. You seek him by grabbing one of his shirts and then hiding yourself in his bed. You squeeze your teary eyes shut and bury your face in his shirt. 

You miss him. 

Perhaps it is such a peculiar feeling to feel when he is clearly still out with Fredrick, but you do.

You miss him so incredibly much right now. 

You need him.

Just him.

You need your safety.

Your Yoongi.

You lose consciousness in the safety of his scent and the knowledge that this was his space.

There must have been some time between when you came to his room and when the door opened to reveal him. You didn’t take in that time as you were sleeping, holding his shirt with all your strength. 

Yoongi stops and stares, feeling frozen to the spot. He hadn’t expected you here and now he feels anxious. 

He takes a weary step closer. 

You’re asleep.

Yoongi feels relief wash over himself. 

He shrugs off his leather jacket and boots. Then he turns, taking off his dirtied shirt and dropping it on the desk. He locks the bathroom and showers for a long time. 

He even washes his hair, drying it with the terrible blow dryer. He wasn’t planning on washing his hair tonight, but that was before he found you in his bed. He wants to smell nice for you. And he wants to stall time. He is scared to go outside again, for Yoongi has been doubting everything in his life for way too long. Himself, your feelings, your relationship, himself again. He has been doubting and doubting and doubting.

Doubt is a painful emotion. Doubt aches as if someone was gnawing on his heart. 

He may be the Powerful Creator to most people, but to you he is Yoongi. The title feels oh so big. So important. Powerful Creator comes easy to him, he justh has to act the way people expect him to act. But Yoongi. Who is Yoongi? It’s his truth. 

He has to be open and vulnerable. Then he is Yoongi. When he has his bleeding heart on the table and his soul bared.

And this is painfully scary to think about. It is so scary that he has been doubting just how much he wants to open himself. And then he doubted his own doubts and began from the beginning. Hating himself, loving the thought of you, hating his fears, doubting his decisions and beginning anew.

And that is why he is anxious to face you, fearing what you might ask him. He fears that you ask him why he pulled away, why he was so distant to you lately, why he stopped loving you oh so deeply. He fears those questions because he doesn’t want to answer them, for he doubted every answer he came up with until he stopped thinking up new ones.

But he has to. At some point his excessive evening routine just felt like childish ridiculousness. 

Yoongi leaves the bathroom door open, entering the bedroom in nothing but a towel. It’s you after all, you can see him that way. 

He gets some briefs and a clean shirt and abandons the towel by the desk. Then he turns.

You are sitting up in his bed, staring at him with your eyes puffy from sleep.

“I had a nightmare. Can I sleep here?”

Yoongi feels relieved. Not because you had a nightmare, but because your question wasn’t filled with accusations.

“Of course”, he says.

“Can you hold me?” you open your arms. 

Yoongi feels himself get drawn closer automatically. He claims his rightful spot beside you, opening his arms for you. You fall into his embrace, clutching him oh so tightly. You inhale and Yoongi feels how you shiver as you exhale. 

“You smell so much better than your shirt”, you whisper.

“I took a shower.”

“It’s not the shower, it’s you”, you twist his shirt.

Yoongi closes his eyes, resting his cheek on your shoulder. It’s him. 

It happens naturally that you and him lie down, holding each other oh so tightly. 

“I missed you so much, Yoongi.”

“You did?”

You nod your head. 

“I feel as if we barely have nights where we fall asleep together anymore.”

Yoongi stays silent, feeling sick in guilt. He knows that it was his fault. He is pulling back. He noticed it happening. 

“I feel like it’s my fault”, you say. 

“What?” Yoongi gasps, feeling frozen in shock. Why would you blame yourself? Why you? You did nothing wrong. 

“I’ve been acting so weird ever since Suzy. I think I avoided you a little.” 

Yoongi noticed that you did, but blamed it on himself. It must be him, he thought, it must be his fault like it always was. You finally must have realised just how fucked up he and his world was and finally had enough of it. And him. Like always, you finally had enough of him.

“I didn’t even notice it", he lies. 

“Good, that’s good. Because it wasn’t your fault I just….doesn’t matter, I don’t want to talk about it tonight.”

“Why not?”

“It makes me want to cry.”

“I see.”

“I dreamed of her tonight.”

Yoongi understands. 

“I’m sorry”, he whispers. 

“So I came here.”

“Why?”

“Because you told me that I should come to you when I’m having a nightmare.” 

“I see. What about Taehyung?”

You lift your head from his chest. 

“You are different”, you say, “you keep me safe.”

“And Taehyung doesn’t?”

“He does, just not like you do”, you say and slip off your magic ring. You place it on the pillow beside you. 

Yoongi eyes it. You just shed off your protection. This small fragile ring is your shield against losing your independence. And you put it away. In his presence you decided to put it away.

He exhales shakily and looks back at you. 

“Yoongi, can you make me dream of home?”

“You want me to make you dream of home?” 

You nod your head and rest it on his chest afterwards. 

“Please, make it about the greenhouse.”

Yoongi places his hand on your head, caressing it softly. 

“Close your eyes.”

“They are.”

“Good. Relax.”

Then you tingle. Your entire body is tingling unbearably until suddenly it stops. 

You feel dizzy for just a second, peeling your eyes open slowly. 

You are in the library. There is no colour around you. Just shades of grey.

“Yoongi?” 

“Hey”, he says. He is wearing a jumper, white and incredibly fluffy. 

When you take a look down at your body, you realise that you are also bundled in comfortable winter clothes. 

“I don’t understand. What kind of dream is that? Why is everything in black and white?”

“It’s my memories.”

“Your memories?”

Yoongi extends his arms until you finally intertwine your fingers with his’. 

“Follow me”, he says, leading you past a heap of books. 

“Wait”, you oggle the small table on which a cup of tea had cooled down already, "is this the day when you?”

“Yes”, he leads you down the stairs and through the library. 

“Why would you pick out that day?”

“To do it differently.”

“I see.”

You enter the entrance hall and instead of taking the right path to the keys room, Yoongi leads you down the left path. 

You eye the room. It was hidden behind a wall of dark, ominous looking fog. You know what that meant. This would be where his actual memory starts. 

The door to Jimin’s wing opens easily. 

“The greenhouse”, you gasp in realisation of where he is taking you, drawing closer to Yoongi, “I miss it so much. Can you really show it to me?”

“Yes, you can see it again.”

“But why is everything so detailed? The last time I was in your memory everything was so blurry.”

“Because I remember it well. The other thing happened hundreds of years ago, I forgot the details.”

“It makes sense”, you say, looking around the perfect replica of Jimin’s wing, “this is remarkable. Gosh, I want to be able to do that.”

“It can be dangerous, you know?”

“Why?”

“Wanting to live in nothing but your memories is possible but you lose yourself in the real world when you stay too long.” 

“I see…it makes sense. After all your body is still out there.”

“Mhm.”

“Do those vampires rot away without noticing?”

“Yes, most of the time.”

“I see”, you sigh, “that’s sad.”

“Yes.”

“But maybe also beautiful?” 

Yoongi sneaks a glance your way. 

“Maybe they found their peace in their memories and now they can relive their favourite moments eternally. It must be nice to find refuge from eternity that way.”

“Maybe”, he says and squeezes your hand, “I’d rather live.”

The golden doors to the greenhouse are grey in his memory, opening slowly and with a squeak. 

“I fixed that squeak in the real world. It’s so weird hearing it again.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I can show you once we’re home again.”

“Yes, show me”, Yoongi says. 

You and him stop. Your fingers tighten around his hand. You are finally in the greenhouse.

“Wow”, you gasp, feeling your eyes fill with tears, “this is my greenhouse”, you whisper, slipping out of his fingers for excitement has taken over and you have to run down the tunnel of wisteria sinensis whilst laughing happily. 

Yoongi follows you with a smile, watching you with sparkling eyes. 

“Look at the moonflower! Oh, look at the raspberries! Oh god, my tree! Yoongi, the roses were still so small back then!” your voice is everywhere at the same time as you run around your greenhouse and look at everything. 

Yoongi decides to wait by the little table for now, knowing very well that you won’t have eyes for anything else except your plants. He waits gladly, finding it rather healing to do. 

“Woooah”, he hears you from somewhere, “the bleeding hearts”, you squeak out and Yoongi has to smile, “tiny, little babies. So small. Oh my god, they were literal dwarves back then!”

He can hear steps, they come from his right, which means that you just finished your lap around the entire greenhouse. 

He watches you run to him. There was a little flower in your fingers and a big smile on your face.

“Yoongi!” you exclaim, “everything’s still so small and tiny!”

You come to a stop in a stumble, touching his chest as you beam at him. He catches you, holding you safely by your elbows.

“Yoongi”, you are bouncing on the spot, “this is my greenhouse. We’re in my greenhouse.”

“I know. Do you like it?”

“I love it! I love it so much”, you fall around his neck, “you are the most amazing person ever. Thank you so much.”

Yoongi realises then that your heart was racing unbearably. And while he can’t smell how happy you were, he knows that you were. And it makes him happy too because you are hugging him and you are smiling and that is all that matters.

You step back and lift your hand. 

“Stay still.”

Yoongi does so rather stiffly, watching you with his breath held.

You put the little flower in his hair. 

“Wow, so pretty”, you giggle and clap excitedly, “Yoongi my love, you look so pretty!”

He has to lower his eyes, shimmying from one foot to the other. 

“You’re like my flower prince now”, you say and gasp so loudly that Yoongi thinks something might have happened. 

He looks at you with worry, realising that you are still smiling.

“Do you want to make flower crowns for each other?” you ask with sparkling eyes. 

“Of course”, Yoongi agrees instantly because he loves the idea. It’s silly, but he is silly when he is with you, so it’s only fitting that he does silly things with you. 

And so you and him spend your many minutes gathering the most beautiful flowers in the greenhouse. You tell him little facts about them and Yoongi listens intently. At some point he even managed to say a fact before you could, glowing in pride because it was something you didn’t know and you called him oh so knowledgeable. He felt happy that he read all those plant books in secrecy at that moment. 

You sit by the moonflower as you make your crowns, listening to the calm fountain and facing each other with just too little distance between you and him. 

Your flower crown looks magnificent while his’ looks just way too messy for his taste.

“I don’t know”, he says and drops his cornflower, “I think I messed up.” 

“No, it’s good. You have to make sure that the stem is wrapped around the others and it should hold”, you tell him.

“Like this?” Yoongi asks and messes up. The flower drops with a hanging head. Yoongi sags his shoulders, “I can’t do this. My fingers are too big.”

“That’s not true”, you giggle, “you’re just pressuring yourself. Wait, let me show you.” 

You place your hands over his and Yoongi feels lost instantly, gazing at you with jittery hands.

“Go like this while you hold it with that hand”, you explain, guiding his movements, “now put it under there and it should hold. There, like this.”

You lift your head, locking eyes with him. 

“Did you just stare at me?”

He nods his head wordlessly, parting his lips. His eyes are sparkling so much. 

“You did”, you whisper and smile shyly. Your eyes flit down, “I finished your crown. Do you want to try it on?”

“Yes.”

You lift it. Yoongi tilts his head closer to you, making it easier for you to put it on. He closes his eyes. He has no idea why he did, but it happened naturally.

“There we go, it’s on.”

Yoongi lifts his head, fluttering his lashes at you.

“Wow”, you gasp, “Yoongi wow. Now you’re my actual flower prince! It fits you so well!” you exclaim and giggle, cupping his cheeks. 

You squish them softly. 

“You are so handsome. Wow.”

Yoongi feels his cheeks literally go up in flames.

“It just sucks that I can’t see you in colour”, you say and pout. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I love this so much.”

You touch his hands, caressing his knuckles softly.

“Can I see your flower crown too?”

“It’s not good”, he says, lifting it shyly. 

“No, it’s so pretty. Oh I love how you made it look fluffy.”

He lowers his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn up. 

“Can I wear it please?”

“Yes, c-close your eyes”, he stutters because he feels so much right now. 

You do so, smiling and tilting your head to make it easier for him. 

“Keep your eyes closed until I tell you.”

“Okay, okay. What are you doing?”

“Something”, he says and somehow he sounds a little strained. 

Silence for just a moment. Then Yoongi lets out a deep breath. 

“Open your eyes.”

You peel them open, feeling them tear up instantly. 

“Colour.”

Greens, dozens and dozens of them, colour from red to pink to blue and yellow. All of it. All the colour has returned. 

“Yoongi, what did you do?” 

“Nothing much, I just altered it.” 

“That’s possible?”

“When I’m concentrating hard enough", he says and nods his head. 

“Yoongi…” you whisper, intertwining your fingers with his’.

Yoongi lowers his head, “it’s nothing”, he whispers while in reality he hopes that you can see that he is currently giving you his entire world.

You realise then that his sweater, which you believed to be white is actually a bright yellow. The flowers in his crown are a scatter of every colour and while it should have looked messy, it didn’t.

“Yoongi, oh god”, you tear up again, “look at you. You look so, so pretty in colour.”

“You too”, he says and smiles, “the crown looks pretty on you.”

“You think so?”

He nods his head, lowering his gaze shyly. 

“Like my flower princess”, he whispers, burning up in embarrassment afterwards. 

You giggle, swinging his hands from side to side. 

“You’re so cute”, you say, “we’re royalty then and the greenhouse is our palace.”

He nods his head in understanding and feels his heart flutter.

This time around he truly felt it flutter. Here in this memory where his reality can be altered, his heart flutters. And Yoongi feels alive. Right this moment as you squeeze his hands and gaze at him with sparkling eyes, he feels alive.

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, sitting yourself down on his lap to hug him tightly, “thank you. Thank you so much.”

Yoongi rests his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist.

“It’s nothing.”

“No”, you shake your head, “it’s everything. I miss home so much. I want to do things like this with you and not wander from one city to the other.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not how you imagined all of this to go.”

“Why are you apologising? It’s not your fault.”

Yoongi lifts his head.

“I don’t know”, he breathes.

You caress his chin then his cheek, giving him a fond smile.

“You’re so handsome, Yoongi.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

He lowers his eyes and feels his heart flutter again. Oh, it’s fluttering so much.

“Let’s go somewhere else”, he says, gazing up at you.

“Where to?”

“I’ll show you”, he says, standing up with you. He sets you down and holds your hand, “follow me.”

You and him hurry down the tunnel of wisteria sinensis until you reach the golden door. Yoongi opens it for you and steps through. You follow.

Snow. The night. Cold on your skin.

“Huh?” you gasp, looking around.

This isn’t Jimin’s wing, but the parking space in front of the gas station. You turn to Yoongi, who is wrapped in the clothes he wore that night you and he bought snacks together. You look down your own body, realising that you are wearing your clothes of that night as well.

“This is another memory, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

You look at the gas station again. There are people inside. They are frozen on their spot, looking as if someone pressed the pause button on them. The entrance of the gas station was covered behind a thick wall of dark fog. So that is where you would have to step to start the actual memory. Once you would step through that fog, the people would start moving and your memories would play themselves out like a movie.

But not right now. Right now you are mere visitors in Yoongi’s impressive collection of little movie sets.

“Why are we here?”

“Because I like this memory.”

You look at Yoongi.

“You do?”

He nods his head.

“I like…I like how you…uhm, how you smile when it snows”, he confesses shyly, scratching the side of his neck as he speaks.

“You do?”

He nods his head. Snow begins falling then. You don’t know if this is the natural occurrence of that movie set or if Yoongi is responsible for it, but it doesn’t matter. It still makes you smile that one smile he is talking about.

“That one”, he whispers, making it grow.

“Oh, Yoongi”, you say, cupping his cold cheeks, “you are so incredibly sweet. And awesome”, you say, turning around to look at the scenery, “everything is so detailed and the cold feels so real. It’s so remarkable”, you tell him, looking at him, “how big is this world?" 

“As big as I can remember it to be.”

“That’s poetic. It’s as big as you remember it to be”, you lift your head, blinking at the snow, “imagine just how big memories must be for children then”, you say and smile, stretching your hands out to catch some snowflakes. 

You catch one and gasp. It glimmers on your fingertip before it melts. So you reach for them again. 

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks. 

“Catching snowflakes.”

He finds it peculiar that you do, but not in a judgemental way. Almost in a way of honest admiration. Catching snowflakes sounds like such a childish activity to him, but you don’t seem to see it that way. It was something you wanted to do in this moment because it made you happy. He admires that about you. That you do whatever makes you happy even if there was a possibility that people could perceive it as childish. He wants to be like that too, but it is so hard for him most of the times.

He closes the distance between you and him, finding his place right next to you. He extends his arm and opens his palm. Maybe he just has to try it.

You sneak a glance at him. He feels it and turns his head. As if embarrassed, he lowers his arm again, hiding it behind his back. 

“Did you ever catch snowflakes before?” you ask him.

Yoongi shakes his head, “it’s a waste of time.”

“I don’t think so”, you say and lift your arm again. 

You look so happy that Yoongi wants to try again just so he could be just as happy. He stretches his arm as far as possible, staring into the endless darkness while the smallest of cold speckles tickle his palm. They hit his face as well and sometimes his eyes. Yoongi blinks each time that happens.

“I would have done this with you”, you tell him, “if you never left back then, I would have dragged you outside one day and then caught snowflakes with you.”

Yoongi sneaks a glance at you.

“And you think I’d have come with you?”

“I’d have gotten you out of your wing somehow.” 

“Probably”, he says and lowers his hand to inspect it. The tiniest puddles of melted snow have formed on his palm. Yoongi closes his fingers, wiping their traces that way. 

“I also would have loved to go ice skating with you.”

“Good thing I left then.”

“Yoongi, come on”, you say and click your tongue, “it would have been fun.” 

“I guess. It would have been cold too.”

“Obviously, the winter tends to be cold”, you tease and chuckle. 

“I know. You should stay inside and keep warm.” 

“Right and when it’s summer and warm you stay inside because?”

“It’s far cooler inside and the sun isn’t blinding.”

“Ah, of course. Obviously”, you say, stifling a laugh, “god Yoongi, you’re such a grumps.”

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably. He did it again. He was being boring. His stomach twists in fear. He doesn’t want to be boring. He has to fix it. 

He squats down and gathers some snow into a little ball.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, watching him with curious eyes. 

Yoongi gets to his feet, stares at you and aims. The snowball just kind of plops against your arm before peeling off and falling down. 

“Did you just throw snow at me?” you ask. 

Yoongi widens his eyes and nods his head hesitantly. His heart is hammering in his chest. Did he mess up? Is this not how having fun works? Why are you staring? 

“This was so random”, you say and laugh. 

He panics. So you didn’t like it. Oh no, now you’ll think that he is weird. 

You squat down and gather some snow. Yoongi watches you with big eyes. 

Then you get up and throw it right against his chest. The impact is gentle and dull. 

A smile tugs at your lips then you giggle. He feels tingly all over. So you did like it. 

Yoongi squats down again.

“Ah dear”, you gasp and then turn to run. 

“Wait you-”, Yoongi stops when he sees that just twenty feet from him you are gathering some snow of your own. His heart flutters. So this was a good idea. Yoongi is fun right now. 

He doesn’t get to celebrate with a smile because a snowball colliding with his shoulder stops him from it. 

You giggle in the distance, readying yourself to aim. 

Yoongi stands up, watching you tense up and then zoom away from him while giggles are leaving you. 

Yoongi sets out to chase you and then the most fun he has had in millennia begins. 

There are faint traces of snowball fights in his childhood somewhere on his memory map. But Yoongi can barely remember them. Hell, if he wasn’t running around the snow covered parking lot with you right now, he would have probably never even remembered them. 

I had snowball fights in my childhood. I had an older brother once. I had them with him.

He remembers those two specks in this moment and somehow it feels that because of it, even more snow begins to fall from the skies. 

Somewhere along the path of being less boring, Yoongi forgets all about his initial plans. And as this happens, he starts to genuinely enjoy running around with you. He even enjoys getting snow catapulted at his body, letting out little whines of complaints or just slightly pitched yelps. 

You are squeaking yourself, running all over the place as Yoongi chases you with snowballs in his hands. 

The fight is soon decided when you accidentally land a shot right at his face. Yoongi stumbles and then falls to the ground dramatically.

“Medic! I’m blind! Medic!” he yells, covering his face behind his eyes. 

“Holy moly, are you okay?” you gasp, hurrying to him. 

You fall to your knees and touch his arms.

“I’m so sorry. Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yes, you blinded me”, he whines. 

“No oh my god, Yoongi I’m so sorry. Let me see I, I can fix it.” 

Yoongi pulls his hands away, revealing his perfectly fine eyes to you. He smirks boyishly.

“Huh?” 

He moves, scooping up a little bit of snow just to throw it against your face carefully.

“Ah”, you cough then laugh, “Yoongi, I had my mouth open.”

Yoongi laughs. His chest feels like bursting in happiness right now. He feels so happy. Like a little child. When has he ever been silly enough to act out dramatic scenes and why is it so addicting to do when it’s with you? 

You rub your hands over your face, then look at him. Your hands reach for him and so it happens that you and him draw closer, almost toppling over in laughter. 

“You really got me there, I thought that I’d actually blinded you”, you say, picking a few pieces of snow out of his hair. You clean his scarf and coat next.

“I know right? I got you so good, you should have seen your face.”

Yoongi can’t stop grinning. He does it when you clean him and he does it when he cleans you and even after that he continues doing it.

You have never expected to see Yoongi act so…carefree. Just as you hadn’t expected him to run around and squeal like a little boy. Or even be the one to initiate the battle. 

You wonder what exactly made him want to start a snowball fight. In the end you come to the conclusion that he did so because he wanted to let out his sillier side with you.

You are so happy that he did. Happiness fits him so well. 

Yoongi helps you stands up, stumbling back when you attack him with a strong hug and a big smooch to his cheek.

“You are the best, Yoongi Boongie”, you say, smooching his other cheek as well.

Yoongi accepts it with a racing heartbeat and the overwhelming urge to hold you.

“I’m serious, you are the best.”

He says nothing. He just closes his eyes and leans in until you understand and claim his lips in a kiss. He can feel that you are smiling and he feels like smiling too. So he does, he smiles into the kiss and shivers when you caress the back of his neck with your tender fingers.

You pull back, keeping close enough that Yoongi can caress your nose with his own. He begins moving then, taking small steps until you realise what he was doing and you follow him with a smile.

“We’re dancing”, you breathe.

“Mhm, do you want to?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Mhm”, he hums and closes his eyes, resting his cheek against yours.

You feel your own eyes close as utter tranquillity threatens to overcome you. It feels so perfect to dance with Yoongi in the snowfall. You understand now why so many vampires lose themselves in their memories. You are here with him again under the bright lights of the gas station while snow is getting caught in your coats and there is no spy wanting you harm or no lingering threat of Namjoon wanting you dead. There is no time pressure to return to safety as quickly as possible. No. This right here is endless. A moment, which will always stay as calm and as perfect as it is right now for as long as you don’t step through the fog. And in this moment you can do all those things you had no time to do when it was your reality. Now you can kiss him, hold him, have silly snowball fights or dance with him and look at him for as long as you want to because you know that this right here is endless.

“Thank you so much, Yoongi”, you whisper.

“For what?”

“For all of this. I can barely even remember what I dreamed of now that I’m here.”

“Good”, he says, “I hope you can forget.”

“Me too. It was awful.”

Yoongi closes his arm around you tighter and kisses your cheek soothingly. 

“Yoongi, I’m sorry for avoiding you.”

“Don’t, you didn’t.”

“But I did”, you turn your head, locking eyes with him, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.”

“You probably want an explanation, don’t you?”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“I just”, you still begin, “I can’t stand the thought that you could judge me.”

Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion.

“I killed a person and, and I can stand anyone judging me for it, but not you. If, if I knew that you would think differently of me now that I did something that awful, it would rip me apart.”

“Why would you think that I would judge you for it?”

“I don’t know. I was just so scared that you could, so I never tried to prove myself wrong.”

“But…”, Yoongi blinks rapidly, “…did I make you feel that way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did I make you feel as, as if you needed to be ashamed in front of me?”

“Huh? Why would you think that way?”

“Because you said that this is why you avoided me. Did I really give you such a feeling?”

“No of course not. You didn’t, you…” you fall silent as you realise something, “holy fuck Yoongi, I just realised something. Taehyung was right. I created a picture of you in my head.”

You lift your head, looking into his eyes.

“I created something which isn’t even true and, and then believed it. Yoongi, I’m so sorry.”

“No, I uhm”, Yoongi feels lost for words. He tries to talk about his feelings for you. He may not do it with anyone else he meets, but with you, just with you, he tries to always be honest. But right now he can’t think of anything, because the entire situation confuses him so much.

You avoided him because you believed the voices in your head more than your reality. And Yoongi realises that he has been doing the same exact thing to you.

“Let’s go somewhere else”, he says.

“Huh? Wait- oh.”

You stumble into him, blinking at him in confusion now that he changed locations oh so abruptly.

“Oh god, now I’m dizzy”, you groan.

“Sorry, I just. I needed to be somewhere else.”

You look around. You are in the sitting room. The fireplace is crackling and outside a snow storm is raging. This is the night you helped him turn his emotions on. He is wearing the same clothes too. Black satin pants and a white button up.

He picks you up and lies you down on the sofa. He falls on top of you, knocking the air out of you. His urgency to cuddle surprises you not one bit as he often asks for them rather roughly, but somehow this time they give you a sense of unease. As if there was more behind them.

“___, I avoided you too”, he gives you the reason with that confession. It was muffled by your neck, but you heard it nonetheless.

“You did?” you gasp.

He nods his head.

“I’m sorry, I was pulling away.”

“What? Why?”

“I was scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

“Of being boring.”

“Boring?”

He nods his head, hugging you tighter.

“You are so full of life and, and everything excites you and you want to do so many things and I feel that sometimes I disappoint you when I don’t want to do them.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And then someone else agrees to do them with you and I’m happy for you because you get to experience something that makes you happy with someone you care about. But then I can’t help but…”

He inhales deeply.

“…feel so angry at myself, because I’m such a fucking boring grumps who can’t even get over himself and dance with you or go to stupid fun fairs with you or play a game with you.”

“Oh Yoongi.”

He sits up, burying his fingers in his own hair as he folds in on himself.

“I’m so angry at myself. So fucking angry. You deserve someone who is just as full of life and happiness and excitement as you, but then you get me. Who is angry and bad mooded and cold and boring.”

“Please don’t feel that way.”

“And then I get scared because I know that the day will come when you realise that you have way more fun with Taehyung or Jungkook or someone else. And then you won’t need me anymore. And I couldn’t even blame you because I know that I could never be as fun or carefree or spontaneous as other people and you have every right to grow bored of me.”

“I won’t grow bored of you”, you tell him, but Yoongi can barely even hear you.

“And I’m trying. I’m always telling myself now you gotta be more carefree Min Yoongi”, he mocks his own voice, “the next time she wants to do something you gotta say yes and show her that you’re fun too but then when it happens, I end up saying no again and disappointing myself so much. Why is it so hard for me to be fun and exciting?”

“Please stop talking like that about yourself.”

“And I’m so scared”, he confesses, “I’m so scared that one day you will see me the way I see myself”, he presses out and sobs quietly, squeezing his eyes together, “I hate myself so much, what if, if you feel the same way one day? That’s my biggest fear. That one day you will see me the way I see myself.”

“Stop please.”

Yoongi turns his head upon hearing the utter pain in your voice. Your eyes are glassy in unshed tears as you look at him.

“Please don’t talk like this about yourself. You are so fun and exciting in my eyes”, you say in a shaky voice, “yes, you won’t go to stuffy nightclubs with me or do a stupid dance battle in the middle of the dance floor, but I don’t care about that.”

You shake your head.

“I don’t take it badly when you don’t want to do something. I, I just always ask you because I don’t want you to feel as if I wouldn’t want to do those things with you. I know you don’t like crowds and people, so I don’t expect you to say yes.”

You scoot closer, touching his knee gently.

“But that doesn’t mean that I think that you are boring, because you aren’t. You are so exciting to be with and I’m so, so, so happy when I’m with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I like going out sometimes, but at the end of the day I would rather take hours of sitting somewhere quiet with you and doing nothing more than hold hands and talk over all of those nights.”

“Are you serious?”

“So serious. Yoongi my love, you are the most exciting person in my life, because you make my entire body tingle and, and my heart flutter and you make sitting and holding hands the most fun thing I could ever experience. And I think in my opinion this makes you the most exciting person ever.”

“But I don’t have anything to offer.”

“You have everything to offer!” you take his face between your hands, shaking him softly, “please stop talking like this. Please Yoongi, I’m begging you. It hurts me so much whenever you talk bad about yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes me feel as if I failed you as your girlfriend”, you sniffle sadly, “I work so hard to help you with loving yourself and whenever you talk yourself down, I feel like I wasn’t successful and then I feel sad.”

“But you shouldn’t.”

“Well, I do. And, and the thought that, that you even think that I could ever hate you breaks me”, you say and sob softly.

“Princess…please don’t cry”, he whispers, eyes widening in panic.

“I could never hate you, Min Yoongi”, you say with trembling lips, “please stop thinking like that, please.”

Yoongi lowers his head in shame. He realised quite a bit right now. That whenever he is hurting himself by being mean to himself, he also hurts the most important person in his life. His hurtful words hurt you just as much and that realisation makes Yoongi want to never talk bad about himself ever again.

“I’m sorry”, he says, drying your tears, “I won’t do it again. I don’t want you to feel as if you have failed me.”

“Good and I hope you stop feeling as if you have failed me”, you say, drying his tears.

“I’ll try”, he says and intertwines his fingers with you.

You draw closer, resting your head on his shoulder after kissing his cheek.

“I’m sorry too for thinking that you would judge me. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, I understand why you would think that way.”

“Really?”

He nods his head.

“I, I just f-feel so awful b-because she w-was your friend”, you get out and then you have to sob.

“Hey, my love, hey”, Yoongi cups your cheeks, wiping your tears away quickly, “don’t cry, it’s okay, my love. She wasn’t my friend.”

“I’m so s-sorry Yoongi.”

“It’s okay love, it’s okay”, he assures you and kisses your eyelids as gently as possible. Somehow it manages to stop your tears, body shuddering in your shaky exhale, “she wasn’t my friend. I had no idea who she was before we met her together.”

“Really?” you ask quietly, looking into his loving eyes, “so y-you aren’t mad at me for killing her?”

“Of course not, oh my sweetest princess”, he says, brushing his thumbs over your temples, “you could have killed Meredith in the cruellest of ways if that meant you could have been safe and I wouldn’t have been angry at you”, he says.

He wipes the new droplets of tears from your cheeks and kisses the tip of your nose.

“Being responsible for someone’s death is awful no matter how terrible that person was and I understand that you feel disgusted at yourself. But you shouldn’t worry that I’m disgusted. Or angry or whatever you think I might be.”

He takes your chin between two of his fingers most tenderly, gazing at you with all the love he has to offer.

“It just hurts me that you have to live with such a memory”, he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, “you were not supposed to experience something like this. Not you, my princess. Not you”, he says, placing his hand on the back of your head so he can make you rest your forehead against his.

You reach for him, having to hold onto his shoulders for support.

“I’m proud of you”, he whispers, “you did something incredibly brave when you went against Suzy. I know that it must have been scary to do, so I’m proud of you that you did.”

He wipes your tears away gently.

“But I’m also sorry”, he confesses, “I’m sorry for my misjudgement. If I hadn’t trusted her so blindly, you never would have had to kill her. I’m so angry at myself for trusting her solely because Meredith did. And I’m sorry that you had to experience this.”

“Please don’t apologize. I don’t blame you. Anyone would have believed her. I did so too. As did the others. She had all of us fooled.”

“I guess. I’m just…angry because I never misjudge people.”

“That’s not true. You thought that I’m a spoiled brat and now look at you having a silly crush on me.”

He laughs.

“Oh my god, ___”, he says, looking at you with widened eyes.

“I have a silly crush on you too”, you say and giggle, “we’re both silly.”

“Yeah we are”, he says and giggles. He allows himself to giggle because it’s just you and him right now.

“Ah fuck, Yoongi”, you laugh breathily, “I can’t believe we needed our own little romance movie set to finally open our mouths and talk it out. I was so scared to talk to you.”

“I’m glad we finally talked. I…” he lowers his eyes shyly, “…missed you like crazy.”

“Me too, I missed you so much.”

You nudge him softly, making him lift his head and gaze at your lips.

“Can I give you a kiss?” he asks.

“Yes”, you say, closing your eyes in preparation.

Yoongi does so too, leaning in blindly because he knows that he can find you even in blindness. He will always find you. Always.

It happens naturally that you claim your right on his lap. You claim it loudly and proudly and Yoongi pulls you closer to let you know that you will never ever lose that right.

He shivers when you threat your fingers through his hair and realises that with that shiver his heart was racing unbearably.

“Princess”, he breaks the kiss.

“What?”

He takes your hand and places it over his heart.

“What?” you breathe, sniffling quietly while your lips turn into a pout, “Yoongi…” you meet his eyes, “I can feel your heartbeat.”

He nods his head and smiles, squeezing your hand.

“I don’t understand.”

“I can alter everything in here.”

“Yoongi, oh god”, you spill tears.

“Don’t cry.”

“You know me, I’m so emotional. Gosh, I can’t stop crying. Oh my god, Yoongi you have a heartbeat. Oh and it’s racing so much. Yoongi, I love you”, you say, surprising him with a deep kiss.

He huffs out air in surprise, but closes his eyes quickly, wrapping his arms around you. You keep your hand on his chest, feeling how his heart is racing oh so quickly. So that is how he feels when you kiss. That is just how quickly his heart would beat if he had a pulse.

“What does that mean?” you ask him, “are you human?”

“In a way.”

“Oh Yoongi, I’m so”, you whimper and kiss him.

You never want to stop kissing him again. Never ever again. You are home again. The fireplace is keeping you warm while outside it snows. And Yoongi has a pulse which is racing under your fingertips. You never ever want to leave this place again.

“Yoongi”, you whisper, pushing him down on the sofa. 

Yoongi falls messily, his head misses the armrest by just an inch, now resting on the warmed up fabric while his dark hair sprawls over the pillow. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, tingling as you run your hands over his chest almost obsessively, “princess…what are you doing?” 

“I just...” you trail off, resting your cheek against his chest. Your ear is pressed against his chest, “oh god, I can hear it. It, it sounds beautiful.”

With a shaky intake of breath you turn your head, kissing his chest oh so tenderly. “I love you, Yoongi. I love you so much”, you whisper shakily.

It makes Yoongi tingle and for his heart to speed up.

“Oh, my love”, you sigh, tugging him back by his shirt. 

Yoongi just manages to close his eyes and you are already kissing him, stealing his breath and in the process his sanity. He didn’t think that his pulse affects you that much. Truly, it affects him as well. It has been too many millennia since he last felt oh so alive. But that it affects you so deeply, Yoongi hadn’t expected it. It moves him. You are so happy for him. It feels so special that you are.

“I love you”, you say in a laughed sob, ruffling his hair by just how deeply you want to bury your fingers in it.

There he is. Yoongi. His truth. His open and vulnerable truth. Here he is with his bleeding heart on the table and his soul bared. And in this moment he realises just how easy it is to show his truest truth to you.

“I love you too”, he whispers, “I love you so much that speaking about it is hard. I think if I loved you less it would be easier, but I can’t”, he cups your face, “I can’t love you less. Just more. More and more each passing day.”

“Oh Yoongi.”

“I love you, ___”, he whispers, falling into a kiss at the same time.

Now you are the one whose back hits the sofa. Yoongi rests himself on top of you, cupping your cheek with his safe, oh so tender hands. The most logical position for your arms would be around his neck, but you just can’t seem to want to break away from his chest, touching him with eager desperation.  

It is Yoongi who breaks the kiss anew, having to get air back in his lungs.

Your breaths mingle. His eyes race between yours just as yours do between his’.

“I’d lose my immortality for you”, he whispers.

“Yoongi…”

He smiles, leaning in to rub the tip of his nose against yours. His thumb dances over your cheekbone, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

“No hesitation, none”, he breathes and claims your trembling lips in a kiss.

Maybe that is why he chose to have a heartbeat in his memories. Because he wants to experience how it is to be mortal with you. Even if it is nothing but pretend and even if his real body was still cursed by unbreakable immortality, in here where the air is warm and you are finally home again, Yoongi can pretend to share mortality with you.

And this fact makes him kiss you even deeper. Because right now he knows that moments as precious as this one are numbered by the days his heart decides to keep beating for.

“You shouldn’t say that”, you break the kiss, caressing his lips with your thumb, “don’t give up your powers for me.”

“I don’t want them. I never did. Just one life with you. That’s all I want.”

“I know just…I’d give up my mortality for you, Yoongi. So you need to stay eternal with me.”

“Don’t give it up.”

“Why not?”

“Just…“ he exhales shakily, “being alive is the most precious thing you can be.”

You smile, “no, Yoongi”, you cup his face, “the most precious thing I can be is to be by your side.”

Yoongi feels tears well up in his eyes and his lower lip tremble.

“Forever”, you add in a whisper.

“My love”, he croaks, holding back sobs.

“Don’t cry my beloved”, you soothe him, which only makes him want to cry harder.

He feels so guilty for ever thinking about using the blade on himself. Taehyung was right, you were planning on staying alive and he should do the same. He should plan his happiness with you instead of thinking about dying. He can die another day, right now he has a life to live.

“I’m happy”, he presses out and buries his face in your neck. He sobs softly, shoulders shaking.

“I’m happy too, Yoongi”, you answer him, cradling him tightly.

“I want to live”, he confesses and laughs all while he is sobbing.

You don’t quite understand what he is talking about, but it makes you smile nonetheless. You thread your fingers through his hair and ruffle it softly.

“I want to live so fucking bad”, he presses out, convulsing in a sob before he hugs you so tightly, you wonder if he wants to merge with you.

“Well, I’m glad you do, because I won’t let you die for a long time. Hear me? We still got so much stuff to do and so many places to go.”

“Yes, I’ll take you there. I’ll do it. All of it. I’ll do it”, Yoongi babbles, nodding his head vigorously.

“And a billion more cuddles to do, hear me?”

“Yes, I do”, he says and sobs so miserably you feel worried.

“Gosh Yoongi, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” you ask him, rubbing his shaking back.

He dismisses you with a shake of his head. He can’t tell you what was wrong, because he has no idea why he is actually crying. Relief over having you back. Happiness over being with you. Guilt for even considering ending his life. Grief over his lost chance at mortality. Or maybe he feels all of it at the same time. Perhaps however he simply realised that he loves you more than mortality and that he would do anything to keep you with him. And that realisation feels like medicine to his broken heart.

And so it happens that after that cry, he stays close to you. His head rests on the pillow, his chest is atop of yours and like this, you can feel each other’s heartbeats. Yoongi feels at peace like this.

“Can you tell me why you cried like this?” you ask him softly, playing with his hair.

“I love you”, he whispers.

“That is why you cried?”

He nods his head.

“Oh, my love you are so sweet.”

“I feel so tired now.”

“No wonder, you cried a lot.”

The ground shakes under you.

“What was that?” you gasp, holding him closer.

Yoongi takes a look to the side. You turn. The windows are disappearing right before your eyes.

“What is happening?” 

“You’re falling asleep.”

“No”, you draw closer, “Yoongi, I don’t want to leave yet. I have so much to talk to you about.”

“It’s okay. We’ll see each other again.”

“But I’m not ready. I don’t want to leave home. Yoongi, please make me wake up again.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

The colour disappears from the world.

“Yoongi”, you touch his chest, clutching him oh so tightly.

“Don’t fight it”, he whispers, “we’re just changing locations.” 

“I don’t want to leave you. P-please don’t make us leave”, you beg, pressing your hand to his chest desperately. You have to feel it. Feel all of it. His heartbeat. You don’t want to lose it yet.  

“You won’t. We’ll slip away from here and meet each other in our dreams again.”

“No, Yoongi but your pulse”, you feel oh so close to tears.

“It’s okay. I don’t need a pulse to feel alive. I have you.”

The fire stops crackling and you realise that the void of nothingness is inching closer and closer.

“Yoongi.”

“It’s okay. We’ll meet again in our dreams. Don’t be afraid.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“It’s okay, just close your eyes and you won’t feel a thing. We’ll meet again, I promise.”

“We can?”

“Yes, I will make sure that we can.”

“We’ll surely meet?”

“Yes, just close your eyes.” 

You do. You close your eyes. You tingle then. You tingle so incredibly much.

And then you fall asleep with Yoongi following you after making sure that your meeting place was set.

#yoongi romance #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #vampire!yoongi #bts romance #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts x you #vampire!bts #bangtan romance #bangtan fanfic #bangtan x reader #vampire!bangtan #bangtan x you #bangtan fanfiction #yoongi fluff #fanfic: magnus venatio

[bloomingpresent]

Ferro Rosso Chapter V

Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Female reader digital artist older woman

Summary: on your mids 30’s you never imagine you’d be divorce. To help with the healing process you decide to return to you first love: digital illustration. Posting videos of your art online leads you to work for Ferrari. But you never thought it’d lead you to find somebody that’s going to bring you back to trust again in love.

Warnings: none, this one it's pretty much fluff. Some swearing.

Disclaimer: I'm sorry it took me so long to update this. I've been so busy lately. But I don't want to leave this story. This chapter it's pretty much fluff. I tried to set the grounds for what's come. These two are fighting their own demons. All errors, grammar mistakes, and misspellings are my own. English isn't my first language.

You can find all the previous chapters on my Masterlist

The first races of the season were a disaster for Ferrari. Bahrain was disappointing for the whole team. But for Charles, it was incredibly frustrating.

You would have wanted to be there to support him, but with this policy of sex, "emotional support" does not apply. This was starting to get a little complicated. Not knowing how to act in this situation was beginning to take you out of your center. And that was not right.

Finding yourself thinking about him in certain situations, staring at him when they film material for the networks, and even not responding to other men's flirtations. Nothing was right. Your first reaction: don't talk to him, text him, or start anything. Your way of protecting yourself in this new situation is for you.

Seeing it from the outside you were the wonder woman: professional, running your art studio, working for Ferrari, traveling, meeting people, and experiencing new things. Inside a battle is taking place.

The race was devastating for everyone, but Charles felt it, and it showed on his face.

After the race, a battle raged inside of you. You wanted to give him encouragement and perhaps a hug. But your work situation and your sentimental situation do not allow it.

Every time his face appears on the screens you stop yourself from running to hug him.

Up to the next race you got, holding yourself from trying to contact him.

After the race in Saudi Arabia.Charles is angry, sad, and anxious, but most of all he feels trapped. He can't and won't show how he’s feeling. He chooses quiet and privacy. Chooses the safest path. He prefers to spend time in the hotel room. Doing whatever it takes to not drown and stay positive and open to new possibilities.

Safe mode for Charles means not showing himself out of control, which he clearly doesn't know how to do when you're around him. So he chooses to step away.

The weeks off are approaching and he believes that can help not thinking about you.

Both have buried all emotions you  may have felt for each other. Or at least they both believe so.

You in your work, he in his.

On race day you stick to your tradition of having lunch alone, away from the Ferrari hospitality area. Sitting at a table, watching the pre-race fuzz from outside. Watching how people come and go, you take notes of what inspires you, and what makes you feel. Just dumping thoughts before getting back into the madness of formula one.

Professional treatment is always there. You have to have a contact for your work.

While filming footage for the Ferrari C2 Challenge, one of your teammates noticed the way Charles was looking at you. "Why is he looking at you like that? Is he looking at you? Do you notice that look?" he comments to you while he watches the images on the monitors.

You flatly deny it and continue with your work. There is so much work to be done these days, you don't have time for this.

Race time arrives, and Australia is ablaze with Formula One passion as the red lights go out and the race begins.

It does not go beyond the first lap and the number 16 Ferrari car goes off the track. The race is over for Charles. The radio goes silent for a few seconds. Until the voice of the engineer asks if he is okay. The sigh of Charles's response from the other end breaks your heart.

If you took off the sunglasses you're wearing, everyone could see your glassy eyes. It's not fair. It's all you can think of.

Charles doesn't even go through the garage, he just goes to his private room to wait for the race to finish.

The whole team has to be there for Carlos now. But you can only think of going where he is to cheer him up.

The race doesn't end well for Carlos either. Ferrari gets no points and everyone is discouraged. All that remains is to pack up and go home to recharge.

After everything is over, only the employees and those close to Ferrari remain in the hospitality area.

You are finishing coordinating the itinerary that will be filmed tomorrow for the networks, when you see Charles and Carlos go to the area where their private rooms are.

You consider the possibility check how he was.. One second, two seconds... and that's it, your emotions betray you. You take the sheet that has the itinerary for tomorrow as an excuse, and go up the stairs to his room.

On the way you don't even doubt it, but when you arrive at the door of the room, all the fears asault you. Still, you want to see how he is.

You knock on the door, footsteps are heard approaching to open.

When you look up to see who's opening the door, your blood freezes in your veins.

"Can I help you?" his girl asks you.

"Shit! when did she get here?!" your mind screams. “I…I….” Words fail you “ I came to give this to Charles… I mean Leclerc…. I mean Charles…” you suddenly forget how to speak.

“I think he’s the ingenier meeting, I can give to him for you…” she says, taking the sheet from your hands.

“Thank you…” you reply looking at her hands “oh I love your nails….” Words just ramble on out of you making no sense. 

She gracefully thanks you and you begin to walk back to leave. 

When the door starts to close and you turn around to leave and your face hits Charles’s chest.

“Y/n?! What are you doing here?” he asks you looking around. You can see on his face how upset he is. 

“ I just came to leave the schedule for tomorrow shooting…" you lower your voice in case his girl was listening “…. And to see how you are” you look up and smile.

Charles instead looks annoyed.

 “I’m fine, I’ll be on time for the filming” he says with a dry tone and walks past you like nothing. 

You turn around in shock as the door closes behind Charles. 

You feel the urge of punching the door open and ruin that pretty face of him. 

A few seconds ago you worried and sad for him and he just dismissed you. That’s fucking it. You weren’t up for this shit, for his shit. 

And that’s how this horrible day ends. 

You leave along with your coworkers with the promise of not even looking at that man again.

No one in the team is actually it’s up to go out and celebrate the few weeks away ahead. But everyone gets together for dinner at the hotel restaurant. Mechanics, engineers, hospitality staff, media team…everyone, except for the drivers.

On your way up to your room you crossed paths with Esteban Ocon. Both of you had chat around the paddock after that party in Barhain. He is a cool and friendly guy.

“You looked tired” he says walking along the hallway on the way to the elevator. 

The hallways are buzzing with f1 people preparing stuff to leave the next morning.

“I am tired..” you smike looking down at your feets while walking “...Haven’t you heard? Were the shitties team of the grid now”. 

“Oh please!” Esteban gives you a light pat on the back “ Don’t give that shit to me ok? I know what lausy teams are and Ferrari isn’t one of them. You’d be back on top in no time.” he says.

Even though you appreciate his nice gesture, you are feeling like crap at the moment and nothing it’s working to cheer you up.

Both keep walking along side each other, talking about random things and laughing until you reach the elevators.

“It’s the king of Ferrari’s shity weekend himself, Mr. Charles Leclerc” Esteban says out of nowhere

Your gaze down as he said that. Your eyes quickly loock up to find him and his girls waiting for the elevator too.

You’re modified and your face surely is showing it up, because you feel you cheeks burning. 

Charles on the other hand doesn’t even look at you, he just smiles at Esteban’s comment, shakes his hand and introduces his girl to Esteban. 

He completely ignores you. 

An awardk silences falls upon everyone as the four of you wait for the elevator’s doors open. 

You start biting your nails in a nervous gesture. You don't know why you're nervous, you're not doing anything wrong or out of the rules, but you're about to faint. Nerves, anger, embarrassment, all mixed up.

"Don't bite your beautiful nails" Esteban says as he removes your hand from your mouth.

You freeze at that. You look at Charles, and nothing, his face is blank. As if he hadn't heard anything.

You smile nervously.

When the doors open, you panic and excuse yourself by saying that you forgot something in the restaurant. You don't get on an elevator with them.

You stay in the lobby walking in circles with your nerves on edge. You don't really know why, but you know that it didn't look good.

After a few minutes you go up to your room, take your phone and start typing away a text message. 

Charle’s POV

This has all been a mistake from the start.

He’s always in control of all situations in his life.

This time it is not the case. His giving in to the instinct to be with y/n was a mistake, because now there is no turning back for him.

He started dating someone else to stop thinking about her. But everything is useless. Now she works at Ferrari and he has to see her day after day.

The "friends who have sex" deal was a mistake too. On nights when everyone goes to the hotel rooms, he only thinks about going to bed with her and he can't. He can't because of the agreement, he can't because he thinks she's fine that way, he can't because he's seeing someone else, he can't because they work together....he can't, he can't, he can't...

"Damn the moment I let her get under my skin."

Both are so tough that neither will be willing to give in to their true desires.

She had this habit of having lunch alone and away from everyone before the races. Charles managed to watch her from afar, like a hunter, or more exactly like a stalker. Sometimes through the windows of his room in the Ferrari bunker.

She is just sitting there eating her food, reading something, writing, watching how people walk past her. She looked so at peace, so free to do what she wanted without anyone caring. And he just wanted to share that with her.

Charles wants to be with her, but he's always in control, he always knows what to do, and he's sure he'll get through this.

Spending the night with her whenever they can slip away from the world is enough for him. Or it isn’t?

The races have been so bad for him, for the team, that he constantly found himself needing to share things with someone who really understood what was happening to him. And he constantly found himself looking up her name on her phone to contact her. But he always stops himself, he's not going to succumb to her, he's not going to show anything.

The season it’s crap. Everything goes wrong.

After the races it's hard to stay positive and in control.

He then asks his friends and his girl to come join him.

Everything is relatively in control.

All of that changes every time she tries to contact him.

Back in the Ferrari hospitality area after this Australian race, he meets her at the door of her private room. And the whole facade almost falls apart when she asks him how he is. She has clearly seen that his girl is with him.

His mind only thinks of not thirsting. He just answers her curtly and goes to his room, where the torture of pretending to be okay awaits.

He gets to feel better after having dinner with his girl and his friends.

Walking towards the elevator, he sees her in the distance, walking next to his friend Esteban Ocon, laughing happily chatting.

"What the hell...?" he mutters under his breath. His girl is next to him.

When the four of them arrive at the doors of the elevator, an awkward silence falls over them. Esteban dares to touch her and tell her not to bite her beautiful nails.

Every cell in his body is on fire with jealousy. But he knows that he can't do anything. And he won't do anything because he is in control of everything.

He knows that she is not comfortable because she decided not to get on the elevator with them.

On the elevator, things start to get out of hand for him.

"Chatting with the enemy?" Charles tells Esteban, who is laughing at something he is seeing on his cell phone.

"Uh? who? y/n?" Esteban answers looking at him.

Charles nods.

"Oh! We've talked a lot these days. She's nice. Maybe I'll buy some artwork from her to decorate my new apartment" he replies casually.

"You've talked a lot?...I see" Charles answers, biting his lip, refraining from asking anything else.

By the time Charles arrivesin his room, nothing is under control.

Charles is jealous. Who knows why, she's only been talking to Esteban. But even so, he no longer has control over what he is feeling. And that's not good.

The couple enters the room, the girl falls on the bed and turns on the tv.

Charles goes to the bathroom, and looking in the mirror washes his hands while he chews on his feelings.

He returns to the room, and begins to remove his bracelets and watch. His mind wanders everywhere.

Then his phone vibrates with a text message.

From: y/n

"I just went up to your room to check on you. I know it's been shitty weeks for you. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise to keep my distance."

Charles's eyes read the  text message.

 "Distance?, from me?" he thinks

His mind goes blank, he is purely instinct now. 

"I have an emergency meeting with my team. I'll be back in a bit." It was the last thing he said before closing the hotel room door behind him.

Already in the elevator, with his phone in his hands, he could only think that he did not want to put distance between him and her.

His feet seem to have a mind of their own when they walk towards her room.

He knocks on the door.

"I don't want distance between her and me," he thinks as he listens to her footsteps approaching to open the door.

Note: I would love your feedback, please.

#charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclarc x female reades #charles leclerc x older female reader #charles leclerc x older woman #reverse age gap relationship #reverse age gap #older woman / young man #older woman/charles leclerc #charles leclerc x lectora mujer #charles leclerc x mujer mayor #ferro rosso #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic

[ask-kirfluffau]

HIS MAJESTY, SIR KIRBY OF THE STARS, CO-RULER OF PATCHLAND:

The King's King~

Guys, ever since I created Kirby's king consort outfit: it's consumed my every waking moment. I wanted to make a simple piece, but... It made me realize how beautiful our boy is~... Of course, I had to make a bunch of them and got carried away.

Before, Fluff would have to attend these stuffy meetings & events alone. Basically, a bunch of cocky nobles & politicians crowded in one room: indulging in shallow & boring conversations. But after Kirby was able to come along, they became enjoyable. And Kirby is a total boss when he goes king mode. But still, the same lovable Kirby; he smuggles the leftovers after every event and brings them back for everyone at HQ (and himself, of course).

I'm planning to make a Fluff version: Fluff has a second outfit as well... (which I'm dying to show you but will be revealed later): he wears it when we go out on missions with Kirby (which Kirby absolutely adores).

And I have said this before Fluff loves Kirby's King Consort Outfit!

But there's actually a really sentimental reason for it:

This was when Kirby & Fluff were about to go public with their relationship. They were going to attend a political gala together as a couple for the first time. Kirby felt safe GSA was going to be there too... but he was still nervous.

He didn't want Fluff to know how anxious he was... so a week before the event, Kirby went to Dom Woole to ask if he needed to do anything else. Dom assured him and told him how happy he was that they were dating. And then Kirby found out about something:

Dom Woole: There's nothing for you to worry about! You've done more than enough: should the day come when you rule by his majesty's side: I'd be more than happy to serve you both.

Kirby: Aw, thank you, Dom Woole... that makes me feel much better.

Dom Woole: His Majesty is so happy you're attending with him. After all these years, he won't have to attend alone... going to these events since he was a boy!

Kirby: Wait, what?!

Kirby knew Fluff had been ruling the by himself since he was a kid... He wasn't aware that Fluff stepped into the political world as a child as well.

He had some experience (as a star warrior) and already knew how cutthroat the political world can be. Though he had MK and the others to guide him. But the fact Fluff had to step into it by himself as a child...

(In a sense, while Kirby was fighting monsters & demons: Fluff had to fight political demons...)

This lit a fire inside Kirby; he wanted to show Fluff that he wasn't alone anymore. Then he remembered his uniform and badge:

"Star Warriors wear their uniforms & stars to remember they're not the only ones left in the sky..."

At that moment, he knew what he wanted to do. So on the day of the gala, Kirby showed up matching with Fluff. Fluff was incredibly star-struck, though he was incredibly curious why. Which leads to a very sweet moment between them:

Fluff: You look amazing- wait, is it okay that you're not wearing your uniform with the other star warrior- the GSA here too.

Kirby: You don't have to worry I already told everyone and besides... I'm not attending as a star warrior...

~take his hand

I want everyone to know that I'm attending here to be with you... I'm here for you.

And as you can imagine, Fluff just loses it. (Maybe I'll make a comic about it next time. )

Hope you all enjoy it! I'll answer some questions in the next post!

#kirfluff #kirby #prince fluff #kbasw #kirby au #kirby's epic yarn

[genshin-impact-writings]

A bit specific I hope you don't mind

Could I please request Ayato, Childe, and Zhongli headcanons for comforting their S/O who had a bad day at work, is extremely tired, and anxiety spiking through the roof please?

Thank you, hope this works

-question anon

Thank you for your request, dear! <3 I feel like this was the perfect request to work on right now because I've been really stressed from work recently. In any case, I hope you like what I came up with! Have a good day/night and stay safe. :) I tried a different format for this one btw, I hope that's okay.

Characters: Kamisato Ayato, Childe/Tartaglia, Zhongli 

Comforting their s/o after a bad day at work (gn!reader)

Kamisato Ayato 

“Darling, I understand how you’re feeling. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Ayato is someone who knows exactly how exhausting and overwhelming work can be sometimes. He’s no stranger to feeling stressed and anxious due to the work piling up on his desk, so it doesn’t take him long to realize what is bothering you when you come back home that day. He can relate to the tired and sad expression on your face, although it really breaks his heart to see you like this. 

He immediately drops everything to be there for you, even if it means that most of the paperwork for the day will be left half-done. His work is incredibly important, yes, and he actually can’t afford to slack off but you’re his s/o and your wellbeing will always be his main priority. 

Since he knows very well how it is to feel like a failure sometimes, he spends a lot of time reassuring you that you’re enough, that you’re doing incredibly well and that you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling stressed and anxious after a day like this. It’s easier said than done, he’s aware of that, but that obviously doesn’t stop him from trying to cheer you up again.

“My poor darling,” Ayato says softly as he pulls you into his arms. Your quiet sobs, muffled by the fabric of his jacket when you press your face against his shoulder, break his heart, and once again, he wishes he could find the proper words to comfort you. He rests his cheek on top of your head, cradling you in his arms. “Shh,” he whispers. “It’s alright. You’re not alone.”

Childe/Tartaglia 

“If there’s anything I can do, please tell me. I’m here for you, buttercup.”

You probably get back home earlier than Childe on most days and usually, you greet him with a smile and a hug as soon as he comes through the door. So, it doesn’t take him long to realize that something is off when there’s no sign of you, and when he finds you curled up on the sofa or in your bed, it’s crystal clear that you’re upset about something.

It’s not hard to put one and one together and figure out that you most likely experienced a rough day at work, especially when you’ve been stressed out anyway recently. It pains him to see you like this because he knows he can’t really help you with these things. However, what he can and will do is to be there for you and listen if you need someone to talk.

Childe also doesn’t mind lying down next to you and holding you in his arms for a while without saying a single world. He just wishes he could make things a bit easier for you and take the burden off your shoulders. If he could, he’d even take some of your work off your hands to give you more time to rest and relax but since that’s not possibly he focuses on comforting you when you experience a bad time at work. 

Childe kisses the top of your head as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay,” he whispers reassuringly and wraps his arms around you in an attempt to shield you from the world that has caused you so much stress and anxiety today. “I’m here.” And he means it – no matter what happens, you can always count on him to catch you when you fall.

Zhongli

“You don’t have to talk about it but please know that you are not alone, my love.”

Zhongli is quite an observant man, so there’s really no point in trying to hide your struggles from him. To him, it’s always so obvious when you had a rough time at work, just from seeing the tension in your posture or how your eyes don’t sparkle as they do usually. It hurts him so much to see you like this but at the same time, he feels this somewhat irrational anger that someone (or something) is causing you so much stress. 

He wouldn’t ask you directly what’s wrong because he knows from experience that you’ll talk when you feel like it. Instead, he does a number of more subtle things to support you and cheer you up, like preparing your favorite food or offering you a massage because your shoulders are so tense and it surely is quite uncomfortable for you. 

He makes it very clear that you can always count on him, no matter what happened. Need some help with your work? He’s there. One of your colleagues has been talking you or your efforts down? He reassures you that you’re doing your best and you shouldn’t listen to them. 

“I’m sorry you had a rough day,” Zhongli says, his voice as soft and soothing as always, as he presses his thumb against a particularly tense spot right between your shoulder blades. When you let out a quiet sigh of relief, he leans down and brushes his lips against your neck in a gentle kiss. “You don’t have to go through this alone, my love. I’m by your side."

Thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed it, please consider liking, reblogging and/or leaving some feedback. I'd appreciate the support. <3

Taglist: @kaeyas-beloved @genshinparty @the-gayest-sky-kid @ajaxstar

#kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #kamisato ayato fluff #childe x reader #childe x you #childe fluff #Zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #Zhongli fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert

[sirenascales]

Hello!

Can I please request a chuuya × (really short) Port mafia executive fem! Reader smut?

She is strong and kinda overprotective and the short king has to remind her whose the boss <3

( they aren't together but they have a secret crush on each other)

Thank you so much ~♡

Thanks so much for the request :) i hope you like it!

chuuya x f!reader (gave you an unnamed ability i made up on the fly hehe)

cw: smut

Stepping into the small, shitty motel room, you could have wept at the sight of the single bed set against the wall. The last mission was fucking rough, and your body was paying the price for it. It ached all over. "Today fucking sucked."

"You're telling me," the man with you huffed in annoyance, storming into the room and falling back onto the bed. Your eyebrow twitched and you growled.

"You're dirty! Get off the bed, Chuuya!"

"Oh, go fuck yourself. I'm tired!"

You scoffed and stormed to the bathroom. You had to wash off all the dirt and blood before you could even think of relaxing. After a while, you returned to the room wearing just your undergarments, glaring at Chuuya. "Go shower."

"Shut the fuck up," he cursed at you, but he did as told anyways.

Like Chuuya, you were also an executive for the Port Mafia, though you were the newest of them. Technically, Chuuya was your superior in time and experience alone... but that didn't mean you stayed quiet.

He was loud, obnoxious and can be reckless and it drove you insane. You were worried he would get seriously hurt one day. It made you so anxious, you feel like throwing up sometimes. You couldn't help it, you liked him way too much.

Yeah.

"God, look at your ribs," you immediately hounded around Chuuya when he came out from the bathroom, the bruises on his torso sending you on overdrive. You couldn't help it, you were an obsessive worry wort of a person. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Chuuya was blushing, scowling at you as he inched away from you. He wasn't totally used to how protective you were. It was kinda weird, but it was that weirdness that made you a powerful ally, your ability powered by your intense need to protect those closest to you. Chuuya could almost describe it as you going into "Mama Bear" mode, with how scary and strong you get.

"I am perfectly fine, now just relax," he scoffed at you, making a beeline for the bed. "Let's just get some sleep."

You pouted, climbing into bed with him. "I'm just saying, Chuuya, you could be a little more careful next time. You could hurt yourself!"

"I'll have you know... you were the one that destroyed that building this time."

"I know! But it was after those bastards got to you! I got scared!"

"You don't have to be scared, you idiot!" Chuuya exclaimed, glaring at you. "I can take care of myself!"

"But-"

"Shut up! Did you forget who's in charge here? Who's been here the longest? It's me. You're just a fucking newbie so you have no place to try and order me around."

You huffed, returning Chuuya's glare with a glare of your own. "Well, if you weren't so damn reckless!"

"You're just gonna have to deal with it! God, you're incredibly annoying."

"I'm annoying but you still keep me around?"

Chuuya stammered at that, red tinting his cheeks. "That has nothing to do with it. I can acknowledge your power and still find you stupid and insufferable."

You scoffed and turned your nose us. "And you are obnoxious and arrogant."

You two glared fiercely at one another, the tension so thick, it was almost suffocating. You two would have turned away after a while, yet things don't always go as planned.

Before you both knew it, you were on your back, Chuuya hovering on top of you with his mouth on your neck and his cock buried inside of you. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, your head thrown back into the pillows as Chuuya thrusted into you deeply, making you cry out in pleasure.

Chuuya groaned and bit your neck, keeping up a steady pace as he fucked you. If he was honest, he'd admit to imagining this for a while, the tension with you two finally getting into a boiling point where you two would finally snap and fall into bed. He always felt it, every time you two squabbled like an old married couple.

Chuuya would never admit, though, that he liked you doting over him. Deep, deep, down... he liked that you cared. And he knew that you were sincere. And you were. You wore your heart on your sleeve, and it was your undying love and fierce will to protect that made you strong and perfect for the Port Mafia.

It's almost funny.

"Oh fuck... please, just like that..." you moaned, grabbing Chuuya's face and kissing him deeply. "Please, Chuuya... I'm gonna cum..."

Chuuya groaned into your mouth, moving to kiss on your neck again as he continued to fuck you. You soon came around him with a loud moan, and he groaned again as you squeezed him tightly, triggering his own orgasm where he came deep inside of you with a low curse.

After a moment, Chuuya flops beside you on the bed, you breathing heavily with sweat covering your bodies. You started to smile, and you covered your mouth as you started to giggle.

"Wow..."

Chuuya just chuckled, rolling his eyes as he glanced over at you. Alright... so maybe you weren't so annoying.

I'm taking requests~

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #bsd smut #bsd x reader #yeehaw boi

[separatist-apologist]

The Death Of Peace Of Mind

When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?

Summary: Eris Vanserra is a man who is used to feeling nothing.

All that is about to change.

For day 5 of romance week (but maybe we're not gonna tag this one): Feelings Realization

Read on AO3 | Part 1

“What would you do if you found out the guy you were kind of seeing is a psychopath?” Arina asked, jogging across a sidewalk before a car could come barreling through.

“Are you talking about Eris?” Elain replied through the phone. “I know he can be intense, but underneath it all, he’s really decent.”Arina almost laughed. She was talking about Eris, who wished her a good morning each day and asked her how things were going when she got off work. He’d sent flowers to her doorstep.

And at night he climbed through her window, tied her up with rope, and ate her pussy like it was the finest meal he’d ever had. He was also planning his next murder, which Arina was struggling with. Not because he was doing it…but because she found she just didn’t care. 

What did it say about her that she was anxious for all three of them to be dead? That what she really wanted was for him to take off that stupid mask, tell her the truth, and let her merge these two men into one complete picture. 

“We have a date tomorrow night,” Arina told Elain, making her way to Eris’s office. He’d made this appointment for her, the controlling bastard. It hadn’t stopped her from making her way across the city to see him or from putting on a clingy dress and make-up, knowing full well he was going to have to unzip the top if he wanted to see her ribs. 

No bra, of course. 

It was ridiculous, but nothing he hadn’t seen before at this point. Arina had stopped wearing clothes to bed given Eris would just slice them right off her body. One ruined pajama set was fine. Five of them was too much. Besides, she rather liked being woken to the feel of the soft blindfold sliding over her eyes. He’d found more gentle rope after the first night left burns on her skin, and tied her so there were no lingering welts.

For a murderer—and a stalker—he was surprisingly thoughtful. 

“I hope it goes well,” Elain offered cheerfully. “And not just because I think it would be fun to date brothers. Eris could use someone in his life. He seems lonely.”Arina wasn’t touching that with a ten foot pole. 

“Maybe,” she agreed, though she suspected there was more to it than that. Arina was at the office and needed to end this conversation before she saw the man in question. “Let me call you back.”

Arina slid her phone into her bag and entered the clinical office. She filled out the required paperwork and handed over her insurance and ID before she was directed to sit on a rather nice leather choice facing a television. A woman with a small child weaving around her legs bounced her foot as she glanced toward the door at the other end of the room. Magazines were spread over a chipped coffee table while different posters warning people not to smoke, drink, or have unprotected sex were hung against beige walls.

“Ms. Novak?” 

A nurse in cheerful lavender scrubs called Arina back. She wondered if Eris let her jump the line, or if this woman was waiting to see a different doctor. Arina was weighed, her blood pressure taken, and a patient history given before she was left alone behind a closed door, sitting atop an exam table that had a model of a human heart sitting on the little gray counter. She was tempted to fidget with it, to pull apart the different ventricles and see if she could piece it back together.

A knock on the door tempered that impulse. A moment later, Eris Vanserra poked his head through the crack before stepping in entirely. Arina’s heart took off at a gallop when she saw him, dressed in a white button down tucked into a pair of charcoal slacks. He looked incredible with his styled hair pushed off his elegant, handsome face. Closing the door, Eris turned a truly sultry smile on her.

“You came.”

“I’m sure you saw me on the sheet,” she replied, suddenly embarrassed by this obvious attempt to seduce him. Surely this man wasn’t creeping through her bedroom window each night. He didn’t seem capable of such a thing. 

“That doesn’t mean you’d show up,” he replied, sitting easily on a swivelling stool to pull up her chart. “How are you feeling?”

Raw from your fingers and mouth and rope. “Better,” she replied. He nodded, scanning whatever he saw on the screen.

“Sleeping well? Eating?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Any pain?”

She shook her head, forcing him to glance up at her. “Good,” he murmured, typing quickly. He stood, looking her over. With gentle, warm fingers, Eris turned her face toward his own and brushed his thumb over the bruise still healing on her cheekbone. 

Which one?

She almost shivered. 

Eris dropped his hand to step around the table for a stethoscope. “Deep breaths. Just like before,” he murmured, sliding the little notches into his ears. He was close enough she could smell the familiar crisp, spicy scent of his cologne. Her whole body reacted on instinct, flooding her with heat like she did every night. Eris didn’t seem to notice, or was too professional to acknowledge it. He merely replaced the little piece of metal against her back to listen to her lungs. 

He slid it around his neck, blinking as if he’d just realized what she was wearing. “I want to see your ribs. I’ll step out—”

“No,” she said, far too breathlessly as she swept her long hair over to one shoulder. “You can stay.”

She reached around the back of her dress for the zipper but Eris very gently replaced her hand with his own. He tugged the little piece of metal down over her spine before oh so gently pushing the straps off her shoulders. Arina held the front against her breasts, only because they were in his place of work and getting half naked seemed wildly inappropriate. 

His eyes darkened and she wondered if that was how he looked when he crawled between her legs each night. Eris skimmed his fingers over her ribs, pressing lightly. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” she whispered. He swallowed, exhaling a soft breath through his lips before reaching over her to push against her other set.

“And this?”

Arina turned her head to look at him, well aware they were mere inches from each other. They had a date tomorrow night. She ought to leave well enough alone.

His eyes slid to her lips. “It doesn’t hurt,” she breathed, palm pressed against his chest.

He groaned softly, taking that hand and tangling it in her hair for a brutal, yet familiar kiss. Did he really think she couldn’t tell the difference between his persona and real life? That a mask was enough to hide how utterly obvious he was being? Did he think she didn’t notice how he bit her lip, how his tongue was so demanding or how his fingers pushed at the fabric of her dress so he could tease her breasts? All of it was edged in pain.

Exactly the way she liked it.

Arina wondered how Eris liked it. He never let her touch him, even when she’d suggested he keep her blindfolded and fuck her. She was here, now. There was nothing stopping her from taking that hand on his chest and cupping him through his pants.

Eris moaned. “I want—”

“Me, first,” she interrupted, well aware of what he wanted. He did it every night until she was shaking and exhausted. It was her turn, she told herself. Her turn to slide off that exam table and onto the cold, white linoleum beneath her. She tugged at his belt while Eris watched, his eyes wild and dark. 

“Arina—”

“You need to be quiet,” she said, holding his gaze while undoing the button on his slacks. She could see the bulge in his pants and wondered how he’d been taking care of himself. Had he? Had he been using his hand, or was he all pent up? What would he taste like?

“You still have to take me out tomorrow,” she warned him, using the heel of her hand to rub him through his black boxer briefs.

“Whatever you want,” he told her, threading long fingers through her hair. “It’s all planned, but I can fuck—” he exhaled, throwing his head back when she pulled the long, thick length of him from his underwear and, without teasing or preamble, took the blunt, heavy head into her mouth. How much time did she have before a nurse came looking for him? 

This was payback for the nights in her bedroom when he refused to let her touch him. She was well aware Eris could have straddled her chest and shoved his cock into her mouth—she wanted him to. 

She couldn’t fit all of him, though it was clear Eris wanted her to try. Maybe if they were in her bedroom she would have. Tied to her headboard, unable to escape him, Eris could have pushed her nose to his abdomen and made her take all of them. No one would have heard her gag, her protests. 

Here, though, Eris was forced to yield when she pressed her palms against the tops of his thighs and slapped, forcing him to release his grip on her hair. Using one hand to make up the difference and her other to tease and toy with his balls, Arina threw herself into swallowing as much of him as she could silently. The scent of his cologne mingled with the clean taste of his skin and the near silent moans coming from the man above her. He’d braced his body against the counter behind him, though one hand was still using her hair to half fuck her face. 

He was too loud when she tightened her grip on him, teeth gently scraping against his skin. Of course he liked this rough. Of course he liked a little pain. Arina wasn’t gentle, then, nor was she polite. Saliva dragged from each pass of her mouth, her wrist twisting roughly each time she came back up.

Eris was shaking, reaching for her head with his other hand. Their eyes met in a silent question, to which Arina answered by hollowing her cheeks. 

Do it.

He snapped, hips pumping his cock furiously into her throat with just enough restraint to keep him from suffocating her. She wondered if today would mark a new development in their evenings together.

Was it fucked up that she hoped so? 

Eris grunted, pushing further into her throat to finish. Arina widened her jaw to suck down air, eyes closed for the first time to focus on swallowing without choking. He was panting, practically begging, shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure overtook him.

Good.

She felt like the score was better settled between them. 

Breathing as if he’d run a marathon, Eris gripped Arina by the tops of her arms and pulled her off him for a vicious, messy kiss. 

“Spend the night tomorrow,” Eris whispered, thumbs stroking her cheek.

“Why? So you can—”

“Fuck you? Yes, exactly,” he interrupted, eyes flashing. “Nice and slow, all night…no interruptions, nothing keeping me from doing everything I’ve been imagining all week…”

“Does this mean dinner is off?” she asked nervously. She didn’t want to be just a hookup.

He shook his head, kissing her again. “Date is still on.”

“We’ll see how I feel, I guess.”

“And if I insist?” he responded, allowing her to step back and slid the straps of her sundress back over her arms. 

Arina felt mischievous. “Then you’ll have to sneak into my bedroom window and have your wicked way with me, I suppose.”

He betrayed nothing. “Say you will. My place, my bed. I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning. And lunch, too—dinner, even, if you want.”

“You sound desperate,” she teased, her heart racing.

Eris only shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Eight oclock.”

She smiled. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

ERIS: 

Eris had no fucking idea how he managed to get through the rest of his day. He typed clinical notes and saw patients. He drove home and had dinner and talked to his mother on the phone. And the entire time, all he thought about was Arina on her knees, peering up at him through dark lashes as she choked down his cock. It was all he could feel, that wet, warm mouth, her pillowy tongue, her soft throat. He wanted to do it again. Wanted to wrap his hand around her neck and make her take every last inch of him, until her lips were blue and her eyes were glazed.

He thought she wanted that, too. 

He intended to go to her just as soon as he crossed a name off his list. Josh O’Neil was the second roommate who’d helped hold Arina down. Who’d been promised he could take a turn—and who therefore needed to die. 

He’d had a hell of a time tracking Josh down. The police presence had lingered, which was enough to keep Eris away. Something about that place bothered him. He couldn’t put his finger on it—but Josh and Jack were careful. Like they knew it was no self strangulation that had killed their friend, despite how Eris had looped that belt around his neck and left him with his pants around his ankles. 

He was curious. Curious enough to leave Arina to her bed and head out into the night. Back to that apartment where he knew Josh would be. Unlike Arina, who lived in the heart of a good neighborhood filled with people who didn’t pay close enough attention to her, Jack and Josh lived in a rougher neighborhood. A place where people intentionally looked the other way. It had made it easy to slip through a broken lobby door and into the apartment Arina had forced her way out of.

If Eris was young and lacked capital, it was the kind of place he might have chosen, too. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he approached. 

“Truce,” called a voice from an alleyway. Eris turned his head, his vision half obscured by his mask. He could hear shoes crunching on glass, dragging shadows from the dark. There was no streetlight to illuminate them, and when they appeared, Eris supposed he should have guessed.

That was Arina’s luck, to slip from one killer to another.

“How’d you get in?” Jack asked, pushing sandy brown hair off his face. He looked like every other douche bag Eris knew, minus the fresh, still damp blood soaking his shirt. Beside him, Josh stood just a little taller, grinning with amusement. Eris had his knife just behind his back and a gun tucked under his shirt, just in case. 

Eris didn’t respond, cocking his head as he tried to figure out how to best cut Josh’s throat and leave the corpse for Jack to deal with.

“Did we overstep?” Josh added. They didn’t know, then. They were young, still, and likely green. He wondered whose blood they were coated in or why they didn’t care. Sloppy, was what it was.

“Are we on your turf, fucking your whores?”

Eris remained silent.

“Look, we don’t need a war. We brought you a gift,” Jack said, gesturing to the alley behind them. There was no fucking way Eris was stupid enough to go back there. Josh laughed, turning his back without an ounce of fear to march back into the dark. It was the only opportunity Eris was going to get. Lunging, Eris pulled that curved blade from his pocket, and in one easy, fluid motion, brought it screaming across Josh’s neck.

He hit his knees with a loud thud, gasping into the dark. Eyes wild as he turned for his friend, who merely watched with a clinical, almost bored expression on his face. Neither of them moved, though Josh reached for them both, dragging himself against the pavement as if that would save him.

Only when he was still did Jack  turn to Eris. “You’ve done me a favor. They’re sloppy—messy. I’m going to leave your present in the ally so you understand that whatever score you think is between ought to be settled. I would hate for anyone else to get hurt. You understand.” Jack reached into the waistband of his jeans and as casually as he might have pulled out car keys, pulled out a gun. He didn’t point it at Eris—there was no need. He merely stepped over his friend's body, whistling to himself as he made his way home in the dark. Eris watched, hidden in the shadows, until Jack was far out of sight. 

Only then did he dare to creep into the alley.

He was nearly sick. They knew. A woman he didn’t recognize, far older than Arina, lay dead against a brick wall. She’d likely died hours before, though Eris couldn’t tell. He couldn’t stop looking at all that blood stained, blonde hair. A piece of paper was curled in her lifeless fingers—a message clearly written to him.

Eris pried it out, well aware he needed to get the fuck away from all those dead bodies. Clutching it in his fist, he took off, not daring to look back and careful where he stepped. The neighborhood was dangerous—it would look like Josh had left his lover to die in an alleyway, only to meet a coward's fate. 

Eris drove around for an hour, weaving around the city in random, unpredictable patterns in an effort to confuse anyone who might have followed. He never took off his mask—not until he was sure he was alone. Only then, parked in a gas station, did he dare unfurl that blood splattered note.

I always had a thing for blondes. 

Eris exploded in rage. Everything was so fucked. If Jack thought Eris was coming after him, he’d turn around and go right back after Arina. And even if Eris didn’t, Jack still might. The threat would loom for the rest of her life, unaware of the threat that surrounded her.

He willed himself not to care. To walk away from her, to drive back home and not give a fuck if Jack was plotting to end her life. He could go home, eat dinner, and call anyone in his phone to suck his cock. Just like he’d always done. Sh was a distraction.

She was the death of his peace of mind.

Eris took a breath. And then another.

Eyes closed, he reclined in his seat.

She’s nothing. She’s worthless.

She was everything.

He turned the ignition back on, well aware he could not go back to before. That life was over for him—he’d known it the moment he saw her. He needed to see her, to make sure she was okay. He’d wasted too much time tying her up and eating her out when he should have been teaching her how to disembowel someone. 

He couldn’t watch her all day, every day. Though Eris was about to try. He went home, well aware he’d crossed psychopath territory days ago. Who gave a shit at this point if there were cameras in her house? Who cared if he tracked her every fucking movement until Jack was floating in the river? One day she’d be grateful for all this, ideally when he had her sleeping in his bed every single night, but until then, this would suffice.

After all, he wasn’t trying to stop her from going anywhere. Or, that was how Eris rationalized all this. Stalking was usually reserved for prey, and it was short-lived. Eris was in this for the long haul, for better or worse, which meant she could not die. He was unwilling to discover what grief felt like. Arina would live, or they would both die, and those were the only options he was willing to entertain. 

Eris crept into her bedroom like he always did, relieved to find her alive and asleep. She was tucked beneath her blanket, one hand curled beneath her chin. He wanted to go to her, to brush bare knuckles over her still healing cheekbones, and tell her everything was going to be fine.

Instead, Eris set his cameras up to face every point of entry in her apartment, concealing them so she wouldn’t notice—not immediately, anyway. Maybe one day if she ever deep cleaned, which Eris doubted. He’d picked up the night before and again as he moved through her place, replacing her shoes by the door and putting her dirty laundry in the hamper. 

He was tempted to do her dishes, too—maybe another night. This night couldn’t be soft. He needed to make her sharp, at least around the edges. Tomorrow she’d be in his bed, and the next night, too, if he could get away with it. Eris had no idea what sort of timeline people who typically dated adhered to, but he knew his brother and Elain still weren’t living together and they’d been dating for a solid year.

Eris needed things to move a little faster. A degenerate like Jack wouldn’t be able to get past his doorman.

A month? 

He was still chewing that thought when he went to her in her bedroom. Eris pulled the blankets from her body, forgetting she’d been sleeping naked to keep him from cutting apart anymore pajamas. She was so absurdly pretty, with a body that made him irrational. He’d nearly thrown away a medical career that very afternoon when she’d gotten on her knees to suck his cock and he’d had to fight every urge in his body not to fuck her up against the door. 

She stirred, peaking open an eye. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Arina hadn’t been afraid since that first night, because Arina was strong. Because she was like him, even if she didn’t realize it. 

“I was starting to think you’d forgotten,” she whispered.

“There’s no forgetting you,” he replied, staring at that little strip of blonde hair over her pussy. He wanted to fuck her so badly it was making him stupid.

Tomorrow. You’ll be inside her tomorrow.

“Get dressed,” he added, forcing himself to look away.

“Why?”

“Where is your knife?”

There was a pause. “Why?”

He sighed, irritated that she still thought there was any possibility he was going to harm her. “You need to know how to use it.”

“Oh.”

“Do you really think—” he cut himself off when he realized she was standing, holding a little blue top between slim fingers. Those fucking legs. Even the mask couldn’t hide his reaction given he immediately looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to keep himself from falling to his knees. 

Had he ever been good at this? He was starting to think he hadn’t. Eris had to turn to keep himself from leaping on her, his cock roaring to life. He hadn’t forgotten that blowjob, after all. “I’m not going to kill you,” he ground out, willing himself to calm the fuck down. He counted to ten, assuming that was enough time for her to dress before he turned back around. She was bent over her pillow, fishing out that knife and Eris was aching and hot all over again. 

“Ready?” she asked innocently.

Not in a million fucking years.

“Let's begin.”

ARINA:

Arina rubbed her eyes, crossing her legs again. Eris had kept her up most of the night running her through drills without telling her why it was suddenly so important she learn how to stab. She much preferred the night he went down on her. Arina was in her living room, dressed in a red slip dress and heels. The time shone 7:59 on the stove which made Arina antsy. He wasn’t coming. 

She didn’t know why she thought that—only that it was still possible she was wrong about him and blowing him in his office had scared him off. Arina had to be careful when it came to men—give them what they wanted too early and they stopped trying.

Not soon enough and they didn’t try at all.

The clock shifted to eight and a soft knock graced the door. Arina exhaled a breath. Arina went to him, drinking in the rich, familiar scent of his cologne. Eris looked incredible, tall and muscular in inky black trousers and a matching black shirt. He reached for her, arm around her back to pull her into him for a soft, passionate kiss.

“Sorry,” he murmured, not looking sorry at all. Arina decided not to mention her lipstick had smeared over his mouth. It looked…well, it looked a little like blood. What did it say that she sort of liked that? 

“Missed you, too,” she said with a smile. “I’m glad you came.”

“This is all I’ve thought about,” he admitted, looking past her at the overnight bag she’d packed. “All ready to go?”

Eris was smooth, swapping their positions so she stood on the porch and he was striding into her apartment for the bag. Arina tried so hard to smother the smile on her face—failing when he slung the floral straps over his shoulders with a sultry expression. 

Arina nodded before asking, “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Dinner,” he said, closing the door behind her. “And something else I think you’ll like—not my cock, don’t look at me like that—ice cream after, if you want. Or my cock, if—”

Arina smacked him lightly on the arm. “It was one blow job, Eris.”

He yanked open the passenger side for her, clearly working for the sex he expected to happen later that evening. “Forgive me for wanting many, many more.”

“Is that all it takes?” she all but laughed, folding herself into the familiar leather interior. Eris snapped the door shut, tossed her bag in the trunk, and joined her in the car. 

Eris glanced over, smug and pleased in equal measure. “It doesn’t hurt, that’s for sure.”

Arina was grinning the entire way to the expensive restaurant Eris had picked out. There was no lull in the conversation and though it was easily the nicest place Arina had ever eaten in, Eris didn’t make it weird. He didn’t do that thing where, when pulling out his card to pay, he looked over at her so she knew it had been expensive and he expected to be repaid in some way.

Arina was doubting herself by the time they reached the theater. Eris was so pleased with himself to have secured ballet tickets on such short notice. He was witty, he was well-dressed and elegant and charming.

Was he also the kind of man who could strangle someone to death? 

She’d snoop, she decided once they were seated in the dark. He had to sleep eventually, and once he did, she’d go through his things and prove he was the man creeping through her window each night.

Arina prayed he was, at any rate, because she didn’t think Ghost was going to be cool with another man. And if she was being perfectly honest, she much preferred Eris, who’d put his hand on her thigh and was rubbing lazy circles over her skin while he watched the show. She’d take the doctor if his hobby’s skewed toward vigilante justice.

But no one else.

That was a dangerous thought, given she just barely knew Eris to begin with. It was too soon to say she liked him enough to excuse a multitude of felonies and yet standing in the elevator of his building, his fingers brushing the back of her hand while Arina explained all the things she was sure he’d missed, she didn’t care. She hadn’t cared last night when he’d been barking orders at her through that stupid Halloween mask and she didn’t care when he led her into his absurdly large penthouse, swaggering like a man with a big dick he knew was going to be wet soon enough.

Eris took her bag straight to his bedroom. “Just in case you think I’m the sort of gentleman who’d offer you a guest room,” he told her, eyes flashing. Eris’s bedroom was immaculate, with a wall of glass overlooking the city. His bed was large and draped in black silks and cream cotton, the headboard framed by the glass. She imagined he woke up each morning bathed in golden light and found herself jealous of such a small opulence.

Two nightstands on either side of his bed held little lamps, a book…and a knife. “Afraid of being attacked in your sleep?” she teased, walking toward it. Eris didn’t stop her, fingertips pressed into the wood at the top of the door frame as he leaned his large, tall body against it.

“You never know,” he murmured, his easy expression slipping into something more intense. Arina unsheathed it from the leather, inhaling a sharp breath. Was he even trying to hide it, then? It was an identical match to her own blade, curved and impossibly sharp.

Eris’s smile was edged, eyes watching her with open amusement. Did he want her to guess? Or was this part of the fun? Arina slid it back into the holster, mind racing.

“I suppose a doctor would be good with a knife,” she said lightly.

“Very good,” he all but purred, pushing off the frame to come to her. “Though, I think I’m more skilled with my hands.”

She shivered—not from fear, but want. He was prowling toward her, every inch of him wholly focused on her. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” he murmured, taking the handle from her fingers and tossing it with a clunk back to the bedside table. “Or anything but me.”

“I should be worried about you?” she whispered, looking up into his amber eyes. They seemed to burn, were all but living flame.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted as one hand cupped the back of her head. He pulled her closer, eyes slipping to her mouth.

“And if I’m not?” she replied. 

He smiled slightly. “Even better for me.”

Kissing him was just as good as she remembered. Better, even, with that mask partially pulled back. Eris wasn’t pretending, though he wasn’t openly admitting what he was, either. Arina reached for him, twining her arms around his neck to drag him closer. She’d meant to force him to watch a movie, to work for the right to unzip her dress.

Eris backed her toward the bed, tongue invading her mouth like having her was his mandate, a directive from the gods themselves. He groaned softly, pressing them both into the mattress. 

“What’s your rush—” She tried to slow him down, but Eris was a man possessed. He swallowed the rest of her words, reaching for her thigh to hitch around his waist. Grinding himself against her ended Arina’s weak protests. She’d forgotten the size of him, forgotten how it had felt to have him in her mouth, her hand. 

She wanted to know what it would feel like to have him in her body, bad enough that she arched into him, tugging at his perfect hair until she’d thoroughly unmade him. She had the sense that Eris’s sleek, unbothered exterior was merely another mask for whatever writhing creature lay just beneath the surface. How many people got to see him like this? How many had he let in?

Eris reared up, thighs bracketing her body as he began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I can’t stop thinking about yesterday,” he told her, his chest rising and falling. “About your mouth—fuck—” She’d propped herself up on her elbows to watch him undress. Tall, lean, and still well-muscled, Eris Vanserra was a fucking dream. Exactly her type, she thought as he shoved that nice shirt off his frame and tossed it to the floor. Not so tidy after all, she thought with a smile.

“What’s that for?” he asked gruffly, eyes searching her face. His cheeks had warmed, highlighting the smattering of freckles dusting his nose.

“You,” she breathed, running her palm over his stomach. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful,” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing. Arina was given no opportunity to insist she was right or even offer up another compliment. Eris was back on her, kissing her like a desperate, wild man. This was what had been missing from their nights together, she thought. Eris was rough and yet kind, his hands palming her through her dress to edge the pleasure he offered with the sweetest touch of pain.

She could meet him. Arina ranked her nails down his bare back, sharp enough to all but draw blood. Eris groaned, grinding his cock against her body. 

“Is that what you like, Eris?” she whispered, hooking her leg against his waist. He responded with a nip to her bottom lip. Arina wanted to see all of him. Reaching for his belt, she meant to fully undress him so she could take him back into her mouth before she rode him into oblivion. She wasn’t tied up this time, and to Arina, that meant she had control.

He had to do what she said, what she wanted. 

Eris was quicker, flipping her to her stomach so he could unzip her dress and push it off her body. Eris wrapped the long strands of her hair around his wrist and pulled, arching her back up off the bed.

“There she is,” he whispered, letting Arina shove the dress down to her knees. No bra, which he must have realized in the theater given how cold she was. She had worn a lacy red thong, which Eris snapped like a thirteen year old boy, chuckling to himself when her head snapped to look over her shoulder. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you in my brother's apartment,” he whispered, rubbing his hand over her ass cheek. “I wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you so hard the whole building complained.”

“Eris,” she whispered, wiggling her hips while he maneuvered the scrap of lace off her body. She was utterly naked, pushed up on her knees and elbows. Eris’s eyes were glazed over, drinking in the sight of her. In any other circumstances, Arina would have felt self-conscious about being so on display.

Eris made her seem like something sexy, something he’d been waiting on his entire life. She knew he’d seen her naked before, but this was different. Arina pulled her hair from his grasp, yanking the strands from her scalp. She knew what he wanted—to fuck her from behind, until she was all but suffocating into a pillow.

She wanted control. This first time, Arina wanted to decide when and how he came. 

“On your knees, Eris,” she whispered, holding his haze. He cocked his head, sitting on his haunches, and for a moment she thought he’d say no. 

“I’m putting my face in that pussy,” he informed her, a lazy smile on his face.

“Then you’ll do it on your back,” she declared, anticipation building in her chest. He didn’t stop her as she trailed her fingers down his chest or when she reached for his belt buckle. In fact, Eris remained still until both his pants and his underwear were down by his knees, waiting to join her clothes on the floor.

“Is this what you want, then?” he asked, his thick, long cock jutting from between her legs. Arina scooted closer until the tip of him was bruised against her stomach.

“Maybe I’d like to tie you up,” she whispered, holding his gaze. Eris’s eyes flashed—not with fear, but excitement. Grabbing her by the back of her neck, Eris kissed her roughly, teasing her breasts with his other hand. Was she being obvious enough?

I know and I don’t care.

Pulling her hair to arch her neck, Eris pressed a sucking kiss to the hollow of her neck. “Do whatever you like with me.”

She was quick, pushing him to the bed before he could change his mind. “How does it feel?” she asked him, raking her nails up and down his bare chest as she swung her leg over his body. Eris’s eyes were wholly dark, watching her with interest. 

He responded by grabbing her by the hips and yanking her up to his face. “Feels fucking fantastic,” he replied, kissing one thigh, and then the other. It hadn’t occurred to her that Eris would still get what he wanted even if she was on top.

Not until he pulled her against his face so it was him suffocating. Arina pitched forward, gripping the dark wood headboard to keep herself from falling off him. With her eyes shut, she was practically back in her bedroom. He wasn’t even trying to hide who he was. The only difference was this time, Arina could ride him the way she often wanted and was prevented by his hands. Eris was forever holding her still so he could lick the way he wanted, keeping her just at the edge for as long as he deemed appropriate—sending her flying over the edge when he tired of teasing. 

Not that Eris didn’t try. There would be bruises on her hips from how tight he held her, trying to still her so he could prolong fucking her with his tongue. Anytime Arina got too loud or traded her hold on the headboard for his hair, Eris would move his tongue down her body, denying her the release she wanted so badly.

It was driving her insane. He was driving her insane.

“You can end this, pretty girl,” he panted, stopping entirely when Arina let out a frustrated growl. “Beg me to let you come.”

“Eris,” she replied, pushing his face back into her. He chuckled darkly, sucking her clit between his lips as she began to ride his face again. He was clever, his tongue gliding over her in just the perfect rhythm, building her up just until she was right there—and then he moved, jerking his head to deny her what she wanted. No matter how vicious she was with his hair, Eris always managed to evade her.

He was going to make her beg.

Arina was dying, throbbing from unmet need. Every inch of her was wound tighter than a bow string.

“Eris,” she gasped, hating how his tongue slowed, tracing lazy circles around her clit. He hummed out a response. Arina whined, hips jerking desperately. “Please.”

His tongue was no faster. Waiting.

“Please let me come.”

He groaned, gripping her by the thighs again. Arina rolled her hips, his tongue rising to meet her. This. This was what she needed. Eris sucked and licked as excitement built through Arina, gathering like molten heat just at the base of her spine. This time, when she hung over that edge, Eris kept going until she came. He let her ride his face like she was a wild, desperate animal, his arms shaking with the effort it took to keep himself flat on his back. Arina couldn’t breathe, was hot and tight and alive for maybe the first time in her life. 

She knew what he would try and do next. Arina was quick and Eris was needy. She swung off his face, pulling herself roughly from his grasp.

“Not this time,” she breathed, grabbing him by the chin for a kiss. Eris groaned again, arching into her hand when she reached for that thick cock. She stroked and kissed, chasing the taste of her release until she’d come down just enough. She wanted him to feel the aftershocks, to know what was waiting for him if he let go. 

Eris reached for her and Arina swatted, still holding his cock as she straddled his hips. “First time belongs to me,” she said, rising up on her knees to tease the thick head of him over her soaked pussy. 

“And the next time?” he grunted, neck arching with pleasure. 

“I’ll do whatever you say,” she whispered, sinking herself down on him. Eris was loud, which surprised her, groaning as she took each bruising inch of him. His hips bucked, driving himself deeper and drawing a loud gasp from Arina who was trying so hard to adjust to the stretch of him.

Eris watched her, eyes half lidded. He was struck dumb for the moment but if he realized she was struggling to accommodate him, he’d take over. Arina rocked herself against him, squeezed so tight she could barely breathe.

“Fuck, sunshine,” he panted, merging his two personas without meaning to. Digging her nails into his chest, Arina kept going, if only to hear him make more of those sounds. Moaning and heaving, all the while watching her. Eris’s legs parted behind her, as if spreading them wider somehow heightened his pleasure. 

Arina wanted to see him come apart. It took her a moment to figure out a rhythm that didn’t immediately exhaust her, using his body for leverage as she began to slide herself up and down his cock. 

“You’re so fucking tight, I can’t—” Eris reached for her nipples, teasing him in his fingers until Arina was whining. Release built all over again, too fast too uncontrolled. She wanted to drag them both out. She swore she’d come again, that she’d slow down to really enjoy him. Arina came with a soft scream, flattening against him to rub herself along the length of his body. Eris was wild beneath her, meeting her thrust for thrust as he grunted indiscriminate curses into her ear. 

Arina sunk her teeth hard into his shoulder, biting down the scream that rose in her body. That was, apparently, the magic button to set off Eris. He came like a bomb, flipping her over with his thighs so he could grab her by the throat in one hand, her wrists pinned above her head.

He was vicious, riding out both his and her orgasm with punishing thrusts. There was no finesse to it—it was as if he merely needed to drive himself as far into her as he could. 

Eris was covered in a slick sheen of sweat when he finally stopped, wild-eyed and burning. He released her throat, but didn’t pull himself out of her.

“Again,” he whispered, kissing just behind her ear. “Right now.”

“Right now,” she agreed, still tight around him. 

“You’re mine,” he added, as if there was ever any doubt.

Arina merely kissed him in response. 

ERIS:

Eris knew he was better served spending his night between Arina’s thighs. He knew better than to roam the streets at night when she was asleep, and consoled himself with the knowledge that she was in his bed, at least.  He’d had her two months as of that day–which Eris had celebrated by keeping her naked and on her back for the majority of the day.

And yet the lingering problem of Jack kept him up at night. He didn’t trust that the man wouldn’t get curious about the woman who’d thwarted him and come looking. That he, too, would become enamored with whatever charm Arina possessed that kept Eris so thoroughly enraptured. And when he realized Arina wanted Eris, what then? 

He needed to die. 

Eris couldn’t lay his feelings at Arina’s feet knowing there was another predator out there. And he was too chicken shit to admit he was the man in the mask, even if he was mostly sure she’d pieced that one together, too. 

She’d be back in her apartment tomorrow, and Eris had an overnight scheduled in the emergency room. He needed to know she was safe. That thought drove him back into the shitty part of the city, back down those unlit streets and the sidewalk where he could see the faint smear of blood from his kill two months before. 

He was quick, slipping into Jack’s apartment without being detected. He could hear Jack moving around the back, unaware death was coming for him. Anticipation warmed Eris, pushing him down the hall toward that door—where Jack was waiting.

“Dumb mother fucker,” Jack snarled, shoving open the door just as Eris unsheathed his knife. Eris lunged, knocking Jack to the floor while still gripping his knife. “Now I’m gonna fucking kill her—and I’m gonna let you watch.”

Eris snarled, messy and stupid. He wasn’t thinking straight, had forgotten how to best incapacitate someone who was struggling. He was too blinded by his emotions, which gave Jack an edge. Eris felt white hot pain lance through his side and realized he’d been stabbed. 

His own blade came up over Jack’s face, slicing over the man’s rather plain face before he rolled to the side. Both them were bleeding, staring at the other like wounded animals.

“You come near her,” Eris breathed, panting through his mask as he stepped back toward the door. “And I’ll have your head.”

“You’re gonna watch her die,” Jack breathed. The wound was deep—he’d need stitches. Eris would be working in the hospital tomorrow, which he imagined would be about the time Jack would need to hobble in for help.

Accidents happened every day. Who would miss a fucking lowlife loser? He could make it look like infection, like sepsis had worked its way into his bloodstream and then quietly kill him. A long, drawn out, painful death.

“We’ll see,” Eris replied before staggering out. Laughter followed him down the hall and out into the cool, near wintry air. He couldn’t go home to her—not bleeding like this. She was safe he told himself, loping down the sidewalk toward his car hidden a couple blocks away.

Stupid—he was so fucking stupid. He was too scared, too caught up in Arina that he wasn’t thinking logically. He’d gotten hurt. She’d see the wound the next time he undressed in front of her and then what? What would he tell her?

“I was jumped.”

He said it with a rueful smile when he made his way into his own emergency room, shirt lifted to show the clean cut. 

“You’re lucky,” Rhysand murmured, cocking his head to the side as he assessed Eris. Eris had left his mask, his gloves, and his vest in the car so it seemed like he’d merely been out, dressed in black. “A little further and they’d have nicked a kidney.”

Eris only sighed. Lucky. 

He didn’t feel fucking lucky with only a local anesthetic and Rhysand’s clumsy movements. Eris was a terrible patient, like all doctors, annoyed that Rhys didn’t do things how he would and at the orders to keep still—to wait, when Rhys was done, for worthless observation. He knew the signs of infection, and the signs of lightheadedness, too. 

“If a guy with a cut down his face comes in,” Eris began, drawing his thumb over his eye to illustrate where the wound would be, “can you call me?”

Rhysand chuckled. “Are you thinking about payback?”

He had no idea. “I’d like to see the look on his face when I walk in to treat him,” Eris replied with a savage grin. 

“That’s fucked,” Rhys replied with a smile. “And so fucking funny. Yeah, if I see a guy with a cut down his face, I’ll give you a call.”

And that was that. Eris was sent home with a little pain medication he didn’t bother filling and a sense of unease. He’d have to just tell her. Tell Arina how he’d fucked it all up, that he’d put her right back in danger.

He’d have to tell her who he was. There was no way around it anymore. No more waiting. Eris’s stomach churned the whole drive back to his apartment. He couldn’t stop himself from playing out every worst case scenario. Couldn’t stop imagining Arina demanding he let her go.

Breaking up with him.

How he’d have to tie her to the bed with those burning eyes once so filled with want, now filled with hate. Keep her there until she softened, until she understood that he loved her.

Eris groaned, head against the seat after parking in the garage. He was so fucking stupid.

He was in love with her.

Sighing, he made his way toward the elevator that would take him to the lobby. Unease pricked at the back of his neck. Eris swore he was being watched. He turned his head, but nothing was out of place. He was extra paranoid, or that was what he told himself. Eris moved quickly, stepping into the lobby as dread flooded through him.

If he were Jack, how much would he have tried to learn about another killer in the same city? Eris knew everything there was to know about Jack—divorced parents, shitty state school he flunked out of, car salesman to pay the bills. It hadn’t been hard to track down an address, grades, hell even a fucking credit score. 

And as he stepped into his apartment, he considered what Jack might have learned about him. A dead father and a mother living on the west coast. A brother in law while Eris was…a doctor. Someone who could step into an emergency room to be stitched up in a place that, even with connections, still liked to waste time.

Every light in the apartment was off. He couldn’t recall if he’d done that himself, though Arina hated it. She’d sleep in total darkness if he was there, but when he was gone he turned on a lamp. And he swore, as he opened the closed door to his bedroom, that he’d done that for her. 

Rage was building in his chest as he flipped on the light. The sheets to his bed were tangled around the end of the bed, half dragged to the floor. Blood dotted his sheets. Not enough to speak of death, but enough to make his hands shake.

There had been a fight. He could see it in the overturned chair, the lamp broken against a wall. Several pairs of his shoes were scattered about the floor and a picture frame on the wall hung askew. He could track her movement—she’d run to the bathroom and tried to lock herself in. Clever thing, he thought, pulling back the pillow Arina always slept on. The one she still kept her knife beneath.

Just in case.

It was missing. A burst of affection slammed through him. She wasn’t unarmed, then. Eris turned for his closet, where he kept an array of tools. A gun, which he loathed. He much preferred to be up close and personal when he killed. For whatever it said about him—and he wasn’t willing to examine it—-he liked seeing the light leave a person’s eyes. 

A note lay just at his feet. Jack's calling card, he knew as he picked it up with trembling fingers. Blood, smudged in the shape of a fingerprint covered the words.

Do blondes have more fun? 

Eris was going to kill him. He was going to fucking kill him. Flexing his fingers around the piece of metal, Eris turned back to look at the blood. Little drops—like she’d been struck unaware. Likely when she was sleeping, as if one blow was enough to knock a person out. Jack was stupid, and real life wasn’t like the movies. It would take a hell of a lot more to bring Arina down.

And still Eris counted them up quickly. He’d punish Jack for each one. Each little hurt. 

As he made his way back into the inky night, he reminded himself that she’d already bested him once. 

She would do it again.

ARINA:

All the things she’d ever learned about being kidnapped were lies. Tied up in the back of a trunk with a bruised, throbbing head, she’d managed to kick out the taillight with her barefoot. It cut up her skin in the process, and ultimately did nothing given no one stopped. No one called the police. Jack kept driving, slamming the breaks just often enough to slam her around.

She needed to focus. She had Eris’s knife tucked into the waistband of her shorts and would have to be careful to keep Jack from noticing. This, she understood, was only partly about her. She’d escaped and had the sense that he was angry about it, but beyond that, he was baiting Eris.

The fresh cut on his face, inflamed and swollen, told her why.

No matter what Jack said about Eris bleeding out in an alley, she knew if he was alive, he was on his way. That, for whatever flaws he had, he would come if only to keep someone else from touching her.

Though, she had been certain that night when she’d fallen asleep wrapped around him, that he was in love with her. 

And more certain that she was in love with him.

Stalking murderer and all. 

All she had to do was keep her wits about her. Jack wasn’t particularly smart, she reasoned. She’d escaped him once before. He thought little of her. This fight was clearly between him and Eris. So Arina settled and waited for the car to stop. Her hands were bound in front of her which she used to hold the knife still when he opened the lid and yanked her out. 

She limped over broken pavement, inhaling the rotting stench of fish. He’d taken her to the docks which didn’t bode well for her. If he threw her into the water bound, there was a decent chance she’d drown in the river. Not that he was thinking that far ahead—yet. 

“What happened to your face?” Arina asked as they made their way toward one of the corrugated metal buildings. She knew exactly what had happened, but wanted to get him talking. Wanted to focus him on his actual objective before he looked at her too closely and decided she’d be fun to play with in the interim. 

He exhaled noisily. Overhead, a street lamp flickered on and off, giving the area a truly sinister vibe. It was too cold to be out in the thin shirt and shorts she wore, and Arina was grateful she’d put anything on that night. She typically slept naked in Eris’s bed, especially after he fucked her into the mattress. She’d woken a little before Jack arrived to find him gone and had dressed so she could go to the bathroom. 

Jack pushed her through a swinging, heavy door, shoving so hard she nearly toppled to the ground.

“Sit,” he barked, nodding toward a beam in the middle of the space. There were no rooms, no enclosed spaces save for one bathroom that hardly looked sturdy. Rust ate at the concrete below her bruised, cut feet and a window on the side overlooking the river had been blown out by a storm. 

Storage containers and old tools lay scattered along a wobbly table, long abandoned by whoever had once worked here. Arina carefully folded herself to the ground, resting the back of her head against the steel support holding up a tin roof. 

Jack paced back and forth, his white sneaker splattered with blood. One side of his face was viciously swollen and, Arina supposed, had to hurt badly. Eris had cut him deeply. She wondered if it was better to continue to play stupid—to pretend this was all a continuation of those two bad dates.

“Please,” she began, her throat coated in sand. “I won’t tell anyone—”

“Shut up,” he barked, head turning toward the door. He pulled a gun from his loose fitting jeans, cagey and nervous. “You’ll do whatever I say if you want a clean death.”

Her hands out of sight, Arina carefully edged the hidden blade to her back. Jack wasn’t watching her, didn’t think anything of her. Heart pounding, Arina managed to get the knife into her tied hands without him realizing anything was amiss. She looked, she though, merely like she was struggling.

Would Eris be proud she wasn’t crying? That she was being rational, level-headed? 

Where was he? 

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, stilling when he turned to look at her. Jack assessed her with new eyes before turning back to his watch. Arina didn’t let herself relax, never dropping her guard even as she began to saw at the roughly tied rope. 

“It’s not personal,” Jack finally ground out. “You were merely convenient.”

She had to swallow the bile that rose in her throat. No crying, no vomiting, she told herself. All of that would happen in the aftermath. 

“I told him to stay away,” Jack added. “Warned him what I’d do if he didn’t let it go. He can’t, though. He’s like me. It’s the thrill of the chase, of hunting. I knew he’d come looking. Dr. Vanserra.”

And there it was. Confirmation, just like she’d always known. 

While Jack continued his vigil, Arina managed to make headway on her bindings. 

“Why you?” he asked, glancing toward her for a moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “Eris is a doctor, he works long hours.”

“He’s a killer,” Jack said with a relish, baring his teeth. “So noble, Dr. Vanserra. He prefers the wealthy, the elite. Men,” Jack added with a wolfish grin. “I’m sure he styles himself as the protector of the innocent, but deep down he’s no better than me.”

With one final pull of the knife, Arina’s bindings came undone. She gripped them in her hand too keep him from hearing the thud of the rope. 

“How long,” Jack had turned his back to the door as he faced that dark bathroom, “before he learns what we all figure out?”

“What's that?” she whispered, wondering how she was going to escape. The knife in her hand felt damning, weighty. 

“You are nothing but a novelty. Something fun until you’re not—until the hunger is too overwhelming and your presence too inconvenient? Men like us don’t love. We only consume.”

The sound of boots echoed around them. Crunching glass, a skittering rock—a warning. Jack was grinning like Christmas had come early but Arina was shallow breathing.

A door somewhere out of sight kicked open and then there he was. In the mask, in all black, swinging a heavy, metal baseball bat and whistling a children’s tune. 

How had he found her? Scratch that, she decided. She didn’t care. She only cared he was here, radiating dangerous, violent energy. It also took all the attention from her. Jack stepped forward, his back fully to her though Arina sensed Eris was watching only her. 

“Aw, take off the mask, doctor,” Jack sneered. Arina had turned, pulling her hands apart carefully so Eris could see. He cocked his head toward the door, a silent order to get out.

She shook her head no.

I’m not leaving you. 

“Show her who you really are.”

Arina watched that gloved hand reach for the mask—and the other for the gun in his back pocket. He dropped the bat with a clatter to the floor, quick as a flash. Eris was fast, pulling the trigger, but Jack was prepared. He laughed as the bullet grazed him, firing his own shot that hit Eris in the thigh. Eris groaned, slamming to his knees while Arina screamed. 

“Still?!” Jack demanded, striding to Eris. “After everything, you still won’t speak? Explain her to me, doctor! Explain your fascination!”

Jack ripped off the mask, revealing a furious Eris burning with hatred. Panting from the pain, looking at her with nothing but steel. Waiting, she realized. 

Jack was going to kill Eris. It prompted Arina to her feet, to walk toward the pair of them even as Eris’s expression shifted, silently pleading for her to go. 

“I was going to make you watch her die,” Jack said, fingers threaded roughly in Eris’s hair. “But there’s poetry in dying knowing I’m going to fuck your girl. I’m going to fuck every hole right next to your—”

“Don’t,” Eris begged. Jack laughed before the sound choked in his lungs. Arina had driven her knife into his side, twisting enough that Jack groaned in pain. Ripping the blade from his flesh, she thought it was all so odd. Like sliding a knife into a cooked turkey, cutting through tendon and hitting bone.

Jack brought his gun to Arina’s chest and with an inhuman roar, Eris lunged himself at Jack. This was personal, not just to Eris, but to Arina, too. She followed them both to the floor, kneeling over Jack’s head while Eris kept him pinned.

“Tell me what to do,” she demanded, looking at Eris.”How do I end this.”

It was like Jack wasn’t there, as Eris reached for her hand.

“Right here,” he said, pressing the tip of Arina’s knife against Jack’s neck. “Push, sunshine. Perfect.”

The blade slid like butter through his skin, drawing a fountain of blood that sprayed her in the face. Jack’s eyes were wide as saucers and filled with fear, just as she must have once been. He’d enjoyed that—would have killed her, had she not escaped.

“How do you like it?” she asked him, watching the panic on his expression. 

“Arina,” Eris murmured, pulling her back. Neither of them moved, sitting on that filthy floor silently. Witnesses to Jack’s final moments, of his gasping, wet breaths and the rattling groan before silence filled the air. 

“I would have…” Eris tried, taking her face in his hands so she had to look at her. “I didn’t…This wasn’t how you were supposed to find out.”

“I’ve known,” she replied. “Since you tied me up.”

He licked his lips nervously. “Oh.”

“I don’t care,” she added, catching the relief that flooded through him. “I love you.”

He pulled her closer, wincing in obvious pain. They needed to leave before they were caught beside a dead body. “I am not a good man,” he told her, silencing her with a look when she opened her mouth to protest. “I’ll never be a good man. This is who I’ll always be. But, fuck, Arina, I swear I’ll be good to you. Good for you.”

“I know,” she agreed, pressing a bloody kiss to his mouth. “I know you will.”

“I do love you,” he added, threading his fingers through her hair to kiss her deeper. Chasing the taste of copper and salt on her lips, on his own desperation. Arina let him before helping him to his feet. There were practical concerns—how had she become this creature? While Eris limped to the sidewalk, Arina went back inside with a can of gasoline she’d pulled out of a nearby warehouse. Arina felt nothing at all, pouring gas over the pools of Eris’s blood, Jack’s body, and every other surface she could find. She merely wanted to hide their presence—she didn’t care about anything else. 

Eris was in the car when she returned, the flames of her former life illuminating her back. “Ready?” he murmured, wincing as he held his leg. He’d need to see someone about that injury.

Sitting in his driver seat, Arina leaned over and placed a kiss to his jaw.

“Ready.”

Eris:

One year later:

“My brother says he fell in love with Arina the moment he saw her.”

Lucien’s words lingered in Eris’s mind as he tugged at his tie. As far as speeches went, Lucien had done a perfect job hitting all the emotional notes Eris had always struggled with. Elain had been even better, bringing his new wife to weepy tears as she listened to the heartfelt words spoken to their family and friends. 

The same wife with her head on his shoulder, eyes closed after a long day of smiling and dancing and generally being on. That was her talent, he thought. Making him seem more charming by comparison, smoothing out his sharper edges, his tendencies to stare a little too long, to speak a little too dryly. If people liked him, that was Arina’s influence. 

Eris leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Did I wear you out?” he asked, catching the way those pink lips curved into a smile.

“Just preparing myself for what's coming.”

“A nap is what’s coming,” Eris joked, though there was truth to those words. He’d had a little too much to drink and was drained from all the time spent socializing. “And then some fucking….at three am.”

Arina reached for his thigh, rubbing high enough to excite him. “Three am?”

It was already one in the morning. 

“Maybe four,” he conceded, well aware he was likely to get stabbed if he woke her too early.

“And our flight?” she pressed as the car they were in slowed to a stop.

 Door opened just as Eris said, “There’s always time.”

“Maybe in the bathroom?”

As if Eris wouldn’t have the whole plane to himself. She didn’t understand that, was still getting used to spending his money however she liked. “Especially in the bathroom,” he said instead, sliding an arm around her waist. They were ushered up into the suite he’d booked for the night. He’d had different, filthier plans when he’d first seen it—of fucking her on every possible surface. Until she was bowlegged as she made her way through the airport. 

Now, standing in the spacious bedroom, Eris chugged a cold bottle of water while Arina flopped onto a white duvet scattered with rose petals.

It looked rather like blood. 

“Well, Mr Vanserra,” she began, holding up her hand to look at both the diamond cut ruby and matching band on her ring fingers. “Have you finally gotten what you wanted?”

He ran his thumb over the cool, matching metal on his own finger. “It worked out better than I imagined,” he admitted. That was true. Arina had never participated in another of his kills, though she also was more than willing to bandage up any scrapes or bruises he had—and to lovingly remove the bloodstains from his clothes. 

“Oh? How so?”

“I didn’t have to tie you to my bed until you fell in love with both me and my cock,” he said, prowling toward her. Arina shot up, still in that ivory gown he was so fond of, and dragged him to the bed. She was giggling as he fell beside her, pulling him close until his head was pillowed against her breasts. Little beads bit into his cheek, though he didn’t care. Eris buried his nose in her skin, drinking in the soft smell of her. 

“You’re a silly man, Eris Vanserra.”

“Only for you,” he murmured, lacing his fingers through her own before pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

“I don’t care about anyone else,” she admitted.

Eris grinned. “As you shouldn’t. I belong wholly to you.”

#murder daddy is back #couples who commit felonies together stay together #arina really said ALL IN

[star2fishmeg]

FUCK!!! Your high&low writing is making me want more!!! please I beg of you will you make more but with some good good kinky shit in it because DAMN THIS IS HOT!!!

Stress Relief (m)

Pairing: Murayama Yoshiki x f!reader

Summary: sometimes being a leader gets stressful, and reader's always willing to help relieve that for him.

Warnings: 18+ smut, blowjobs, praise kink, pet names (princess, baby, pretty boy, pretty baby), swearing, mentioned voyeurism

Authors note: kinda short but I really hope I didn't disappoint😭 felt like it was time to release this after being so doubtful about it :) my horny arse is learning how to transfer thoughts into words okay. ALSO thinking of a Murayama tag list so let me know thoughts on that and if you wanna be added :D

Requested by: above! There was another but I lost it I'm so sorry!

_________________________________________

It was no secret that Oya High was a pain in the arse to cope with. Peace was never an option unless you searched thoroughly on the rooftops. These busy days were the days Murayama was disturbed the most, and there was nothing he hated more than being constantly disturbed while violently horny. It wasn't like he could just toss one off casually, no. He also couldn't rail his girlfriend in the base without an audience either. He tried that before. He had y/n bent over his sofa, jeans pooling at her ankles while he messily pounded his dick into her cunt, both parties repressing their moans for a private viewing. Another time he'd subbed out to feel her ride him before a SWORD fight, enjoying the fact that he was engulfed in her pulsing walls. But both times had an audience outside trying to listen to some free porn. So sitting, gritting his teeth and blatantly tuning out everything was his only option. Until Todoroki turned up, declaring yet another fight (in which he would lose...again...for the nth time).

By that point he stood up and left for the shitty door, groaning in frustration as it was far too late to deal with that kind of request.

"Running away? That's so unlike you, king." Todoroki sneered with a smirk.

Murayama scoffed, "No. I'm going to fuck my girlfriend into next week, something you obviously haven't experienced yet as you're still bothering me." He really didn't care about the reaction nor what people would say but he heard laughter erupt from behind him. He just wanted relief, and soon.

______

Storming through the door with a force which almost took the hinges off, Murayama threw his jacket and headband onto the sofa, throwing himself onto the cushions next to her too. Letting his head drop back momentarily, he took a deep exhale, eyeing the pretty face watching TV.

"Y/n." He rarely used the full name to address her, which is why when she heard the stern demeanour she immediately snapped her head towards him, eyebrows furrowed with worry. However, she had nothing to be anxious about. Instead, his rough hands harshly wrapped around the back of her neck, lips colliding with his and tongues asking little to no permission before finding each other. Moaning into the sudden action, y/n slid onto his lap, straddling him. His man-spreading was irritating but incredibly sexy at other times, especially donning a painful erection.

"Missed you," He mumbled into her mouth, "need you right now."

"Did my pretty baby have a rough day? Does he need attending?" Y/n always knew how to rile him up, in all ways but the grip he had on her hips and neck was bruising.

"Please, y/n, suck my cock." He whined, rutting his jeans into her - already - sopping pussy. Smirking, she dropped to the floor, ignoring the aching of her knees on the wood floor. He always looked slutty when he came back from Oya, sweating and frustrated from fighting. It meant he'd want nothing more than comfort and the company of his beloved girlfriend. And that thought alone was enough to excite her, let alone when he was stressed and needed a good blowjob.

Fumbling with his belt and unzipping his jeans, she palmed him through his boxers, only to hear him holding back his whimpers hissing through his teeth.

"I wanna hear you, baby. Let me hear how you feel." Groans rattled from his throat upon his cock springing free, small hands stroking and swearing pre-cum over his sensitive tip. The pad of her tongue running from the base up, over his veins before taking him into her mouth, swirling the warm muscle just the way he liked it. He was, to her, perfect. Perfect length and girth, enough to please her needy cunt. Murayama's hand crept to her hair, holding it away from her face in a ponytail while moans left his body as her head bobbed on his cock with a wet, sloppy rhythm.

"That's it princess, faster- fuck-" He threw his head back, jaw slacking as she sped up. He knew she knew what she was doing and that she was doing it perfectly, but the more arousal the better. He needed to come. He wanted to make you come. "Good girl, always know how to make me feel good, shit." Y/n hands remained on his thighs, thumbs stroking them to reassure that she was still okay despite his cock hitting the back of her throat with moans ripping through her body. Yoshiki bucked his hips in desperation to finish, feeling himself become dangerously close, rutting faster and more aggressively until he pulled her head away enough for her to swallow with ease.

"That's it, swallow. All of it." Watching his own fluid drip down her chin was lethal, feeling himself become turned on again by his own doing. Regardless, y/n took no hesitation in cleaning him up and finding every last drop.

"Mm, you taste so good. Does my pretty boy feel better?" The honey that laced in her tone as she wiped her chin, kitten licking the last remains of cum left him speechless.

"Hm I don't know, might need your pussy clenching around my throbbing cock to feel fully relieved."

"Fuck me dumb, pretty boy."

_________________________________________

The Murayama Hoes🤪 @straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @porkbumh

#murayama x reader #murayama x y/n #murayama yoshiki #murayama yoshiki x reader #yuki yamada #highandlow #h&l #high&low oneshot #high&low x reader #high&low #oya high

[blueberry-macaron]

94 for Lukanette.

This was so much fun! (putting this under cut bc this got longer than planned)

#94: A “how about we ruin this friendship?” kiss

Juleka poured some hot mint tea in the two cups on the kitchen counter.

„You look more pathetic than usual, bro,“ she commented. „Clearly something happened yesterday that is messing with your head and, as your sister, it is my duty to help you go through your crisis. So, spill.“

Luka fidgeted nervously with the guitar pick he had worn as a necklace for years now. Normally holding it in his hand helped him to think more clearly and relax, but now, it just made him even more anxious. Probably because the person who gave it to him was also the reason for his, as his sister called it, crisis.

„I... I... god, I'm an idiot.“ He laid his head on the counter and sighed.

„That's old news,“ Juleka smiled.

„Screw you, you're not being helpful.“

„How can I if I still don't know what your fucking problem is?“, Juleka sounded annoyed.

Luka sighed again. „Fair point.“

If Juleka had any snarky comment, she decided to keep it to herself and just gave him the cup , who lifted his head, examined the tea and then took a sip.

„Ok, so,“ he began, „yesterday at our album release celebration, after you and Rose went to the store to grab more snacks, Ivan took off to pick up Mylene from her activist group meeting, leaving me and Marinette alone on the upper deck.“

He could feel his heart beat getting faster.

„And... well, we shared a bean bag, cuddled up next to each other, and shared the last remaining cupcake.“

Juleka raised her eye brows, but remained silent.

„And then... well...“

He looked away, still fumbling with the pick.

And?“, Juleka leaned forward.

„ … She had some frosting at the corner of her mouth and I just wanted to wipe it away and...“

The fumbling got worse.

He swalloed. „Everything happened so fast. Or... not really, we just kept staring at each other for what felt like an eternity and then... then I...“

The pick hit the floor as he hid his face in his hands.

„I kissed her.“

The silence that followed after this confession was suffocating. Luka rubbed his face, blushing furiously as the memory of their faces being so close to each other came back, his fingers lingering on her lower lip, the intense staring, him leaning in as his hand cupped her cheek and he asked herself what kind of magical chapstick Marinette must use that made her lips so incredibly soft-

STOP.

He dared to take a peak at Juleka, who... looked a little underwhelmed. Bored, even. As if Luka had told her about how he had done the laundry or something equally mundane and unexciting.

„You guys kissed?“, she asked for clarification. Luka nodded slowly, then a hint of a smile appeared on her face.

„Are you kidding me right now?", Luka asked irritated. His sister just looked back to him, unphased.

"This isn't a joke, Marinette is my best friend. Has been for the last couple years, and now I kissed her, which probably endangdered our friendship and you're just... what are you even talking about? Did you make a bet with the others or what is going on?“

Juleka lifted her hands in defense. „Bro, honestly you should've done that sooner, then I would've gotten fifty euros instead. You're the one ruining my chances of getting rich, so stop whining. Also, what do you mean 'endangered your friendship?'“

Luka looked at her dumbfounded. „You can cosider yourself lucky that I don't have the energy to get into the money thing right now, but... Marinette is my best friend. And best friends don't just kiss like that? Since I knew her, she had never shown any sign that she liked me as anything else.“

„Luka-“

„She first dated Adrien forever, and after their break-up nothing between us had changed, either.“

„Luka-“

„And now I pushed myself onto her in a moment of... weakness, I guess? I don't know, but I kissed her without even asking first. That's so wrong on so many levels and now-“

„First of all, I need you to chill the fuck out,“ she said, „and second of all, how are you so sure the friendship is ruined or whatever? Did she reject you afterwards?“

Luka bit his lips. „I... I don't know? I mean, after we... well, you guys suddenly showed up and we couldn't talk about it with the whole group also being there, obviously. So we sat there for ten minutes while you guys were talking about god knows what and she completely avoided looking at me! And the when she left, she rejected my offer to accompany her home, which she had never done before! So clearly she's uncomfortable around me now and probably doesn't want anything to do with me any longer.“

He sighed.

„I mean, she knows how I feel. I told her back then, when I got akumatized the first time, while also making clear that I don't ask for her to return those feelings, so it never was a problem. I never wanted to pressure her into anything she didn't want and... now I did just that.“

Luka buried his face in his hands again. This was a nightmare.

He felt two hands on his shoulder, gently massaging him.

„Luka,“ Juleka's voice became soft again. „I think you're being too hard on yourself. If Marinette didn't want to kiss you, she would've slapped you. And her going home alone could also be because she was just as flustered as you and just was too awkward to talk about it with you. You know how she gets overwhelmed like that sometimes.“ She ruffled his hair. „So don't beat yourself up over it, 'kay?"

„What am I supposed to do?“, he asked, sounding absolutely devastated.

Juleka patted his back. „Talk to her, obviously. Figure out what you both want. I don't think Marinette would throw away your friendship just like that. Besides, you can't know if her feelings didn't change and she just didn't say anything until now.“

Juleka shrugged. „To be fair, we sort of suspected such a thing might happen sooner or later. I don't know, you guys always seemed very couple-y with each other, so I wasn't surprised when you told me about the kiss. I always thought it was just a matter of time.“

The "Hm" sound Luka made didn't sound convinced at all. He looked down to the floor where the pick laid.

"I don't know. How are you so sure of this?"

Juleka raised an eye brow. „Luka, we all have eyes. But if you don't want to believe me, stop being a coward...“ she picked up the necklace from the ground and put it in his hands, „and ask Marinette yourself.“

He pressed a quick kiss to his sister's forehead, while she gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. „Go get her, tiger.“

As he was about to sprint out of the kitchen, he suddenly came to a halt in front of the door, barely avoiding a collision with...

„Marinette?“

The unexpected visitor returned Luka's surprised gaze for a few seconds.

„Uh... hey, Luka. Hey, Juleka,“ she said and managed a smile.

„Speak of the devil,“ Juleka mumbled bemused and walked past Marinette. „I just remembered, I have some business to attend to. You two have fun.“

With that, she disappeared. Marinette looked after her, then turned around to stare at Luka again, and it felt like the night they were sitting together on the bean bag all over again.

„Hey,“ Marinette said again.

Luka smiled. „Hey.“

„Can, uh... can we talk?“

Luka felt his heart beating, loud and erratic, in his chest. Whether out of excitement of seeing her or out of anxiety for what she might say next, he wasn't sure. He simply gestured to one of the seats, inviting her to sit down, which she did. Luka sat down next to her.

For a moment, neither of the two said anything and never before had silence felt so unfomcortable and awkward than in this moment, despite the fact that it was between two best friends who were always comfortable around each other. And Luka absolutely hated that he felt that way. So when he could no longer stand the silence, he worked up the coursage to take the first step.

„I'm sorry for kissing you last night. I don't know why I did that, I just... I guess there was... um... I don't know, I feel awkward and... I'm so sorry. For ruining our friendship like that.“

He looked away. „I just pushed myself onto you and that wasn't right. I understand if you don't want to hang around me anymore, just... I want you to know that I never meant for that to happen and I'm terribly sorry.“

Marinette bit her lips. She stared at the half empty tea cup Juleka had left behind, and the fact that she didn't look at him made him even more nervous of what was to come.

„Luka,“ she began carefully, „First of all, you didn't push yourself onto me, I, uhm... I mean I leaned in as well and, uh...“

She took a deep breath. „The truth is, I...“

He closed his eyes to brace himself.

„I honestly wish you were a little less sorry.“

His eyes flew wide open.

„Huh?“

Marinette turned to look at him directly.

Marinette turned to look at him directly.

„I know we've been best friends since forever and I deeply cherish this friendship, I really do. You've been there for me everytime I needed a shoulder to cry on, we celebrated milestones together, we spent so much time together and I enjoyed every second of it. And over time... well... I guess I sort of... I though... God, I should've written this down before coming here.“

Luka gave her an encouraging smile. „Ah, no , you're doing fine. I'm just as much at a loss of words here, so please take your time. “

She smiled. „You're always so patient with me. I like that,“ she said and the way she smiled at him made his stomach turn in the most pleasant ways.

„So yeah, over time, something changed. About the way I see you. The way I... feel... about you.“

Luka didn't dare to breathe.

��I didn't really understand at first what it was that I felt. Until we kissed last night...“

She adverted her gaze, not being able to look him in the eyes any longer.

„What I'm trying to say is... I liked it. Kissing you, I mean. I really liked it.“

He was dreaming. He had to. Juleka must've put something in that tea so he would doze off and imagine this whole scenario right now. There was no way, no freaking way, that Marinette had just come here (or ran, judging by how sweaty she actually looked) to confess to him that she liked kissing him. The only thing making him doubt his theory was Marinettes hand slowly moving towards his own and touching it, which felt entirely too real to just be a dream.

„O-oh,“ he said. „That's... really?“

Wow, a girl just confessed and that's your answer to that? Way to go, Couffaine.

„I mean, good,“ he quickly added, „I was scared you wouldn't want to see me again afterwards. With how weird I was-“

„What?“ Marinette more or less jumped out of her chair, looking almost offended. „Why would I not? I would be stupid to ignore you after everything! Do you actually have any idea how importat, how precious, you are to me?“

„I meant what I said, Luka. Our friendship means the world to me. You mean the world to me. This kiss didn't ruin anything between us! If anything, it ruined me! I had to come here and talk to you about this and figure things out because I couldn't freaking distract myself. No matter what I did, baking or sewing, I kept thinking about how dreamy and perfect that stupid kiss was! And you have the audacity to doubt yourself like that? Are you for real?“

Luka stared at her confused.

„The... the kiss was that distracting to you?“

Marinette seemed to have suddenly realised what she had just admitted to, blushed furiously, and hid her face in his shoulder. He burst out laughing, and wrapped one arm around her.

„Gosh, Mari,“ he gasped, „you're adorable!“

„Shut up!“, she whined, but he could hear that she was laughing as well.

After they both calmed down, they stayed like this, half cuddling, while Luka stroked her back with one hand.

„So, that means we're good?“, he asked.

Marinette lifted her head and pressed her forehead against his. „Yeah, we're good.“

Luka smiled. „I'm glad.“

Marinette opened her eyes and he found himself once again drowning in her breathtakingly beautiful eyes.

„You know,“ Luka said after a while, „I actually don't really have anything against ruining our friendship. If that means I'll get to kiss you again.“

"Then what are you waiting for?", Marinette smiled. „Ruin it.“

He closed the distance with more confidence this time, holding her face close to his as she ran her fingers through his hair, making soft moaning sounds as he got bold enough to let his tongue slip into her mouth. He tilted his head to further deepen the kiss, letting one hand slinde from her cheek over her shoulder to her upper back.

Perfect didn't even begin to preoperly describe the way he felt.

After breaking the kiss to actually catch some air, Luka got up and lifted Marinette onto the counter, one hand resting on her thigh, the other cupping her cheek while he stood in between her legs as she tried to pull him closer, as if she wanted to keep him there forever.

If their first kiss was like a question, this one was the answer.

Send me a number and I'll write a short(ish) Lukanette fic!

#ask #anon #ml fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #writing request #kissing propmts #lukanette #pro lukamari #Marinette dupain cheng #Luka couffaine

[gay-dorito-dust]

Asexual reader x jason todd or alternatively a quiet sensitive shy reader who has anxiety…. Or just all of that together :3 also, when people write a shy anxious reader they tend to make them book nerds, and I like books but I haven’t read many so I wouldn’t say I’m a book worm, so… maybe not a huge book worm reader :3 I’d like Jason to read to me tho :3 thank you! It’s cool that you’re ace too!

Kinda shitty ending, couldn’t think of anything good even for a fake book but enjoy I guess.

There were once a time where you did everything in your power to avoid the man they called Jason Todd. To you he was intimidating just by his sheer size alone with how he towered over you and automatically you assumed he was nothing more then a muscle headed, misogynistic dickhead who adheres to unhealthy masculine societal norms. He made your body go into into a fight or flight stance so that you could rush towards the nearest exit if the occasion if inklings of hostility were to ever to arise.

However these were be proven wrong later down the line where after helping you in making a doctors appointment after noting the tense body language, the almost robotic responses that he assumed you must’ve practiced in your head on more then one occasion before picking up the phone, feeling particularly confident in your abilities; Until you punched in the number that was before Jason decided to take over in order to elevate you of the pressure. It wasn’t until then that you began to see Jason for who he really was, now finding comfort in him then you did before and even found yourself staying close to his side whenever you went out late at night; being all too aware of how dangerous the streets of Gotham could get.

He was unbelievably patient with you whenever you backed out on outgoings mere moments before in favour of being in the comfort of your hastily built apartment, dressed in your favourite pair of sweatpants and hoodie; Jason would only follow your lead without a single complaint falling from his lips before changing out of his attire into something more comfortable before joining you on the couch afterwards claiming that he didn’t feel like going out anyways.

“Whatcha got there sweetheart?” Jason asked as he stepped into the apartment he found himself spending more and more time in, removing his jacket only to place it onto the back of a nearby chair as he stripped himself of his boots and gear before putting on a pair of drawstring sweats and a sleeveless hoodie from one of the drawers of your room that he always kept when he was too tired to make it back to his own place; thankful of the fact that your pace was within walking distance. “A book.” You stated from your place on the couch as though it was obvious, clutching the aforementioned book against your chest. It was a book recommended by a friend of yours who was an avid bookworm and considering how picky they were towards what they deem was worth reading, they held this particular one in the highest regards.

It wasn’t anything original nor astounding in terms of writing or premise but you guessed the pacing was something to take note of if you were a novice within the writing industry; other then that the story and characters were incredibly complex and had taken you on many false leads and dead ends that once you finish it the pieces would finally click in your head. “I can see that,” Jason’s voice brought you out from your internal review of the book to see him now sitting next to you on the couch, looking over your shoulder; using his fingers to push the book away from your chest to see the cover, “I just wanna see what could possibly take your attention away from me.” He teased lightly as he took advantage of your stunned silence in peeling the book away from your grasp so he could read the blurb.

“The accursed mirror is a fictional tale following the journey of a mercenary who’s soul is trapped within a mirror after an unfortunate death. It seems as though the mirror has more in mind for him as traumatic events of his past come back to haunt him.” He looked over at you before back to the book, already opening it to the first chapter, “mind if I read it aloud?” You didn’t say anything other then wordlessly make yourself comfortable against Jason’s side, head tucked in the junction between his shoulder and the underside of his jaw as his the hand not holding the book rested at your side; pulling you into his lap where his breath made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. It wasn’t intimate by any means but it was more or less out of a necessary need to be comforted, to be within safe hands even in the walls of your own home and Jason was the one you thrived comfort from.

Jason chuckled at this but didn’t add anything else other then kissing the top of your head before bringing his chin to rest against your head as he tucked you further into himself before beginning the first paragraph of the story. “Waking up within a mirror was the least of Gerald’s worries. It was how he got here that concerned him most. He wasn’t bleeding out on some nobleman’s floors as he was supposed to be looking into the eyes of the person who bested him at his own game as the life drained from his skin.” Jason’s voice was enriching the written literature that you found yourself in able to stay awake long enough for him to finish the page never-less chapter. So much so his words became muffled in your ears as you practically melted into his arms, eyes heavy with sleep while he continued, completely unaware of the sleeping person on his lap.

“Gerald once though he was bound for greatness but now that all seemed nothing more then a distant dream belonging to that of a child’s and he was no child…he hadn’t been in a long time.”

#dc imagines #dc imagine #dc x you #dc x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #Jason Todd x asexual!reader #Jason Todd x you #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd imagines #Jason Todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagines #red hood imagine #Batman imagines #batman imagine

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Last Kiss | Georgenotfound

Requested? Eh

Warnings? So fucking sad tbh

Summary: You and George break up

Word Count: 1,239

You groan slightly, your body waking before your eyes can open and you feel the weight of George’s body laying next to yours. Your eyes slide open to find him pressed against your side, his eyes tracing your features in a tired state. 

“Mm George?” you ask tiredly, moving so you’re on your side and facing him. 

“Go back to sleep love,” he whispers. 

“Can’t,” you say, moving closer to him. “Not when you’re staring at me like a weirdo.” 

His face cracks into a smile and you reach up and run a fingertip over his soft lips. He presses a kiss to your knuckles before dragging you even closer. Your eyes flicker for a moment to the clock behind him, the red numbers glaring a menacing 1:58 at you. Your eyes slide shut and just as you’re ready to fall back asleep, George speaks again. 

“I love you,” he murmurs. 

Your heart floods at the first time hearing those words, spilling over and shooting adrenaline through your entire body. You would consider killing him for waking you up so intensely that way but your love outweighed it. 

“I love you too.” 

With that, the two of you drift back to sleep, wrapped up safe and tight in each other's arms. 

You hated flying so incredibly much. 

Airports made you anxious, you hated waiting around, standing and sitting far too close to complete strangers and the flight itself was always far too long. But the thing that got you through was the fact that you knew the minute you stepped off this plane, George would be there waiting for you. 

You listen to the roar of the engines as your flight starts to make its neverending descent toward the ground. You close your eyes just as the tires bump the runway and now your adrenaline is spiked. Your leg bounces in annoyance, wanting to grab your stuff and run out the doors. 

However, you wait. You grab your suitcase out of the overhead and wait as the people slowly descend the steps of the plane and onto the runway. When you get to the doors, you’re greeted with the scent of fresh London rain and shiny concrete as you step down. 

Your head swivels in every direction and once you spot the brunette you take off. Your suitcase and the other passengers long forgotten in the chase towards your boyfriend. He turns just in time, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and you shove your face into his neck. 

His arms wrap tight around you, his every inch pressing against you and making your pulse thrum uncontrollably. His heartbeat matches, slamming against his chest and bumping into yours. 

“Hi,” you whisper in his ear and his grip seems to tighten. 

“Hello my love.” 

A few days after you come back home, George drags you to a birthday party for Wilbur. You weren’t overly fond of parties and you were a little surprised when George begged you to go but you knew he didn’t want to spend the whole time alone or only talking to a couple of people. 

Just as you had stepped away from another couple, George offers you a soft smile. The music flows over you and realization hits you both. 

“Come on,” he asks, those big brown eyes begging you to dance with him. 

You roll your eyes, his hand already traveling to grab yours and he pulls you against him. Your intertwined hands rest against his chest as he sways the two of you to the beat. 

Nothing else ever really mattered to George as long as you were with him. 

“He snores?” Karl asks, a childlike giggle escaping from him. 

“Yes! Loudly!” you tell him and George rolls his eyes next to you. 

“Oh and he also,” you start but are cut off by George’s lips on yours, effectively silencing your next sentence. When you part, you roll your eyes and turn back to Karl. 

“Did you have to tell him I snore in my sleep?” George asks as the two of you walk out of his apartment. His hands are stuffed into the jeans of his pocket, his shoulders caving to make him look smaller. 

“Baby you know I’m just messing with you,” you say, bumping your shoulder with his. 

“Besides, I was gonna tell him that-“ you start again but George turns and pulls you against him, pressing his lips to yours again. 

“You’re so annoying,” you say when he pulls back but keeps you connected by the soft touch of your foreheads against each other. 

“You love me.” 

You sit on the couch, tears rolling down your cheeks and head hung low. George stands before you, arms crossed defensively in a way that almost makes it seem like he’s hurting just as much as you. 

“I thought you loved me,” you whisper out, risking a glance at the older boy. 

“I do,” he says, taking a step forward but you hold a weak hand out to him. 

“Don’t lie to me,” you whisper. 

“I’m not. I still love you.” 

He takes another step forward, leaning down to kiss the top of your head and it’s like a dam breaking inside of you. The door clicks shut as he walks out and you wrap yourself up tight in your own arms and sit until you’re numb. 

You move in a trance, work, eat, sleep, repeat. The world was muted without George’s love to light it back up. Through social media you watch as he moves to the states, he meets his best friend for the first time. 

It hurt being so on the outside of someone’s life that was always intertwined with yours. You watch through posts and photos feeling like he was moving on, moving away from you and it’s a foreign feeling that was so strangely linked to how you used to know everything about him. How could it suddenly be reduced to nothing? 

Just as you’re tempted to chuck your phone across the room, it rings in your hands, Dreams contact popping up. 

“Hello?” you ask unsure when you swipe answer. 

“Hey darling! How are you?” 

Dream and you had stayed close after the breakup considering you were friends before you started dating George in the first place. 

Hearing his voice settles something in you that you didn’t know you needed. It helped you get your fill of George and also get your mind off of it. 

“It’s gorgeous here! Please come visit again soon! We all miss you,” he tells you and part of your heart clenches at hearing the statement. 

“I will baby. I love ya call me later.” 

Your phone slides from your grip, the image of George’s smile and bright eyes in the sunshine gripping your heart in a way that hasn’t felt like that in a while. You don’t realize you’re crying until a tear drops onto your hand and you force yourself to get up and go into your room. 

You head to your closet, hoping to find a hoodie to drown in when something catches your eye. A tan hoodie at the bottom of your closet that you know is George’s from the look of it. 

You sink to the floor, grabbing the fabric and unconsciously slipping it over your head. The fabric is tangled in your fingers as tears well up more and more. 

“How could it end like this?” 

#georgenotfound drabble #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound imagine #mcyt fic #mcyt imagine

[thr-333]

All in all, it got me thinking so much, did F!Leo never think that without him the brothers might have become completely different people?

Maybe they would have felt all their lives that they were missing Junior? They felt a great longing for someone they didn't even know. Maybe it would have changed them. Would they ever be able to forgive F!Leo for taking their brother away from them?

Yes I’m so glad you  brought it up because you see I have been doing some thinking on how this would actually affect the family. I did mention something about an its a wonderful life scenario. So prepare for my ramblings good citizens!

To talk about how the boys were affected you first have to talk about Splinter... Yeah he did not handle the loss of his son well at all. He spent a lot of their early years out looking for Leo jr. Who he could never find and eventually gave up, believing he was dead. This made him super paranoid and he will pack everyone up and force them to move every few months at random with no warning. Admittedly I haven't thought much about his personal arc that will come with time suffice to say he is even more neglectful than in canon.

Raph has DID in this au because I made an entire comic about it so clearly I’m obsessed with the idea. Raph as 3 alters Red(inspired by Red.Angel.Of.Preventing.Harm), Savage and Raph himself, Mind Raph’s role has sort of been replaced(we’ll get to that). Savage is obsessed with finding ‘blue’ he will front and go out scouring the sewers for him, during that time it’s not safe for anyone to leave the lair. Raph is very much like what he is in canon except he fronts less sharing the body between Red and Savage more often and is somehow more anxious and  pressured to protect his brothers. In place of Mind Raph he has a vision? Hallucination? Straight up Introject Alter? of Leo jr as a child who acts very bright and bubbly, a representation of the little brother he couldn't protect. Red has the same except his version of Leo is as an older teen who mocks him for his failings as a brother. His Leo represents the brother they all need, someone who could do a better job than him who could actually keep the family together. Red resents Leo jr for the hole he left behind in the family and his own projected issues. Feeling incredibly guilty for blaming a most likely dead kid for his own short comings. Red is the only one that ventures beyond the sewers after Splinter stopped, doing supply runs and the like.

Mikey in this is still trying to play the role of family therapist but is getting tired/burnt out from it. All his attempts, strategies and plans always fail or get shot down so he is halfway to giving up. His attitude is less upbeat because of this leaning more towards Dr Delicate touch. The only one really willing to spare him time is Raph who smothers him so Mikey keeps trying to distance himself. He yearns for independence(or to just get out of the lair away from the stifling negativity there) but he’s not allowed to go to the surface. So usually when Savage isn’t out and about he is going around painting the sewers. Mikey’s only confidant and support by their teen years is Leo jr. When every things too much and he’s alone Mikey will just go lie down in the room that they have always had set aside for leo and talk to their air. He likes to pretend Leo jr is the brother he needs that he never had, that believes in him that would help bring the family together for movie nights and to have fun.

Donnie is practically a stranger to the family. He never leaves the lair and rarely leaves his lab, too paranoid that someone is going to come back and take him or the others next. He spends his time making weapons and fortifying whatever lair they have set up in. No one in the family really understands him the way his twin would have and with barely getting to spend any time with him they don’t know how to accommodate him. Splinter picking them up and moving them every few months sets him off like nothing else not only is he out of the safety of the lairs he had fortified but he has to get used to a whole new environment, readjust with little to no warning. Which(speaking from experience cough cough) can be really hard, especially when you’re Autistic. He will often have mental shutdowns or meltdowns just needing to hide himself away under a desk or in a closet  for hours to calm down, this is a bi weekly event. He doesn't morn Leo junior the way the rest of them do, more so fears the unknown of what happened to him. That mourning period comes after they meet(because come on I’m going to make them meet at some point the fluff and the angst potential is too much) where he can grieve what could have been.

So all in all it’s going to be very hard to forgive the man that took their brother away.

#rise of the tmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise #rottmnt #f!leo #future leo #future leo au #leo junior au

[violetsareblue-selfships]

Warmth

Ship: Scaramouche x April | Word Count: 1487 | Warnings/Tags: pre-relationship

A/N: tee-hee here have some fluff before scara & I actually get together (aka silly boy denies having any feelings as always)

April lets out a soft sigh as she finally steps out of the harsh, bitter winds. A shiver ripples down her spine and she wraps her coat tighter around her body as she frowns.

Her endurance has been increasing as she goes on more missions and errands, but she can't quite get used to the frigid air of Snezhnaya. It's nothing like the climate she grew up in, even for winters there.

Her first priority is to get herself warmed up. Paperwork can wait until tomorrow and so long as she eats before bed, she'll be fine. However, she's sure she'll end up sick if she doesn't get her body temperature up soon.

The air gets marginally warmer as she walks deeper into headquarters, instinct alone guiding her to the harbingers' side of the building. She makes it about halfway to Signora's room before she freezes.

"Shit." She mutters softly, a frown resting on her face as she remembers that Signora was also sent away for a mission this week. There goes that plan.

The next person that enters her head that could help is Tartaglia, but… no. It's not that she thinks he wouldn't help her warm up, even as new as their sibling relationship is, but it's incredibly late and he's no doubt been busy training all day. She decides to let her poor brother get some sleep while he can.

There aren't too many other harbingers that she's close to and she'd really prefer not having to set a fire herself. Her room does have a lovely fireplace but she's exhausted from her mission. The less work she has to do, the better.

Her eyes settle on Arlecchino's and Columbina's doors and she frowns a little. She could… They've been nothing but lovely to her so far and she really does think they'll be close friends, but… Some part of her doesn't want to bother them. As mentioned, it's late and surely, they already have things to do tonight…

That leaves one person.

Her heart errantly flutters at the thought of him and she barely contains the smile that wants to come to her lips.

Before she even has a chance to get anxious about bothering him at this hour, her feet have already led her over to his door and she knocks on it softly, the same pattern she does every time. She likes to think that the repetition lets him know that it's her and not some random Fatui grunt or another harbinger.

There's a pause, long enough that she tilts her head a little. "…Come in." His voice echoes out and this time, she lets herself smile as she opens the door and steps inside.

Her exhaustion hits her again as she shuts the door behind her and he scoffs softly. "What's wrong with you? You look like shit." Scaramouche says harshly as he gets a look at her, the tiniest sliver of concern in his tone.

April sighs again and turns to look at him. "Yeah? I probably do… Day-long missions tend to do that to you." She snarks back and he hums quietly.

"What do you want then?" He asks, frowning at her. "If you're so tired, you should be smart for once and go to bed."

She laughs softly at his words. "I will, don't worry." She says quietly, laughing more when he grumbles that he isn't worried. "But I'm too tired to set a fire myself, so… let me borrow yours for a bit?"

April swears that concern flickers over his face before it settles back into his usual scowl. "Fine." He grumbles. "Have at it." He gestures over at the lit fireplace before looking back down at his desk.

"Thank you!" April says, making her way over and sitting down on a sofa facing the fireplace.

Scaramouche watches from the corner of his eye as she seems to relax into his sofa, his frown deepening at how tense she is even despite that. His eyes linger long enough to catch her shivering despite the warmth of the fire and something twinges where his heart should be.

No. He shakes his head and adamantly stares back at his desk. He doesn't care about her. He doesn't. He's never going to care about a mortal again and that includes stupid sunshiney harbingers.

His resolve wavers when he catches her holding her hands out to warm them and he rises silently from his desk, disappearing into his rarely used bedroom. He digs out a blanket that had been a gift from… he can't remember which harbinger.

He returns and unceremoniously dumps the blanket on top of her. "Your shivering is distracting." He says, ignoring the way her resulting giggles makes him feel. He will not let himself feel again so clearly his mind's playing tricks on him.

That said, Scaramouche doesn't know why he lingers there once she's wrapped herself in the blanket. He stays there long enough for her to notice and she grins at him. "You know… you could join me if you wanted." She says with a laugh.

"Join you?" He parrots and she nods.

"Yup. It'd get me warmed up faster and out of your hair faster." She says and he sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

'What makes you think I'd want that?' Some tiny part of him whispers, getting immediately silenced. He huffs and walks around the couch before sitting down beside her and peering at her so harshly it's almost a glare.

April giggles a little and shakes her head a tiny bit. "You're too far away. Come here." She lifts the blanket and pats the spot right beside her.

Scaramouche frowns but he does move until he's taken that spot. He doesn't know why he's bothering when he doesn't care about her, but that doesn't stop him from doing as she requests.

April grins in victory and wraps the blanket around him, wrapping an arm around his waist to drag him closer to her until he's flush up against her side.

"You are enjoying yourself way too much." He grumbles, averting his eyes from the blinding brightness of her smile.

"Mm… You don't have much of a temperature." She observes softly. "Not cold or hot…" She shrugs a little. It's likely because his room was already a neutral temperature when she came in. It's only close to the fireplace that it's anything resembling warm.

Scaramouche scoffs but he can't focus. The parts of him that are touching her are warm. She is warm. He doesn't know whether that's a human trait (when's the last time he made physical contact with one?) or simply a trait that only she possesses.

He doesn't care. It doesn't matter, truly. What does matter is that he has never felt so warm. It's the kind of warmth that seeps into him - similar to how the sun has always done (one of life's few pleasures he lets himself enjoy).

How is he ever going to go back to never having this type of warmth again? (It's an errant thought but he could grow addicted to this if he let himself do so.)

Distracted as he is, he doesn't notice her moving, the way she sits up a little more and shifts so that she can pull him closer. She wraps both arms around him and holds him close like a child might a stuffed toy, his head resting on her chest.

She expects a complaint or for him to push her away. The only time he's touched her (and it is rare indeed) is when he bandaged her injuries or when they're sparring and it gets physical on his end.

So, she's in awe that he's letting her cuddle him. Honestly, April thinks he might be short-circuiting, but he's not insulting her and he's not complaining, so she'll take it.

Scaramouche unconsciously sinks into her embrace, his whole body feeling trembly in a way that has him internally screaming at himself. Some trace of that must show on his face as April giggles softly.

"Relax." She says, gently rubbing her hand over his back. "It's not a crime to enjoy this. Even if you don't like me." She says that teasingly and he knows that she doesn't believe that he doesn't like her. Even he doesn't believe it some days.

"Besides, I won't tell anyone about this and I will leave once I feel warmer, promise." She says and he sighs dramatically, scowling even as he snuggles closer to her.

"Foolish mortal…" He mutters softly and she giggles, having the gall to flick him lightly on the back of the head. He won't stand for that! No matter who she may be, she doesn't get to--

Oh… Scaramouche shivers as she starts tracing patterns over his back, his thoughts fizzling out at the touch. Maybe he'll let this slide… just this once.

#self shipping #self ship #self ship fic #self insert fic #self insert #canon x si #canon x self insert #self insert fanfiction #his right hand 💖😈 #my writing

[where-pain-is-so-pretty]

Here it is 🏕💜

I know I’m late, got a pretty bad migraine last night and couldn’t finish it in time. But it’s here now! And I’m super anxious but excited to share it with you!

First of all, thank you to the dear anon for coming up with it!

Thanks to @joonasslut and @rpf-bat for adding some more flavour to the idea.

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head for days and my mind created a whole damn story around it. And somehow the thought became my little safe space. So, I just had to write it.

In the end it got a bit angsty and more self-insert than I intended it to be but you’ll see about that later…

I’m repeating myself, but this blog and my shitty little writings are all I have. And both would not exist without you! You all inspire me so damn much, I can’t thank you enough for it! 💜

And now enjoy the mess I made!

I want you so bad in all the worst ways

Joel x ftm! Reader 

Notes: The reader is Nikos cousin.

Niko and Joonas are a couple!

The reader is trans (ftm), it won’t be a huge part of the story, but it made me feel more comfortable writing the whole thing. Hope you won’t mind.

Title is lyrics from Electric Callboys song Fuckboi!

When your cousin invited you to go on a camping trip over Midsummer, you immediately said yes. You did not have any plans yet and hanging with him, his band mates and some friends sounded like a lot of fun. Also, you could use the distraction right now and had not seen most of the guys in forever.

So, you agreed, packed your bags and got picked up by Niko, his boyfriend, Aleksi and Joel the next morning. The four-hour trip up to the woods, where you would meet the others, went by in a flash. You listened to your favourite songs together, sang along to the extra cringy ones and chit-chatted with the boys. Expect for Niko and Joonas you only knew them briefly, but meeting them always felt like you had known them all your life.

After you had arrived and greeted the rest of the group, it was time to go to work. You helped to put up the tents, pumped up some of the air mattresses and also set up a campfire for the night. The most fun you had with Joonas, decorating the whole camp with fairy lights to make it look cosier in the dark.

When everyone had set up their tent, Olli suggested going for a little walk to explore your surrounding. There was a lake with a small beach nearby, some hiking trails and on the other side of the lake was a boat and fishing rental. Otherwise, there was nothing much but untouched nature.

In the evening you all sat down around the campfire, ate self-made sandwiches and had a couple of beers or soda. The mood was light-hearted and you all laughed while Niko and his bandmates shared some funny tour stories. Later Joonas and Joel got their guitars and played some acoustic songs. Niko and Joel sang for the most part, as they switched the guitars between, Olli, Joel, Joonas and Aleksi. It was incredible to watch how fast they could improvise all the songs you suggested them to play.

The acoustic session went on till midnight when the first few people got up and left for their tents. You could have listened to them for hours, enjoying how light and carefree the music made you feel. But soon you also found yourself alone in your tent.

It was not too bad, very comfy for a tent as well. And at first, you were okay with sleeping alone. More space and privacy for you, no one waking you up early in the morning or during the night, sounded like heaven to you. But now, not so much. You could not sleep, it was way too cold, even with two blankets covering you and your raincoat on, which was more than uncomfortable to sleep in. But stupid as you were you had not brought much warm clothing.

The longer you tried to fall asleep, the more your little tent felt like a prison cell. It felt like the walls were closing in on you and this weirdly troubled feeling made you anxious.

With a shaky breath, you zipped your tent open and went outside. You breathed in the cold, fresh air of the night as you slipped into your shoes.

Mindlessly you wandered around the camp, enjoying the cold air in your lungs and the night sky above you. Even though you were still freezing, the little walk helped you to calm down a little.

The fairy lights and some bigger LED lights illuminated the whole ground, so you did not need a flashlight to move around. You made your way over to the small kitchen area, from afar you could make out the silhouette of a person sitting on one of the chairs and you wondered who would still be up at this time. Once you came closer you identified the person as Joel, you were not surprised. His back was facing you, leaning forward in the chair. You thought he must have noticed you by now, but he remained silent, looking down at his phone.

"Good morning!" You greeted him in a low voice, making him jump up from the chair, nearly knocking it over. He turned around to you, his blue eyes full of shock. "Fucking hell! Y/N! You scared the shit out of me!" He tried to keep his cool but the expression on his face already had you laughing. Now that you looked him over you noticed the cigarette in his hands and the phone in his other.

"Joel?! Smoking in the middle of a forest?!", you playfully mocked him with a shit-eating grin on your face. "Bad habit...and I'm careful, okay!" He took a drag from the cigarette. Breathing out the smoke he offered it to you. "Why not.", you took the cigarette from his hands. You did not smoke often, close to never, and maybe it was his bad influence, but it was not like you cared much either. Dragging on the cigarette you breathed in the smoke. It tasted like shit and made your eyes water, but at the same time, it calmed you.

"Why are you up?" He took the cigarette from your hands again. "Couldn't sleep and I thought a snack would help. Where did they put the marshmallows?" You did not want to tell him about feeling weirded out by being alone in your tent. And this little excuse was the best you could do, plus you need something to neutralise the taste anyway. "Try the red box over there." One of his slender fingers pointed at something behind you.

You searched the box for marshmallows, snatching some out of the bag, before closing the box again. Joel had finished his cigarette by now and was staring at you seemingly amused. "You want one?" You asked him, munching down on your late-night snack, to get rid of the bitter taste on your tongue. He shook his head and raised one of his brows. "What's up with the outfit?" You looked down at yourself, you wore your shiny, black, vinyl raincoat, combined with grey Moomin sweat pants and your half-laced leather boots. Not your best outfit for sure, but not your worst either. "Ey, don't shame my Moomin pants when you are combing a shirt from Bleak World with those!", you pointed down at his slippers and laughed. You were sure he did not mean the pants but your raincoat, but for now, you wanted to avoid that topic.

After your comment, about his gorgeous slippers, he went silent. And you thought he was mad at you, but then you saw a grin appear on his face. "Oh, come on, at least I do not look like the pink version of Bob the Builder." He referred to Joonas bold choice of dungarees. You both let out a chuckle before his voice became more serious again. "No, but seriously, why the raincoat?"

"Unfortunately, this is the warmest thing I have brought.", you sheepishly looked down, now admitting your own stupidity. Joel let out a loud chuckle again, examining your outfit once more. "You have been camping before, have you?", a mocking grin on his thin lips.

"Not that often, no. And for some reason, I thought it would not get that cold." You shrugged your shoulders trying to justify yourself and your questionable fashion choice, hoping he would stop making fun of you. But he did not. Joel still had this stupid grin on his face. "No wonder you are awake, nobody can sleep in that!" He laughed again gesturing at your long raincoat.

"Shut up! You are awake too, Hokka!" You tried your best not to sound pissed about his mocking undertone.

"Fair enough. But I struggle with insomnia." You nearly laughed at how blunt his answer had sounded, but you knew that it probably was the reason why he was still up. Niko and Joonas had often talked about it and Joel, also, had always been very open about his mental health. Which was something you admired him for. You still thought about a response, hoping to make the conversation less awkward again. But it was Joel who broke the silence first.

"I can give you a hoodie if you want." His suggestion came out of the blue and you just blinked at him, struggling to find words.

"Uhm, yeah. If you have one spare, I would gladly take it." You were more than thankful for his offer, the hoodie would not fix the weird feeling of your tent, but at least you would have something more comfortable to wear.

You wordlessly followed him to his tent, he opened it and got out of his slippers before crawling in. He began to search his bags for a hoodie and you took the opportunity to risk a look into his tent. It was slightly bigger than yours, he had a double-size air mattress and black bedding. Of course, he was this edgy, you thought to yourself. Between the messy piles of clothing and some cables you noticed a small bird-shaped night light, that illuminated the tent in dim light. You were sure, Niko once had gifted it to him, as a joke. His tent seemed so much cosier compared to yours, you almost got a little jealous.

"Are you going to stand there for the rest of the night?" Joel's voice brought you back to reality. He had sat down on the edge of his bed and glared up at you.

"I thought...I...", you stammered. Joel made an inviting gesture and you followed his silent offer to join him inside. Awkwardly you sat down across from him as he closed the entrance.

"Here." Joel handed you a black bundle of clothing. Thanking him, you took it from his hands and began to get out of your raincoat. Joel could not hold back a smile when he saw the band shirt you wore underneath it.

"Big fan?" He asked you, slightly tilting his head to glance at your shirt again. You had almost forgotten about the oversized HIM shirt you usual wore as a part of your pyjamas. "Yes, I kinda grew up on them. I have a Heartagram tattoo as well." Without thinking you lifted your shirt, revealing your Heartagram tattoo on your left side, as well as some more tattoos and the two scars under your chest.

Joel's eyes lingered on your body for a while, seemingly interested in all the ink on your upper body. "Woah, these are cool! What was your first?" You let go of your shirt and pointed at the quote on your wrist. "Kinda cliche but this one here. Lyrics from my favourite song", you explained. "Mine was the labyrinth." He looked at the tattoo on his right shoulder and smiled softly.

Your eyes wandered over his arms, you always had liked his choice of tattoos, especially the full sleeve with the skyline and the jellyfish. You tried not to stare at him for too long and quickly pulled his hoodie over your head. When you pulled it down you saw that he had given you another piece out of his Bleak World collection. The hoodie finally made you feel a tiny bit warmer and you snuggled into it, breathing in the smell of it made your stomach tingle.

"What other bands do you listen to? Beside HIM?" He asked you before you could interpret the sudden feeling in your abdomen.

"Uh, a lot..." you needed a second to sort your thoughts. Joel's blue eyes looked right at you, awaiting your answer. "Bring Me The Horizon is a big fav of mine, also Linkin Park, Guns n' Roses, Black Veil Brides, Children of Bodom, Iron Maiden etc." You listed some of your faves, looking back up at Joel. He seemed so focused and invested in your conversation, it almost made you swoon. It had been a while since someone genuinely showed interest in you. Joel nodded in agreement. "Some great choices. Especially the first two."

"My turn now!", you grinned at him eagerly to get to know him better. "What was your first concert?"

"Slipknot.", he happily spat out. "Yours?" "Linkin Park, in 2015. I started kinda late with that," you told him.

"No way?! I was at the same concert!" You saw the sparkle in his eyes as he seemed to remember the night of the concert. And after that, he began to talk about his personal journey with Linkin Park and Chester Bennington.  

You two went on like this for a bit, talking about concerts and music and other interests. Until you realized how late it had gotten. It was almost 2 am.

"I would love to talk for longer, but I should probably go back to my tent..." You were about to get up and leave but Joel stopped you. "Why don't you stay here?" You turned back around, a little surprised by his offer. "Are you sure? I don't want to bother you."

Joel looked at you almost shyly, pushing his blond hair out of his face. "I don't mind. There is enough space for both of us. And I have a second blanket somewhere."

He turned around and pulled a fluffy blanket out from under his bag, handing it to you. "Thank you!" You were more than happy about this, firstly because you did not have to go back into your personal prison cell. And secondly, because you enjoyed his company.

"Nah, not for that. Come on make yourself comfortable" Joel gave you a warm smile and stretched his long legs out, laying down on his side of the mattress.

You were about to tell him how much you appreciated his offer and that being alone in your tent had made you anxious. But for some reason, you felt like he already knew that something was up. Maybe because the feeling was mutual to him.

You let yourself fall into the pillow, wrapping the blanket, Joel had given you, around your body. Finally, tiredness overcame you and your eyes grew heavy. Letting out a small yawn, you were about to say goodnight to Joel. But a fade noise caught both of your attention.

Joel and you sat up again, trying to hear where it came from. "Was that a scream? He just raised his eyebrow trying to find out what had created the sound. Then you heard it again, louder this time. It was not a scream but a moan, coming from the tent next to Joel's.

"Are they fucking serious?! It's 2 in the morning!" He rolled his eyes and began to rummage in his bag.

Annoyed you buried your head in the pillow and pulled the hood of Joel's sweater up, hoping it would drown out the noise of Joonas' and Nikos's activity.

"This won't help! Believe me!" He knowingly said and handed you one of his air pods. You happily took it and put it in, pressing your other ear against the pillow. Joel did the same and then scrolled through his Spotify and started one of his playlists.

Gone with the Sin, was the first song coming up and you slightly smiled as you locked eyes with him. Joel still seemed a little annoyed by your neighbours, but his expression softened the longer the song went on. You were still holding eye contact with him and soon noticed him struggling to keep his eyes open.   He was trying to stay awake and silently keep you company. You appreciated his try, but it was late after all, and he definitely could use some sleep. And you could take it as an opportunity to admire him for a bit longer. His blond hair covered half of his face, hanging down in messy strands. The urge to brush them aside to take a closer look at his features got bigger the longer you looked at his handsome face.

And you did not stop there, your eyes wandered down his arms, examing his tattoos once more. Stopping at the rings on his slender fingers. One of his hands was placed next to his phone, only centimetres away from yours. The skin of his fingertips seemed rough from playing the guitar. You wanted to take it into yours, let your fingers run over his palm and the veins on the back of it. And maybe you were wondering how it would feel in yours, against your skin.

Some more minutes passed and his Spotify must have played at least one HIM record by now. Carefully you took the air pod out and placed it beside the mattress, together with his phone after you had stopped the music. The only noises now were Joel's slow breathing and the rustling of the trees outside, and you soon fell asleep to them.

You woke up from voices outside. Still half asleep you could not make out what they were saying, you only knew it was way too early for loud conversations like this. Right now you felt so warm and cosy, you just wanted to fall back asleep.

Something moved against your side and caught your attention. You blinked your heavy eyes open. Joel!

Your sleepy brain had almost forgotten about last night. And now you were faced with Joel's chest in front of you. The "Anxiety" print on his shirt only inches away from your face. One of his arms loosely hanging around you. A small groan came from him, annoyed by the yelling outside, but he seemed to be only half awake yet. He slightly moved and his grip around your waist tightened, his hand lightly brushing against your lower back. You were not sure what to do. Stay like this? Push his arm off? Not that you mind much, it actually felt quite good. But it clearly was not intended.

"Joel?", you softly spoke, scooting away a bit to look up at his sleepy face as you waited for a reaction. Now you also noticed that the two of you shared a blanket. The one Joel had given you was folded next to you, your arms and legs wrapped around it, holding onto it.

All you got from him was another groan and a slight nod. His eyes stayed shut.

"I don't get it? Where is he?" You heard Joonas voice come from outside. Joel opened his eyes with a sigh and rolled on his back, his arm sliding from your body. And you were honestly a bit sad about it.

He grabbed his phone and checked the time, before rubbing his face. "What's wrong with these idiots? It's like seven in the morning." His voice was still raspy from sleep. He glared over at you. "No idea what's going on." You said in a sleepy tone as you stretched your arms over your head. "Morning and thanks for the blanket" you added, hiding half of your face in your pillow. "Morning. You kinda stole it from me, so I did not have much of a choice." He turned back to lay on his side, now directly looking at you.

You felt your face flush red and were more than glad for the big hood to hide behind. "I did what?"

"Yeah, you were tugging at it, seemed like you were cold and I thought I did share mine.", he let out a light chuckle.

You wanted to smack your own face. "I'm so damn sorry about it. I normally sleep with a side sleeper pillow. I need something to hold on to during the night. Should have brought my pillow..." Now you were more than embarrassed, knowing that you had tried to steal his blanket. After he gave you a hoodie, a blanket and shared his damn tent with you. At least you were not clinging to Joel.

He just shrugged. "I don't mind, there are worse people to share a blanket with. Also thought it was c..." Joel's sentence was cut off by Niko screaming and probably waking the whole camp. "THEN CHECK THE DAMN VAN AGAIN!"

Joel and you shared a look. "Did their marriage suddenly end, or what?", he joked and got up.

You did the same, crawling towards the exit and peaking your head out. Joel following close behind you.

Niko and Joonas ran around camp, yelling at each other, like the old married couple they were, searching for someone or something. "Fuck, they are looking for me!", you realized and shared an awkward look with Joel.

"Here!", you yelled and gestured at Joonas who was the closest to you.

"I found him!" He turned to Niko and pointed in your direction. You got out of Joel's tent as Niko walked towards you, seemingly pissed. "What in seven hells have you been doing here? We searched the whole damn camp! TWICE!"

"I...I couldn't sleep last night and we talked for a while and offered me to stay at his tent. "You tried explaining yourself, very confused why he seemed so angry about it.

He interrupted you impatiently. "I don't care! We found your tent open and empty, no sigh of you. We searched the camp for half an hour! I had a damn heart attack!"

"I'm sorry, Niko." You did not intend to scare him or anything but still thought his reaction was a bit over the top. You stayed silent not wanting to make the conversation any more heated.

"Niko, calm your tits, you sound like a youth councillor!" Joel stood behind you, one of his hands rested on your back to give you a bit of support. You both felt like two teenagers who got caught doing something illegal.

For a moment no one said a word, but you could feel the tension between the three of you.

"Breakfast you two! Or I'll kill someone!" Niko then said, still very much pissed.

Joel followed Niko instantly, not wanting to create any more trouble. You sheepishly slipped into your boots, wondering what you could have done wrong.

"What's his problem?" you heard Olli say with a yawn.

"I wish I knew, but seems like I'm part of it..." you sighed.

"Maybe Porko did not make him come last night." Aleksi joked, trying to lift your mood a little bit.

You gave him a weak smile before you followed both of them to get breakfast.

More notes: Niko is a little bitch here!

There will be at least 2 more chapters but it might take awhile.

(September is pretty packed and I also want to work on some requests first)

#blind channel rpf #blind channel x reader #joel hokka x reader #fucking finally #just two awkward idiots slowly falling for each other