#and even now my heart still aches looking at them

[tarjapearce]

Papa, You're Getting Old

Soccer Family! Miguel x Reader

Warning: Fluff, slight smut, suggestive towards the end, introspection, body perception and insecurities. Married couple rants and moments, no proofread.

Summary: Miguel finally notices his white hairs, comfort ensues.

A/N: Like Miguel, got a mini crisis when I spotted my first white hairs today 🫠. Then remembered mom had them around my age too so jsksk. Then remembered (x2) I had this one sitting forgotten in my files jsksk, been forgetting this AU lately :'). Help.

A/N 2: Nearly done with the moving. So we're back, I guess? jsksj.

Soccer Family Masterlist

Papa, you're getting old.

Gabi's words had unintentionally pierced through his skull, engraving with emphasis the old part in his brain after his girl found out the couple of white hairs peppering his wavy locks. He was getting older.

Fourty years of his life had gone by within the blink of an eye. When did time got itself some wheels to roll faster? Who gave it permission to do that? Yet Gabi's words lingered in his thoughts longer than they should.

He was getting old. And the silver strands popping here and there, discreetly in his gorgeous hair you loved sinking your hands into, were the irrefutable proof to understand time never stopped, not even a single second.

For the umpteenth time, he brushed his damp hair away to see if he discovered more of them, and to his bad luck, he did. Specially on the front and side bangs.

He scowled at his reflection and pursed his lips. His body still kept the musculature his younger self nurtured. He truly never believed people whenever they said that exercise kept you active and young looking.

And besides the greying hairs on his head and some on his chest, the fine lines turning a bit more prominent on his features, he looked almost the same.

The same man you had been sharing a good chunk of your life with. Almost sixteen years to be more exact if you counted those two dating years. And now he was growing old.

Miguel didn't want to admit it, but sometimes his age reminded him that his body wasn't the same anymore.

You'd often find him sleeping midway in the couch during movie nights, or his office, whenever work from home was done. Sometimes, his body would ache out of nowhere, but in truth it was mostly his bad posture due his size.

Other times, his grumpiness ran rampant through the day, leaving his coworkers to deal with it, cause he didn't have the heart to pollute his home with his bad vibes. A term  Gabriella kept including during the conversations at night to talk about her unlikeable classmates.

And now, he was glaring at his reflection for daring to do such thing as graying. Even the happy trail you loved to nuzzle had a couple of white hairs.

"You're winning that staring contest, mi amor."

Your little laugh, earned a brief chuckle from him as his shoulders slumped, and if almost sixteen years of knowing eachother had taught you something, was to perfect to a T the understanding of his body language.

You came closer and hugged him from behind, keeping his towel around his hips in place while spanking his plump ass in the process, earning another airy chuckle from him.

"Wanna tell me why, you're glaring harder at yourself this time?"

His arm wrapped gently around you and caressed your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. Yours and his reflection in the bathroom mirror staring right back.

"I'm... getting old, mi reina."

You blinked before looking up at him to have a proper view of what he meant.

"More like aging like a fine wine, Miguel."

"No. You don't understand. Look at this," he pointed at the pluck of white hairs peeking out from his roots, "I didn't have them a few months ago and now I've got a bunch of them. Everywhere!."

You smirked, "Everywhere?"

"Mi amor." He warned and you giggled, pulling him down for a kiss.

"Relax, they look gorgeous on you."

"Oh, do they now?"

With a sigh, you took his hands and gave him that look, he knew by heart as a 'really?'

"I've known you for... How long?" It was your turn to hold onto his narrow waist, holding him exactly the way his hands held yours at the beginning.

"Almost sixteen years." He mumbled, still glueing his eyes on the decaying version of himself.

You nodded and looked at the mirror. Together and close, like most of your pictures together. As always.

"Basically almost half of your life. I met you when I was twenty one, gave birth to our Gabibi by twenty three, enjoyed her for ten years, then we almost made Benjamin in the car."

He snorted and nodded, tittering silently at the sudden memory of the cops calling you out in the lookout spot.

"Almost." He mumbled and you nodded.

"Almost, yeah. But we made him! And look at him, being the smartest boy in his class."

Miguel nodded, fond of his boy's achievements.

"And now we have Rosie. Crawling and trying to walk up in every room we put her in."

"Remind me to baby proof the stairs."

You smiled and smacked his ass, "What I'm trying to get at, Papa. Is that, those white hairs in your head and body are only a beautiful proof that you've lived and loved the right way. Look at us."

You pulled him down for a peck, and cupped his cheeks, making him to look your way.

"You, Papa, mi amor, mi niño hermoso, are the best everything I've ever get to experience. And I'm honored to be the one that you're growing old with."

His eyes softened and his hands trapped yours to then kiss them.

"I'm having white hairs too! Like, the other day a kid called me señora to get me pass his ball. SEÑORA!"

His chuckle turned into a soft and genuine laugh.

"Like, the audacity!"

"You're my señora." He murmured in the side of your head, kissing it afterwards.

"Damn right I am." You nodded proudly," Like we're Mr. and Mrs. O'Hara for a reason."

His smile turned sweeter as he placed your hands around his neck and sat you before him in the sink, looking down on your eyes.

"Would you love me-"

"If you were a worm, yes. I would."

"Cállate" he laughed and cleared his throat, "I mean, you... You still want this?" He pointed at his graying hair and chest.

"That question is offensive in itself."

His eyes darted away, but your soft and gentle hands made his gaze to hold against yours again.

"I'd love you if you were bald, had extra pounds, all tattooed, piercings and stuff, a worm, hell, I'd love you the same if you were an alien."

His brow quirked, but snorted, genuinely amused at your rambling.

"I'd love you the same even if we're going through natural changes as growing old. And yes, I'd still fuck and make love to you all the same." Your hands rested on his hips.

"Oh really?"

"Obviously. That makes me worried though. You're entering a dangerous zone where women see you even more handsome. And I'm not one to be jealous, but all of this," You tapped his butt gently, "is mine."

He pecked your lips with a loving laugh. "I'm all yours. And you're pretty jealous."

"Well, yeah, I'm not sharing your dilfness with anyone. Not when I have these for myself." Your hands squeezed his firm butt and spanked it, he pursed his lips, trying his best to suppress a bashful smile.

"And I'm pretty sure in a future our caretakers would find us having sex in the most random of places in the hospice."

That pulled a merry laugh out of him to then kiss your lips.

"You're crazy."

"For you, always. But in all truth, they'll have to put me in quarantine, because I'm still jumping your bones. Even if I have to use a cane, or ask for assistance to the nurses."

"You'd be lucky if still works."

Your eyes rolled and your thighs pulled him closer to you, between your legs. His teeth bit softly his bottom lip as your hands roamed up his chest, eyes widening partially at the sudden bold move.

His soapy clean smell tickled your senses, after all, you had caught him post shower.

"Trust me, it works wonders."

He groaned when your hand slid between the folds of his towel, cupping him with a light squeeze.

"Yeah?" He half mumbled, half moaned into your lips with darkening eyes. Your touch ever delicious, and sparking the arousal only you managed to ignite in his body. Your scent remained forever etched into his brain, almost conditioning him into enter a needy mode whenever desire oozed from your pores.

You nodded with a needy 'hmm' while your hand stroked him, as if with every movement you'd jerk and caress away all those insecurities out of his mind and body.

"Definitely, mi amor."

His hips stuttered into your gentle grip, heaving a deep and shuddering breath hovering over your inviting lips, relieved and proud to see your eagerness to have him. Gray hairs and all.

The silver strands mattered little, specially when you were set into worshipping and honoring your vows.

"I think I'd love to test it's performance, just to make sure."

A crawl rolled down his spine upon your words. He loved when you talked in his language, it turned him on im such a way he didn't know it could make that part of his cortex tingle. But this moment, had him delivering sweet pecks and kisses down your neck, drunk in your softness and want for none else but him.

You still wanted him, flaws and all. He still made you a mess. And that made his cock to twitch.

"Shall we go to the testing area then, mi reina?"

His flushed and broad tip poked urgently between your clothed folds and inner thighs, hoping to slip in your scorching tightness and wreck you completely, like in his younger years.

However, as much as he wanted to take you right there, the privacy of your room offered him more space to bend and meld you at his whims. Without saying much, he threw you over his shoulder and rushed to your bedroom, thrilled for the upcoming long hours of exhaustive, mind splitting testing.

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #soccer family ⚽🕷️ #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #mama o'hara #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara fluff #miguel x y/n #miguel x you

[likegoldintheair]

Buck sighs into the barely there space between them, a small content thing, and burrows himself deeper into the soft fabric of Tommy's bed. It's one of those rare days where they're both off work at the same time. No on-calls or long shifts waiting around the corner. The next twenty-four hours are theirs for the taking, free to do whatever they want with. Buck, at least, plans to stay in this bed for as long as he possibly can. He's all tangled up with Tommy, from head to toe, to the point where he barely knows where he ends and Tommy begins. Everything around him feels soft and warm and safe.

"I missed you, y'know."

It's more a whisper than anything else, but Buck knows Tommy's heard him by the way his fingers pauses momentarily on his back, before continuing to draw lazy patterns up and down his spine.

"I missed you, too." Tommy replies, voice still laced with sleep, deep and raspy. "I missed you a lot, even though we did just see each other two days ago."

"Two long days." Buck points out, his pout turning into a smile when he hears Tommy laugh. "Two excruciatingly long days."

"Yeah, they were long, weren't they." Tommy agrees, flattening his hand against Buck's back and letting it rest there between his shoulder blades. His voice is softer, sadder almost, when he continues, "they always seem longer when you're not here."

Buck's heart aches at that because he knows. He knows, and he feels it, too. He doesn't say anything, though, chooses instead to press a gentle kiss onto Tommy's shoulder, hopes it conveys everything he can't quite put into words. Another sigh escapes him when he feels Tommy dip down to press a kiss of his own to the top of his head. They stay like that for a while, content in simply existing in the same room, breathing the same air. It's a luxury none of them take for granted.

"You know," Buck says eventually, an idea he's been toying with for a while now, making itself known again and spilling out of his mouth within seconds. "I-I could always move in. Here, I mean, with you."

"Evan."

"I could, though." Buck says again, rearranging himself so that he's resting on his elbow, looking down at Tommy. "I'm already here more than I'm at the loft, a-and most of my clothes are here, anyway."

Tommy just... looks at him, like he can't quite believe this is real. Blinks, then swallows, then blinks again. Buck distantly wonders if maybe he's rushing things, if this is going too fast, but then Tommy's face lights up; eyes crinkling and nose scrunching from how wide he's smiling. He looks... adorable, yes, but also so incredibly beautiful. Buck loves him.

"So," Buck says, a little bit more confident now, biting down on his own smile. "Is that a yes?"

Tommy's smile softens at that, eyes warm as his hand moves from Buck's back up towards his neck, the other one coming up to cradle Buck's jaw. Then, he pulls Buck down towards him, leaning up to meet him halfway. Buck absolutely melts against him, reveling in the way Tommy guides him into one kiss after another, before breaking apart and pressing their foreheads together.

"Of course," Tommy breathes, pulling Buck impossibly closer, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. Buck moves his hand until it rest on Tommy's chest, feels his heart under the palm of his hand, beating steadily as he continues, "Of course it's a yes."

#helloooo i don't know how to do prompts #but i do know how to do whatever the hell this is bless #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 fic #bucktommy fic #again - if there's a grammatical error no there isn't <3 #nea writes

[cherrylovelycherry]

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and a pain au chocolat."

Trios never work

pairing. Aventurine x gn!reader x Dr ratio (poly) cw/genre. angst, some slow burn, anxiety vomiting, drink, being left out, slight addiction issue. synopsis. you couldn't stand to be left out any longer. full menu

You watched the television disinterestedly, not paying attention to whatever is on that channel.

You, Aventurine and Ratio have been together for a little over a year now. At first, it was great, you three were inseparable and you did almost everything together. Moved in, split chores and expenses, that sort of thing.

That is, until you started being left out by them. You've always known they're closer to each other as they've been in love for time, but why did they even want you there if they'd just… forget about you?

Today is no different, unfortunately. You're stuck beside them, having to watch them cuddle and talk to each other while you just sit by yourself. Finally having enough, you stand from your spot, making your way towards the door.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Aventurine asks as Ratio buries his face into his neck gently, his arms around his waist. Ratio looks up at you as well, his eyes taking in your expression, "You look upset. Is something bothering you?"

Your shoulders slump, eyes not quite meeting theirs. "Nothing." you reply softly, shifting uncomfortably. A slight lie.

Your throat tightens, "I was just going to go for a little walk," you murmur, a forced smile on your lips.

Ratio gives you a slightly skeptical look before sitting up to properly look at you, his arms still around Aventurine. "Why do you need a walk? Are you feeling unwell?" He asks.

"No, I just…" You stumble over your words, your voice growing shaky. "I just need a bit of air. Fresh air." They're so focused on you, eyes scanning you with hints of worry and curiosity, and yet—you still can't help but feel left out. It's the way they're still holding close to each other, not making any effort to reach out to you instead. It stings a bit.

There's a bit of a pause, the air between you turning a little tense as Ratio seems to think over your answer. He nods slowly, resting his chin on Aventurine’s shoulder.

"Alright then. Go on." He says, turning his head to press a kiss to Aventurine’s neck.

Your heart sinks a little at his words. It was so easy for him to just tell you to go. No offer to come with or ask if he should come with, nothing. It made the ache in your chest worse.

You nod silently, not trusting your voice. "I'll be going now. I'll be back soon." You murmur, slipping your shoes on and opening the door.

Aventurine opens his mouth to say something, but you’re already walking towards the front door. "Be careful on your walk," he calls out, "Don’t be out too late." You simply nod as you open the door, a small sigh of relief escaping your lips as you step outside.

You walk aimlessly, taking in the fresh air and the peaceful night sky. Still, your thoughts aren't very positive. Your mind keeps running back on how close they were, how lonely you felt being right next to them. It's exhausting, really, and it hurts more than you care to admit.

Both are left sitting together on the sofa, looking towards the door that you'd just walked out of. Aventurine hums gently. "They seemed a bit upset, don't you think?"

Ratio lets out a thoughtful hum, his expression a little grim. "Yeah…" He mutters, his eyes glued to the door. "I noticed too." His fingers begin to trace patterns on Aventurine’s waist, his touch almost absentminded as he thinks to himself.

"They've been acting a bit strange lately as well," he points out after a few moments of silence. "More down or distant, I think."

You walked leisurely through the cheerful and welcoming streets of Penacony. Which, despite being so, you did not find at all amusing.

It felt more, shall we say, boring.

You went up to the highest rooftops, seeing how pretty the lights looked and people enjoying themselves.

You felt jealous when you saw a couple taking pictures of each other. You shook your head, pushing those thoughts away.

To tell you the truth, the flat they bought here is only provisional since your boyfriends are on some kind of; mission? assignment?

You didn't really understand.

And of course, you being their partner, you're always with them wherever they go.

You sighed, crossing your arms a little as you leaned against the railings of the rooftop, looking down at the people below and the lights. The cool night air blew gently, gently brushing your hair with it.

You stayed there for a while, simply taking in the sights and sounds of the city around you. For a while it's peaceful and pleasant, a temporary distraction from the thoughts in your head. However, after a while, your mind drifts back to Ratio and Aventurine, and the ache in your chest returns.

Your mind drifts back to what's happening at home. Aventurine and Ratio. They're probably cuddling each other right now. Or they're watching a movie together. Or maybe they are kissing each other.

The thought makes your insides twist uncomfortably.

The entire place came to view before you as a chilly breeze passes you.

You let out a tiny shiver and cross your arms, hoping that it would help protect you from the cold air.

You check your phone. How long has it been since you left? Thirty minutes? An hour? Maybe two? Should you be getting back soon?

Above all, no messages or calls.

Just a few more minutes, you convince yourself. Just a few minutes more.

You let out a frustrated sigh, burying your head into your arms for a moment. The thoughts in your mind becoming louder with each passing minute.

This was unfair. They didn't even try to contact you. Not even a word.

However, you tried to cheer yourself up, thinking that maybe they had just fallen asleep. And that they were worried about you.

…Yeah, that must be it. They are probably sleeping right now. They are probably worried sick.

You try to convince yourself that they are worried just as much as you.

How can they not care? They love you, right? They care about you, right? You've been together for so long. There's no way they suddenly don't care anymore. Right?

You push yourself up, letting out a shaky breath.

You started walking again, with slow, leisurely steps.

Not to the flat, but to the bar you once stumbled upon while exploring.

Once you reached the bar, you push open the doors, stepping into the dimly lit room. There was a soft hum of music playing in the background, and several patrons were seated at the bar or lounging in the booths.

You took a quick glance around, taking in the cozy atmosphere of the place. It seemed like a nice place to relax and think.

You made your way over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools and leaning forward on the counter.

You didn't really realise how much time you spent there, at least you weren't falling or tripping over anything as you walked back to your temporary home.

However, you did have some alcohol in your veins.

You had fun, you met new people, including a Gallagher and a Siobhan.

And now you were slowly stumbling around the streets, your mind and body fuzzy from intoxication. The alcohol had definitely taken its toll on you, dulling your senses and affecting your judgment.

As you reached your temporary home, you fumbled with the keys, trying to find the right one to unlock the door. Finally, after a few failed attempts, you manage to open the door and stumble inside.

The living room was dimly lit, with just a few lamps lit around the room. Ratio and Aventurine were nowhere to be seen, and a quick glance around confirmed that they were probably in the bedroom.

You stumble over to the couch, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. You drop down onto the cushions with a soft thump, your body feeling heavy and tired.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath as you lean back against the couch. Your head was spinning slightly from the alcohol, but despite that, your mind suddenly became more clear.

All the thoughts you've been pushing down started flooding back in, and your chest clenches painfully as you’re reminded of why you went out in the first place.

Sighing deeply, you got up from the sofa, slowly taking off your shoes.

Then you made your way to the bedroom.

There you both were, sleeping face to face.

Without thinking too much and without changing your clothes, you climbed into bed, putting yourself in the middle of both of them, trying to make some space for yourself. Being careful not to wake them up.

Ratio stirred slightly as you settled yourself beside him, his arm wrapping around your waist unconsciously. Aventurine shifted closer to you, pressing his body against yours.

You were surrounded by them, their bodies warm and familiar.

For a while, you just lay there between them, feeling the rise and fall of their breaths, listening to the soft rustling of their limbs.

You felt a strange mix of comfort and pain at being here. Comforted by their presence, pained by how distant they felt.

You were tired, both physically and emotionally. Your body ached from the alcohol, and your heart ached with something else.

Lying there, between the two men you loved, you felt more alone than ever.

But, oh, the warmth they radiated made your eyes glaze over.

They were so close, yet so far away.

They clutched onto you, as if they needed you, but they didn't?

You couldn't help but watch them as they slept, Ratio's arm wrapped firmly around your waist, Aventurine's head resting on your shoulder.

Everything felt so familiar, yet so… distant.

Were you overthinking things? Were you making a big deal out of this?

They love you… right?

You watch as Ratio mumbled something in his sleep, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the action, a strange mix of warmth and pain coursing through your body.

You knew you shouldn't be feeling like this. You shouldn't be doubting their love for you. They've been with you for so long, they've said they love you so many times.

But still, the doubts linger in your mind, whispering and gnawing at your heart.

Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was just your own insecurities, but you suddenly felt the urge to cry.

Maybe it was just the alcohol.

You opened your eyes slowly, almost as if you didn't want to wake up from your warm and peaceful sleep.

You found yourself lying on your back, your head resting on a firm yet comfy pillow. There was a comforting pressure on both sides of your waist, holding you carefully but firmly in place.

As you opened your eyes more, you realized that you weren't alone in bed. Ratio and Aventurine's bodies were pressed against yours from both sides, their limbs tangled with yours in a way that you were completely encircled between them.

Ratio's head was resting on your shoulder, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm and slow against your skin.

Aventurine's arm was draped over your waist, his hand resting firmly but gently on your hip. His forehead was pressed against your shoulder, his messy hair tickling your face.

"Morning…" Ratio mumbled groggily as you struggled in their grips, his arm tightening around your waist.

Aventurine stirred as well, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and mumbling something incoherent.

You could feel the warmth of their breath against your skin, the way their bodies were still pressed against yours with no signs of moving.

You groaned again, feeling like you were trapped in a warm, loving cage.

But despite the comfort, you felt frustrated.

"Stop…" You muttered, trying to push them off.

The two men responded with mumbled protests, their grips on your waist only getting tighter.

"Come on guys, you have work to do." You spoke, tiredly.

They both grumbled, starting to let go of you little by little.

"No offense," Ratio mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep, "But you smell like alcohol. Did you drink last night?" Aventurine opened his eyes slowly, looking up at you from his spot on your shoulder.

His voice was gentle but held a hint of concern. "Yeah, where'd you go?" He asked softly, rubbing at his eyes.

Great, just great.

You could already feel the hangover creeping in, and to add to your misery, there was a hint of concern in their voices.

You tried to brush it off, giving them a small smile.

"That doesn't matter…" You mumbled, avoiding both of their gazes. "What matters is you two have work to do."

Ratio sighed, letting his grip on you loosen completely. "We do have work, but we're more concerned about you," He said, propping himself up on his elbow.

Aventurine followed, propping himself up next to Ratio and looking at you with an expression that was a mix of concern and annoyance.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. At the time they worried.

"I just needed some space." You replied, feeling like a child getting scolded, shifting slightly to try and sit up.

"Space, huh?" Aventurine said, his voice still slightly hoarse from sleep. "You could have at least told us where you were going."

Ratio chimed in as well, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. "Yeah, a warning would have been nice. We were worried about you."

This time you rolled your eyes quietly, but tried not to show them any obvious annoyance.

"I'm a grown adult," you retorted, a hint of defensiveness in your voice. "I can handle myself."

Ratio raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes searching your face. "That doesn't mean we're not going to worry." he said, his voice firm.

Aventurine sat up as well, propping himself up with one arm.

"It's not about you being able to handle yourself," he said, his voice a mixture of annoyance and concern. "We had no idea where you were."

Ratio nodded in agreement, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Oh. When I got home, they were sleeping peacefully." You said, with a hint of bitterness.

They both exchanged glances, the annoyance in their expressions not going unnoticed by you.

Ratio sighed, running a hand through his hair once more.

"That's not the point," he said, his voice still firm. "You were gone for hours. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

Aventurine joined in as well, his voice slightly more gentle than Ratio's. "We thought something might have happened to you."

You let out a heavy sigh, not saying anything.

Aventurine's voice still laced with concern. "You could have at least texted us."

Then he reached over and touched your arm gently. "It's just… we care about you. We want to know you're safe."

You bit back the urge to scoff at the hypocrisy.

"Yeah, well… I'm fine. See?" You gestured to yourself, trying to show that you were indeed in one piece.

You could feel the guilt creeping in, mixed with annoyance. Why did they suddenly care now?

"I just needed…", you paused, trying to find the right word to describe your current feelings. "space," you finished lamely.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance before looking back at you.

"Space from what?" Ratio asked, his tone slightly colder now.

You were starting to feel frustrated.

Why was it suddenly such a big deal? Why did they have to make such a big issue out of you needing some time alone?

"Space from…", you started to respond, but then you hesitated.

How could you possibly explain it to them without sounding needy or clingy?

You wanted to tell them what's been bothering you, but something held you back.

Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was the fear of sounding like a needy child.

But before you could find the words, Ratio spoke up.

"Space from us, I presume." He said, his voice cool. "You needed space from us, didn't you?"

You felt a pang of guilt at Ratio's words, your heart clenching in your chest.

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but you could feel the emotions starting to bubble up inside of you.

"No," you lied, immediately. "It's not that."

Aventurine raised an eyebrow at your denial, his grip on your arm tightening slightly.

"Then what is it?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Ugh, please don't do this." You said grabbing your head. The hangover was starting to affect you harder, combining with the stress you felt now.

Ratio chuckled quietly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh, so now we're being dramatic, huh?" he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Aventurine spoke up as well, his voice tinged with irritation. "We're not doing anything, we're just trying to understand what's going on with you."

Ratio leaned back, propping himself up against the headboard.

"You've been acting different lately," he said, his gaze focused on you. "More distant, less responsive."

You wanted to protest, to deny their accusations, but the words got stuck in your throat. They were right, and you knew they were right.

But you couldn't tell them why. Not yet, at least.

"I've just… been feeling a bit stressed," you replied vaguely, avoiding their gazes.

"Come on, don't give us that bullshit."

At Aventurine's words, your eyes widened slightly. He normally didn't say that kind of thing.

However, that didn't stop you from feeling uncomfortable and with a taste of pure bitterness in your mouth.

You proceeded to let out an unfunny laugh, as you got out of bed.

"My head hurts too much for this." You said, with some coldness in your tone as you left the room.

"You two should already be continuing with your work. That's why both came here." You raised your voice so they could hear you since you were heading towards the kitchen.

As they heard your words, Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance.

Ratio ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh.

"They are so damn… infuriating," he muttered, his annoyance evident.

Aventurine nodded, his expression mirrored Ratio's frustration. "I don't even know what's going on with them," he replied, running a hand over his face. "They are been acting weird for days now."

You could hear them both stirring in the bedroom, their voices lowered, but you knew they were talking about you.

"Probably bad things.", you thought.

You rubbed your temples as you entered the kitchen, the lights feeling brighter and only making your migraine worse.

You rummaged through the cabinets, looking for a painkiller or something, when you heard footsteps behind you.

"You shouldn't mix alcohol with pain killers, y'know," Ratio's voice was low and calm, but there was an edge to it.

You paused what you were doing, looking over your shoulder at him.

Ratio's face was set in a frown, and Aventurine's expression was stern.

He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.

You didn't respond, continuing to rummage through the cabinets in search of pain medication.

Ratio watched you silently for a moment, his eyes studying your every move.

"You're being stubborn," he said after a while, his voice neutral yet laced with annoyance.

"Thanks." You responded dryly, in a murmur.

Ratio rolled his eyes at your response, his annoyance growing visible.

"You know that's not what I meant," he sighed, running a hand through his hair once more.

It was becoming a tic of his.

Aventurine spoke up as well, his voice a bit calmer than Ratio's.

"You're acting like a child." He said, crossing his arms over his chest as well.

Oh, Aeons.

You felt frustrated by their words and by the pain in your head.

You slammed the cabinet shut with more force than necessary and turned to face them.

"Both should stop wasting time here and concentrate on your work." You spat, rubbing your head with both hands, you felt like it was going to explode at any moment.

Ratio raised an eyebrow at your sudden outburst, his expression slightly surprised.

"And there it is," he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "The real Y/N, finally decided to show up."

Aventurine watched you intently, his eyes scanning your face.

"Oh, because we're wasting time by trying to check on your well-being?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aventurine stayed silent, simply observing your interaction with Ratio. He was probably trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation.

Ratio took a couple steps closer to you, his gaze not leaving yours.

"You should stop being so goddamn stubborn and just talk to us." He said, his annoyance growing more noticeable.

Oh no. You started to feel the sudden urge to vomit. That was bad.

Your expression went from irritated to slightly dizzy.

"Guys, stop it, we can continue later." You said, as you grabbed onto the kitchen counter.

The nausea was the effect of the hangover and excessive stress you were feeling now.

Ratio immediately realized something was wrong as he noticed your expression changing. His annoyance was quickly replaced by concern.

"Y/N?" he asked, taking another step towards you, his eyes watching your hand clutching the counter.

Aventurine also moved closer, his gaze shifting between you and Ratio. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the nausea that was rising in your stomach. "I'm fine," you said weakly, but your trembling voice betrayed your words.

"Maybe I need—" Your words were cut off by the urgent need to throw up, causing you to cover your mouth, running towards the bathroom.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance before following hot on your heels. They hurried into the bathroom, just in time to see you hunched over the toilet, vomiting.

Ratio gently placed a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles as you retched.

Aventurine appeared again in the doorway with a glass of water in hand.

"Here," Ratio said, grabbing the water from Aventurine and handing it to you. "Drink slowly."

You gripped the glass of water with trembling fingers, taking a few small sips as Ratio instructed. The cool liquid helped to soothe your burning throat.

After a while, your vomiting subsided, leaving you feeling even more weak and tired than before. You slumped back against Ratio, feeling completely drained and miserable.

"Sorry," you whispered, your voice raspy and weak.

Ratio shook his head, his hand still rubbing slow circles on your back. "Don't apologize," he said softly.

By the time you turned to look at Aventurine, he was gone.

You did the same to see Ratio who was next to you, he wasn't there either.

Oh, right. They were never here with you, they stayed in the kitchen. You never drank water, you never had your back rubbed.

You really wondered what the hell was wrong with you.

You stood up heavily from the ground, rinsing your mouth with the water from the tap, and flushing the toilet. Then with slow steps you returned to the bedroom.

You didn't care to know if they were still in the apartment.

You hated it when your body reacted to your stress.

They were engaged in hushed whispers, their voices too low for you to hear. They stayed in the kitchen, just like you thought.

When they saw you walk in the bedroom, they immediately stopped talking and turned to look at you.

Ratio's expression was a mix of concern and annoyance, his arms crossed over his chest. Aventurine, on the other hand, had a troubled look on his face, his brows furrowed in thought.

At least you would feel calm being alone in the apartment. Without showing each other affection every minute, in front of you, without giving you anything like that.

You climbed into bed, covering yourself with the covers, trying to relax.

A few minutes passed before Aventurine spoke out loud.

"Uhm, we're leaving, we'll be back soon." He said.

You heard the door open and close.

You were glad to hear the sound of the door closing behind, signaling that they were leaving. At least you could finally have some peace and quiet.

You closed your eyes and attempted to fall asleep, hoping to get some rest and recover from the hangover and the previous encounter.

You rested a little more, after a few hours you got up and tried to distract yourself.

You watched television, you played games on your phone, you ate the odd snack. That is until it got later.

While you were on the couch, you heard the door open. They had returned.

Ratio and Aventurine walked through the door, their expressions serious.

Aven, as usual, was the first to speak up. "Hey."

Hey, is that all they could say? It was as if they didn't realize that they were being insensitive.

But suddenly you were doing it too, so you ignored it.

Ratio spoke up as well, his expression slightly softer. "How are you feeling?"

You shrugged, not meeting their gaze. "Good." You replied coldly, trying to hide your annoyance.

Aventurine gave you a quick glance before sighing. "We brought food." He said, holding up a bag containing takeout food.

"Oh, uhm." You blurted out, feeling uncomfortable.

"Thank you, but I'm not very hungry." You got up from the couch, leaving the television on, while you stretched.

"I'm going out for a while again." You said, walking into the bedroom, and changing out of your sleepwear into something simple.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance as you left to change. They were both aware of the tension in the air and your mood.

Ratio let out a sigh.

"This is hopeless," he muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Aventurine looked at Ratio, understanding his frustration.

"We just have to keep trying," he replied, though his voice had a tinge of uncertainty.

You left the room, going to put on your shoes, passing them.

"Well, I'll be right back." You said calmly.

Ratio couldn't help but roll his eyes at your words.

"Yeah, we'll see about that." He muttered under his breath. Aventurine gave him a stern look, silently warning him not to push things further. They both knew that this situation was quickly becoming a headache for all three of you.

You finished putting your shoes on and grabbed your keys, leaving the house without saying another word.

They watched as you closed the door behind you. The silence in the apartment became thick and uncomfortable. The television was on, being the only sound that could be heard.

This type of situation happened, once, twice, three times. And more.

A little routine of yours, like you try not to be in the apartment when they are there too.

Waking up tired and dizzy, saying cold and boring words between the three of them, waiting for hours for them to return and once they did, you went to the bar, returning hours later, tripping over things in the apartment, falling asleep on the couch or in bed.

And it was repeated, again.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

The cycle seemed endless, caught in a loop that seemed impossible to break.

Ratio and Aventurine were frustrated, frustrated by the walls you had built around yourself and the communication issues that prevented you from opening up.

They wanted to help you, but they didn't know how to approach the situation. They couldn't help but feel like they were doing something wrong.

But no, that couldn't be, they knew they weren't doing anything wrong. Right?

Ratio and Aventurine sat in silence for a while, both lost in thought. They knew they needed to address the situation, but it was hard, especially since you were avoiding them.

"I hate this," Ratio finally spoke up, breaking the silence. "I hate that they are behaving like this."

Aventurine nodded, a frustrated expression on his face. "I know." He said, holding Ratio's hand.

It was already nearing midnight, and there was no sign of you returning home, again.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and frustration. They had been talking about you, again.

This time they would wait for you, they were not going to rest until they could talk to you once and for all and stop making you avoid the conversation.

"I feel like we're going around in circles." Ratio spoke up again. "Every time we try to talk to them, they shuts us out. It's like they are not even trying."

Aventurine squeezed Ratio's hand, trying to comfort him. "There must be a reason why they are acting like this," he said, although even he seemed doubtful.

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Is there? Because I can't think of one that makes sense."

They waited, and waited, and waited.

Time dragged on slowly, tick, tock, tick, tock, the clock seemed to move slower every second.

They waited with anticipation and expectation, sitting motionless on the couch, their eyes fixed on the front door.

And then, finally, they heard the jingle of keys, the sound of the door opening, and your footsteps entering.

Ratio and Aventurine immediately sat up straight, turning to look at you as you stepped inside.

As a matter of course, you were drunk.

Ratio and Aventurine couldn't help but notice the way you swayed slightly as you walked, a slight flush on your cheeks betraying your intoxication.

Ratio let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you. "Where have you been all night?" he asked, his voice betraying his annoyance.

Aventurine, sensing the tension in the room, stayed silent but placed a calming hand on Ratio's arm, hoping to soothe the situation.

"Having fun." You said, smiling a little.

Ratio's eyes narrowed at your response. "Having fun? Is that what you call it? Drinking yourself into oblivion every day?"

Aventurine shot Ratio a look, silently urging him to calm down. Him speaking this time.

"We're worried about you, you know that?" he continued, his voice rising. "We—"

"Hah, like you said—don't give me that bullshit." Your voice came out almost with spit words.

Your mind was fuzzy.

Ratio clenched his fists, his irritation growing. "We're not giving you bullshit. We care about you, damnit."

You chuckled bitterly, your words slurring slightly. "Yeah, I'm sure you care, but only when it suits you both."

Ratio's eyes widened at your response, his anger rising. "Excuse me?"

"We're the ones who should be getting pissed off here. You're the one who's been acting like a complete mess."

Aventurine tried to interject again. "Ratio, this isn't—"

But Ratio wasn't having it. "No, Aven. They needs to hear this." He turned back to you. "You've been avoiding us, avoiding everything, and for what? So you can go get drunk every night?"

"Yeah, exactly. Because being around you two is so damn great." You retorted, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

Ratio's expression darkened even further, his next words cutting through the air like a dagger.

"Oh, is that right? I guess being with us is so unbearable that you have to go out and get drunk every night instead of staying here and facing your own damn problems."

Your eyes narrowed at Ratio's words, your own anger starting to boil over.

"Yeah, because it's better than dealing with your bullshit all the time."

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Bullshit? You think we're bullshitting you? We're the ones who've been putting up with your crap, your avoiding us, your reckless behavior."

Your eyes widened at Ratio's harsh words, hurt flashing across your face.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," you said angrily, your voice shaking. "You have no idea how I feel."

Ratio scoffed, his irritation reaching a boiling point. "Oh, really? Then why don't you enlighten us? Why do you feel the need to drink every night?"

"Seriously, you can tell us." Aventurine said, his brow now furrowed, a mix of worry and frustration on his face.

You let out a scoff, your words coming out in a rush. "And what, you want me to spill my heart out to you two, like it's some kind of therapy session? I didn't realize I was dealing with a couple of psychologists here."

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Well, it's not like you're giving us anything else to work with. You just keep drinking yourself into oblivion every night, avoiding us, avoiding any kind of conversation."

You clenched your fists, your frustration turning into anger. "Oh, aren't both of you so perfect?"

Ratio's expression hardened. "Don't try to turn this around on us. We never said we were perfect, but at least we're trying to communicate and have a conversation. You're the one who's refusing to listen or talk to us."

Aventurine interjected, his voice laced with concern. "Y/N, please. We just want to help you. We don't—"

"Help me?" You snapped, again cutting Aventurine off.

"Hey, watch your tone." Ratio said, at the shout you gave to Aventurine.

"Hah, just that.", You thought, looking at them with anger and irritation.

Your anger flared, your words coming out in a frustrated hiss. "Oh, and I'm supposed to believe that you really want to help me? Please. You're both probably just worried that I'm gonna ruin your perfect little lives."

Ratio's eyes widened at your accusation, stung by your words. "Is that really what you think of us? That we only care about ourselves?"

Aventurine spoke up again, his voice pleading. "No, that's not true at all. We care about you. We care about us."

"Yeah, right." You replied bitterly, crossing your arms.

Ratio's face twisted into a scowl. "We're just as messed up as you are. We have our own issues and problems to deal with. We don't need you acting like this, avoiding us, drinking excessively—"

"Yeah, because I'm the ONLY ONE who's being problematic, right?" You interrupted, sarcasm lacing your words. "Just because I don't sit next to both of you and start to fucking endure how both are so loving and happy between ONLY the two of you, I'm wrong here, huh?"

Ratio's jaw clenched tightly, his temper rising at your accusations.

"That's bullshit and you know it. We're a team, a relationship. We're supposed to be in this together, working through things together."

You felt the growing lump in your throat. "Fuck, no. We're not a team anymore, it's just you being a fucking couple."

You clenched your fists, trying to calm the wave of emotions that was washing over you.

Ratio's expression hardened at your words, his own emotions warring with his irritation.

"What the hell do you mean we're not a team anymore? We're still together, we're still—"

You cut him off, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "No, we're not. Not really. Not when you both spend all your time together, sharing moments, laughing, even in sex."

Ratio's eyes widened at your words, hurt evident on his face.

"Is that really what you think?" he asked, his voice low. "That we're just a couple and that you're not a part of us anymore?"

Aventurine's face fell, his expression pained. "No, that's not true. You're just as much a part of this relationship as we are."

"I'm just a third wheel," you said bitterly. "That's what I've always been."

Even though your words affected them, Ratio couldn't help but get more frustrated.

"And whose fault is that, huh? Whose fault is it that you keep pushing us away, that you keep avoiding us, that you keep getting drunk every damn night instead of dealing with the problem?"

You clenched your fists even tighter, your nails digging into your palms.

"Oh, so now it's MY fault, huh? It's MY fault that I feel left out, ignored, and sidelined?"

You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry at what he was saying.

"Yeah…maybe it's my fault." You spoke again, feeling your eyes sting. At any moment they would be filled with tears.

"It's my damn fault that both have sex secretly from me, it's my fault that both knew each other before, it's my fault that both are more affectionate with each other, it's my damn fault that both know each other much more than you two know me!"

And that's it, with that, your voice cut off. Being unable to see both men's faces as tears clouded your vision.

Ratio's expression softened at the sight of your tears, his irritation momentarily forgotten.

It was true, he and Aventurine had been more affectionate with each other lately. But that wasn't because they didn't care about you, it was just…

No, there really were no words to deny or defend the accusations.

He sighed, trying to find the words to explain themselves. "Look, we didn't mean for it to be like that. It just happened."

Aventurine spoke up, his voice soft. "We never wanted you to feel left out or ignored. We care about you, we really do."

Ratio stepped closer as well, his expression conflicted between anger and concern. "Y/N, we never wanted you to feel left out. That was never our intention."

But your emotions were running high.

"Then what was your intention, huh? To make me feel like an outsider in my own relationship?"

They both stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to that.

"That is what I thought." You blurted out, in frustration.

Ratio pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression shifting to frustration and guilt.

"That's not what we wanted, that's never what we wanted."

You let out a bitter, unfunny laugh, "Oh, shut it."

You were shaking, you really wanted to just not feel like that.

"It's always you two. Always Aventurine and Ratio. Always Kakavasha and Veritas."

"Fuck all that." You spat, as your tears began to come out like waterfalls.

"Where the hell was I there?" You sobbed, covering your face with both hands. You felt humiliated to be seen crying like that.

"I hate it so much." You mumbled, without a hint of stopping your crying.

Ratio's heart ached at the sight of your tears, realizing the depth of your emotional pain.

Aventurine stood beside him, visibly upset as well.

"Y/N, please…" He tried to reach out to you, his hand hovering in the air.

But you flinched away from his touch, your body shrinking back as more tears streamed down your face.

"Don't." You warned, your voice choked with sobs. "Don't touch me."

Ratio and Aventurine stood there, feeling helpless as they watched you cry.

"We never wanted to make you feel like this."

"You're lying." You retorted, your voice raw from crying.

Aventurine shook his head, his expression pleading. "No, that's not true. We love you, we truly do."

Ratio's hands were shaking slightly, torn between wanting to comfort you and respecting your wish not to be touched.

Aventurine looked like he was on the verge of tears as well, his shoulders slumped with guilt.

Ratio said softly. "We never meant for it to be this way."

But your words cut through the air between you all.

"Then why did it happen?" You asked, your voice laced with pain and anguish.

Ratio's jaw clenched as he struggled to find the words to explain.

"It just…happened." He said weakly. "We got caught up in our own relationship and didn't realize that we were neglecting you."

Aventurine nodded alongside him. "We messed up. We should have paid more attention to you, made more of an effort to include you in our activities."

Ratio winced, knowing how hollow those words sounded.

"But just because we made a mistake doesn't mean we don't care about you." Ratio was quick to add.

You let out a bitter chuckle through sniffles and sobs.

"…That 'mistake' is 3 fucking years old." You spoke in a muffled manner. Breathing heavily.

How they left you aside is not recent, it had been years. The bomb was accumulating until today it exploded.

The reality of the situation hit Ratio and Aventurine hard.

Three years. Three years of ignoring your emotions and needs. Three years of putting their own relationship before you, despite claiming that you were all equal in this relationship.

Both felt a pang of guilt and shame in their chest. How could they have let it go on for so long without realizing the harm they were causing you?

Aventurine looked equally devastated, his face pale and his eyes downcast.

"We…we never realized…" He began, his voice choked with emotion.

Ratio, seeing Aventurine's almost tearful state, rubbed his back slowly.

Ratio's head was spinning, trying to figure out how it had come to this. They had always thought that they were in a healthy and happy relationship. But clearly, they had failed to consider the impact their actions were having on you.

He looked at you, still crying and curled up on yourself. The guilt and remorse gnawed at his insides. He and Aventurine had been fools, blinded by their own selfishness and neglectful behavior.

Aventurine spoke up suddenly, his voice shaky. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell us how you felt?"

Ratio's eyes widened slightly. That was a fair question. Why hadn't you spoken up before now?

But he immediately realized the answer to that question. If you had tried to bring it up, how would they have reacted? Would they have dismissed your feelings, or maybe gotten defensive?

With your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body trying to catch the air lost through crying, you let out slight hiccups.

With one of your hands you wiped your wet cheeks.

Your head was beginning to ache from the alcohol in your veins and the dehydration from crying.

"Ah…it doesn't really matter anymore." You said, your voice hoarse.

And you were right, there was no point in questioning why, if you'd finished getting everything out that you'd been holding in for so long.

You felt their worried and trembling looks, you felt ashamed and humiliated for having exploded in such a way, your sobs had faded into sniffles and deep breathing.

They both listened to your words with a sinking feeling in their stomachs. Your voice was hoarse and strained, but the message was clear: you'd given up.

You stretched slightly in your seat, starting to walk towards the bedroom.

You wanted to simply rest from it all.

"I'm going to go to sleep now." You said, passing by both of their sides.

The conversation, or rather argument, had not ended well and just expressing yourself left you completely exhausted.

They both knew that they hadn't solved anything, that they'd done nothing more than reveal just how distant they had become from you.

Before you disappeared from his sight, Aven called out to you, making you turn around for a while.

"We love you, sweetheart."

That simple phrase made you let out a silent sigh.

As much as you wanted to smile at least a little, it only came out as a grimace.

"Uhm…okay, I guess." You said, not really feeling his words.

They felt totally empty.

You turned your head again, walking into the bedroom. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts were varying, the same with your feelings, they were all jumbled.

But at least one thing was clear to you; trios never work and never will.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr angst #hsr aventurine #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #hsr x you #dr. ratio x you #dr ratio angst #dr. ratio x reader #hsr veritas #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio #veritas x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x aventurine #dr ratio x you #dr ratio x y/n #polyamory #polyamorous #aventurine x reader #aventio #hsr #aventurine angst #aventurine x you #angst no comfort #star rail aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail

[azsazz]

Tethered

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Trying a little something different here...not sure how I'm going to explain it yet, but this fic is more of a fantasy aspect than my other fics.

Warnings: Mentions of burns and death.

Word Count: 3,569

_________________________________________

Pain.

The first thing you recognize when you come to is pain. That, and the darkness.

It consumes you from all angles, a darkness so deep and ancient it feels otherworldly. It coils around you like a frightened snake, smothering what little air you’re able to choke down. You blink once, twice, to attempt to clear your vision, but the black coating the space around you doesn’t so much as shift.

It’s how you know you’re in deep shit.

A sharp pounding pierces your skull, preventing you from shoving your shaky arms beneath your aching body and pushing to your feet. The feeling is worse than that of any wound bestowed upon you up until this point. Not even the King of Hel’s rigorous training or your mother’s disappearance had been so painful.

There’s a gnawing so deeply in your bones that you wonder if the feeling has always been with you, if you’ve somehow become accustomed to the feeling of your body screaming in agony.

Growing up in Hel, you should be used to such things.

Sunbursts spot your vision, the bleeding eclipses warring with the darkness. You hold your breath for a beat or two, trying to force your pulsing heart to calm. Exhaling slowly doesn’t help, only forces your breathing to become shakier.

It’s eerily silent, save for your panting breath. The screams of agony still ring in your ears, the King of Hel’s malicious laugh accompanying them as he splays himself across his throne, grinning at the two maidens sat in his lap.

As you scramble to gather your bearings, you wrack your muddled mind for where you might be and how you survived. You take inventory of as much as you’re able—the sharp flares of pain in your ribs, jagged and harsh with each inhale and exhale you take, and there’s a ringing in your ears that gives even the wailing spirits of Hel a run for their coin.

Hel. The last thing you remember was standing before your King, the sovereign of the underworld. He’d smirked down at you from his throne made of obsidian and bones, towering over not only you, but the entirety of Hel itself. The wicked curve of his lips and piercing dark eyes had only forced you down to your knees by looks alone.

You had not wanted to meet the gaze of your ruler, always hated his attention on you, but as one of his favored, you were often in his presence. Forced into doing his dirty work because of what you were born into, powers that were unlike anything in either Hel nor Haven, a one-of-a-kind ability he sought to take advantage of.

Your glittering quiver had been strapped across your back, and the image comes back to you vividly—clutching the grip of your bow as the King sealed your bargain with a red-hot hand to your skin and a wicked grin on his face.

A shuddering inhale makes your nose scrunch. You can still smell the remnants of your burning flesh beneath his palm.

You had nearly passed out from the pain. Maybe you did, because no matter how much you furrow your brows and wrack your brain, you can’t seem to figure out how you ended up where you are now, face down on the cold, hard ground.

Reaching out blindly for the bow that’s fallen from your fingers, you groan, the long sleeve of the silky white shirt you don beneath your armor brushes against the sensitive mark on your forearm. Your fingers creak as you uncurl them, rubble and debris scratching against your hand, burying deep beneath your nails as you search for your weapon.

The lightweight of your quiver is comfortable at your back. You choke down a shuddering groan as you lift your wings, biting your lip at the tenderness you feel at your back. They seem to be in one piece, as you twist them this way and that, only throbbing dully with bruises. Creatures of all sorts could be lining the darkness surrounding you, and you understand that you’re taking too long to rise, the shadows and nightmares of The Void keeping you off balance.

The King must have had one of his goons throw your hardly-conscious body into The Void after your bargain sealed. That’s how you ended up here. A spine cracking shudder makes bumps rise on your skin as your body stills.

Stories of The Void come rushing to you, and if you try hard enough, you can smell the lingering scents of the other worlds’—a smoldering smoke as black as The Void surrounds you, cloying your throat in thick waves as if trying to choke you, brand you with the reminder of where you are to return to. Cutting through the utter wickedness is the sharp perfume of something other, a fresh breeze lined with citrus that must be a figment of your imagination because there is no scent like that in Hel, nor breeze in The Void. It simply is.

It must be Haven, you decide. You only recognize the heavens from stories trickled down through the rift of worlds, from picturesque stories and secrets in shadow.

You haven’t known anything other than Hel. You cannot recall your father, hardly any of your mother, nor how you ended up in the King’s care. All you remember from your earliest memories are the soothing tones of your mother when you were young and scared, calming you in her arms before you ended up with the King, and the gleaming bow you never go without.

Forged by a millennia-old weapons-master, you’d been gifted the very weapon you seek now. No one knows how it had gotten to her—not even the King himself—only that the exquisite piece had come from the best battlement blacksmith Hel had to offer. You were no older than eight, eyes rounded with wonder at the sight of the gleaming gold bow settled on your bed, matching quiver and arrows accompanying it.

You shove the thoughts away. Your heart leaps into your throat the longer you search for your weapon. The pain zipping up your body help to focus you, and the strain threatens to give out as your fingers finally find the familiar metal grip of your bow. You hold on tightly and drag it to you, feeling the weapon for signs of damage.

Your bow soothes you as you trace your fingers across the solid gold riser. You know this weapon better than you know yourself. You could be blind and know the inside outs of your beloved weapon, like you are now, vision clouded with black as your fingers slide down the string, taut and flexible as ever.

Once you’re satisfied with the condition of your bow, you attempt to rise. The thick robes you’re clothed in had broken none of the fall. They’re heavy against your body as you struggle to gain your footing, stretching your wings wide to balance. The fabric brushes against your wound and you bite back a yelp at the pain that burns through you like a wildfire.

You had thought that without parents or a family to lose there would be nothing for the King to hold over your head, to force you into his tricks and deals, for him to rip away for his enjoyment, but the wretched ruler always found a way. You clenched your teeth so hard that you thought they would crack as you were forced to your knees before him, glaring daggers up at the beautiful ruler while he only grinned like a wolf, licking over those sharpened canines like he was out for your blood. Again.

He hadn’t let you agree to the terms of your bargain until you screamed.

Shoving to your feet, you splay your arms wide for balance. The harsh ground offered no grip beneath your boots and the blackness does little to help you stay stable. You try to keep your breathing calm when it sharpens as you look around. There’s nothing but the darkness and yourself, not a pinprick of light to guide you nor a sound to be heard. Not even your own thick-soled shoes make noise as you test a step forward.

The silence doesn’t break and the prowling creatures that reside in The Void don’t stir. Beings of nightmares, you’d been told when you were only a child and before your mother was taken from you. Your imagination couldn’t be sated when you were young, always begging for more and more stories of the world outside of Hel, questioning why you weren’t allowed to go anywhere else.

You hated the fires and heat of Hel, always burning a spot in your mind or your skin. You craved more, to see the open sky instead of storming clouds of thick smoke that perpetually covered Hel in charcoal waves. You yearned to see the stars and the moon and the heavens of Haven, with their buttery sunrises and dreamy dusks.

Your mother’s face is a long-forgotten memory, but the stories she told are not. Tales of animals and creatures so large, fit with razor-sharp teeth and glowing eyes stalking around The Void, monstrosities that not even the King of Hel could conjure.

Okay, you remind yourself, shaking the worry from your head. It’s time to make a move.

You’re sitting prey if you don’t. The feathers are a familiar comfort brushing your fingertips as you reach over your shoulder, sliding a singular arrow from the quiver with ease. The gold tipped point sings as it’s unsheathed from its home at your back and you notch it in the bowstring with controlled practice. It’s a motion that keeps your hands from shaking and soothes your breathing, a warrior at the ready, should any of the nightmare’s attack.

As you move, you realize that making your way through the darkness is no easy feat. Not a sound to guide your way nor a flicker of a torch to assess your surroundings. There is only darkness and silence and it beats at you with each tentative step you take. Slow progress is still progress, you try to remind yourself, but you can’t help but feel as if you’re talking in circles, the maze of shadows spinning your sense of direction, offering no reprieve.

Even the scents of Hel and Haven have faded, though you feel better about the former washing from your senses. If only the perfumed scent of Haven remained—you’d gladly follow the trail right up to the heavens, King of Hel be damned.

It had once been a dream to see Haven in all of its glory…before you realized that there was no escaping Hel, no escaping the King and his sinful grins and wicked games.

A sound forces her to still, limbs locking up before you force yourself to steady your stance and take aim, squinting through the black. Your pointed ears perk as you listen intently, not daring even a shallow breath. A soft noise sounds, like a cloth brushing across glass. It’s fleeting, morphing all too quickly into a screeching, grating noise that reverberates in your bones. Talons. They. Sound so similar to those of the King’s hounds giving chase down the long halls of his palace that there is no doubt in your mind the creature stalking you could shred you limb from limb.

The noise ricochets against the hard ground of The Void, echoing off of the nothingness that surrounds you. It makes your head spin, torso twisting to follow the movement as you search desperately. For the source.

Standing frozen, boy taut as you strain to glimpse any sign of where the lurking creature may be, a barely recognizable purr accompanies the grinding claws. With the darkness of The Void swallowing all movement, it feels as if the noises are consuming you, echoing in all directions and baffling your sense further.

Glowing, white eyes blink open, startling you. Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you jump, tightening your grip on your weapon and swinging it in the direction of the lurking beast, the tip of your arrow aimed right between those bright eyes.

You don’t dare more, though the smart thing to do would be to release the sharp-tipped arrow the beast’s way, but the creature doesn’t move. It blinks slowly, sleepily at you with its gleaming eyes, staring at you as if it’s curious instead of the horrifying nightmare the King and others had warned you about.

You curse silently as it stands. You’re pinned by those unnervingly bright. Eyes as it bounds closer. A reflection of what you’ve heard the moon looks like lies within its stare, though you don’t think the creature has seen the luminous beacon in the sky either. In the low light reflecting from its gaze, you catch sight of the sharp teeth as the nightmare licks its maw, and the pointed talons that clack against the stone ground as it closes in on you.

You could run. You can turn around and spring through the darkness for your life, pray to Haven that you don’t trip over a worse dark-dwelling beast, but with the deep ache in your bones you know that you won’t make it far fast enough.

The King of Hel hadn’t been lying when he taunted you with how terrifying these beasts could be.

You wonder for a fleeting moment if the ruler of Hel even expected you to make it out of The Void.

Heart racing in your chest, for the first time since you’ve mastered your bow, your fingers tremble around the taut string. You can let lose an arrow between its glowing hot eyes. There’s no falter in your aim, even with the miniscule shake. If you will it, your arrow will strike true.

The prowling beast halts only meters from you. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest and the beast must be able to hear it beating against your golden breastplate from the way that it cocks its head and blinks up at you. It nearly reaches your chest and you swallow harshly, knowing that one wrong move will have the beast snapping at you. You hardly breathe as lips curl away from blade-sharp teeth that glint in the glow of its blinding eyes.

There are only a handful of seconds to decide your next move—to bare your own teeth and show the creature what you’re made of, firing the gold-tipped arrow, or stand down and hope that the predator does the same.

One breath, two, and you watch the creature lower itself onto its haunches. Your hands fall to your side in relief. The arrow is a surety in your grasp as you slowly sheath it back in place at your back. A surety that if the beast attacks, you’d be even more of a fool than the King ever claimed.

Following your movements with bright eyes, the growling of the beast falters, then quiets. It straightens, sitting taller, more menacing, and nearly meets your gaze straight on. It stares at you until your empty hand is back at your side, bargain mark throbbing as it brushes against your cloak.

You’re just as confused as the creature across from you, staring at each other like two sides of the same coin. It’s like you know the beast, seen it in your dreams or heard tales about it from your mother, but your mind is muggy, and you can’t grasp where the familiar feeling is from. You see yourself in its eyes, lost in the darkness with no light to guide you out.

As if the creature understands this, it dips its chin to study you.

Its breath is balmy against your throat and it sends shivers up your spine. Your lip’s part to gasp at the same time the creatures open to taste your scent, deciding if you’re a threat or not. The heaving breaths against your skin tickle, but there’s nothing funny about the way the creature stills, as if the raging beast wants to slash through your delicate flesh, to feel your hot blood sticky beneath its paws.

“Help me,” you dare whisper. It’s spoken as quietly as your voice allows, but the sound carries into the void as if you screamed it.

A howl answers that makes you flinch and itch to press your palms against her ears. It hadn’t come from the beast before you, who snuffs in response, its full row of teeth reappearing as its eyes narrow, staying tightly locked on you.

“Help me,” you plead, desperation clinging to your words. You need to get out of here, need to breathe the night air and see the real moon and feel its silvery rays upon your skin just once, you need to find somewhere safe so you can begin working towards what you came here for, why the bargain mark burns with every movement. Your freedom. It’s all you want from the King, from Hel, to be able to roam as you please, leaving the underworld to find something greater.

You want to remember something other than the harrowing sights of Hel, than the King’s sharp smile mocking you every time you close your eyes. The things he’s made you do, the things you’ve made yourself do. This cannot be the end.

You won’t let it be.

“I’m trying to find Velaris,” you continue when another yip joins the first. A hunting party, likely moving this way. The sounds are closer this time, but the darkness doesn’t allow you to gauge just how far they roam or how many there are. Your gaze sweeps around as if the soft light emitting from the beast’s eyes will allow you to see the others. The blackness leers in response, no longer the sinister silence but instead filled with a terrifying array of noises that will only enhance the harrowing nightmares that plague you. “I need to find the city.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle of your bow but the action does nothing to ease the worry eating at you.

Maybe it’s the raw despair in your tone or the glistening look in your eyes or the thunderous beating of your heart that makes the beast take pity on you.

Blinking up at you, the creature slinks closer, damp snout pressing into your hand. You hold back the flinch at the coldness of it, and it gives you a gentle nudge as if to say, ‘Why didn’t you say so?’

Releasing a sigh of relief, the beast allows you to press your hand to the top of its furry head as it leads you towards further darkness. The creature’s mane is soft and thick between your uneasy hold, leaving you to wonder if this being isn’t a menacing creature bred to hunt within The Void, but one that had been just as scared as you.

The howls of creatures around them die down as you’re lead through black. You don’t know if you should be breathing easier or harder when the noises die out completely, leaving your breathing and the clacking of the beasts claws against the stony ground as the only sounds as you walk.

Blinking, you are convinced your mind is playing tricks on you at first, as you begin making out different shapes. Black turns to a deep navy, then lighter until you can see silhouettes of trees and mountains beyond. The hard stone turns to soft earth laden with thick grasses reaching nearly to your knees.

The air is sharp, crisp with the oncoming scent of a storm. Your head snaps towards the sky, searching for a star, the moon, anything you can to ensure you’ve ended up in the correct place, but thick, rumbling clouds cover every inch of the star-smattered sky.

Disappointment floods your veins with ice. You’d been wishing to see for yourself since you were a child and your mother had spoken so highly of the bright splotch in the sky, and it has gnawed at you as you grew into the female you are now, proud and strong.

With a disheartened sigh, you turn to face the creature who’d been leading you through the darkness, only to find it gone. You hadn’t felt the beast slip from your grasp, entranced on the opportunity to see the beautiful night sky. It had disappeared on those stealthy paws, dipping from your hold and back into the swallowing darkness of The Void.

It looms behind you, an open, cavernous mouth that seems to creep slowly, consuming the trees and stars and sky. You wonder if it had somehow consumed the moon, if The Void is a living being all its own—a trap waiting patiently to devour what wanders into its well laid snare.

A shudder works its way up your spine as you stare. You know well that you will be back, when it is time to return to Hel with the King’s prize, and then and only then, will you have your freedom.

The word burns your skin just thinking about it. A time where you will be able to roam freely from the nightmares of Hel, doing as you please without the King there to loom and rule over you. The taste of the salty night breeze is only a tease of what you will soon have.

#azriel au #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azsazz tethered

[luvlystarr]

Could you please do a part 2 to Simon -grumpy x sunshine

Thanks so much 💕💕

.・。.・゜❃・.・❃・゜・。.

Part 1

Of course I can do a part 2! I’m really grateful that so many people enjoyed my last post! 🤍

Here’s part 2 of Ghost x Reader - Grumpy x Sunshine.

Content: Pure fluff

.・。.・゜・゜

Ghost still hates you, well, not as much.

You and the Task Force 141 were sent on another mission. Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned.

Because of an unexpected ambush, you and Ghost got separated from the rest of the team.

It seemed like the universe wasn't on your side today. Both of your radios weren't functioning even though they were perfectly fine. You tried to call for Price, Soap and Gaz but all you got was static.

On top of all of that one of the enemies managed to cut your arm with a knife.

All of which lead to your current situation. The two of you are stuck in an abandoned warehouse with broken radios while Ghost patched you up.

You were sitting on a chair while you kicked your legs back and forth, patiently waiting for Ghost to finish.

"Quit moving," he said as he glared at you. You followed his orders and stopped. He's already pissed off and you don't want to make it any worse.

"Why can't we just go out there and find them? Who knows how long we're gonna be stuck here," you huffed.

"We're waiting for Price's orders. It's dangerous to go out there blindly."

He was right, there were probably enemies lurking outside and who could easily outnumber both of you. But at the same time you can't stand being in the warehouse anymore. You wanted to get the job done and go home.

Ghost finally finished wrapping the bandage around your wound. "There, how's your arm now?" He asked.

You move your arm around slightly. "Not bad, still aches but it'll do," you shrug. "Thanks, Si."

"Should've been more careful and I told you not to call me that," Ghost sighed.

"C'mon, lighten up a bit! Let's have some fun at least." Just then an idea popped into your mind.

"How about this, where do Generals keep their armies? In their sleevies!" You laugh uncontrollably at your own joke.

Ghost hated to admit it but your joke was a little funny, even your cute laugh got to him.

He managed to hide his chuckle but that didn't go unnoticed by you.

You stared him with a shocked look on your face. At first you thought your mind playing tricks until you see his eyes squinting a little.

"Did you just laugh?! Was that a laugh?!" You exclaimed.

Luckily, his mask was able to hide the dumb smile he had on his face. "Don't know what you're talking about, that joke was stupid."

"You did laugh! I can tell you're smiling, Si!" You grinned.

He shook his head before finally caving in and letting himself laugh. His cheeks began to hurt just from how hard he was smiling.

He gently pulled your head to his chest before wrapping his arms around you. You could feel his laugh vibrating through his chest. Now you were a hundred percent sure that you weren't seeing things.

"Shut up, you're losing your mind cause of the blood loss, love," he chuckled.

Maybe he doesn’t hate your laugh as much as he thought he did.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he does love you with all his heart.

・゜・。. .・。.・゜・゜・。.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 6

@anne-bennett-cosplayer I hope this is enough time to recover from that last line. It's technically been 3 business days.

That last line was mean, and I'm sorry. So for being so mean, here's Claudia Henderson with some very tough love for Eddie.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Eddie had done some serious groveling that night. He didn’t know how he could make up for all the hell he’d put Steve through. How does one even begin to make up for a decade worth of shitty behavior?

Especially since it was clear that the one thing that would make it all worth it was if Eddie came back to Steve and he couldn’t do that. Not to Chrissy. Not when she needed him the most.

He did the only thing he could think of and talk to the people who still cared about Steve. He started with Claudia Henderson. Even though she wasn’t Steve’s birth mother, she was more his mom then that shrew ever was.

She gathered him into a hug when he showed up on her doorstep.

“I was wondering when your shadow would darken my doorway,” Claudia said, as she lead the way to the kitchen.

Eddie winced at the harsh words even if they gently given. He looked around the small house, Dustin’s mark stamped on every corner even though he had moved out long ago. But more surprisingly was Steve’s touch had found its way into the decor. And not just his photos on the wall either.

It was in the Pacers blanket on the loveseat, the baseball bat by the front door, the bright yellow pillows on the sofa. Steve was loved here and god did that make Eddie’s heart ache.

He sat down at his usual spot at the counter and watched as she bustled around the kitchen getting him cookies and glass of milk.

“Why are you even here, Eddie?” she asked in that tough but loving way she always had. “You broke his heart and then threw it away.”

Eddie took bite of the cookie to give him time to formulate an answer. “Because I know I fucked up, okay? But the only way I can see to fix it is to come back to him and I can’t do that. I can’t tell you why, just know she’s in trouble and this is the only option we have.”

Claudia let out a long sigh and leaned on the counter. “You always did know the right things to say.”

“Not when it comes to him,” he scoffed, staring down at his milk like it would give him the answers. “I keep making it worse.”

She hummed her agreement. “That’s certainly true. But I think that was more about you trying to protect your heart from getting hurt, only you ended up hurting his instead.”

Eddie just dunked his cookie without comment, because he knew she was right. It was never about Steve. It was about all the people who hated him, who strung him along until they had their fun, about his mom dying and his dad leaving, about the band deciding they just didn’t want to do it anymore.

He loved being a tattoo artist, but that wasn’t the dream.

“What would you do or tell Dusty if it was him you’d come to see after a decade apart?” Claudia asked, looking up at him.

Eddie sat back in the stool and sighed. “How much I missed him and then I would try to spend as much time with him as possible.”

“There you have it,” she said. She straightened up and knocked on the counter twice. “The bakery is closed Fridays and the carnival is in town. Why don’t you take him and get to know who he is now, all right?”

He rubbed his face and sighed again. “Yeah, if he’ll even go with me. He probably already has a hot date lined up, though.”

Claudia shook her head. “At least not that he’s told me, anyway. In fact he was lamenting that he was thinking about not going because Robin had a date, but he didn’t and he didn’t want to third wheel it.”

That was so like Steve. Instead of finding someone to go with him, like a friend or something, he would just not go. Tell them to have fun without him.

“I guess the worse that could happen is have him curse me out and hang up,” Eddie said with wry smile. “And considering I’ve already had the pleasure once, a second time isn’t going to change much.”

She lifted her chin. “Well go on, then. If you think he’s going to cuss you out, call him. I want to see this.”

Eddie stuck his tongue out at her like a petulant child. But did as he was told.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve greeted, picking up the phone almost immediately.

His heart stuttered in his chest at the old nickname. “Hey, Stevie. I hear the carnival was in town this week and wanted to see if you want to go.”

“With you? Or with a group or whatever?” Steve asked, his voice pitching a little higher than normal.

“Just me,” Eddie confirmed. “When would be good for you?” He looked up at Claudia who had the smuggest grin on her face. He stuck his tongue out at her again.

“Oh, I–um...” he stammered. “Well, I was thinking of opening the shop on Friday even though I don’t usually because I was closed on Sunday.”

Eddie winced. He had a pretty good idea why Steve’s shop was closed on Sunday. Steve had called to bitch him out on Saturday evening when the special courier delivered the annulment papers. Something the law firm had paid for so they wouldn’t lose their best legal assistant.

“But sure, I could use a proper day off for a change,” Steve was saying when Eddie’s brain finally came back on. “How about two o’clock?”

“That’d be great,” he said a small, fond smile on his face. “I can’t wait. I haven’t been to a proper carnival in years.”

“Perks of living in a small town, I guess,” Steve replied.

Eddie started playing with his hair. “One of the few. Can’t say I’m a fan of the homophobia.”

Steve laughed, bright and sweet. “Yeah, okay. You got me there. Look I’ve got to go, Robin’s giving me the stink eye and I really should get back to work.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I talk to you later.” He hung up and refused to look Claudia in the eye. He knew what he was going to see anyway. Her arms crossed over her chest and a triumphant smile on her face.

“I don’t believe I heard any cursing on that call,” she said dryly. He looked up at her and he as right about everything about how she was looking at him, only with the addition of a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah well,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. “He always was a stubborn bastard and having to prove me wrong.”

Claudia’s face crumpled a bit. Because yes, Eddie had done a lot of harm to their relationship, Steve wasn’t exactly blameless in the whole ordeal. Because Max’s situation aside, Eddie was right that ‘the kids’ had families and parents of their own. That they had people who would look out for them. And if Steve hadn’t stepped up in Max’s case, she sure as hell would have. The awkwardness between Max and Dustin be damned.

If Steve had loved Eddie as much as he claimed, he wouldn’t have tried to force the metalhead to chose between his friends and his husband.

“He is that,” she admitted gently. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you two. You were always a better person when you were together, than when you were apart. And yes, he’s struggled a lot since you left, but looking at you now, I can see that the years haven’t been kind to you either.”

Eddie huffed. “That’s what Uncle Wayne said. That I lost my sparkle or whatever.”

Claudia came around the corner and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back tight.

“Your uncle is right, sweetie,” she murmured into his hair. “We only want you to be happy and it doesn’t feel like you are. You say you’re getting married, but where’s the bounce in your step and the smile that won’t stop? Like when you and Steve had come back from a week vacation married if only in the state of Massachusetts.”

He let out a shuddering breath and then another. Soon he was just sobbing. Crying like he couldn’t stop.

Eddie had never wanted to hurt Steve and he was sure Steve felt the same about him.

She soothed him with whispered assurances and stroking his hair. Soon enough he had slowed to a hiccuping sniffle and Claudia stepped back so she could look him in the eyes.

“I have a pretty good idea what’s really going on,” she said firmly. “And you’re being really sweet, but before you do something you regret, spend time in town. Take a look at the things that have changed and all the ones that haven’t. Then decide if it’s still the right thing to do.”

He gulped. He had no doubt that she had figured it out. She was Claudia Fucking Henderson, of course she did.

“You won’t tell anyone,” Eddie asked, tears threatening to spill again, “will you?”

She shook her head. “No, your secret is safe with me. I won’t make things harder on you then they need to be.”

She hugged him again and Eddie felt like he was home for the first time in over five years.

****

“Just where are you taking me, old man?” Eddie teased. He had met his uncle for lunch after being emotionally rung out at the Henderson place.

“You need a pick me up,” Wayne said, “and I need my afternoon brownie. Come along.”

Eddie came to an abrupt stop. “Um...I’ll wait out here, then.”

Wayne looked up at the shop’s sign and then back at him. “Look, son, you’re going to have to face him eventually. Especially with you going to carnival together and all.”

Eddie dug his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and followed Wayne dutifully into the bakery.

“Hey Mr. Munson!” Steve greeted cheerfully. “You here for your usual?”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me ‘Wayne’?” he asked with a chuckle, walking up the to counter.

Steve blushed and hung his head. “I guess I’m just old fashioned.” He cleared his throat and straightened up. “So what can I get you and your shadow today?”

Wayne reared his head back and then looked over his shoulder to see Eddie hanging back, but sticking as close to him as possible.

“That’ll be two monsters, one of your apple fritters, and a half dozen of your snickerdoodles,” he said shaking his head. Then he turned to Eddie. “And what do you want?”

Eddie’s eyes nearly burst out of his head. Steve and Wayne laughed.

“I suppose I should have said ‘what else do you want?’” Wayne clarified.

Eddie blushed and peered around Wayne’s shoulder to look into the case. “A peanut butter madness, please.”

Steve’s face lit up with delight. “These are the ones Jeff’s mom was slandering with having them stale. They are so much better warm out of the oven. In fact, here!” He grabbed it out of the case and wandered to the back.

He came out a few moments later. Eddie nearly melted from the tantalizing scent of warm brownie filled the air.

“What did you do?” Eddie cried as he reached out with grabby hands.

Steve handed it to him. “Careful, it’s hot. I microwaved it for thirty seconds. Should be perfect now.”

Eddie cautious bite and moaned as soon as the peanut butter hit his mouth. He savored every bit of that first bite. “Fuck, Stevie. These should be a sin.”

Steve smiled and then got to work on the rest of Wayne’s order as Eddie devoured every inch of that brownie.

“How long are you in town for, Eds?” he asked as he handed over the boxes to Wayne.

Eddie grabbed a paper napkin from the dispenser by the register and wiped off his hands and mouth of the gooey remains.

“I’ve got to back by Monday,” he said, a tad mournfully. He never thought he’d miss this place after spending so long running from it. The town. Not the bakery. Though he had spent a lot of his time running from its owner, too.

Steve’s own smile faltered a bit too. “Not even a whole week, huh? I guess there really is no rest for the wicked.”

They chatted for a bit before more customers came in and Steve had to get back to work. Eddie and Wayne walked out of the shop laden with goodies. Steve had divided them up for Eddie and Wayne separately. Wayne handed Eddie his box.

“Now was that so terrible?” he asked with big grin.

“No.”

Because it really wasn’t. In fact it was kinda nice just chatting with Steve.

Leaving was looking more and more bleak with each passing moment.

****

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @vecnuthy @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras

8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites

9- @mac-attack19 @blondie1006

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rom com au

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

you’re taken by kyotaro sugishita…

a/n: this boy has honestly been on my mind a lot lately – nearly as much as kaji 🫠 he just seems like?? such a wholesome lover??? and like there’s just so little content on him???

wc: 1.3k

c/w: I tried to make this as gn!reader as possible, though I do write as a female so… I hope it can still be gn! fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, relationship headcanons, lots of feels y’all

৲ kyotaro sugishita falls in love slowly — and completely unawares.

৲ [lyric inspo: “why do you do this to me; why do you this so easily? you make it hard to smile because you make it hard to breathe.” — why, secondhand serenade.]

truthfully, he doesn’t exactly realize it’s happening, mostly because it’s such a slow progression; but also because he never truly stops to think about it.

there’s just little things that occur that most people (including sugishita himself) wouldn’t think twice about — such as how he used to walk a few feet behind you; but time passes and he inches closer and closer, until the point that he’s walking half-behind you and half-beside you, as if simultaneously obscuring you from the world and hogging your space to himself.

or how songs that contain more romantic lyrics start to find their way into his playlist, words of which never made sense to him that now start to resonate with him echoing around his room softly from the speaker atop his desk. sugishita doesn’t understand why he’s starting to like them, or why he starts to lean on them more after a day of interactions with you.

sugishita doesn’t think much about the way you seem to slip into his mind more often than not, random snippets of you spanning like a film reel across his lids every time he blinks. doesn’t think about the way his heart races when you look at him, talk to him, or just generally notice him. doesn’t stop to wonder why he suddenly wants to reach out and touch you at random times. it just doesn’t occur to him to.

it only starts to click for sugishita when notices the pure anger and jealousy he feels when he catches you with another guy; the way his chest aches from the strained beating of his heart, the way his jaw starts to lock up from clenching his teeth so hard, the way his hands shake from the effort of holding himself back from simply dragging you away. but by the time it clicks, it’s already too late — he’s irrefutably in love, and there’s truly no erasing the feelings that have taken root inside him.

৲ kyotaro sugishita finds it incredibly difficult to come to terms with his feelings and pursue them.

৲ [lyric inspo: “I was born to tell you ‘I love you’ — and I am torn to do what I have to to make you mine; stay with me tonight.” — your call, secondhand serenade.]

sugishita, surprisingly, doesn’t struggle for long to adjust to these newfound feelings he’s experiencing — maybe a week at most.

what he does continue to struggle with, for months even, is how to act upon them. sugishita knows what he wants; he wants you — but he doesn’t know how to make that desire of his a reality.

and he’s scared to try.

so he’ll stew for months, simultaneously basking in and pining for your warmth, heart growing fonder of you with each and every second — until eventually, it’s too full, and he has no choice but to simply soothe the aching it feels. he does so by a touch of lips, a graze really, illuminated by a setting sun and shaky from nerves.

and when you reciprocate it, he feels like he’s finally found heaven on earth.

৲ kyotaro sugishita absorbs you completely into his system, until the thought of losing you aches so deeply it feels akin to dying.

৲ [lyric inspo: “if you leave me tonight, I’ll wake up alone; don’t tell me I will make it on my own — don’t leave me tonight, this heart of stone will sink ‘til it dies.” — stay close, don’t go, secondhand serenade.]

sugishita becomes attached on a level that penetrates further than just emotional; he’s attached to you on a level that transcends even his own comprehension.

he needs you in every aspect of his life, to the point that sometimes it feels as though he can’t breathe without you there — or function on any other basic level.

this doesn’t mean that sugishita is clingy or possessive — in fact, he’s quite… distant, at times. verbalizing these intense feelings for you is nearly impossible for him; in the beginning, you’d get lucky to get a mumbled “love you, too,” when you expressed the sentiment to him.

most dates are orchestrated by you, and though sugishita always insists on paying (more so by shoving the yen on the table before you got the chance to) you often wondered if he was even enjoying himself during them.

it became a ritual to visit him in his room, but while inside, he always had music playing softly in the background whilst he did something else — he seemed to be almost reluctant to become physically engaged with you, and many a time you’d have to snuggle up next to him yourself to receive any semblance of physical affection.

of course, this kind of thing would put anyone off — barring his confession in the form of a kiss, he wasn’t really attentive or sensual with you. it confused and hurt you to no end, and after months of it, you finally snapped and confronted him.

it was the biggest fight the two of you had ever had; you were both pushed to the brink, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

and after thirty minutes of screaming at each other, you finally gave in, and with a turn of the heel announced that you were done.

sugishita fell completely silent at that — to such a level that you were unable to even leave the room like you had intended to. something about his silence was simply different, and when you turned to look at him your entire soul was rocked to its core.

you’d never seen kyotaro sugishita cry before — but there he was, slouched in the middle of his room with his face twisted into an expression of pure agony and rivers running down his cheeks. his eyes revealed so many things, such as his overwhelming desire to reach out and stop you, but his body seemed to be rooted in place — as if your words had completely chased away his ability to move.

“…don’t… go…” he’d croaked out wetly, thickly, eyes filled with so much sincere, genuine pain that it brought tears to your own. your heart ached and every bit of anger you’d felt moments prior was drowned beneath liters of pure desperation.

you’d run to him and wrapped your arms around him — and he returned the embrace, so strongly that it caught you off guard. his long arms wrapped around your body and squeezed you so tightly that it became difficult to breathe, and he buried his face into your neck and nuzzled into it. his breathing was wet and ragged against your skin, soft words falling from his lips and soaking into your entire being.

“…please, don’t go… I love you… so much… I can’t… be without you…I’ll be… better for you…”

you’d never heard sugishita say so many words before. nor had you ever felt so words so deeply, to the point that you couldn’t dredge up any doubt to their sincerity. everything sugishita said was a reflection of what he truly felt, and that was such an irrefutable fact that you knew you’d never have to doubt it again, no matter what.

it was during the reconciliation of this fight that you learned the origin of sugishita’s lack of affection; he’d been scared. not of the feelings he held for you, but of chasing you away because of them. he admitted all the times he wanted to smother you with love, but always imagined the worst case scenario — that you would feel genuinely smothered and think it’s too much.

you had assured him that he’d never make you feel that way — but the journey taken for sugishita to stop hiding this affection was long and bumpy, and full of twists and turns, but it was one that was well worth the trouble.

sugishita holds you constantly now, a hand or arm around you at all times. he talks more, too, verbalizing his affections despite it being somewhat difficult to articulate.

but there’s one thing that you’re always able to understand quite well — sugishita needs you, loves you, and can never, ever lose you.

and it’s fairly obvious that you feel the exact same way.

so I do listen to music when I write, so what do y’all think about the addition of lyrics that inspired certain headcanons/scenarios? if y’all like it I can keep it, but if not then no hard feelings! I’m good either way babes~!! I hope you enjoyed and stay sexy~!!

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #kyotaro sugishita x reader #sugishita x reader #sugishita kyotaro x reader

[astars-things]

"You promised..." with nico and Hischier daughter!Reader. The reader just wants to spend time with her dad and nico had promised that they'd have a game night but the guys ask him to come out for a drink. She comes downstairs with all of the board games and nico is ready to leave to hangout with the guys.

nico Hischier x daughter!Reader.

"You promised..." I whispered, clutching the stack of board games to my chest. My voice trembled, barely audible over the sounds of Dad rushing about in the hallway. He paused, hand frozen on the doorknob, and turned to face me. His eyes, usually warm and full of life, looked pained and conflicted.

"Y/N," he began, running a hand through his messy hair. "I know I did, but—"

"But the guys," I interrupted, a hint of bitterness seeping into my tone. "I know. You always say that."

Dad sighed, glancing down at his watch. "It's just one drink. I'll be back before you know it. We can still play when I get home."

I stared at the stack of games in my arms—Monopoly, Clue, Candy Land, and our favorite, Settlers of Catan. Each one held memories of laughter and bonding, of rare moments when it was just the two of us. Dad was always so busy, his time consumed by practices, games, and events. Nights like this, where he promised to be all mine, were precious.

"You always say that too," I muttered, more to myself than to him. But he heard it, and I saw the guilt flash across his face.

He took a step towards me, his eyes softening. "Y/N, I love spending time with you. You know that, right? It's just... the team, they rely on me too."

I bit my lip, fighting back the sting of tears. "I rely on you, Dad. You promised tonight would be our night."

He glanced at his phone, which buzzed insistently in his pocket. "I know, sweetheart. How about this—I'll text the guys, tell them I'll be late. We'll play one game, and then I'll go. Deal?"

It wasn't what I wanted, but it was better than nothing. I nodded reluctantly, setting the games down on the coffee table. "One game. But you have to let me win."

Dad laughed, a genuine, warm sound that made my heart ache a little less. "Deal," he agreed, ruffling my hair as he passed by to grab a soda from the kitchen.

We settled on the floor, the living room cozy with the soft glow of the lamps. I chose Settlers of Catan, setting up the board while Dad read through the rules, pretending like he didn't already know them by heart. It was our routine, a small ritual that made the game feel special every time.

As we played, I could see the tension slowly leaving Dad's shoulders. His phone buzzed a few times, but he ignored it, focusing entirely on the game. For those brief moments, it was like nothing else existed but the two of us and the colorful hexagons on the board.

I managed to secure a victory, Dad playfully accusing me of cheating as he handed over the win. We laughed, the room echoing with our shared joy. It was perfect, just like I’d hoped.

But then reality intruded. His phone buzzed again, more insistent this time. He glanced at the screen and sighed, the weight of responsibility settling back onto his shoulders.

"I have to go now, Y/N," he said, standing up and stretching. "But that was fun. We'll do it again soon, I promise."

I forced a smile, nodding even though I knew soon might be weeks away. "Okay, Dad. Have fun."

He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. "Love you, kiddo. I'll be back before you know it."

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. The living room felt emptier without him, the board games scattered on the table like forgotten promises. I sighed, gathering up the pieces and putting them away.

I knew Dad loved me, that he tried his best to balance everything. But sometimes, I wished his promises were more than just words. Sometimes, I wished I didn't have to share him with the rest of the world.

As I climbed the stairs to my room, I made a promise to myself: next time, I wouldn't let him leave so easily. Next time, I’d make sure our night together was too important to break.

part 2-> here

#send in requests #imagines #thanks anon! #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #Nico Hischier x daughter!reader

[literary-motif]

Hey! I really really love your writing!!<3

I was wondering if you could write a fluff of Zaros and reader. Where zaros says something extremely hurtful to reader then immediately regrets it and he starts to feel extremely bad. After that he makes it up for them, while he makes it for them reader can obviously tell that zaros has feelings for them and that he’s bad at hiding his true feelings. (I’m sorry if this isn’t clear!! I’m trying to explain my vision but idk how T-T)

Thank you!!<333

I Mean What I Say

Zaros Atha'lin x Reader

Warnings: survivor's guilt

When Zaros saw you in the garden, the corners of his lips perked up. The usual feeling of warmth in his chest at the sight of you was overshadowed by resentment.

The talk with his mother had been rather heavy. She was beyond disappointed, furious even that he fell behind in the trials now that the throne was so close. It had not been his fault, truthfully. 

He had tried his best, but it was an open secret that had him questioning the impartiality of the scholars constructing these trials that you were stronger than him, therefore beating him in physical combat, and more popular, easily securing your favor with the nobles and the people in a vote of confidence. 

Nira had been furious, telling him to do better, reminding him about how important this was both for the good of Serulla and the Atha’lin family. It hurt to know that his best was not good enough, that he was not equipped enough despite his hard work to bridge the gap years of unfair advantage had given you. 

He was desperate, the self-satisfied grin you had given him as the Serulla people cheered for you had burned a hole through his heart. What had you done to deserve their favor? He actually had ideas and plans to make life easier for them yet you had won them over with a few empty promises and forced smiles because you were the Earis and he was nothing more than a post-disgraced leech.

“Come to gloat?” he quipped, stepping up beside you. The seething rage and the feeling of injustice boiling within had turned his voice sharp. 

He knew you enjoyed watching him fail when he had been so confident in the beginning. It was a small mercy you did not outright mock him on that stage, turning him into a laughingstock for the entire kingdom.

You did not look up, instead keeping your eyes fixed on your brother’s grave.

The garden was kept in perfect condition, but not all the riches in the vaults under the castle could halt the passage of time that slowly began chiseling away his name on the stone. It had been years, but his absence still left an aching void in your chest. 

With the trials nearly completed, you could not help but wish for him to take the throne instead. It was his right, after all. No matter the days, weeks, or years you spent perfecting yourself, trying to become someone worthy of your mother’s legacy and the place he should have taken instead, you always fell short. 

You wished you had more of your brother’s kindness, more of his calmness. You wished he was here to teach you the art of subtlety, about talking for hours with someone who did not share your view on things and emerge with a compromise. You wished you had more of his charms, his carefree appearance when you knew he contemplated all his actions carefully. 

You wished he was here to cheer you on and guide you. But most of all, you wished he was here instead of you.

“I am not in the mood, Zaros,” you said bleakly. How long had it been that you were staring at the cold grave? The grass had turned humid, staining your robes and making you shiver as a gust of wind blew through the garden. 

“I wonder what he would have thought of you,” he said, deaf to your quiet melancholy. “Then again, the way I knew him, he would be ashamed of you.”

It was not like him to provoke you this harshly. His teases had always been that, with a few truths and thinly veiled resentments added here and there, but never outright mocking. But with defeat hanging over him and the taste on his tongue of the trials rigged in your favor, even Zaros could not contain himself anymore. 

Everyone had their breaking point.

“What the hell is your problem?” you spat, rising to your feet and spinning around to face him. The heavy quiet of your contemplations was broken by the fury now coursing through you. 

Zaros stared back at you, giving a low chuckle at your clenched fists and furrowed brows. “Losing control again?” he mocked, “How do you think that will look on you when you have a crown on your head? At least he” — he pointed to the grave — “knew how to keep it together and actually cared about the people!”

“And what do you suppose I do about that?” you screamed, digging your nails into your palms to suppress the need to break something. “What do you want from me? Should I go and look for a mage to bring him back? Should I summon an entity and trade my life for his? It’s not my fault he’s dead!”

“Maybe you should,” Zaros said coldly, the iciness in his voice freezing your blood and making you feel hollow. “Serulla would be better off without you, so perhaps you should look for a way to atone for the fact it was him who died and not you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but whatever venom you wanted to spit died on your tongue as Zaros’ words sunk in. You could only huff as your hands began to shake, the tightness in your throat choking you as tears blurred your vision. 

You turned before he could see them fall, leaving Zaros behind without another word. The steps you took towards the palace were measured as you tried to create the illusion of being unbothered by his cutting words. You only hoped he could not see your body trembling in the dim light. 

Zaros’ gaze did not follow you. He stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the tombstone as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. 

‘Should I summon an entity and trade my life for his?’ 

‘Maybe you should.’’

Had he really said that? He clasped a hand over his mouth, sinking to the ground in shock. Had he just told the person he loved to seek out death? His free hand grasped the grass, trying to ground himself as the world spun. What had he done?

“No— I didn’t mean it,” he muttered wide-eyed, heaving a shaking breath as waves of self-loathing washed over him. How could he have said something so cruel? What kind of person was he to let desperation and resentment guide him to say something like that?

How could he fix it? What could he possibly say to get back from that?

“I didn’t mean it,” he gasped, choking on his breath. “No, please. I didn’t mean it. Earis!” He looked up, but the garden was deserted. Of course you had gone, but where to?

‘Serulla would be better off without you.’

He needed to apologize, needed to make this right. 

Zaros got up shakily. He felt sick. What if this was it? What if he had ruined all the progress you two had made in getting closer again during the trials because he had snapped today?

“Damn the trials,” he whispered, bracing himself against the stone wall as the world kept spinning around him. Your chambers were just a few doors away. “Damn the throne. I don’t want it if it means losing you.”

He reached your door, knocking on it hurriedly. 

No answer.

“Earis?” he called. His voice sounded strange to his own ears, muffled and choked as if it came from far away. “Earis?” he tried again, louder this time.

“The Earis has gone out,” a servant said, poking their head around the corner, “the library is my best guess— Are you alright, Sarl Zaros?”

He nodded in thanks, waving a shaking hand in dismissal of the worried look. “Fine,” he answered curtly, stumbling towards the library before they could say another word. 

‘You should look for a way to atone for the fact that it was him who died and not you.’

“Earis?” he called shakily, letting the door of the library fall shut behind him. Silence was his answer. 

He leaned back, resting his head against the sturdy wood and wiping the tears from his face. He sighed, taking a deep breath and calming his racing heartbeat. If you weren’t here, he needed to—

His thoughts were interrupted by a sniffle echoing through the silence of the empty library.

“Earis,” he said softly, turning the corner to find you curled against one of the large windows. The light of the setting sun was illuminating your face in a gentle orange glow. The speck of dust in the air seemed to shine in the light, creating the illusion of warmth, when in reality the scene before him was heartbreaking. 

You did not look up at his approaching footsteps, turning your head away from him instead. “Come to gloat?” you rasped, continuing to look out.

Zaros flinched as you threw his words back at him. “No, I—” he sighed, sitting next to you on the windowsill. “I’m—”

“Save it,” you said tiredly, drawing your arms closer around you. “I don’t care. You’re right anyway. He would have been a better Regent. He would have been a better heir and it’s unfair that he can’t be.”

“It is,” he said, slowly reaching out his hand to take yours, “but his qualities don’t take away from yours. You can be a good ruler just as well. I’m sorry for what I said. I know it doesn’t change anything, but I hope you can forgive me with time. I— I was frustrated and angry. That’s no excuse for—”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, allowing Zaros’ hesitant touch against your hand.

“I could withdraw from contesting for the throne.”

“What?”

Your surprised exclamation made a small smile appear on Zaros’ face. You looked at him wide-eyed. After all the trials and all the challenges you mastered together, why would he drop out so close to the finish line?

“Consider it my gift of apology,” he said, squeezing your hand. His expression grew serious again. “In truth, we both know you’ve won. There is only one trial left and I doubt I can catch up with how far you’re leading. Additionally” — he hesitated — “I’m tired of playing my mother’s games. Whatever revenge scheme she has is slowly burying me with its weight and I— I don’t want to be the person you saw today.”

You were speechless. It sounded like a joke, but the sincerity you saw in his expression convinced you that it was true. “You’d do that for me?” you asked, searching his gaze. “You’d walk away from ruling Serulla simply to say you’re sorry?”

“I’d do anything to show you that I’m anguished at what I said to you and I am sorry. I don’t want to be someone you— someone you hate. Not anymore, not when we rekindled—”

Your hand on his cheek silenced Zaros immediately. He leaned into the touch with a soft gasp, brushing his lips against your palm. You tilted his head, leaning forward to kiss him. 

Zaros melted against you, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into him. All the tension between you seemed to melt away as he held you in his arms, your hands gently threading through his hair and making him sigh. 

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” he said as you broke apart, resting his head on your shoulder and squeezing you tighter. “I’m so sorry, believe me. I lo— I—”

You hummed, slowly nodding. “I know,” you whispered, tracing circles on his back. “I’m glad you’re alive, too.”

The sky was clear, giving you and Zaros an unobtrusive view of the constellations above. You were lying in the garden, the humid grass staining your clothes, but neither of you minded. The moment was far too precious. 

“Zaros?” you asked, raising his hand to your lips when he gave you a short grunt in response. “You’re one for revolutionary ideas, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, raising his head from your shoulder to look at you. “You know I am, my Earis.”

“Here’s a thought for you then: What happens if we talk to the Queen come morning, telling her to call off the noble trials, and we instead rule together?”

Zaros was silent for a moment. “Together as what?” he asked quietly.

“Partners for now, and if perhaps it develops into something more, then we shall pursue that as well.”

“Revolutionary indeed, my Earis. Count me in.”

#sakuverse #zsakuva #zaros atha’lin #zsakuva zaros #zaros atha’lin x reader #zaros x reader

[agentwhalesong]

One Step At A Time

Words: 1,484

Rating: not sure; contains adult topics, so Mature?

ao3 link

(Tagging @today-in-fic)

--------------------

She’d only given in because she was lonely.

Their relationship was weird these days; conversation was never an option. It was just sex, rough sex, against the wall, onto office tables or bent over the back of his couch. Their couch. No, his couch. Her mind used to discern things better when there was only anger in the air, when he wouldn’t accept a single touch of her hand on his. She couldn’t even tell when that anger turned into some sort of addictive lust or who started it all, but now here they were, in a limbo of loveless, hot sex whenever they saw each other.

Was it really loveless though?

His arms around her stomach as he kept on spooning her didn’t indicate so.

Maybe he just forgot they shouldn’t be like this, that two months ago she had built a wall between them by saying ‘no more’ as she rolled her skirt back down her legs and hid her tears.

So yes, she’d only given in this time because she was lonely, not because they had never fallen out of love with each other, even in their darkest days.

She wasn’t supposed to have stayed though. This road was headed to mess town and she wasn’t ready for mess yet. What she didn’t realize — at least not completely — was that she’d long arrived in mess town and was almost a permanent citizen.

Her hand was still over his, stroking it absentmindedly as thoughts ran through her mind at warping speed. Old habits die hard; some old habits never truly die.

Slowly, she unwrapped herself from his arms, not sure if he had woken or not. It didn’t matter anyway.

She picked up her clothes and walked to the bathroom they had once shared, but that she was seeing for the first time in more than a year. As she closed the door behind her, her heart stopped. Her old toothbrush, the one she had forgotten to take when she moved out, was right there in the toothbrush holder, as if untouched.

What was she supposed to think of it? He couldn’t possibly not have seen it. It was next to his, next to the tube of toothpaste squeezed right in the middle — something she had never been able to change in him. Maybe that was the problem, she had tried to change him too much.

She sighed. All these emotions didn’t belong here, in her mind, in his house, in their house, in her more-than-one-year-old toothbrush. Why now? Why had she given in?

It had been the first time they had actually talked; it was why she had given in. It hadn’t been small talk that always led to sex for some unexplained reason. It had been a simple, but meaningful conversation about life and losing time and getting old that had dissolved all of her determination and made her take his hand and follow him upstairs.

“Scully, are you okay in there?” came his muffled voice from outside the bathroom.

It was only then that she realized she had been staring at their toothbrushes for many more minutes than she should have.

She opened her mouth to say ‘yes, I’m fine’, but what got out was completely different.

“Why is my toothbrush still here?”

She heard him sigh, but he didn’t speak.

He didn’t want to answer, that was fine. Why should he? Why had she asked that stupid question anyway? Maybe it wasn’t even her toothbrush, but somebody else’s. Truth was that she didn’t know if there was somebody else. She never thought to ask.

“Can I come in?” he finally asked.

Her reply came in a whisper, but he heard her.

Although she didn’t turn around when he entered, their eyes locked through the mirror.

“I wasn’t expecting you would see it,” he said quietly. “I left it there as a reminder.”

“A reminder?”

“That you left. At the time I just needed to feed my anger and that was the only thing you didn’t take with you. I used to look at it and curse myself, sometimes curse you.”

She averted her gaze to her own reflection, saw her own eyes watering as her heart raced and ached. He continued.

“I threw it away once, that time when you came to check on me and we had sex for the first time before… this, whatever this is, started. I was angry that you seemed to regret what we’d just done, so I threw it in the trash can. I picked it up again a couple of hours later, though.”

“Why?” she asked, not hiding her tears anymore and looking at his eyes through the mirror again. “If this is so painful to you, why do you keep on holding on?”

She knew the question wasn’t about him and her toothbrush, but about him and her, about their inability to let each other go for good. He knew it too.

“Because at some point it stopped hurting. It became hope.”

His words hit deep, crushing her facade at once.

“Damn you, Mulder! You need to stop doing this to me!”

Her exclamation, although said in a low voice, made her body react. She lowered her head, supported herself with her hands on the sink, allowed herself to weep.

She felt his hands gently grab her hair from around her neck and turn it into a sort of low ponytail, before letting it fall on her back, away from her tears.

“I’m sorry I made you break your promise of not sleeping with me again. I’ll leave you alone from now on.” He turned around, but she couldn’t let him go.

“Please, don’t.”

He stopped by the door, turned his body only half around, while she turned completely and walked to him.

Her arms went around his waist so quickly that it took him a while to hug her back. But when he did, it felt like nothing else mattered.

She couldn’t say how long they just stood there in that position or when her tears subsided. She just knew that at some point he whispered against her hair, uncomplicated words for a complex relationship.

 “Let’s just go to bed and pretend it’s like old times”.

She let herself be carried and then cuddled, despite her mind shouting that she should just go home. They had sex once more — a first since chaos started to reign — and that made it incredibly difficult to obey the voices in her head.

She ended up staying through the night because, in the end, they weren’t pretending it was like old times. For once, they were in the present, not trying to retrieve what had been lost. They were the Scully and Mulder who didn’t know exactly how to deal with everything, but also the Scully and Mulder who were at least trying — no matter how unconventional their way of trying was.

She woke up before him the following morning, and when he opened his eyes she was already half dressed. His hoarse voice was what made her look over her shoulder and then turn to face him.

“I thought you were going to stay at least for breakfast”

She shook her head slightly.

“That is not who we are anymore, is it?”

He shook his head slightly also, and then closed his eyes. If falling asleep again or just lost in thoughts, she couldn’t tell.

She was already putting on her shoes when he suddenly broke the silence.

“Who are we now?”

She sighed, not sure what to say, and then sat on a spot beside him on the bed.

“I think we are trying to figure that out.”

She wanted to tell him all the feelings that were stirring her insides, that last night had been sweet and sad and something else, maybe a sparkle of forgiveness from both sides. Instead, she just put her hand over his and stroked it a little, wordlessly.

Then she stood up and headed for the door, already expecting the tears that usually came with the silent goodbyes.

“Scully?”

She turned around, somewhat afraid of what he was about to say. But fear turned into tenderness as he spoke.

“You look beautiful.”

She smiled in spite of herself, the first smile while with him in the past year or so. He smiled back, melting a little more of the ice on that wall of hers.

Without another word, she made her way out of the bedroom and then out of the house. She was already in her car when she realized — the tears she was expecting never came.

Maybe she would call him one of these days. Maybe they would talk again. Maybe they would become something similar to what they had once been. For now, she only held on to the smile on his face and his heartwarming words. One step at a time.

#the x files #the x files fanfic #mulder and scully #msr #todayinfic #post breakup #dana scully #fox mulder #x files

[chuluoyi]

✎ heaven's fury

- gojo satoru x reader

sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again

genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭

note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”

“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”

“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”

Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.

The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.

Apparently not.

“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”

Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.

. . .

“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”

At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.

“Satoru...?”

And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—

“Satoru, are you—?”

“Just fucking shut it!”

And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.

“Huh…?”

Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?

If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”

Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.

There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.

But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.

Damn it. Damn it all!

In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.

Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.

You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.

Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.

After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.

“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”

“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.

“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.

“…” This shithead. That's it.

“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”

“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”

Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.

“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.

“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”

Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.

You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.

“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”

He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.

And after a while...

“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”

The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.

“Mm-hmm, I know.”

“Really.”

“Mmm, really, really.”

He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”

Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.

“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”

And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.

“They're just some paranoid old fools—”

“Mm-hmm.”

“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”

“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”

“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”

...oh.

And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.

First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.

And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.

It made something inside you flutter.

“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”

“Huh?”

“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”

Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.

But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—

“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”

The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.

The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.

“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”

You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.

Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.

“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—

But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.

And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.

“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”

And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.

“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.

“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”

“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”

At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.

“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”

Epilogue

Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.

"Satoru... what are you...?"

He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."

However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.

"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."

When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.

"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"

"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."

Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered over your baby—

"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"

...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #dad!gojo #satoru gojo fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jutusu kaisen x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo

[heeliopheelia]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding

a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least. 

“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”

It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.

“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”

“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”

He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now. 

“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully. 

“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it. 

He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there. 

You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.

After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”

He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.

And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you. 

“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again. 

Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.

That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him. 

“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.

“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further. 

You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”

“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”

“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”

Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.” 

“Really?”

Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”

You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”

He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”

“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”

PARK JAY

The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment. 

His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.

Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you. 

And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough. 

“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?” 

The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead. 

“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.

“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”

“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly. 

Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips. 

Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut. 

A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly. 

With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly. 

You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.

And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered. 

You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace. 

You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on. 

There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?

Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles. 

And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe. 

You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck. 

“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”

“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him. 

He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry. 

He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body. 

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”

Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound. 

He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours. 

“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”

“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?” 

“I love you.”

With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.

“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”

He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.

He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.

SIM JAKE

“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”

He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”

“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”

Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.

You’re honestly getting tired of it.

“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom. 

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”

“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”

To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers. 

“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”

You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.

Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles. 

You feel awful. 

Jake feels even worse. 

Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair. 

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”

At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting. 

You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.

“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”

“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.” 

“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.

“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”

The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible. 

His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.

“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago. 

And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.

“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”

“Fucking- Fine.”

Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand. 

You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl. 

“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?” 

You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”

“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”

The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him. 

“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”

No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well. 

“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”

With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more. 

He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.

“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair. 

He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.

So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”

You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest. 

“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”

And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago. 

He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again. 

You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers. 

“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”

You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago. 

“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”

You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”

His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”

You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”

permanent taglist + taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb @iamnotalicia

© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung imagines #park jay x reader #park jay imagines #enhypen jay imagines #jay x reader #sim jake x reader #jake x reader #sim jake imagines #jake imagines #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon imagines #sunghoon imagines

[alatusprinz]

when you call him good boy .

characters: wanderer/scaramouche, kaedehara kazuha, albedo, xiao

genre: smut, (warning of explicit words choice)

-

Scaramouche/Wanderer sneers at you mockingly when the words fall from your mouth. His grip on your hips tightened as he snapped his hips into your behind roughly, deliberately thrusting in so deep so your back arches with your face buried into the pillow. He hated when your needy moans were silenced when it wasn’t on his accord, making him reach out to grip onto your hair roughly to pull your body up while holding onto your neck with his other hand, forcing you to find balance in an awkward position with your knees on the mattress and back against his chest. His hips never halted one bit, still thrusting in relentlessly into your drenched walls as your mind blanked out from the dizzying stimulation. Tightening his grip on your neck, he leans into your ear, almost purring in a sickeningly sweet voice. 

"Fuck, you like that don't you? Like being used like a little dolly for me?" You whimpered weakly as your scalp slightly burned from his tight grip, your body moving to meet his slams involuntarily from the force of his each thrust. It always felt like this, almost too good, too overwhelming from the borderline ruthless way he fucked you. As your broken moans persisted and he wanted to see you break down more, let go of your hair with a satisfied smirk and instead held onto both your wrists to pull your body back to meet his hips, manhandling you and taking you as he pleased.

His grip on your wrists tightened as pulled them back to slam your ass to his hips over and over, your cunt almost sore and aching from how he used you like a toy for his pleasure.

“Yeah? Fuck, call me that again, let me know how much of a good boy I am being.” 

-

Kazuha’s gaze was always starstruck and almost drunk in love when he was staring at you as he slipped into your snug walls over and over. He was so hypnotized by you, completely allured more every second you two spent together. And he never knew he could fall even deeper until you looked at him with that sultry gaze, mouth open and making the prettiest sounds for him, and called him your good boy. Your good boy. An infatuated smile blossoming on his face, his cock pressed in deep, then he moved in a grinding motion slightly as you squirmed and mewled in pleasure. He was looking at you with heart in his eyes, completely enchanted and greedy to see more of your beauty. Nobody could ever compare or hold a candle to how beautiful you looked under him when he made love to you.

That’s right- he almost whimpers at your word as his hold on your waist tightened, immediately pressing his lips onto yours. His kiss was needy, desperate to feel you in his arms, if there was anything in this world that he couldn’t lose ever, it would undoubtedly be you. Kazuha’s heart feels like it would leap out any moment now as he rolls his hips into yours, trying his best to go sensual and slow although his patience was running thin every time your breathy moans graced his ears. His lips lowered to your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and he whispered. 

“All yours my love, all yours… Your good boy, yours…” 

-

A soft moan leaves Albedo’s mouth in pleasant surprise at the praise he hears from you. His inquisitive gaze never leaves your face, in fact his sight never seemed to focus on anything else other than your pretty expressions when he made love to you. The way your eyes fluttered shut when his tip brushes over your sensitive spot (one he knows all too well by now), the differences in your moans when he grinds into you, slowly pushes as deep as he can to drag upon your tender spot, or when he sometimes indulge his greed and slams into you harder and faster as your nails scratched into his back- all of your precious reactions are recorded in his mind like a rewound tape. 

You called him good boy- his pupils dilated visibly if you had half the mind to notice, and suddenly he was all the more determined to please you more. His mouth latched onto your nipple, one hand gripping onto your waist as he rutted inside your warm walls, pleasured groans leaving his lips while he sucked on harder. You swore sight blurred as his other hand was suddenly rubbing over your clit, circling and flicking the way he knew you moaned the prettiest for him. He knew your body better than you did by now, Albedo took silent pride in that fact. And he intended on being a good boy for you every day and night, whenever you desire him.  

- Xiao almost gets too pleasure-driven from the moment your lips are on his more sensually, from the second your touches turn suggestive. His eyes are always clouded over with lust, desire and admiration towards you, he is hardly even lucid when he finally pushes into your eager walls, he can never control himself fully once he had a taste of you- all that mattered to him was you, your moans, and your face twisting in pleasure. That’s why when you first called him your good boy, he didn’t even hear it. His one hand was pressing yours to the mattress, fingers entwined as he rammed inside needily, it felt so good, he wanted to be buried inside your snug walls forever- this insatiable lust transfers over to his actions because as much as he tries, he can’t seem to be too gentle and from the way you moan sharply each time he slams in and his cock rubs against your insides just right, Xiao couldn’t find it in him to slow down anyways.

His fingers laced with yours on one hand, indirectly holding you down in place with how with each thrust made your linked hands sink down onto the sheets, and his other holding onto your hip so tight it felt like it would bruise,. You muttered out a weak “good boy” once more- this time he heard it all too well. He groaned in pleasure at your words, at your beauty or your tight cunt he couldn’t tell, all he knew was he had to give you more, make you take more of him. His lips are on your neck and his sharp teeth sank down on the side, his lustful panting and deep moans ringing in your ear. Your wince of pain was drowned out in the high-pitched whiny moan when his claws unintentionally dug onto your hips as he forced your walls to take all of him, slamming his hips to yours desperately like he would die if he didn’t engrave the feeling of your warmth around him inside his mind. Your sweet moans always made his heart flutter, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he bit down harder on your neck, rutting into you as though to remind you that you’re all his, and he’d be your ‘good boy’ always and forever.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #xiao x reader #xiao x reader smut #xiao smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scara smut #scaramouche x reader smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader smut #kazuha smut #albedo x reader #albedo x reader smut

[deadsetobsessions]

It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.

There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.

Find their grave, and defile it.

It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.

As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

——

Please.

Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.

You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.

“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.

My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.

Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”

Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.

Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”

I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.

“I will.”

When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.

——

“CONSTANTINE!”

“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.

“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”

Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”

John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.

“Go, go!”

——

Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.

“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”

Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.

“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”

That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.

She swallowed.

“She… had red hair?”

“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.

“To help. Please, will you let me help?”

Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.

The ice melts.

“Thank you.”

Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.

And then, he was proven wrong.

Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.

“Oh.”

The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.

Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.

“Is this… alright, your highness?”

Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.

“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”

He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.

——

Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.

“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.

“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.

“Of course.”

A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.

“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”

“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”

——

“I want their heads.” Danny says.

“We don’t kill.”

“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

“Constantine.”

Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.

“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”

“Hm.”

——

Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.

“How old are you, Phantom?”

“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”

“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”

She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.

“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”

Constantine swears.

Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.

Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.

Then, she gets up, and hunts.

#zatanna #danny phantom #dc x dp #batman #bruce wayne #the Justice League #john constantine #the consequences of destroying a final resting place #crisis averted #ghost prince danny

[neptuneblue]

◞  ADORNED WITH ADORATION.

꒰ you give satoru a forehead kiss and your tenderness is something he's still trying his damnedest to get used to. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. 0.8k. f!reader. fluff. fluff. more fluff. reposted from my old account n satoru deserves better. sfw.

satoru is still learning to love shamelessly; he’s still learning how to be adorned with adoration. while he’s always grateful to have your arms tightly clasped around him, hugging him with all your might, he still struggles to accept all your loving gestures fully and readily. despite how much he wants to feel loved by you, despite how much he aches to feel safe in your softness, he can’t help but shy away from its frequency, from the pride you exude when you slip your hand into his. but you’ve made it your mission to break down his apprehension.

exposure therapy. whenever you can, you press a kiss to his temple. when he’s least expecting it, your small hands cup his unsuspecting cheeks, your fingertips tingling as his face flushes and warms beneath them. your thumbs stroke his soft skin, taking in a towering man turning timid for you. now is no different.

you notice he’s keeping his distance again, and that simply can’t be sustained. not while you’re around, not while your endeavor is ardency, not while you’re teeming with all the fondness you’re desperate to display for him. “come on, let’s take a nap together.” you suggest, pulling on his hand until you’re dragging him along. despite roseate cheeks giving away timidity, satoru’s rejection attempts to persist. “baby, listen. let go, yeah? i have things to do.” he protests softly, weakly, and with little effort to stand by it, but allows himself to be tugged by you because the truth is he doesn’t want to do anything else except be yours. he wants nothing more than to be all for you. he doesn’t want you to let him go; he just wants to hear you say you want to love him instead. a soft smile and a shake of the head from you. “nope, the only thing you have to do is treat me like a tree and become my koala. let me hug and rub on you.” “me, a koala?” he raises a brow, looking away from you as if it would reduce the pressure and heat in his face. “eh, no thanks. you’re not really an adequate tree.”

pouting, you huff at his comment and grip his shirt, pulling him down until his face hovers just over yours. his lips anticipate the softness and adoration of your kiss, and as his eyes flutter closed to brace for arduous impact, he hears your amused giggle instead. there’s a sinking feeling in his gut then that begs him not to ever let you slip from his devoted grasp. when he feels your lips plant firmly against the center of his forehead, he freezes in place, eyes shooting open wide. your warm-blooded murmur follows. “well, i’m the best tree you’ve got so you better cling to me well, okay?” so of course, his lips clamp shut and he nods without argument or protest, gulping with a mousy expression. you draw him in for a hug then, an all-consuming one, one that makes him melt into your arms and surrender to his willingness to reciprocate. you don’t see the amused and moony smile he gives you; you never do. you don’t feel the way his heart skips a beat in his chest at the thought of crawling on top of you, being caressed and embosomed by you. even if he does suck it up and say it aloud, there won’t be enough emotion in his voice to convey it befittingly: his heart is not with him anymore.

his heart has a new chasm to dwell and meander around in. on a plot of your tenderness with a foundation of your holiness, that’s where he builds his new life and his new will. right there with you. when you lay in his bed on your back, arms expectant and open, you just look at him blankly. he tries not to smile so triumphantly knowing you’re about to wrap him up and he’s going to be laying with his head on your chest, your soft fingers raking through his hair, an endearing palm rubbing along his spine. finally, he lays down with you, sinks right into your patient and waiting embrace, nuzzling his head into the indentation of your collarbone, claiming your signature scent of cashmere and peonies for himself. it clings to you as closely as he does. “all i needed,” he sighs against your skin, a little hidden smile you don’t need to see to know is there for you. “you always make it better. every time.” there’s nowhere he’d rather be than with you. where he belongs is securely attached to you. there’s no future without you by his side, without you loving him so much it makes him move. there’s no such thing as ‘in love’ if it’s not you and him, in the end.

div: /chachachannah.

© 2024 neptuneblue. all rights reserved.

#꒰ 𝐧𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 ꒱ #jjk #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo saturo #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu gojo #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fluff #satoru fluff #gojo fanfic

[notjustjavierpena]

(Mid)summer Loving

Main Masterpost

A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season. 

Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare. 

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128

(Mid)summer Loving

It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling. 

You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him. 

The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.

His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left. 

Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same. 

Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background. 

You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”

“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”

“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.

However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you. 

‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him. 

“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 

“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.

“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”

You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now. 

Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.

Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable. 

When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.

“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?” 

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.” 

“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him. 

“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants. 

You. 

He wants you. 

That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible? 

“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”

And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social. 

You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment. 

His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”

“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know. 

Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too. 

The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again. 

You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side. 

Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt. 

“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?” 

You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in. 

“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over. 

“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”

“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.

“I’m—“ you sob.

“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high. 

You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you. 

He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound. 

Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so. 

“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.

You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”

He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?” 

“No?” Your reply is almost a question. 

“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you. 

“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”

“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time. 

He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”

You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.

“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees. 

While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation. 

He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight. 

The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

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