#not to be like “oh im so burned out I need a vacation... i need yo go to the beach 🫣” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

senanatheskenana · 8 months

Text

The Sinclair Twins With Baby Fever

This contains smut so minors do not engage thank you. Contains graphic depictions of sex/ sexual acts.

(Also i havent written smut in a while so im sorry if its bad lmao)

Bo Sinclair

Bo never thought he'd want kids.

He thought they were sort of like inconveniences from how his parents acted when they were kids.

But that idea slowly began to change after meeting you

For one, it takes two people to make one, and in a ghost town, there isn't an abundance of living women.

And Bo didn't really believe he would be a good parent.

However, it all flipped rather suddenly for Bo.

You had been showing him photos from an old vacation you went on with family and he stumbled across one of you and your niece.

A tiny one-year-old, in cute pink dungarees, all swaddled up in your arms with big blue eyes and one of her chunky hands in her mouth on an exploration.

Bo admitted that it was rather cute and you started to ramble about the times you've looked after family and children.

And it occurs to Bo that while he may not be wonderful with children, you certainly were.

The thought comes along all too suddenly for his liking and before he knows what he's doing, he's imagining you with your baby- his baby.

It makes his chest flutter, the image of your swollen belly and milk-filled chest burning into his eyes.

He tries to give it some serious thought, weighing up the pros and cons of such an important choice.

Bo of course brought it up to you. He wasn't going to just grin and bear the need he was now experiencing.

~~~~~

"Oh my god," you grin up at him. He scowls and huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? I don't see what the big deal is." he's still pouting and you have to admit he looks pretty cute like that, with blushy cheeks.

"Bo, you've got baby fever!" you giggle and him as he huffs again.

Bo throws his arms up in the air and sighs. He knows he isn't going to win that battle. "Look did you want to have a baby or not, sugar?"

You give him a long drawn-out silence, leaving him in anticipation for what he deems to be far too long, however, he doesn't want to push his luck on the situation.

You finally give him a smile and a wink, "Of course I do, Bo." he fights back a smile and slinks closer to you to give you a peck on the cheek but lets out a chuckle when you pull him back again for a proper kiss.

He smirks and practically throws you into the bedroom, not wasting a moment to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. He tugs down his jeans and you both begin to shed clothing as fast as possible. You can hear the clink of your husband's belt hitting the floor over the sound of your loud heartbeat. He finally moves to slot himself between your thighs, grinding against your clothed heat.

Bo hasn't felt this nervous in a long time. Normally, sex is rough and teasing with Bo, but every little touch against him feels like fire and it has him moaning into your chest like a virgin. The image of your swollen belly ingrains itself into his mind again, and he feels himself becoming too needy to pace himself. Before he can fully grasp what he's doing, he's already rutting into you with quick deep thrusts. He doesn't bother pulling out and wasting time on long thrusts, choosing to just chase the pleasure you both want so badly.

Bo loves the way you look under him like this, eyes nearly closed and rolling back with your mouth agape from the breathless moans you're making after every rub of his cock against your g-spot. He can feel you tightening around him, and he honestly can't recall a better feeling than this. He can tell you're going to cum soon with how loud you are and how your hips try to chase his.

Bo slips a hand between you both and plants it on your folds. He'll be damned if he was going to cum this soon without you. You let out a moan that sounds like it was straight out of a porno, and Bo feels it travel like electricity down to his groin. You can feel him twitch deep inside you, kissing against your internal ridges. You're so tight that Bo can barely move without moaning like a bitch.

He comes close to your face, watching your fucked out expression closely. His fingers speed up, deftly finding your clit and circling it like he's begging for you to cum around him. "'Gonna cum, sugar?" his southern drawl drags you out of your fever dream state and you nod up at him, failing to find words anymore. You grip his shoulders and you wrap your thighs around his waist. He laughs at the idea that you're stopping him from pulling out. You cum and he can feel you completely spasm around his cock. Bo knows he can't take another second of that intense pleasure before he's cumming so hard he's seeing coloured patches in his vision, moaning as he stills inside of you. Hot ropes of his cum spurt out into you, making you gasp from the new feeling.

Bo nearly collapses on top of you after, head laying on your comfortable chest while your fingers rake through his wet hair. He can't bring himself to pull out of you just yet, and he's still breathless from finishing inside you for the first time. He can feel your thighs rocking still with the aftershocks of the experience. He kisses your chest lightly and looks up at you.

"I love you, Sugar," he murmurs softly against your skin, "I love you so much."

You don't miss how one of his hands rubs gentle circles into your tummy.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent's biggest problem is his lack of communication. He can't simply speak about how he's feeling most of the time.

If he could, you may have found out about this sooner.

Vincent has always been more tolerant of children than Bo was so he experienced this quite early on but didn't know how to approach you about it.

He was worried that you would think he was weird or that you wouldn't want kids and then leave him.

So for months, he suffered in silence, fighting the urge to paint your insides with himself, and fantasising about what life would be like if you had a baby.

He's touched himself to the thought of you swollen and glowing, and imagining it's you he's coming in before the reality sets in again and he feels disgusted with himself once more.

You've started to notice his hesitance in intimate moments and you finally confront him, asking if he doesn't think you're attractive anymore.

He moves his hand to different parts of the basement, all filled with paintings and sculptures of you. It was a stupid thing to ask, of course, he thought you were gorgeous.

~~~~~

So you finally ask him what the problem was, and why he was suddenly not willing to touch you.

Vincent is of course quiet. He, in all honesty, was trying to hold off sex because he didn't feel he could trust himself to pull out anymore. He was worried that the temptation would be too great and he wouldn't be able to help himself. He's not really sure how he can say that and not come off as a huge pervert.

So he just comes close to you and embraces you momentarily, before placing a hand on your abdomen. It's just barely present but you can feel the touch. Then he takes his hands and makes a cradling motion.

For a moment you're confused. What does he mean by 'baby'? until it clicks in your mind. Did Vincent think you were pregnant? Was that why he was being so careful?

"Vinny, sweetheart, I'm not pregnant you dont need to worry about hurting me or anything-" Before you can finish, Vincent shakes his head and begins to sign.

'I know he looks at you to make sure you're following him, 'I think that's the problem'

Some sort of realisation becomes apparent to you and you ask the question he's been wanting to ask for months.

"Do you... Want a baby?"

He waits a moment and then nods before looking down. He begins signing again but doesn't look up, he doesn't want to see your grossed-out face.

'I was scared to force something on you but I wasn't sure how to say it. I didn't think I could trust my body during sex anymore.'

Your heart swells a little bit at the confession. Had Vincent been beating himself up for wanting to get you pregnant?

"I think I want a baby too, Vince" you giggle when his head shoots up from looking down at the floor. He signs too quickly for you to follow but you can just about catch the words 'Angel' and 'love'.

He stops signing and abruptly picks you up, spinning you before holding you bridal style in his arms. He hasn't said but you have an idea of where he's taking you. Vincent kicks the door to your shared bedroom open and gently places you on the covers. He removes his own clothing- save for his mask- and then patiently removes your own, kissing the skin that is revealed.

Usually, Vincent gets quite needy during these moments, and his touch is feverish. He's painfully hard at this point, but he wants to savour you. He doesn't want to lose himself just yet.

You're the one who removes his mask, taking in his flushed face and pulling him closer for a kiss. He can't begin to describe how much he loves you at this moment. He puts little weight on you as he traps you on the bed between his arms.

You make a noise of surprise when he pulls back from you to lean on his feet. You're about to ask what he's doing but he's already sliding down your body to slot his head between your thighs. He gives the left of a small nip before kissing it again. Your core floods with anticipation when he gazes up at you like that. He waits for you to push his face closer to your folds to make sure you're okay. As soon as you do, he pushes his whole face against you, breathing you in and flattening his large tongue against your pussy. He lets out a raspy moan before he truly begins to lick. You know what's coming and the anticipation makes your thighs shudder around his head.

He looks up through his hair to see you throw your head back in pleasure. He's always loved how you look like this, with his head between your thighs and your hands in his hair. The sight is so hot that he knows he could probably finish from it alone.

Your breath hitches when you feel his hand travel from your hip to your folds. He uses his hand to part them before he gives a few kitten licks to your clit. His own eyes roll back as you spasm, and he continues that motion, fingers sliding into your wet core. He moves his two fingers slow and deep inside you, crooking them upwards halfway through each languid thrust. And just like that he can feel you tightening on his fingers with each lick and movement. Your moans get louder but he continues, spurred on by the look of pleasure you give him.

Your hips rut against his face and he moans against your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking it. Just like that his fingers bring you over the edge, moaning and shaking as you wrap your legs around his face. Vincent removes his fingers and pushes his face into you again, licking up your juice before rising once more to be above you. You still look fucked out and he takes pride it in. You pull him in and kiss him deeply.

Vincent's hands travel down your thighs and stop at your knees. You briefly wonder what he's doing before he pushes them up and pins your legs against your chest. He's never tried this angle before.

But he likes it. A lot.

You can see from his expression that he's enjoying the view and briefly his eyes flicker between you and a sketchbook. You grab his face gently and make him look at you.

"You can draw later. Right now I want you to fuck me, Vincent"

His one good eye widens as if to say 'Yes ma'am' and before you know it, he's slotting himself into you, using his body weight to keep your legs pinned against your chest. Already he's so deep inside you that he's pushing against your sweet spot without trying. Vincent takes a moment to gather himself- he doesn't think he's ever been this deep inside you and suddenly he loves this position even more. He begins to roll his hips against you slowly, teasingly. He knows you want more so he begins to move, throwing a fair amount of his body weight into each deep thrust. Vincent can hear your breathless moan with each slap of his hips against your backside. He leans down on his strong left arm and uses his right to fondle your bouncing chest, making eye contact with you. It's your half-lidded hazy expression that makes his heart hammer in his chest. Vincent mouths the words 'I love you' and 'so pretty' over and over like a chant.

He's sure you can feel every little twitch and pulse of his cock with how tight you are around him. Fuck, he thinks, you feel so good. He's missed your pretty cunt so much and he's certain you've realised by how desperate his movement is becoming- degrading from measured, long, strong thrusts to irregular, quick jabs accompanied by crackly whimpers of pleasure. He's worried that he'll cum first now so he pulls his hand from your chest and pushes it between your folds to play with your clit.

A low, fractured murmur of "G-Gon' cu-um" falls from his open mouth and you're shocked for a moment.

Vincent stills against you and you feel your insides flood with warmth. The feeling along with his fingers still rubbing you tenderly, makes your own orgasm wash over you and he moans again as your pussy sucks him in further. He waits until you both finish before slowly pulling out of you, globs of excess cum seeping out of you. He uses his fingers to scoop the leaking cum up and fingers it back inside of you, humming when he sees that it isn't leaking anymore.

"I love you, Vinny," he looks at you and smiles, placing a pillow under your hips. He comes back to you with a flannel and washes the sweat from you and places a kiss on your forehead. Vincent lays beside you on the bed, placing his head against your chest and running his palm over the soft part of your tummy.

#xreader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher fucker

1K notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 6 months

Text

😜💖 friendship is magic 😌✨ (Chapter Four of The Doll) — slytherin boys x gn! ‘the boy’ (2016)! reader

❕new addition of Regulus Black❕

tws: dolls, obviously; reader referred to as ‘it’ (presumed inanimate); mentions of past child character death(s); mentions of a house fire—implied arson; violence; & murder

based entirely off of the 2016 film ‘the boy’. just slow plot shit this chapter, i’m afraid

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Determined to find the source of the leak, Blaise tromps back out to the hall to find wherever the L/Ns stashed their pole hook to open the attic. Tucked away in a dusty corner is where Blaise finds it, and he carries it back into Y/N’s room with a pleased expression.

This was going to be a piece of cake. If Blaise could find the leak and patch it up, maybe the L/Ns would put in a good word with the courts and shorten their sentences. Or his, anyway.

Slowly raising the pole hook up towards the ring handing from the attic ladder, Blaise missed multiple times, the ring bouncing off of the hook.

“Hey.”

“Holy fucking-” Blaise startles and drops the pole hook, taking a step back. The figure standing in the doorway of Y/N’s room waves awkwardly.

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Regulus? Er- Regulus Black? I’m the grocery boy for the L/Ns.” He trails off, motioning to the milk crate he held against one hip that was practically overflowing with produce and wrapped butcher’s packages.

“Oh! Yes, yeah, sorry. Uh, house just has me on edge is all,” Blaise rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Do you need help with the groceries?”

Regulus’ eyebrows raise and he smiles. “That would be fantastic, actually,” he turns on his heel, already starting down the stairs.

Blaise has to jog to catch up, following the spry boy ahead of him down to the kitchen. Regulus is maybe a year younger than him, but has far too much energy for five in the morning.

“So why are you lot here? The L/Ns aren’t exactly known for their warmth and welcoming-ness. If you’ll excuse my bluntness, they don’t really have a propensity for entertaining guests.”

“They’re on vacation. Uh, we’re here as part of a…community service punishment,” he winces as he skates around the truth.

“Ah, nice,” Regulus seems unruffled as he puts away a carton of eggs. “What are they making you do? House-sitting?”

“Uh, babysitting.”

Regulus hums. “Ah, really? They didn’t take Y/N with them? That’s pretty surprising.”

Blaise startles. “Please tell me you don’t also think it’s…”

“Alive? ‘Course not. But it’s better to just humor them. Mrs. L/N gets awfully upset if you mention anything about it being inanimate, and this job pays too well for me to want to piss off my employers.”

Blaise laughs. “That’s fair. So…was there really an Y/N? Like, an actual one?”

Regulus nods, handing him a stack of cans and motioning towards the cabinet they belonged in. “Mhm. We were never allowed to play with them when we were kids. My older brother always called them freakish. And Mr. L/N only ever described them—the one time I asked, back when I very first started working for them—as odd.”

Blaise pauses halfway through stacking apples in the fruit bowl. “You knew them? Like, you were the same age?”

“They were a year or two older than me, but yeah,” Regulus accepts the mug of coffee Blaise offers with a quiet thanks, sitting down with him at the kitchen table.

“Anyway, story goes that they were playing out in the woods with Brahms—he was their only friend, that I know of—and they got in an argument or something… Mr. Heelshire—that’s Brahms’ dad—found ‘im by the river, skull all smashed up. The police chief wanted to question Y/N, you know, just to cover all the bases, but nobody could find ‘em and then-”

Regulus makes a fwoosh noise, setting down his mug to spread his hands out as if to imitate an dramatic explosion.

“Boom! The L/Ns’ house completely burned down. The only person inside? Y/N L/N.”

Regulus takes a sip of his coffee before speaking again. “Look, I’m not saying they’re connected, but…”

Blaise shivers, cracking his knuckles anxiously. “How long ago was this?”

“Oh, a while. Happened when I was real young. I think Y/N was…eight or nine. Should be just about a decade since then.”

“So why the doll?”

“Nobody knows,” Regulus shrugs. “They rebuilt the house after the fire, and then the doll just showed up one day. It’s creepy as fuck, I’m aware.”

“Just a bit,” Blaise drawls.

Regulus laughs. “You seem cool, man. D’you wanna come hang out with me sometime? I could take you to the good restaurants in town for like, lunch or something. Lord knows you gotta get outta this house.”

“Sounds great,” Blaise grins. “Would be nice to hang out with literally anyone other than those guys. I love ‘em, but y’know.”

“Well, if you’re not busy, how ‘bout today? There’s this awesome old-school diner that makes the best onion rings-”

Regulus chatters on, promising to pick Blaise up at noon for lunch. Blaise smiles, actually smiles, and tells him he can’t wait. After walking him out to his car, Regulus calls from the window, in a sing-song voice,

“See you soon, Blaisey-Waisey!”

Merlin, he’d get along great with Pansy, Blaise muses as he walks back towards the house.

168 notes · View notes

phoenix--flying · 1 year

Text

pjo characters as things my friend group has said

Hazel: I just kinda radiate towards caves

Nico: Breathing has been taken out of Nicos software

Connor: I can speedrun to your house when you're home alone

Cecil: raisins are dehydrated rats

Percy: It's a roller coaster where the only option is to die

Will: I just goooot- my jugular sliced open by a cat

Nico: We're going out tonight and killing all the homophobes. Call it a date

Will: Why am I so much taller then- Oh its cause im standing on a dead body

Connor: You're sooo welcome. I literally did nothing

Hazel: Just because your trash doesn't mean you can't do great things. It's called a trash can not a trash cannot

Piper: Cut my hair, I'll cut your throat

Thalia: Sometimes I do slap kids

Travis: When I grow up I'm gonna be a legal drug dealer

Beckendorf: I’m going to drop kick myself into space

Malcom: Briefly describe three applications that make use of the total eternal reflection of light Connor: The colour seven

Grover: Percys reaching old age, we should put him in a retirement home

Piper: Leo what did you do Leo: I may have burned down an orphanage and it may have spread to this site.

Lou Ellen: Travelling, usually done on the ceiling

Will: Imagine sitting on your couch watching TV and your phone buzzes. Reminder: Breathe

Austin: i just broke an acorn.. panic whY IS THERE AN ACORN IN MY ROOM

Nico: i feel like today happened yesterday and i just slept for all of tomorrow and woke up in the evening

Malcom: yeah i fell down the stairs and broke my spine in 3 places Connor: that's hot

Jason: Nitroglycerin. The forbidden smoothie

Will: I always look like trash. Annabeth: I know that's why I hate looking like trash

Travis: well we only have a few minutes left of class.. y'all wanna watch something explode

Piper: It sounded like you smoked 10 packs of cigarettes and then hit puberty

Jason: Imagine you get fired the day after you die

Nico: My stomach just like...started learning German

Nyssa: Leo if you don't leave, i'm shoving this desk fan up your ass

Jason: I slammed my foot on the accelerator, running multiple red lights at 220km/h, because I wanted to drive safe

Nyssa: When you go through the car wash but you forget the car

Drew: *points at trashcan* That looks like you

Nico: I only want chemistry between me and a coffin

Jake: Gotta put your wheelchair in 4Wheeldrive. Outdoor mode. Off-road mode

Leo: Murder is ok as long as its fine

Percy: Maybe if I fall asleep on my textbook I'll wake up with all the knowledge

Connor: Let's play spin the bottle but it's only you and me

Leo: Now how do we calculate the density if swiss cheese

Clarisse: I have to ask one of the experts Chris: Who are the experts? Clarisse: I don't know

Piper: Your mom is on vacation Leo: well- she's on a permanent vacation

Michael: AYO BITCH YOUR FOODS FLAMIN THE FUCK

Silena: If you're slow I'm a fucking snail

Jason: We need to hold a funeral! Percy: Here comes the bride

Beckendorf: Have you ever died? No??? Well here you go!!! Death simulator. It’s permanent!

*Annabeth and Percy sitting on a bench with drinks and a cop drives by* Percy: What if they thought we were drinking and driving Annabeth: We're not in a car

Will: I'm so smart Nico: Oh my god since when

Piper: *gives Leo a singular goldfish* Piper: Feeding the poor

Lou Ellen: Bless your soul Nico: What soul? Lou Ellen: ...good answer

Sherman: an apple a day keeps the doctor away, and anybody else if you throw it hard enough

Connor: I can see the veins in my eyes

Ellis: Whatever sinks your boat!

Cecil: You can't kill the gays if the gays kill you first

Will: dude sorry there's a knife in your grandma's face it grew wings and flew there :( Cecil: I’m sorry my knife flew out of my hand and slit that guys throat then burned it so he wouldn’t bleed

Silena: *playing Minecraft* I walked into your house and your birds started aggressively dancing at me

Lee: That's just so unfortunate for me. That is just so- oh I died

Percy: Wanna go to Toronto? Why drive just take the Earth Quake on natural disaster

Travis: The roof is just caving in on us it's fine

Michael: My arms are broken, my legs are broken, my lungs are broken, my knees are broken, I got decapitated when I was five

Connor: We're gonna die? No we're gonna beat the speedrun world record

Cecil: Hell to go down I there

Will: Mask to mask resuscitation

Travis: I may or may not have accidentally dropped a match in the building on purpose

Nico: Minecraft but I accidentally sets a school on fire

Percy: Minecraft but I die of hypothermia

Piper: Minecraft but I left my eyes at home

Jake: Minecraft but my legs are broken

Jason: Minecraft but I died

Lou Ellen: Minecraft but we're all gay

Will: If I die the game is homophobic

Cecil: Minecraft but I run my best friend over

Nico: I wanna hit a citizen with a baseball bat

Michael: Hey sir, you have Alzheimer’s. Would you like a side of bronchitis?

Silena: Why can't this be straight? Lee: Because you're not

Lou Ellen: mmmm i love my jesus fish Cecil: bro jesus fish Lou Ellen: ikr, jesus moment

839 notes · View notes

muav99 · 10 days

Text

Bangchan shower sex

PiV, Shower sex duh, unprotected sex, Submissive reader X dominant bangchan, daddy kink, choking, teasing, oral

A long day. To say the least

Your job is driving you crazy, customer service is burning you out. You just need a break or a vacation.

You put on your headphones and play connected by your one and only, then flop down on your bed.

Defeated from the day you lay there and sigh listening to the lyrics

Trying to relax you close your eyes

“We’re pulling at each other like magnets. The rules are telling us to ignore them. Your moves they’re asking me for attention.”

Your face flushes.

Your mind starts to go to other places then the beach.

You slip your hand into your sweats slowly and

“Babe im home!” Your eager boyfriend bursts through the door

You both look at each other. He looks down at you. You look up at him. Faces red as can be.

He puts his practice bag down. “Um….is there something i can help you with?” He asks quietly

“Oh!” You squeak in surprise getting shy so you bury your face in the bed

Your headphones still fully playing in the background

He walks towards you and picks them up “So is this what did it?” He chuckles

“I just…..wanted to relieve some stress.” You say huffing

“Don’t be embarrassed babe” he strokes your hair and puts it behind one ear

“Let me help you, you trust me?” He grips your waist pulling you towards the bathroom

You blush avoiding his gaze. Dating for 3 years but he still makes you as nervous as day 1

“No need to be shy, its alright” he pecks your cheek gently.

He guides you through the other room, your hand in his

You arrive in the bathroom and he shuts the door

You stand anxiously awaiting his next move

“Lets get to it hm?” He motions you to strip

So you do. Slowly. He goes faster and more hungrily

You hum in response and turn on the shower

Turning it nice and warm you step in first

You can feel the water on your skin, and you wet your hair

He steps in and wraps his arms around you

Kissing your back gently

You turn around looking him in the eyes

You look into each other’s eyes with love, and his eyes turn dark…….lust for you takes over and he grips your hips

“Can i?” He whispers in your ear

You nod

He leans in for a passionate kiss

You kiss him back of course, and it gets heated fast

You grip at his hair, chest, back anything you can reach

He senses you’re desperate and heats it up

He grips your boob in one hand and ass in one hand

You moan out gripping his hair tighter

“You want it? Beg” he says

“Please chris” you whine

“Good girl” he responds

Kissing your lips and slowly grinding into you

The friction makes you moan

You can feel how hard he is and your knees nearly drop

“You want it?

“Yes you breathe out”

“You can have it”

He pushes you against the wall and thrusts into you

“Chan oh my god” you whine feeling his warmth in your walls

“Good girl” he grunts going faster just how you like it

He’s fucking the life out of you, the noises in the bathroom are lewd, and the air is foggy

Then lord. He wraps his hand around your neck

Thats when you start to feel it you’re seeing stars

“Im so close chan” you whine

“No” he stops looking you dead in the eyes

“Are you a good girl?”

“Yes”

“Prove it”

“Please please let me cum please” you cry

You drop to your knees

You lick up his shaft and start sucking and bobbing up and down

He sighs “Thats it”

“Oh god” he moans and he grips your head

You can barely breathe under the water and sucking his dick

“Stop” he says

You immediately stand up “What did i do wrong?”

He pounds into you

“Its your turn to feel good”

You cry out

He’s whispering sweet nothings in your ears, “good job baby, you can take it, good girl” talking you through it

You whine and whimper and cry his name out

He’s close you can tell, his face is burrowed in your neck

Grunting and moaning just for you to hear

“Cum with me baby” he says

And you do. You both pull away and pant, you look at him and smile

“That was amazing” you say

“Lets clean off” he grabs the soap

He smiles “Want round 2 in the bed?” He wiggles his eyebrows

“Chan!” You slap his arm

You whisper in his ear “yes daddy”

Thank you!!!!! I hope you enjoyed im so sorry it took forever 😭❤️🫶🫶🫶

#smut #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #felix smut #skz smut #straykids smut #felix x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #skz felix #hyunjin x reader #kinktober #bang chan #shower smut #Spotify

64 notes · View notes

millersdjarin · 1 year

Text

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Four

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse

Chapter Length: 4.2k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info

notes: im sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others! if it's any consolation, a few of the chapters in this fic are 10k, so there's that. :) i've set a posting schedule of mondays and thursdays, but this week i'm posting on sunday because i'm going to be travelling on monday and i have to stay off tumblr to avoid tlou spoilers until the evening. so, surprise :)

i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

“How do you feel?” Is the first thing you hear when you wake, rolling over on your makeshift bed to find Mando standing at the cave entrance again. He’s leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his hip cocked out, one leg bent casually.

Kriffing hells, how is he so attractive when all you can see of him is his posture and his impossibly shiny armour?

You force the thought from your mind, blaming it on your half-asleep state.

“I don’t know yet,” you answer with a grimace. It’s been two days since your fall. The pain is better, though the rest of your body feels stiff now, muscle soreness finally catching up with you after the tumble. There hasn’t been another storm, at least, so Mando has managed to hunt for every meal so far. He goes out to get water every morning, filling canteens to the brim. He makes you drink so much that sometimes it feels like you’re swimming in it. “Hydration helps with healing,” he says every time, even though you already know; he says it just to counter your playful glaring at him every time he hands you the flask.

“Sun rose not that long ago,” he cranes his neck to gaze up at the sky, “if you’re feeling up to it, we can probably travel today.”

You manage to sit up, but the minute you do, pain shoots down from the wound on your calf and into your ankle. It circles there around the joint and throbs. “Have we got any more ice packs?”

“One more,” Mando answers as he heads right over to his medpack and gets it out.

“We should ration it,” you hold out your hand to stop him activating it. “For when we’re travelling. I’ll probably need it.”

He looks down at the pack, hesitates. Then nods and puts it away. “Do you think you’ll be okay to travel today? If so, we should move soon, make the most of the daylight.”

Shifting a little, you try to get a gage on your body, how it feels. A grimace makes its way onto your face without your consent. Everything hurts. Literally everything. Muscles you didn’t even know you had are strained and stiff.

But you’ve been here for two days. He’s been stranded here for four.

“If the answer is anything but yes,” his voice cuts through your rapidly declining thoughts, “then my answer is no.”

Relieved, you smile. But you protest, “Mando, you’ve stayed with me so long now. I can make my own way back.”

“No,” he says definitively. “We move when you’re ready.”

You relax, settling back against the wall. You’re too sore to argue.

“The kid’s enjoying the vacation, anyway,” Mando says, the lilt of a smile in his voice.

As if summoned, Grogu steps forward from his little bed at the back of the cave. He yawns, his tiny mouth opening as wide as it can go, his eyes screwing shut.

Oh, Maker, he is adorable.

“You take time off a lot?” You ask with a wry smile as Mando scoops the kid up into his arms.

The huff of a laugh comes through his helmet. “Not really.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Mando tickles Grogu’s cheek, earning a little giggle.

You watch them. There’s that warmth again, creeping its way between your ribs, around your heart.

You have to look away.

All three of you are starting to get a little stir crazy by the time the night comes around.

You’re feeling better, though. Mando’s hydration obsession is working to help loosen out your stiff muscles. It doesn’t help, though, that you have to keep getting up every hour to pee. Especially because you have to tell Mando every time nature calls, which is, admittedly, rather humiliating—it shouldn’t be, it’s fucking natural, but he’s Mando and he’s been making you feel a certain way, and you don’t want to have to admit to this terrifying yet comforting man that you have to piss. It’s even worse that he has to help you hobble outside, then walk away while you do your business, and come back and pretend to not notice the puddle sinking into the ground.

It’s demoralising. Your cheeks are tired from flushing red all the time.

But he insists on you drinking enough, even when you protest.

“I don’t mind doing this, you know,” he says as the sun sets, an arm around you as you hobble to the designated Nature Area.

“Yes, you do,” you grumble, kind of just wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“I don’t,” he insists. “It’s fine. Besides, it’s good to move a little.”

“A little? Mando, it’s every hour, on the hour, at this point.”

The unfamiliar sound of a soft laugh comes through his helmet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounded fond. But you’ve never heard a laugh like that. So. “It’s good. Just call me back when you’re ready.”

He never comes back until you call, no matter how long it takes you.

It isn’t lost on you, either, that you never would have been able to do this on your own. You’d have had to piss where you sat. Which seems like a worse concept than just ruining your leg, and subsequent mobility, forever by forcing yourself to walk home.

As darkness approaches, Mando takes his flashlight—yours is long dead by now—and puts it in the far end of the cave. He stays over there, rustling in his pack for something. Curious, you watch, wondering what he’s doing; he angles the light strangely, propping it up with a few stray rocks on the ground, and then fishes out a small piece of canvas, pulled from what remained of your tent. He puts it over the flashlight, folds it once.

Then, the light is softer. Diffused around the cave.

Grogu, who is sitting against the wall playing with a little silver ball, looks up at the newly-lit cave walls and laughs in glee.

“You like it, kid?” Mando asks him.

The kid claps his hands together, gazing around. Mando laughs softly and sits back down beside the kid, watching him.

You’re watching Mando. It’s impossible not to, with the soft light reflecting from his armour in a new way, casting new highlights and shadows across every curve and edge. You wonder what places he’s been, how he’d look in all kinds of light. Harsh, bright, sunshine of a bright summer’s day, the dark ashy colour beneath rain clouds.

“Mando?” You find yourself saying.

He looks up at you, one hand holding the kid.

“Tell me about somewhere else you’ve been,” you request. “Please?”

“Where do you want to hear about?��

“Anywhere. First place that comes to mind.”

For a second, he’s quiet, just looking at you. Considering. When he speaks, he doesn’t say what you expected him to, and his voice is softer than it should be. “You really want to travel, don’t you?”

And, okay.

That hits a nerve.

You look away, blinking. It’s clear that you’ve tensed, that something has made you uncomfortable; and you expect him to backtrack, to apologise, but he just waits. So patient, like he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t say anything, or even if you just told him to fuck right off. You wish you could see his face, decipher his expression. Match it to the soft curiosity of his lovely voice.

“Yeah,” you manage on a shaky breath, imagining yourself up there, in the vastness of space, free to explore the Galaxy. “Yeah, I do.”

Quiet again. He’s giving you space.

You take it, let it sink in.

Then, his voice is there again, “So why don’t you?”

And if that isn’t a question and a half. “It’s, uh,” you clear your throat. You’re about to say it’s complicated. But that doesn’t even cover the half of it. Instead, feeling a cold, familiar dread slowly creeping through your veins, you say, “I like it here.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at you still, some kind of unexplainable patience coming from his dark visor.

It’s unclear if he can hear the omission of the truth.

You don’t want to lie to him.

You’re sitting here, in a cave that he so beautifully lit as best he can, on top of a bed that he made just for you to be comfortable, after he’s helped you pee about twelve times a day for the last two days. He’s been nothing but kind.

And it’s not that you feel like you owe him answers because of that. Nor, in fact, that you think he feels you owe him answers. His quiet, unassuming patience in the dim intimacy of this cave is proof enough of that.

No, it’s not that.

It’s that you’ve been alone for so long. You’ve never said this to anyone.

And after all this, once you’re back at your hut and you’ve fixed his ship together, he’s going to leave. And you’re never going to see him again, anyway.

So.

“Truthfully,” you say, “as much as I like it here, it’s not where I’d choose to be. If I had another choice.”

Instead of staying still and silent, he starts to nod. His gaze is unwavering, solid and stable, weaving its way into the tension and uncertainty beneath your skin, soothing it.

Grogu gets up and waddles over to you. He climbs clumsily into your lap.

Then, with a quick look to Grogu, Mando says, “I understand.”

And that, those simple words, make something release in your chest.

The weight of your confession doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expected. In fact, it feels like something has lifted in the air between the three of you. Like even the kid understands.

Well.

This is new.

As the third morning in the cave rolls around, you wake up feeling much better.

Once you’ve relieved your always-full bladder, you tell Mando as much, staggering back into the cave and to your bed. “You can stop over-watering me now,” you tease as he lets you back against the wall, gentle. Your hands are on the backs of his arms, and slide all the way down them as he moves away. You wish you could linger there, and the way he moves so slowly, his visor gazing down into your sleepy eyes, makes you think that he wishes that, too.

As your palms brush against his wrists, he seems to catch himself. He pulls away quickly and turns to distract himself with the kid.

“So, you’re ready to travel?” He asks.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, staring at him from behind. He has a nice behind. (And you need to stop. Immediately.)

“You can lean on me. We’ll take it slow, I promise.”

Kriff, say that again… “I’ll be alright. You’ve got enough to carry.”

He looks at you again. “I’m leaving the parts here,” he says, like that should be obvious.

“What?” You frown. “But your ship…”

“Once we find our way back, and you’re safe, I’ll come back for them.”

“Mando, I can manage. Seriously, we should take the parts. You’ve been here long enough.”

The helmet tilts. “You trying to get rid of me?” It would concern you, if the teasing in his tone wasn’t arousingly obvious.

You just about manage to recover from the stirring in your belly, and you laugh, “Totally. Sick of you already.”

The kid, standing beside him, looks at you and makes a sad noise. His ears turn down towards the ground.

Kriff. “Hey, I’m just kidding,” you assure him with a smile. As a peace offering, you reach your hands out to him, and he relaxes in an instant, immediately plodding over to you and climbing into your lap. You hold him, give him a quick hug, then just let him sit there. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually gonna miss you,” you whisper into his ear. He coos happily, tugging at a loose thread on your coat.

When you look up, Mando is, of course, staring at you. This time, you know for sure that it’s at both you and the kid.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing,” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I’m going to pack up. Then we can move. You okay to sit with the kid?”

“You know I am,” you smile, and watch as Mando nods and heads outside.

That pang in your chest is back. Well, you’re not sure when it turned from a slow warmth into a pang.

But it’s there. Too obvious to ignore.

For a few miles, you manage pretty well. It took some convincing, but you got Mando to agree to taking the parts along with him in the end. You do lean on him, but only when moving over particularly rough terrain, fallen logs, or exposed tree roots.

“How we doing?” Mando asks at around noon.

“Fine,” you say, feeling a little breathless.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. We can stop soon for a break.”

Another hour passes, your ankle is starting to throb, and you’re really fucking glad that you saved that ice pack for this exact moment.

Mando sits you down on a fallen log, keeping his arm around you until you’re properly seated, lingering just a little too long for you to tame the way it makes your heart beat wildly. To feel the heat of him through his flight suit, your hands and arms pressed to parts of him not covered by armour, just the soft parts; it’s a lot. When you first saw him, this wall of metal, you never thought you’d see any further than that. Kriff, you never even thought he’d get closer to your hut than he was when you had your blaster pointed at him.

Maybe that would have been best. Because if he’d just left, if there was another way for him to get the help he needed, you wouldn’t be thinking about him the way you are right now.

The softness of the crook of his elbow, the curve of his waist and hip. The warmth of his skin that you have yet to see an inch of. All of the weapons strapped to him, so close to you, close enough that if it were anyone else, you’d be scared.

But it’s Mando.

This might be the least scared you’ve been in a lifetime.

He cracks the ice pack to activate it, then kneels down in front of you. Reaching out to grab a smaller log, he places it under your ankle, elevates your leg slightly. Then his gloved fingers tug at the hem of your trousers. “Can I?” He asks.

Kriff. You nod, unable to form words.

The rough-yet-smoothness of the gloves is all you feel at first, brushing delicately against your skin as he lifts your trousers, then unlaces your boots, gently pulling them off, followed by your socks. Your ankle is more swollen than it had been this morning, but you’d expected that.

And, besides, that is not what you’re thinking about right now.

Instead your mind can only focus on the softness of his hold under your foot, the gentle way he places the ice pack on top of it. The heat of his hand starts to come through. You wish it was his bare skin. Wish you knew what his skin is like. Is it calloused, or soft from always protecting them? Does he have scars? Is the hair on his arms dark, light, a thin covering or thicker, perfect to run your fingers through—

His hands are gone before you realise it. It takes your glitching mind a second to catch up.

You chase him with your eyes, silently wishing for him to come back.

But then.

Then.

As he turns away, he reaches for the flask in his satchel. You watch his hands lift to his helmet, take a gentle hold of the base of it. At first you panic, thinking he’s about to remove his helmet, no you don’t have to do that it’s okay—

But he just lifts it the tiniest bit, such a small movement that you only know it has been lifted because he puts the rim of his flask to his lips and takes a sip.

You can’t see his skin, not a hint of it. But you can hear him drinking, hear the water against his lips, the gentle gulps as he swallows.

And the way it entrances you, takes you away from the forest and the pain of your ankle and the fact that this is so not appropriate for you to be thinking—yeah, it’s probably for the best that he can’t ever show his face to you.

You look away before he even lowers the helmet again.

Maybe the worst part about all this is that you’re starting to dread Mando and the kid leaving.

That’s not how this was supposed to go, not how any of this was supposed to play out. You helped him because it was the right thing to do, because it’s exactly what They would tell you not to do, because your life has been the same every single fucking day since you got here.

But that’s been fine. It’s been safe.

“Pass me that wrench?” Mando asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You pass him it, noting the tilt of his helmet in a wordless ‘thanks’ before he turns back to his job. He’s up on a ladder, leaning against the ship’s exterior wall with one of the panels fully off, fixing something to do with the foundation for the body.

His ship is bigger than you’d expected. He tells you that it’s bigger than his old ship, the Razor Crest, but only by a little. “It’s a similar shape,” he’d said, “but it has two bunks and more space. For the kid.” He has a star fighter too, apparently, docked at some other base off-world with a friend of his. It’s funny to imagine him with friends, though you’re not sure why. Especially because, since getting to know him the last few days, you know how generous he is. How kind, helpful. Gentle, despite everything.

Why wouldn’t he have friends?

Beneath him, you sit on a crate and lean against the ship, waiting for him to give you more instructions. The engine has been mostly fixed now, as much as it’s ever going to be out here in the middle of nowhere using scrounged-up parts. He’s just getting the last of the body work done, enough to make sure it’s aerodynamically sound.

It’s interesting, watching him work. You ask a lot of questions, and every time you do, you expect a frustrated sigh or an exasperated response. But he answers every question thoroughly, and it doesn’t even distract him from his work.

The sun is warm against your face. The afternoon of Mando’s fifth day on this planet is drawing to a close, fading into the evening. As the sky turns to duller shades of blue, tinted with oranges and pinks, you can’t help but admire the way he looks beneath the light. His armour is always the same, always so distinctive, yet it reflects different lights in different ways. Sometimes it makes the beskar appear darker, like a gun metal grey. Other times it’s a bright silver. Then there are times like this, when it goes with the colour of the sky, reflects the beauty of everything surrounding him.

You think back to the light in the cave, how that looked different still. The urge to see the Galaxy comes over you again, though this time it’s not staring at his ship and dreaming about taking off in it that does it; this time, it’s wondering what he looks like in even more places, more environments. Does the metal get hot in the sunshine? Or is it always as cool as it’s been when you’ve had the chance to feel it before?

The kid is sitting on the ground in front of you. There’s a beetle scuttling around in the mud, and Grogu is toying with it, blocking it off when it runs one way, then doing the same when it runs the other. You wonder if he’s going to eat it, or if he’s just having fun by being cruel to the little six-legged creature.

“Don’t play with your food,” Mando says to him, answering your silent question.

Grogu looks up at him. His ears turn downwards, sulking. Mando ignores his obvious pleas to change his mind, turning back to his work. When Grogu looks back at the beetle, he only just catches it before it runs off, and instead of toying with it anymore, he just shoves it in his mouth with a loud crunch.

You find yourself smiling at him. He smiles back, ears lifting again.

“Alright,” Mando starts to step down from the ladder. You reach out and hold one of the ladder’s legs, knowing he probably doesn’t need you to, but still not wanting to risk it. Ladders make you nervous. “Think that’s the best we’re going to get.”

You look up to the ship. He’s fixed the panel back on again. Now all that remains is the burnt metal from his “interesting landing”, with some bends in it, exposing little sections of the framework beneath. It’s definitely a patchwork job. But it looks better than it did when you got here this morning. So.

“How’s your leg?” He asks as he folds up the ladder.

“Good,” you answer. It’s stretched out in front of you, propped on another crate. “Ship looks good.”

With a resigned sigh, he puts his hand on his hips, and tilts his helmet to look up at his handiwork. “No, she doesn’t. But she’ll do.” Then he looks back to you, “I couldn’t have fixed it without your help. Thank you.”

You shift under his gaze, unable to help it. Every time he looks at you it feels like his eyes can see right through you, and the part that makes you uncomfortable is that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Self-conscious and disgustingly aware of your own inappropriate, lustful thoughts? Yes. Uncomfortable? No. You don’t think it ever could.

“Of course,” you say eventually. “And, hey, I’ve got a scar to remember our little adventure by, huh?”

He laughs softly. You see the shake of his chest as the chuckle comes through his modulator. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Hm, no. But there’s no gift shop around here. So.”

He shakes his head, and you imagine, hope, that he’s smiling under all that beskar. He certainly looks casual, a hand on one hip, one leg relaxed while his weight rests on the other.

“Do you always stare so much?” You find yourself asking with a teasing, daring quirk of your brow.

“Yes.”

“At everyone, or just me?”

He pauses. Your heart rate spikes briefly as you wait for his response to your terrible excuse for flirting. “At everyone,” he answers eventually, and disappointment starts to set in before he says, “But it’s harder to look away from you.”

Oh.

The disappointment quickly shifts to nervousness, heart beating fast again as you clench your hands in your lap. He just stands there, staring despite the awkward and loaded silence between you, and stares. As if he’s making his point by offering an example.

You look away. Suddenly, your cheeks are hot. “You hungry?” You find yourself asking.

He pauses again, then nods. “Yes.”

“I’ll make us some dinner. You just come back to the hut whenever you’re ready.” It’s only as you stand to hobble back home that you realise he might not want that. You swivel back around to face him, backtrack, “I mean, unless you want to eat out here. Your ship’s fixed now, I guess you can—you can stay in that? You don’t have to come back with me. I’ll be okay.”

Again, getting more and more infuriating with each silence he lets stretch out, he just stares. Kriffing hells, does he ever stop!?

“Would you let me cook for you?” He asks, finally.

You weren’t expecting that.

Shifting weight to your good leg, you raise your eyebrows. “You want to cook me dinner?”

He nods once. “Yes. To thank you for all your help. And as a farewell.”

You’ve been trying your hardest not to think about that part. It sits in your stomach, cold and dreadful and confusing, too far down for you to swallow it. “Alright,” you agree with a soft smile. “I can’t promise I’ve got any decent ingredients, though. You might have to perform a miracle.”

“I’m up to the challenge,” he says, hooking his thumb over the belt around his hips. You’re distracted by it, finding your eyes sliding down to his middle before you catch yourself and look back up. The tilt of his helmet suggests he might have seen your gaze shift. “I’ll walk back with you. Just give me a minute.”

You can’t find a reason to refuse.

♡ updates posted Mondays and Thursdays ♡

notes: thank you for reading! all interactions are appreciated as always, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️ as always, the title and lyrics at the start are from taylor swift's "daylight"

taglist: @toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @iwantjoelmillertoultraviolenceme

if you wanna be on the taglist, let me know! (pls specify if just the taglist for this fic, or the list for all my future fics ❤️)

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars fanfiction #my post #my fic: mando #i only see daylight

293 notes · View notes

mamawasatesttube · 2 months

Note

Hi hello,

Random question, but what do you headcannon cassie to look like and dress through-out her teens into adulthood? Both as wondergirl and as cassie? On that same vein, what adult superhero name do you like for her?

Anywhoosies, wishing u a great day!

late teenage into early 20s cassie is grappling with comp het pretty hard and tries to grow her hair out and dress more femme. she hates it but she doesn't know she hates it for a hot minute. this is both as wonder girl and as cassie because she barely exists as a civilian at all for a long time. "cassie sandsmark" publicly was wonder girl for a while, and she tried coming up with a fake name and identity to be a civilian again in tt03, but it was rough on her and she ultimately gave up on it.

so i think that really just weighs on her - she's a hero 24/7, she's leading the titans, she's basically letting the vigilante life consume her and she's gonna crash and burn out hard any day now. i think donna sees this and goes hey... you know you don't have to be exactly like me, right? in fact i think you need a vacation. let's go to themyscira for a bit. and its big sis lil sis bonding time but also for the first time cassie catches herself thinking um... women 😳 women? 😳 oh god. women 😳 and she has a whole crisis about it.

when she comes back from her vacation she does feel a lot more in touch with herself. the problem is that what she sees there (dissatisfied with her work-life balance, worn out, starting to confront her internalized homophobia) freaks her out. so she kind of has a crisis and hacks her hair off with a pair of scissors in the middle of the night and then looks in the mirror like. oh GOD. what did i DO??? oh god oh fuck who do i know who can fix this and won't ask me questions if i say i don't wanna talk about it hhghnggrhgnn...

so she shows up in kansas wearing a beanie at like 1am like kon Please. help. 😭 and she feels So guilty bc he's her ex and he's still kind and loving enough that he does get out of bed despite having an early morning with farm chores, and then he's all sleepily shuffling to the bathroom with her like here. sit. i'll fix your bangs. jeez. and the vibes are so... you know. bathroom light late at night spilling into the hallway. he's cutting her hair. krypto is peering at them from the doorway like why the fuck are you awake. cassie's on the verge of tears bc she wants to tell him why she did this but she's terrified it'd hurt him if she was like i think i was never actually in love with you

but when she finally says it he just stares at her. and then stares at her some more. and then he starts? laughing?? and at first she's kind of hurt like uh. that was serious and also pretty hard to say, what's so funny. and hes just almost in tears holding her hands in the bathroom by the sink like. cassie. ive been so scared of telling you i think im gay. for like. 3 months now. cassie i hooked up with an alien several weeks ago and i had a whole crisis i just refused to tell anyone about. um. yeah. and she's like. YOU WHAT? ALIEN HOOKUP? CONNER KENT? and hes like NOOOO WE ARENT TALKING ABOUT IT. YOURE A LESBIAN LETS TALK ABOUT THAT. but its like. oh! and they click back into place as best friends instead so much more easily than they ever dated. it's about the late night catharsis of it all.

this is a lot of words to say that after this i think she embraces the short hair and starts leaning into masc presentation again. i am a butch cassie truther for LIFE. get that girl some cargo shorts and a carabiner for her lasso STAT. i'm talking those truly heinous cargo pants that unzip at the knees to become shorts. formal cassie rocks the blazer with a bra underneath look. cassie lingerie is a tank top with no bra. she's butch to the bone baybee

as for her adult hero name, i still kinda waffle about it but i've Tentatively settled on "xenia"!! it's taken from one of zeus's epithets and has to do with hospitality, kindness, and the protection of strangers (yknow those rules about breaking bread with strangers etc, those are also called xenia). the og meaning had to do with the idea that a stranger could be a god in disguise so you should always honor strangers, but i think cassie would do a sort of converse of that with it, like i've got the power and i'm gonna use it to protect people i don't know, not for the idea of a boon but because it's who i am. still potentially workshopping this, though.

#answers #not-orpheus #cassie

56 notes · View notes

redr0sewrites · 8 months

Note

I really need An Angsty fic with Aaravos and Reader where the reason he helps the Humans get what they want was so that they could destroy Eachother cus the humans killed his lover Aka Reader?

Anyway this is just a Lil idea that popped up I hope it's OK lol :) I luv my starboi☆

im sorry this took so long 😭 i love this request it really made me excited to see!!!! again im so sorry it took forever to get too i was on vacation for a while and i lost track of time <\\\3 anyway, hope u enjoy

🥀Cw: angst with no comfort, aaravos is in mourning, slight descriptions of violence and murder, depression

your death had been an accident, that is what aaravos had been told. a simple casualty of war, someone who got caught in the cross hairs of something they couldn't control. it was supposed to reassure him, it was supposed to make him feel better about your passing. and yet, it didnt. the screams of anguish that escaped from aaravos' throat cut through the air like a knife through butter, slicing waves of agony over anyone who heard them. you were gone, his precious star.

you had always been so kind, so willing to help others. you had tried to see the good in humans, you had always believed in them. your own sense of justice caused your demise. the beings that you had once loved and cared for so much had slain you, leaving aaravos painfully, dreadfully alone. aaravos remembered you well. he remembered long conversations under the stars, the both of you giggling and smiling as though nothing could ever hurt you now.

"what we have is special", you always told him with a smile. "nothing can hurt us if we have eachother". and yet, you were gone. aaravos woke yet sobbing again, your side of the bed disgustingly cold and empty. the sight of your face and the warmth of your touch was fleeting, disappearing as his dream faded. he tried to reach out, to warn you not to go, but every time you slipped through his fingers, telling you would be just fine. he felt like he was drowning in his own tears, reminiscing your final hours together.

"i'll be back soon my love", you giggled. "theres nothing to worry about. im only visiting the humans again!" despite the overwhelming sense of foreboding gnawing painfully at his gut, aaravos had nodded. oh, how regret burned in his heart at that simple acceptance.

aaravos remembered everything. he had lived a long, long time. he remembered every wound, every scar, and yet none stung as much as your death. he remembered when you first started helping the humans, you had offered magic to those pitiful creatures. aaravos had tried to warn you, he had tried to tell you that this path only led to pain, but you wouldn't listen. you never did. you told him to trust you, and trust you he did. aaravos followed you without a care or a reason, he loved you unconditionally in the same way that the moon loves the sun, always chasing, always wanting, and yet you always slipped away when sunrise came.

another tormenting dream. aaravos woke again, gasping and shivering as tears spilled down his cheeks. he reached towards your side of the bed, than remembered. aaravos layed back down, sinking bitterly into the mattress below him. nothing was comfortable now that you were gone. pastries were not sweet enough, wine was not strong enough, and sleep was not long enough.

the wound that was your death had festered and rotted so much within aaravos' heart that he feared he did not have one anymore. anguish had turned to regret, regret into depression, and depression into anger. the anger had only grown stronger, the loss of your light in his world was too much to bear.

the humans would burn for this, he wanted them all to feel the pain of his rotting heart. they had stolen his life, his love, his sun, and he would steal theirs. the creatures you had onlce loved, the beings you had put so much time and energy into saving, those despicable humans, they would pay. deep down, somewhere broken and small, a voice whispered from aaravos' heart that maybe, just maybe, this wasnt what you would have wanted. but that didnt matter anymore. you werent there to tell him that.

eee hope u enjoyed! this turned out better than expected :0

#tdp aaravos #tdp #the dragon prince #aaravos #tdp s5 #aaravos x reader #tdp x reader #aaravos angst #aaravos sad #aaravos x you #aaravos x reader angst #fancy writing #tdp angst #angst #the dragon prince x reader #the dragon prince angst

81 notes · View notes

funsizedshark · 2 years

Note

your griddlehark was such a funny and cute reading! and i was wondering if you have any griddlehark recs on ao3? thank you!!

hi anon! first of all thank you so much, i'm so glad u enjoyed it hehe and second of all!! i absolutely do :] i wouldn't call myself an expert but ive been going through the tag and i definitely have a few favorites that i need to comment on because i really loved these fics a lot. all of these are currently complete! i hope you enjoy them and if you want im always up for discussing great works hehe

here we go: not enough to ruin me by autumntales: 29k, the handmaiden au set on the ninth. showstopping amazing incredible if you havent seen the handmaiden i think id recommend you watch the movie first because knowing the plot twist is coming makes it even sexier but! theres no movie knowledge required. excellent work.

its a long road (losing all you own) by greekphilosophress: 5k, library au, harrow thinks shes being haunted and antagonized by gideon. honestly whats new. harrow's internal monologue on the brink of a nervous breakdown is what rlly makes this fantastic

the things that befall cavaliers by ThatAloneOne: 1k, short and sweet in that rip your heart out way. gideon and harrow from the end of gtn are time-looped back to the beginning of the events while theyre still on the ninth. i wanna read a 40k fic with this premise now

Midnight at the Mithraeum by zoicite; 66k, harrow is the manager of a speakeasy, gideon works at a casino, they hate each other and wake up married. literally what more could you ask for. i love realistic relationship development and even though they are very stupid and bad at communicating i adore them

Cake by the Ocean by zoicite: 15k, same author!! gideon bargains her voice for human legs after she saves harrow from drowning. it goes just about as well as you imagine it would go but its hilarious

The Furnace of You by Cypseloides: 67k, post htn (not nona compliant) where harrow, gideon and cam(and pal) end up escaping from the mithraeum. the summary reads angst. dramatiques. kissing. and theyre right its all of that but theres also camilla being incredible. palamedes being just as great. and most importantly, gideon getting some LOVIN

blue gray green lavender by smolranger: 29k, harrow and gideon are forced to work together to participate in a sailing race. this made me want to learn how to sail, which is the highest possible compliment i can pay a fic-you made me wanna learn something. thats incredible. i love it. the amount of detail in it is so good to read and the griddlehark is just. chef's kiss. excellent work

raise the gates, love by syntheseas: 3k hades (the videogame) au where gideon is zagreus and harrow is thanatos. if uve ever played the game youre gonna love this, its so good and the premise is PERFECT like are you kidding. thats Them

trust/fall by strangehunger; 4k, piercer harrowhark lets tattoo artist gideon tattoo her. anon u dont know me but tattoos are IT for me so this really checked all the boxes for me personally

we've got a good thing goin' by sinshine: 14k, nebulously post htn, team 69 find a safe house and its. the tern family vacation home. its hilarious. griddlehark try and fail to figure their shit out until they get it right. i love it

beat your swords into ploughshares (and your spears into pruning hooks) by NotAFicWriter: 18k, post-war, harrowhark goes cottagecore and avoids everyone. she plants tomatoes instead. little butch farmer harrow was everything i never knew i needed but this fic DELIVERED. i was yearning for a butch farmer wife like ten words in

eyes and words so icy, oh but she burns by groundedsaucer (coasterchild): 47k, harrow is a figure skater, gideon is a hockey player. obviously they end up pair skating together for a competition. obviously they hate each other at the beginning. i went into this with high expectation and finished it with the delight i usually associate with good sports anime. loved it

nothing safe is worth the drive by saltwaterconfessions (rosesandcinnamon): 4k, modern au with out besties on a road trip, the pining is incredible. hit a little bit too close to home ! the lesbian yearning is strong in this one !

let’s drink to feelings of temptation by overnights: 25k, bartender colleagues au, extremely fun because i love them being antagonistic. it fuels me.

memories of darkness undone by the light by corpsesoldier: 5k, not nona compliant post htn, if these two just TALKED TO EACH OTHER............ i swear to god. also an excellent example of lesbian miscommunication and yearning. really good

i hope u have fun reading! make sure to also check out other fics by these same authors and send them some love :] i might update this list in the future as i read my way through the tag. have a nice day!

#anons #answers #tlt #fic recs #captain's log #i might put this in a read more later! and maybe add some other links in the future just so i have this post as reference #if anyone else asks for recs #heres to hoping the links work lolol #have fun anon!#griddlehark

77 notes · View notes

thegreencanary · 2 years

Text

Just Hold On

Based on this request!!

Disclaimer: I did my best to incorporate seizures but I have never had one. I’m sorry if any of my descriptions are offensive, that is not my intention. I’d be happy to edit/change anything that is incorrect. Please just let me know!!

Paring: Billy x Fem! Reader. (Established relationship)

SORRY ITS LATE WORK HAS BEEN CRAZY

TW: Seizes, cursing,

A/N: This is my work. I give no permission to post it elsewhere or for anyone to claim it as their own

Im sorry this is a short one!

Running was never your favorite activity, especially when you could feel the burning in your lungs from each step. No matter how fast you went, you couldn’t get away from the black cloud that was barreling down the hallway at you. The heavy weight of a ringing clock hit you like a bullet each time. Screams would have been a good way to get help but the sounds dried up in your throat like water in a desert. Clawing, scratching and fighting you tried to get out of the hallway but it was useless, he was here.

Groggy, you trudged down the stairs, the nightmares had been getting worse even though you knew Eleven had taken out Vecna for good. You mumbled a good morning to your parents as you went to their bathroom to get your medication. They had to keep your pills so they could monitor how much you took and when you took them. The seizures had been decreasing which was beneficial because you could actually start enjoying things without worrying if you were gonna get set off. The phone ringing pulled you out of your daze, and a smile grew on you when you heard your mother say “Billy! How are you?” Downing your pills you ran out of the bathroom like a cartoon character and snatched the phone from you mom. Billy had been in California for a little vacation; in reality he wanted to get Max away from all things Vecna until it was finished.

“Billy??”

“Hey baby.”

It had been so long since you heard his voice, no dobut Max was already over at Lucas’s house, so you kind wondered why he wasn’t just knocking on your door.

“Where are you?”

“Home...dealing with Neil.”

Oh. That would be a really good reason. You were silent for a moment before Billy could tell you were uneasy. He knew about your condition but had never really seen you have any episodes, yet he was still very cautious.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay I promise. He’s just going out of town for a few days and he’s pissed I took so long bringing Max back.” “When c-”

“I’ll pick you up tonight after he leaves and we can talk all about it.”

A blush crept across your face as he read your mind. Your own mother laughed and you remembered where you were.

“Okay...I’ll see you then...I’ve missed you.”

“I know.”

You could practically hear Billy’s wink and laugh as he hung up the phone. You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed plastered on. He was coming tonight, you needed to shop, shower and shave.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Adjusting the AC/DC shirt you fidgeted a bit while waiting for Billy to come pick you up. Makeup was hard enough; changing looks to match your shoes, then your pants, then finally your shirt. A pair of hands wrapped around your waist as a familiar blonde mullets appeared in your mirror. The hug was warm and long, just what you were missing.

“Mmm. Hello:..can I help you?”

You felt a soft chuckle come from the California boy behind you.

“You definitely can.”

He pushed his hips into your backside as you squealed. Turning around your arms rested on his shoulders as the two of you just looked at each other for a few moments. This kiss that came next was one that could be written about for decades, but you pulled away when his hands traveled down your backside.

“Billy!”

He smirked and kissed you briefly.

“What? I can’t help myself.”

Someone must have let him in while you were changing, and you didn’t care. He damn near carried you to his car as you two left your house. The car ride to his place was full of laughter and him teasing you about how much he “didn’t” miss you. His hand gently squeezing your thigh was a soft reminder that he was only joking.

The laughter died down when Billy pulled into his driveway and Neil’s Truck was there.

“Stay in the car.”

His voice was demanding and irritated but you knew it was more concerned than mad at you. Your heart rate definitely sped up, but you reminded yourself to remain calm. It was hard to keep that in your mind as Neil stumbled out of the garage. Billy moved to try and hide you, but it was too late. They were shouting and you heard Billy take a punch. Trying to stay hidden, crawling into the back seat seemed like the best idea. The world started to spin when the shouting got closer and you heard someone yanking on the locked car door. Your breathing has become shallow and your vision was getting narrow.

“Billy…”

Closing your eyes you tried to just focus on keeping your heart rate down but the stress and tension around you was too much. The tensing of your muscles started and your eyes rolled into then back of your head.

“Y/N!!”

Billy was yanking on the car door. Neil passed out after their fight and Billy saw you hide in the back seat. When he looked in the window, he saw you shaking. Billy had done a lot of research just in case you ever had an episode around him. He faltered with his keys but opened the door and managed to get his Jean jacket under your head to act as a pillow. He made sure you were laid out as safely as possible. Billy was too worried that he would hurt you if he moved you, but once the convulsions stopped, he gently put you on your side. Slowly you came to, feeling his hand on your arm, gently rubbing.

“Billy?”

“Hey there gorgeous.”

“…are you okay?”

He laughed. “I should be asking that to you babe.”

There was a bit of silence and you took a deep breath.

“I’m…I’m okay. I was just…overwhelmed and I didn’t know what to do or where to go…”

Billy nodded and stayed quiet.

“I should take you home.”

“But…”

“I don’t know why Neil is still here. I don’t want you to get more stressed out. “

“…but I’ve missed you.”

You started to get really upset. You haven’t had an episode in ages and all of a sudden Neil’s dumb drunk ass brought one on. Rage built up inside you, but a calloused hand calmed you down.

“Hey. I’ve missed you too. More than I’ll ever admit. But it’s not safe here.”

He got into the drivers seat and started the car. You cried softly in the back on the way home. It was silent as Billy drove, he didn’t want to take you home either, but it was for the best. The next time the door opened it was in your driveway.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll be the sappy lovey-dovey boyfriend tomorrow. I’ll do the romantic things and tell you everything you want to hear as we spend the whole day together. I’ll be so mushy and gross that you’ll be begging for me to be an asshole again. Okay?”

That made you laugh. That didn’t sound too bad.

“You have to buy me at least 3 things.”

“One and a nice dinner.”

“Two and a cheap dinner?”

“None and all the food you want.”

“Deal!”

You got out and hugged him tightly. There was a desperation in his arms that you wanted to comfort but you knew it wasn’t time.

“Tomorrow.”

He rolled his eyes and kissed you.

“I’ll see you then.”

And boy did he deliver.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

The end! I’m so sorry this one took me so long. I’m still fighting my depression but I knew I had to get this out. I’ve got more to work on so hopefully I can get him out soon.

A/N: I’m so so so sorry if I missed medical things or said the wrong stuff when it comes to seizures. I will correct and edit if I must. Please help me if I am wrong! Thank you!! ❤️🖤❤️

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #billy x reader #stranger things #billy could have been saved #billy deserved better #billy x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you #Billy #Hargrove

57 notes · View notes

lemony-snickers · 2 years

Note

hi lemony. Hoping u could take my request.

Are you in a mood for angst? it doesn't matter what the plot is. im just really looking for some angsty fics of Kakashi x fem reader.

hello, my dear. thank you for stopping by & i hope you are doing well! now, you sent this right after 🏳️‍🌈 anon sent this song to my inbox. i know now they didn’t intend for this to be a request, but at the time, i thought they did.

i hope neither of you mind that i’ve combined these two into one little ditty with a gender-neutral MC. <3

here is a link to the song in case anyone would like to listen to it.

Title: Cursed (AO3 Link Here) Summary: Kakashi Hatake knows he is cursed even if not everyone can see it. Word Count: 3,344 (that includes the lyrics and i’m too lazy to see what it is without them as;ldfjd forgive me) Warnings: gn!MC, mentions of suicide, references to depression and death, some suggestive language .

There's a fire in my brain and I'm burning up Oh my, oh my Keep running for the sink but the well is dry Oh my, oh my

Kakashi changes after his team falls apart. His posture is too straight—his jaw too tight. Even with the mask on, it’s obvious he’s always grinding his teeth.

Though he tries his best to let the cruel and cutting words roll off him—Friend-Killer, Cold-Blooded, Murderer—they settle over his skin like a painful exoskeleton of preconceived notions. It is a comfort in some ways because he knows no one will ever bother to look beyond it.

Someone does, though, even if he doesn’t notice right away.

They don’t see him crying in the night, don’t watch him rush to the kitchen sink to scrub the persistent, imagined blood from his fingers, but they know Kakashi suffers in the wake of Rin’s death. They visit her grave, make small offerings. They hope seeing the evidence of someone else mourning will remind Kakashi he is not alone.

He sees the flowers over Rin’s name and feels alone anyway.

Every word I say is kindling But the smoke clears when you're around Won't you stay with me, my darling When my walls start burning down, down, down?

Kakashi is too good at what he does—too precise and neat and dedicated to his craft. It might be a more admirable trait if his trade were not plied in violence. He buries himself in it, dives elbow-deep into the viscera of his enemies just so he doesn’t have to remember what is waiting for him at home.

Or rather, what isn’t.

Slowly, he realizes there is a comrade who sticks a little closer, that they linger after all the reports have been filed, sit next to him in the locker room. Their efforts pay off when his gaze begins to slide over to them increasingly often.

It’s a silent sort of companionship; the distant warmth of another shoulder or the soft clearing of a throat across the room.

Still, it anchors Kakashi a little on the worst of days. He lashes out at them sometimes, cutting words flung like kunai across a hallway when they stand a little close.

But they only smile in response and hope the fog in his brain lifts a little at the edges.

This house says my name like an elegy Oh my, oh my Echoing where my ghosts all used to be Oh my, oh my

Kakashi knows he can’t stay here. He sleeps in the barracks more often than his own bed already, which leaves plenty of fodder for gossip. But there are ghosts in the Hatake Estate and he is tired of trying to outrun them. No matter where he sleeps, they creep in between the crevices, the cracks in the wood.

Always find him.

So he shutters his childhood home, as if he is winterizing a vacation house. He has no plans to return to it, no reason to ever go back.

He finds a bare-bones apartment, a single room with space enough for a large bed. He needs it so the dogs will have a place to sleep when he summons them in the night, when the terror seizes his chest and he wakes clutching at a pounding heart, afraid he is about to die.

He knows he won’t, though; dying would be far too great a mercy for a man like Kakashi.

And he’s always received plenty of attention. Men and women offering to keep his bed warm by his side, to provide some much-needed relief on extended missions.

He turns most of them down. But the one he doesn’t is a mistake because this person knows him too well, knows when he is hiding. They’ve been standing too close for years and they keep looking at him.

Now they draw maps across his body with their teeth like they are marking him.

Like he is theirs even if they know he will never allow them such a claim.

It is a dangerous thing, Kakashi knows, to think you belong to another person.

Other people die. They break.

But they promise him they won’t—that they are strong enough to withstand whatever agony he might thrust upon them. It doesn’t stop him from trying, though. His words are cruel, his actions sometimes more so. But every time he returns from a mission, they crawl into bed beside him and allow him to take his fill without complaint.

They hold him afterward, kiss his temple, even though they know come morning, he will shove them away.

Kakashi doesn’t dream so much when he’s with them. It’s almost as if they know a secret for keeping the ghosts at bay.

There's still cobwebs in the corners And the backyard's full of bones Won't you stay with me, my darling When this house don't feel like home? When this house don't feel like home?

Despite his best efforts, the apartment never feels like home. In desperation, Kakashi returns to the Hatake Clan’s farmhouse searching for that feeling of belonging somewhere he has missed for so long.

The floors are dusty, the closest ruled by spiders, each room achingly empty.

He stands in the place where he found his father’s body, curls his toes against the tatami mats, so fresh and new compared to those around them. He knows if he lifts them up, there will be a dark stain in the wood beneath that he could never quite scrub out.

And he wonders if one day his fate might be the same. If he remains so untethered to his life, will he return here to find peace and purpose in a blade?

After he leaves the house, he takes an unfamiliar path through Konoha.

It is the first time he visits another person’s bed. Though their body is second nature to him, now, the surroundings are strange. It’s exhilarating and beautiful—like a vacation from his existence, even if it is only a single evening.

They are surprised when he climbs through the window. This person who has followed him for so long, waited patiently for him, given of themselves to him without receiving anything in kind—they jump when he steps onto their floor.

But in an instant, their shock fades to elation and then concern.

“Is everything okay?”

It isn’t, but he nods. “Fine,” he says, closing the distance slowly; like a predator. His gaze is intense, both pupils tracing the lines of their face as he approaches.

“How did you know where I live?”

He wants to laugh. Admit he’s known for years where to find them at any given moment; they are like a beacon—a landmark he cannot escape even when he wants to.

Kakashi isn’t sure he wants to anymore.

He never answers their question, knows that doing so would reveal too much of his own feelings. Instead, he squeezes the last centimeters of air from between their bodies and claims the feeling of belonging he has so desperately been searching for without remorse.

They are more than happy to oblige.

Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust The devil's after both of us Oh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of me

Kakashi should have known his penance would come in the form of flesh. The children assigned to him—the delicate lives balanced on his palms—reflect so acutely back at him.

Obito, Itachi, Minato-sensei, even Rin.

The ghosts are back, he realizes. He never should have expected to outrun them forever.

He throws himself forcibly into the role of teacher. He’s not very good at first, but he thinks he finds his footing eventually.

And after a long, cold while, there is warmth in his bed again—that same familiar person drawing maps. He tells them in a post-coital haze one night that he is cursed. That the eyes of Sasuke and Naruto, Sakura’s misplaced optimism, are his penitence for failing those who came before.

“That isn’t true,” they whisper, “you don’t owe anyone your contrition, not even the dead.”

He shrugs them off, then, even as they try to drag him back under the haze, under the blankets. But he showers instead, tells them gruffly they should be gone before he’s done.

They have never denied Kakashi anything he’s asked of them, and this time is no different.

When Kakashi walks back into the bedroom to find it empty—their clothes gone from the floor, shoes no longer by the door—he is disappointed.

As their scent fades in the cool night air, drifting lazily out his open window, Kakashi realizes he should have asked them to stay. Knows they would have if he had.

Maybe he is not cursed after all, he thinks, maybe he is the curse.

This tired old machine is a-rumbling Oh my, oh my Singing songs to the secrets behind my eye Oh my, oh my

He pushes them away. How could he not?

Kakashi has failed in every role he’s ever taken—student, commander, son, friend, sensei. How could he risk also falling short of lover?

It’s unfair, and so he stops playing coy with his distance. Instead of feigning disinterest, he shoves it at them. They arrive at his door and he slams it closed so quickly it hits their nose. He avoids their gaze when he sees their black eyes the next day, but they still wave at him. Still smile in his direction.

Subtle, heartfelt promises that everything is okay.

Kakashi does not understand why.

He wants to apologize, to hold their face between his hands and tell them it was an accident. Yes, he meant to close the door, but he was too distracted to realize they’d taken a step forward.

It’s just another example of his curses; everyone who gets close to him is lying unawares in the path of a tsunami. His disastrous lack will drown them one day.

They don’t mind treading water while they wait for him to be ready.

Kakashi watches Naruto disappear off with Jiraiya, pushes Sakura to train with Tsunade, and allows Gai to lose himself in his students. All while he himself retreats from the bonds he’s forged. He is cruel to his comrades so they will no longer invite him out for drinks after a mission. He keeps his window closed so no one will appear in it uninvited, asking if they can climb into bed next to him as they have countless times before.

And they recognize the distance for what it is—the grieving of a broken man—but they do not push. They watch him carefully from a distance, as they once did, content to keep a watchful eye out for any changes; to return to his side the moment he requires it.

Kakashi summons his ninken when he sleeps and they crowd around him, lie over his chest. It’s suffocating, but familiar. A comfort against the ceaseless darkness of his dreams.

The sharingan remembers everything it has ever seen, and it replays his failures in cruel clarity. Even those events for which he did not yet possess the eye seem to rewind themselves behind his lids as he sleeps, a blistering montage of the worst moments of his life.

There are someone else’s flowers on Rin’s grave. He sweeps them off and crushes the blooms underfoot.

Still, they bring more flowers and lay them over the stone. Say a prayer for the living as well as the dead.

All my aching bones are trembling And I may yet fall apart Won't you stay with me, my darling When the war starts in my heart? When the war starts in my heart?

Kakashi is prepared to die in the war. Part of him, he thinks, might welcome such a thing. The hope that he will not have to endure any more losses, that perhaps he can sacrifice himself to save the students he has failed so miserably, pushes him forward. Soothes his anxiety.

And so does the familiar whisper of a voice against his ear one evening as they prepare their battle plans.

The invitation he offers in return which is accepted.

They have waited so long for him to be ready and even if it’s only a brief moment, they leap at the opportunity.

Their body is warm and familiar, their teeth just as demanding and sharp as they have ever been. And Kakashi gives himself over to them, seeks his pleasure only distantly. What he really needs, tonight of all nights, is someone to hold him afterward; guard him against the approaching dawn.

He doesn’t say this, of course. Instead, his hands are rough and his voice level when he says, “Just this once. Just in case this is the end.”

“Of course,” they say, “this can’t happen again.”

He groans, pushing forward, forcing them down onto the mattress beneath him. They welcome his weight with a chorus of sighs, pulling him close.

Kakashi knows they are right—they both are. There are so many reasons this is a mistake. He does not need another person relying on him, cannot stand the idea of letting yet another precious person down. But their voice makes him shiver, and the way their hands smooth over his body so lovingly stirs something primal in him; some need to be cared for. To love.

They try to carve their affection into his skin—like the bruises and lines left by their nails might be enough to make Kakashi finally accept that he is worthy of them. They tell him how good it feels to be with him again and every word is a sacred truth.

Kakashi smothers the instinct to be soft and buries himself in lies as well as their body, takes what he can while giving so little it is a miracle they can take from him at all.

They find plenty to take for themselves, even if Kakashi does not realize it. He is more open here than anywhere else, more readable. Every word he’s never uttered with his mouth is said with his body, read clearly in his eyes. But they know he is not ready for the things he can’t say, so they keep those secrets closely guarded, even from their originator.

And after, they kiss his temple and run their fingers through his hair. He tells them he is a curse and they laugh, the sound vibrating against Kakashi’s ear from somewhere deep in their chest.

“If that’s true, Kakashi, then I’m happy to be cursed.”

They shouldn’t be, but he’s glad.

Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust The devil's after both of us Oh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of me

Kakashi reels in the weeks and months following the war. The revelation of Obito, the return of Sasuke, the near-death of Gai.

It’s all too much. He buries himself in rebuilding alliances, strengthening them. He does not want to be made Hokage, but he knows the other options are limited and some of them are offensive. Regardless, duty dictates he accept the position and so he does.

Besides, he thinks, it will give him purpose. And it is clear he cannot live without something like that. He knows without being a commander and a sensei over the preceding years, he likely would have returned to the room where his father died long ago to join him.

There is a familiar presence as he prepares for his inauguration. Almost imperceptible to anyone but him.

Always close, but never intruding. Ever supportive and available, but hardly seen or heard unless specifically requested.

The entire process of taking office is horrific—the false smiles and lavish dinners. It’s everything Kakashi has never wanted.

Once he’s officially Hokage, he buries himself in paperwork to avoid meeting dignitaries as often as possible. He works himself ragged just trying to keep his head above water. He can’t stop thinking it should be Obito, not him, wearing the robes.

He receives a visitor one evening, someone who knows that arriving unannounced on the wrong night will invite derision. But they do it anyway because it’s obvious how exhausted he is, how much he has denied himself the rest he needs.

The same person who watched Kakashi grind his teeth after Rin died watches him do the same beneath the heavy brim of the Rokudaime’s hat and they know they must intervene on his behalf.

“Hokage-sama?”

Their voice is like honey dripping into tea—smooth and sweet. When he looks up from the budget reports he’s been glaring at for half the day, Kakashi finds a familiar figure standing before his desk with takeout in hand.

“Did I request a meeting?” he asks, genuinely baffled and assuming he did but forgot about it.

They only let the apparent rebuff glance off one shoulder before they recover fully. “No, Sir, but I thought maybe you could use some company.”

It starts like that—begins again, really. They share late-night meals and swap conversation.

Slowly, Kakashi starts expecting their visits without feeling guilty for doing so.

And they, in turn, start looking forward to them without feeling selfish.

One night, they go home together. And then every night after, they do the same.

Kakashi watches his students forge their paths, find happiness in their families and fulfillment in their careers. He watches Sasuke make as many amends as he is able, and hopes that will be enough.

Gai recovers as well as he can and even a crippled leg cannot stop him from seeing only the best in the world around him; even the loss of Neji does not dull his enthusiasm for long. Because he has always known there are always other students to support, other friends in need of his boundless love.

Kakashi thinks for the first time maybe home does not have to be a place without ghosts. Maybe with enough help, he can learn to live amongst them.

Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust Tell me I am good enough Oh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of…

Us.

It’s a strange word, still; heavy and awkward on Kakashi’s tongue when he says it. But slowly growing more familiar as he uses it in his daily life.

“I’ll pick up groceries for us on the way home.”

“Gai invited us to dinner.”

“Naruto has asked us to watch Himawari.”

Every time he says something mundane about the life they have managed to build together, his partner beams. They know it has been a difficult road; that life handed Kakashi a harsh path to follow.

That he has done so and chosen them to remain at his side as he continues to brush the cobwebs of his past away from his periphery, is a feat worthy of every accolade. Never something to be taken for granted.

The house Kakashi grew up in slowly fills with new memories. And though the ghosts never truly leave, they quiet themselves a little. Perhaps that is because Gai’s voice is loud enough to drown them out, or maybe because there seems to always be a shoulder next to Kakashi’s radiating warmth instead of a deathly chill.

Either way, the house changes and he is glad he’s given it another chance.

As they lie next to Kakashi, they turn to look at him in the deepening dark.

“Do you still feel like you’re cursed?” they ask.

Kakashi isn’t sure how to answer. Doesn’t know for certain whether the curse of him could ever really be lifted.

But they are here, beside him, so even if it’s still there, it feels a little lighter.

He kisses their temple the way they do for him when he wakes from a nightmare. He never answers aloud, but they understand what he wants them to. And they are happy to spend the rest of their days proving to Kakashi Hatake that he is not a cursed man.

#lemony scribbles #kakashi hatake #gn!reader #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi angst #third person pov #angst #angst with a happy ending #song fic #tw depression #tw suicide mention #tw death #tw suggestive #it's not really a reader insert but work with me here okay a;ldskfjasfd

61 notes · View notes