#but I have 3 very little kids and I’m pouring every last ounce I have into them

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

#so it’s late and I’m intoxicated and interested in sharing a secret that sober me would prefer I not share #but she needs to be more vulnerable and right now in this time the alcohol helps #just as a precursor- I’m a lightweight so I really haven’t had that much and I’ll be fine in the morning and also #my partner has a weird schedule and once or twice a week we like to have a drink or two and play video games or watch a show together #lately it’s been baldurs gate but tonight it’s coop stardew #anywayyyy~ #sober Becca is too shy to say that she’s struggling a lot right now #I’ve been hiding myself away for a LOT of reasons for quite a while now and focusing on being the best mother/partner/homemaker I can be #but this has been detrimental to my friendships and spiritual life #as far as friendships go I feel like since I haven’t had the capability to be a really good friend to anyone since everything happened with #happened with dad* #that I shouldn’t be allowed to have friends at ALL #because if I can’t put 100% effort into my friendships even when I’m struggling I don’t deserve friends at all #but I have 3 very little kids and I’m pouring every last ounce I have into them #so maybe I can kind of have a pass and maybe I can have a friend sometimes? #as a treat? #because I love my family very much but sometimes I don’t feel like I’m a person within the family #especially during the holidays I feel like I’m merely playing the role of ‘mother’ #idk… #this is rambly and doesn’t make a ton of sense #basically I’m wondering if I’m allowed to be lonely sometimes because being a mom is hard and lonely #or if I have to suck it up and wait until my kids are older to get to be a full person outside of them again #btw- this has nothing to do with them #my kids are my sunshine on the most cloudy day #they are so beautiful and wonderful and I am so happy I get to know them and guide them in life #it truly is a privilege #apparently I’m too long winded lol I just started talking about each of my children and what I adore about them #but it was too many tags and tumblr said no lol #oh well jsyk I’m crying rn because they are my pride and joy and even if I never have another friend again they are so so worth it

[barbarianprncess]

did you mean it?

read on ao3.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.

The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.

Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh...did they…”    

“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”

“I think they would.”

“They would never-”

“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.

“But, how did-”

“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.

“Okay, but-”

“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Leave them out of this.”

“Those fuckers.”

“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know lots of things you don’t.”

“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”

“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards  the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”

“Your phone?”

“Left it on the truck.”

“Iris message?”

“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“Just a little.”

“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”

“Yes.”

“So, we’re stuck here.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re laughing?”

“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”

“Not helping-”

“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”

“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”

“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”

“Five hours?”

“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”

“Five hours.”

She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”

“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”

“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.

And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.

They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.

They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.

“Your mom called me the other day.”

Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”

“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”

“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.

“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.

“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”

He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.

“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.

“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”

He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.

The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.

“Did you mean it?”

She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.

“Of course I meant it.”

She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.

Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…

Whoa.

He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.

Waiting for this. Waiting for her.  

They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.

And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.

She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”

His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”

Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.

It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”

He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”

He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.

“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.

They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.

And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”

He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”

But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.

He is so screwed.

#so i wrote this in like two hours and its probably a mess but. here you go ig. #aoah ch 3 will be out soon but in the meantime #heres this lol #percabeth #percabeth fic #my fic #my writing #if you comment or rb i will die for you

[soliavenne]

Between Naked Souls - 1 (Gaara x Reader R-18 Fanfiction)

Hiii, everyone! :) <3 This long fic had been my baby since early September. It took really long, but I think a part of me is in agreement that this story really needed that amount time to develop, and I'm really proud and happy of what it has resulted to. This work really means the world to me. It had exhausted me beyond measure but I have really fallen in love with it.

Warning: NSFW work ahead.

Word count: 26.6k (I know, self-control is not my best suit.)

I hope you enjoy! <3 

Cover art by yours truly. 

---

Gaara jolted awake with a choked gasp; the clawing sensation down his now hoarse throat as the strain caused by unintelligible growls for help that has been leaving his mouth for the past twenty minutes began to catch up with his dawning consciousness. He propped his elbows behind his back, his chest heaving up and down heavily as he tried to chase his breath. He continued to shift backwards until he felt the headboard press against his back in support to his weakening composure. Gaara brushed his forearms across his forehead, making him wince when he raked his fingers down his now, sweat-dampened hair. He really wasn’t able to conjure images just yet as his eyes were still adjusting to the almost pitch black darkness of his room, so he gasped in shock when he felt something touch the back of his hand, with his head automatically shooting towards the direction in which the surprising gesture came from.

“Hey…” Your voice croaked, followed by a yawn as you rubbed your knuckles against your eyes. “Gaara? Are you awake?” You slowly sat up, swinging your body towards the side of the bed to reach for the lamp above the nightstand. After turning it on, you returned your attention towards Gaara, whose chest was still heaving up and down, with his face angled towards the ceiling; eyes glued shut, skin pale and sweaty. Your blood ran cold out of panic, as his current state was unraveled to you. You quickly grabbed a fist of the blanket before throwing it out towards the floor to give him some air. The amount of concerned queries that rambled down your mouth without any sense of halting any time soon was cut short when Gaara placed his hand above yours, giving it a firm squeeze to snap you out of your agitated daze.

“Y/N,” Gaara breathed out as he was still trying to stabilize his panting. “there’s nothing to worry about...”

You leaned over towards Gaara, your knees pressed down against the mattress. You reached out for him and placed a palm against his forehead. “What do you feel, Gaara? Do you feel sick?”

“No,” Gaara let out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms against his stomach; palms sluggishly rubbing up and down his arms in hopes of calming the chills enveloping his body. “it’s just… another nightmare.”

Your eyes went soft at what you heard, and over the very sight that that was happening before you. He only had little to no time that was reserved so that he could take a proper rest, yet even that was being robbed away from him. You couldn’t help it, your stomach continued to drop in a bottomless pit of pity, as it felt like you could almost sense every fiber of fatigue and exhaustion from your lover.

Gaara doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Tsk,” Gaara groaned, as his head started to throb in pain. He pressed the pads of his index and middle finger against his opposite temples, massaging it in circles to alleviate the pulsing pain. “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to wake you up like that… I’m so sorry, my love.”

“Hey…” Your voice softened at him, as you reached out for the side of his face so that you could redirect it towards yours. “you have nothing to apologize for, okay?” You stroked his cheek as you smiled reassuringly before him. “None of this is your fault, Gaara.”

Another worn out sigh ripped from his chest. Gaara held your hand that was placed against his cheek, caressing it with his thumb before leaning his lips towards your palm to kiss it gently. “I will be alright, Y/N. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

“Well, that’s too bad… I’m kinda’ bound to be always concerned about you no matter what.” You chuckled at him, eliciting a small smile from your lover in return. You ran your fingers through his locks, a little surprised when you felt how soaking wet it was. “You’re so sweaty right now, Gaara. Let me grab some towel and water, alright?”

There was a sight of a slight pout on Gaara’s lips, his gaze anywhere but in direct contact with yours. “Stay…”

Your hand on his cheek travelled down his shoulder, and down on his hand, giving it a soft squeeze to ease him down a bit. “But you might suffer from colds if I let you go back to sleep like that, Gaara.” He seemed like he was about to speak another word, but he nodded in agreement after a minute of silence. You stood up from the bed, opening the closet and rummaging through his clothes before grabbing another pair sleeping garments for your lover; placing it on top of the mattress. Prior to walking straight towards the door, you went towards Gaara, who was now watching you from his side of the bed. You ushered his face closer towards yours by both sides of his jaw, before pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “I won’t take long, I promise.”

“Promise?” Gaara mumbled, his soft voice feeling like he was tugging on your heartstrings.

“Yes, Gaara. I promise.” You smiled at him once again. “I will be back.”

The subtle sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the corridor as you walked towards the kitchen. Despite how dim it was, you somehow knew exactly where to walk through to get towards the switch; as it finally seems like you have already memorized the layout of Gaara’s house over the course of time you have spent inside it.

Gaara was indeed a busy man, he was the Kazekage of the village after all. He rarely comes home, as he never really found any reason to stay inside his house all by himself when he could just be doing paperwork instead inside his office. It did change, though, when the two of you had started dating one another. After a year of being together, Gaara finally invited you over to his house, and you swore that the whole vibe that it radiated off was as if his house was recently furnished, and was finally in commercial to be sold. It was spotlessly-clean, from up the ceiling, down the floor; a little monotonous and plain if you were to be honest; not entirely homey, as expected from someone who doesn’t really live much inside his own home; a decision with a much more deeper reason that you have just been recently informed of when Gaara offered you to stay with him for the meantime while you were looking for a new apartment to move in.

When you started living with Gaara, he offered you the luxury of having his bedroom to yourself, which something you disagreed wholeheartedly with. There was no way you were going to let him sleep on the couch when the two of you could fit snugly on top of his bed. The only thing that made you agreed to his proposition was when he said that he wasn’t ready to share a bed just yet; so as much as you wanted to tell him it was more than okay for you to sleep beside one another, the last thing you wanted was to put pressure on him.

It was when you woke up in the middle of the night to drink water, when you found him sitting alone in the couch in a sleepy daze, his elbows pressed on top of his thighs with his face buried into his hand. His hair was disheveled, and his breathing was labored. When you sat beside him, asking him what was wrong, the frustration and weariness in his voice was evident.

“I had a nightmare…”

According to Gaara, it seemed like he had started suffering from recurring nightmares a year after the Fourth Great Ninja War, confessing to you how he had been coping about it ever since. Gaara said that he tries to take short naps throughout the day in order to make up for little to no sleep that he gets at night. He tries to steer himself away from sleeping at the comfort of his home, because when the exhaustion catches up to him, he ends up losing control over the state of sleep, making him susceptible to another yet episode of a nightmare.

The next morning, you almost pleaded to Gaara to finally sleep beside you.

“Please, Gaara. If you were in my place, you know it yourself that you would do everything you can just so you could take care of me. We should always take care of each other no matter what.”

It honestly took a lot of convincing before you got Gaara to agree with you. He kept telling you that he didn’t want to disturb what should be a night of peaceful sleep for you, but you knew it yourself that having him beside you would not be the reason of you losing sleep, but the fact that you would always be worried sick about him. Who was he kidding? How could you even get an ounce of sleep now after knowing what he goes through at night? As much was you wanted him to give him the autonomy over his decisions, this wasn’t any matter that should be dealt alone with, and Gaara knows that himself. If you were to be the one in his place, he wouldn’t sit still about it as well.

After a minute of letting the kettle’s whistle tear through the quiet of the night, you wrapped a rug on the plastic handle before taking it off the flame. You leaned downwards to grab a small basin from the cabinet, filling half of it with cold water under the faucet before turning it off. You poured the hot water in intervals, feeling the water with your other hand now and then as you tried to bring it up to a proper temperature; the steam coming off of it feeling rather nice against your cold cheeks. You placed two bath towels over your shoulder, and just before you were about to lift the basin from the sink, you felt someone shift behind your back.

It was Gaara.

You felt his hands travel from your waist, towards on top of your stomach as he pulled you in for a backhug. “Let me carry that.” Gaara whispered into your ear before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“You should be resting on the bed,” You mumbled, your voice laced with just a tiny bit of scolding. “I’m supposed to be the caretaker here, Gaara.”

Gaara smiled against your face, as he continued to plant gentle kisses upon your skin. “I will always take care of you… as much as you take care of me, even if I’m incapacitated to do so. We’ll always take of each other no matter what; that’s what you said, right?”

Your chest tightened with what you just heard, feeling a soft brush of warmth across your now probably flushed cheeks. Before you knew it, Gaara was already walking back towards the bathroom with the basin at hand, leaving you a flustered mess in the kitchen.

The windows were now opened, and the moonlight bathed the bedroom in a gentle, luminous glow. Gaara sat still on the edge of the bed that was facing the window, eyes trained on the side as you stood before him. The basin was on your right side, sitting above a wooden stool, with the bath towel now soaking the warm water inside it.

“Uhm… Would you rather have me take off your clothes, or you want to do it by yourself?”

After turning on the night lamp, you saw a clearer glimpse of Gaara’s face, which was currently laced with concern. After a minute or two of wondering why, that was when you realized what he had been thinking about ever since he sat on the bed.

“You have nothing to worry about, Gaara. I don’t mind… seeing you with your clothes off.”

Gaara’s chest tightened, as his face started to get as red as his hair. He pursed his lips subtly out of embarrassment, before pulling his dampened shirt over his head, folding it neatly above his lap before placing it down the floor. Gaara stood up from the bed, before pulling his pajamas down until it pooled down his feet. You redirected your gaze towards the walls behind your lover, your lips in a slight pout as you tried to release a subtle, drawn out sigh to ease your jittering nerves.

“I’m… I’m done.” Gaara murmured, his palms pressed down against the mattress on both sides of his body, as he was now left wearing nothing but black, cotton boxers, a messy hair, and a blushing face.

You smiled nervously at him before taking a sit beside him, the mattress sinking down a little in response to the movement. You reached for the bath towel lying on the bottom of the basin, and with both hands, you squeezed the excess water out, dipping it up and down as you continued to drain it just until it was damp enough to cleanse his body off of the stickiness of his sweat. Gaara rotated himself to face you directly, so that you could have a better access to his body. You grabbed him softly by his wrist, starting by his hands. You gently rubbed both of his palms, before cleaning in between of his fingers. “Your hands are rather pretty, don’t you think? They’re so soft… and slender.”

“I never took notice of that,” Gaara mumbled in between of trying his best to meet your gaze, but failing nevertheless halfway through it. “but, uhm… thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled back at him while you were rubbing the towel from his wrist towards his arm in firm, upwards strokes, doing the same thing with the other one before returning the towel into the basin, allowing it to soak up water for a minute or two before wringing it out once again, the sound of water dripping down the basin sounding rather relaxing as it consorted the quietness of the night perfectly.

“Uchiha… Sasuke, huh?” You asked curiously, as you were now rubbing the towel on top of his left shoulder, gazing intrigued at the huge scar just a few inches below the tail of his collarbone. There was an odd, circular looking-shape at the center, its edges jagged; seemingly appearing to be the epicenter of the attack. It seemed to branch out in different directions, some of it being three to four inches in length, finalized by extensions of smaller, thinner limbs of scar. The color of it was in between oleander and umber, rather a little glossy in appearance considering how old it was.

“Hmm…” Gaara sighed with a slight, amused smile on his face; remembering that he once considered his scar as a memento of the very day he met his first friend; Uzumaki, Naruto.

“What do you think about it?”

“…About what?”

“Your scar.”

You were now scrubbing the damp cloth against his chest, and you couldn’t help but get a little nervous.

Gaara wasn’t overly buff, his muscles were rather lean and well-defined. It wasn’t the type to put an exaggerated strain on the fabric of his clothes, as Gaara himself also opts for a looser approach of garments; so you were rendered surprised when you saw how toned his upper muscles actually were; specifically his shoulders and his arms, which may have probably been a result of the years he had spent carrying that heavy, large gourd on his back.

He really was… beautiful.

Gaara has been noticing how lingering your stare was over his body for the past few minutes, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him self-conscious. He tries to diffuse his embarrassment by answering your questions in return. “Well… it does bear some emotional significance to me, since during that day, a lot of what took in place changed my life forever.”

You nodded back at Gaara, knowing exactly what he was talking about since this wasn’t really the first time he told you about what happened during the final round of the chunin exams.

“Appearance-wise…” Gaara sighed in thought, “I guess I myself don’t really mind it that much, but…” Gaara trailed off, as he was now trying to avert his gaze away from you once again. You didn’t want to inquire further, even though the curiosity was killing you. If there’s anything that Gaara solidified in you, that was improving your ever short-lived patience. You smiled at him before dropping the towel once again, squeezing the water out as you hummed.

“Let me clean your face now.” You shifted closer to Gaara, as the side of your knee was now brushing against his. Since you have to lean a little closer to him, you ended up unconsciously placing your warm palm on top of his naked thigh, the abrupt contact eliciting an inward gasp from Gaara; his shock not visible at all to you with how excellent he was in trying to bottle every reaction he has behind his usual, stoic face. What he couldn’t hide though was how his other hand was clenched in a tight fist, his thumb rubbing against his folded index finger in hopes of calming down his nerves.

You pressed a palm against his forehead before flipping back his fringe towards his head, revealing his tattoo. You dabbed the towel softly against his skin, wiping in between. “Your hair’s getting a little long, huh?”

“Should I cut it?” Gaara asked.

“Well, that is up to you to decide. I think you look handsome either way.” You pinched his cheek teasingly before wetting the towel once again. Gaara couldn’t help how racy his heart was at this moment; he was still not used to positive affirmations.

“Close your eyes.” You whispered under your breath. You folded the bath towel around your index and middle finger, as your grip on his thigh got a little tighter as you continued to inch closer towards him. You started around the area surrounding his eyes. “I really think you have gorgeous eyes.”

Gaara, despite being a nervous wreck that he was, found humor in what you just said; as a gentle, chortle of laughter left his mouth. “I have… what…”

“You don’t agree?” You pouted.

Gaara sensed a hint of sadness in your voice, and he could imagine you pouting right at that very second. “It’s just… it’s the first time I have received such compliment. It surprised me, my love.”

“Hmm… well, I think it really strikes a very interesting contrast, you know?” You mumbled, telling him that he can open his eyes now. You smiled even more as you saw the literal proof of your statement just now. “It might sound odd to you, but I think your eyebags bring out your pale, seafoam eyes better. You have such unique-colored eyes.” You smiled genuinely at him.  Gaara tried to avert his eyes from the eye contact you were now trying to initiate, but you wanted him to know this wasn’t small talk; you were genuine about it, every bit of it. “Gaara?”

“…Yes?” Gaara flinched a little when you held him by the side of his cheek as you ushered him to face you once again.

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered quietly as your face started to inch itself closer to his. Gaara shut his eyes closed in response, a soft sigh staying behind his nervously, zipped-tight lips when he felt the softness of your slight pucker against him. “You are so beautiful to me, Gaara.” You grinned against his lips before pressing a lingering peck once again. When you pulled back from the kiss, Gaara’s eyes barely fluttered open; with the evident blush staining his cheeks red. He was rendered speechless of it all, and you were nothing but understanding of it. You grabbed the folded, black shirt behind your back that you’ve fished out from the closet. Gaara was still not speaking, but he nodded in agreement when you told him that you were gonna put his shirt on for him.

“Thank you…” Gaara mumbled under his breath.

“You’re welcome.” You grinned brightly at him before standing up to place the basin at the corner of the room, telling Gaara along the lines of emptying it out tomorrow morning. “Oh, you go change into your pajamas now. I’ll stand here for a bit until you’re done, okay?”

Gaara didn’t answer, but you heard him shift from behind your back. You hummed a tune to yourself as you allowed him to finish getting dressed, adjusting your shirt and shorts as well so that you can now go back to sleep afterwards. When you heard a soft signal from Gaara telling you that he was done, you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he looked like; all tucked up on his side of the bed. A few minutes after you settled yourself underneath the blanket as well, you decided to change your mind, as you opted to sit instead; with your back pressing against the headboard. You couldn’t help but notice how awfully quiet Gaara was, lying on his side and facing away from you; not moving at all, but his way of breathing tattle-taled that he was still awake.

“Gaara?”

“Hmm?”

“We can cuddle, if you’d like…”

“…”

Gaara shifted in his position, the rustling fabric ringing to your ears as he rotated himself to turn towards you. He propped his palm against the mattress before situating himself closer towards you, earning a surprised reaction from you with his choice of position; before having it transition into a soft, endearing smile.

His cheek was currently resting above your lap, the back of his head pressing against your stomach. He laid on his side, his knees folded so that his legs weren’t going to dangle down the edge of the bed. Gaara felt a little stiff and awkward as he still wasn’t entirely used to being this close and affectionate under his very own initiative - but a part of him… a part of him wanted to reach out towards you at the moment.

He yearned to feel your warmth against him tonight.

Gaara sighed, his thoughts mixing in with the undecisiveness of what kind of words should leave his mouth right now, in contrast to the other side of him wanting to open up, because the last thing he wanted was to get you worried over him. You caught up to his internal plight, his eyes fluttering open gently to meet yours as you combed your fingerpads through his hair, softly cooing to him that he didn’t have to talk about it if he didn’t want to.

Truth be told, the obvious lack of communication skills on his behalf paved way towards difficulties; it had been a root to some of the problems you two have encountered during the earlier onset of your relationship. Of course, you weren’t devoid of the responsibilities over the dilemmas as well, and you are very much aware of that. The innate awareness itself, and the perseverance to let each other know which issues that you two have that render setbacks on the relationship is what made your connection be continuously resilient. On your behalf, you finally understood that you should not take personal offense over his predisposition to stay silent; as it was already an internal struggle that he himself acknowledges, and tries his best to overcome in order to be a better partner for you.

With his heart touched over your reassuring gesture, Gaara reached out for your other hand, which was currently resting above his hip, and held it in front of his face, eyeing it lovingly while he fiddled with your digits, as if he wanted to feel every bleed of comforting warmth that poured out from your skin. Gaara pressed the back of your hand against his lips, giving it a gentle kiss before placing it above his cheek, as his thumb continued to press and massage against your palm to return the favor. “Would it be a bother if I were to ask you to your read your book to me, my love?”

A slight surprise graced your face, as this was the first time Gaara had requested something like that. “Of course not, Gaara.” You smiled softly at him. “Would you like me to get something that you like? Do you have anything in mind?”

“You don’t have to,” Gaara trailed off, followed by a soft, fleeting whisper,  “I just want to hear your voice…”

Your chest fluttered at what you heard, and you could almost feel your stomach dropping in an unfathomable happiness. You reached for the book beside the lamp on your nightstand, opening it on a certain page you were reading into earlier. You cleared your throat, a little nervous, yet also wanting to give it your best shot. Gaara’s eyes were closed once again, a hint of anticipation gracing his peaceful face. “Rest for the meantime, okay?”

And with a slight nod from Gaara, you started to read to him.

"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you−− the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.”

And he went back to meet the fox.

"Goodbye," he said.

"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."

"It is the time I have wasted for my rose−−" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."

"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” You repeated with a soft smile, your eyes sneaking down a glance at Gaara through the slight gap between the bottom edge of the book and your chest; his fiery, red locks reminding you of the said vibrantly-colored flower in the story. “I am responsible for my rose.”

Before you spoke another line once again, Gaara pressed his palm against the spine of the book, hooking his index and middle finger in between the partition of the pages and pulling it softly away from you. He placed the book on the side before sitting up, the faint sigh that left his mouth fanning air against your lips.

Gaara wanted to thank you, but the shock barred himself to speak even a single syllable right at that moment. He had underestimated how close his face would be, and the short space in betweeen the two of you had robbed him off of his capacity to speak as his eyes unconsciously glanced down at your lips.

He wanted to kiss you.

He wanted to kiss you so much.

…But, he stood frozen before you, his stomach and chest tightening beyond belief as he couldn’t move even an inch to close the gap that was preventing him from feeling your lips against him. He just continued to stare, taking in every line, corner and curve of your soft, glistening pout. Gaara felt his breathing gradually quicken, as he found himself leaning closer and closer to your equally, blushing face.

“Can I kiss you?” Gaara whispered under his breath, his deep, husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “Can I kiss you, my love?” Gaara nudged his face forward towards you, basking in the emanating warmth from your face.

You nodded at him, your heart racing uncontrollably beneath your chest. “You can kiss me, Gaara.”

Gaara pulled back his face away from you, his almost shaking hand holding you by the side of your cheek, a thumb sneaking in soft strokes against your lower lip. His heart fluttered at how supple it was to the touch. He closed his eyes before leaning in towards you once again, that being the last sight before you shut your eyes in return. It wasn’t too long until you felt his lips brush gently against yours; a little hesitant, yet the intimacy of it igniting his urge to feel more. Gaara inched his lips forward with a deeper pressure; as your tender pout continued to bathe his body in a calming sense of warm solace that he couldn’t get enough of.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he immediately dove his face towards the crook of your neck, his arms sliding down on both sides of your body before wrapping them around your waist; ushering you closer for a hug. His breathing was rather erratic, slow and deep. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hand sneaking in a soft, rub across his scalp to ease him down. “Do you want to get some sleep now, love?”

Gaara hummed vaguely in response, his tone lingering with a hint of not wanting to let go of you just yet, coinciding perfectly with the fact that he just hugged you closer towards him.

“…”

“Do you want to kiss me again?”

Gaara buried his face deeper against your warm skin.

“Yes…”

You relaxed your shoulders against the headboard, your breathing almost hitching in anticipation as Gaara pulled his face back from the curve of your neck. His eyes fell down to the side, and just before you thought he was now going to lean forward for an another kiss, Gaara nuzzled his face towards your neck once again, his hug getting a little more tighter this time.

Gaara swallowed the lump in his throat, the beat of his heart getting tighter and deeper, like he could almost feel his chest sink as every pulse got heavier and heavier. He wanted to confess that his nervousness had skyrocketed beyond reach; and he wasn’t sure he could initiate another kiss once more with his weakening resolve. His jittering nerves were getting the best of him, making him mumble soft apologies against your skin as he cuddled closer towards you.

“I can kiss you, instead… if you want to.” You whispered to his ear.

Gaara faced you once again, his eyes glassy and heavy with anticipation.

“D- do you know how to kiss,” You scratched your index finger against your cheek embarrassingly before trying to meet his nervous gaze once again. “with our mouths open? Y- you know, using our… tongue.” The last word seemed to evaporate into thin air, as Gaara’s blush grew a deeper hue. “Don’t worry,” You chuckled nervously as you tried to comfort him. “I- It’s not like I’m an expert on that or anything. I have just… read about it,” You cleared your throat. “from the books I have.”

“I’m sorry… My lack of experience…” Gaara closed his eyes with a sigh.

“Hey,” You placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “like I said, I have only read about it. I don’t know how it’ll actually be like in real life, or something…”

“You can… you can practice on me, if you’d like.”

You shot Gaara a surprised look in response to his newfound tone of voice. Despite being a flustered mess of pink and red, there was an evident determination in his face. “I want to learn about it, and I want to be able to… please you. So… if you may, as long as you’re comfortable… let me be your guest.”

You nodded at Gaara, “…Uhm, can I sit on your lap?” You mumbled softly.

With an anxious swallow and a shaky nod, Gaara piled three pillows against the headboard before laying on his back comfortably beside you. You thanked him under your breath before letting a sharp sigh of self-encouragement rip from your chest. Gaara couldn’t help but mentally curse inwardly to himself when he felt your supple body press down on him.

“Nervous?” You giggled, both asking Gaara and yourself to ease the tension just a little bit. “Our first makeout session, huh?”

Gaara gasped when you shifted your position, as inching closer towards him paved way for your crotch to grind briefly against his. He clenched his fists tight in hopes of not getting a hard on and making you uncomfortable.

“I’ll start now.”

You placed both of your hands on both sides of his cheek, giving him a soft, endearing smile of encouragement as you dove your face slowly towards him. Both of your eyes weren’t entirely closed; just enough for it to have a small peek of where both of your lips would land on. You pressed a teasing kiss upon his upper lip; pulling back a bit before brushing another peck against his lower lip this time. With a smile, you planted a full kiss on his soft pout; the pressure gradually increasing as Gaara tried his best to respond bit by bit.

“Open your mouth,” You whispered under your breath. Gaara swallowed nervously before allowing a slight gap part his lips in between. “if it feels too weird, just tell me, okay?”

“Mhm..” Gaara answered.

With your drooping eyes trained on his pucker, you inched your face forward, slowly sneaking in your tongue inside his wet cavern, eliciting a soft whimper from your lover. You ushered your body forward, as you leaned in for a deeper kiss; the teasing exploration of your tongue inside Gaara’s mouth not getting intense any time soon with how tensed he was beneath you.

You pulled back from the kiss with a soft grin on your face.

“So…” You asked shyly, “I- I guess that’s how it goes?”

Gaara hummed in thought, brushing his forearm against face as he was still processing what just happened.

There was rather an awkward silence brewing between the two of you, as Gaara’s gaze was fixed on everything but towards you. He couldn’t help it, his heart felt like it was going to somersault out of his ribcage at that very moment, and the fact that you were so close to him for the very first time was just adding fuel to the fire.

“We should get some rest,” You cooed. “There’s no rush about this, alright?”

“N- no, I-“ Gaara cleared his throat immediately, as his immediate disagreement made him blush even harder. “I can still manage, Y/N.”

“Are you sure?”

Gaara nodded in response.

With a soft smile, you ushered your face closer again, your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer to his haze-lost face. Gaara was surprised when you landed your lips upon the corner of his mouth, his confusion spiralling tighter when you started peppering pecking kisses across his cheeks. “Making out isn’t really just about open-mouthed kisses.” You whispered in between, as your other hand went to stroke the other side of his face adoringly. “There are other sensitive spots in our bodies that we can… please, like… here…” You kissed the spot below his ear, tracing the outer shell of it with slow, teasing kisses; enveloping Gaara in a shudder; which was suddenly reciprocated by your own body in return when you felt his hand travel down your spine as he loosely gripped you in place by your waist. You mapped a trail of kisses downwards once again, his grasp getting briefly tighter as your lips got lower and lower down his neck. You halted for a minute, the sensation he’s been feeling not stopping even for a bit as he still felt stimulated by your hot breathe tickling the skin of his neck. “Can I suckle on your neck?”

Gaara’s face had never felt so hot, the heat was nothing in comparison to even the hottest rays under the sun in Suna that has been reflecting over his face for years.

“Yes...” Gaara mumbled as he pressed his face against the plane of your shoulder.

You brushed a gentle pucker against your chosen spot, peppering it with endearing reassurance. Gaara shuddered once more when he felt your hand ran upwards his spine; a barely audible gasp leaking past his mouth as he felt your fingertips rake through the base of his scalp, your fingers slowly threading through his locks as you tilted his face sidewards with a soft grip. With a whispered warning, you took in the skin of his neck into your mouth, suckling on it softly and kissing it in between before sucking it once again a little harder with every try.

“Ahh, Y/N…”

…

Your heart felt like it missed a beat.

“Did I hear that right?” You whispered breathily to his ear. “Was that a moan?”

Gaara nodded bashfully in response.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes…” Gaara mumbled under his breath. “Y- you’re so… good at this.”

“It doesn’t stop here just yet.” There was a faint smirk on your face. “There’s so much more you’ve yet to see,” You could feel Gaara’s labored breathing against you, his breathing hitching for worse when you brushed your crotch against his on purpose. “so much more you’ve yet to feel…”

“Y/N…”

“You can touch me too, if you like…” You mumbled suggestively, as you placed your hand on top of his hand that was resting upon your waist, giving it a soft brush of contact before dragging it under your shirt, the warm skin contact of his palm brushing against your bare skin making you bite your lip subtly in response.

You pulled back your face from the curve of his neck, initiating an effort to meet his shaky gaze once again. “Do you want to see me, Gaara?”

And with a nervous nod from your lover, you pulled your shirt over your head.

You reached for the clasp behind your back, unclasping it rather a little shakily as you were also nervous as well. You were kind of thankful that Gaara wasn’t there to notice how long you have been taking off the damned fabric off of you, as he was enveloped in a bashful shell of himself; with his eyes drifting towards the side out of respect.

With a satisfied sigh, you quickly placed your forearm below your chest in support before tossing the bra to the side.

“Y- you can look now…”

Gaara felt like the air he was barely breathing in was now taken away from him completely.

You quickly grabbed the discarded shirt, covering yourself in a frazzled mumble of words.

He was quiet, he was too quiet; his rapid breathing was the only response you were hearing from him and you would be lying if you said that the lack of verbal reaffirmations from him didn’t affect you at all. When Gaara caught up with how he might have made you feel, he quickly snapped back to his senses. Through his crippling bashfulness, he managed to look directly into your eyes.

…And with an adoring smile, Gaara spoke once again.

“You look so beautiful, my love.”

Gaara might be beyond a nervous wreck at this point, but so were you. He couldn’t help but coo soft apologies in reference to this thought, as he felt like all he did was sit back and let you do the work. You reassured him that it wasn’t anything like that, that it’s only natural to be high-strung at that moment since both of you had not done this before.

“Please,” Gaara said, although his voice was soft and endearing, you could still tell the deep-seated determination behind it. “if you’re comfortable with it… please, tell me how I could make you feel good.”

You tossed the shirt to the side once again.

“W- wait, let me… let me reposition myself a little bit, my love.” Gaara mumbled, as the squeeze of his hand placed on your waist got a little firmer in response to the movement. He straightened his back once more, allowing him to have a better posture; with a nod, you started to search for his other hand.

You guided his tad bit shaky hand towards your left breast, a soft sigh exiting your mouth as you felt the warm contact of his palm upon your nakedness. You tried to meet Gaara’s eyes, but a nervous tick sent him down staring intently down his directed hand as the brief eye contact with your heavy-lidded eyes sent shivers down his spine.

“Feel the weight of it first,” You mumbled. “Start slowly, allow your… fingers to wrap around the roundness of it…”

Gaara nodded studiously as he took mental notes deep into his brain. He was starting to get more comfortable around it, as the urge to please you was starting to get ahead of his tensing nerves.

“That’s it… Gradually increase the firmness of your grasp… Ahh.” You moaned softly under your breath, as Gaara’s firmer ministrations started to send jolts of pleasure down the rest of your body. Gaara felt like his breathing halted momentarily, but he knew better this time. You were now starting to feel good under his touch, and he would stop at nothing to ensure he wouldn’t keep you away from feeling that way.

“T- Touch my other breast too…”

With a swallow, Gaara followed through, repeating exactly what he had learned previously.

You tried your best to tone down your voice, but another pleasure-soaked moan ripped from your heaving chest as Gaara continued to play through his ministrations. He watched you in awe, as you stared lustfully down at your breast being toyed with by his very own hands. You knew he was starting to feel good as well, as you started to feel his protuding erection across your clothed slit.

“Wet your thumb with your tongue, Gaara.” The way you moaned his name at the very end of your sentence made him curse inwardly to himself. Gaara extended the tip of his tongue, licking the pad of his thumb diligently until it was appropriately wet. You propped your palms behind your back, placing them above Gaara knees as you arched back a little, allowing him to have a fuller view of your naked, upper body.

A budding, lustful sigh leaked past Gaara’s lips. Somehow, he did have a vague idea in regards to what was going to follow past your previous instruction, so out of instinct, Gaara rested his palm upon the side of your breast, and with a swift motion, Gaara brushed his lubricated thumb against your nipple, eliciting a sweeter moan from you.

“Not only a fast learner; you’re also quite the intuitive one, are you?” You mumbled with a smirk.

Gaara smirked back briefly, before wetting his other thumb to reflect the exact ministration on your other breast.

“Ohh, Gaara.”

Gaara flicked both of his thumbs teasingly, side to side, upon your now stiffening nub. Not depending entirely on your instruction alone anymore, Gaara went through his instinct as he rubbed the pads of his thumb in circular motions against your nipples; dragging out a drawn out, blissful mewl of his name from your lips as you started to unconsciously dig your nails against the skin of his thighs.

“Gaara, that feels so-“

Gaara’s hands went down your waist and without any foreword, he yanked you closer towards him, earning a surprised yelp from you.

“Can… can I put it in my mouth?” Gaara breathed heavily beneath you, his eyes glassy with impending lust. You raked your fingernails softly across both sides of his head, planting shivers all over his body at how stimulating it felt like for his hair to be played with like that.

“I’d love that…”

With a slight, nervous sigh, Gaara stared at your nub, a hint of curiosity pooling on his seafoam eyes. Gaara pressed a soft kiss on your left breast, his lips tiptoeing towards the other one as he kissed it just as endearingly. “You’re so… perfect, Y/N.”

Your chest and your stomach fluttered at his whispered compliments, as he continued to admire every bit of your nakedness.

“You look so beautiful, my love…”

You pressed a soft kiss against his head, as his utmost adoration continued to weaken every fiber of composure within your body… and after the lingering stare between the two of you, Gaara tightened his grip on your waist before parting his wet mouth; enveloping your nipple lovingly into his wet cavern.

Gaara shifted in his position, straightening his back better against the cushion of the pillow as the way he folded his knees towards his body elevated you a little, allowing you to tower over him even more. Gaara took back his mouth only to dive his face forward to your other teat, moaning adoringly against your naked nipple. Gaara used his forefinger and his thumb to stimulate your other nub in circles, eliciting strings of mewls from your mouth as you continued to moan his name selfishly.

“That’s so good, that feels so good,” You groaned above him, a blissful sight of you being thoroughly watched by Gaara as he shot his gaze towards your mewling stance.

Sneaking past your rational thoughts, your hips began to grind itself against his body on its own, as the pleasure of getting your tits suckled and toyed with by your eager lover’s mouth continued to stir your lust for worse. You pulled on Gaara’s hair, tilting his face upwards to face you, and with a swift motion, you initiated an open-mouthed kisses against his soft pout; your body feeling like you’re being enveloped in a feverish sensation as you continued to swirl his tongue around his mouth. “Touch me down there too…” You whispered in between your sloppy kisses as you redirected both of Gaara’s hand to fumble down your lower back, before shoving it under your shorts. The fabric was loose enough to give Gaara an ample room to massage and squeeze your backside, with the relaxing gesture passing a pleasured moan from your mouth to his. Gaara rubbed his palms across the roundness of your ass in circles before giving it a firm squeeze. The way he was touching you at the moment almost overwhelmed him to a certain point.

You shoved Gaara deeper into the pillow fort behind his back, lapping your tongue inside his mouth, eagerly intertwining it with his own; which was guided by his slight nervous attempt to kiss you back just as passionately. You smiled against Gaara, encouraging him with your soft whispers of approval in between your kisses, making his stomach flutter in a mix of slowly diminishing self-consciousness and the brewing desire to please you more.

You pressed your lips harder against him, deepening your sloppy kiss as you raked your nails through his messy, red hair; making Gaara shudder against you. You pressed your body closer against him, pinning and pinning him deeper into headboard. Dragging your lips past the corner of his lips, you planted pecking kisses towards his ear. “I’d like to… try something.” You whispered breathily, the hot air sending shivers down his spine.  

“W- what do you have in mind, my love?” Gaara asked back breathily.

“You need… stimulation down there as well, right?”

Gaara swallowed the lump in his throat with a slight, wide pair of eyes; processing exactly what you were trying to insinuate.

“I want to make you feel good too, Gaara.” You mumbled blushingly. With a coy smile, you started to grind your clothed slit across Gaara’s stiffened arousal; and the way it got harder and harder with every thrust almost sent you towards the edge.

“Do you want me to touch you down there, love?”

Gaara, although a little hesitant due to his embarrassment, nodded through his bashful stance; as he would be lying if he said that the way his cock throbbed harder beneath you wasn’t starting to feel a little touch-starved.

Gaara left a final, parting squeeze on your backside before allowing you to shift your position; as you were now sitting beside him, your palm propped upon his other thigh to support your composure. “Can I?”

Gaara nodded again with a soft agreement leaving his mouth. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of pajamas before peeling it off of him completely, leaving him in nothing but a new, dark gray boxer shorts. Despite being the one who’s pulling the reins at the moment, you were indeed just as anxious as your lover; as both of you tiptoed towards your very first sexual interaction with one another. Nevertheless, the trust that both of you had for each other made it easier to settle in comfortably under one’s touch, and as foreign as it may be, it still felt like there was a strong, innate connection that bounded you and Gaara together; an undeniable bond that envelops you and your lover in a sense of solace despite showing each other’s naked vulnerabilities.

Everything just feels like… it was meant to happen.

With Gaara’s notice, you slowly undressed him from the lone, remaining fabric that was covering his body; making you flinch in surprise when his aroused cock snapped against the spot just below his clothed navel. You couldn’t help but swallow in anticipation. You left his boxer shorts just above his knees; so that if ever he feels the need to cover himself up, he’d have no trouble looking for his clothing. Gaara couldn’t help but smile to himself warmly with your caring gesture.

You rested your palm upon it, making you gasp slightly with the contact. “Wow, it’s… hot. I mean, it’s hot to the touch... I- It’s so warm?” You stuttered confusingly.

“Y- yes… it really is like that.” Gaara stuttered back nervously with a pleasured sigh, as you used the area between your thumb and index finger to rub against his throbbing cock, the silhouette of his hardness pressing a defined outline against the skin of his lower abdomen igniting a fire of arousal in his body as he was continuously reminded of how rigid his dick was under your touch.

“Oh? It’s wet up here…” You mumbled curiously as you brushed your thumb against the tip of his cock, making Gaara moan softly as you rubbed the pad of your finger against it in circles.

“Ahh… i- it happens… when I am aroused.”

Truth be told, the way you were looking at his cock with wonder in your eyes made his cock even harder. How you looked nervous and in awe at the same time as you took in the sight of his stiffened cock made him choke on his own breath.

“Do you play with yourself?”

Gaara’s breathing hitched after hearing your question, seemingly not knowing exactly how to answer it as his shock sent his brain into a haywire. A minute or two later, he seemed to retrieve back a sense of himself, as he was now trying to conjure up an answer to satiate your curiosity.

“Before I met you… I only saw it as a way of releasing… pent up stress. B- but when I got to know you, and my affections for you started to develop more and more, I…” Gaara sighed, as his nerves started to shake him up once again. Deep inside, a possible answer did plague him as to why sharing his deepest thoughts felt so difficult; maybe it was related to the fact that he doesn’t talk about himself as much as other people tend to do. He appreciates hearing other people’s thoughts and feelings, and finds comfort that they trust him to tell him those kind of things, but for him to open up himself was still a little off to him.

It was different with you. Other people would just go off and respect Gaara’s wishes not to talk about himself, and proceed to an almost one-sided conversation with Gaara just nodding in response. You always asked him, you always wanted to know more about him, but in a way that was not laced with any ounce of condescending pressure at all. Your words were calculated enough to encourage him, not to force him. He found comfort in the slight taste of curiosity that you offered to him, and in a way, it had made him much more open in regards to his thoughts and feelings.

Despite of being a nervous wreck at the moment, and as much as how embarrassed he was to admit it to himself, Gaara wanted to continue the conversation. A part of him wanted to selfishly indulge in it. He just needed a little breathing in between to get through it.

“I found myself… thinking about you. T-  thinking a lot about you, actually…” Gaara’s heavy-lidded gaze landed upon his cock being stroked softly against his abdomen, and the way you looked so encouragingly gentle on the contrary of literally playing with his cock at the moment was almost a complex combination of funny yet sexy in his view. “We were still friends at that time, and I… I actually felt guilty about it… because I was starting to have inappropriate thoughts about you, and I just… Y/N…” Gaara moaned your name, no longer able to continue, as the way you were stimulating him at that moment and the added effort of opening up for someone as private as him rendered him speechless.

“Just sit back and relax, love.” You cooed, as you wrapped a full fist around his pulsing dick, pumping your fist up and down as you found yourself leaning your face closer and closer towards it, taking in the sight of the muscle throbbing within the hollow of your fist.

“Gaara?”

“Y- yes?”

“Do you know oral sex?”

Gaara’s eyes were wide in surprise as soon as he heard what seems to be a potential proposition you could be speaking of minutes later. A thought so alienatingly foreign, yet somehow, he had already envisioned you doing it while he jerked off his cock deep into the sleepless night of having nothing but fervent, erotic thoughts about you.

Oral sex, huh?

He had read about it, probably twenty pages into that green book that the sixth Hokage himself; Hatake, Kakashi, gave him during his diplomatic visit in Sunagakure before opening his cabinet and shoving it inside out of panic.

…But through his jittering nerves, he did pick up the book from the shelf to take it home, and the provocative imagery that the book embedded into his innocent mind as he took in sentences of nothing but pure, lustful sex, did make his trousers tight in response.

The deeper he got into the book, the more he didn’t realize that he was already stroking his cock while he laid back on the comfort of his couch, legs spread open, back pressed against the cushion sluggishly as he continued to pump his fist slowly up and down his throbbing dick, moaning your name in between the wet, skin slapping noises that ripped through the silence of his house.

In his mind, you were enthusiastically bobbing your head up and down in between his thighs.

“I am… I am aware of it.”

You gulped in response, as the sight of the tip of his cock starting to glisten more with the erupting lust from his cock ignited a hunger inside you, and with letting your instincts tore through, you wrapped your other fist in his cock, before taking in the one where your thumb is wet his pre-cum, and putting it in your mouth to taste.

“Shit.” Gaara shut his eyes closed in an exasperated arousal.

“Do you want to know how it feels?” You whispered seductively, as you placed your dominant hand once again to pump his cock up and down.

“A- are you comfortable with it?” Gaara asked with concern despite the lustful haze he was starting to get lost in.

“I am,” A small smirk made its way on your lips. “I want to… I want to wrap my mouth around it.”

“Around… what?” Gaara asked, eliciting a surprised reaction not only from you, but from himself as well.

“Around your huge, throbbing cock.” You teased, earning another yet breathy cuss from Gaara.

Just before you were about to take his throbbing member into your mouth, Gaara whispered your name softly to tug on your attention, and you were met by the utter gentleness in his eyes. Gaara tucked a stray hair behind your ear, before allowing his thumb to brush across your cheek. “You don’t have to do it… if you don’t want to… okay? You’re the one who gets to decide what you want to do, my love… You can stop anytime you want to, do not mind me at all.”

Your chest fluttered at his caring reminder. “Thank you, Gaara…” You leaned towards him, as you pressed another peck of kiss upon his lips. “Don’t forget about yourself too, alright? If you want me to stop, tell me right away, okay?”

Gaara nodded with a smile as he thanked you back softly in return. After telling him to lay down and relax, you started to trace a trail of downward kisses from his jaw, and down his sensitive neck. You peppered the plane of his collarbone with gentle pecks in between telling him how perfect he was. Gaara’s flushed face was angled towards the ceiling, his breathing a little loud and laboured as he tried to meet your gaze after telling him to look at you. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, love. Every inch of you is more than perfect to me.”

“Y/N…” A shocked, breathy gasp escaped his lips when you flicked the side of your index finger against his nipple.

“Too ticklish?” You asked gently, getting an embarrassed nod from Gaara as he tried to cover half of his face with his forearm. “That’ll be reserved for next time…” You mumbled with a smirk, making Gaara shudder as his thoughts began to run wild.

“I- I didn’t say I didn’t like it… I was just-“ Gaara parted his thighs apart, the ample space it resulted to allowing you to rest down on your breasts and stomach comfortably.  I- uhm, is your position comfortable? Don’t hesitate to tell me if you need a pillow, or if you want me to… uh change my position...” He mumbled caringly. You nodded at him, reassuring your anxious lover that everything’s fine at the moment, there was no need to worry.

“Ready?” You asked with a slight, coy smile on your face, as you eyed the sopping wet tip of his cock while you sluggishly pumped your fist up and down his shaft. With a breathy moan alongside a nod from Gaara, you started to get down on your business.

You extended the tip of your tongue, pressing it flat against the underside; dragging your tongue back and forth before encircling it around the circumference of his pink, sensitive tip. Your fist remained as a slight grip around the base of his cock, with your index finger and thumb wrapping a loose, jerking off motion so that he doesn’t get too overwhelmed right away. As the encircling stimulation of your tongue got lower and lower, that was when you decided to take in the whole, pulsing tip into your wet mouth; earning another breathy gasp of your name from Gaara.

You allowed the soft, innerside of your pout to envelop the tip in a gradually tightening massage, sneaking your tongue in between the slight, back and forth motions of your head. Your attention was caught by the sound of rustling fabric, with your eyes falling down on to the side; only to see Gaara’s knuckles turning white as he placed a tight grip on the sheets in response to the bliss you were serving him. With the free hand that was resting above his thigh at the moment, you reached for his hand, brushing your palm above the back of it before intertwining your fingers in between his digits, pulling it over to rest it above his thighs as you placed your palm flat down above it.

His lower lip gradually dropped down in anticipation, as he locked his eyes upon the sight of your face, slowly taking in his arousal deep into your wet mouth. He gasped even louder when you didn’t bother stopping midway, as you went on to take whole length of his cock deeper and deeper into you, only halting when a loud, gagging sound ripped through the dead silence of the bedroom. You allowed yourself to choke around his dick once, twice, before releasing it with a lustful pop right before Gaara’s eyes, the teasing hint of euphoria of your airway being cut off making you mewl his name dirtily as you tried your best to chase your breath. Gaara’s whole body bathed itself in prortruding goosebumps, a reaction you saw yourself after seeing his thighs covered with the said bodily reaction.

Just before Gaara gets to speak a query of concern, you fixed your hair out of the way before diving his cock right into your mouth once again; as you have now decided to put an end in your teasing touch. You gripped the tip of his cock around the inner swell of your pout in place as you pumped your fist up and down the body of his dick; allowing your face to gradually dip downwards, your mouth slowly taking in more areas to suck and lick on while the rest of what’s yet to follow was still stimulated by the hollow of your fist.

“Y/N… w-what are you doing… ahh…” Gaara moaned helplessly before you as the increasing bliss continued to send jolts of euphoria down the rest of his body. “That feels… so good…” He felt so embarrassed to be mewling like this, but what you were doing with him at the moment, toying on his cock expertly just had him crumbling apart desperately under your touch. Gaara hastily sat up from having his back leaning against the pillows, with his palms now propped flat against the mattress on opposites sides of his body in hopes of supporting his diminishing composure. He shut his eyes closed, but a part of him wanted to take a peek on the real life counterpart itself of what he has been lewdly jerking off to for months. There were so many aspects of such acts that no amount of heavily-vivid imagination could ever come close, details that he took in carefully and mindfully.

Apart from the mind-wrecking sensation itself of having his cock be sucked off by his beloved, the consorting sounds it bears alongside with aroused him beyond anything. The way you breathed out helplessly as you release his cock with a pop, looking up to him with gently-innocent, yet ironically lustful eyes as if you were silently asking for further reaffirmation to settle down that you were making him feel good just drives him towards the edge. The sound of spit, rub, slurp and choke; the raw sound of wet-slapping skin as you jerked his rock hard cock before your flushed, glistening face, only to swallow his dick whole once again robbed him off of the capacity to communicate.

“I don’t think I-“ An uncontrolled moan interjected at his crippling ability to speak, as the established pace of your head bobbing up and down his sopping wet member started to tighten his lower abdomen in a familiar, addicting sensation. This was it, this was the feeling that he finds himself losing even the slightest ounce of rational thought. He folded up his thigh while the other remain rested upon the mattress. You frantically searched for his hand, placing it above your head and instructing him to lock his fingers in your hair. Gaara didn’t want to inflict pain on you, so he wrapped a loose fist of your locks, his fingerpads sneaking in to rub against your scalp in hopes of returning the smallest amount of favor in contrast to what you were doing with his cock at the moment.

He finds himself shuddering even more, as the wet, gulping sounds of your mouth coming down on his dick up and down continued to get louder and desperate with every down and upwards thrust. With a nervous swallow, Gaara tried to look down at you; and a barely audible cuss left his salivating mouth.

The increasing knot of impending orgasm in Gaara’s lower abdomen started to get tighter and tighter; his body jerking out of shock when you slyly brushed a thumb across his nipple once again. You stared at him back, giving him a sly wink before focusing on the task at hand once again. As you felt your jaw starting to get sore, you pulled his cock out of your mouth; jerking him off with your now, sloppy wet fist as you pressed his now overly sensitive tip against your tongue. Gaara’s chest was now heaving up and down desperately, his face angled towards the ceiling as his mouth gaped in utter, pure bliss. He looked back at you once again, and despite his blurring, lusftul gaze being blocked by strays of his messy, red hair, he saw how you arched your back, with your body now bending over erotically before his feasting eyes; and before any word of warning could have ever leave his panting mouth, you felt the tip of his cock pulse uncontrollably against your wet tongue; only to be followed by streaks of hot, thick cum jolting out of his convulsing arousal.

Your eyes widened in shock, as you look up towards Gaara whose face was contorted in what seemed to be nothing but raw and primal look of euphoria upon his flushed, open-mouthed face; an interjecting moan of bliss ripped from his heaving, sweating chest as his body convulsed against you. Gaara tried to pull away out of embarrassment, and the said gesture had only resulted to his what remains of his cum being milked down by his drawn out throbbing orgasm to paint a streak across your cheek; making you widen your eyes even more as Gaara continued to cum all over your face and your hair. Out of an instinctive flight response, Gaara quickly grabbed the pillow behind him, covered his face with it, and slumped down his back on the mattress.

As surprised as you were; the blur of Gaara’s muffled curses and heavy breathing against the pillow started to ring clearer towards your ears; his bashful response making you chuckle in return. You squeezed yourself beside Gaara, sneaking your hand underneath the pillow he had been covering himself up before hugging him from his side; your thigh placed above his as you relaxed your face against the supple pillow. “Are you okay?”

“…”

Gaara couldn’t still bring himself to talk, but with a soft, “I’ll be back.” He placed the pillow gently beneath your thigh in replacement of his as he stood up from the bed, yanking his boxer shorts upwards before confusingly walking outside the room. You wanted to ask him if he was okay, but he was so panickingly quick that even before you get to a speak a single syllable, he has already bolted outside the door.

“So that’s what it tasted like…” You thought to yourself, as a feverish flush painted your cheeks warm; your stomach coiling bashfully as your buried your face deep into the pillow. You weren’t going to lie, giving Gaara his very first blowjob was something you have been thinking about before. The thought itself alone was fervently erotic, but the literal act itself that just took place earlier was beyond anything your mind could have ever muster. How he moaned your name breathily as you slurped his cock into your mouth sent you addiciting shivers down your spine.

You snaked a palm down your stomach, your curious fingers inching and inching closer towards your arousal; you sneaked your digits underneath the constricting fabric of your shorts and your underwear; and you cussed inwardly as your fingerpads were met by how sopping wet your slick was. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts before lifting your ass from the mattress and swiftly discarding the said article of clothing off of you and tossing it on the floor.

Fuck, sucking your lover’s cock was indeed arousing.

Just after cleaning your face off of Gaara’s cum with your discarded shirt, Gaara entered the bedroom once again, both his hands busy as he carried a glass of water and a dessert plate on the other hand… containing a slice of… cake?

Gaara awkwardly tiptoed his way towards the bed. He placed the glass and the plate on top of the nightstand, his gaze and smile endearing yet still so… shaky. A soft creak of the bed responded as he sat on the edge of the mattress, facing you directly while you were now leaning your back against the headboard, your upper naked body covered up by the soft, fluffy pillow. Gaara placed his palm on top of your hand that was resting on your lap, his thumb giving an encircling rub. "I… uhm… I got you something.” Gaara mumbled under his breath. “I- I know that the taste of semen isn’t entirely too pleasing as I have tasted mine b- before-“ He almost choked on the last word of his sentence as he realized what he just said, making him whisper an almost inaudible “what am I saying?” to himself as he rubbed both of palms against his cheeks out of frustration.

Choosing not to inquire further to spare him the additional embarrassment, you chuckled to yourself as you reached out for the glass of water, drinking it halfway through before returning it on top of the nightstand once again; letting a satisfied sigh rip from your chest after the chill rehydration. “Thank you so much, Gaara. This was very nice of you.”

You leaned your body towards the nightstand, allowing Gaara to see the naked, graceful curve of your back as you unintentionally bent over before him, as you only wanted to have a bite or two of the cake; the decadence yet the muted sweetness of it rolling nicely upon your tongue. You sliced the fork into the dessert, placing a cupping palm below it in case it falls as you shuffled your way through the bed; facing Gaara once again.

“Have a bite, too.” You smiled softly at him.

Gaara’s blush grew a deeper hue, his eyes falling down to the side as he opened his mouth slightly to take in the slice of cake into his mouth. He chewed slowly as you watched him curiously while you took another sip of water before handing it to him so he could cleanse his palate as well; earning a soft worded gratitude from him.

You folded your thighs towards your chest, leaning your chin down against your forearms that was resting above your knees as you continued to gaze at him, and Gaara couldn’t help but be even more fidgety under your stare. “Gaara?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Gaara sighed before nodding slowly in response. “Yes… yes, I am. I’m really sorry… I’m just flustered.”

“Really? Why?” You inquired gently.

“It’s… it’s my first time. A- and I know that it’s your first time too… It’s just… it felt so good.” Gaara trailed off, as he gathered his scrambled thoughts with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried that I’m going to end up doing something wrong, or in my case at the moment… I already did something wrong… I’m really sorry, my love.”

“Gaara…”

This time, you held his hand, tugging on his attention as his quivering stare tried to meet your eyes once again. Your eyes were full of warmth, a very inviting sense of care that he couldn’t help but be drawn to; and before he even realizes it, he has already pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. He closed his eyes, savoring the emotions he was bathing himself as he continued to display such adoring act that you utmostly deserved.  

“There’s nothing you should be saying sorry for.” You held his hand, brushing soft strokes against it before leaning your face closer to kiss it gently. “Also, please remember that we’re not in a hurry. We can always take our time.”

Gaara nodded with a sigh, his eyes expressing what seem to be a tad bit of loneliness and disappointment in himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You whispered carefully, following  up with another statement in order to reduce the pressure on your lover. “If you don’t want to, that would be fine as well… we can just cuddle and sleep. If you do need some space to think about it, I wouldn’t mind that, too. Anything you choose to do would be fine, okay? Anything, love.”

Gaara’s eyes softened, his heart and stomach warming and tightening up in a coil as he couldn’t help but feel so vulnerably comfortable with you.

Your eyes widened out of curiosity when you saw Gaara peel his shirt off of his body, only to put it over your head as he gently reached out for each of your hand to assist it towards the armholes of the clothing. “Thought you might start feeling cold…” Gaara mumbled with a soft smile on his face as he continued to gaze at you with a pair of adoring eyes.

“But now… you’ll feel cold.” You poked his naked, toned chest teasingly.

“Not entirely so.” Gaara chuckled. “Because I know you’ll be here all night to keep me warm.” He mumbled with a genuine smile on his face before reaching out for the blanket on the bedroom floor and covering himself from the back before tackling you down on the mattress playfully as both you giggled under the fabric.

“I’ll keep you warm for the rest of my life,” You whispered softly as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before pressing a kiss on top of his head; his face nestled in between your now clothed breasts. Gaara eyes widened after hearing such words, and with the overpouring gentleness and warmth that you continue to generously offer to him, he couldn’t help but close his eyes to allow himself to bask it in; in ardent hopes that your affections was something he truly deserved. To be adored and cared for in ways that he had given up on a long time ago as means of atonement, he was still far from being forgiving of himself at the moment; but your adoring words, your caring gestures had allowed him to warm up to such idea bit by bit.

You made him feel that he was worth loving after all; and in a complex, innate response that he somehow ends up feeling; he begins to love himself a little more than he’s been robbing himself of for so long.

Every ounce of emotions that he has tried to repress for so long started to gush through his system; and it placed him in a spiralling haywire of everything else in a blur in exception of you.

You.

You…

“I love you.” He thought to himself as his hands started to travel underneath your shirt, his lips peppering soft, pecking kisses towards your neck as he mirrored it himself how you shuddered beneath him when you traced the length of his naked spine upwards to his nape with soft scratch of your nails. “I love you.” The words never left his mouth as he continued to spoke it inwardly, all alone in himself to hear such confessions, “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much it almost hurts to say it.”

With his eyes heavy and his breathing labored, Gaara brushed his lips teasingly against your wet pucker; taking his time slowly as traced the outline of your lower lip with pecking kisses. With a soft sigh, Gaara closed his eyes gently as he leaned his face forward. He suckled on your lower lip; and with a gentle bite that parted your mouth ever so slightly, Gaara inserted his tongue inside your mouth.

Oh, how he fought through his nerves.

Gaara placed his thumb and forefinger above your chin, his other hand resting above the side of your face. Gaara halted the kiss for a second, his heavy-lidded gaze taking in the sight of you before shoving himself towards you once again. You felt his thumb stroke your cheek softly as his middle and ring finger brushed gently against the skin of your ear; the endearing gesturing weakening your composure even more as you found yourself succumbing to his affectionate kiss. His tongue unraveled the depths of your mouth with a slow, loving pace; striking an interesting contrast, as despite his hunger for you, Gaara couldn’t help but still find himself savoring you as if he would never, ever run out of all the time in this world.

The longer his kiss dragged on, the more he realized that it was as if the gentle taste of your wet mouth imprinted a soul-numbing addiction into him. And if you were to directly ask Gaara about it, he knew damn well that beyond the red face and the shaky effort to avoid your penetrating gaze, he’s just too honest to deny that he’s beyond smitten at this point, and the lone thought that he only he could conjure right at this moment is you, and the fact that both of you were basically making out with each other inside his bedroom.

With a firm suck on your tongue, Gaara released you from his fervent, smothering kiss; a smile cracking on his lips as he pressed his forehead against you.

“Am I deemed to be lacking in your standards, or do I somehow… pass just enough?” Gaara chuckled.

“Don’t sell yourself too short now.” You giggled back, sneaking in a pinch on his cheek to tease him. “You’re an amazing kisser. You’re already beyond skilled, to be honest.”

“Really?” Gaara’s cheeks were now rose-colored in bashfulness, as your compliments never failed to make his heart race.

You nodded at him encouragingly, embedding a deeper smile on his lips.

“I love you.” You whispered lovingly to him.

Gaara shut his eyes closed as he felt his chest tightened.        

“Don’t say it again, not now; not yet.” He pleaded silently to himself.

It scares him.

It scares him so much at how weak feels like, at how needy he was of your love.

It scares him, it scares him so much.

“Please, not now.”

“I love you, Gaara,” You mumbled with the most endearing smile he had seen in the entirety of his life.

Gaara shut his eyes closed, squinting his lids tighter and tighter in hopes of cutting off the impending tears that was starting to swell in both corners of his eyes. His eyes were now glassy and heavy, as he started to smother needy, pecking kisses all over your face, down the path of your jaw; licking and suckling on the skin of your neck in shallow and deeper intervals; Gaara traced a linear path down the middle of your clothed breasts; the thin fabric of his shirt allowing a soft silhouette of your naked body underneath to show through.

Gaara threw the blanket off of his body before placing a loose grip on both sides of your hips, his thumbs sneaking a caressing touch on your skin as he began to plant kisses upon your clothed teat; the continuous surge of shudders painting the rest of your body as you arched your back a little with a soft moan when Gaara took in your fabric-covert nipple; suckling on it with a gradual increase of pressure; his face delayed yet in synonymous motion with how the tip of his tongue rolled over the nub in circles. He spat on the fabric, allowing you to feel the cold wetness of his saliva to peer through the threads. Gaara snaked his other hand upwards he placed a soft grasp above your other teat, flicking the side of his middle finger against the other nipple before wrapping it around with his index finger and thumb; encircling and tugging on it occasionally as your stiffened peak began to protrude through the fabric of his shirt.

As his hands went lower once again, hooking his thumb into the waistband of your underwear, he halted momentarily; before trying to meet your equally heavy-lidded gaze; “Can I?” He whispered ever so softly. You nodded in agreement; arching your back upwards as he began to pull away the sole, remaining fabric covering your bare body.

As bold as you may seem to be most of the time, having been seen naked by your lover for the first time had you conscious as well; as you tried to hide your worsening, flushed face underneath the cover of your forearms. As starstrucked as Gaara may be; he knew better now than to stay graveyard-silent this time; as worded expressions of adoration was something essential in establishing comfort during such acts of intimacy. With both hands, Gaara brushed his palms slowly underneath your thighs, stroking it upwards until he gripped you in place by the back of your knees. He pressed soft kisses against it, whispering stuttered, affirmations with a soft, breathy voice.

Gaara leaned downwards to brush a caressing touch against your jaw; smiling ever so gently at your adorable flusteredness. You felt him shuffle above you, and you flinched in surprise when you felt his hot breath fan against the side of your neck; as he was now laying on his side next to you.

“I figured… I should be closer towards you,” Gaara whispered into your ear. “So that you can tell me right away how you want my fingers to please you.” He mumbled breathily as he snaked his arm underneath the back of your head as means of support. “If you’ll allow me, please let me return the favor and make you feel good this time.”

You reached out for his hand that was resting above your thigh, placing it in between of your faces before giving it a soft kiss. You held his index and middle finger, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he watched you take his digits into your mouth; suckling on it with your eyes closed before fluttering them open once again, your eyes darting below you as you guided his hands towards the sopping arousal between your legs.

Gaara watched his guided digits carefully; as you parted his index and middle finger apart, before directing it to press softly up and down the outer lips of your lubricated slit. Gaara felt your arousal tense up slowly underneath his touch. You held his hand by the back of it before shyly commanding his fingers to brush briefly against the sopping center, allowing his fingerpads to trace a linear path upwards until it halted against your now, pulsing nub.

“T- that’s called the clitoris,” You mumbled shyly against him. “Penetrative foreplay such as fingering, or the penetrative act of sex itself,” You cleared your throat, “I- I guess it feels good… but the easiest way to make me cum is by rubbing my clit.” Your breathing went erratic when Gaara started to slowly rub against it under his own initiative. “It could be like… what I taught you earlier. Increase the pressure and pace gradually, do intervals with light and… ahh…” You clenched your thighs together slightly as Gaara’s skillful application of what he’s learning at the moment began to crumble you apart bit by bit. “a- and firm touches. The surrounding area might be less sensitive, but teasing in between would feel just as good,”

“Have you tried doing it on your own?” Gaara whispered, his voice sultry and deep.

“Y- yes…” You gasped softly under his touch.  “A lot…”

A grunt escaped his lips as his stomach coiled tight with the lewd imagery of you teasing your pussy with your own fingers.“C- can I kiss you?”

“Yes…” You moaned softly as he steadied his rounded, rubbing pace against your arousal, alternating between pressing up and down the sides before tracing the inner of your slick itself, only to massage your clit once again. “I- I would love that. You can also play with my breasts, if you’d like…”

Gaara shifted your body a little bit by snaking his forearm behind your upper back, propping his elbow against the mattress before elevating your body by your shoulders as you ended up inching your face closer towards his; with your panting breath now fanning directly across his lips. After a soft, fleeting kiss against your lips, Gaara whispered breathily into your ear, “Lift up your shirt for me, angel.”

You shuddered in response, biting your lips shyly as you hooked your index and middle finger into the hem of the shirt before pulling on it upwards, revealing your naked teats before his eyes. “Hold your breast closer to my mouth…” Gaara mumbled against your ear before leaning his face downwards, snuggling in the side of his face against the suppleness of your breasts before taking in the perk nipple into his hot, wet mouth; eliciting a jolt out of your quivering body. You couldn’t help but cuss under your breath with how erotic it was to the sight to hold your breast for him as he suckled on it greedily.

Everything was starting to feel like you were drowning in a euphoric trance; Gaara, as nervous as he was, was more than willing to compensate for his lack of experience by being an excellent, attentive lover, an enthusiastic one at that; with how he was working your body inside out as if he was desperate to deliver you the utmost euphoria. Every timbre of moan, gasp, a soft mewl or a lustful groan of his name in response to what he was doing, he takes in all of it calculatingly. His pace and pressure has been steady up to this point, his index and middle finger as it being continuously bathed lasciviously by your juices while he rubbed circles against your pulsing clit allowed him to start hearing soft, wet schlick noises, and how your cunt seemed get wetter and wetter by the time he started to toy with your nipples simultaneously aroused him beyond belief.

He wasn’t one for dirty talk, but at least not yet at the moment, but his genuine curiosity at how your body ticks and reacts was something he couldn’t help but wonder about.

“You’re so… wet…”

You couldn’t help but moan under his ministrations; half of it being your honest response with what he just said. “B-because… what you’re doing… it feels so good.” Your body jolted upwards when he used the hand that was holding you by your shoulders to sneak in a teasing, left-to-right flick of his index finger against your other nipple. “Gaara…”

Gaara built up his suckling on your hardened nipple before releasing it in a slow, erotic pop. “Yes, my love?”

“I want you to…” You moaned breathlessly before him as you started to rub your palm against the back of his hand once again. “I want you to finger me…”

Gaara’s breathing hitched in response, the hot air leaking past his panting, open mouth sending shivers down your spine as it continued to fan against your bare neck as he looked up to you. “How would you like me to do it?”

“Insert it slowly, just one finger at first.”

“Do you want me to proceed after every instruction, or would you like me to hear everything first-“

“Gaara.” You chuckled against him, pressing the tips of your index and middle finger to loosen the wrinkle on his forehead as his face started to get serious once again.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbled. “I’m just… worried that I might hurt you.”

“Well… slight discomfort might be something that should be expected, since… it is our first time after all… But, I mean…” You pulled your hand away from guiding his for a brief moment, tucking in a stray of hair behind his ear before pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead. “What I just want to say is, I trust you; I trust you a lot. I know that you will always take care of me no matter what.”

Gaara pouted slightly in response, as he couldn’t help but be so calm and comforted with how you talk to him like that. He just feels so at ease and loved throughout the whole process, at how understanding you were of him. “Tell me right away if you want me to stop, okay?”

You nodded at him with a smile. “I will, don’t worry.”

And with a reassuring nod from both of you at the same time, Gaara rubbed fleeting circles against your nub before slowly slipping in his index finger into your wet slick, sliding it inch by inch, with Gaara halting right at the middle. “You can go deeper.” You chuckled. Gaara followed your instruction, earning a soft sigh from you when it finally entered you fully.

“It’s so… soft.” Gaara mumbled, his voice laced with a hint of wandering curiosity.

“Yeah…” You whispered back with a sigh. “You can explore it, just be gentle and slow on making your way around.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really… since I’m very turned on at the moment…” You whispered shyly.  

“Oh.” Gaara chuckled, his voice low and deep. A slight ‘o’ shaped your pucker as a blissful mewl escaped it when Gaara started to trace gentle, stirring motions inside your pussy, having it in intervals as he also stroked the upper walls of your cunt. Gaara took your response as a positive affirmation, making him a little more confident this time.

“S- slip in… another finger…” You mewled.

Gaara looked up to you, his face mixing in both parts of hesitance and impending lust. “Are you sure?” He whispered.

You nodded at him before another yet breathy groan left your panting mouth, as he begun to slowly insert his middle finger into you; the gradual stretch that followed becoming much more evident to feel. A whispered cuss followed through when you felt Gaara grind his clothed cock slightly against your thigh, as it started to get rock hard once again.

You ran your fingers down his chest, snaking down your palm against the plane of his stomach, tracing it downwards until you felt the waistband of his boxer shorts against your fingertips. With a sly smirk, you began rubbing your palm across his boxer shorts; feeling in the silhouette of his hardening arousal protrude through the fabric, making Gaara groan in response.

“Do this,” You gestured a sluggish ‘come hither’ movement with your fingers before returning it on top of Gaara’s boxer shorts. You moaned against him when he started to follow through, going for the gesture once, twice and thrice; retreating it out to rub teasingly against your clit before doing it again and again.

Schlick.

Schlick.

Schlick.

Even Gaara’s knuckles were soaking wet at this point, and he couldn’t help but have the curiosity in regards to how the taste of your pussy would roll on his tongue if he were to insert his fingers into his mouth. Gaara retreated his fingers, inching it closer to his face; parting his index and middle finger apart to see how far would the string of your wetness stretch out. In a lusftful daze, Gaara shoved his fingers into his mouth, suckling on it fervently; licking even the smallest trace of your arousal off of his digits.

Fuck, you taste so good.

Gaara raked his fingernails through the base of your scalp with his other hand, inhaling the scent of your locks as he continued to swallow in the sound of your sopping wet cunt being fingered and rubbed by his very own fingers. A gasp escaped his lips as he felt your palm crawl down underneath his boxers, and before he could muster a mewl of your name, you were already palming the pulsing body of his cock.

“Gaara…” You mewled desperately, making him shudder in response as he kept drowning deeper in the sweet sound of your moans. “I think I’m cumming, fuck…” You darted your eyes down, your heavy-lidded gaze taking in the erotic sight of his fingers entering and disappearing back and forth inside your cunt. The pleasure was beginning to get the best of you, and it wasn’t long until it began to overtake your sense of control over your own body; as your bliss-soaked cries began to get louder and louder to consort the increasing rock of your hips, almost riding against the curved digits that was plunging inside and out of your now tightening pussy. You took your hand from Gaara’s cock, sneaking in a desperate, circular strokes against your clit to coincide with his steadied fingering, “I’m cumming, Gaara! I’m-“  and with a loud, selfish scream of your lover’s name, you bucked your hips upwards; allowing your thighs to writhe and shake as you rode the heights of your orgasm in reckless abandon, whimpering Gaara’s name again and again until you could no longer muster anything incomprehensible. “Yes, yes… ahh…” You slapped your palm against your mouth, muffling out the continous drip of cries until it almost felt like you were choking on your unspoken euphoria as the length of your orgasm continued to render your body weak and shaking.

Fuck.

That felt so good…

“Y/N…”

Gaara was in shock.

His face might not reflect it at the moment, but he was genuinely stupefied by the intensity of it.

“Shit,” You cussed breathily as you tried your best to stablize your labored breathing. “Shit… that was amazing.” There was a hint of utter surprise in your remark as well, and it wasn’t long until you slapped your palms against your flushed cheeks as you began to laugh out of shock as well. “Fuck, did that just happen?”

Gaara sighed loudly as he slumped his back against the mattress, the realization hitting him just as hard as well like a punch on the gut. “Fuck.”

“What did you just-“ The way he cussed for the very first time made you completely erupt in laughter. You clutched your stomach as a slight hint of pain began to stir it, but when you tilted your head towards his face and you met Gaara’s gaze once again, you laughed even harder this time. You grabbed his arm by the wrist as you rested your weight on the side of your body, shifting your position and making him hug you from behind since your back was starting to feel a little sore and heavy. “I can’t believe you just said fuck.”

Gaara chuckled back as he playfully buried his face into the crook of your neck, eliciting a tickled reflex from you. He responded back by nuzzling his face deeper into the curve of it, nudging it left to right until both of you were giggling childishly together. “I loved it…” He whispered softly against the skin of your neck as he hugged you closer towards his body. The way his labored breathing started to calm down as you felt the heaving of his chest subside against your back relaxed you.

“You loved what?” You mumbled back as you entangled your fingers in between his digits, basking in the warmth and suppleness of his palm. You held his hand in front of your face, taking the sight of it with a loving smile as you closed your eyes before pressing a soft peck upon the back of it.

“The way… the way you get so into it…” Gaara retreated his hand briefly to tuck your hair behind your ear and to gently brush the remaining scattered mane away from your neck so that his face was directly pressing against your skin. He returned his hand back to your grip, entangling his fingers with yours on his own. You felt his chin rest upon the plane of your shoulders; his hot breath tickling your ear as he leaned even closer towards you. “Like you can’t get enough of it, like you want so much more… from me…”

“Gaara…” Your voice almost disappeared into thin air as a sigh tore through your sentence; the familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks as you began to feel something stiff pressing against your tailbone. An almost inaudible yelp escaped your lips as he pulled you even closer to him; his embrace getting tighter and tighter by the minute as his breathing began to function erratically once again.

Gaara’s body felt like it was being bathed in the warmth of a calm, burning flame. He felt so hot, so bothered, yet somehow the rising temperature seeps into his skin like a slow, gentle embrace. His chest and throat was beginning to feel dry and constricted, worsening his desperation to breathe. He could feel the deepening timbre of his heartbeat, and he would by lying if he said that he wasn’t terrified. This was all so new… so foreign, to him.  Gaara didn’t know exactly how to respond to it; his rational thinking process wasn’t in tact, leaving him with nothing but a jumble of words and phrases that barely scratched the surface of how he really felt at that moment.

Underneath the shallows of his confusion, he somehow recognized that there was an epiphany beneath it all; its edges jagged and blurry, all because he tries so desperately to see his emotions through a concise, logical standpoint; the one he can easily explain, the one he can support with facts. He has a hard time allowing himself to feel something he can’t comprehend because it feels like it cripples his sense of control; and that alone scares him.

But that wasn’t what he needed, that wasn’t the one who’s going to help him at all.

He was now dealing with a language that his own body speaks for itself; a language that wouldn’t drip perfectly-worded explanations from the tip of his tongue.

He just needs… to feel it as it is.

Every last bit of it.

“I want it bare against me…” You whispered under your breath. Your remark earned an almost exasperated groan from your lover; the build-up of excitement coiling his stomach in an increasing grip making him bury his face deep into your shoulder. A gasp tore through your shallow breathing as you felt the familiar warmth of his cock embedding a girthy silhouette against your lower back.

“Ahh…” He moaned into your ear; the ring of pleasure bathing the timbre of his voice sending mutual shivers on yours and his own spine. He didn’t understand why, but it seemed like allowing himself to verbalize his carnal desires outspokenly somehow increased his sense of euphoria. The way that his bare cock grinded against the supple curve of your tailbone sent him towards the edge. “Y/N…”

You shifted your body upwards and deepened the curve of your back; offering your ass as an enthusiastic opportunity for luscious friction reserved for his private gratification. You stretched your hand behind you, your fingers tiptoeing lines all over his skin before planting a firm grip above his toned ass, giving it a sluggish, relaxing squeeze before resting your grasp above his hipbone as you helped him thrust his body forward. A deeper flush graced his face, the slight shock of having his backside squeezed and the fact that he moaned in response flustering him even more.

“Gaara?” You bit your lip, as you could you feel your heat starting to desire more and more.

“Y- yes…?” Gaara halted the grinding of his hips.

“Would you like to grind it against… me?”

“B- but I already… am…” The realization that chased his scrambled thoughts afterwards had hit him like a whiplash. “Oh…”

“Y- you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, of course.” You quickly followed up as you felt him slightly tense up behind you. You placed his hand in front of your face before giving it comforting, repeated pecks.

“Y/N…” Gaara mumbled breathily against you. “I want it, too…”

“Gaara…”

“Tell me…” Gaara swallowed the lump in his throat as his mouth began to feel drier. “Tell me… where you want me to grind against… I- I need to know that I did not misunderstand anything.”

If it even was possible, the warmth in your cheeks continued to burn even more.

“Uhm… g- grind it…” The scalding heat enveloping the rest of your body was starting to make you feel dizzy. “Against my pussy…”

“Shit.” He cussed breathlessly, his barely audible voiced laced down with a mix of panic and arousal.

The way your heartbeat sank your chest deeper in every pulse paralleled his own bodily reaction; yours and his own breathing loud and labored. A subtle yelp of anticipation left your panting mouth when you felt his palm run a linear path down behind your thigh; halting upon contact against the back of your knee before parting your thighs apart; assisting you to plant your foot behind his body. You couldn’t help but blush even harder at the lewd nature of your disposition.

…And the fact that you loved it like that made it even worse.

“A- are you sure that you really want to do this?” Gaara cooed into your ear.

You hooked your thumb into the waistband of his boxer shorts to tug it down even lower.

“I am, Gaara…”

You darted your gaze down below, a bite on your lip tearing through your moan as you felt the stiff silhouette of Gaara’s cock hovered in between your sopping folds. You rested your back against Gaara’s body, tilting your face towards him to meet his gaze; with a slight nod from you, Gaara took a deep breath before thrusting his hips upwards.

Ever so slow… and almost unbearably shallow.

“Ohh…” You mewled as the wet, spongy tip of his cock brushed briefly against your still, sensitive clit.

I guess it could be said that there was almost a certain feel of fullness to it. His cautious pace allowed you to take a fleeting sip of what is yet to be unraveled and, it’s doing nothing but make you beg for more. “Grind it deeper, Gaara… Please…”

Gaara’s face was in a continuous wince of bliss; as he couldn’t help but almost salivate pantingly in response to the overwhelming affection and sensation that he was currently taking in all for himself alone. He could feel himself shudder in pleasure as you started to get dripping wet once again; making it easier for his dick to grind up and down your soaking slit. The starting point of his thrust would begin at the sensitive area just below the actual entrance of your slick before having his veined, thick-girthed cock separate the folds of your cunt ever so deliciously. The suppleness of your labia clung onto his stiffened member with a bare hint of grip as he continued to rub it lewdly against you. Gaara planted kiss upon the roundness of your shoulder before resting his forefinger and middle finger on top of opposite sides of your folds before spreading them apart, having your throbbing clit further out exposed; making it much more easier for the tip of his cock to grind against your nub.

Again and again.

“Fuck…” You shut your eyes tight before fluttering them open once again, groaning at the sight of the pink tip of his stiffness peaking through your groin.

“I- I’m a my limit, Y/N…” Gaara whispered weakly, his breathing rendered erratic for worse. “I think I’m going to cum again…”

You did notice that his thrusts were getting sloppier and shaky, but you wanted to keep the momentum and steadiness in tact so that your lover gets the best out of his impending orgasm. “L- Lay down… on your back…”

With a flushed face and a gasping mouth, Gaara nudged his face affectionately against your cheek before pulling the pillows closer to him. He laid on his back, a sense of nervousness and anticipation peeking through his heavy lidded gaze. You tugged on the fabric of his boxer shorts before peeling them all the way down. You planted your knees down against the mattress, straddling either side of his hips. The hem of his shirt hung way too low on your body, so you decided to pull the fabric over your head and set it aside. Gaara couldn’t help but sigh exasperatedly at such erotic sight of his fully naked beloved sitting on top of him. You leaned your body forward, placing your palm on top of the other as you rested it above his upper abdomen; the position of your arms rendering your tits squeezed together. “Y- you’re about to cum soon, right?”

“Y- yes, my love…” Gaara groaned as he began to feel your sopping flesh grind against him once again. The abundance of your juices rendered his groin and scarlet pubic hair to be glistening wet. You rocked your hips a little farther behind, allowing your cunt to not only stroke his pulsing cock, but his balls as well. A loud, uncontrolled moan tore through Gaara’s quiet cries when you began to thrust forward, the soft impact sending an electrifying jolt on his trembling body.

“K- keep going…” Gaara covered half of his face with his forearm, the intensity of watching you in such a compromising act becoming a little too overwhelming for him.

There was just something so… dirty and erotic about the whole thing. The fact that the act was nestling perfectly in between two, utterly separate things just felt so carnal. Both of you weren’t technically having sex, but at the same time, there was this bare feeling of your cunt being lusciously filled by the thick girth of his cock, and there was a teasing taste of what’s it’s like for his dick to be choked by the suppleness and wetness of your pussy. It was the state of not doing it but already feeling a rather addicting hint of it that drove both of you to the very edge.

“I’m cumming…” Gaara whimpered pantingly as he shrugged his shoulder tight, and with a firm, forward thrust of your body, Gaara shot his thick load all over his abdomen; some of it even reaching his chest. You retreated back your body to see how his dick trembled uncontrollably against his lower abdomen as it continued to spurt his thick cum before thrusting your pussy forward once again; earning a loud cry from Gaara’s panting mouth. His chest heaved up and down heavily, little breathy sighs of bliss escaping him as he let his orgasm run its course. “Ah… ahh… Y/N…” He mumbled in between his gasps.

Gaara flinched when he felt your index finger trace a line on top of his stomach. You brushed his forearm away from his hand so that he gets to see you tasting his cum of off your finger; the very sight of it covering his skin with goosebumps. Even with such an erotic face; you cracked a gentle, reassuring smile towards him before reaching out for his shirt, using the fabric to wipe the remaining cum off of his abdomen. Gaara’s eyes softened, the beat of his heart ringing with an affectionate and warm pulse as he watched you take care of him ever so gently. “That was great, Gaara…”

He didn’t understand why, his thought process at the moment was in deep shambles. Gaara thought that was all to it, but his chest was still getting warmer, and his stomach was still getting tighter. He was already begging himself to stop because it was becoming almost unbearable to feel, but his emotions still paced through and through. He was beginning to feel lightheaded due to his debilitating ability to breathe; worsening his impending meltdown, and with a soft caress of your hand on his cheek, and that ever so endearing, comforting smile; he might have shut his eyes tight as early as he was able to, but his tears were already streaming down his face.

A shocking jolt of panic sent your body to sit down beside him, your chest feeling like it was in a tight, choking grasp. “Hey, hey…” You whispered softly as you helped him sit down, relaxing his back against the headboard. You wrapped an arm behind his shoulders, cooing out affirming words as sobbed quietly into the back of his hand. You pulled him into a hug by the back of his neck, your other hand combing fingers through his hair as you pressed a kiss against his forehead. You felt his arm snake around your body from behind. “It’s okay, Gaara… I’m he-“

Your sentence was cut off when Gaara placed a soft grip on top of your jaw, gestured your face towards him, and pressed his lips against yours. Gaara’s kiss lingered with so much affection and longing that you couldn’t help succumb every bit of yourself to it. He propped his knee beside your opposite hip before shifting his position and situating his body on top of your lap without breaking the kiss even for a second. He was groaning audibly into your mouth as you were rendered almost drunk of how intoxicating the taste of his mouth was. You were already cornered by your lover as you felt the headboard press firm against your back, but Gaara was still shoving himself towards you, feral and starving as he lapped on your tongue selfishly.

“G- Gaara…” You whimpered breathlessly in between as he continued to tower over you, the sound of your wet mouth being explored by your lover’s tongue eagerly sending shivers down your spine. His kisses grew desperate by the minute as he chased the diminishing air in his lungs, and with a low growl, Gaara released you from his grasp; dropping his head down right away to his lap in order to avoid your gaze. The sound of his pants dominating over yours as his shoulder heaved up and down with his constricted chest. His knuckles turned white above his lap, a visible frustration being out in display as you stared at how he clenched his fists tightly into a ball. You reached out for it, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. His eyes softened at the sight; your caring gesture making him hold your hand in front of his face before pressing a kiss against the back of it, and before you know it, he has already leaned his body forward; lips brushing against yours in a much more gentle peck.

“I’m scared…” Gaara mumbled under his breath as he buried the side of his head into your neck, his face angled towards the side so he could speak clearly.

“Of what?” You replied worriedly.

“Of this.”

His answer felt like it jabbed a sharp sensation into your chest, but you swallowed your reaction to allow him to speak his mind. You stayed quiet, the silence you offered paving way for his faint, nervous sighs to be much more audible.

“I’m terrified of this, Y/N.” Gaara said weakly as he reached out for your hand and rested it above his heaving chest. Gaara landed his gaze down upon your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb as he allowed your palm to press contact against his skin. It was faint to the touch, but the familiarity of it made it easier for you to understand what he was trying to say. His heartbeat was slow, yet deep; the weight of its pulse making it harder to bear than a quick-paced one. It was a type that laced a hint of pain with how much love and affection it rung with.

You remained silent, but you brushed your lips on top of his sweat-dampened hair in hopes of relaxing him even just a little bit. He couldn’t help but shut his eyes tight as his chest hammered harder againt your palm; the smallest of your gestures enveloping him in so much tenderness that he had never had the luxury of receiving for so long.

“I had never felt something like this…” Gaara smiled to himself as he began to think of all the memories that you two had since the very beginning. “It’s so… warm… it feels like a lot of things all at once…” He chuckled as his words began to run out again. It was frustrating to not be able to express one’s self eloquently, but he was so flustered at the moment that he was beginning to derive the slightest humor in it. “I have never felt such joy, but at the same time, I have never felt such dread…”

You stroked his hair with your fingertips, not even a word leaving your mouth to allow him to speak comfortably.

“It feels like it’s reaching out to me, like it’s telling me that it was fine… it was a safe space that I can be vulnerable around with once again.” He breathed in before speaking once again.” That I can be happy without having to put up… so many walls…” His voice almost seemed like it was about to disappear into thin air. “But at the same time, I do know that once it disappears, I will never be the same again; and that terrifies me.”

“Gaara…”

“But… do remember that you don’t have to return my feelings for the rest of your life, you don’t have to promise me anything.” He mumbled with a weak smile. “I am already more than grateful for what you have graced my life with.”

Your chest got heavier and heavier by the second as you continued to listen to your lover.

“When the time comes… where being with me harbors nothing but pain and loneliness, you are free to be on your own.” He whispered faintly against you, his words becoming harder to discern in between his choked sniffle and heavy breathing. “I will not take that away from you, my love.”

“Gaara…” Your voice croaked as your tears began to swell up on the corner of your eyes. You knew it yourself that if he says another word, your crippled control over your emotions would fail completely.

“Either way, no matter where you choose to go,” Gaara pulled back his face from your shoulder, returning his gentle caress on the side of your cheek before pressing a kiss against your forehead. “For me, it will always be you.”

Your eyes fluttered open briefly before shutting them tight once again as your tears began to stream down your cheeks. In one swift motion, you pulled Gaara downwards and dove your face forward for a kiss. He entangled his fingers deep into your locks, his grip laced with a gentle firmness as you reciprocated it by wrapping your arms behind his nape to pull him closer to you. “I’m scared, too…” You whispered weakly in between his kisses. “But I can’t help it, Gaara. I just can’t.” You sniffled in between as you continued to tug his body downwards until you were once again in the same position as you were earlier; back pressed hard against the headboard, mouth wide open, breathless. “I love you, Gaara.”

Gaara growled lowly into your mouth as your words continued to set his body in flames. Hearing it again jabbed a crippling shot against his sense of control. “I love you…” You continued to moan pantingly beneath him.

“Please…” Gaara pleaded softly as he grew weaker and weaker by the minute, his voice cracking upon his pleas.

“I love you, Gaara… I really do…” Your voice broke as you stroked his cheeks softly.  

Underneath the entrancing, lingering stare he has you under, there was a deep-seated conflict that resides within himself. It was a beautiful imagery that he found himself embedding deep into his mind; the way your lips curved and parted as those three words left your mouth. He kept hearing it,; the exact, gentle timbre of your voice, despite the fact that you were now silently breathing under him as you stared back at him adoringly. It feels like he was nakedly vulnerable against it, it feels like a trance that’ll make him succumb every bit of himself just to hear it once again.

Gaara dove his face forward, his kisses emanating nothing but pure need, a raw desperation to remind himself that this was indeed happening, that this was his reality now; that after all the years he has suffered alone, he was now finally given the very chance to fall in love and to be loved back ever so genuinely. “You’re really here, right?” Gaara mumbled desperately in between his fervent kisses as he snaked his hand behind the back of your head, entangling his fingers through your locks gently as he angled your face better for a much more deeper kiss. He closed his eyes before leaning for another kiss, nibbling and sucking on your lip; swallowing your taste hungrily as if he wanted to own you all for himself. “When I wake up tomorrow, you’ll still be here with me, right?”

The further you swam in the very depths of his affections, the more you it terrified you; as his deepest conflicts and resolutions mirrored exactly how you felt about him; and to be so mutually entwined with one another almost felt too good to be true.

But, it was.

It was the truth.

“I’m never going to leave you,” You whispered back as you stroked the side of his face with your fingers, tucking in strays of his beautiful, red locks as you returned the urgency of his kisses ever so passionately. “When you wake up tomorrow, I’ll be the first one you’ll see. When you sleep tomorrow night, I’ll be the last one you’ll see. I promise, Gaara. I promise you that. You’re not going to be alone anymore, I’ll always be with you no matter what.”

His tears flew free now, basking in every ounce of emotions that he has repressed for so long. He was right, he thought to himself. Love really did feel like a lot of things happening all at once. He had never felt so free, adored, terrified, yet ironically calm at the same time. It was a complex emotion that so fucking consuming, and he no longer bring himself to stop. He had never felt so willing to surrender himself without any ounce of doubt.

A genuine smile graced his tear-stained face, a grin so truthful that he couldn’t help but bask it in with his eyes closed as he continued to press pecking kisses upon your wet face. “Take me as you please. I am yours, forever.” He held your knuckles in front of his face, fluttering his eyes closed as he dropped kisses on it endearingly.

“Take me as you please, too…” You mumbled with a soft smile before wrapping your forearms behind his neck once again, tugging his body down as you laid your back once again on top of the mattress. You raked your fingers through the base of his scalp as you continued to swallow his wet groans into your open mouth, moaning just as blissfully as his kisses continued set your body in fire. You pulled back from the fervent kiss, darting the tip of your tongue out to lick a path up his throat; making Gaara shudder breathlessly as he felt your pucker nibble and suckle the edge of his jaw before biting in softly the spot below his neck.

Gaara snaked his hand behind your nape, interlocking his fingers with your locks and planting a firm fist of it as he pulled it backwards, allowing him lap on the skin of neck your selfishly. A sudden moan from his wet mouth vibrated against your skin when you sank his hips lower and you bucked your body upwards to have a sly grind of your soaking slit against his now hardening cock. “Gaara…” You mewled breathlessly under him as he began to thrust his hips in return, the familiar feeling of having his member rub against you once again eliciting strings of curses from your lips. You halted for a moment, striking an unwavering gaze towards his own heavy-lidded eyes as both of you exchanged hot exhales of breath. “I’m… ready…”

The paralysing beat of his heart began to pound once again. “Y/N…”

“I’m ready, Gaara…” You smiled softly as you stroked his cheek. “I’m yours, forever…”

Gaara was not speaking, he was just breathing heavily above you; scarlet locks framing his beautiful face messily. His eyes spoke a thousand of words that will probably never leave his mouth, yet somehow, hearing it wasn’t something you needed at all just to understood what he wanted to say. His glassy, seafoam eyes continued to tear through you ever so seductively yet endearingly. It’s cripplingly intimidating yet ironically comforting at the same time. It was a pile of irony that you’ll probably never be able to explain in this lifetime. It wasn’t simply black and white…

He really was just simply a million of beautifully-threaded complexities.

“Make love with me…” You whispered lovingly underneath him.

Your words sent his brain into a haywire; the shock setting in making his chest heave nervously. Gaara swallowed a gulp before taking in a sharp breath. “Did I hear you right, my love?” He mumbled with an almost chuckling voice as manifested by a flustering panic.

You nodded before giggling back at his cuteness.

Gaara held your face by your jaw, his thumb gently rubbing against your wet lower lip. “Let me hear it again, my love… just so I am sure…”

You bit his thumb playfully; the surprised, wince of pain in his facial expression that made his one eye close making your heart beat faster. Gaara pulled back his thumb from your lips before plunging it into his mouth, sucking off the small trails of your saliva clinging onto it. “I’m listening.”

Your gaze drifted to the side before meeting his steady stare once again. “M… make love with me, Gaara…” The sudden realization hit you, making you whisper a soft “shit” under your breath, rendering your lover’s forehead furrow in confusion. “I… uh… That’s not really my decision alone. I mean, only if you’re ready. W- we don’t have to-“

Gaara pressed a firmer kiss this time, nibbling your lower lip into his mouth before parting your pucker apart with his curious tongue.

“You… really have the best way… of cutting me off when I speak…” You whispered in between his kisses, the way both his hands held either sides of your jaw in place with a gentle hint of possessiveness reigniting the warmth in your stomach.  Your amused, chuckling giggle against his kiss embedded a soft grin on his mouth as well. Gaara pulled back from the kiss with a gentle smile gracing his flushed face. He did not cry for long, but his nose was already flushed red; eyes a little swollen and pink. An embarrassed chuckle from your lover tore through the brief silence of just staring at each other.

“I am ready…” He whispered to you. “But are you… really ready, tonight?” His arms was starting to get sore from carrying the weight of his body so he nestled his body softly above you. Gaara traced a line upon your cheek with the tip of his nose, before speaking once again. “Are you on protection? I might get you…” His breathing becoming gradually erratic, his voice ringing even deeper this time “…pregnant.”

“Shit…” You whispered breathlessly, the warmth in your cheeks getting more botheringly scalding. Your cuss elicited a deep, amused chuckle from your lover. Knowing that a part of why he said it like that was to tease you a little, and you knew better than to not clap back. “There’s no need to worry. You can cum inside me all you want.” You mumbled seductively, easily eliciting a flustered groan from your lover.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“W- would it be okay if… y- you were on top?” He asked, his voice a little shaky and worried. “I just… I just thought that such position would allow you to have a better control on how you want it to go… I want to give you that choice; I don’t want to hurt you, my love.”

Your chest fluttered at his caring words. “Stop making me fall in love with you more, Gaara. I wouldn’t be able to get out of it if you keep doing that.”

“Well… that is the point.” He chuckled before laying his back against the headboard and gripping you softly by your waist as you sat down above his lap. Gaara asked you to bent over slightly towards him, the curve of your spine pushing your ass up in the air as you wrapped your arm around his shoulder and buried your face into his neck. “I’ll make sure you’ll never get out of it.” Gaara whispered to your ear before plunging his index and middle finger into his mouth, coating it abundantly with his saliva before reaching out for the increasing heat resting between your legs. Acting upon what you have taught him, Gaara teased the either sides of your labia first; his touch barely even hovering with how light it was. In every passing second, the pads of his fingers began to gradually sink a little deeper against your skin; a look of subtle wonder gracing his face as he felt the muscle tense up bit by bit as he continued to stroke it. You spat on your palm before snaking it towards his groin, and before Gaara could moan back, you were already working his cock with your sloppy fist.

Gaara began to rub the length of his digits from left to right upon the sensitive center of the slit, the sly gesture resulting to a wet, slapping sound that made his cock twitch harder in between your sensually-pumping fist. Gaara traced a vertical path towards your throbbing clit before teasingly flicking the tip of his middle finger upon it. It wasn’t long until he began knead circular strokes against your nub, the intensity of its pressure crawling gradually as he swallowed your mewls of bliss directly into his ear.

“Finger me…” You panted as you redirected your face towards him. “Please…”

Gaara’s breathing hitched after hearing you beg. With a soft nudge of Gaara’s face bumping against yours, he carefully inserted his index finger into your pussy, a jolt of euphoria shaking your composure when the side of the knuckle of his middle finger brushed against your clit as he allowed your walls to get used to the feeling of his lone digit nestling inside. It wasn’t long until Gaara plunged his middle finger inside as well, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you continued to play with his stiffening cock in return.

Although his fingering was still very, very cautious, he was starting to get the hang of it, and is now slowly getting the confidence in himself that he could make you feel good under his touch. He maneuvered his digits gently in a stirring motion, and the way your walls wrapped around his fingers wetly and tightly was a sensation he was starting to get addicted to. Gaara’s cock was now significantly erected at this point, its pink tip beginning to erupt with a clear, slippery pre-cum that made his cock glisten wet under the soft light in the room. When he began to the flick his index and middle finger to stroke your sensitive spot, you began to lose your focus on toying with his dick.

Surprisingly, Gaara wasn’t just shoving his fingers back and forth. It was as if his cautious, patient nature rendered him to not be impulsive on his foreplay. He was taking his sweet… sweet time, his hand on your jaw caressing your face as he whispered how pretty you were; the tender, endearing words leaving his lips coinciding erotically with how slow and sensual he was; the thrust of his fingers hinting enough firmness, curling it up as he applied the perfect pressure against to elicit your impending cum bit by bit from your cunt. Not being able to bear it anymore, you crawled your lips towards his ear and gave him your permission.

“Gaara… I’m ready…”

With his chest tightening even harder with your voice dripping off like a sweet honey from an overpouring pot, Gaara pressed a soft kiss against your cheek. “Thank you… for trusting me…” He whispered with sa smile. Gaara assisted you once again in a sitting position, his erected cock pressing against your lower abdomen this time. “I- I promise… I wouldn’t do anything that will hurt you. Tell me everything, okay?”

You nodded before him with a reassuring smile. You lifted your body off of his lap before gripping the base of his cock, holding it in place as you grinded your clit against the tip of it before redirecting its angle and slowly taking it in inside of you.

You sighed breathlessly as you dropped your gaze down his cock, with the pink, wet tip of it slowly disappearing into your tight, wet cunt. Gaara carefully held you on place with his faint grip on your waist, the contortion of pain upon your beautiful face rendering him worried; but he trusted you as much you do with him. You bit your lip as you began to sink your body deeper into his length, the thick girth of his cock beginning to topple immensely in comparison to what his fingers had to offer. “S- so… big… Gaara…” You mumbled erotically, your remark reddening Gaara’s face for worse as he felt his cock twitch harder with how you complimented him like that.

There was an immense pressure that pooled upon your lower abdomen; a hint of pain in it, a burning discomfort as you may say. You shoved two fingers into your mouth before snaking it down towards your clit, rubbing it slowly and simultaneously as you continued to swallow in his cock into your pussy in order to ease yourself off of the discomfort. Gaara’s gaze dropped to the side, still wasn’t used to seeing you it right before his eyes for you to play with yourself like that while you’re literally shoving his dick right into your cunt. When you finally took in the rest of his length, your upper body collapsed above him alongside a relieved sigh ripping from your chest.

“Take your time, my love…” Gaara cooed sweetly as he brushed your hair away from your face before dropping a kiss against your forehead. “Y- you’re doing great, okay?”

His last sentence made your giggle against his neck.

“I’m sorry…”

“Aww, I didn’t mean it like that...” You propped your forearms against on both opposite planes of his shoulder before bumping your forehead against his. “In fact, I actually felt incredibly motivated.”

Gaara had a small pout on his lips. “You are being… sarcastic…”

“I’m not!” You pouted back before nudging your face against him playfully. “And I’d like to say that you’re doing great, too…” You giggled before pressing a kiss against his nose. “So, uh… what do you think, about this?”

He hummed in thought and cleared his throat, the flush in his cheeks getting tad bit deeper. “It’s so hot… inside you…” Gaara mumbled, his voice hinting with curiosity. “Soft, and tight…” The fact that he was literally describing how his lover’s cunt felt around his dick was enough to sent him to the edge.

“D- does it feel good?”

Gaara nodded bashfully, a gasp tearing through his supposed shut mouth when you grinded your hips teasingly against him.

“You feel good, too…” You replied. The burning sensation was starting to dissipate bit by bit, a tiny presence of it lingering still but the feeling of fullness was starting to arouse you more. “I’m going to start… moving a bit…” You mused, and with a nod from Gaara, he helped you buck your body upwards, allowing your slick to grind against the girth of his cock to increase your arousal even harder. “S- steady your cock in place, Gaara…” The way your words rolled off from the tip of your tongue made Gaara groan in response. He gripped the base of it immediately, gaze straight upon as he watched your pussy sank down to swallow in his dick; the familiar warmth and wetness making his face wince in bliss; making him cuss even louder when he darted his stare upon your face, a trace of euphoria gracing it as you felt the gradual pleasure nestling in between the pressure of his cock reentering your cunt.

“Ahh…” You moaned shakily, a satisfied sigh exiting your panting mouth before both of you groaned almost in unison when you stirred your hips in a circular motion, allowing the whole length of it to grind against the unexplored, sensitive spots all over in one move. Gaara couldn’t help the soft hiss that left him as the tightness of your pussy choked his cock even more. You planted a firm grip on his shoulder before raising your body once again and allowing yourself to get used to the newly-discovered euphoria of having your pussy by stretched deliciously bit by bit by the scalding, thick girth of his veined cock. “Gaara… fuck…”

Although drowning in bliss at the same time, his concern for you didn’t even blur for a second. “D- does it still hurt?” His voice gentle and sweet.

“A- a little bit sore, yeah…” You murmured back. “But it’s… it’s beginning to feel better, I think…”

“Can I do anything… that might help ease the pain?” Gaara wanted to touch you; he wanted to play with your breasts or stroke your clit in between, theorizing that the pleasure of such acts might distract you from the pain. But initiation wasn’t something that has sat comfortably inside his resolve just yet, and the last thing he wanted was to do something that’ll make it harder for you to adjust. “Tell me anything, I- I’ll do it, my love.”

“Kiss me…” You mumbled breathlessly. “Play with my body… everything you did earlier to make me feel good, y- you can do it.” Towering over him, you began to initiate a kiss, your tongue eagerly exploring the rest of his panting cavern. You felt his grip leave your waist, the suppleness of his palm spreading warmth down your hips before wandering gesture began to squeeze your ass. The way his pressured knead sank into your muscle almost sedated you to utter relaxation. “I love that…” You mewled against his mouth before leaving a teasing bite on his lower lip. “I’m going to start moving now.” You mumbled before beginning to rock your hips back and forth.

“Damn it.” Gaara cursed under his breath as the sight of your naked, glistening body on top of him, and the way his cock disappeared into the wetness of your pussy flashed before his very own eyes. A sight so erotic, a sensation so pleasurable, that he was beginning to blur his sense of control as he began to grab your ass a little harder.

You were beginning to get the hang of it, as the thought alone in itself of making love with Gaara started to bathe your body in bliss. Apart from the literal pleasure that your body is going through at the moment, to hear him moan your moan, to see his flushed face; forehead furrowed, eyes shut tight and a firm bite on his lip was another form of indirect stimulation that made your body writhe in bliss. With your back starting to feel sore from leaning over, you arched your spine, hands placing a grip on his knees before planting both of your knees inches before the opposite sides of his hips, spreading yourself wide open for his eyes to feast on.

“Shit…” Gaara whispered with a shaky voice.

“It feels so good…” You kept mewling, your throat beginning to feel drier by the minute.

“Ahh… ahh, Y/N…” Gaara moaned louder as you began to rock your hips in a steadying pace that had his arousal being milked tight on a carnal static. The sight of your tits bouncing up and down was a very sensual visual that he kept swallowing all for himself, and an even louder cuss left his panting mouth when you caught a peek of your swollen clit protruding through your folds. Taking back a hand from your ass, Gaara shoved his thumb into his mouth, suckling and covering it abundantly with spit before pressing his palm against your groin, stretching his hand out so his thumb is able to reach your throbbing nub. A loud moan screa m of his name escaped you, sending him in a jolt-awakening panic.

“N- no no no, please… keep going.” You moaned above him, your nails sinking into his thighs as the sensation of your impending orgasm began to crawl. “Please, please. Keep going, Gaara.” You cried out.

With a firm gulp, Gaara resumed his gesture. He shifted his initial approach, with his hand now laying a grasp on your inner thigh as his thumb sneaked in lewd, kneading circles against your pulsing nub. The sensation of your clitoris being toyed with adding to his cock stroking the circumference of your entire sensitive cunt, the familiar knot in your lower abdomen began to thrive; the burning eagerness to chase it embedding itself so fucking deep into your skin. You repositioned your body, your hands now gripping the plane of his shoulders as every firm bounce of your body sinking him deeper and deeper into the mattress. The weight of your body clashing down on him was another yet sensation he was starting to get addicted to. The words that wanted to leave his mouth at the moment was something he’s barely holding on to suppress.

The urgency was getting the best of you, but the rougher you chased it, the easier it made for Gaara’s to feel his orgasm dawning upon him. It was too much, just too much. Every inch of his body was starting to feel immensely sensitive and you yourself began to notice that his cock was starting to swell so much harder inside your cunt. Gaara was trying his best, but overwhelming sensation was starting to cripple all kinds of autonomy that he had on his body. The rub on your clit was starting to get unsteady, and it was as if Gaara was almost starting to pull his body away from you with the mind-numbing stimulation that had him throwing his head back against the pillow as he unconsciously bucked his hips upwards. “Y/N…”

It felt like a never-ending stack of pleasure that continued to pile over one another until he couldn’t breathe. He was almost ready to beg his own cock to just cum already because it was starting to feel so much to take. The foreign euphoria that was penetrating every bit of pore on his skin for the first time almost broke him.

“Y/N!” He growled underneath you.

Your focus on your orgasm wavered as soon as you heard what was leaving his mouth.

His moans were so fucking hot.

His voice rang with utter haste, almost breaking in desperation as he tried to apologize profusely that he was going to cum earlier than you. You kept your pace steady and firm, more than eager to provide him yourself the very first coital orgasm of his life. “Please, please kiss me, my love.” He begged with an open mouth, a dribble of saliva beginning to stain the corner of his lip. Before you could even muster a reply, he had already pulled you down with his arms wrapped behind your neck, sloppily letting his tongue lick everything he could as his thought process began to crumble for worse. When you noticed him starting to lose his breath, you pulled back from his lips and pressed your forehead against him, allowing the hot, shallow inhale and exhales of air fan across your equally gasping mouth. His chest, throat and face were flushed bright red as he continued to writhe beneath you.

“I- I’m cumming, Y/N…” Gaara rubbed his face needily against yours.

“I love you, Gaara.” You whispered back.

And that was it.

The last straw of fervent intimacy that drove him straight towards the edge.

“I’m yours,” He mumbled desperately in a hush as his face contorted with the deepest form of euphoria that had him furrowing his forehead and shutting his eyes tighter than ever. He fluttered them open once again, his glassy, seafoam eyes tearing through you in a passionate daze. “please… please t- tell me that I belong to you, Y/N...” He pleaded, his voice cracking in desperation as he felt another wave of tears swelling on both corners of his eyes once again.

“You’re mine, Gaara.” You moaned back breathlessly. “Y- you belong with me, you belong with me forever…”

He cried out again and again and with the last downward thrust of your hips colliding with his, his body shook beneath you, his toes curling in bliss before dragging his feet towards his body, the rise of his thighs elevating you slightly. Under his orgasmic instinct, Gaara shoved his hips upwards, burying his cock deeper into you as strings of hot cum exploded deep inside your cunt. Your eyes widened at the sensation; his cock was at its most rigid state and it was twitching so fucking hard you can feel it pulse against your walls. The pure sensuality of having your lover bury his cum deep inside you was a whole new level of intimacy and affection. Knowing that your orgasm was just a nudge away from coming; you slipped off of his dick, the thick cum leaving down your pussy adding another form of lubrication as you began to grind your slit desperately against his girth; and with a firm, fifth thrust, a powerful orgasm began to wash over you. You gripped the base of his cock and reinserted his still cumming dick into your cunt, the hard, clamping motion of your walls choking his length eliciting some of the remaining cum from his arousal. Your body writhed above him desperately, not even a moan leaving your mouth as the utter, raw bliss was so intense that you couldn’t even muster a slightest sound. You collapse onto him, both of you panting heavily as the immense, euphoric shock continued to linger inside the two of you.

Both of you whispered each other’s name endearingly in content.

There was a comfortable silence that tied you both beautifully, a moment where everything just felt so raw and perfect that no words were ever needed to leave each other’s lips. A faint sniffle woke you out of your stupor, and before you could even redirect your face towards him, Gaara hugged you tight to his chest.

“I don’t know why… I keep tearing up like this…” He chuckled as he nestled his face into your locks, his voice cracking up a little.

You hugged him even tighter, and when he heard a barely audible sob from you; evidenced by the feeling of dampness staining his chest wet, his chest throbbed harder and another yet quiet cry he desperately tried to restrain had left him once again.

You shifted in your position, situating your self next to him as you laid your weight on the side of your body. Gaara proceeded to mirror your angle, as you two are now facing each other directly with both, gentle smiles upon your tear-stained faces. He held your hand against his chest; allowing you to feel the very beat of his heart; calm, deep, and genuinely affectionate. What he proceeded to do after a soft, weak smile shakened your entire resolve.

“I love you…” He mouthed silently before curling his lips in another yet genuine smile.

Audible words had never left his mouth, but if there’s one thing you almost heard, it was the beat of his heart that throbbed even harder after those three words as he held your hand tighter against his chest.

“I feel so scared that I can’t say it,” He slowly mouthed once again before chuckling weakly. “But I love you, Y/N…”

“I love you, too…” You mouthed back with a soft giggle as you used your other hand to stroke his tear-stained cheeks; your eyes barely fluttering open as you allowed yourself to bask in every ounce of emotions you were going through at the moment, and suddenly…

It was harder to breathe.

You were beyond stunned, the overpouring emotions you did not expect for had suddenly washed all over you, body and soul, and it has robbed you off of even the tiniest bit of chance to speak.

There was nothing, really.

Nothing but heavy breathing, a shared grace of a gentle, fulfilled smile between the two of you, an affectionate nudge of your equally-flushed cheek against his as you allowed yourself to have the warm of his face plant soft kisses upon your skin.

It was as if everything had stopped, and there was nothing in this world at this very moment that mattered but you, and him.

Gaara’s hands roamed, fingertips laced with prudence yet ardent need to know you, to feel you, to be one, with you.

The connection binding the two of you began to feel ethereally transcedental…

…And Gaara felt it, too.

“Do you feel it, too?” Gaara whispered weakly, his eyes gentle and loving as he reached for your wrist and held your hand in front of his face. He shut his eyes closed before placing an endearing kiss upon the back of it; his pucker brushing soft pecks upon every tip of your five fingers before carefully dragging his kisses down your palm. Gaara’s eyes fluttered open to take in the beautiful sight of your face as you watched him caress your wrist with his soft, wet lips.

Gaara had the utmost respect towards you. He viewed with the highest reverence, and he had always seen you as strong, independent person.

But tonight…

Tonight was different.

He never knew he could feel so much for someone until he met you, but at this moment, everything he had ever known was almost incomparable to what he feels at this very moment. You were a gift to him. To feel your warm, supple skin, to hear you breath, to listen to your voice… was a gift. He was looking directly through the uttermost tenderness inside of you, a sense of delicateness residing within your very soul that has ignited the fire inside of him to to love and protect at all costs.

“I feel it too, Gaara…” You whispered endearingly before planting a soft kiss against his lips and pressing your forehead against his. “If you’ll have me, I would give my life to protect you, too.”

Your words made his chest tighten, and before you knew it, he was already holding your body against him; an arm snaking in between the side of your head and the mattress as he pulled you closer towards him. Gaara caressed the supple, roundness of your shoulder, tiptoeing the tips of his digits down the blades of it before petting you by your hair and kissing your forehead gently. “I will always keep you safe, no matter what.” He whispered.

Noticing the slight shudder on your skin, Gaara reached out for the blanket laying messily in between your bodies. With a gradually increasing loudness of cute, annoyed grunts as he tried to yank it out freely under his body, he was finally able to cover the halves of both of your nakedness under it. You couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement, but also blush at how endearing his gesture was.

“I feel so sticky right now.” You giggled. Gaara had that “me, too” look on his face despite the lack of verbal reply. “We went to bed at like… 10 PM.” You stared at your fingers as you tried to count. “It was probably around 2 AM when you woke up… It’s probably quarter to four now.”

“I think so too, yes…” Gaara chuckled back weakly. There was an obvious heaviness in his lids, but he still wanted to talk about what just happened. He wasn’t one to ask such daring questions, but it was as if some parts of him had improved for the better; it felt like he was more than willing now to initiate communication with you. “So… uhm, Y/N…” He trailed off. “How did it… feel?” Gaara asked, his voice a little nervous.

You hummed in thought. “Hmm… how do I put it in words…” You thought out loud as you traced lines and circles upon his naked chest.

Truth be told, it was probably something you could never, ever explain justifyingly with words alone.

As you continued your inward search for the perfect word, Gaara began to speak.

“I feel so connected… with you.” He whispered lovingly, his eyes gentle and endearing. “Body and soul…”

With a soft kiss and on his lips and an easing caress on his face, you pulled him closer to you as he began to nestle his face against the warm solace of your skin.

“And I feel so connected with you, too…” You repeated softly before caressing the back of his head as he began to fall asleep. “Body and soul…”

--

Your head throbbed painfully when you fluttered your eyes open and the not so gentle rays of the sun began to peek through the slight gaps in between the curtains. You quickly glued your eyes shut; and with the increasing awareness of your surroundings as your system began to wake itself up, you were almost shocked at the fact that there was still a familiar warmth and weight pressing upon your naked body at this time of the morning.

You were now lying on your back, and when you tilted your head towards your lover, you couldn’t help but giggle softly at such beautiful, rare sight.

The side of his face nestled upon the upper part of your breast, a heavy hand and leg pinning you down against the mattress, almost leaving you with no chance of escape. He had never looked so etheareally peaceful to you until now, eyes not so loosely shut and lips in a soft, curled pout. On top of that, this might just be the very first moment that you learned that Gaara actually snores… A really soft, baby snore, though. You couldn’t help but giggle when you noticed how there’s new, darker ray of eyebags pooling below his eyes… which is probably mirrored by yours, too.

Guess that’s what you get, making love so deep into the night where the moon itself is already close to losing its shine.

A soft, inward groan never left his lips but it was audible enough to hear, carving a deep smile upon your lips once more.

Finally, a very… deep, undisturbed sleep that he utmostly deserved.

You stayed still, even though your body was beginning to feel sore, apart from the expected one resting in between your legs; just in hopes of maintaining the relaxation he was currently pampering himself with.

Gaara really needed that more than anyone.

When he began to shift his body, and turned his back on you in a still, deep stupor, you began to carefully sit up and grab your discarded shirt off of the floor to walk to the bathroom.

After refilling the glass with water to bring on your way back towards the bedroom to give to Gaara once he wakes up, you took a short re-route towards the living room and sat upon the couch; dialing Temari’s number on the telephone before pressing the cold metal disk of its diaphraghm against your ear.

“Oh, finally!” You heard the familiar voice on the other side of the line.

“Good morning, Tem!” You greeted happily.

“Good mor- Oh?“ Temari’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “Y/N?”

“Yep.” You chuckled.

Temari chuckled back meaningfully at the surprising revelation, the familiar, teasing tone becoming something that was easy for you to discern.

“Come on, is it really that much of a shocker?”

“It is.” She replied amusingly. “The earliest you usually get up from bed is 10 am. You have beaten your record,” she shot a look towards the wall clock on her living room. “it’s 9:50 AM now.”

“How do you even know that?” You tried your best to stifle your usual, kinda’ loud voice when talking with her.

“Just a hunch.” Temari grinned. “Gaara had been asking me lately if there was a way he could maintain the warmth of the pancakes and coffee he makes for you at 6 AM. He says he doesn’t want you to have it cold because it might upset your stomach, but at the same time, he can’t bring himself to wake you up or to leave it up to you to cook your own breakfast.”

You couldn’t help but blush when you realized another yet undiscovered ways of how Gaara tries to show how much he loves you.

“By the way,” She cleared her throat as she shrugged her shoulder towards her, pinning the telephone against her ear as she tried to pull half of her locks into a side ponytail. “I have been ringing you guys for the last two hours. I was actually about to go on my way there to check up on the two of you because Gaara usually leaves for work at 6:30. It’s weird that he’s late.”

“Oh… uhm,” You couldn’t help but smile giddily like a teenager to yourself. “I’m sorry for not being able to answer right away. I called, too, because I was about to ask you if Gaara could take half the day off.”

“Why? Is he okay? Does he feel sick?”

“No… he’s just, sleeping really, really good right now.” You slumped your back against the sofa. “Like, the kind of good that’ll make you feel guilty if you wake him up from it. Out of all people, you do know the best that his sleeping schedule is still troubled.”

“I see…” Temari smiled gently to herself, her chest warming up at the thought of her baby brother being able to rest easy as he thoroughly deserves. “It’s okay. I could run some of his errands for him to ease his workload for today. I’m really glad to hear that Gaara’s sleeping well.”

“Yeah…” You grinned softly as you raked your fingers through your messy bedhair in hopes of fixing it up. “He’s pretty tired.”

“Tired?” Temari asked surprisingly. “He didn’t have much to do… yesteday…”

As sharp as she ever was, it was almost scary with how good she was at deducing things.

“So… what baby names are you choosing from?”

“Tem!”

Temari laughed hard from the other line. “I have leftover waffles here. I’ll hang the bag on the door knob, you don’t have to get up to greet me if ever you end up going back to sleep.”

“Thank you so much, Tem…” You couldn’t help but feel so thankful for how kind she was to you.

“No,” Temari said with a soft smile. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Tem…”

“Gaara loves you very much, Y/N.” Temari spoke so gently. “Thank you for giving him the chance to feel like that.”

After exhanging goodbyes, you flinched in your seat when someone grabbed and placed the telephone back on its cradle on your behalf.

“Do I have to carry you back to the bed?” Gaara mumbled, his voice a little grumpy. Before you could even answer, he had already made his way from the back the back of the couch, firm strong hands lifting you up from the cushion of the couch as carried you back towards the bedroom.

“Is this why you always try to wake up earlier than me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you one of those people who are grumpy as hell when they wake up?” You teased.

Gaara dropped your body onto the mattress, the surprising edge of roughness in his action making your chest flutter in excitement. The heat between your legs started to burn harder when he towered over you, the familiar weight of his body cornering you down against the bed. “When you said… last night…” A satisfying yawn ripped from his chest before he pinned your hand softly against the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles above your palm; the other hand stroking the side of your face softly as he leaned his face closer. “That you will be first thing I’d see when I wake up, I took it to the heart. But what I saw… was my boxer shorts…” His sudden, surprising dominance broke as he ended up giggling softly against the skin of your neck. You snorted back with a laughter, the odd, funny noise making him chuckle again.

“I called Tem… I asked her if you could come in a little late today. You looked like you were having the best sleep of your life, and I couldn’t bear to be the one who takes it away from you.”

“It really did…felt amazing.” He sighed, the way he breathed out hinting satisfaction on his end.

“The sleep?” You mused. “Or what happened before the sleep?”

Gaara buried his now flushed face deeper into your neck as he began to remember everything that took in place night.

Vividly.

“I’m sorry, though…” You whispered gently. “I didn’t mean to have your unromantic boxer shorts to be the first one you see in the morning.” You felt a smile against your neck before he props his chin above your chest, the vibration of your giggle pressing against his skin. “Would you get mad if I do it again? What if I had to pee?”

“You think I have the capacity to be that possessive?” Gaara asked, his voice hinting with amusement.

“I think you’d let me pee.” You smiled at him before brushing the messy locks from blocking the view of his eyes.

“I will.” Gaara began to press soft, pecking kisses upon your breast before dragging his lips in a linear path towards your neck, making you tilt your head to the side as he began to suckle softly on the skin. “But I wouldn’t shy from tying you down if it means I’ll be able to keep you in bed as much as I want to.”

--

#sabaku no gaara #suna no gaara #gaara #gaara smut #gaara of the desert

[wavesmp3]

eye choose number 13 + anyone you want! i tried to choose the driest one mwhahahhahahahahhahahahahahhahahahahahhahahahahahhaagaga

[breaking the rules]  13. the first glass of fresh water - sangyeon (the boyz) x reader - dystopian au | wc. 1.3k - a/n: hehe choco i’m actually really glad you chose this prompt for the reason you did, it sort of became a challenge for myself like how much can i twist the prompt into something wild and tbh i had wayyy too many ideas for what this could be, but the one I went with is set in the same world and loosely related to “you hide; i’ll seek”

—

sangyeon is a rule follower. 

so when someone above his pay grade tells him to give you, the capital’s most recent prisoner and alleged arson of the embassy building, a glass of water and nothing else, he does exactly that. of course it doesn’t help that you down the glass too fast, too eagerly. as if it’s the first glass of fresh water you’ve had in years. it doesn’t help that you hold the empty glass upside above your mouth, waiting for even the very last drop to fall in. and it certainly doesn’t help that you meet his eyes from across the cell, hold out the dry glass, and whisper, “please. one more.” 

sangyeon is a rule follower. even when every ounce of his consciousness tells him not to be one. 

—

sangyeon learns pretty quickly that you’ll probably never grow to like him. 

he figures that when you refuse to get up as he brings you food for the third day in a row, it’s probably better that you’re ignoring him completely rather than screaming in his face or throwing glass at his feet like some have done before. 

and there’s one particular morning where you must be too hungry to wait, that you meet him by the door of the cell as he slides the tray towards you. 

“the least they could do,” you mutter scornfully reaching for the glass of water first, “is give us some good food.” 

sangyeon doesn’t say anything in the moment, isn’t even sure you wanted him to hear. and yet despite that, he finds himself sneaking some of the guard food onto your tray before handing you your next meal. 

—

“you know there’s this saying,” you murmur one day when sangyeon comes to deliver you a meal and a glass of water as he’s told to do, “down in the basing district. people say that if you end up at the peaks, you’re as good as dead.” 

sangyeon had heard the lanier prisons called that before. he assumes the name comes from the mountain range surrounding it. a prison in between the peaks. but he’s less surprised by the name you call his dreaded place of work, and more surprised by the fact that you’ve even spoken to him with what sounds like a little less venom than before. 

“are you from there?” he asks swiping his id tag against the scanner to open the tray slot of your cell door. “the basing district?” 

“yeah.” you return, standing up from the corner of the cell. you reach for the water first. “just one glass?” 

you down the entire drink before he can even respond. “it’s the rule.” and after a moment of your blank stare taunting him further, he adds: “not really my call to make.” 

“and so what? you just blindly follow every rule you’re told?” 

“well, no i-“ he stops himself. suddenly noticing something different about your hair. between the cell bars, just barely, sangyeon can see that you’ve made the effort to style it today. “yeah.” he finally responds. “i guess i do.” 

you laugh, a low sound that reminds sangyeon of spite more than anything else. you grab the tray from the slot, and walk back to your corner muttering, “must make for an easy, privileged life then.” 

and with the way you say it, sangyeon can’t say for sure he knows what you mean. 

—

“i had this friend back in basing,” you tell sangyeon on his break as he pours you a second glass of water, “who made the best cookies and tea.”

he hands you a cracker and takes one for himself. “what’s his name?”

“if i told you i’d have to kill you?”

sangyeon stops mid-bite, sits back slightly, and stares at you staring at him gravely. for a second, he’d forgotten that you’re technically a prisoner. “oh.”

your face suddenly crumbles in laughter. “i’m kidding. his name was jacob.” 

“was?” 

sangyeon’s never heard a laugh die so quickly. 

—

walking you to your daily interrogations is one of sangyeon’s newer responsibilities. it’s a job he’s done before, definitely not one he’s fond of. but for some reason, making the walk from the cells to the interrogation rooms, feels inexplicably foreign when he does it with you.

sangyeon’s been told time and time again to never initiate conversation with the prisoners, and yet today he almost doesn’t resist the urge to ask how you feel. luckily, you start talking before sangyeon can break one of his rules. “these interrogations are pointless really.” you mutter, and as impossible as it seems, he thinks you sound a little bit sad. he frowns. “it’s always the same questions.”

you reach the door to the room before sangyeon can make out a response. 

the interrogation rooms are small. tiny really. with four black walls, a small table in the middle, two plastic chairs, and a two-way mirror on the farthest wall. usually, after dropping the prisoners off, sangyeon leaves from this wing of the lanier prisons, scurries away from his least favorite part of the peaks as fast as he can. but today, sangyeon finds himself seated alone on the other side of the two-way mirror, watching you fiddle uncomfortably in between your handcuffs. you both wait for the interrogator to come. 

she does eventually, and she looks exhausted more than anything. she follows the rules, almost as precisely as sangyeon does, first hooking you up to the lie-detector, test-running the signals, and finally starting the recorder before having said a single word. 

“okay,” she gruffs, flipping a page in her binder, “let’s just get this over with.”

the interrogation goes faster than sangyeon had imagined it would. he finds himself thinking back to what you had said before entering the room, about the questions being the same, and realizes that you were telling the truth. sangyeon feels like a spectator to a dance of some sort, like he’s watching you both run through a routine that you’ve been practicing for too long. 

“your id number?” she asks. 

“319507.” the machine flashes green. 

“your name?” 

“don’t have one.” red. 

“are you from the mei district?” 

no, sangyeon thinks to himself remembering the conversation you once shared. 

“you mean the wastes?” you scoff. 

the interrogator sighs. “are you from the mei district, also known as the wastes?”

“yes.” green. 

“do you know someone by the name of yoon jeonghan?”

“no.” red.

“were you ever in contact with joshua hong?”

“no.” green.

“is jacob bae dead.”

“no.” red.

“have you ever heard of the Resistance?”

“yes.” red. 

“are you a member of the Resistance?”

“maybe?” 

“are you a member of the Resistance? yes or no?”

“yes.” green.

“did you know they had plans to infiltrate the lanier prisons?”

“yes.” red.

“did you know they had plans to set fire to the embassy building in the basing district?”

“no.” green.

“did you set fire to the embassy building?”

you falter at that. pausing for the first time since beginning. hesitating for what the interrogator must think is a second too long. suddenly, you look up, eyes glazed over as if watching your reflection in the two-way mirror. it just so happens that your eyes find sangyeon. 

finally, you answer: “no.” 

and with the way you say it, sangyeon knows it’s the truth 

(the machine flashes red.) 

—

it’s a few days after that particular interrogation that sangyeon has the guts to ask. 

“did you do it?” he begins timidly.

“do what?”

“burn the embassy building?” 

he meets your eyes, and for a while you don’t answer, you just stare back. 

finally, taking a sip from your glass of water, you say to sangyeon, “i think you already know.”

sangyeon takes a sip from his own glass, and somehow, it feels like the first. 

you’re right, about a lot of things really, but concerning this, specifically, you’re right: sangyeon does know. he also knows that he’s a rule follower. except that when he finds himself sneaking back towards your cell after his shift with a stolen set of keys and an id tag that doesn’t belong to him, he supposes he hasn’t been much of a rule follower since the day he met you. 

#the boyz imagines #sangyeon imagines #the boyz fanfic #sangyeon fanfic #the boyz scenarios #sangyeon scenarios #the boyz fluff #tbz fanfic #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #lee sangyeon #the boyz #sangyeon fluff #sangyeon angst #the boyz angst #sangyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #kpop scnearios #kpop imagines #mine #lowqualityseventeen #breaking the rules #it’s a bit of rushed piece but ah well

[coldcolourchords]

Turning 21 - an unwanted landmark

It happened an hour and 20 minutes ago, as the clock hit midnight CEST and the date changed so seamlessly to the 12th, without any hesitation, uneventfully and in complete silence, just as expected. The day I've been negatively anticipating for the better half of the past one year has come, and it caught me sitting at my computer alone in the living room, drinking hot tea on a summer night in a sweater and doing my silly little tasks that I call "work" (because despite my best efforts, middle of the night is still the only time of the day I can function as intended).

I remember ever since I was a child I always used to start mentally preparing myself for my birthday from New Year's Day. Even my mother used to say, "now that it's 2010, you're already 10 to me", even though August was still nowhere to be seen. But that felt good at the time. The beginning of a new year and my birthday approaching meant hope and progress, as the only thing I wanted as a child and as a teen was to grow up and not have to be a child anymore. I didn't like going to school, I didn't like being told to do things, I didn't like not being taken seriously, as I'm sure no one does. But by "didn't like", I mean it caused me severe emotional distress, the stuff that happened to me every single day without my control. It's hard to tell now in retrospect what caused what, but I have memories of developing my two most prominent and persistent mental disorders at around 6 years old (social anxiety and a BFRB) which have isolated me and often subjected me to cooler kids poking fun at me, shortly followed by starting school in the middle of my parent's divorce and moving houses. One of our last dinners in my father's comforting family home at the dinner table, I remember being visibly sad and my mum asking me what was wrong. My slightly belated answer ("everything") did not quite get the desired reception, as she and my little brother went on to have a little giggle over making assumptions about what that must include ("I'm sure she's sad over dinosaurs going extinct too..."). And, from then on, it's pretty much been downhill. I didn't like being home and I didn't like being at school (or at any of the million extracurricular activities my mum had picked out for me falsely thinking they could stop me from hurting myself and not just accelerate it). The ever-present social anxiety, bottled up frustration, high academic expectations and confusion about the nature of my very own self-destructive behaviours did not make for an enjoyable time in any of my 12 years at school. So, obviously, all I could do was anticipate the end. The end of being vulnerable to the very systems that were meant to nurture me and protect me.

I think that was my way of thinking all the way until I turned 19. Two years ago. At 19, I had graduated high school, I was about to start university studying something I was interested in, I had a semi-stable student job I liked and I was ready to move in with my boyfriend (a former classmate), separate from our parents. I had an artistic goal that I was ready to work for in my free time, and living away from home I was finally going to get the capacity to do so as well. And then when all of this happened and my thoughts became occupied with the new kind of responsibilities that came with "adulting", I started getting this overwhelming feeling of "what now?". A couple months have passed in the blink of an eye, it was November and I wasn't happy. I was making virtually no progress on my creative goals, my flat was a smelly mess, I didn't see my friends and I wasn't making new ones, and I found university to be draining and incompatible with my brain. I wasn't enjoying anything. I thought, "is this how I'm going to have to spend another 3 years?".

And then a miracle happened. I had to give a presentation at uni with a couple of other girls, and one of them suggested a book to do it based on. Reading my part of the book to prepare for the presentation has unlocked something in me - it was a book about the way people manage to feel like hostages due to their own decisions and thoughts. First it hurt to read because I had to face the truth: I wasn't really a hostage of expectations, university or responsibilities, I was a hostage of myself and my own attitude. I even wrote a song about this (my ultimate way of being honest with myself), and that's when I've felt ready to start working on myself in order to take back control over my life. And hell, I have done it. In a couple of weeks, I was feeling the best I've ever felt and I went into exam season thinking I was capable of the impossible at this point. Who knew I had it in me? I had gotten through a couple of exams and assignments and I was thinking soon I was going to start improving in other areas of my life as well. I was going to make art, see my friends again, go out, have fun, maybe learn to cook and be a better girlfriend too. Not a lot of that has happened. Came the end of exams and the second half of January and I was already exhausted. My job was at a halt and uni wasn't back on until mid February, so I spent a few shallow weeks at home just thinking "why am I doing this again?". It was difficult, suddenly having too much space for negative thoughts and rumination.

But it was only the start of the pandemic when my race with time has really begun. Which is ironic, because when the restrictions were first announced in my country, I really saw a lot of opportunity in them to grow for myself (and I mean this is in the least "this deadly virus is a blessing in disguise" way possible). University moving online and social gatherings being nothing short of illegal all of a sudden felt more than convenient for my social (but very luckily not health) anxiety ridden brain, and I had imagined this was going to be the most prosperous phase in my life, in terms of moving forward with my goals.

Ever since I was little, I had dreamed of becoming a musical artist. No one ever encouraged me - maybe for a good reason - and I tried to keep quiet about it as well. I was so ashamed of desiring something that was so "unlike me" according to everyone who knew me. I never had a good voice and everyone perceived me as shy, on top of being seen as more of a "STEM girl" (until I went to high school for maths and ended up not understanding any of it anymore). I'd been writing lyrics into my phone since 14 and attempting to turn them into actual songs on my laptop since 17. At 18, I even took a beginner's course in Ableton. Still, I just never felt like anything I wrote was of any worth or that I had a single ounce of talent in any part of the process. But I kept on dreaming and pushing because I thought "if I don't try, how will I know?". My work ethic was awful too, I was an inconsistent writer and an even more inconsistent producer. I never got anything finished because I got lost in the details and gave up due to my perfectionism. Plus, and this is what I perceived to be the biggest problem at the time, I could only record music at home, and my family were home all the time. Moving out, I thought I was going to prosper, then I didn't prosper for a bit, told myself it was okay because uni was making me depressed, then I continued to not prosper, told myself it was okay because I had to rest up after exams. And then it's like the universe said "Stop. You're just making excuses. Stay home and produce those songs now because there will NOT be another opportunity like this".

I put so much pressure on myself then to get stuff done. It felt like my time - all my adolescence I was looking at teenage popstars rising to fame and each year they were just getting younger and all I did was compare myself to them and worry. Worry that I was running late, that no one was going to ever care about me because I am late, but growing up I excused it every time. I was home with my family and stressed because of school all the time, duh, how could I have made good art? But right there, at the beginning of "quarantining", it was just me and my willpower. No school, no job, no impromptu social plans. And who knew how long it was going to last? Some people said only four weeks, some others said months, some the rest of the year. All I knew was I was 19, still young and practically a teenager, and I had to act. And I did. I made two of the worst songs you've heard in your life and I put them both out in the summer under my own name. Like proper released them on streaming services and all. Looking back now, holy hell, how desperate was I, posting it on my social media that people I actually knew followed? With my fear of being ridiculed? I was setting myself up for an emotional disaster. Shock horror: my songs didn't blow up (although I have had a few friends say lovely things about them, at least to me). By the time of scheduling the second one for release (mid July) I was already feeling burnt out. Yes, there was another exam season in the meantime, and the unexpectedness of the elongated pandemic has definitely been a factor as well, but generally I was just so let down by the overall underwhelming experience. I made such bad decisions - why my own full name? Why did I have to let people know and thereby handicap myself? Of course I wasn't going to promote my songs now or even speak of them positively because I feared coming off ridiculous. So I just let the whole thing pass without a sound and made myself sad. By last August, I was back to "what now?".

Needless to say, there were no festivals last summer. Festivals used to be my ultimate summer happy place and I always celebrated my birthday at a specific one (the biggest one in my city to be exact) starting with the 15th. Concerts and festivals were somehow simultaneously an adventurous escape from all my worries and the root of a lot of my confidence issues and anxiety. I dreamed of being on stage and presenting my art to the world, pouring my heart out to even just one person who will listen, the same way that I listen to my favourite artists and what they have to say. Some nights were emotional, some nights were energising, some nights were spent worrying about the people who surrounded me and some nights were just pure jealousy and feeling far away from my goals - you never knew what you were going to get at a gig. I think that overall most gigs were bittersweet experiences for me, but that's how I liked them to be. The whole point was just to feel something. But there were no festivals last year. There were concerts, though, put on by local bands, but lord do I wish there hadn't been any. I went to two of those last summer - one I went to alone and walked away feeling like shit, another I went to with my friends and felt extremely guilty and anxious about the virus after. This second one happened to be two days before my 20th birthday. I spent my birthday worried to death that I got the virus (even though numbers were extremely low at the time in my country and going to small gigs was perfectly legal and deemed not dangerous) and that I was going to infect my elderly relatives who I was going to meet with later. That didn't happen, but I haven't been to a single show since then, and it's been a year. So that's how my first non-festival birthday worked out.

Turning 20 didn't feel good and my birthday aligned with the onset of a bunch of new problems as well as old ones accelerated. I began to think deeply about everything. What was the point of anything I was doing? Was any of it going to get me anywhere? Was any of it causing me joy, even? I didn't know what to do about my musical efforts - should I keep trying to put out songs or admit defeat? I still had that creative drive in me and I worried so much about my role in the world - "I'm not a good friend, not a good girlfriend and not a good daughter, and I certainly will never become a good psychologist directly helping people with their problems. I need to give something to the world - I need to find a purpose". I didn't do stuff because I was anxious, and then I was anxious because I didn't do stuff. But I think at that point I also realised I didn't only want to succeed and produce. I also wanted to live. Having fun was missing from my life too. I rarely saw or talked to friends and my relationship wasn't going well either. Every day I tortured myself looking at other people live their lives on social media and thinking to myself I wanted what they had. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to create, to connect and to matter, but all of these things have only ever caused me anxiety in my life and I didn't know where to go from there.

With the virus getting worse again and the start of another online semester, there was one silver lining to locking myself in again though. During the pandemic, I have been playing a lot of video games, possibly even more than before. They weren't only a nice way to numb my brain and relax - no, the opposite, they were actively giving me a temporary sense of direction and progress with each gaming session. I have always loved The Sims for this reason, I had spent so many years building and perfecting my little worlds to my liking and practicing full control over my characters' lives, but this time I began to feel like it was something bigger. I discovered the Sims side of the internet, something I had not really done before, and the amount of content, help, info and Sims-related entertainment has blown me away. Whole new levels of playing have been unlocked for me and I began to dive deeper than ever. I wanted to be part of the community, so in the autumn I started streaming the game on Twitch and this time I knew better than to tell anyone I already knew about it. That didn't quite turn out as I expected, and my streamer phase was cut short in January by someone I knew from high school accidentally finding my stream. Before that, I would only get moderately anxious before streams, not worried much about what viewers were going to think of me (if they find me annoying they'll just leave and I'll never have to hear from them again), but then that unexpected turn of events ruined everything in my head. All my confidence I had built up was suddenly gone. I never streamed again after that. It wasn't really for me anyway, I told myself.

Instead, insistent on further pursuing the only thing that was giving me joy at the time, I started my YouTube channel initially uploading Sims tutorials, because I thought I had useful stuff to show people that has a greater chance of making someone happy than just watching me try to put together a sentence for 5 minutes straight while my Sims struggle to get in the shower by themselves. And much to my surprise, it was gaining decent traction, although I put a lot of it down to luck even today. But either way, it's been growing more or less consistently ever since, and beginning of the summer I stopped to think "could I not just be doing this for a living now?". "Could this be my new creative ambition?". As much as I would have liked to say yes based on my progress and how I managed to earn the same amount I would have earned in a month at my part-time retail job (we're talking Eastern European sums kids!), it wasn't that simple. Thoughts around this have of course been puzzling me for months now. I like to think of myself as a natural talker, just because I am anxious I am NOT quiet or shy. I can even make small talk very well, it's just that because I'm mortified by the possibility of an awkward silence I tend to avoid situations where it might be required. And I talk to myself all the time. So on paper, talking to a camera should not be an issue. And yet every time I record a video I feel my soul being sucked out of my body because I need to make sure I say every sentence correctly and that ends up in draining 4 hour recording sessions. Editing videos, on the other hand, is a rewarding process, a kind of flow-experience I have not really known before, though extremely long and usually detrimental to my sleep schedule (which is far from being rosy by default). Maybe I just put too much effort into everything, but it really makes you question - is it worth it? Can I really be doing this on the long run without destroying myself? And will I ever get used to the social interactions that come with it?

It's weird, suddenly getting recognition for something, people giving me positive feedback on the daily. This certainly happened more suddenly than I thought it would and I don't think I was prepared. Naturally, people taking the effort to leave me nice comments and messages makes me want to reply, appreciate their kindness and return the favour but the trinity of little demons inside me - social anxiety, impostor syndrome and a chronically low self-esteem - makes this a difficult task to complete. To combat the overwhelming weight of responsibility that comes with making sure I appreciate everyone who appreciates me enough, as well as to shut out the fear that what I have now can be taken away from me any second, I have built up a mental wall between me and my relative success. This wasn't a conscious choice, it's just the way my brain has started dealing with this new situation. I do not allow myself to internalise the rewards of what I work so hard for and that contributes to why, when I look back on 2021 so far, all I see is depression despite having "gotten what I wanted". My YouTube channel has been the only thing bringing hope and the only thing I've got going for me and yet I am incapable of embracing it.

The past one year has been enlightening. It has enlightened me that there must be something deeply wrong with me because I have not been able to enjoy life even at times I had all the reasons to. The times I am capable of letting go and feeling happy for short periods come exactly based on that - short periods. I'm drifting into states of bliss only when I know the situation is temporary and doesn't come with commitment and responsibility. Some of these moments of calmness come to me while walking to the store by myself after dark, getting invested in my video games, meeting up with my friends for an evening every once in a while and writing a therapeutic song just for myself using the simplest chords on the piano. The feeling usually doesn't last and disappears at the first attempt to get back to any kind of organised schedule (that attempt on most days is the simple act of trying to force myself to go to bed). Isn't that ironic? I wanted purpose. I wanted to get it together. And yet... every day is a struggle. I know now, I am the problem. Whether it's a chemical imbalance or another anomaly in my brain or my own fault somehow, it's not my circumstances, it's me. I wanted to be free and to make my life my own, and now I just can't. Every day I worry about running out of time, rapidly approaching death and not being able to say that I have lived. This is why turning 21 fills me with so much panic. I am no longer a child and I'll never be again, although I wouldn't even like to be. I just can't help thinking that I wasted so many opportunities to enjoy myself and to push for my goals. But it's gone now and there's no point regretting how I used to think about life back then. If I look back on my life so far I see a lot of stuff that happened that made half of my brain temporarily happy, but the other half was always filled with anxiety, anticipation to get out or dissatisfaction. It was just never fully right and I keep hoping that there will come a time when it will feel fully right. Before turning 19, I thought independence was going to give me that. Now at 21, I'm not quite sure there's anything that's going to give me that if I don't also start to work through every single one of my issues (although part of me still likes to cling onto the idea that once I'm done with my first and last degree, a lot of underlying stress and guilt will be taken off my shoulders and I'll see everything in a different light). So for a start, I just finally signed up for psychological counselling. I don't know if it will help but it's something and I've done it for myself. I need to do more for myself.

There is so much more I could talk about. Like the pandemic, how I've turned into a hermit, my relationship, struggling to be honest with myself and slowly losing touch with my all time number one passion because of it. I could talk about how I know that society has been deliberately making us (especially women) feel scared of aging and yet I still file it under personal issues, how I've been trying to fix my sleep schedule for a year and a half straight now, the guilt I feel from my family and friends all the time, my inability to concentrate and how I fall into despair concerning the future and present of humanity every time I read the news and people's opinions on social media. I could talk about how I want to cry every time I see a picture of somewhere beautiful in the world - a street in Japan, a lake in the Alps or the trees in the Mediterranean - because I feel a longing that is almost nostalgic for places I've never even visited. There is always so much to still be told to complete the story, but why do I want people I'll never fully know to understand me that well? I need to let go of compulsions like these.

Deep down I just hope that I'm not the only one terrified of growing old.

#21 #happy birthday to me #long story long #welcome to my brain #aging #depression #anxiety #growing up #growing old #young adulthood

[dumbchickwrites]

office affairs -- part 1

Pairing: CEO!Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: Sam is the CEO of the Red Wing PR agency where Reader has been working for the past two years. Problem is, they both think one hates the other. However, when their friends set them up on a blind date, they’ll realise that it was all a big misunderstanding.

Words: 1.9K

Warnings: language.

A/N: This new series is part of @marvelmaree​‘s birthday challenge (happy birthday Maree!) The series will be updated part by part and the masterlist will be available on my blog as well as Maree’s. I hope you enjoy! <3

“What do you think about him, Nat?”

Maria shoves her phone in Natasha’s face, stopping the redhead from biting into her taco. Nat doesn’t seem to mind though. She’s used to Maria’s antics.

“Hmm, no. She’d leave halfway through the date,” Natasha said, scrunching her nose at the screen.

“Hum, hello? I’m right here?” you wave your hands in front of their faces and scoff when they look at you like you just interrupted a discussion at the Pentagon. “Can you guys do this another time?”

When Maria and Natasha offered to set you up on a blind date a few days ago, you thought they were joking. Which is understandable, you know, they had a few drinks in them already and it was late. So you just laughed the absurd conversation off like a normal person.

The only issue is, they were dead serious and to this day, they’re still looking for a date. You would try to stop them, but you gave up two days ago after they got your sister Noelle involved. That traitor agreed to team up with them to find you a date because – and quote “your coochie is probably covered in spiderwebs already”. After that you decided to let them have their fun. Not because your coochie is… your coochie is fine, okay? Thank you very much.

Natasha finally takes a bite of her taco, the crunch of the tortilla making you wince slightly, and turns her attention back to the phone. You scoff at the blatant disrespect. Unfortunately, the action doesn’t pair well with the grain of rice that was apparently stuck in your throat and you start coughing like a madwoman.

This is the moment your boss chooses to sneak a peek in Maria’s office.

“Hey ladies—woah, is everything okay?” Mr. Wilson asks, slightly alarmed.

You nod as best as you can, your eyes filled with tears, and turn your back to him in hopes to preserve your last ounce of dignity as you choke on your miserable grain of rice. Maria hands you a bottle of water as Natasha reassures Mr. Wilson.

“We’re okay, Sam. She’s just enjoying her sushi a bit too much.”

“Oh. See you later, then.”

You don’t see him wave, and you don’t see the look your friends share either.

“Oh my God!” You exhale once the cough is gone. “I just saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“Oh please, would you stop being such a drama queen?”

Nat hands you a napkin and you use it to dry your tears. You’ll touch up your makeup after lunch.

You brush off the comment and take another sip of water before you speak. “I feel like the esteem he has for me is totally gone by now. Or do you think there’s still a bit left? I mean I outdid myself with the Drax event last month.”

“Sam doesn’t hate you. He’s just…”

You raise your eyebrows at Maria, waiting for her to finish her sentence but nothing comes. You throw your arms in the air in defeat.

For a reason unknown to you, Sam Wilson, CEO of the PR agency Red Wing, does not like you very much. At least that’s what you’re assuming. You’ve never done anything but a good job for the two years you’ve been working at the company and yet, every time you make eye contact with the man he averts his gaze like you’re Medusa or something. The worst thing is, he’s friendly with almost everyone else. Natasha is one of his closest friends, and in a relationship with his best friend – she practically helped him build the company. So yes, you kind of feel like the black sheep of the office.

“You know what,” you say, pouring more soy sauce in the little receptacle that came with the food. “Maybe something’s keeping him away from me, the universe—or God, and maybe that’s for the best.” You finish with a shrug.

“Believe it or not, Sam’s actually a decent person.”

“Okay.”

Natasha and Maria share another look before the three of you move onto another topic as you finish your lunch.

The rest of the afternoon at work is uneventful. All of your projects are up to date already because you like to be ahead of things, so you decide to just call it a day and head home early.

Before you do, you drop by Maria’s office to say bye. She simply nods and waves without taking the phone away from her ear. And of course Natasha’s office is the last stop.

Her blinds are always drawn over the glass walls, so you never know what happens in there. The last time you barged in her office she was making out with her boyfriend James, and God help you, you never want to know what would have happened if you’d gone in there a minute later. So naturally you knock, then go in when she answers.

And you freeze in the doorway.

Mr. Wilson is in here. That’s not uncommon. She’s his right hand lady. They’re almost always together. You know that. So why are you standing here awkwardly? Mr. Wilson smiles at you. It’s a polite smile – a professional smile – the kind that doesn’t really reach his eyes and for a moment you wonder what he looks like when he smiles from the heart.

That is before he looks away and shakes his head, like he can’t even stand the sight of you. You hold the sigh and the eye roll.

“I just wanted to say bye,” you say to Natasha. “I’m heading home early.”

“All right, sugar. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You give her a smile then head out, finally releasing that sigh.

Home is where the heart is. And what better way to describe your eight year old niece than that?

Michelle is the light of your life. She’s the smartest, funniest little girl you’ve ever met and a gift that keeps on giving. She arrived when you were still in college, and you moved in with your sister, at her request, when Michelle was born. The three of you have been inseparable ever since.

Usually at this time of the day, Michelle would still be at school, but she’s recovering from a cold and her mom doesn’t want her near other kids during this time.

The sound of “Almost There” from The Princess and the Frog greets you as you step into the foyer of your home. You hum along quietly as you kick your heels off, get rid of your coat and leave your purse on the messy console.

“Sounds like you’re feeling better Mimi,” you tease the little girl with a smile once you get to the living room.

She immediately stops singing along and runs toward you to give you a hug.

“I am! But mommy said I can’t go to school for another couple of days,” she pouts.

“She’s right, that was a nasty cold you had there.”

Mimi throws her head back in a dramatic groan which makes you chuckle. She loves going to school and learning, which is something you’re very grateful for. Homework time always goes smoothly and she’s actually excited to go to school in the morning.

Your niece goes back to the couch and buries herself under the mountain of blankets and pillows before she turns her attention back to the movie.

“Hey Noelle,” you greet your sister when you get to the kitchen.

You’re not actually hungry but you could use a cookie or two. Maybe three.

“Hey,” Noelle lifts her eyes from her laptop. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I was done with today’s work. I can see you can’t say the same for yourself.”

Noelle rolls her eyes. “Elena just dumped two new manuscripts on my ass. Thank God I love my job and the pay because girl, I’m exhausted.” She takes her glasses off and rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

You pour water in the kettle and set it on the stove. You take out two mugs, a Tinkerbell one for Noelle and a Dumbo one for you, your favourite jasmine tea bags and honey.

“How was work?” Noelle asks as she shut her laptop and puts in on top of the pile of manuscripts next to her.

“The usual. Nat and Maria are still bothering me with this blind date business and I blame you for it.”

“Me?” Noelle feigns innocence with a hand on her chest.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes.

Seeing that you’re not buying her cheap act, Noelle straightens in her seat and starts fiddling with the Post-Its sticking out of the manuscripts. “Actually, I think we found someone.”

You nearly drop the teaspoons you’re holding.

“You what?”

“You heard me.”

You narrow your eyes at her.

You’ve always had a good relationship with your sister. She’s your best friend, she’s been by your side through every rough patch of your life, and you know she’ll always be here for you. But sometimes, she really, really gets on your goddamn nerves. Not just because of situations like these. Noelle is the kind of person who puts everyone’s needs before her own, that is why she often finds herself drowning in a sea of problems that aren’t even hers. More than once you’ve had to be the one to pull her out of the water.

The whistle of the kettle makes you stop with the murder glare and you pour the water into the mugs.

“You have to stop being so wary. Don’t you trust us?”

“Not right now, no.”

Noelle gives you a look.

“Just give it a chance.”

“Oh, like you gave a chance to Amara’s mom?” you say, eyebrows raised and voice dripping with sass.

“It’s not—She—I’m busy with the—”

“Aht aht! I don’t wanna hear it!” you raise your hand and grab your mug, heading to the living room.

You settle on the couch with Noelle and Mimi – who’s now watching some kids’ cooking show-- and the three of you  enjoy the rest of the afternoon together.

Some time during the evening, while you’re going through your skin care routine, your phone dings with a message notification. It says Natasha added you to the group chat Spider Coochie.

These girls…

Nat: So… we found someone.

Maria: This is amazing. I’m already excited.

Noelle: GIRL.

You: You can’t be serious.

Maria: Oh but we are.

Nat: Friday night, L’Orage, 8:00. “Spider” is what you’ll say to the host.

You: “Spider”? Are you fucking kidding me?

You hear Noelle cackle as you sit on the edge of you bed.

Maria: Hey, it was your sister’s idea.

You roll your eyes.

You: Can I at least get a hint?

Noelle: Hell no.

Nat: Everything’s gonna be fine. You can go to bed now.

You: Ugh. I don’t even have the strength to argue with you.

Maria: Good.

You lock your phone with a loud groan – loud enough to make sure Noelle hears it from wherever she is – and you let your body fall on the mattress.

As much as you try to pretend you’re annoyed by all of this, you can’t help but be excited by the idea. A bit curious as well. But you trust your friends. They would never put you in an embarrassing position and pair you up with some awful sewer rat.

A sigh leaves your lips.

As the saying goes: “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.”

#maree's29thbirthdaybash #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x black reader

[sagemoderocklee]

Writer ask meme - everything divisible by 3

Sorry this took so long to reply to! I was writing out my responses today, but while watching Rosewell New Mexico with my roommate and that show is SO good. anyways this is really, really long so I will put part of it under a read more however if you are reading TAoL and want a sneak peak at an upcoming chapter, my answer to 36 is the entire first scene for that chapter

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? Other than the obvious writer's block, I think that my least favorite part is feeling insecure/wanting validation via comments and such. Writing is something I really enjoy doing and take great pride in trying to grow as a writer, but it's impossible to completely shake off that feeling of insecurity and sadness over something that doesn't get comments. There's this common thing in fandom where like you can pour a lot of heart and energy into something, be really skilled, only for it to get overlooked. There's obviously a lot of reasons for that, but some of those reasons are kind of annoying—like god forbid something not have sex in it, ya know?

6. Favorite character you’ve written?

So, that's hard.... If we're talking the canon Naruto characters, it can really vary from story to story. I obviously enjoy writing Gaara and Lee, but I was surprised to find that I really enjoy writing Shikamaru, Kankurou, Temari, Neji, and Tenten as well. I think all of them are really interested, have a lot of potential, and are fun in very different ways. Kankurou is definitely just flat out fun to write, and I think Tenten is very similar in the way she's fun to write. I think this like handful of characters are all faves for very different reasons so it's hard to say who my absolute fave is, but I really enjoy writing all of them. Definitely my fave thing is being able to write all of them interacting together, however.

9. Favorite/least favorite tropes?

Least: Soulmates. I hate that shit with a passion—it's boring, it's artificial, it's easy. There was a post I just saw recently that said “soulmates are stupid. I love you on purpose” and that just sums up so much of my issue with soulmates. If something is predetermined by some fucking cosmic power, do you really ever love that person? Do you really ever know that person? Soulmate AUs will always be something that bore me and also insight anger. It's just not for me, and I wish that fandom spaces would just get over it, in all honesty. Fave: uh. I don’t really know about like trope-wise. I just really like anything with good world building and politics.

12. Which story of yours do you like best? Why? Oh gosh.... um. That's really hard to answer because every story I write has a special place in my heart for different reasons. Alliance is my baby; TAoL is a huge emotional investment and has allowed me to grow even more as a writer; Absolution is something I've always wanted to explore; Flyweight Love is super fun and cute; IEYH is a new experiment in writing for me; GoD was also an experiment... and on and on. It's hard to pick like a favorite story because like they're all my faves in different ways. There are certainly things I like more or prefer, like I'm not that into modern Aus as much so it's easier for me to say that like Find Me isn't a one of my best—it isn't, there's a lot of things I want to fix on it, and while it is a decent fic, it's not like groundbreaking imo. But like for all of the things that need fixing with Alliance, that fic is my baby and really grounded me as a writer in a way no other writing project had before it. So like I could never not love it. Anyways, I'm babbling at this point, but basically I love all my fics so I can't choose.

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing? Rereading my writing tends to help and hoarding some of my favorite comments I've been left by readers. I know I'm a good writer, self-doubt and insecurities aside, so re-reading stuff is really a good confidence booster—but when that's not enough, it is really helpful to look back at old comments.

18. Tell us about that one book you’ll never let anyone read

Of mine??? Well, obviously by 'book' we're going with fanfiction because none of my original content is at a point where I'd really even consider it for this question. Um. Honestly, I don't think there's much if anything. Maybe some HP fics but not because I'm not like... proud of the writing or premise. Like I'd say my ideas are really good, it's just a matter of like my own time management and shit.

21. What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?

My world building. I'm also generally proud of the premises I come up with, and the themes I explore with my writing. Like I think I'm a good writer in terms of the like technical writing aspect—pros and such—and also characters, but I think I excel at world building and overall plot.

24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? The first time I ever wrote anything I was seven years old. I was at a party for my mom's boss? I think it was a birthday party? Anyway, I was the only kid there—which was fine because I was used to being the only kid in gatherings—but I was sitting alone by like a window and I just like started writing a poem about the night. That was like the first time that writing really became a part of me. When I was thirteen, when my mom got sick, I started writing poetry more. And when I was fourteen, I started writing fanficiton and that's kinda just... never stopped. I've been writing stories ever since.

27. Every writer’s least favorite question - where does your inspiration come from? Do you do certain things to make yourself more inspired? Is it easy for you to come up with story ideas?

My inspiration comes from everywhere, not to like be cliched. But inspiration really is in everything and everyone. I tend to find inspiration really easily in music, but it's also in just like the day-to-day; it's in other writers; it's in washing dishes; it's in a day trip to the ocean; it's in a quote or a touch or a word. Like genuinely, it's in big things and little things and things that shouldn't even be things. I don't feel like I really struggle with inspiration so much as motivation, really. And that is... a much harder thing to find sometimes (especially when you're mentally ill)

30. Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works?

Um. I like to read fantasy mostly, but I don't look for something similar or different from my projects intentionally. I just.... look for things that I like? But I don't really know how to explain that lol

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? Since I'm writing mostly fanfiction and the culture of having a beta reader has dwindled significantly, making it hard to find one, I do a lot of self-editing. I'm usually re-reading a lot as I'm writing. So until a chapter is done, I'm always going back and reading/editing before moving on to the next scene. And then once I'm done writing a chapter I'll usually edit it about two or three times in full in the document, then I put it in draft on Ao3 for another edit before posting.

36. Post a snippet All right a snippet..... Let's go with something from: The Art of Love, Chapter 13 (not the next chapter, but the one after). Since I left everyone hanging for so long with that last scene of Gaara and Lee, this is the entire first scene to ch13: It was all his fault. If he hadn't let himself get so carried away in the dream of Gyokukakushin, in the dream of Gaara, in the dream of safety they didn't have this wouldn't be happening. Their belongings had been stuffed haphazardly into their various bags. Despite how many times he'd checked and double checked, Lee felt sure that he'd overlooked something—some wayward item that had rolled beneath the bed or fallen behind the desk that would give them away. Gaara had watched him silently, his thoughts kept to himself as Lee dashed about their room like a mad man.

“I think that is everything,” Lee managed over the mantra of 'My fault, my fault' cycling through his mind. His voice trembled as he spoke. Every inch of him trembled. Every breath he took rattled in his chest. Every beat of his heart was a stutter against his rib cage. Every ounce of blood pumping through his veins burned with the need to run.

“This is useless,” Gaara said, the first words he'd spoken since the beach.

Lee snapped his head up, meeting Gaara's enigmatic gaze. “But—”

“They don't set sail until the end of the month,” he reminded Lee. “What use is being packed? Besides, it will look suspicious if we leave now.”

Tears burned at the corners of Lee's eyes. “But if they are coming—”

“They're coming,” Gaara murmured. “But even if they arrive before we've departed, we have our disguises. You have to trust that we'll be fine.”

Lee's head spun. How could Gaara be so calm? How could he sit there, quiet and unshakable, when Lee felt as though the world were falling apart around them? How could he be so sure that eleven days from now, they'd set sail, free and undiscovered? How was he not furious with Lee for his complacency?

Gaara was at Lee's side before Lee could shake the spinning in his head, a gentle hand at Lee's elbow and a surety in his eyes.

“I know you won't let anything happen to me,” he told Lee, as soft and insistent as the thumb he'd once pressed against the corner of Lee's mouth.

“No. Never.” Lee's stomach twisted, guilt rising like the tide. He'd let his feelings jeopardize everything.

“Then what do you have to fear?”

A trembling laugh escaped Lee, soft and unsteady. He had everything to fear, yet Gaara's gaze implored him to forget those fears. He managed to speak, his tongue heavy with the lie, “I do not know.”

“Then do not know fear. It will make this harder for us, especially if the Daimyo's soldiers arrive before we've left.”

“If they do—”

“If they do, we will be as unknown to them as any other traveler. And if not, I trust your speed to carry us to safety.”

“We would miss our ship.”

“If it comes to that, so be it. We can find other ways of traveling to Tea Country.”

Lee allowed himself to believe all would be well because he couldn't believe anything else when looking into the depths of Gaara's eyes, but there was no escaping his gnawing guilt or the knowledge that his heart had led them to ruin.

39. Do you spend a lot of time analyzing and studying the work of authors you admire? I wouldn't say a lot of time per say, certainly not as much as I should, but I definitely do like to analyze other works and learn new skills, etc.

42. How many drafts do you usually write before you feel satisfied? I don't really write “drafts” per say. Since I'm just writing fanfiction, I'm usually just writing and then heavily editing. Sometimes editing does mean taking out and entirely rewriting entire scenes. And sometimes in writing fics, I do jump ahead—though very rarely—and write a rough draft of a future scene so I don't lose the idea/beats/etc, and then that will be re-written fully when I do get to it. But on average, I'm just doing a lot of editing.

45. First or third person? Third, definitely. I'll never be able to write first person cause it just doesn't really suit me and, overall, I think that it's a very hard point of view to write from. For me, it takes a special

48. Do you prefer to write skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back? So before I write something, depending on what it is I will write an outline that can vary from a few sentences to like pages.

51. Are you a secretive writer or do you talk with your friends about your books? A bit of both really. I love talking about the things I'm working on, but I also love to keep things a surprise so I can see what people's genuine reactions are to like plot twists or whatever. Of course, my problem is that I have to like—talk about my projects to stay motivated. It's a hard balance. I usually end up talking with my roommate since they also write fanfic for Naruto but not GaaLee. We can bounce ideas off each other, when we're stuck, etc.

54. Favorite first line/opening you’ve written? Ugh this is another hard one...  I think im gonna go with the opening from IEYH right now as one of my fave becuase I think I did a decent job of setting the tone of my very first horror project: Too often, ghost stories begin with dark nights or horrible, gruesome death. Real ghosts don't follow the patterns of a novel; there are no beginnings, middles, and ends; no rising action and falling action; no denouement. Ghosts do not achieve resolution; ghost do not experience the climax of their own tale. There are no happy—or even sad—endings. There are no endings at all.

Ghost stories go on and on and on, rambling endlessly towards nothing and no where, only stopping for the finite amount of words one can speak or write in one's lifetime.

That is the true horror of death: ceaseless, unending nothingness.

[scandalsavagefanfic]

2/2 Also I have a question does anyone from Jason's harem have feelings for him, or they all just here for pretty boytoy?

I’m answering part 2 of this question first because I have some ideas for part 1. 

Short answer is, yes. Most of them actually care about him in one way or another. Not people like Lex of course. Slade doesn’t have feelings for Jason but he likes the kid as much as he likes anyone. But the Justice League love him and they’re very protective. The al Ghuls love him. Ra’s has more romantic interest than Talia but they’d both kill someone for hurting him.

And of course a certain Green Lantern gets sucked in, despite his best efforts.

Which brings me to the long answer. Here’s the first of two chapters about how Jason’s harem actually appreciates him for more than just his sexy skills.

PART 1     PART 2     PART 3

Part 4 - Read All Parts on AO3!!!

Words: 2085

Warnings: None

Nothing explicit in this chapter. Just softness. 

_____________________________________________

Kyle racks up a startling number of favors owed in a startlingly short amount of time.

If he’s honest with himself–which he generally tries to avoid on principle; if you can’t lie to yourself, what’s the point?–he might be more interested than he likes to let on. But he assures himself over and over that he’s not doing anything that everyone else isn’t doing. 

Hell, even Hal is hooking up with Jason. 

Though… Kyle doesn’t think Jason is purposefully trying to give Wayne a heart attack, he’s just doing what he needs and wants to do. But Kyle is positive Hal is definitely fucking with Batman as much as he fucking Jason. Kyle would bet his tiny apartment on the fact that at least 25% of the attraction for his predecessor is sticking it to the Bat.

Alright… maybe Jason does get a little joy out of Wayne’s discomfort.

That said, no matter what he tells himself, Kyle is all too aware of the fact that Jason gets something out of every rendezvous.

Except the ones with him.

They both know the favors were just an excuse, even if neither of them would admit it. 

It takes months before Jason finally starts calling them in. And when he does it’s in small ways. 

Requests for backup are expected when they come. 

But then Jason uses one to ask Kyle to pick up take out from Jason’s favorite hole in the wall in Hong Kong “on his way over”.

He uses another just to get to see Oa–the Guardians were not thrilled to have a “tourist”–and Kyle found it was actually enjoyable showing Jason around. He was amused and a pleasantly surprised when Jason hit it off easily with Kilowag. Far less surprised (and far less amusing) when they visited Guy and Arkillo and it was like the three of them had known each other for years.

Of all the little things Jason uses his favors for, Kyle’s favorites are the massages. They almost always lead to more and it hasn’t escaped Kyle’s attention that when they do, Jason doesn’t count it.

Even when it doesn’t lead to a round of increasingly… affectionate sex, he still gets to work pleasantly scented oil into the astounding number of giant knots plaguing the rippling muscle under Jason’s warm, scarred skin.

Both scenarios usually end the same way too. With Jason dozing off and snuggling close as Kyle uses his ring to get the lights.

He’s reasonably certain that none of Jason’s other arrangements get to stay the night.

They’re both intelligent, capable men. They know what this is. What it’s become. What it could morph into.

But Kyle’s too stubborn to voice it and Jason is too, even if he wasn’t cripplingly insecure about shit like this. 

Still, it hadn’t really hit him how bad he has it until now. Until he slowly crawled out of bed, careful not to wake the other man, showered, and exits the bathroom to what he can only describe as an ethereal view.

Jason is laying on his front, arms tucked under the pillow, breathing slowly and evenly. His mouth is slightly opened, a small dark spot on the pillowcase where he’s drooled a little. The sunlight pours into the room between the opened slats of the blinds. One band illuminates the mop of wild black curls, making the thinner edges glow golden like a halo. Several more stretch across the width of his broad shoulders, his rib-cage, his tapered waist. The soft cotton sheet has slid low, sitting atop the perfectly rounded rise of Jason’s butt, the sea-green edge perfectly angled with the blade of light. The last one shines warm and orange over his toes, peeking out from under the soft cotton sheet.

Sketching is like breathing to Kyle. He’ll doodle on napkins or receipts, anything with a little space, of anything with a little beauty. 

He doesn’t pay much attention to the paper he swipes from Jason’s open file folder. Just enough to note that there was nothing on the back. 

That’s how he finds himself drawing Jason while he sleeps. Painstakingly smoothing over the line for the arch of Jason’s spine, the curve of his ass. Lovingly capturing the shape of his lips, the thick, dark fan of his eyelashes. 

It’s while he carefully adds every scar from memory that Kyle realizes just how deep he’s gone. 

His hand goes still and he glances up to Jason’s face with the surprise of the sudden understanding. 

Then he jumps so hard he drags the pencil through the drawing. 

Jason is laying there awake, bright eyes watching but otherwise still as he was when Kyle started.

“Jesus,” Kyle hisses, trying to collect himself. “Scared me half to death. How long have you been awake?”

Not very long if the soft, groggy smile Jason gives him is any indication.

“Just a couple of minutes,” Jason answers, voice husky from sleep (and the way Kyle made him scream last night). 

Kyle cringes internally. A couple of minutes is a long freaking time to not notice. 

“You had your focused face on,” Jason continues, shifting a little to stretch like a cat. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“My what now?”

Jason turns onto his side, clearly in no rush to get out of bed, and smirks at him.

“When you’re really into what you’re doing, your brow pinches and you either chew your lip or, honest to god, stick your tongue out. It’s cute.”

Kyle scowls. “Puppies are cute. I’m a badass, space cop.”

With a snort, Jason sits up against the headboard and runs his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you say, officer.”

And fuck if that doesn’t give Kyle all kinds of ideas.

“What were you doing?” Jason asks, attention trained down at the book Kyle was using as a hard surface.

“Uh… nothing.” He tries to think of how he can hide it from the other man. Even to an untrained eye, the emotion in it is obvious. And Jason knows a surprising amount about art. Kyle would much rather never become more than this than risk losing what they have.

Jason’s smirk turns mischievous and there’s an amused glint in his eyes. “Drawing me like one of your French girls?" 

The little huff of laughter Kyle manages does nothing to hide the rapid shot of color to his cheeks. His "no” is weak and unconvincing. 

“Well, come on, Rayner. Let me see?”

Kyle’s breath freezes in his chest and he hesitates, clutching the sheet of cheep printer paper closer to him.

“Dude, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Jason taunts.

It’s not bad at all. That’s the problem.

It might be the best thing Kyle’s ever drawn.

He swallows hard and braces himself. Then gets up and sits on the edge of the bed as he hands it over. 

Watching the smile slip from Jason’s face feels like getting punched in the gut. 

It’s over now. Kyle got too serious. The Pit left Jason with something he can’t fully control and he doesn’t want or need a partner. It doesn’t matter that Kyle would understand that Jason would still have to… do what he does. It doesn’t matter because the last thing Jason needs is some useless serious relationship cramping his style.

“Is… is this supposed to be me?" 

The question surprises Kyle. Because it’s painfully obvious that the portrait is of Jason, down to the almost unnoticeable freckles across his nose and cheekbones. And the question is asked so timidly as Jason stares down at the sheet with wide eyes. Not an ounce of recognition. 

"I couldn’t have made it more obviously you if it was a photo,” Kyle says lightly, hoping head off the worst of things.

But Jason stares for long moments, expression confused, until finally he pulls his eyes away to look up at Kyle.

“But I… I don’t look like this.”

Kyle blinks at him. “What? I mean… you don’t have a big, dark pencil line through you but–”

“No… I mean… this is… this is so…” He huffs. “It’s too… pretty. Didn’t really think you were the type to romanticize the subject. Sure you didn’t have Dickface on the mind?”

It’s defensive. Using humor to armor himself. Kyle can practically see the walls going up in Jason’s mind as he tries to rationalize things. As he tries to make what he’s seeing on the paper–what Kyle sees–fit with his own idea of himself. 

Leaning in, Kyle takes Jason’s chin in one hand and pushes the book with the sheet of paper down to Jason’s lap while forcing Jason to look up at him.

“This is you, Jason. Every scar, every freckle, every bruise from last night. Just you. No one else.”

“But…”

“No. It’s beautiful because you’re beautiful,” Kyle says gently. Then he smirks. “And because I’m really talented. But I promise. That’s exactly what you look like.”

“To you maybe,” he grumbles, trying to turn away. 

Kyle tightens his grip and gives a little tug to get Jason meet his eyes again.

“Yes. To me." 

Jason’s eyes widen and he stops breathing. 

"I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, Jason, but you’re objectively attractive,” Kyle continues. He looks into those vivid aquamarine irises and where once he would have bristled, felt the urge to challenge and compete, he softens. “And to me… you’re perfect.”

The room is deathly quiet. It seems like neither of them are even breathing. 

Eventually Jason gulps and looks back down at the drawing. 

Kyle glares at the headboard, kicking himself for letting things get this far; for having to come clean about his feelings; for putting Jason (and himself) in this awkward position. For letting their friends-with-benefits agreement slide into murkier waters. A lifetime ago, when he did have a stupid, ill-advised, youthful crush on Batman, he promised himself he’d never actually fall for any Bat. They were all bad news in one way or another.

So of course it’d be the asshole black sheep of the family, the biggest bad news of the bunch (except for maybe the punk kid who’s Robin now), who he’s going to have to get over.

An indignant noise from below him draws his attention back to Jason. 

Jason who is glaring up at him.

Kyle shrugs and splays his palms open in surrender. “What?”

The drawing gets shoved in his face. Only it’s not the drawing. Its the other side. The side emblazoned with the Coast City Police Department logo.

“You drew on my police report, asshole!”

He searches Jason’s face. The younger man isn’t kicking him out; isn’t telling him off. Hell, Jason isn’t even asking that they just keep things casual. Kyle knows he can be clueless about this kind of stuff (Jason honestly believes Ra’s is only interest in him is the sex) but there was obvious understanding in that gemstone gaze when Kyle spilled his heart.

“Those aren’t supposed to leave the precinct. You shouldn’t even have it,” Kyle retorts. 

Jason rolls his eyes so hard Kyle’s surprised they stay in his head. “No shit dumbass, that’s why I have to sneak it back in!”

Trying–and failing–to stop the smile tugging at his lips, Kyle says “Oh… whoops” and goes to shift back, put a little more space between them. But Jason’s hand snaps out and the next thing he knows he’s flat on his back with Jason towering over him, those fucking thighs straddling his hips

“Don’t worry,” Jason practically purrs, “you can make it up to me.”

“Oh no. What a great inconvenience,” Kyle smirks as Jason leans close.

The kiss is softer than usual. Less desperate; less demanding; less competitive. 

“And then?” He whispers it against Jason’s lips when they part to get some air. He can’t help it. He has to know.

Jason hums and mouths at the pulse point in Kyle’s throat.

“And then I’ll be hungry so you can take me to breakfast.”

He swallows hard against that talented tongue and the pointed roll of Jason’s hips against his groin.

“A favor?” he asks, hardly daring to hope.

Jason kisses his mouth again before answering, cheeks bright red and eyes averted. “A date… if you want.”

Kyle threads his fingers into the curls that stick up every which way and when he pulls Jason into the next kiss, it’s got all the desperation of the ones before and then some.

“I want.”

#Jason Todd #Kyle Rayner #JayKyle #jason/justice league #I have to find a better tag for this stuff #fluffy #Anonymous

[essaysbyciara]

Thy Neighbor II: Lovin’ The Crew [Chapters 19 + 20]

[Prologue] [Chapters 1 + 2] [Chapters 3 + 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapters 7 + 8] [Chapters 9 + 10] [Chapters 11 + 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapters 14 + 15][Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] 

Warnings: Language, smut thoughts

The madness continues... 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Y'lan's favorite spot inside of this lavish AirBnB just blocks away from Center City is the outdoor patio. Full of lush bushes peppered with flowers of multiple hues and a large table long enough to fit more than twelve disciples, it's job as the bar is doing the trick. The table is way more than a wet bar, stacked with every type of whisky, gin and tequila known to man. It's also the grandest medicine cabinet Y'lan could have in hopes to soothe his raging emotions toward Trevante.

Y'lan always knew Trevante to be a loose cannon when it came to women. He heard some of the stories straight from the horse's mouth, the worst of them coming from both Michael and Yahya, his best friends. But what he's been hearing from -- and about -- Trevante during the early hours of this pre-bachelor party has him on edge.

Trevante just spoke of "sexing down some chick" just weeks ago, describing her as "super thick, nerdy bitch, tight pussy, all that." Y'lan would only know of Ciara's shape, need to wear glasses and disposition toward learning new things. He never got the chance to see if he'd get stuck inside of her love. However, hearing Trevante talked about Ciara -- or who he imagines to be, at least -- this type of way disturbs him beyond belief. The same girl that Trevante spoke of "ending his playboy ways" with is being talked about in a room full of immature frat boys as just another "fuck", as Stephan just called her. A label that Trevante didn't correct but rather laughed at.

Maybe Trevante just wants to impress his friends or he is trying to keep up appearances. Either way, Y'lan wasn't having it. A shot of top shelf whisky is to keep his mind on other things.

"Yo, bro ... we got all night, man." Trevante catches Y'lan just as he pours his next shot. He saw him pour his first two drinks, watching him out on the porch as the rest of his friends cracked jokes and delved in laughter around him. Trevante didn't want to talk about Ciara in this way. She wasn't a "fuck"; she was his girlfriend. While he loves her body, makes her keep her glasses on during sex as a fetish thing and puts her at the top of his "best sex ever" list, he didn't mean to make their love life his boys' business. Trevante reverts to number-eight-on-his-SPR07 line when he's around the fellas. He's grown since then, he thought. But once he saw Y'lan leave the room, he knew he messed up.

Quiet as it's kept, Y'lan is who Trevante wants to be. He admires Y'lan's drive to live life for something greater than himself, volunteering and giving his life to the church. Trevante wasn't a religious person but he would pay attention to how Y'lan would talk about how God helped him get his act together from a life of doing dirt, Ciara catching most of those stains. He felt Y'lan's "stand up" energy and wanted a part. Him checking in on Y'lan is in his way of trying to be better -- and hoping that he didn't turn off the person he hopes can turn into his best friend.

He pours himself a shot as well. "Y'lan, you cool?"

"Yeah. Just a lot going on in there, man. That's all."

"If you're not feeling this, we can always dip out. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything. This really ain't for us anyway. "

Y'lan is taken aback by Trevante's invitation to leave. In one way, he's glad that his friend is aware of what may or may not be a place that he would want to be. On the flipside, he's hurt that his friend is responsible for making him feel uncomfortable in the first place. "Nah, man. I'm good. It's just for today. The wilderness lasted forty days. I'll be solid." Y'lan knocks down another shot. "Let's head out to the day party spot. I'll be cool. I just need to breathe a bit."

---

"I feel like I can breathe up here..." Ciara marvels at the orange, auburn and marigold-hued leaves that fall around her and Winston as they wind around a somewhat busy trailway on a Saturday morning. They make sure to make room for the bicyclists and runners with their strollers as they walk the twisted pathway through trees and rotting cabins. "This reminds me of back home."

"Where's back home for you?"

"Suburban Maryland, toward the mountains. We were like the only Black family there but it was a beautiful place to grow up. What about you, Winston? You've been in New York all of your life?"

"Ehh, it's a long story."

"I got time..."

CHAPTER TWENTY

Raised by a preacher father and a stay-at-home mother who were both full-on fire-and-brimstone, barring secular music and television inside of their house, Winston and his sister, in church six times a week and twice on Sundays, were forbidden to go on class trips or to sleepovers. Feeling trapped, Winston started hanging out with all of the "'Rican and Dominican" kids from the neighborhood. There he met his best friend, Ronald.

Built like a NFL player by tenth grade, Ronald scared everyone except Winston, big and bad just like he was. As much as Winston's parents didn't like his new crew, they knew Ronald's mother from church so they lessened their grip. The two became inseparable, Winston spending weekends at Ronald's house during the summer. He got to watch BET and play XBox for all hours of the day, this little ounce of freedom in a world full of restrictions.

But then one day, he couldn't go over Ronald's house anymore and Winston's dad wouldn't tell him why. Winston would hang outside with Ronald but then his mother would drag him into the house. "I better not catch you hanging out with that boy..." is all his mother could say. Nothing made sense until it did. Ronald's mother found a note written for Winston. Inside were Ronald's feelings for him, feelings that his mother felt "were for girls..."

"So that's why you're writing about the persecution of sexuality in the early Church, then? Makes sense." Ciara exhales from hearing Winston's story. It was a lot to take in but Winston felt comfortable enough to tell her about it.

"Yeah. I'm passionate about why we do what we do, you know? There's a root to everything. But I didn't mean to make this all sad and stuff, I'm sorry..." Winston laughs to break up his somber tone. Ciara finds it nice to break up her life with some God talk. Outside of school, she doesn't get much of it. She definitely doesn't get it with Trevante.

"No, you're good! I appreciate it. It kinda reinvigorated me to get back to working on my paper, actually. I don't get to have these conversations with other students often because of work and like, all my close people aren't in the church like that, so..."

"I'm always down for meeting over coffee whenever you're free, if you need to keep fleshing things out."

"Man, Winston. I would love that so much..." Ciara pauses to take a look at Winston before he gives a response. His smile says enough.

"We should be getting you back though, I know your girls are probably looking for you..."

"They ain't even thinking about me. They in that house knocking down mimosas like it's a job." Winston and Ciara both laugh as they turn around on the trailway. The closer they get to the house, the louder the sounds of Jodeci are coming from their AirBnB.

I've been watchin' you for so very long tryin' to get my nerve built up to be so strong/ I really want to meet you but I'm kinda scared/ 'cuz you're the kind of lady with so much class...

The crowd at this day party is way too young to know anything about Jodeci. Most of them weren't born when K-Ci, JoJo, Dalvin and DeVante were killin' the streets. But Trevante, Y'lan, Stephan, Michael and the boys make the most of it. And the worst...

"Yo, Stephan is a damn savage," Michael says as he watches his friend's married frat brother flirt with another girl that looks just a shade over 21. Y'lan's been waiting and watching Stephan all night, calling him a "fuck nigga" under his tequila-laced breath. The girl's look of discomfort is clear to everybody else but Stephan.

It's even more clear to Trevante. Stephan wasn't just drunkenly flirting with some random. He grabs the girl's hand and takes her to their VIP section.

"Yo, yo... this is Meganne. She's a Lambda. Ain't think they were still out here looking this fine, shit." Meganne gently smiles to hide her embarrassment. She spotted Trevante and his crew some time ago as she and her girls grooved to another Ma$e song that they were too young to know. After Trevante told her to cool it for the sake of his relationship, she didn't walk by his office like she would always do, hoping to catch his attention.

After talking to her prophytes, she realized that Trevante was in the wrong for how he treated her. She felt strung along, feeling as if Trevante had this "girlfriend" for as long as he was taking her home from work and to lunch everyday. He would be her first "fuck nigga". Too bad he had to be so damn fine.

So as she sits down, she tries not to catch eyes with Trevante. Trevante is staring holes into her and Y'lan notices. He then remembers running into a girl that looked just like Meganne trying to hold back tears as she ran out of his office. Y'lan puts what he thinks is two and two together. He had enough. His fingers -- and the liquor -- went to work.

I ain't trying to win you back, Ciara. So that's not my move. You just need to know how trash this dude is. You deserve better, straight up.

Taglist: @doublesidedscoobysnacks @diva-princess-on-fleek @voyagetoadinas9 @walkrightuptothesun @wvsspoppin  @dreamlovealways @rockwit609 @thegayaxeman @joyfulwombatdreamermaker @blackpinup22 @hookedtoherfire @kris-did-it @l-auteuse @styleismyaddiction

#trevante rhodes x fanfiction #trevante rhodes #y'lan noel #winston duke #thy neighbor

[robronsecretsanta]

Hello, One Small Latte, Please

For @nooneelsecomesclose17​​ ❤️You are such a talented author, so I hope you enjoy this little fic! I made sure to keep it fluffy and have a happy ending! 😁

Summary: Five times Robert tries to get discounted coffee, and the one time Aaron finally relents.

Tags: 5+1, coffee fic, fluffiness, Aaron is exasperated, Robert is charmed by it

1

“Hello, one small latte, please.” The man says with a cheeky smile. He looks pleased with himself - a large grin on his stupid face.

“Right. Five quid please.” Aaron says dully.

“Think it’s one-fifty, mate.” The man says with this irritating smile. The man is referring to the sign outside the coffeehouse that Matty thought would be a ‘fun way to get customers to be nice’. It’s not been fun. In fact, Aaron has had too many customers trying to get discounted coffee and him having to explain the stupid sign. He’s going to make Matty be the afternoon barista and see how fun he thinks the sign is.

“Nice try, mate, but it’s just a tongue in the cheek sign.” Aaron gives the man a pointed look while he’s steaming the milk.

The man’s smile doesn’t falter - it actually grows. He leans over the counter as if he’s about to divulge a secret, “So what do I have to do to get a discounted coffee?”

Aaron finally gives a proper look at the man. He’s seen him a few times before - he’s managed to stand out to Aaron despite serving hundreds of people a day. This is the first time the man is trying to broker a conversation and Aaron is hardly impressed.

“Work here for an employee discount?” Aaron tersely suggests. The amount of times Aaron has had to have this conversation makes him especially short with this man. It’s hardly cute at this point, and Aaron is ready to strangle the next person who tries to get a discounted coffee.

The man chuckles and leans away from the counter as Aaron finishes up the latte. If Aaron is being honest, he’d probably enjoy the attempted flirting the man is trying at a different point in time, but as it stands, it just serves to annoy him. Aaron pours the steamed milk into the papered cup to finish the latte, and hands it over to the man. “One small latte.”

The man lifts his papered cup, as if to toast Aaron. “I’ll get you to give me a discount on your coffee one of these days, Aaron.” He gives a half smirk, looking at the apron Aaron’s wearing with his name stitched on it, and walks out before Aaron can respond.

Aaron makes Matty serve drinks the rest of the day, and Aaron sulks in the backroom.

2

When Aaron was a kid, he’d make his mum breakfast in bed for her birthday and other holidays. His favorite thing about making the breakfast (which usually just consisted of an assortment of toast and jams), was making a cup of coffee for her. Chas had a french press that Aaron would use to make the coffee. Sometimes, Chas would just politely drink a few sips but toss it when Aaron wasn’t looking. Other times, he would brew the perfect cup, and he’d watch her eyes grow in amazement and nod at Aaron.

Aaron’s passion for coffee grew as the years went by. And little by little, he saved enough money to open Has Beans. He had opened shop a little over six months ago to modest success. It’s been a dream come true for Aaron to now experiment and brew the coffee he wants as owner. He hired Matty a few weeks ago when the shop began to get more popular. Matty has been on a crusade to market Has Beans as a fun coffee shop; hence, the sign outside the shop. After the whole discounted coffee attempt from the sign, Matty has scaled it back to just coffee related to puns.

It’s why it’s a surprise to Aaron when the arrogant man from the other day comes back with the same smug smile from before and says, “Hello, one latte please.”

“You know that ain’t gonna work.” Aaron says with a roll of his eyes, “Five quid.”

The man chuckles but slides the fiver towards the cashier’s box as Aaron gets stared on the latte. He sneaks a few glances to the man as he prepares the drink. He’s looking intently at his phone, tapping away on his screen. He’s just as fit as before, Aaron is reluctant to admit.

“Y'know,” the man starts, looking up from his phone to talk to Aaron, “Think there’s something off with the way you make your latte.”

Aaron immediately stops making the latte, “You what?”

The man looks like a cat that got the canary. He smiles and innocently says, “You heard me. There’s something off with your lattes.”

Aaron has never hated a customer. He has sometimes felt a lot of anger and annoyance, but he always knew their interactions were fleeting and he’d get over their rudeness. But standing here, across from a man that Aaron has to listen to say his lattes are bad, Aaron hates him.

“You know what’s wrong?” The man continues, testing every ounce of Aaron’s patience.

“The fact I’m still serving you?” Aaron suggests, angrily frothing the milk. He’ll not let his temper impede his ability to make a latte, even if the man apparently finds the drink offensive.

The man actually laughs at Aaron, as if he made some joke. Just like the last time he was in here, the man leans over the counter to talk to Aaron. “I bet you’re using a single origin coffee as your espresso, right? The flavor peaks are interrupting the smoothness of the milk.” The man nods to beans that sit behind the counter with a knowing look.

Aaron doesn’t want to admit it, but the man has an excellent point. He has been using his house blend as a blanket base for his drinks. It’s not because Aaron thinks that it’s the best way to make his drinks, but because of his limited resources as a new business owner.

Still, he’ll be damned before he lets the man have a victory. “Here’s a thought: if you don’t like it, don’t get it.” Aaron snidely smiles, handing the apparently repulsive latte.

“Maybe you should start giving me a discount on my lattes for this free advice.” The man takes the latte from Aaron’s hand with a wink. He strolls out of the shop and Aaron has never hated someone as much as he does that man.

3

What bothers Aaron the most about the man’s criticism is, Aaron is passionate about coffee. He’s not some bellend who doesn’t know the difference between a dark roast or a light roast. He understands the criticism, but it gets under his skin that this stranger is coming into Aaron’s shop and trying to parade his coffee expertise. There’s a difference between actually being the brewer of the coffee and being someone who just drinks it. Aaron becomes determined to find the right blend to prove that smug bastard wrong.

The evening the man criticizes his coffee, Aaron goes home to his flat and spends his time roasting different beans. He has a vast collection of different sourced beans that he experiments on and finally settles on blends of dark roasts. It’s well into the night when the aroma of the blend tells him it’s the right bean and roast.

He uses a moka pot to brew the espresso - favoring an old fashioned way of making the espresso - and froths the milk to make his latte. The first sip, he can detect a few hints of chocolate - the espresso bold enough to withstand the milk creating a smooth body. He is pleased with that first sip, feeling confident that this blend will satisfy the coffee snob.

It’s a couple of days of waiting before the arrogant man walks back into the coffeeshop. Aaron, in the meantime, has received many compliments on his new lattes, and it’s bolstered his confidence enough that he’s not annoyed with seeing the man. He’s ready to wipe the smug look off the man’s face.

“Hello, one small latte please.”

“Five pounds.” Aaron starts on the latte without a second glance to the man. He takes out his new blend - grounded to a fine texture for the espresso - and begins brewing it fresh for the man.

“Are you ever going to ask me what my name is?” The man petulantly asks, placing a fiver on the counter. He says nothing about trying to get a discounted coffee, instead settling on his whiny question.

“You always come when there’s no one here. Don’t need to ask your name.” Aaron finishes steaming the milk and makes a little leaf out of the milk. He’s been working on his latte art lately but sticks to a simple leaf for Mister Coffee Snob. He’d no doubt find another way to critique Aaron’s coffee if he attempted something more ambitious.

“That’s nice.” The man says when he sees the leaf. Aaron wrings his hands a little nervously while he watches the man take a sip of the latte. The man’s eyes widen a bit when he’s finished with the first sip. “You listened to me.” He says with the smugest of grins.

“Yeah, well…” Aaron trails off with a half shrug. The man surprisingly doesn’t gloat but takes another drink of the latte.

“This is fantastic.” The man says with a proud smile, “I knew you had it in you to make this better.”

Aaron gives the man a tight but genuine smile. Strangely enough, he wanted to make this man proud. At first it was wounded pride and spite that made Aaron stay as late as he did to make the perfect latte for this man. But it morphed into also trying to better himself and serve coffee that will make his customers happy and Aaron proud to serve.

“I reckon this means I get discounted lattes from now on. I am, after all, the reason you changed the blend.” The man says with the cheekiest of smiles.

“Piss off, you.” Aaron says with no heat in his voice. They share a smile before the man leaves the shop.

4

Aaron doesn’t want to admit it, but he is finding himself less and less annoyed by the man. There was something very genuine about him the last time he was in here, complimenting Aaron’s efforts on the changed latte. Aaron has embarrassingly replayed the moment the man had realized Aaron made a change to the espresso many times. It’s strange to suddenly feel some fondness for someone Aaron had been so hellbent to hate.

Matty has been making fun of him every time the man comes in. If Matty is the main barista and sees the man come in, he’ll pretend to get busy so that Aaron has to serve him. “I figured I need to keep playin’ cupid, since it was my brilliant sign that has caused him to come in every day.” Matty said waggling his eyebrows. Aaron threw a tea towel at his face to get him to shut up.

It’s another slow part of the day when the man comes into Has Beans. Aaron does not smile when he sees him, he doesn’t.

“Hello, one small latte, please.” The man says, actually smiling (unlike Aaron, thank you very much).

“Right. Can I get your name?” Aaron picks up a paper cup and his sharpie. For the first time ever, the man looks thrown by the conversation. He had already taken out a five pound note, and was holding it midair when he gapes stupidly at Aaron. He turns around to see only a few patrons milling around the shop, no one in the queue behind him. Finally, his face lights up and a triumphant smile grows.

The myriad of expressions that dance across the man’s face makes Aaron’s face flush in embarrassment. Finally, the man leans over the counter, smile still intact, “You want to know my name?”

“Well what else am I supposed to write on here? Coffee snob?”

The man laughs and laughs, eyes crinkling and making Aaron chuckle himself. When the laughter has ebbed away, he looks Aaron in the eye and finally tells him his name: “Robert. But I do prefer the title of coffee snob.”

Aaron, against his better judgement, smiles back as he writes ‘Robert’ on the blank papered cup. “Okay, Robert, that’d be five quid.”

Robert laughs and finally slides the five pound note towards Aaron but says nothing. Aaron makes the latte in silence, trying not to look at Robert while he makes it. He feels embarrassed enough, and doesn’t want to do anything else he might regret. He finishes the latte and hands the cup with Robert’s name on it. Robert takes the cup and turns the cup around, examining the blocky letters of Aaron’s penmanship. “Shame.” He says when he’s done looking at the cup.

“What?” Aaron picks at some of the coffee utensils nervously.

“Well, you know my name now, thought that might have meant you wrote on here that I get a mate’s rate next time I’m in here.” Robert says.

“You think my knowing your name means we’re mates now?” Aaron asks with the barest of smiles.

“I’ve never worked this hard for someone to know my name. Think we might be more than mates, wouldn’t you say?” The unapologetic confidence that Robert exudes would annoy Aaron in any other person. But with him, there’s something very attractive about how confident Robert holds himself. It makes Aaron sway a little on his feet, leaning over the counter himself, trying to get closer to Aaron.

Unfortunately, before Aaron has a chance to say something back, a customer interrupts their conversation to order themselves a mocha cappuccino. It takes Aaron a few moments of preparing the drink that by the time he’s done with it, he notices Robert is gone. Aaron is not disappointed.

Just like how he wasn’t smiling when Robert first came into the shop.

5

It’s been a few days since Robert has come into the shop. One Robert-less day becomes two, becomes three Robert-less days. Until it’s almost a Robert-less month. Aaron has been trying very hard not to show it’s bothering him. But after snapping at a few customers, Matty gently suggests he should be main barista until Aaron cools down.

Aaron takes out his disappointment by spending some time roasting and grinding beans. It’s oddly therapeutic. As he grinds different coarseness, Aaron imagines he’s grinding Robert’s stupid face. After a week of roasting and grinding, he’s back out front as main barista.

He’s busy with the lunch time rush, not paying much attention to his customer’s faces when he hears that distinguishable voice, “Hello, one small latte, please,” and Aaron snaps his head up to see a sheepish looking Robert.

Aaron is too slammed to say anything, he busies himself with getting the latte done while Matty takes the cash (five pounds, as usual). When Aaron is calling out the latte for Robert, he deliberately touches Aaron’s fingers when he takes the cup out of Aaron’s hand. Aaron doesn’t spare him much thought as he continues to fill the orders and appease impatient businessmen and women.

Robert lingers at the shop, seating himself at a table and drinking his latte thoughtfully. Aaron is distracted by sneaking over glances towards him. The lunch hour seems to be extra populated with people, the hour itself feeling longer than normal as well. Finally, when the crowd becomes manageable, Aaron leaves Matty in charge as he takes a well deserved break. Aaron makes his way to the table Robert has sat himself at, and sits across from him.

“Alright?” Aaron asks, feeling awkward. This is the first time he’s actually started a conversation with Robert without an order being the starter to their conversations.

“Hmm?” Robert looks at Aaron with a curious look on his face. “Oh yeah. Yeah, alright.”

“Only, I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.” Aaron says a little nervously.

Robert lifts an eyebrow, and a teasing smile graces his face. “Well you know what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder. Thought I’d get you to miss me so much, you would have to give me a discounted latte in relief of seeing me again.”

Aaron can’t help but smile at the adamancy of Robert’s attempt for a discounted latte. He feels better talking to Robert again, not entirely sure why he was gone for so long, but happy his demeanor is exactly the same. Aaron gets up, ready to head back to the back of the bar, when Robert gently grasps his right wrist. “Hang on a second, Aaron.”

Aaron is still standing, but looks down at Robert in mild curiosity. Robert rarely has said Aaron’s name, but he likes the way it sounds coming from him. Robert looks at Aaron shly, before letting out a small sigh. “I have a confession to make.”

A slight trepidation fills Aaron, even though he really has nothing to be nervous about. Still, he waits patiently to see what Robert is going to say. “I have to admit that your lattes are good, but I’m not actually a huge fan of lattes in general.”

The relief that floods him that it’s something innocuous supersedes exactly what Robert said. Aaron lifts an eyebrow in confusion. “So all this time you’ve been trying to get a discount on your latte, and you’re not even a fan of them?” Aaron demands with a smile, Robert is the most incorrigible man he’s ever met.

Robert shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair, giving Aaron a lazy smile, “Well what can I say? I’m determined for me discounted coffee.”

Aaron flips him off before walking back to the counter, shaking his head.

+1

Ever since Robert’s confession to not really liking lattes, he has started coming in daily into Has Beans. Aaron tries every time to guess the type of drink that is actually Robert’s favorite. Robert finishes every drink Aaron brews him, but always says with a smirk, “Sorry, try again.” It’s honestly been entertaining for Aaron to experiment on different drinks and having Robert try them.

Aaron never thought he would like Robert as much as he does when he first met him. Aaron had actually hated him for a brief moment, and now, Robert’s visits to Has Beans are the highlight of his day. Lately, Aaron has been wanting more from their interactions. Robert has started staying longer at the shop, the entire time it takes for him to slowly sip at his drink. They’ve been flirting with each other, but neither one has done or tried anything else.

Robert comes in during a peak time - Aaron and Matty churning out orders quickly and efficiently as possible. He goes and sits down at one of the few empty seats. Aaron shoots him a few looks while he’s busy making drinks and sees Robert is occupying himself by reading a local newspaper. It makes Aaron smile fondly as he continues to make drinks.

When the rushtime crowd dissipates, Robert gets up from his chair and makes his way to the counter. “Hello, one small coffee, please,” he says when he gets to the counter. Robert has amended his usual greeting somehow still trying to get discounted coffee despite Aaron giving him different drinks not even on the menu.

Aaron just shakes his head with a smile, but looks at Robert consideringly. One thing Aaron remembers when Robert first criticized Aaron’s latte was the fact he knew Aaron was using a single origin bean for it. It makes Aaron consider for a few moments before deciding on the cup he’s going to brew for Robert.

He takes his fruity light roast beans and grinds them into the portafilter and tamps it down as compactly as possible. The espresso brews perfectly - beautiful light brown crema percolates down into a cup - the light and fruity aroma filling the air. When the espresso is done brewing, Aaron adds boiling water and makes a cafe americano. A simple americano for a coffee snob such as Robert actually makes perfect sense.

“One americano.” Aaron says with a barely contained smile. Robert’s eyes widen in amazement, and eagerly outstretches his hand when Aaron hands him the mug of coffee. He takes a small sip of the americano, and Robert’s face lights up when he swallows the coffee.

“This,” Robert says with admiration heavy in his voice, “is the best americano I’ve ever had. You hit it right on the nose”

Aaron ducks his head in both embarrassment and pride. He knew Robert would love this drink, and knew as he made it, that this was the drink of choice for Robert.

“How much do I owe you?” Robert asks, holding the americano in both his hands, cradling it like it’s the most important thing he’s held.

“Nowt.” Aaron mumbles, cleaning out the portafilter to occupy his hands. He can hear the intake of breath from Robert, making Aaron’s face heat up in embarrassment.

Aaron still hasn’t looked up to see Robert’s reaction, but his smugness is palpable in the air just by the silence that fills between them. Finally, he hears Robert shuffle closer to the edge of the counter, folding his arms on top of the corian surface. Aaron looks up to see Robert grinning at him.

“Is that so?” The triumph in Robert’s voice is unmistakable.

Aaron gives a noncommittal shrug, but sways a little on his feet. Robert continues grinning at Aaron, before taking another sip of his americano. Leaning a little further over the counter, Robert suggests, “How ‘bout this instead: I pay for my americano, and you pay for tea with me tonight?”

Now it’s Aaron’s turn to grin, feeling all the embarrassment from earlier evaporate. “Smooth. Has this been your ploy all along?” Aaron responds with a smile.

Robert shrugs, “Obviously. A fit bloke like you and you make brew a mean americano. It’s a win-win for me. So?”

Aaron laughs a little, and looks behind him. Matty is further behind the counter, wiping down a few of the instruments, pretending not to listen to their conversation, but there’s a small smile on his face. Aaron claps Matty’s shoulder as he passes by and walks around the counter. Robert meets up halfway with a hopeful look on his face. It’s endearing to Aaron in a way that he never thought would be possible the first time Robert walked into Has Beans. “I suppose I can do tea. Got nothing else going on.” Aaron sighs dramatically.

Robert’s face somehow lights up even brighter than when he first took a sip of the americano, and snakes his arms around Aaron’s waist, “You know…now that I’ve got a date with you, I expect discounted americanos from now on.”

Aaron can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth and shuts Robert up by giving him a kiss.

“Yeah, keep dreaming.” Aaron says when he breaks away.

#robron secret santa #robron fanfiction

[jlpplays1]

~Drake- “You’ll See, Walker..” He says with sweet smile and a kiss. ❤️ Part 2 *

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

Book: The Royal Heir

~~all characters belong to pixelberry, just borrowing them for my story.

Rating: mature

Summary: Drake has planned a day of special surprises

(Both Parts =3,728 words)

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

Author’s note: Hey guys!! FINALLY here's Part 2!!! It's been sitting in my drafts for while now so if you forgot what happened here's Part 1 (x) This is a first for me, writing with my friend @justdani14 for our Ride or Die story (* @fallenangelsjenniferanddani ) inspired me to write a piece with Drake surrounding the idea of "Do you want to dance?" ((Since he is one of my all time favorite guys around)) and it’s become this really super sweet, fun story that I built up from that. Hope you like it!!

I had a lot of fun writing it, and I don't really write that often ( @jlpplays1writes ). I wasn’t originally going to post it, I just wrote it first fun but hopefully it gives you some smiles :) <3 and I’d love to know your favorite part if you liked it!!!

Find Part 1 here :)

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

“I remember you saying how you and your mom used to sing this song to you, so I found it on a cd..” he pulls output a shiny copy of a cd with the words “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with you- Elvis Presley ” written across the disc.

..“Do you want to dance?”

“Drake,” I say kissing him long and deep. “of course I do. What are we going to play it on?” I say sitting up.

He goes behind the other couch and grabs-

“Drake, is that a boombox?! Did you have that sitting there this whole time?”

-

“Yeah, the one and only.”

“I haven’t seen one of those in years!”

“When I stayed out here in Cordonia, I begged my mom to let me keep it. I know it’s a little old fashioned, but there’s nothing like listening to the music on a gem like this..and now,” he says holding out his hand for me to take, “and now I realize why I was meant to keep it all of those years ago. It was fate.”

We look into each other’s eyes, humming and swaying in sync to the music dancing to the song that I hold close to my heart.

Drake’s POV

~~

She looks at me with such vulnerability in her eyes.

I take a deep breath and hold hold her close, same she does with me..listening to the music.

“I know that it sounds corny, but when we spend time together like this, it’s so nice to see you smile. It’s like you’re glowing from the inside out, I swear..”

“Well it certainly feels like I am. Spending this time with you is better than anything. I really mean that, Drake..I love you so much.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and I hold her close.

“Well..” I say, brushing the hair away from the side of her face. “These are things that I’ve thought about you for a long time now, so now that your Mrs. Walker- " I say giving her a light kiss “you’re gonna be hearing them a lot more often. It’s really special that you are my wife. That this is real. That you are real.”

"It may sound silly, but it’s so nice to just be able to tell you how much I love you.” She says. “Which.. is a lot by the way. It’s one thing thinking them & feeling them and another thing to actually be saying it out loud. Now we can just do that and I can say it whenever I want. Straight to the man that is taking up so much room in my head.. and in my heart.” She looks at me, deep into my eyes.

“I love you Drake Walker.”

“And I love you Mrs. Walker.”

Her eyes flick to my lips, then she kisses me. I was so sucked into the moment that I almost forgot to kiss her back. Then she breaks away, and just like that it is over too soon. She kisses me slow, long and deep. Her love shining through the intimacy of the moment. My love for her right back.

This moment just feels so right. “I’m so proud of you, you know.” I say quietly in between humming the soft tune.

“Me?!” She says lifting her head up. “Why are you proud of me?” She says surprised.

“Because... every time something seems to go wrong, you make it right.” I gently spin her out, bringing her back into my chest again. “Because you are always there for everybody when ever they need it most.” I look into her in her eyes. “There for me.” I kiss her pouring all of my love into it.

“You are everything. My everything. And my wife. God, I love saying that.” I really am so proud of her.

We stay like like that for a couple of more minutes, me holding her in my embrace. Us dancing to the music. I could stay like this for hours. Just me and her.

I don’t even know how long we stay like that for in a comfortable silence, still swaying.

“Drake..” She says looking up into my eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Her voice is nothing more than a whisper.

“For what?”

“For doing all of this for me. For taking the time out to go so above and beyond. Just to make me happy..which you..very much so..accomplished. So thank you.”

“Me too, Walker. You make me happy too. So so happy.”

For the last few hours we’ve been exploring our new home, and this one of our best adventures yet. Just holding each other close.

“You know, I know that I’m no longer the little 8 year old kid searching around Liam’s castle, but this was really fun. Even more fun than it was when I was a kid. I think it’s because I’m with you.”

“Being with you makes it so much better for me too. And haha it really was! But next time let’s bring a can of Raid though- that bug spay.. Those back entrance halls..there were a lot of creepy crawlers!”

“Haha! That sounds like a plan. You’ve got it, Walker.” I gently kiss her again, on the forehead this time as she sinks into my warm embrace.

Holding each other tight, she puts her head and a hand on my chest again. Right where it belongs.

The song ends and she kisses me gently one more time.

“That might have been the only one that I had on cd, but there’s speakers around the room..lets me connect my phone to it, so I wanted to dance with you to this one too.”

~~End Of Drake’s POV~~

~~~~~

He plugs in his phone, and ‘Everything’ by Michael Buble comes over the speakers.

🎶You're a falling star, you're the get away car🎶...🎶You're the line in the sand when I go too far 🎶

🎶You're the swimming pool on an August day🎶...🎶And you're the perfect thing to see🎶

🎶And you play you're coy, but it's kinda cute🎶...🎶Oh, when you smile at me you know exactly what you do🎶

🎶Baby, don't pretend that you don't know it's true

'Cause you can see it when I look at you🎶🎶...

“I’m so glad that we found this room!” That we found each other. I say laughing as he spins me out squealing a little bit. This is exactly where I belong. I think as I look up into Drake’s warm dark brown chocolate eyes.

🎶🎶🎶And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times

It's you, it's you; you make me sing

You're every line, you're every word, you're my everything🎶🎶🎶

We dance, having so much fun until the song is over.

~~

“Wow, you know what, this place is really nice, the more and more I look around, the more and more I love it!”

“I know! Me too.”

“So how about a game?” I say.

“I have a better idea..”

“What? Why would you take me to a pool room and then not have us play?” I say teasingly.

“Ok, we can still play and I know we’ve been hiding out in here like all day, but I have something else in mind, if that’s ok.. before our day ends.”

He looks at me with such an adoring sweetness in his eyes, I love this man so much.

“Of course its ok, Drake.”

“Ok good, I was hoping you would say that..”

“I came prepared, Walker. So if you want to play pool than we totally can, but I have a little surprise first.”

“A bigger surprise than this?” I say chucking, still looking around the room. We may have been in here for a while talking, but I still can’t get over the beauty of this secluded room.

He reaches behind the side chair in the lounge area, and pulls out a few things. There is a basket filled with all sorts of goodies. “I got us some snacks and I was going to grab champagne but opted out for the sparking water instead.”

“Awww”

He sweeps his thumb lightly over my jaw.

His voice is softer as he continues, “Let me make love to you. Let’s try for that baby again.”

~~

I feel my breath hitch.

“Ok.”

—————

It doesn’t take long to fall into that stride. You put your hand over his. Guiding him and showing him just what you want.. just what you like.. and just what you need. What’s he needs. It is pure bliss for the both of you as the two of you melt away together.

—————

“You know,” you look down at your intertwined hands resting on your belly. You are both exhausted but in the best way possible, “there could be a baby in there really soon.”

“Heh, you know what? That’s very true.”

He brings our locked hands up to his warm lips, kissing the back of my hand tenderly. “Or there could actually already be, if you think about it..And if we are lucky enough for that to be true, I promise that will love that baby with every ounce of me and all of my heart.” He says.

~~

He’s tracing small circles on the back of my hand that’s now placed over his heart, I feel the warmth of it beating.

“I know you will, I will too.”

“I know.”

That’s all we need to say, because although it’s two simple words, we both know how true they are.

I bury my head into his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me. We stay quiet just basking in the moment holding each other tight.

“Hey Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, and I know it may sound silly but thank you for marring me..”

“Honey,” He says and I look up at him.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too. And thank you for being my wife.” He kisses the top of my head.

We lay like that in each other’s warm embrace for a while and eventually fall sleep cuddled together. I am a little worried about how Dr. Ramirez said that this could take awhile, considering we have so many people counting on us. But all I can think of right now is my love for this beautiful man that I get to call my husband. This may be harder than we thought but we will get through this together.

~~

Find Part 1 here ☺️

#jlpplays1 #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #choices you play #pixelberry #choices fanfic #choices the royal heir #the royal heir fanfic #drake walker #drake x mc #drake walker x mc #trh drake #drake trh #i love drake walker!! #mrs. drake walker 💕💕 #drake walker the royal heir #drake walker fanfic #drake fanfic #trh fanfic #drake trh fanfic #part 2 #jlpplays1writes #drake walker royal romance #drake royal romance #royal romance drake #mrs. walker #royal romance drake walker

[stardusttrashed]

Busted

Requested by @evansleftboobgrablaugh

Word Count: 3350

Summary: The other Avengers find out Y/n and Loki have been secretly dating for months

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, minor swearing

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting this, I really enjoyed writing this one. Sorry, the Avengers and pretty occ. Also, thank you to every who read this <3

“Loki stop,” Y/n giggled as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. Her back pressed against his chest, their thin shirts barely enough to keep her from feeling how sculpted his chest was. His other hand trailed down her arm slowly, ghosting over her skin down to her hand which held a butter knife. Loki gently wrapped his hand around her’s similar to how one would hold a baby’s hand, humming tiredly.

She was currently in the middle make herself some brunch, relishing in the fact that she wouldn’t have to share or have her meal interrupted for the first time in months. The Avengers had been called in for a last minute mission and it wasn’t until she had gotten dressed that Steve remembered to finally inform her she wasn’t needed.  

“Take the day off, maybe you can finally have that spa day you were telling me about,” Steve smiled encouragingly.

“The only reason I’m not gonna kick your ass later for this is ‘cause I’ve actually been looking forward to some me time,” Y/n yawned before playfully punching his arm, making his smile grow wider.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.” She turned on her heels and started towards her room when Thor’s voice call out to her.

“Lady Y/n, be sure to keep an eye on my brother for me, keep him out of trouble.” Y/n bit her lip and hid her smirk. He was leaving Loki behind on purpose, just to mess with her.

“I guess I can manage that,” Y/n replied, trying to hide her giddiness. She waited before the team left before sneaking into Loki’s room and falling asleep beside him.

“I swear if you don’t stop I will cut you,” she threatened him, feigning irritation when he continued to graze the back of her neck with his nose and lips. The smooth sensation followed by the tickle of his invisible scruff sent shivers down her spine. She took a deep breath to take her attention off of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“And I’d simply thank you, my love. It’s not every day that you’re graced with the pleasure of being stabbed by such a beautiful Queen,” Loki breathed against her skin. He planted a gentle kiss along the crook of her neck, letting his lips linger for a second. She could feel his lips curl into his signature cheeky and somewhat cocky smile as she giggled silently.

He knew without a doubt the effect he had on her and he loved every bit of it. He loved knowing the curves of her body like he knew his hand. He loved knowing where she was ticklish or the best places to pepper her body with kisses depending on her mood. Loki loved her more than he or anyone else could understand. What he didn’t love was feeling like he should hide his feelings for her when they were around anyone other than Peter and Thor. He still hadn’t managed to gain everyone’s favor and if they found out about him dating Y/n all havoc would probably break loose.

Y/n rolled her eyes, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. “My King, please,” she bit her lip, hoping using that name would persuade him to comply. “I promise I’m all yours after I cook us brunch.” She turned her head just enough to see his beautiful smile. It took every ounce of Y/n’s self-control, which was fleeting away by the second, to stand her ground.

“You’re always mine,” Loki growled quietly, pulling away from her so she could finish her task. “Tell me again how you Midgardians wear these atrocities,” Loki groaned a few minutes after a comfortable silence fell over them. Y/n giggled and glanced at his attire as she turned on the stove.

The black joggers she had grabbed from Tony’s room clung loosely to his long legs, making them appear longer. He had paired it with a fitted grey NASA shirt she had bought him weeks ago so they could match. Half of his hair was pulled back into a bun while the rest hung freely just past his shoulders, making way for his ocean eyes to take center stage of attention.

“What do you mean? They’re really cute,” Y/n giggled. “Those clothes are just as sexy as your suits or armor,” she continued, making him blush softly which he covered with a scoff. Y/n quickly stole a kiss from him before attending to her grilled cheese again.

Loki took the moment to admire her. A NASA shirt hung comfortably around her body which she wore with a pair of black shorts. She was always so effortlessly beautiful, always managing to capture his attention as soon as she walked into the room even from the first time he laid eyes on her.

“Also, what are you saying about my outfits then,” Y/n teased, sending him a playful glare.

“That you’re the only one who can make these hideous things look like they should be captured in one of those art museums.” He leaned against the counter, watching her try to play off how flustered his comment made her.

Peter pulled out the small tablet Tony had brought and scanned the security cameras, looking for Y/n or Loki so he could say hi. It was weird being on a mission without Y/n being with them. Usually, she would come on every mission if he was going along even if she didn’t have to. Tony was a father/mentor figure towards both of them so naturally, they had a sibling relationship.

Within the past few months, she had stopped insisting on going on every mission with him. At first, he didn’t really think about it, but after a month had passed he began to get a little worried. Eventually, she confessed she had been spending time with Loki especially during her days off. He was totally fine with that, but when he found out they were dating he was overwhelmed with a feeling of happiness and surprise. As time passed and Y/n’s smile grew bigger, spreading from her to everyone else in the tower like a virus, it got easier to cover for the couple.

Peter dipped into a secluded area and spoke to the through the system. “Everything alright over there kid” Tony called out to him from across the ship, arching his eyebrow once the kid finally emerged after an hour.

Peter nodded quickly, “y-yeah Mr.Stark. I just um, I.” He failed to come up with any kind of excuse, interrupted by Thor who had looked over his shoulder.

“Was it a lady,” Thor began but quickly stopped when he saw the people on screen. He smiled brightly at the scene on the screen, which only drew more attention to them.

“Dance with me please,” Y/n begged as she tried to pull her lover off of the couch.

“Why should I,” Loki smirked mischievously, gently urging her back onto the couch. Y/n gave in and straddled his lap, biting her lower lip softly. She ran her fingers through his curls, twirling the black curls around her fingers, while a content smile rested on her face.

“Because you love me so much.” She leaned down and kissed his lips tenderly, pressing her body against his. “And it’d make me very happy,” she whispered, looking into his eyes with a small pout on her lips.

Loki smiled softly and stood up, holding her in his arms. “I can never say no to you my darling, especially when it comes to your happiness.”

“Relax Tony, he’s probably just checking on his little girlfriend Y/n,” Rhodey joked, trying to calm his friend down who was becoming antsier by the minute.

“Not helping,” Tony mumbled before getting up and walking across the hanger. “Hand it over, kid,” Tony sighed, holding his hand out to Peter. He couldn’t help but let the curiosity take over. Peter and Thor had been staring at the screen for nearly fifteen minutes while smiling like idiots. Peter reluctantly handed the tablet over, his eyes begging Tony not to freak out as his smile faded almost instantly. Tony couldn’t believe his eyes, it had to be fake. There was no way. Y/n and Loki?

“What could possibly be that bad,” Steve asked as he walked over to the furious yet shocked man. He peered over at the tablet and had almost the same exact reaction. His eyebrows knitted together as he tried to keep his composure. “Give me strength,” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the hanger.

“You are more beautiful than anything I’ve ever laid my eyes upon,” Loki smiled, admiring Y/n swaying in his arms. The sound of old love songs filled the air, taking up whatever space in the tower that they weren’t occupying. “I love you.”

Y/n smiled and ran her hand along his now blue skin, marveling in the feel of his cold skin beneath her touch. “I love you too. And I guess you haven’t seen yourself. You’re beyond handsome,” she looked up into his red eyes. “Both in your Asgardian form and your Jotun form, the only reason I prefer your Asgardian form more is cause it’s warmer.” Loki chuckled and pulled her closer, swaying to the beat. “Don’t change,” Y/n protested softly before the soft green glow expanded. Her voice was a soft whisper, barely making it past his ears. “I like knowing you feel comfortable enough to be like this.”

Loki smiled bashfully, “Darling, you are too good to me. I would love nothing more than to take you away from here, anywhere you want. I’d take away all your worries and stresses. All I can do is attempt to make you feel as special as you make me feel.”

“You do that now Loki,” Y/n coaxed him. “You’re my everything and more, my King.” She stood on her tiptoes and poured everything else she wanted to say into a kiss. The contrasting temperatures of their lips urged her loving touch on further, pushing it towards desperation.

Loki kissed back hungrily, nibbling on her bottom lip. The kiss wasn’t enough, wasn’t close enough, didn’t show enough love they held towards each other. Their hand explored each other’s bodies, grabbing and pulling gently to close the nonexistent space, pressing against one another. The music and world around them had drowned out into merely nothing, leaving the pair alone in their own little world.

Her legs bumped against the back of his bed as Loki guided her, never fully breaking the kiss. There was so much passion in the way they touched each other. Holding onto one another as if it were the last time they’d have a chance to. Breathlessly kissing each other, their moans barely making it past the other’s lips. His frigid fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps on her sides and the back of her thighs.

“Come on out Reindeer Games, we need to have a talk,” Tony yelled as he marched out of the elevator and into the living room.

“Y/n,” Steve and Bruce called at the same time, glancing at each other for a second before refocusing.

“Guys please don’t freak out, ” Peter attempted to plea, running a little to catch up with Tony who was ahead of the group.

“Not now kid,” Tony cut him off. The whole team had found out on the way back to the tower after Tony did. Needless to say, none of them were really happy about the situation, except for Peter and Thor- two nerds who just so happened to ship Y/n and Loki as if their life depended on it.

“Guess the team is back,” Y/n sighed, placing a small kiss on Loki’s cheek before he changed his form. “Maybe we should just tell them already. I don’t want to hide you anymore.” She looked over her shoulder at him as she tidied herself.

Loki smiled lovingly at her words, “well if you truly wish to do so, I suppose we can. Though I’m almost positive we won’t receive their loving approval or blessings.” His words were sprinkled with a cynicism that covered his hurt. No matter how much he claimed he could care less about their approval, she could always see the side of him that did. He wanted to fit in, to be completely a part of her life with his past hanging over him.

“Maybe we should wait for a better time. And don’t worry Thor and Peter will probably convince them over time,” Y/n giggled. “I love you, my King. I don’t care what they have to say about that, it won’t change how I feel.”

The couple walked out of his room in turns, into the living room where a gloom hung around the room. Everyone either had a displeased or an anxious expression pressed over their face. The mood lightened for a split second when Y/n and Peter hugged each other, followed by her and Thor hugging.

“How long has this been going on,” Bruce cut in, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Y/n gave him a blank stare and opened her mouth to respond before he quickly clarified. “How long have you and Loki been... Whatever you two are.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed over as she looked between Loki and Bruce, and onto the rest of the team. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with us Y/n,” Natasha spoke, crossing her arms over her chest.

Y/n sighed and looked at Loki for a sense of comfort. “For almost a year now.”

“Ten months and twenty days to be exact,” Loki grinned mischievously making Y/n roll her eyes. She quickly shit him a look telling him now was probably not the best time to be his usual cheeky self even if she still found it adorable.

Despite what she would’ve thought, Steve seemed to be the most upset about the news. Then again Tony could still be processing everything. Y/n took the moment to walk over to Loki’s side, lacing her fingers with his. A gentle smile crossed his face as he pulled her hand to his lips, taking the time to kiss each of her knuckles despite being in front of the others. A blush involuntarily appeared on her cheeks along with her lips curving into a bashful yet tender smile. Loki acted as her comfort blanket, steering her attention away from the heavy atmosphere.

“Perhaps we should all leave the situation as it is. It’s evident they both have strong feelings for each other. I like to believe he truly makes her happy,” Thor looked away from the others and at the couple drifting into their own world once again. “And that is the happiest I’ve seen my brother ever.”

“He does,” Y/n chimed in, breaking her eye contact with Loki. “I know how most of you feel about him, but he’s always had my best interests in hand.” She looked at Loki and playfully nudged him, “well almost always.”

“If I may interject, with or without your blessings I will continue to love every inch of her more than I can fathom.” Loki opened his mouth to continue but was cut off by Clint walking in, a bagel in hand.

“Oh my gosh! You’re in love with him?! That guy?!” He sighed and shook his head, taking another bite from his bagel. “You could do so much better than that greasy weasel.”

“Yeah, I doubt that. He’s my greasy weasley King,” Y/n chuckled, leaning upwards to kiss Loki’s jaw. He squeezed her hand gently as an annoyed sigh fell from his lips.

“Now that the cats out of the bag, can we take time to look at their cute matching outfits,” Peter smiled awkwardly, trying to ease the situation.

“Thanks, but probably not helping Pete,” Y/n said softly as she smiled uncontrollably. Out of the corner of her eye could make out Thor giving them an approving smile that warmed her heart.

Slowly the air in the room was becoming lighter, more comfortable for everyone despite the still apparent disbelief many of them had.

“I plan on staying by his side until he learns to have normal conversations and relationships with the people on Earth, mostly you guys. Maybe even a little longer after that,” Y/n admitted with a newfound confidence. “There’s so much more to him than the man you fought against years ago and I hope we can get you to see that. And I’m gonna stop now before I start rambling.”

Loki’s ocean eyes focused on her, taking in the features he’s admired since the moment he laid eyes on her as if it were the first time all over again. She had his entire heart along with the rest of him. He was hers for as long as she’d have him and vice-versa.

“Get a room,” Tony groaned, sliding his hands down his face like the dramatic toddler he tended to act like. “Actually don’t,” he stopped his hands halfway down his face, realizing what that could imply. “Listen, kid,” he sighed as he moved his hands, one rubbing his temple while the other rested on his hips. “I.. God I can’t believe I’m about to say this.” He had everyone’s undivided attention, all of them hanging onto his words as curiosity ate at them. “If Reindeer Games really makes you that happy, then you have my blessings or whatever.” He looked up at Y/n to see her beaming from ear to ear, making him smile proudly. “Hopefully that goes for everyone in the room as well,” he added, earning hesitant nods from the others.

“Just don’t make the mistake of hurting her,” Bruce attempted to say menacingly, cracking a smile as soon as Y/n raised an eyebrow. Everyone in the room could already predict what she would tell Bruce- something along the lines of Loki would have to worry about her more than he’d worry about what they’d do. So instead she stayed quiet.

“Outside of the bedroom, I would never,” Loki smirked, chuckling quietly as Y/n nudged him.

“And his hourly limit of being polite in front of others must be up,” Y/n quickly spoke as she turned him around to face the hall. “We would love to stay and chat, but I think we’ve pushed it enough for the next couple of hours. Bye guys!” All of her words tumbled nervously out of her mouth causing a few to merge together. She pushed Loki in front of her, urging him in the direction of his room.

“Y/n you better not give him my pants to wear again,” Tony called after them, laughter and a hint of anger in his voice.

“If it makes you feel better Mr.Stark he wasn’t wearing them for very long,” Y/n yelled before she could stop herself. Loki’s loud laughter only made her even more embarrassed about her slip up. “Shut up weasel,” she giggled, closing the door behind them.

“What do you mean you already have a ship name for them,” Wanda spoke as she walked past Loki’s room with Peter. “How long have you known about them?”

“Yeah, Thor was the one who came up with it,” Peter chipped, avoiding answering her second question. “I think they’re gonna last a long time.”

“What do you think witch?” Y/n laughed, rolling onto her belly so she could face him.

“Hey,” Loki said offendedly. “We’ve been over this I’m not a witch or a wizard.” He shook his head as Y/n playfully rolled her eyes and mumbled ‘lame’. “But,” he reached over and pushed a loose strand of hair out her face. His lips curved up into a lazy smile as his eyes searched her’s, “I’d say he’s right.”

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki friggason #loki laufeyson #loki (marvel) #loki fic #loki fluff #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki smut #marvel #marvel x reader #loki marvel #marvel x y/n #requested #writing #fluff #please leave feedback #smut #loki of asgard #loki imagine #loki oneshot #loki of jotunheim #loki odinson #marvel x you #marvel imagine #marvel loki #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction

[flatstarcarcosa]

danger & dread (pt. 2)

summary: The most important thing in Van’s life is control, and having it. When their life starts falling apart, they and Slade both have to deal with the fact that emotional intimacy is a vastly different beast than psychical intimacy. Slade has to decide if he’s planning for a fling, or something else. Bill remains dubious of his intentions. word count: 5521, split into 3 parts warnings: abuse, violence, alcohol, smoking,

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

   Slade lets go of Van's face, sliding his hand around to the back of their head and pulling them to him. They rest their forehead against his chest as the dam finally gives way, and uncontrollable sobs wash over them in waves. It's an awkward embrace; the two of them touching yet still maintaining distance between them. Worse still when he thinks about the fact that the two of them had no problems embracing and being close while having sex, but a comfortable hug amid emotional vulnerability seems to have them both stumped.     “All right,” he says, guiding Van over to the table and pulling away from them to position a chair. “You're going to sit down. I'm going to pour you a drink, and while you're drinking I'm going to pack a few days worth of things.”     “What?” Van blinks as they collapse into the chair, wiping at their eyes. “No, I need to...if anything is here she's gonna destroy it.”    “How many keys are there for this house?” he asks, putting a hand on his hip. Rufus slinks out from under the table, pawing at Van's legs and whining still.     “Two,” they say, reaching down to give the dog attention.     “Where are they?”    “One's on my keyring, the other is on the hook.” Van's voice is light, almost airy, and absolutely soaked with exhaustion.     “Great,” Slade says, turning. “Your mother gets home tomorrow, she can't get in the house because she has no keys. One problem solved.” 

    “She'll go berserk,” Van mutters. The fear lacing their voice burns through Slade like a match to a fuse. He needs to get Van packed and out of this house not only for them, but for himself as well.     “Let her,” he says coldly. “Being pissed off isn't going to get her inside any quicker. I know you have rum around here somewhere, where is it?”     “I had to hide it from her,” Van says. They pause for a moment, trying to work through the fog in their brain and remember where they'd stashed the booze.     Then they start laughing, still wiping tears from their face. Slade blinks.     “And?” he asks.     “It's in the lockbox under my cabinet,” they say, “with my vibrators.”     Slade blinks, then lets out a raw bark of a laugh. “Jesus Christ.”     He ends up having to break the lock on the box when Van can't remember their combination. A broken lock is easier to deal with than them breaking down again over something so simple. He tosses a handful of ice into an 8 ounce glass, and fills it with as much rum as will fit.     “Sit, drink,” he says, setting it in front of them. Van pulls out another cigarette and lights it with shaking hands. Rufus runs between the kitchen and Van's room, wanting to both be with his human, and his human's human. He yips as he watches Slade toss items into a suitcase. Slade pauses, standing up and locating Rufus' favorite toy. He squeaks it at him, getting the dog's attention, and then puts it in the suitcase on top of Van's laptop.     “You're coming too,” he says. Rufus snorts and bounds back into the kitchen, seemingly satisfied that he's not going to be left alone in the dark again. Slade zips the suitcase and scans the room, looking for anything that be immediately important. A spot of green wrapped up in the black sheets on the bed catches his eye, and he untangles the mess to find Van's favorite toy: a stuffed teddy bear wearing a frog costume.     22 years old, in his mind, is too old to still be sleeping with stuffed animals. Then again, he's probably the last person to making judgment calls about anyone's idiosyncrasies. He tucks the bear under his arm and drags the suitcase behind him.     “Does this door lock from the outside?” he asks. He knows it doesn't, but he wants to make sure he keeps engaging Van rather than letting them chase the rabbit in their own head.     “No,” they say. The glass of rum is half empty. “I bought a new knob with a lock last week. Didn't...get around to doing it, though.” Slade sets the suitcase next to them, and drops the bear in their lap.     “Where's the knob?”     “Trunk.”     It ends up taking fifteen minutes for Slade to replace the knob on Van's bedroom door. In the end he settled for putting a few of the screws in with a dime and his fingers when he couldn't locate a screwdriver, and the inability to remember where one was was enough to make Van break down again. He stands back up and thumps on the door a few times, pulling on the handle and pushing his weight against it.     The wood gives a little, but doesn't break and most importantly, the lock doesn't give way. It wouldn't keep him out if he was really trying, but he's content that it will keep out a drunk, enraged woman.     Van's emptied their drink and smoked two more cigarettes in the short time he was playing handyman, and they're now crunching on the rum-soaked ice cubes in the bottom of the glass. Rufus lies on the floor between their feet, ears perked up and eyes watching every move Slade makes.     Good dog, he thinks.     “Come on,” he says, ruffling Van's hair and grabbing the suitcase.     “I didn't call the hotel,” they say, the words coming out as a defeated whine.     “You're not going to a hotel, little one,” he says. “I have a whole condo, remember?”     “Mm, but I...okay.” Van rubs at their eyes, the combination of exhaustion and rum making them completely pliable and unable to argue. It's exactly what Slade was aiming for. He dares to lean down and kiss the top of their head before putting the leash on the dog and leading him out to his truck. He gets Rufus settled and Van's suitcase tucked on the back seat, leaving the engine on to run the A/C and get the cab cooled off. Van's resting their head on the table when he comes back through, that damn bear snuggled into the crook of their neck. Slade scoops them into his arms with ease, hitting the light switch on the way out. He plops Van in the passenger seat and steps back to the door long enough to lock it.    Van sleeps the whole ride across town and across the bridge to Slade's condo complex. They're still out like a light after he totes them up the stairs, into the elevator and down the hall to his place. They mumble something incoherent as he lays them down on his bed, and stop when Rufus jumps up and places himself at their side. Slade unhooks his leash and pats the dog on the head.     “Good boy,” he says. He shuts off the light and leaves the door cracked half an inch, and is wholly unsurprised when he enters his living room and finds Bill casually sipping a cup of tea on his sofa.    “How's your little jail bird, then?” he asks. Slade sighs, flopping into a chair.     “I don't get it,” he says, “they weren't this upset when their association with me got them kidnapped over the summer. When I got to them and got them out, they were just angry. Angry I can deal with. This is...something else.”     Bill is silent for a moment as Slade stares blankly at the ceiling.     “If I didn't know better, I'd say you actually care for them,” he says. “Deeply, even.”     “Oh not now, Bill,” Slade groans. “Save your psycho-babble bullshit for tomorrow, all right? I need you to head back to Van's place with me.”     “Why, pray tell, am I needed there?” Bill asks.     “I need to get their car over here, and I can't drive two vehicles at once,” Slade says. Bill blinks.     “Surely their mother isn't going to go after their car,” he says. “She bought the damned thing in the first place.”     “Yeah, and a week ago I wouldn't have thought Van was going to end up in jail on domestic battery charges despite being the one to get beat,” Slade snaps. “We're all learning things today. Can you just get in the fucking truck, please?”     “Well, since you're saying please,” Bill says. He brings his empty tea cup into the kitchen, and makes a point to stay there and wash it. “I want you to think very carefully about what you're going to do next, Slade.”     “What?” Slade asks.     “Do you want to help Van for the sake of helping them, or do you want to help them because you're hoping to get something out of it in the future?” Bill sets the cup in the drying rack and turns around, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the counter. “I won't stand by and watch you manipulate and bully another lonely and abused kid, Slade. I won't do it. We all have to draw a line somewhere, and I'm drawing mine right now.”     Slade seems to deflate at this, shoulders sagging and his head dropping. He massages at his temple, closing his eye and giving a slow exhale through his nose.     “Bill,” he says, “I swear, for once in my life, I haven't thought that far ahead. I haven't planned anything past 'get Van's car here, go to sleep'. Whenever Van wants to talk about what they're going to do, I will help them with whatever it is that they want, whether it involves me or not. All right?”     There's a long moment of measured silence. Long enough that Slade begins to think Bill is going to disagree.     “All right.” Bill says finally as he pushes away from the counter. “I believe you're being honest now, but if that changes...I won't go through this again with you.”    “You won't have to,” Slade says. “I give you my word, Bill.”

#van.fic #ship: wilson & wilson at large #arc: fun & sun #i wont spam the self ship tags w/ all three parts but i will go back to link 'em together #abuse tw #alcohol tw #smoking tw

[dearlinong]

‘pretend’ ; bi wenjun

[is this where we request?? hEk idk,, but hi author i love your works and they make me uwu and my heart flutters everytime i read them!! but can i ask for a bi wenjun au?? where he is like your older brother’s bestfriend and he treats you like a sister, but you have feelings for him and he does but he doesnt wanna tell you. thank you !!]

(a/n: i’m currently dying bc of the gif help me pls HI GUYS! how have you all been? so when i first saw this request i was like BITVH YES bc we are lacking wenjun scenarios and i am very happy that i can contribute to the growth of the wenjun scenarios. anyway thank you anon for the kind words i love ü <3. i hope you guys like it!!)

genre: fluffz

requested: YEESS isecretlywantyalltorequestmorewenjunscenarios

the bi’s and the ding’s have been family friends for as long as you can remember

i laughed for a good 1 min bc of this lol i just sounds so weird saying ’bi’s and ding’s’

anYWAYS back 2 d story

as i mentioned, your families have been friends since like the jin dynasty or whatever, which means you really have strong bonds with them

one bond in particular was with your brother zeren and his best friend wenjun

the two are inseparable!

they’re basically brothers now

which technically makes you wenjun’s ‘sister’ too

if you take a look at your life you can say that wenjun has saved your ass A LOT of times

like that one time when you went to a party where this one dude tried hitting on you but then wenjun appeared and said that he was your boyfriend and he basically saved the day (or night)

that was the moment when you realized that you just don’t want him to be your pretend boyfriend, but your actual real life boyfriend, but you were also so afraid that if he knew it would be awkward for the both of you

so you just kept this little secret to yourself

“you owe me one” then he gave you his heart warming smile

you didn’t really know when that ‘you owe me one’ time will come because he literally has a solution to every problem he encounters

until one day when he knocked on your house door, you were pretty shocked to see him wearing a suit and ngl he looked freaking hot with it

“i need your help” he said while looking worried and shit

“wenjun what’s going on?”

“i’ll tell you later, but right now you have to get your prom gown, decent shoes and your make-up, don’t worry i already told auntie and zeren that you’ll be with me for the whole day, and can you please be down in two minutes.”

so you rushed upstairs and got everything that he asked you to bring then went back down and got in the car

“now can you tell me what’s going on”

“you remember my cousin meili right? well it’s her wedding today and her crazy friends are there, and they’re probably gonna flirt with me AGAIN so can you be like my pretend girlfriend for the whole day, so that they can just shut up once and for all”

“oh okay, i can do that” you said while smiling

when you finally arrived he waited for you outside the bathroom so that you could get dressed and ready for the wedding

good thing you brought your ‘good make-up pouch’ or else your make-up would’ve been a disaster

you two now went inside the venue and talked to some of the people you know there

you and wenjun were about to take your seats when suddenly five (5) girls appeared in front of you two

“oh my god wenjun i didn’t know you were invited to the wedding” said one of them

“i’m her cousin, why wouldn’t she invite me?”

AFNAFIJFJNG

WENJUN SNAPPED

“haHAhHAHahAh you’RE s0 fuNNy wenJUN *pls marry me*”

“this is a verbal conversation”

“weLL GTG BYE”

after they went away you can’t help but burst into laughter

they’re just THAT crazy over wenjun

who clearly isn’t interested in them

plus they didn’t even acknowledge you existence, which really means that they were all head over heals for wenjun

fast forward to the reception

you went and sat down with wenjun along with mr & mrs bi and his grandparents

while waiting for the newlyweds everyone was chatting with one another

wenjun was talking to one of his cousins while you were playing with his nieces and nephews

after a few minutes you saw that the five girls were going near wenjun again but you couldn’t leave the children behind so you just let him be first

you were so far away from them that you couldn’t really hear what they were talking about

but what you did hear was this

“oh btw i wanna introduce you guys to someone”

then he went to you, told the kids to go back to their parents and then asked you to come with him

“guys i want you to meet y/n, she’s my girlfriend. y/n they’re meili’s friends”

“it’s so nice to meet you all” you said while doing a fake smile

“g-girlfriend?” one of them said

“ohh, uhhh, you’re so luck to have him as a boyfriend” one said with dismay

“well, i think we better get going, see you later”

you couldn’t explain how happy wenjun was right now

“HUAHDNFFDJF THEY’RE FINAFUCKINGLY GONE” he said screaming while rocking your whole body

you couldn’t help but laugh because of his cute actions

fast forward again to when the reception is about to end

you were already getting ready to go home and write everything that happened today on your journal buT OHO THE DAY AIN’T OVER YET

you overheard meili and her friends’ conversation about wenjun and you

“bitch you didn’t even tell us that wenjun already has a girlfriend”

“what girlfriend? ohh you mean y/n? she’s not his girlfriend, she’s just a family friend of ours”

YOU SAW THE GIRLS’ FACES LIGHT UP AND SHIT

so they hurried and walked toward your table but what you didn’t know is that wenjun also heard the conversation

he had an idea on how to get the girls to go away again

but he has to get every last ounce of his dignity to do this

he quickly pecked your lips, held your hand and dragged you out of the venue and into the garden

BOI LEMME TELL YOU

YOU WERE RED AS HELL

you two sat on the bench overlooking the beautiful sunset which is really romantic

you can say that the air was thick with awkwardness

he then broke the ice when he started apologizing to you

“i’m sorry for doing that to you, i j-just got carried away” he said while rubbing the back of his neck

“carried away?” you said in confusion

“don’t you get it, i like you, i have already for quite some time now. i thought it was pretty obvious, but i get it now, it’s pretty obvious that you don’t like me back, excuse me” he then stood up and walked away

‘he didn’t even listen to my side’ you thought to yourself

so you ran to him, tapped him on the shoulder and grabbed his face so that you can kiss him again

the kiss was full of love

you can feel all the years from hiding your own feelings from him pour out into one big kiss

he then pulls away and gives you a little kiss on the cheek

“so am i still your pretend girlfriend because the day hasn’t ended yet” you jokingly said which earned you another peck on the lips

“hey lovebirds come here” one of wenjun’s cousin yelled

he then showed you a picture he took while you were kissing in front of the sunset

“OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A MASTERPIECE” you said while smacking wenjun’s poor arm

“i’m making this my twitter header” he said while smiling at you

well

you didn’t expect that this will all happen today

to not just be called his pretend girlfriend, but his real actual girlfriend

#bi wenjun #wenjun #bi wenjun scenarios #bi wenjun bullet point #bi wenjun imagines #idol producer #idol producer scenarios #idol #idol producer imagines

[kirbyvacuumsxyx-blog]

KIRBY DYSON VACUUM REVIEW

For years the Kirby vacuum has been king of the vacuum cleaners. As far as cleaning power and durability goes, they could not be beaten. But now there is a new kid in town...the Dyson vacuum. Dysons have only been around for a few years, but they made a big splash and lots of people have been buying them. Are they as good as all the hype? Let's discuss it now.

Hi, my name is Dustin Chaffin, General Manager of Great-Vacs. We have sold over 10,000 vacuum cleaners online and we know vacuums. I get tons of emails asking, "Which is better: the Kirby or the Dyson?" I am excited to write this guide and answer this question once and for all. I feel qualified to write this article because unlike most shops, we sell both the Kirby and the Dyson vacuum and can give an honest review.

I have hesitated to write this guide because this is such an emotional subject. People LOVE their Kirby or LOVE their Dyson and it can be very emotional. So I will probably get some hate mail, but if I can help you pick the best vacuum, it will be worth it. Because it's such an emotional subject, I am going to perform most tests that I have never done before. I am going to try and keep my comments to a minimum and just present the facts. In the end there will be a winner and a loser, but we will know once and for all who is the King.

This guide was so detailed that it turned out to be very long. So if you don't want to go over all the details (there is tons of good information though), scroll to the bottom and read my Conclusion where I sum up all the details.

So let's get right to it. I'm going to write the article as if I were reading a diary to you.

Most Dyson owners own a DCO7 or older, so we went one higher and used the high end Dyson DC14 Animal that was about 1 year old. For our Kirby Test we used a 2004 Kirby Diamond (3 years old).

TEST #1 - BEST VACUUM NOT TO CLOG

Clogs are caused by small suction tubes and corners. So let's get right to it and take some pictures of the Kirby suction tubes and the Dyson tubes. Below is a picture of a Dyson tube next to a Kirby tube.

As you can see from the pictures, the Kirby suction tube is almost twice the size as the Dyson one. The Dyson one also has a sharp corner in some of its tubing, which clogs easier and loses suction.

Fact - The very first used Dyson we received as a trade in was clogged. Fact - If you read other reviews on the internet, they say people have had a problem with the Dyson clogging with long pet hair. Fact - There is no vacuum that is impossible to clog. However, we have seen thousands of Kirbys and from normal vacuuming conditions have never seen a Kirby clog. For example, I have seen a Kirby clogged with a tooth brush, a rope, and a shirt. In other words, under normal vacuum conditions I have never seen a Kirby clog. The Dyson that came in clogged just had dirt and pet hair in it.

When was the last time you saw a Dyson commercial where they said "Guaranteed not to clog?" Also on the Dyson, the suction tubes are made to be taken off. If it never clogs, why are they made to be taken apart?

Winner of the Test #1 Best Vacuum Not to Clog - KIRBY VACUUM

TEST #2 - MOST AIRFLOW AND VACUUM POWER

This is one of the most important tests--after all, no matter how cool a vacuum looks, we buy a vacuum to pick up the dirt. Suction power is very important. Isn't that the reason we buy a vacuum, to vacuum up all the dirt?

Kirby Motor Size = 7 amps Dyson Motor Size = 12 amps

For this test, we are going to use an Airflow Indicator meter tool made by Baird. This tool is designed to test power and airflow (see picture below).

On the tool is the saying "You have to move the air in order to move the dirt." This tool is a tube with a ball attached to a spring. It has a rating of 0 to 10. You hook it up to a vacuum, then turn on the vacuum to test vacuum power and airflow. The higher the suction, the further up the scale the the meter will read. 0 is really bad and 10 is amazing suction. So we will hook up the hose to the Kirby vacuum and we will test it. We will also test it on the hose for a Dyson vacuum. For our first test, we will test the power by hooking it up to the hose. Each hose it tested at the same length away from the vacuum.

After we tested the Dyson, the Suction Meter read =  1 out of 10 (see picture)

After we tested the Kirby, the Suction Meter read =  7 out of 10 (see picture)

Now we are going to test the power hooked up to the vacuum itself. You are about to learn a new principle here. It's a fact that the longer the hose the more suction you lose. That's why uprights are usually more powerful than canisters and why central vacuums in huge homes (a 100 feet of wall tubing to get to the central vacuum) can be the weakest vacuums of all.

Hooked up to the vacuum on the Dyson, the Power Meter read =  2.8 out of 10 (see picture)

On the Kirby, it read =  10 out of 10 (see picture)

Fact - The motor size in amps does not mean a vacuum is more powerful. Fact - The Kirby had over 3 times the power and airflow as the Dyson when testing it with the airflow meter.

The winner of Test #2 The Most Airflow and Vacuum Power - KIRBY VACUUM

TEST #3 - MOST SUCTION WHEN FULL OF DIRT

The other Dyson promise is that it is "Guaranteed not to lose airflow as the vacuum fills up with dirt." There "not clogging" guarantee bombed, so let's test out this guarantee.

Dyson - So we grabbed 3 Dysons. One was our tester Dyson that was cleaned and had no dirt in it, one was 1/3 full of dirt, and one was three quarters full of dirt.

On the Power Meter, they all pulled the same = 2.8

Kirby - We grabbed a full Kirby bag and put it inside our Kirby. We tested it with the full bag and the Power Meter read a 10 out of 10 (the meter only goes to 10). So then with the full bag still in it, I hooked up the 9 foot hose to the vacuum and tested it. The Power Meter read = a 5.9. So, we then tried it with the hose attached and an empty bag. The Kirby had a 7.0 and with a full bag it read a 5.9.

Fact - James Dyson is correct--the Dyson did not lose power as it filled with dirt. Fact - As a vacuum bag fills up, airflow and power do decrease. Fact - Even with a full bag, the Kirby had over DOUBLE the airflow and power as the Dyson as measured by our Air Flow Meter. Fact - Dyson claims to be the first vacuum not to lose suction as it fills with dirt. This is not true. I can personally think of 5 other vacuums that don't lose suction. The Rainbow vacuum for example uses water to filter and does not lose suction. The Rainbow has been around for nearly a century.

Winner of Test #3  Most Suction When Full of Dirt - KIRBY VACUUM

TEST #4 - VACUUMS UP BETTER

This is really starting to get fun. This is the most important test. Which vacuum actually vacuums up the most dirt. What I did here was I went next door to the Carpet Store and they were nice enough to give me a large piece of brand new carpet (so our results would not be tainted). I then took a piece of tape and marked off the carpet. On the left side of the tape we are going to vacuum with the Dyson and on the right side of the tape we are going to vacuum with the Kirby.

Then I took 2 cups, went outside and filled them up with normal dirt and sand--just like what would be tracked into your house. I then measured the 2 cups (see picture) so they had the exact amount of dirt in them - 1 pound and .2 of one ounce in each cup. I then poured the dirt onto each side of the carpet and worked it into the carpet with my fingers.

I weighed the dirt that is now in the carpet and now I am going to weigh the dirt that comes out of the carpet. Now the Kirby is not bagless, so we have to use tester filter pads to show the dirt that is picked up. I am afraid this test was a little harder on the Kirby because every time I changed the pads (lots of times) dust would escape from the tester. To be fair, after I put the Kirby tester on the Kirby, I tested the power again with the hose. With the tester on, it read a 6.5 on the airflow meter, while it had read a 7 when the bag was on (bag has more surface area for air to push through). So because of those 2 things, the Kirby was at a small disadvantage. I knew that we were not going to get up all the dirt because in each vacuum a small part of it would stick to the dirt chamber and fans, etc., in each of the 2 vacuums. So this was a very fair test. Before I started the test, I decided that I would take the vacuum that pulled the most dirt up and vacuum another 50 strokes in the vacuum's area that pulled the least dirt.

Dyson Results - We put the dirt down and vacuumed 50 strokes on its side. We put 1 lb of dirt down and were able to pick up 6.5 oz of dirt from the Dyson vacuum, or 40% of the dirt was picked up.

Kirby Results - We put the dirt down and vacuumed 50 strokes on its side. We put 1 lb of dirt down and (after subtracting the dirt meter filter pads weight) were able to pick up 12.1 oz of dirt from the Kirby, or 75% of the dirt was picked up.

Then, since the Dyson picked up the least amount of dirt and it was the loser, we vacuumed in the Dyson's area with the Kirby. The picture below shows how much dirt and sand that we pulled out of the Dyson's side with the Kirby. I was able to pull out 44 pads of dirt that the Dyson left behind. In fact, I was still pulling out dirt when I ran out of pads (see picture). I wish you could have seen this in person. I had no idea that the Kirby would pick up that much extra dirt left behind by the Dyson. These pads where not just dusty, but jam packed full of dirt and sand (see picture). Looking at the dirt sample pulled from each vacuum, the Dyson really did not pick up much sand at all.

Fact - Sand ruins carpet. When it gets down deep into the carpet, its sharp jagged edges cut the carpet fibers when people walk on your carpet. That's what causes "trails" in your carpet. High traffic areas get sand tracked on them from people coming in from outside, then if the vacuum does not have the power to pick up the sand, the brushroll grinds it deep in the carpet. Then when people walk on the carpet, it cuts the carpet fibers. The next time you vacuum, the carpet fiber gets vacuumed up. Pretty soon the "high traffic" area has less carpet fibers and starts lying down, the "trail" appears, and you have to buy new carpet. If you have a vacuum that can pick up the sand and a deep cleaner, you can extend your carpet by years and save thousands of dollars.

Winner of Test #4 Vacuums Up Better - KIRBY VACUUMS

TEST #5 - DURABILITY

The Kirby is made of a light weight metal and is one of the most durable vacuums made. In fact, Kirby home care systems are rated #1 in reliability by a popular consumer products magazine. We have noticed an average life span of 25 years for the Kirby vacuum.

The Dyson vacuum is made from a low-grade plastic. Just because a vacuum is made from plastic does not necessarily mean that it is not durable. A perfect example of this is the Aerus Vacuum (used to be Electrolux). When the Electrolux salesman was showing you the vacuum, they used to lay down the vacuum and jump on it with all their weight! Of course, they did not break. The Dyson is so new that we don't have a durability time to work with at this time.

I also did the following test, but the results were inconclusive because the Hydraulic Press only measured in increments of 500 lbs.

With this test, I tested the breaking point of both Kirby and Dyson heads. We have a Hydraulic Press with a stress gauge that tells you how much pressure something endures before it breaks. The problem with it is that it only gauges it in 500 lb. increments.

So, I performed the test on the Dyson first. When I was pumping down the press with the hand handle,there was hardly any resistance. It was like a hot knife through butter. The plastic started bending and then it broke through. The problem (and the reason I don't like this test) was it did not even register on the gauge. It could have broken at 100 lbs of pressure or 499 lbs of pressure.

Then I performed the test on the Kirby. Again, its metal started bending without even registering on the gauge (I wish I had a more accurate gauge). However, it then started registering and right before it broke it got to about 1000 lbs!

Because of the gauge problem with the above test I am not going to count it in this contest to determine the winner.

Fact - When packing the Kirby Vacuum for shipping, we wrap it in a half an inch of bubble wrap with no breakage. Fact - When packing the Dyson Vacuum for shipping, to avoid breakage we have to pack it in 3 inches of bubble wrap. Because of this fact, we have to use an extra large box to hold the Dyson and all the extra bubble they require. Because ground shipping is now based on dimensional weights (box size vs. actual weight), the Dyson costs more than its heavier counterpart, the Kirby, to ship. Common parts to break in shipping on the Dyson are the head, the handle, and the cord wraps.

So, we can determine our winner based upon our experience with shipping, Consumer Reports, and the Kirby's long life span.

Winner of Test #5 Reliability - KIRBY VACUUM

TEST #6 - WEIGHT & EASE OF VACUUMING

For the first test on this one I got out our shipping scales and weighed each vacuum. The Kirby weighed 23 lbs, 14 oz. and the Dyson weighed 18 lbs, 10 oz. So the Kirby weighed about 5 lbs more than the Dyson. The Kirby has a carrying handle and the Dyson did not. The carrying handle did make a difference regarding ease of moving the vacuum around. The second test was ease of vacuuming. Both seemed easy to vacuum with, but the Kirby seemed better because of its self-propelled transmission. Unlike other self-propelled vacuums, it was very smooth and I could vacuum with one finger. Most people think the reason Kirby has the self-propelled transmission is because of its weight. That's only partially true. The main reason is the Kirby actually creates a vacuum seal with your carpet, which is then hard to push.

Concerning 'Ease of Vacuuming' we also have to consider how easy it is to use your vacuum's tools. Now the Dyson has on-board tools (very nice) and the Kirby does not. So you have to store your Kirby tools somewhere else (most likely your closet). For Kirby lovers, this is the only complaint I have heard from them. They wish there were an easier way to put on your tools without taking off the power nozzle each time.

So, for this test I timed myself going from vacuum mode to putting on the duster tool (in this example). How long does it take?

The Dyson took 19 seconds for me to go from vacuuming to putting the hose on the on-board duster tool.

The Kirby took me 25 seconds to go from vacuuming, shutting off the vacuum, casually strolling to my pretend closet, grabbing the hose and duster tool, returning to the vacuum, taking off the power nozzle, and putting on the hose and duster tool.

So, accessing the on-board tools was 6 seconds faster on the Dyson than the Kirby.

Regarding the actual ease of vacuuming (could vacuum with one finger), I would say the Kirby was easier. However, including results for carrying weight and use of tools, the Dyson won.

Winner of Test #6 Weight & Ease of Vacuuming - Dyson

TEST #7 - TOOLS AND ACCESSORIES

Using our Dyson DC14, this model comes with 5 tools (3 of which are on-board). Those tools are:

Duster Brush (on-board)

Upholstery tool (on-board)

Crevice tool (on-board)

Floor tool

The Animal Turbo tool (standard air turbine-driven upholstery tool with brushroll)

*Some may come with the Zorb groomer to work the zorb smell good powder into your carpet.

The Kirby has the following standard tools:

The tool caddy (can hang on a wall)

2 extension wands

Crevice tool with scrubber

Floor tool

Air Intake Guard

Portable Shampooer Cap

Massage Cup (sometimes called the pet grooming tool and can be used to remove light bulbs)

Inflator tool

Duster Brush

Upholstery tool

Portable Sprayer (also called hand held shampooer)

Portable Handle

Wall and Ceiling Brush

Suction Control Grip tool

Main Hose

The Kirby also has several additional accessories:

The Kirby carpet shampoo system:  this is an actual shampooer to keep your carpets washed and clean. I really like the Kirby shampoo because it has a chemical kind of like scotch guard in it that protects your carpets from those same stains from coming back.

Floor Care system:  this can be used to clean your hard floor surfaces or if you have hardwood floors it can actually be used to buff wax into your wood floors to make them look new. It can also have a floor tool plate that snaps onto the vacuum itself so you can use your Kirby to vacuum your hardwood floor surfaces.

Turbo Accessory System:  this can be a sander (dust is sucked into the Kirby), Buffer, Scouring (like cleaning tile grout) and Massaging.

Zipp Brush:  powered upholstery tool that runs off of the Kirby's power and airflow. Most people use it on pet hair, couches, stairs and more.

So, including the Tool Caddy, the Kirby has 15 standard tools. The Dyson has 5 standard tools (I am going to call the floor tool and animal brush standard). The Kirby has a carpet shampooer and 3 other accessory kits you can buy, as well. The Dyson had the Zorb kit.

Winner of Test #7 Tools and Accessories - KIRBY VACUUM

TEST #8 - FILTRATION

Here I would also suggest reading my guide "HEPA Filtration - Fact from Myth" as well as "Best Vacuum For You."

The Kirby vacuum can filter as small as .1 of a micron. To be considered a HEPA filter you have to filter at least .3 of one micron.

I could not find anything on the Dyson website or on the Dyson itself as to what its filtration was. However, by doing a google search, people that were selling the washable HEPA filter said it filtered down to .1 of one micron.

So, as far as published 'Filtration,' it is a tie between the two vacuums.

I would also suggest reading my guide "Bags vs Bagless Vacuum Cleaner - Which is best."

I have been a lone voice of warning since the beginning of the 'bagless' craze. Everybody wanted bagless vacuums. My issue with them was when I would get them in used, the vacuum would be covered in dust on the outside, but the HEPA filter would be clean. Doctors were actually recommending bagless vacuums to allergy patients! I felt so bad for those people. The reason that I don't like bagless vacuums is the dirt hits the HEPA filter and looks for the easiest way out. The HEPA filter is hard to get through (tight filtration), so the dirt back-tracks through the system, blows out through the seals in the tubing, and back into the air. That is why I don't like normal bagless vacuums.

Now to Dyson's credit, they have a washable filter located before the dirt goes to the bag chamber (that's good). Then in the bag chamber, most of the heavy dirt falls into the bagless dirt chamber while the rest of the dirt is carried out to hit the last filter. So, most of the dirt never reaches the last filter, but it still has a filter that dirt and air have to push through. That's the good news.

The bad news is that I counted 7 different seals on the Dyson vacuum. I assume there are so many seals so that you can take the vacuum apart if it clogs (I cant think of any other reason). 7 seals is a lot of places for air and dirt to blow out. The other bad news is they are not the tightest seals. The Kirby does have 2 seals outside the bag chamber, but they are very tight.