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thelovelylolly · 9 months

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It Will Come Back

Summary: It can't be unlearned, I've known the warmth of your doorways... Warnings: mentions of injuries, blood, and violence, kinda hurt/comfort, reader is described as smaller/shorter than frank, let me know if i missed anything :) Word Count: ~1.9k Notes: first fic of 2024! first off, frank castle with a hozier song makes me go bonkers. second, my requests are open and my guidelines are in the pinned post so please send them in :)

You met Frank in a very unconventional way. You weren't able to sleep one night, your gut telling you something was going to happen, when he slumped against your window on the fire escape. You heard a thud and raced to your room, seeing a dark figure being lit only by the dim streetlights.

You considered the risk of letting him for a second, then crossed your room and opened the window. His body was limp, but he was awake as he fell back into your room. You tried your best to break his fall, but he was heavier than you anticipated. You both grunted as you pulled him all the way into your room and helped him into your nearby desk chair.

You gave him a once over as you closed your window, unsure if you were his saving grace or next victim. He was covered in blood, sweat, and bruises, so you guessed you were safe. He didn't seem as dangerous as he could be. You noticed his dark gaze and tensed body, even if he was injured. His nose stood out to you most, the one thing that made him seem familiar.

"Are you gonna just stand there and stare at me, or are you gonna help me?" He grumbled, groaning as he sat up more in his seat.

"Sorry," you replied softly. "What can I do?"

His gaze darted around your room, like he was trying to figure you out just from what you had in it. "You got a first-aid kit?"

You nodded and went to your bathroom, quickly returning with a first-aid kit in your hands. You turned the tall lamp next to your desk on before setting it down. Your turned back to him, getting a better look at him under the light. His dark hair matched his dark eyes and some of the dried blood on his face. He had some bruises already blooming on his face and a few cuts, nothing life threatening there.

You cleared your throat, stopping yourself from staring at him too long. You popped open the first-aid kit, hoping you had the things he needed. "Where are you hurt?"

"Got slashed pretty good on my left side," he answered, lifting his arm a bit to show you the cut in his clothes and skin.

You nodded and reached for the zipper on his black hoodie. "Can I take this off?"

"Mhm," he hummed.

You quickly unzipped it and pulled it off, careful not to irritate his cut or any other injuries he may have had. You dropped it onto the floor and grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up just enough to see the gash.

"Can you hold your shirt up for me?" You asked quietly. His hand replaced yours, holding his shirt up while you grabbed some of the gauze from the kit to press onto the bleeding cut. You used one of your hands to press the gauze and the other to grab the stitch kit you had inside the kit.

"Can I ask why you have a the stuff for stitches at the ready?" He asked as you got the needle and thread ready.

You laughed dryly. "Can I ask why you showed up at my window with a giant gash in your side and probably other injuries you're not gonna mention?"

"Fair," he replied, a tired smirk on his face.

"You want anything to numb the pain, or are you good? You seem like you've done this before," you said, surprised how easily you fell into this banter with him.

"I'm good, just do it," he grumbled.

You moved your gauze away, taking a deep breath to calm your shaky hands before starting his stitches. You heard every sharp inhale and long exhale as he took deep breaths to get through each stitch. His hand holding up his shirt gripped the fabric tightly, his knuckles turning white. You went as fast as you could without hurting him any further.

It felt like an hour, but in a few minutes, you were done. You tied the thread up and cut it, quickly placing the needle on your desk and grabbing more gauze to hold against it. You pressed the gauze with one hand again and grabbed gauze wrap with your other.

"Can you sit up please?" You asked, glancing up at him. He glanced down at you and held your gaze for a second before looking away and wordlessly sitting up.

You quickly wrapped the gauze wrap around his midsection and finished up, ignoring the way your face heated up when his gaze met yours. You grabbed the bloody gauze from earlier off the floor and put it with the needle you used before standing up.

"Anything else?"

He shook his head as he dropped his shirt back down. You quickly cleaned up the kit and tossed the used needle and gauze into your trashcan. You picked up his hoodie and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome," you replied with a soft smile. "You wanna crash on my couch? I don't think you should go anywhere far in your, uh, condition."

He nodded quietly. You helped him up and led him into your living room, letting him put some weight onto you as he walked. You lowered him onto the couch and he sat down with a sigh. You went into your small kitchen and got him a glass of water and some painkillers, setting it on the coffee table after walking back.

"Can I get your name?" You asked, sitting in the chair across from him.

He popped the pills into his mouth and downed them with the water. "Frank," he answered, setting his now half-empty glass down.

"Like...Frank Castle?"

Frank's gaze jumped to you, eyes a bit wide with surprise.

"That's why you look so familiar. I've seen you on the news and in the papers," you quickly add.

"Ah, thought you'd freak out on me and call the police," he replied, leaning back on your plush couch.

"I think...I don't agree with your, um, methods, but you're cleaning up the streets. Making it a bit safer for people like me to walk home at night, y'know?"

"Glad you see it that way..." He trailed off, waiting for you to give him your name. You did, and he echoed you, almost like testing it out.

"Well, I'm going to try to get some rest," you said as you stood up with a smile. "I think you deserve some. Goodnight, Frank."

"G'night."

------

Since then, you let Frank into your apartment late a night to stitch him up and let him sleep. It wasn't anything more than that. Sure, you two bantered or talked about random subjects, but it was mainly to distract each other from the blood or wound. You were just there to help him, and you two never crossed the unspoken boundary you both had. You silently agreed to be acquaintances, maybe friends.

Then Frank started to cross that.

He started to drop by earlier in the evening, no bruises or blood on him. He'd just show up at the window he always came in, and of course, you'd let him in. You were confused why he would show up this early and not hurt like usual, but you found it nice that he was there without the need to be sewn back up.

He'd come in for a bit, you'd give him a drink or offer him dinner, and you two would talk. You'd spend a long time talking, or sometimes just enjoying each other's company, until it got dark enough and he left to do his job. Sometimes, he'd come back in the early morning hours to get patched up. Other times, he wouldn't show up until the next day when he'd stop by to spend time with you.

Soon enough, you saw a slightly deeper version of him rather than the surface level one you met. He still had some things covered up, but he had revealed enough to cause you to start falling for him. You wanted to stop yourself so you wouldn't make things complicated, but you knew if he wanted to, he'd leave and never look back.

That's what scared you. Your feelings would be one sided and once he figured it out, he'd stop coming by just to hang out with you and eventually, stop coming by for you to patch him up. You didn't want him to leave any time soon, but you knew it could easily happen.

"Hey, you okay? You zoned out there," Frank asked, gently putting his hand on your shoulder to bring you out of your thoughts.

You looked over at him, who was sitting on the other side of the couch as you. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit tired."

"I can go if-"

"No, no, stay," you quickly say, cutting him off. "I, uh, I like your company."

You watched his cheeks and the tips of his ears turn a little pinker as he looked away from you. He ran a hand over his face, like he was trying to rub the blush from it. You looked away from him, playing with the hem of your shirt. You thought you had crossed a line and made him uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna get some water," you said quietly before getting up from the couch and going to the kitchen.

You quickly grabbed a glass and filled it up with water. As you drank it, you thought you'd hear Frank's heavy footsteps head to your bedroom and the window open. You thought you'd hear the sounds of Hell's Kitchen flood in through the open window as he left. Instead, you heard his footsteps approach you slowly.

You finished your drink and put your glass in the sink before turning around to face him. He wasn't very close, but in your small kitchen, it felt closer than it was.

"Why do you come here even when your not hurt and you don't need anything?" You asked, breaking the silence between you two.

Frank sighed. "'Cause you're...you. I don't know, I'm not good with words. But ever since you started to help me out, I...I wanna keep coming back to you. I think I fell in love with you or something because you keep pulling me back here."

You smiled softly at his confession. "I think I fell in love with you, too. I was just scared you were gonna leave if I said anything."

He smiled back, stepping closer and closer to you. A comfortable silence fell between you two. One of Frank's hands fell to your waist and the other tilted your face up to look at him. Your hands naturally wrapped around his neck, holding him close. Your eyes darted to his lips before meeting his eyes.

You caught his gaze dipping down before meeting yours again. You started to lean in and Frank met you halfway. When his lips met yours, the months of banter and drinks and dinners together made sense. He had quietly been telling you he cared about you, maybe even loved you, for so long.

You melted into the kiss and his touch, pulling him as close as you could. It was sweet and slow. You could tell from the way he held you and kissed you just how much he wanted this kiss, how much he wanted you.

When you pulled away, you both stayed close to each other, leaning your foreheads against each other. He brushed his nose against yours as you both smiled.

"I'm not gonna leave you, sweetheart. I will come back."

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher fanfic

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grippingbeskar · 1 year

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unearthed

chapter four - fitted

warnings— canon typical violence, swearing, a slow slow build up and it’s painful i hate it here.

a/n— thanks for all the support guys!!! i’m trying to get these up as quick as i can, because i feel like this will read better if it’s all done together but that’s okay!!! we will get there! also i didn’t realise how short this chapter was i’m sorry next one coming super fast i promise xx.

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“Can you just run me through it one more time?” You ask, eyes unsure of where to land. The man in front of you bites back a sigh, and you remind yourself to actually pay attention this time.

“All you have to do is walk up the stairs. You’ll kneel in front of the Armourer, and the King will stand at your side. She’ll say the phrases, and you repeat them.” You swallow, already having forgotten what you were supposed to say. “This is before you meet the King and say your offical vows.”

“Right. And that… that was happening in the…” He isn’t able to hold back his sigh this time, though he keeps himself in check The people here seem to respect you— or tolerate you enough that they’ve become accustomed to your presence.

“The greenhouse. It’s our most secluded area. It will be safe for him then, to reveal himself to you and intertwine the two halves of a whole that is your union.” You choke, spluttering the bottle of water you were sipping on.

“I’m— I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, you are in love. In Mandalorian custom, this is what is etched in the Old Way. You are to become part of his clan, in a more intimate way than anyone ever will.” Love. Stars fucking help you.

“And he agreed to… that?”

“It is expected.” The man finishes, and your mind freezes up like you’ve down a glass of blue milk too quick. “Are you alright, my lady?”

“Yeah! Yep. Super… that’s all— so great! Very much in love. I actually have to— go. I have to go and do something. I’ll be back—“ You were basically running now, despite the man’s protests, the door shutting behind you when you were already halfway down the hall.

It was too much.

Tomorrow, you’d be marrying him— joining a way of life you knew frighteningly little about, and now you were just supposed to… to see him? With anyone else, it would of been the first thing you’d done, but with him it feels like a way bigger deal. You know it is. You can’t help but feel like an imposter… like you’re stealing something from him he clearly does not want to give. Something that should belong to someone he truely cared about… not part of some contract.

The way he talked about it that day in the city, as brief as the conversation was, you could tell he cared. You hardly knew him, but you could read him better now. He actually wasn’t that hard to understand once you’d watched him for a little— his body language betrayed him too often. You imagined under that helmet he made all kinds of faces, unable to hide the emotion that you almost knew flashed across it.

It was hard not to think of what was under there. Often. Too often to be simple curiosity.

When you finally see the door to your room, you were about ready to pass out, but a giant shiny metal blockade slammed into you just as you rounded the corner.

“Fucking hell!” You shout, your palm flying to your now throbbing head. “I swear I’m gonna get you a bell or something. Stars.”

He laughs quickly, the sound soothing the ache in your head, but it’s gone too soon. When you come to, your eyes opening, it’s a sight for sore eyes. The gentle stream of moonlight coming from the hallway bathes the silver armour in a soft white, the beskar lined floors twinkling like stars.

“I was looking for you. You need to come with me— the Armourer wants to see you.” You try not to groan, your eyes closing again. “She needs to choose your armour. For tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Your wedding day. And induction into the way of the Mandalorian. Of course. That.

“Right— okay, I can… let’s go. Lead the way.” You sigh, going to take a step. He surprises you when he reaches out, gentle hands wrapping around your wrists.

The gesture stops you in your tracks, breath catching in your lungs. He scans you, helmet moving slowly across your features while his hands bring your own away from your face. The exhaustion you were just feeling seems to seep out of you the longer his attention is undivided on your eyes, adrenaline rushing to your heart.

He was so overwhelming. He took up every tiny space in your vision and your mind when he was looking at you. It was impossible to think straight around him. You were too busy thinking of… of the way his hands were tight but gentle, something you could easily get out of if you wanted to. You also think about how you… don’t want to get out of his hold. Not anytime soon.

“How long has it been since you slept?” He asks, his voice as gentle as his hands holding you in place.

“Do I look that bad?” You try to joke, and his head just tilts. It’s not one of his ‘okay, you got me there’ head tilts either. No, this one is more… calculating. Systematic. Not very fun. “I don’t know— I just got up early this morning. We’re getting married tomorrow, and apparently there’s a lot more planning involved than I thought.”

“You don’t sleep well here.” He was still holding you. You flexed your fingers, knuckles brushing lightly against the cool chest plate of his hard armour. “These past few weeks, you haven’t slept.”

“I have! I just…” Your shoulders sag, but you manage to keep looking into the black lines of his helmet. It was weird to think his eyes were right under there. “I don’t sleep well anywhere. It’s not just Mandalore. Scouts Honour.”

“I don’t know what that is.” You laugh, and somehow a small conversation with him wakes you up enough to snark back.

“Yeah. Hard to imagine you as a Boy Scout.” He says nothing about how he knows you haven’t slept, but instead holds you there for just a second longer. In the silence, you try to imagine what he’s thinking.

If he wasn’t buried under a helmet, you would think this was a move. A way to pull you closer, hands at his chest, so he could easily lean down to kiss you. But him being…him, he must just really be examining you. Studying you.

Your palms were sweating a little, and he finally lets you go, air whooshing back into your body when he steps away.

“We’ll be quick.” He says simply, leading you towards the end of the hall. You shuffle behind him, your fingers wrapping around the small part of your wrist where his gloves held you. The skin tingles, and you shove your hands in your pockets after that, refusing to look at them.

Din watched you. He found himself doing that a lot these days. You stick to the edge of the room, not nervous or intimidated, but it’s like you were trying to respect the space.

The Armorer had managed to get the Forge looking in some what good condition— at the very least, she was back to what she did best. Making armour that would protect the next generation of Mandalore.

“Din Djarin. You have what I requested?” She speaks, and you watch curiously, taking a step forward as he hands over a stack of beskar ingots. The choice was clear— if you were going to stand with him, you’d be in nothing but the best of what he had to offer.

When the Armourer calls your name, you step forward, your eyes flitting between the giant metal sphere of the Forge and the stack of beskar Din just handed over.

“You are to take the helm. To join Din Djarin as a part of his clan. Do you accept the offer presented?” She asks, her voice the same monotone it always it. When he looks back to you, you weren’t focused on any of the parts of the room. No, you were staring straight at him.

“Din Djarin.” You try the words out in your tongue. He never told you his name. Something sinks in his gut at that, and the fact that you never asked. “I’ve never heard a name like that before.”

“Do you accept?” The Armorer repeats, and you finally look away. He can’t help but feel confused— the way his gut twists and his hands clench even at the memory of the way you say his name. He wants to hear you more— wants to ask you questions like you do to him so freely. Instead, he stays quiet.

“Yeah— yes. I accept.” You say the last part as a question, looking to him. When he nods, you repeat it more firm. The confidence clings to you well. It suits you.

As the Armourer works, he remembers what his people were saying about you in the city. How you were fitting to the planet so well, it’s like you were born here. You had a way to never seem out of place— not like he was when he first came. Everything that took him so long to figure out, you navigated with ease.

They were right. It did suit you— the planet, the beskar… everything.

They were right about something else, too. The part Din conveniently left out when you asked him what he’d heard through the helmets’ receiver. Those women in the city… they couldn’t stop speaking of how beautiful you were.

Din swallowed. Of course he’d… noticed. It was impossible not to. You were a princess— now a Queen, always dressed in glowing colours, your hair flowing freely, a wild look about you like you’d just as easily spend your days navigating Hoth as you did sorting paperwork.

When he’d first seen you, his mouth had gone dry. He thought it was because he knew what was to come— the inevitable marriage, the closeness that would ensue. But looking at you now, being fitting into pauldrons of armour, he realised it may not be the dresses or the winning royal decor— it might just be because those women were right. You were beautiful.

“This is the Way.” The Armourer recites, and takes back the pieces of beskar to place them in the Forge. “The suit will be ready for tomorrow.”

Din nods, his chest tight at the reality. Tomorrow, you would be his wife. He’d bring you into his clan, a part of his planet, potentially tying himself to you for the rest of his life.

He turned and left the room without another word.

You were pacing. The small balcony attached to your room didn’t allow you a lot of room to move, but you needed to get this nervous energy out.

You’d already holo’ed Kaylen, four times in the past hour, and as many times as she’d offered the best advice she could, there was only so much she could do. No matter how many well placed words she chimed down the line, you were still getting married tomorrow.

It was stupid. You’d pictured this day— all kinds of ways, really. A practical part of you had imagined something like this. Alone, a man you couldn’t put a face to, just as reluctant as you are standing at the end of the isle. You knew it was coming, but a part of you was still holding onto that stupidly fragile sliver of hope that you’d marry someone you…loved.

It wasn’t that you were upset about who you were marrying, though. Just the circumstances. In fact, the past few weeks have made you think that in another world, where you were given the time, you could even see yourself growing to like… Din.

Din. That was his name. Another part of the mystery unfurled. When the Armorer had called it out, a thrill rushed through you, and you’d felt like you’d been let in on some giant secret. You weren’t going to ask— not that you didn’t want to know, but it was more about the conversation you had with him on that first day. To give his heart was to give his trust. He was already giving up so much of himself when he clearly didn’t want to. His name was his, and it would come when he was ready. Or, apparently, when the Armourer was ready.

Just as you were going to crawl back inside and attempt to get some sleep, a familiar voice called you out. When your head shot around, you couldn’t see him straight away, and you could not believe he’d snuck up on you again. But where the hell was he—

He called your name again, and you looked up and to the right.

“What the fuck?” Your eyes widened, seeing him lean over a much larger balcony, helmet tilted to the side. “How long have you been up there?”

“I live here.” You sigh loudly.

“Right...”

“You still aren’t sleeping.” He says, something in his voice making you feel the same way as when he was holding your wrists in the corridor.

That’s how he knew.

“You’ve been watching me?”

“I could hear you pacing.” The helmet tilts to the other side, every one of his movements slow and calm.

“Sorry.” You look outwards, the dark midnight of the planet obscuring the entire city. It was almost impossible to see any of the swirling stars and expanding buildings from here. The only person you could see was Din.

“Don't apologise. I was already awake.” You laugh tiredly at that, looking back up to him. “Are you still…okay, going through with this?”

“Scared I’m going to leave you at the altar?” The quiet response you don’t receive makes you feel a little guilty. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

He shifts on his feet. Even this far away you can read his body language. How his hands clench at his sides, his legs stand straight and boots turned inwards, like he's preparing for a hit that won't come. It nearly makes you smile. Another little bit of mystery unfolded for your eyes only.

“I was meaning to tell you. I heard back from my friend in the Outer Rim. She may be able to tell you about some of the serial codes if you can identify the droids. We would have go to her, though. She doesn’t travel much. And she's paranoid about working with me over comms.” You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, and you feel entirely selfish.

Of course. Your parents. The droids that your father was interested in. You’d been swept up in it— in him. He was taking every slice of your attention, occupying every inch of your mind, there’d been moments where you’d forgotten your purpose here.

“Of course! When can we go?!” You are suddenly wide awake, leaning over the railing and stretching to look up at him.

“We could tomorrow, after the… ceremony. We have time before things are settled. We could see if there’s a lead. When you return to your home, you follow it and report back. Once we have numbers, I’ll talk to Bo-Katan.” Stars— real hope was building in your chest, and it was all thanks to him.

“Thankyou, Din. You don’t… you don’t know how much that means to me.” You’d been searching what felt like your entire short reign for something… anything that could lead you to your parents murderers. The New Republic scrapped anything related to the Empire, and anyone that knew anything was definitely not going to speak to a new ruler of a powerful planet. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“If you do what you said you would— help my people recover what we have lost, there’s no debt.” With the short words, he turns around, and you lose sight of the face of the helmet you’d started to actually like. “Try to sleep.”

“Yeah…” You fade off as he disappears, something in your heart telling you to call after him.

You don’t know why. There’s nothing left to say. He’s doing exactly what he said, and there’s no reason to continue this very professional conversation—

“One more thing.” He calls, and you nearly trip yourself with how fast you turn back around. “It would be good if we keep this trip between us. People can get… uncomfortable, with Empire technology. We don’t want to spook anyone with information off.”

“Sounds like a plan, Din Djarin.” He keeps staring down at you, helmet masked in the dim light of the planets moons.

“You keep saying my name.” He says it, but it doesn't sound like he's angry. Almost like he just wants to know why.

“I’m planning to wear it out, considering how much you wanted to keep it from me.” Even from a level up, you can hear him breathe out— and then he laughs. Just once, and the sound makes you stand up on your toes, like you’re leaning towards it.

“Goodnight.” He says, then disappears, the lock of his door sounding obnoxiously loud.

You wanted to ask him more questions. Listen to his voice— the low, vibrating tone of it soothing your screaming thoughts. He was right, of course. You knew first hand how quickly people shut down when being questioned on old tech. Only, people knew your face, and would dismiss your questions.

But now you had something; someone new on your side. And not a single person in the galaxy knew he was coming but you.

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strawberry-cowmilk · 2 years

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could i request the brothers with an mc who has trouble sleeping at night thanks to anxiety that causes them the fear of someone being in the room like under the bed or in the closet? mc has stated that they like to go to sleep early so they can fall asleep before the brothers do because they bring them comfort and make them feel safe enough to sleep without worry. they also want one of the brothers to sleep with them but just dont know how to ask because it might seem like a childish fear to demons especially.

unsure if i worded this correctly or made any spelling mistakes, im currently sleep deprived but wanted to request because i love your work! sorry!

Hi, anon! I'm one to talk but please make sure you get enough sleep. Also I'm super glad to hear you like my work! I hope you like this one as well!

the brothers with a mc who has trouble sleeping

-> brothers x mc

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: sleeping issues, implied irrational fears

-----

Lucifer

he's very observant, he noticed you might have trouble sleeping pretty fast, like you didn't seem well-rested in the morning

lucifer asks you about it, he's not going to judge you if you tell him the truth, but he also respects your choice to keep it to yourself

regardless of what you say, lucifer is going to stay with you a couple of nights to see if that makes you feel better,

if yes, he's now your personal sleeping buddy, lucifer even stops working earlier so he can be with you when you fall asleep

Mammon

you often fell asleep before mammon around him, for example, you could be watching silly videos on deviltube in his room and you'd fall asleep on the couch

mammon liked this (but would never admit it), until he saw that your quality of sleep is sometimes worse when you're alone

he's going to help his human, he makes up some crazy excuse every night just so he can stay with you

'mc, my car leaked oil on the floor and it's real bad, that's why I gotta stay in your room for a week'

Leviathan

levi himself tends to stay up until late in the night because of games and anime, which leaves him pretty tired the next morning

he just assumed you have been doing the same in your room when you show up looking tired at breakfast

eventually you ask him to spend a couple of nights together, levi almost passes out but agrees

and what do you know? both of your sleeping cycles gradually improve

Satan

he connected the dots: you fall asleep relatively early, seem more at ease around him and get better sleep than when you're alone

satan got the feeling you were afraid of something, so he straight up asked you, if you tell him, he'll reassure you it's nothing to be embarrassed about

if you want, you're welcome to spend every night in his room, satan will clean the place up a bit and read you books to help you fall asleep

Asmodeus

asmo is probably the brother with the healthiest sleeping habits, he goes to sleep at a reasonable time and gets the proper amount of hours of sleep

you'd have to go to bed quite early if you want to fall asleep before him, though, this is when asmo realised something wasn't right

if you tell him, he won't think it's childish or anything, in fact, asmo is no stranger to irrational fears himself

he'd gladly sleep next to you, he'll even hold you if you want

Beelzebub

he knows what it's like to miss out on a proper night of sleep, and he'd notice the signs

beel wants to know if he can help you, he asks you if you're okay and if you need anything to help you sleep

when you confess to him it would really help if he stayed close to you, beel will be in your room every night

if you tell beel what's bothering you, he's prepared to check the bed and closet if that helps you calm down

Belphegor

belphie sleeps a lot, and often invites you to take a nap with him

he notices you seem way calmer and well-rested after a night of sleep or nap with him than when you're alone

belphie doesn't ask you about it, he just assumes there's something you're scared of and doesn't bring it up

but he will now be by your side every night, using his powers to give you nice dreams

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me swd #obey me imagines #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #gn!mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #belphegor obey me #beelzebub obey me #tw insomnia

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goodomensafterdark · 8 months

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Writers Guild Cock Fight - Give ourselves one more chance

Summary:

Written by Niknak90 for the GOAD smut war - find them on Reddit and AO3!

TL;DR for chapter 1: they have sex for the first time in the Bentley after the wall slam, but Crowley miracles them "back to business" after, making Aziraphale (and the readers, and the author) very sad.

Chapter 2: The world doesn't end. Crowley invites Aziraphale back to his place, unsure where they stand now. They end up standing (and kneeling) in his shower. Eventually, they get their happy ending (in multiple senses of the word).

Word count: 5070 words for chapter 2

Trigger/Content Warnings: The Night At Crowley's Flat, Shower Sex, Blowjobs, Edging/Orgasm Delay, Crowley POV, Mentions of past Crowley/Humans, Anal Sex, Angst and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Top Crowley/Bottom Aziraphale

Excerpt:

“There is no way I’m giving you my body in this state, angel.” Crowley said, realizing how suggestive that sounded only after he said it. “You might have a shiny new corporation from the Antichrist’s little miracle, but mine has seen better days. I need a good hot shower to get this soot off me.” He could miracle himself clean, but like sleep, he enjoyed indulging in showers and the occasional bath.

“Not a bad idea. Perhaps I could join you?” Aziraphale smiled, wiggled a bit, and placed his hand on Crowley’s thigh.

“That’s not too fast?” Crowley asked. He had to be sure that Aziraphale wanted this, that he wouldn’t get spooked and dump him again the next day.

“You did say if stopping Armageddon worked out, we might be able to do it again.” Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s thigh and looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “And I would like that very much.”

“And you won’t…you won’t say ‘it’s over’ again tomorrow?” Crowley asked quietly. He tried to keep his breath steady as the angel’s touch seemed to burn through his trousers, but was failing miserably. He put his hand over Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale shook his head. “I said I was sorry, my dear. I got scared, wanted to keep us safe.” He reached for Crowley’s glasses and removed them, then placed a hand on his cheek. “But if this works, if we survive this…I see no reason to stay apart.” He kissed Crowley briefly, too briefly (then again, would any kiss ever feel long enough?). “And I would very much like to continue exploring our physical relationship. If you’re amenable, that is.”

“Oh, I’m very amenable, angel,” he rasped, then kissed him again. He was quickly becoming addicted to this. Kissing in his previous encounters, when it occurred at all, was at most a perfunctory precursor to the act. Kissing Aziraphale felt like finding an oasis in the desert, and if he drowned in it after centuries of thirst, it would be worth it. Even if Aziraphale changed his mind and “only” wanted to kiss from now on, Crowley would be a very happy demon. Possibly the happiest demon, seeing as demons weren’t generally supposed to experience happiness.

Unfortunately, he needed his mouth unoccupied to finish his thought, so he broke the kiss. “Might need a minute though. In the shower. Before you join me. Get properly clean, burn my skin off.” He liked his showers hellishly hot, which he suspected the angel would find more punishing than soothing. “Then I’ll cool it back down and call you in. Sound good?”

Aziraphale agreed, and Crowley miracled away his dirty clothes, leaving himself in just a towel around his waist. He could feel the angel’s eyes on him as he walked away, like he was the ox in Job’s basement.

Read more here Apex Pest Control

#rodents #bedbugs #pest control

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tartglias · 4 years

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General relationship headcanons with genshin boys

“Since it's open, what about general headcanons for the boys? ;0 like what's it like to be with them for a headstart :D”

i was originally going to make six characters, then five, but then i accidentally deleted th draft and had to start all over again. i already feel bad for posting late so i’m sorry it’s just four and not five :( i’ll probably make a part 2 of these soon!!

characters: diluc, kaeya, scaramouche and xiao

Diluc

The beginning of the relationship was slow, painfully slow. So slow that a certain bard and the one and only Cavalry Captain had to step up, since neither of you would make the first step. Both of you were too scared of rejection, so you decided to swallow your feelings and “face” reality.

A few pick up lines over here, a jealousy scene over there, and the result was a very angry and flustered Diluc taking your hand and leading you upstairs for some privacy. It was then and there when he confessed his feelings for you, a sigh of relief leaving him when you reciprocated.

Both of you are private people, so you decided that keeping the relationship away from the public eye would be the best option. Sure, affection was reduced to an extent but that doesn’t mean that the relationship lacks love!

Affection in public meant exchanging soft glances and shy smiles from across the room, interlocking of pinkies and stealing kisses when nobody was looking. Very rarely, when he was feeling wild and desperate, he would drag you to somewhere secluded and push you (gently) to the nearest wall, caging you in between his arms as you wrapped your hands around his waist. Then, he kissed you slow and passionately.

Behind closed doors, the story was different. There wasn’t a single moment in which his hands weren’t touching your skin, or your hands weren’t playing with his hair as you kissed him passionately to compensate for the lost time. A kiss here, a kiss there. Again and again. A kiss for every hour you couldn’t spend together.

You found out about Diluc’s nightly activities rather quickly. It happened on a night in which he came back home slightly injured and breathless. When you questioned him, he simply said that some treasure hoarders ambushed him, but you knew he was lying. You could tell. Diluc soon realized there was no point in lying to you, so he told you his identity as the Darknight Hero.

Overall, your relationship may have started in a messy way, Diluc sometimes wishes he could have confessed in a different and more appropiate way. Your relationship may also be quiet, but quiet doesn’t mean that it lacks love. You both spend late nights and mornings in each others arms whispering sweet nothings. And your relationship may be scary at times, you often feared that he wont come back home one day. But you also know he always does, and you trust him every moment of the day. And he feels the same way. He doesn’t trust people easily, he rarely lets people in. But you are different, you make him feel different. He trusts you more than anything in the world.

Kaeya

It was no secret that Kaeya was a flirt. A few compliments over here, a charming smile over there and that was basically the formula to have most people in Mondstadt wrapped around his finger. Most people... except you. With a shy smile and an evident blush on your cheeks you were always fast to dismiss it and laugh it off. “You shouldn’t go saying those things” you used to say.

It started with a desire to make you swoon, it was like a goal for him. But eventually, he caught feelings and you were the one who made him swoon. So one day, he had enough. He wanted to confess and tell you how he actually feels.

And so he did, yet somehow you still thought it was a joke. “Kaeya you can’t say those things as a joke... someone will actually fall for it” you said, looking down at your feet as your heart started beating faster and faster by second. “I’m not joking, y/n. That’s how I truly and deeply feel about you” he said, taking your hand and placing it on his chest so you could feel how fast his heart was beating as well.

The closest word to describe your relationship with Kaeya would be that it was like an adventure, interesting and fun. You’re bored? He would take you to explore interesting (and safe) places he encountered while on his commissions. You’re sad? Nothing like him dragging you to the very top of the Cathedral and hugging you close to him as you both watch the sunset wouldn’t solve.

Kaeya’s kisses can be either quick or desperate and hungry, yet passionate. The first case usually happened whenever you two were in public, though he doesn’t have a problem with PDA. If it were up to him, he would spend every second of the day kissing you. But you’re both busy people so most times one of you is in a hurry. The second case happens when either one of you come home after a long day. It starts slow, maybe a few pecks here and there, but soon enough he picks up the pace. One hand around your waist, keeping you close to his body, and his other hand on your face, deepening the kiss. It always leaves you breathless, and he takes those few seconds you take to catch air to kiss your jaw and neck. He loves you and your body, he could spend a lifetime worshipping it.

Insecurity was somewhat a problem in the relationship, from both sides. On his side, he sometimes worried that you would get tired of him and slip away, just like most people in his life. And on your side, you feared that he would find someone who was braver, prettier and more skilled than you. But at the end of the day, even if there were times in which you argued over this problem, you both would always come home to each other. Nights would be spent in each other’s arms, constantly reassuring each other that you’re both here to stay.

Overall, dating Kaeya isn’t easy. You knew this the moment you both confessed. But it is worth it, no one makes you feel like he does, no one makes you swoon and laugh like him. And no one, and I mean, not a single person in Teyvat, could make Kaeya happier.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche was angry, to say the least. How dare you, a fellow Fatui Harbinger who he had to see almost daily, make his heart beat fast and legs shake? Why was he feeling like this? So stupid?

He thought your confession was part of a game, a dare. He saw you laughing with Childe a few moments before, and not that he would ever admit it, in fact he would rather lose his Vision and die than admit it, but he was a little bit jealous of the scene. He wanted to make you laugh like that, he wanted to make you blush and he wanted to have your heart. The moment you confessed, he was angry. He was sure it was a dare and Childe’s plan to make fun of him, but he quickly regretted it once he saw your sad face. “No, leave” he had said. Your shy smile dropped instantly and you slowly nodded, turning around and starting to walk away. His mouth opened before he could actually stop and think of what to do. “Do you mean it?” he asked. “Do you actually like me? It’s not a dare?” “Why would it be a dare? Scaramouche, I’ve liked you for a while now, everyone knows but you” you said, facing him once again only to find him trying to hide away the strong blush on his face. “Then... I think I like you too” he said, not daring to look at you.

Scaramouche was a harsh and jealous lover, he wanted you for himself. Fights were normal in your relationship, words without real meaning would be thrown at each other all the time. Yet, neither of you walked away. Neither of you verbally apologized for the harsh words either, but instead, you would let your actions apologize for you. Normal fights would be due to his jealousy, you spending a little too much time with Childe or other Harbingers for his liking. Yes, he knows you love him and yes, he knows that he is better than everyone else there. But he also knows he’s not the most liked person among the Fatui, and often worried that you would soon agree with people who said that. After taking a deep breath of air, you would drag him to bed and hold him close to you. His arms around your waist as he snuggled closer to you and buried his face on your neck. You hold him for a few hours while whispering soft promises of love and endless praise, reassuring him that you are not going anywhere anytime soon. “Don’t worry, you’ll have to put up with me for a long, long while” you whispered as you kissed his forehead. “I wouldn’t have it any other way” he whispered back.

Contrary to popular belief and also to his personality, his kisses are soft and unsure. He doesn’t have a lot of experience in this area, so his kisses tend to be short yet soft. Mostly in private as well, since he would rather die than let his underlings see this side of him. He would wrap his arms around your waist, probably as he makes a teasing comment about how desperate you are or how much you probably missed him, and then kissed your lips. He is fascinated by the way your lips feel against his, he gets drunk by the feeling.

Overall, your relationship with Scaramouche is wild, to say the least. One moment you’re yelling at each other, ready to fight and the next one you’re holding him close as he whispered protection promises and kissed your neck. But despite all the problems you both encountered, you’re always there for each other. You rely on him and he relies on you, and that’s enough.

Xiao

“What’s this?” He asked you as you slowly pulled away from him. “A kiss” “Disgusting. Do it again” He said, pulling you back to him with one hand as the other rested on your waist. You smiled through the kiss, and he felt like all his pain and karma vanished. After a while, you pulled away. “Again” he said, chasing your lips before crashing them with his in another soft yet desperate kiss. You giggled and pulled away. “I need to breathe” you said, chuckling at sight of his lips pouting. “Why”

The first time you met, he saved you from treasure hoarders. But before you could thank him, he disappeared. You didn’t know who your savior was, so you tried your best to remember the mask that was on his face. You didn’t see him again, until you found yourself in Wantshu Inn after a long day of commissions far away from your home in Liyue Harbor. You needed rest, but the clear night and stars were calling for you, and before you noticed you were at the top floor of the inn. That’s where you saw him, and for reasons he doesn’t understand, he didn’t leave. He remained sat on the floor, looking at the sky as his legs were hanging from the edge. “Isn’t it pretty? I barely see stars as clear as these back home” you said to the stranger from a close yet appropriate distance. He didn’t reply, he didn’t look at you, but he knew who you were. He remembered you from the time he saved you. Next thing you noticed was the mask that was on the floor next to him. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped. “You’re... the one who saved me” you said, shock flooding your face. He rolled his eyes in response, can’t he be left alone? “I never got to thank you so... thank you” you simply said, a soft expression replacing your shocked one.

You started dropping by Wangshu Inn a bit more often, whenever your time and commissions allowed you too. And every time you brought different kinds of foods to offer to Xiao, no one ever telling you that his favorite was Almond Tofu. He found it annoying at first, but soon enough got used to it. The day you brought Almond Tofu though, he almost smiled. Almost. His expressions as he ate the offering didn’t go unnoticed by you, and quickly learnt that it was his favorite.

After a while he started looking forward to your visits, but if someone ever asked him about it, he would just say it wasn’t because of you, it was for the almond tofu offering. You started spending more time with him, even though he barely opened his mouth and you did all the talking. He found you amusing, truly. Something about you, made him feel funny inside. And that scared him.

Your relationship started with a kiss. “Again” he would say. “Again” he would repeat whenever you broke away to breathe. This was new to him, and he knew it was wrong since he is who he is and could harm you at any second, but he was addicted. He was addicted to your kisses, to your touches. He got drunk by the feeling you gave him, not wanting to ever let go. “Let go, let go of them. You’ll only harm them” he kept repeating to himself in his mind, but his body moved by itself, pulling you closer to him. He was addicted, and he knew it was bad.

There weren’t many arguments in your relationship, maybe a few over you taking dangerous commissions, but other than that it was full of affection. Affection used to be a strange concept for Xiao, who once was determined that it’s better for everyone if he stayed away. But then you appeared, and no one ever made him feel the way you did. He started yearning for your touches and he looked forward to you coming back to him so he could kiss you. You were better than any medicine Zonghli could ever give him, you made his pain ease. And as you were wrapped in his arms watching the stars at the top floor of the Inn, he made a promise. A promise of protection and love, he would never let anyone or anything harm you, and even if you die of old age he would still love you for centuries to come, and he will find you again in your next life.

Overall, your relationship with Xiao started slowly, but soon grew more and more with each passing day. He trusts you almost as much as he trusts Rex Lapis, and he would always watch you closely whenever you go out on a commissions. How did you get so lucky?

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radiant-reid · 3 years

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Touched starved

It was no secret this case had been extra hard on Spencer. Even Y/n, the newest member of the team, knew some bad things happened when he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankel. Most of the details were covered up though.

Spencer didn’t talk about it much. Only a few words when he felt strong enough. With having only been at the BAU for two years Y/n knew the least of what happened.

Then again, she was a profiler. She could tell this case was having a more-than-usual bad effect on Spencer.

It was because of the parallels, she figured. This unsub had been kidnapping and torturing victims. Having to solve it and, more importantly, knowing there was someone out there just like him, was hard on Spencer.

His brain almost didn’t work as it ran constant flashbacks of what Hankel did to him. Like a horror movie with no ending.

Everyone noticed, not just Y/n.

She just didn’t understand why they wouldn’t help him. They were all far closer to him than Y/n was. Prentiss, Morgan and JJ didn’t seem to be doing anything to help him but Y/n just felt like she couldn’t let him suffer in silence. She knew Garcia had tried to ask him how he was on the phone but there was only so much she could do from so far away. It wasn’t any of the team's fault though, they knew how Spencer operated.

That was how she found herself outside his hotel room on the 3rd night of the case. After seeing his condition slowly deteriorate throughout the hours they’d been on the case, she couldn’t just sit by. So dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, she knocked on his door.

“Y/n... what are you doing here?” Spencer asked as he opened the door to see who it was. It was very obvious that in the 4 hours since Hotch had sent them to get some rest, Spencer had not slept a second.

“I...” Y/n didn’t actually know how to answer his question. Instead, she just walked into his hotel room which caused him a lot of confusion. The puzzled look on his face didn’t stop. “I’m here for you, Spence.” She told him as she sat on his bed.

“Obviously, you’re in my room but I don’t understand why.” He replied. His brows were furrowed and his arms crossed across his chest. At least he’d changed into a hoodie and pants. Y/n didn’t think she’d ever seen him in a hoodie.

“Come here.” She instructed and he obliged, walking over to her so he was at the foot of the bed. “I’m here so you can have someone to talk to. Or not to talk to.” She explained. He still, very obviously, didn’t understand. “You haven’t stopped working on this case for almost 72 hours straight, that’s unhealthy. Now, you’re going to relax and just stop thinking about it.”

Spencer huffed out a sigh. “I can’t just stop thinking about it.”

“Why?”

“There’s someone out there who can’t stop thinking about it. He’s scared, terrified. And he’s just hoping that we can save him. But everything is telling him that there’s no one left. That they’re going to get there and be left with just his body.” Spencer hunched over as he talked, feeling as small as he looked. Tears were forming in his eyes and he was desperately fighting them. “I can’t stop working on this because we need to find out where he is. I can’t stop working on this because he can’t stop thinking about it. He’s living through the torture but he’s going to give up and want to give in to death.”

“What happened, Spencer?” Y/n softly asked as the tears started spilling down his cheeks.

He just stood there blankly. “I can’t.” He sobbed out.

Y/n knew about his aversion to hugs but she pulled him in for one, wrapping her arms around his slender waist. To her surprise, he leant into the embrace.

They stayed like that for a while before she pulled back, picking up his hand. She moved back so she was sitting against the headboard and pulled Spencer over, patting her lap. He didn’t even give a second thought to lay his head on her lap. His brain could almost stop spinning as he laid there.

Y/n moved her hand to his hair, threading it through her fingers. It was remarkably soft and fluffy.

“What happened to you, Spence?” She asked him again.

With tears still streaming out his eyes he could answer. “It hurt so much, Y/n. He wouldn’t stop it, no matter how much I begged. I was so helpless there.” He choked out, in a broken sentence due to his heavy breathing.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.” Y/n comforted again. She tested out the boundaries by running her hand over his cheek and when he leant into her hand she continued to brush the tears off his cheek. “Let it all out.”

“I couldn’t do anything!” Spencer cried. It was the most painful sound she’d ever heard. Someone so composed and always perfect falling apart. He was broken. “I just sat there while he beat me. I can still feel it. When I close my eyes sometimes I see him. It’s so stupid because I know, scientifically, I’m experiencing PTSD but sometimes I feel all the walls coming down on me.”

Y/n’s heart broke for him. “Spencer, it’s not stupid.” He cried even harder at that.

“I just need to crack the case and save him, Y/n. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.”

Y/n moved her hand to rub his back. “I know you feel that way.” She didn’t really know what to say to comfort him. He was so often the one helping everyone else out.

“I feel so silly for still being scared too.” He mentioned.

“Oh, Spence, it’s okay. Hankel is dead and you’re safe now.” She soothed him, still rubbing circles in his back.

He was still bawling his eyes out, feeling unbearable sadness. “I know that. But I still see him and I can still remember every second of it.”

“You didn’t deserve any of that.” She told him firmly. “He was sick, I know you know that. You went through the worst things imaginable and you’re so strong.”

He lightly nodded. “Will it get better?”

“Yes, if you keep talking about it. To anyone. JJ?” Y/n suggested.

“I like talking to you.” He mentioned it, quieter than before. Y/n could finally smile at that. Despite everything, Spencer was still so kind.

“Good.” She told him as she moved her hand back to his hair. “I could see it was getting to you. With all the similarities in him drugging and abusing his victims. I can’t imagine what you went through but I’m so proud of you.” She continued, meaning every word she told him.

The tears had stopped coming so fast now. They were still constant but a weaker flow. “I just felt so helpless when I was there.”

Y/n almost chuckled at that. “Spencer, from what I’ve heard you were the one who told the team how to find you. I think you were so brave and I know they’re all so proud of you.” She told him.

“Thank you.” He murmured as he moved his head in her lap. She continued to comb through his hair.

They stayed in the exact position for a while. Until, eventually, the tears stopped.

Spencer then sat up. His cheeks were flushed red as he made eye contact with Y/n. “I’m sorry I completely freaked out.” He nervously rambled out an apology.

Y/n couldn’t have shaken her head faster. “Spencer Reid, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. Everyone needs someone to talk to.”

“I’ve got to save him, Y/n,” Spencer told her as he moved to get up off the bed, no doubt to go to his makeshift workspace.

Instead, Y/n tugged on his arm, not letting him move. “I know you’ve got to, Spence. But you can’t do that if you haven’t slept or relaxed in days.” She informed him. He was smart enough, and he had read at least 300 articles on the importance of sleep, to not argue with her.

“Okay, I’ll sleep. Thanks for coming to see me.” He told her, trying to get her out of the room.

Y/n noticed. “I don’t think so. You’re stuck with me for the night, buddy.” She told him as she pattered her lap again.

He looked like he was thinking about putting his head on it but he stopped. “Then you won’t sleep.” He realised.

“Okay then,” Y/n said as she pulled the covers of his bed up and got in. “I hope you’re okay with cuddling.” She was a little worried he wouldn’t be into it, just because of his germaphobic nature. But her worries subsided when he got in next to her and quickly put his head on her chest,

Y/n moved so she was lying flat on her back with her head on a pillow. Spencer put his own head on her chest and wrapped his arms around her waist like a baby koala would its mother.

She moved her arm so she could wrap it around Spencer’s torso and pull him closed but he stopped her. “Can you, uh... could you do it to my, um, hair?” He nervously asked.

Happy to oblige, Y/n moved her hand to his hair and started to run her fingers through it. “If you just want to lie here it’s fine but we can talk too.” She offered him, still unsure of what he needed. Spencer was so used to closing up that he decided to go against what his brain was telling him.

“My parents,’ He started, “When I was little we didn’t really do touching... no one’s ever hugged me like this.” The thought of a little kid Spencer not getting hugged broke Y/n’s heart again.

“Is this okay?” She asked, cautious of where his boundaries might lie.

“Yes.” He hurriedly answered, not wanting her to stop for a second. “I like it. I just didn’t get hugs as a kid from anyone. And as I grew up I learnt more about germs and figured that’s why my parents repealed me.” He spoke slowly and softly like he was half asleep. Maybe he was. “But I like this. It makes me feel better.” He figured.

“That’s good.” Y/n hummed. “I’m always here for you if you want to talk or just cuddle.” She told him.

The smile she could feel against her chest warmed her heart. “I’d like that and please don’t stop stroking my hair.”

She smiled at that. “I won’t.” She meant it as she leant down to place a kiss on his forehead.

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marvelouspeterparker · 4 years

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what you need

pairing: dom!peter parker x reader

request: I don’t know if request are open but if they are can you please write where peter over hears the reader on the phone saying she’s not sure about sex, because she doesn’t know if he’ll be dominant and rough because the other times he was sweet and gentle. So after hearing this pete gets super dommy and like webs her to the bed a teases her and makes her beg to cum and is just really dominant. Thank you so much if you do this! I love your writing❤️❤️ by anonymous

warnings: smut, dom/sub, edging, spanking, orgasm denial

word count: 4.3k

notes: this has been in my inbox since summer 2019 i am so sorry + peter and reader are 18+ in this and living together (basically they’re grown) + i’m actually not sure i like this but oh well

“I don’t know MJ,” you sighed, unsure. “I just––It’s just not really as good as it could be.”

Peter didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he really didn’t. But he had been playing video games for a few hours now and had decided to take a break for today and made his way over to your shared bedroom. He’d realized you were on the phone and was going to go and come back later, but your conversation piqued his interest and he couldn’t help himself. Also, his hearing was pretty good, so even if he went back, he would have heard it anyway, even if he didn’t want to. You must have thought he still had his headset on.

“No he’s great––he’s really good.” You paused. “No he’s way better than my exes, he makes sure I cum every time, multiple times, that’s not the issue.” Peter leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, a feeling of smug pride in his chest, until another part of his mind reminded him that you said that wasn’t the issue––then what was? There was an issue?

“I––He’s just really,” you paused, struggling to find the right word. “Sweet...Gentle. He’s really gentle. I want him to be rough with me. I want him to be dominant.” You sighed. “But I think he’s just too soft to do that.”

Peter let his arms fall to his side. You’d never told him you wanted him to be rougher. If you had, he would bend you over his knee, no questions asked. He just had no idea you were into that.

When he heard you say bye to MJ, he took a deep breath and walked into the room. You looked up, startled. “Oh––Hi Pete.”

He smiled back, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. He paused, a few feet away from you, looking down at his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He could hear your heartbeat quicken. “W––What do you mean?”

“I heard your phone call, Y/N.”

“Oh, Pete––” You closed the distance between the two of you, your hand reaching out to hold his shoulder but his hand shot out and caught it in mid-air. He could hear your heartbeat becoming erratic.

He looked up at you and your breath hitched at the sinful look in his eyes. He could hear you getting excited, he could also smell you too. “Asked you a question, baby.” He tilted his head and brought your hand to his mouth, turning it to kiss the inside of your wrist, his thumb caressing the soft skin. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to be used like a toy?”

Your mouth went dry. “I––” You had no idea what to say. You knew he could tell how aroused you were getting, yet he wasn’t doing anything.

He raised a brow, clearly waiting for a response, and though it frustrated you, it also made you even wetter.

“I didn’t think you’d––be able to.” You could see a flash of irritation cross his features.

“I can lift a truck with my bare hands, and you thought I wouldn’t be able to dominate a pretty,” he leaned closer to you, “little thing,” he tilted your chin up, “like you?” Everything would be considered little to Pete when it came to his super strength––you’d never thought about it like that.

He moved as if he was going to kiss you, his breath softly touching your lips. “I’m going to have you crying for me, angel.”

He pulled away from you and you tried to lean forward and steal a kiss but you weren’t fast enough. He started to pull your shirt up and paused to let you confirm that you wanted this. When you nodded, he continued and pulled it off completely, letting it fall to the ground. His eyes shamelessly ogled your chest and the look in his eyes made you feel so vulnerable but so seductive––as if you were the one putting him in a trance, even though for you, it was the other way around.

He kissed his way down your stomach as he crouched down, pulling down your sweats and helping you step out of them. He stood back up and trailed his eyes over your body, your pebbled nipples, the rise and fall of your chest. God, you were magnificent.

“Are––Are you not gonna get undressed?” You asked quietly. When he raised a brow, you swallowed and looked down, suddenly nervous.

He tilted your head up by your chin and you bit your lip. “You want me to get naked? Wanna see how hard my cock is for you, just from the sight of you?” You nodded eagerly and he tutted, “You know you have to tell me exactly what you want, princess. Otherwise, I won’t do a thing.”

You licked your lips nervously. “I want––I want to see you. All of you.”

“Yeah?” He teased. “What part of me do you want to see?”

“Pete–” You whined, embarrassed. He crossed his arms and you sighed. “Your––I want to see your cock.” You said quietly.

He smiled, tapping your chin playfully. “There you go, baby. That wasn’t so hard was it?”

He pulled his shirt off teasingly slow, only letting you see inches of his skin at a time, your eyes trailing up with each sliver of skin you saw––from his v-line, to his abs, until he finally pulled it all the way off. He took off his pants and his boxers in no time, but he barely gave you any time to gawk at him.

“Get on the bed.” You could tell in his eyes, he wasn’t playing. You followed his instructions quickly, part of you extremely excited to see how this played out.

You got on your back in the middle of the bed and held your breath as Peter watched you silently, stroking his cock slowly. Your mouth was watering at the sight of him, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t let you take care of him first.

“Safe word is red, okay? Don’t be afraid to use it if you need to.” He looked at you to make sure you heard him and you nodded.

“Okay.”

He took his time taking you in, watching you squirm on the bed. You don’t even know how long he’d made you wait so far, it could have been thirty seconds, it could have been two minutes––you have no idea but it was too long. The way his hand was squeezing around his cock the way you liked to, his tip leaking with pre-cum, you couldn’t handle it. You started to squeeze your thighs together to relieve some pressure and his eyes snapped up to yours immediately.

“Spread your legs.”

You whined but complied, sighing when you felt the air of the room hit between your legs.

Peter’s eyes narrowed in on your center and he sped up his hand. “Fuck, princess. Look at you. You’re so wet for me, aren’t you? Can see you glistening from here.”

You mewled, his words only making you more bothered. You had to physically stop yourself from closing your legs but Peter wasn’t having that.

“Hands above your head.”

You looked at him, pouting. “But Pete––”

“Hands. Above. Your. Head.”

You swallowed and did as he asked. He climbed onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs, eyes focused on your center. “You’re so fucking perfect. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

He brought his hands to trail up and down your thighs, his touch teasingly soft. “You know what else I can’t believe?”

You hummed, looking up at him.

“That you didn’t tell me you wanted to be treated like a slut.” You audibly gasped and he smirked. “This whole time I was treating you like my innocent little angel,” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, “when you really just wanted to be my needy little whore.” He trailed his hand down your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him, but not close enough.

Your back arched as you squirmed under him, “Peter please.”

He quirked a brow, looking into your eyes. “Yes?”

“Touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He retorted, a small smile on his face.

“Pete come on,” you whined, “stop messing around.”

“Sweetheart,” He dug his fingers into your thighs, making you sigh. “Does it look like I’m joking?” He kissed your knee. “Where do you want me to touch you exactly?”

You let out a shaky breath.

He kissed the side of your knee. “Here?” You shook your head. He kissed about an inch lower, a smile on his face. “Here?” You shook your head once again. He kissed lower and lower, asking each time, and every time, you would shake your head no. When he finally reached the highest point of your thigh, right next to your center, you were basically panting with want.

He was lying down on the bed now, his face hovering above your wet center. He kissed your clit gently and you moaned, your hips bucking for more, but he was quick to push you back down with one hand.

He laughed, “Is this where you want me to touch, baby?” You nodded desperately, but that wasn’t enough for him. He tilted his head, licking his lips. “Say it.” He ordered.

You looked down at him, your eyes about to water already with how sensitive and needy you were. “I want––want you to touch my pussy please, Peter.”

“Such a bad girl,” he cooed teasingly. “Naughty mouth too.” His fingers were tracing around your pussy softly, barely grazing your skin, making you yearn for more. “Practically punishing me just because you didn’t tell me what you wanted. Talking about me to your friend, keeping this to yourself...” He looked you in the eye, the dark look in his gaze making your breath hitch. “You were holding back from me too, princess. Depriving me of the darkest, most sensual parts of you, your desires, when we both could have been having fun…What on earth am I gonna do with you?” He pulled his hand away from you and you whined, making him bite his lip. “More importantly, what am I gonna do to you?”

You took a sharp inhale.

He lowered his head, still looking up at you. “You want my mouth?”

You nodded. “Want your mouth on me, please please please Peter.” You were already begging and the thought made Peter twitch. He had to control himself, he knew that if he rutted against the bed and just watched you, he’d cum in no time––and he really wanted to do that inside of you. But he couldn’t help but drag this out a little bit––not when you looked so enticing.

“Yeah?” he bit his lip. “You want my mouth on this pretty pussy?”

You were near tears, “Yes Peter! Please!” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded, you just wanted him to do something. This was the wettest and neediest you’ve ever felt and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Say it, baby.”

You looked at him, barely hearing his words, your response breathless. “W–What?”

His eyes were piercing yours. “Say you want me to eat this pretty little pussy. Then I’ll give you what you want.”

“P––Pete I––”

He raised a brow and made as if he was going to get up, and you quickly spoke up, “Okay I––Please Pete,” He looked at you, wordlessly egging you on. “I want you to eat my pretty little pussy…” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, but then again, so did the rest of your body.

He hummed, still not moving. “One mistake though, babe.” You pouted, in disbelief that he still hadn’t eaten you out––normally he would jump straight to it, no questions asked. “This isn’t your pussy.” His finger trailed down from your clit to your hole, picking up the wetness as it dragged down ever so softly and your brows furrowed in frustration and pleasure, his other hand pinning you down. “It’s mine.”

You closed your mouth, your pussy clenching hopelessly around nothing.

“So correct yourself.”

“I––” You paused and bit your lip.

“I’m waiting, princess. You know it’s not really nice of you to make me wait this long. I’ve been aching to get my mouth on you.” He ran his finger back up to rest on your clit and you sighed.

You had to bite your tongue to prevent your frustrations from pouring out through some very vulgar words. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and Peter smiled annoyingly at you when you opened your eyes––He knew exactly what he was doing. His hand rubbed up and down in your inner thigh and you took a shaky breath. “Peter please? Can you eat your pretty little pussy? It’s throbbing Pete please, I need you––”

He growled and buried his face in you, his tongue lapping up and spreading your wetness. Your hands shot down to grab his hair immediately and he pulled away, making you whine loudly. “I said hands above your head, sweetheart. First and final warning.” You raised your hands back where they were and he dove back in, hands pushing your thighs apart as he devoured you.

He was moaning into you, fully and unabashedly enjoying himself. “My pussy’s always so fucking wet and sweet for me, isn’t it?”

You sighed dreamily, the pleasure going straight to your head, “Mm only for you.”

He chuckled, his tongue making its way through your folds to lap at your clit mercilessly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you into him, shaking his head, moving his tongue aggressively to push you towards the edge. You felt your breath hitch, your eyes widening as your legs started to tremble. Unwillingly, your hands shot down and just as they made contact with his head, he pulled away from you, making you whine loudly.

“Pete no––”

He licked his lips, not even bothering to wipe his chin and you clenched helplessly around nothing. You were pulsing and his eyes focused on your pussy for a moment before he looked back up into your eyes.

“What did I say?”

“I––”

“What. Did I. Say, Y/N.”

You gulped, “To keep my hands above my head.”

“That’s right. And did you do what I asked?” His eyes were piercing yours.

“You just felt––”

“Did you. Do. What I asked?”

You shook your head nervously, “N––No.”

He sat back, looking you up and down, hunger in his eyes. “Gonna have to punish you now, sweetheart.”

You perked up and he smiled. He could hear your heartbeat, your breath. “Yeah baby? You want me to spank that pretty ass of yours?”

You nodded, getting into position over his lap before he could even blink. You turned your head and batted your eyelashes teasingly. “Can you please spank me?”

“Jesus––” he muttered, his hands going over your smooth skin, grabbing the flesh. “So beautiful, aren’t you?” You bucked into his hips, getting wetter from his words and his touch. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together and he swatted one of them lightly, making you gasp. “You know what to do. Spread em, babygirl.”

You whined but opened your legs, spread over him as if he were taking you from behind. “Such a naughty girl, wanting me to hurt you.” He spanked you with no warning and his strong hands held you back when you jolted away from him. “Such. A. Dirty. Fucking. Thing.” He spanked you between each word, your back arching further with each hit.

“Fuck, Pete.”

“Yeah I know. My princess likes that doesn’t she?” You nodded pathetically and he smiled, lifting you up to sit in his lap. “Well too bad this is supposed to be a punishment, then.” His smile dropped and your legs clenched around him. “On the bed like before. Don’t make me ask twice.”

You crawled over to the middle again, hands above your head and he watched you for a moment. He got up without a word and you stopped yourself from complaining. He came back with something in his hands and it looked like––

He pressed a button in a split second and your hands were webbed to the bed. Your eyes went wide and he could tell that you enjoyed it. He threw the web-shooter aside and climbed back between your legs, his hands running up and down your thighs.

“This okay baby?” You nodded and he smiled. “Since I know I can’t trust you to follow simple instructions and keep your hands where they belong,” he gave you a pointed look. “I just had to do something myself to make sure that you’re a good girl for me.”

He lowered himself back down and wasted no time, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your pussy, his arm slinging across your waist when you started squirming.

“Ughh F––Fuck, Pete––”

“That’s it, just take it baby.” He locked eyes with you. “Feel the way my tongue is touching you in ways that only I can.” He lifted his head and spit on your pussy, making you gasp, your hands hopelessly straining against the restraints. He cursed softly, noticing the way you were weakly fighting against the webs and licked along your slit, making a proper mess between your thighs with the mix of his spit and your wetness. His lips and his chin were soaked and you could see them glistening every time he pulled away from you or moved, only making you needier and wetter.

“Baby, I’m close––” You barely spit out, your voice quiet.

He hummed and sucked on your clit harshly, making you choke on your breath. Just as you felt yourself about to tip over the edge, he let you go with a loud pop of his lips, moving his kisses to your inner thighs. You let out a pained whine and he smirked, his lips still pressed to your thigh as he looked up at you.

“Why?” You asked, your voice breaking.

“Told you I wanted you to cry.” He had the nerve to shrug nonchalantly.

“You’re being mean.” You pouted, but Peter could hear your heartbeat, he could tell how you really felt, and you knew this.

He smirked again. “Don’t sit there and pretend you don’t like it.” He licked up your pussy again. “Looking at and tasting how wet you are, we both know how much you love this.” Before you could come up with a response, he wrapped his lips around you, licking and sucking. You felt sensitive and you were throbbing, aching to cum.

You could feel yourself reaching your peak rather quickly and your eyes fluttered shut, your head falling back as you tried and failed to arch your back under Peter’s hold. Before you could get a glimpse of relief, Peter pulled away from you again and you let out a small cry.

He did this again and again, every time you were about to tip over, he released your clit from his lips and trailed his kisses to your thighs, watching you pant and whine. He’d wait until you calmed down to shift his attention back between your legs.

Every time he edged you it hurt, but it also felt so good. It was thrilling. You were so needy and so desperate, and that was exactly how he wanted you. By the third edge, your eyes were glassy, by the fifth you had tears pooling in your eyes, and by the sixth, they finally rolled down your cheeks. Only then did he let you cum, sitting up on his knees and practically bending you in half as he devoured you, moans and whines falling from your lips.

Your body was trembling the whole time that you came, his mouth still attached to you. You felt relief for a few seconds before you realized he wasn’t stopping and there was no way for you to push him off. If you really did want him to stop, you could just say the safe word, but it felt so overwhelmingly good, part of you wanted it to stop, but part of you wanted him to keep going.

“Pete oh my god!––”

He growled and kept going, shaking his head and humming into you, his tongue dipping in and out of you while he held you up, one arm wrapped over you, while he slipped two fingers into your dripping hole and sucked on your bundle of nerves. Your legs were shaking, your body convulsing as he tortured you. He didn’t stop until you came again and again.

He set you down on the bed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it up, and sucking on his fingers, not wanting to let any of you go to waste. “Taste so fucking good, princess.”

Your body was still going through aftershocks as he looked you up and down. He bent down as if he was going to eat you out again, his eyes on yours, and licked one teasingly slow stripe up your pussy, making you yelp and weakly try to shut your legs. He kissed your clit and up along your stomach, making his way up to your chest, then your lips. You eagerly kissed him back with tongue, tasting yourself as you trembled under him.

He pulled away and smiled down at you, far too innocently, but there was a glint in his eyes. “Never get tired of tasting my pussy.”

You let out a small whimper and your legs unconsciously squeezed around his waist. He brought a hand down to trace your thigh and your ass, his touch making you shiver. He grabbed your thigh and leaned down to kiss you again, your bodies molding together, his cock grinding against your pussy, making you whine into his lips. You were so sensitive, but you still wanted more.

“Gonna let me fuck my pussy baby, hm?”

You nodded. “Please.”

He grabbed his cock with one hand and hissed, pumping himself a few times before swiping it through your wet folds and sliding in. He bottomed out immediately, letting out a string of broken groans as you moaned.

“Feels so fucking tight.” His head fell back for a moment, eyes closing as he let himself just feel you. He thrusted in and out of you and his head fell forward again, focused on where you two were connected. “That’s it. Just like that. Such a perfect pussy. My perfect pussy.”

You mewled and his eyes snapped up to yours. “You like when I talk about my pussy baby?” You nodded and he smiled. “Yeah I know you do. Filthy fucking thing.”

He started thrusting into you at a faster pace, your walls clenching around him, making him let out a few groans and curses. You were both sweaty and needy––Peter’s cheeks were red, his curls falling over his eyes, his arms straining and flexing as he pounded into you. He looked like a god.

Your mouth was open, your eyes basically closing, a sheen layer of sweat on your body making your skin shine. Peter could tell you were getting closer, still sensitive from your orgasms and his teasing, it didn’t take long.

“You wanna cum baby?”

You nodded, panting, “So bad.”

“Such a greedy girl.” He held eye contact with you, thrusting deeply for a few moments before he stopped his hips, making you cry out. “Beg for it.”

You pouted, hands subconsciously trying to reach to hold his cheeks, but unable to due to the webs holding them back, making Peter smile. “Peter please let me cum baby.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

He tilted his head, licking his lips. “I know you can do much better than that, princess.”

Your brows furrowed in frustration. “Please! I need to cum, I’ve been a good girl.” He stared at you, prompting you to keep going. “Wanna cum and I want you to cum inside me too. Know you want to, can feel you throbbing inside me baby. Please?” Your throat was dry, voice practically shot when you finished.

Peter just looked at you for a moment before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting into you at full force, making you scream. He started pounding into you, grunting as your walls pulled him in, coaxing him to fuck you harder.

“This what you wanted?” He grunted out. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as he brought a hand down to rub at your clit, making your legs tense and tremble around him. He didn’t stop until he brought you over the edge, your whole body vibrating, yelps spilling from your lips, your neck tilted back, inviting him to mark it up. He groaned into your skin, licking, biting and sucking at your neck as he came shortly after, filling you up, making you moan.

He stayed there for a bit, soothing you with his kisses, his hands running up and down your side before he sat up.

He pulled out of you and ripped the webs apart, holding your hands and kissing your wrists softly before lying down next to you, cradling you in his chest. You wrapped an arm and a leg around him, sighing contently. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath and settle down.

After a bit, he spoke up. “So...was that good for you?” He asked sheepishly.

You looked up at him, smiling. Same old Peter. “That was amazing Pete.” You leaned up and kissed him softly, the two of you melting into each other for a few moments.

“I’m glad.” He smiled, his hand tracing patterns on your side, the other holding your jaw. “So next time you’re gonna tell me what you need, right?”

You bit your lip, “I don’t know…I kinda wanna see what happens if you find out on your own again.”

His grip tightened around your waist as he shook his head, laughing quietly, “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker request #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker oneshot #dom!peter parker #dom!peter parker x reader #dom!peter parker smut #dom!peter parker oneshot #dom!peter parker imagine #dom!peter parker fic

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flowercrown-bard · 2 years

Text

if it all can be stolen away

part 1 / part 2 AO3

word count: 5434

Chapter 3/5 - A Song so Beautiful/ It Brings the World Back into Tune/ Back into Time

“And I am Time itself, I slow to let you play/I steal the hours and turn the night into day” - Farewell Wanderlust (The Amazing Devil)

With cheers and dance, the hunt turned into a parade. After sealing the deal, the Queen had turned on her heels and walked off without another word, the other fae following her. Some caught fireflies or fished the reflection of the sun out of a pond they passed, fasting the light onto their spears and turning them into dancing lanterns. The lights bobbed in time with their skipping steps, as if they were jesters juggling balls for their sovereign’s amusement.

With just enough distance that the fae wouldn’t be able to listen in on them, Geralt and Jaskier followed the fool’s lanterns. Not that there was anything for the fae to listen in on. Jaskier had tried asking Geralt if he was alright, but Geralt had done nothing but fix him with a cold look, before averting his eyes.

No one saw the way Jaskier’s face fell at the rejection. The fae certainly seemed to pay them no mind. What use would there have been for a guard anyway? Geralt was too exhausted from the hunt to run away and Jaskier would be damned if he left his witcher’s side. Despite Geralt stiffening at the touch, Jaskier had slung one arm around Geralt’s waist, steadying him. The lack of protest coming from the witcher spoke louder than words. He truly was holding himself upright with the last resorts of his strength. If Jaskier wanted to see him safe and sound, they had no choice but to follow the procession. Jaskier gained a little satisfaction from walking freely instead of being dragged along by the fae, but he couldn’t help but wonder, if the Queen delighted in this too. It must make her feel so powerful to have them follow her like hounds.

A queasy feeling rose in Jaskier like bile. Hound. The same word the Queen had used to describe Geralt. As if he was a thing to be claimed. And what had Jaskier done? He had called him my witcher, mine. He wasn’t better than her. No wonder Geralt refused to look at him or speak.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier said quietly, staring ahead at the dancing lights. They lacked the warmth that sometimes lit up Geralt’s golden gaze.

In his periphery, Jaskier could see Geralt’s eyes flicker to him, but he remained stoically silent.

“About what I said earlier, I mean.” Jaskier’s fingers twitched on Geralt’s waist. He wished he could hold him more tenderly and not just because of this necessity. “I didn’t mean anything by it. You know that, right?”

This time, Geralt turned his entire head to him, scrutinising him with an unreadable expression. His jaw was tight and his eyes searching.

“I just called you mine because I thought it could get us out of here. I would never lay claim on you.” Jaskier let out a tight laugh that he knew didn’t reach his eyes. “You know how bards are. We like to twist the truth a little sometimes. I don’t really think you belong to me.”

“I know,” Geralt said quickly, roughly. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something else, but then he sighed and pressed his lips together.

“So…we are good? You’re not angry?”

Geralt tensed and his brows drew together, creating a harsh line on his forehead. “I am fucking furious,” Geralt spat, but somehow it seemed more defeated than venomous. “You shouldn’t have come. I told you to never get close to the fae and you practically threw yourself at them. Do you want to die? Why do you keep following danger?”

“That’s not what I’m following,” Jaskier said quietly.

“Could have fooled me.” Geralt huffed out a bitter laugh. “You never stop following me.”

“I know. But you’re not dangerous. You’re…” Jaskier trailed off, unsure of how to put into words what he didn’t dare say out loud, “important. I’m your friend and you’re damn right, I’ll always follow you.”

Even if Geralt didn’t want him to. Even if Geralt left again and again and again. Off on a hunt, off to spend winter with his brothers, off to cross into the Otherworld. Always leaving Jaskier behind, while the bard wished he would turn around and change his mind, asking him to come with him for once.

“It’s not worth risking your life for,” Geralt said. Beneath Jaskier’s hands, he trembled. Quickly, Jaskier shifted to use more of what little strength he possessed to hold Geralt upright.

“It is,” he replied simply, rubbing the fingers of his marked hand together, tracing the white line binding him to his word. “Because it’s you. You’d do the same for me.”

Would he though? Wouldn’t he just be relieved that the annoying bard was finally gone? Would he even turn back and notice he was gone?

“It’s not the same.” Geralt said. “You’re…you’re you. I’m a witcher.”

“Exactly. You help people.” Jaskier ignored Geralt’s snort. “Let someone do the same for you.”

Geralt didn’t reply, looking back at the procession in front of them.

“Just because people don’t always know it, doesn’t mean you’re not saving them,” Jaskier continued. He slowed down their steps, mindful to not let either of their feet get caught on a protruding root. “You helped that town. You should have seen them when they realised they were no longer forced to dance.”

Something small and blue caught his attention. The little bird he had followed before landed on his shoulder, looking up at him with curious black eyes. Jaskier lifted his free hand to pet its little head.

“They were so tired, but they still celebrated. There were children clapping and lovers embracing and - “ he broke off, a lump forming in his throat, “-and there was me, waiting. For you. You’re a good person, Geralt. They might not show it to you, but you make people happy. When we go back, I will tell them. They’ll see that they’re free because of you and they will thank you.”

Geralt sighed, lowering his head, so that the loose strands of hair shielded his face like a curtain.

“What are you doing, bard?” He asked quietly.

“The same thing I always do.” Jaskier gave him a crooked smile, before looking at the lights. They were beautiful in a way. Though not quite as comforting as warm gold. “The same thing any bard tries to do, I assume.”

“Hm?”

“I imagine what the world could be like. And then I try to change it with my words.”

For you. So that people won’t shun you. So that you can be sheltered and won’t go hungry. So that maybe one day, you’ll stay and follow me as well.

“You can’t,” Geralt said. “Words can’t change what I am.”

“See, that’s the most wonderful thing about it,” Jaskier said, pressing his body closer against Geralt’s side under the guise of steadying him. “That’s the one thing I don’t want to change.”

Slowly, Geralt lifted his head. With one hand, Jaskier brushed his hair that had fallen into Geralt’s eyes behind his ears. “There,” he said quietly, “now you can see.”

Something softened in Geralt’s expression and it looked like he was about to say something, but they both got distracted, when the bird fluttered its wings and left Jaskier’s shoulder, disappearing between the trees again.

Following its flight with his eyes, Jaskier noticed that the fae had come to a halt. They were standing in a glade. The lights of the lanterns were brighter than before, or maybe the world had darkened around them, making the trees look like pillars of shadow. Some of the fireflies got released, finding their place on those trees in eerily regular rows. Geralt’s arm around Jaskier’s shoulders was a comforting weight. A reminder of why he was here. A warm contrast to the cold that blanketed the glade. In its middle was a pond, with water that was nearly black, with strange wafts of green and purple drifting through it. Jaskier watched in fascination as the fae still carrying their lanterns stepped closer to the water, releasing the balls of light into it. The lights danced on the water’s surface in a hundred tiny dots.

Next to him, Geralt gasped. Jaskier followed his gaze upwards and his breath stopped. Above them, the canopy of leaves was broken, leaving a window to look up into the sky. A sky, on which the same colours could be seen. Purple, green and blue nebulous shapes painting the black sky as if an artist had run their brush over it in bold strokes. And between the colours, there were countless stars, creating unfamiliar shapes.

“I can’t read them,” Geralt muttered, perhaps more to himself than to Jaskier. His eyes went from one strange constellation to the other, like they had years ago, when he had explained to Jaskier how to navigate using the sky. ‘I don’t need to follow stars,’ Jaskier had said back then. ‘I have you.’ Geralt had remained quiet, but Jaskier had seen on his face that there was a reply burning on his tongue. He wished Geralt had told him back then what he had wanted to say. “I don’t know where we are.”

“It’s alright,” Jaskier said, giving Geralt’s waist a little squeeze. “I will bring us home.”

As if she had waited for him to speak, the Queen spread her arms, commanding every being in this glade to fall silent.

“The hunt is over. So I say,” she began, “as entertainment, our game will begin with the bard’s task of the first day, the witcher’s freedom for to win.”

With the strange cadence of her voice and the unusual way of speaking, it took Jaskier a while to unfurl the meaning of her words.

“Wait.” He couldn’t stop himself from calling out. “First task? You said this task would take time, but it’s already night -”

“Better be quick then, to save your knight,” the Queen said, her lips curling into a cat-like smile.

“What I mean,” Jaskier said, grasping for straws, “is that you said it’s the task of the first day and technically it’s not day anymore.”

The Queen’s smile dropped.

“Don’t try my patience, little flower. I grant you a chance, but nothing more.” With one finger, she traced the new tattoo on her arm - an unmistakable threat. “Do not test me, or I’ll make you cower like a weed does on the floor.”

Geralt’s arm around his shoulder became heavier, pulling him closer as he glared at the queen. His other hand was reaching over Jaskier’s chest, holding him protectively.

The proximity made Jaskier’s heart skip a beat.

The Queen tilted her head at the display. “The more you argue, the more you wait, the less time you’ll have to fight for the witcher’s fate.”

A part of Jaskier wanted to insist that this wasn’t fair, that if the Queen’s words were to be taken at face value, he wouldn’t have to start the task right this instance. But the Queen was right. It was unlikely that she would change her mind and Jaskier didn’t have any time to waste.

He lowered his head, partly so that she couldn’t see the spite in his eyes. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Your Highness, I meant no offence.”

“On then. Let the game commence.” She lifted her hands higher, not unlike a bard demanding attention. “Since stealing the witcher is your desire, here’s the task that I require:” She let her gaze wander over the glade, until it settled on Jaskier again, burning into him. “Time is what you need to steal. Do this ere dawn to honour our deal.”

Time. Jaskier turned to Geralt helplessly. How on earth was he supposed to steal time? It wasn’t as if he could put the sun in his pocket or steal the moon out of the sky. Geralt’s expression was pinched and his breathing ragged.

“Think,” he hissed at Jaskier. It was a plea, a prayer.

Jaskier nodded automatically, but his thoughts refused to get in line. There were a hundred useless things going through his mind, a hundred solutions that were just as impossible as the task itself.

“I thought you’d hurry,” the Queen said, bemused. “Should I start to worry?”

“No,” Jaskier rushed to say. “I can do it. I’m just… I need to think.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking off this distracting foreign world. Without realising what he was doing, Jaskier let go of Geralt to press his fists against his forehead, as if that could get him any closer to the solution.

A weight stumbled against him unexpectedly, nearly knocking him to the ground. His eyes flew open.

Geralt grimaced and tried to pull himself upright on his own, but his knees buckled. Jaskier’s breath hitched. How long had Geralt been on his feet? How many nights had he spent dancing and being hunted?

Jaskier’s hands were back on Geralt in a flash, guiding him carefully to one of the shadow-cloaked trees. He was sure Geralt would have complained, had he had any breath left to speak. Gently, Jaskier lowered Geralt into a sitting position. With one hand, he brushed the sweat-soaked hair out of his forehead, feeling how hot his skin was.

“Rest,” he commanded. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t worry about me, bard.” Geralt bared his teeth. “You’re wasting your time.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to protest, but then he faltered.

Quick as a whirlwind, he leaped to his feet and turned towards the Queen.

“I have done as you have asked,” he proclaimed loudly, his heart hammering with nerves. “I have stolen my witcher’s time, over and over again.”

The Queen raised her brows, motioning for him to continue.

Jaskier glanced uncertainty at Geralt, who was staring at him with a stony expression.

“I have been holding him up on the road because I cannot walk as fast as him. I have been wasting his time when I insist on staying in town longer than he wanted to. I have taken his time, when he didn’t want to give it to me.” He spread his arms, as he did at the end of a performance. “So you see, I have stolen his time.”

“How curious you are, dear bard,” the Queen said, rounding the pond to walk towards Jaskier. “You truly think you speak the truth. How easily does the heart trust falcities while you’re in youth.”

Jaskier frowned. “What do you mean? It’s true, he doesn’t like spending time with me.” He started picking at his hands, twisting them and growing more agitated with every word he spoke. He rushed out the words. They hurt too much to take his time with them. “I’m taking his time without him wanting me to. I won this challenge!”

The Queen didn’t reply, only hummed in a mocking imitation of Geralt’s speech.

“And what do you think about this claim?” She asked, crouching down before Geralt. “Does he speak true? Do you think the same? Or did he not steal any time from you?”

She reached out, caressing one long finger up Geralt’s throat and coming to rest at his lips.

Geralt’s hands flexed, like he wished he had his swords with him. He turned his head away harshly, breaking the contact to the Queen.

An unpleasant tightness pulled at the Queen’s lips. “You’re stubborn, but you’re also weak. You won’t say it freely? I command you: Speak!”

Geralt’s eyes widened in shock and his entire body tensed, as his lips parted, seemingly without his consent.

Jaskier rushed to his side. He fell to his knees beside him, reaching for his hand. “What’s going on?” He asked, clutching Geralt.

Geralt faced him, but he didn’t give a reply to Jaskier’s question. Instead, he did what the Queen had demanded of him and told her his truth.

“It’s not true,” he said, his voice sounding strained. His wooden way of speaking was similar to how he had danced under the fae’s control before. “He has not wasted a minute of my time.” Something strange happened to Geralt’s expression. Jaskier couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a mixture of guilt and shame. Geralt averted his gaze sharply, hiding away from Jaskier. “The time we spend together is time I give to him freely.”

Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t heard correctly. It was impossible. Geralt - Geralt didn’t like spending time with him. He had barely tolerated his presence for years. There was not a world in which he actually wanted to watch Jaskier stop their travels, just to look at flowers or take forever trying on different outfits and asking for Geralt’s opinion. Geralt didn’t like being stuck at a tavern, because Jaskier had decided to play an encore. He didn’t.

Yet here he was, forced to speak true.

Jaskier’s heart made a foolish, hopeful jump. But Geralt wasn’t looking at him and the Queen was laughing in mockery.

Jaskier was a fool. A fool for thinking he could talk his way out of this challenge. A fool to think Geralt liked spending time with him. That wasn’t what he had said, after all. He had merely said that he didn’t hate spending time with him. And what a great difference there was between not minding and liking.

Jaskier clenched his jaw and extracted his hand from Geralt’s. Geralt let him go without even trying to hold him back. He didn’t know what to do. He had thought himself oh so clever, but it was all for naught now. He couldn’t even begin to figure out how to solve this. He wasn’t even sure if it was a riddle to be solved or if there was a solution reliant on the unknown rules of this world.

He moved around the pond, looking down into the nebulous shapes and colours, praying to find an answer there. If there were any gods, they hadn’t dared to follow him into this realm.

He was pacing, heart racing. Fingers drumming on his thighs. There were eyes on him. Everyone was watching. Judging.

He shook his head, shut his eyes tightly. He could feel this place getting to him, like a fog creeping up unnoticed, until suddenly you realised you couldn’t see anymore. He couldn’t think clearly. Everything here was so alive, breathing and humming to a tune he didn’t understand.

And every leaf on every tree, every pair of eyes, every star in the sky was watching him, waiting for him to misstep. Normally, he loved attention, thrived in it. But this was making him feel so small. Powerless. Alone. It was like being on stage, needing to perform a song he had never heard, while being judged on whether he hit his notes, knew his lines, was able to keep time…

His head snapped up. Abruptly, the drumming of his fingers stopped. On instinct, one of his hands reached for his back, to where his lute rested safe and secure, just waiting to be played again. He swung the instrument to his front. Immediately, his hands found their places on the strings. They danced over them nimbly, just a silly little run, yet with each note Jaskier plucked, he could feel some of his confidence return. This was a world of magic, of pure chaos. When Jaskier had learned how to play, the notes hadn’t made sense. His fingers hadn’t understood how to move. The melodies had been all jumbled up. In short, his playing had been chaotic. And he had taken this chaos and turned it into something beautiful, something he could understand and create.

The white string around his wrist shone bright in the light of the nebulae above him, but it was nothing compared to the brightness of the notes he elicited from the strings on his lute.

He found himself standing taller, prouder. His fingers didn’t falter as he played in piano, so that his voice could be heard throughout the glade.

“The Queen demands entertainment,” he announced, throwing his voice, “What is more entertaining than two musicians showing their craft. I challenge you, if there be one among you who thinks they can match my skill, to play with me.”

A hush fell over the clearing, all eyes turning to the Queen. She regarded Jaskier like a hunter trying to figure out its prey’s next move. Then, she waved at one of her fae.

“My Songbird, come, what do you say?” At her call, the fae with the blue feathered cloak looked up. He ran a hand over his cloak, smoothing the feathers and bowing in acknowledgement. The Queen continued, “I heard that you have longed to play with common, mortal folk. On then, take out your lyre, shed your cloak and show us how well you can sing.” Her lips tilted up into an unpleasant smile. “For you, it must be no hard thing to win against a human bardling.”

Wren pressed his lips together in a tight smile, his bow deepening. In one motion, he straightened his spine again and opened the clasp of the cloak. It fluttered to the ground like a bird’s wings. When Jaskier looked from the cloak back to the fae, he was holding an instrument in his hand. A beautiful golden lyre, strung with silver strings.

“I thank you, Highness, for your trust,” Wren said. With his free hand, he smoothed out the chemise he was wearing. It was a lighter shade of blue than his cloak had been, but looked just as much like the soft downs of a bird. “I have no doubt about whose glitter will rust in the end.” He turned to Jaskier in a renewed bow. “Will you begin then, little friend?”

Jaskier bristled at the moniker. A sharp reply about them not being friends was already at the tip of his tongue, but he faltered. It was too close to what Geralt so liked to say to him and he didn’t want to think of that now. He had to believe that he could do this, that he could earn Geralt’s trust, if not his affection.

So instead, Jaskier nodded at Wren’s instrument. “I thought you fae despised liars.”

Wren’s eyes lit up. “Ah, but there is fire in your heart and that is something we admire.” His fingers ran up and down his lyre. The notes falling from the strings were like liquid gold. “I ask again, do you want to start?”

Jaskier forced his fingers not to tighten around the fretboard, giving himself an air of confidence. “I thought we could play a duet. I begin and you join in.” His tongue darted out, wetting his lips nervously. “Surely keeping up won’t be hard for a Songbird like you?” He prayed echoing the Queen’s earlier words would be enough to goad the fae into compliance. From the tales he had been told about the fair folk, their arrogance could be their downfall. But their wrath would be everyone else’s doom.

Wren’s brows rose up, but he nodded slowly, intrigued. He motioned for Jaskier to begin.

Jaskier took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and plucked the first note. He didn’t know what his fingers were doing, had never played this song before or heard it performed at any court. Yet his fingers found their places sure and steady as if he had played this melody a hundred times before. The song rose and fell like Geralt’s chest in hi sleep, the first time he had felt comfortable and safe enough to close his eyes with Jaskier there. It danced merrily like the flames of a campfire Geralt had lit because Jaskier was cold. It - it ached.

He played it as if he had known this song all along, and in a way, he had.

A new melody joined in with his and his eyes shot open. The fae was plucking at his lyre, weaving a harmony into his song. Something shifted inside Jaskier. There was no way to explain, but it felt like Wren’s playing fit perfectly with his, not only in regards to time and tune. No word was spoken, yet in his heart, Jaskier knew that they were telling the same story with their instruments.

He had heard tales before, about mortals beating fae by playing songs coming from the heart.

"I've played for many centuries, yet, by the stars above,

You've taught me skill is not enough. It can't compare to love."

Wasn’t that what the hero in one of those old songs got told? That no fae’s skill could compare to his love? And yet, no matter how much Jaskier thought about nights spent sitting around a fire, about Geralt telling him of his family in a low voice, about leaning his head against his shoulder, there was no sign of Jaskier’s playing being superior.

He thought of Roach’s hooves thundering on the ground, as Geralt spurned her on to get Jaskier to a healer in time. Jaskier’s fingers on the lute sped up, but Wren matched his pace, note for note. Jaskier let his mind stray to the day when Geralt had taken him to a farm, and asked for his help finding a new suitable Roach. The notes swelled, as the melody slowed. Wren didn’t falter.

Jaskier gritted his teeth. His fingers were burning with the friction created by the strings. He had no idea how long they had already played. It could have been mere minutes, or it could have been most of the night. He couldn’t tell. In his mind, he was walking through years upon years of love, of Geralt making him want to sing.

Geralt.

Jaskier’s eyes darted to the witcher. He half-expected Geralt to be asleep or meditating. Anything to regain his energy, while not having to endure listening to Jaskier play. Yet, he found Geralt looking straight at him, tension in his shoulders, but something soft in his eyes.

Jaskier’s heart jumped and for just a second, his fingers fumbled. He caught himself, before he lost the rhythm of the song.

He couldn’t look away. Geralt was right there. The sight of him so near made Jaskier’s heart swell. It made him hope. It made him want to sing.

And so he did. He took this wordless song, that had been both his and Wren’s and made it his and Geralt’s. Only theirs.

“Time.

They say, it will take time.

They say that if I wait

I will realise that I should go

And not look back or lose my way.

But I say

No.

It’s already to late

For me, because time

Is the one thing I don’t have

The one thing that I gave

To the one I wish was mine.”

His voice broke, when Geralt’s brows drew together. He didn’t understand, Jaskier told himself. Geralt never understood this songs. Why would this be any different? He had to believe this. Had to trust that Geralt didn’t know that this song was about him, or Jaskier wouldn’t be able to continue. Jaskier forced himself to look away. Still, he felt Geralt’s eyes burning into the back of his head.

“What a useless gift to give

To someone who sure will live

Longer than i know I will

Yet I give it to him still.

My best years I would give away

If only I knew it would make him stay.

But he shuns my years, my time.

In winter, I am left behind.

Half a year - no more, I know -

Can I give to him, before he will go

And leave me standing in the snow.

I give my winters to him still

By waiting, hoping, feeling ill

With missing him.

And yet come spring,

I know that I’ll be his again.

Even if he won’t be mine

I still can give him this: My time.”

He didn’t notice the tears in his eyes, until the first one dropped and landed on his lute with a quiet splash. His voice became thinner than before, raw with emotion. He couldn’t tell what other words tumbled from his lips. Perhaps he sang more of the pain of only being allowed to see his love for half a year, before he left to be with his family again. Perhaps he sang of the warmth that would make the world bloom around him, when he saw his love return - though his love wasn’t returned - in spring. Or perhaps he sang of the injustice of giving his time, his life to one who people thought did nothing but take lives. Geralt wasn’t taking his life - Jaskier was freely giving it to him and he felt more alive for it.

Maybe he sang of a million other things. In the end, it didn’t matter. Whatever words were falling from his lips, he was singing about Geralt. About loving him. And no matter what this fae understood about longing and love, he could never understand what it was like to be mortal, to only have a handful of years and to willingly give them to someone else.

With every word he sang, Jaskier’s voice got more hoarse, but his fingers became steadier.

A dissonant twang cut through the song and for one terrifying moment, Jaskier thought his hands had failed him. But no, his fingers were still plucking the tune, his strained voice still singing the song of his heart.

It was Wren, who had stopped playing. Whose hands were trembling, unable to keep time with a song that wasn’t his anymore. His dark eyes were shining and when he squeezed them shut, a single tear rolled down his cheek and he averted his eyes. He did not attempt to pick up the song again. He only listened, as Jaskier sang, until finally, he let the melody fade out. The last note hung in the air like the stars hung in the sky. There was utter silence, except for Jaskier’s and Wren’s choked sobs.

A hand touched Jaskier’s and he flinched. With wide eyes, he stared at Geralt, who had pulled himself to his feet despite his pain and exhaustion, just to stay by his side. His hand was warm and steady against his. Immediately, Jaskier let go of the lute and clung to Geralt’s hand instead, like a lifeline. Geralt didn’t say a word, only gave his hand a light squeeze. A silent reassurance that he was there with Jaskier, that even when Jaskier looked away, ashamed and lost, Geralt still wouldn’t leave him.

Jaskier took a couple of deep breaths. He couldn’t hope to soothe the ache in his heart, but he could steady his voice enough to speak with dignity.

“Your Majesty,” he said loudly, searching the Queen’s gaze. She wasn’t crying, but there was unmistakable longing in her eyes. “Your champion agreed to play a duet with me, yet he could not keep time.” Jaskier lifted his head higher. “Therefore, I have stolen his time and declare myself the winner of this first challenge.”

The Queen regarded him for a long moment, then she inclined her head.

“A victory well earned,” she finally said, her voice less steady than it had been before. “Though a winner you are not, with a love so spurned.”

Jaskier flinched. Beside him, Geralt stepped closer, until their shoulders touched. He pulled Jaskier into his side, steadying him.

“Let him rest,” Geralt demanded. “He did what you asked of him, he doesn’t deserve any more of your mind games.”

The Queen’s lips twitched in amusement. She said something else, gave tasks to her fae, but Jaskier was too distracted by the feeling of Geralt next to him. By the familiar heat of his body. By the way he had come to his aid without hesitation.

“Come on,” Geralt muttered, lips close to Jaskier’s ear. A shiver went down Jaskier’s spine and he let himself be guided away by Geralt. A part of him was sure, he should pay attention to where he was going. But the bigger part knew he could trust Geralt not to lead him astray. He closed his eyes and leaning against Geralt, he followed where he led. He would always follow. Until the end of the Continent. Until the end of Time.

Even if, eventually, Geralt would leave him again, as he was always wont to do, without looking back.

tag list (please tell me if you want me to add or remove your from the list):

@wren-of-the-woods @panna-acida @comfyswitcherblanketfort @smolalienbee @breadpants-bard @mothmanismyuncle @fingons-rad-harp @flosimo @ samukai @dawners

#geraskier #geralt #jaskier #the witcher #witcher #fic #fanfic #my writing #if it all can be stolen away #mulitchapter

20 notes · View notes

shotorozu · 3 years

Note

hi babes, can you do headcanons for deku, shoto, denki and kiri with a really reckless s/o? (eg; rushing into battle without a plan, protecting their friends while getting hurt themselves, take risks even when the odds arent in their favor etc.) make sure you stay safe, stay hydrated, eat on time, get enough sleep and wear a mask if you go out!! lots of love <3

reckless s/o

character(s) : midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, kirishima eijirou (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not specific

headcanon type : angst to fluff, crack if you squint (x reader)

note(s) : ok i cut out kiri, because my train of thought stopped working on his part :,) sorry kiri lovers, i do have a 4 character post coming up soon so, don’t be disappointed :,)

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

you’rejust like him sometimes it’s quite scary

it pains everyone around you— especially all might because he lowkey thinks that izuku’s habits rubbed off you 💀 like,, he cares about you both but sheeeesh

of course— compared to you, izuku usually doesn’t rush in without a plan with a few instances but he does have a habit of taking hits sometimes

but sheesh, it gives him a heart attack everytime you do something really reckless

and it doesn’t help that you look so unbothered by it too

“Y/N are you okay? THAT WAS RECKLESS!!”

“ehhh it wasn’t that bad”

he’s quite a worrier sometimes, and it’s a habit that’s similar to his mother (aw)

and sometimes, izuku’s convinced that you go to the hospital/recovery girl more than him! and that says a lot

totally admires your commitment, your fast thinking, and most especially— your selflessness

but, he probably has this written in his notebook somewhere, written in bold writing with an asterisk on the side

‘Y/N has a tendency to jump into things without a plan*’

todoroki shouto

on the outside : 😐🧍‍♂️

on the inside : 😦➡️😨⁉️⁉️⁉️

thinks you get injured more than midoriya— aka, the person that technically lived at recovery girl’s office, because of how much he got injured

shouto knows he probably has to be the rational one in the relationship

he’s mostly composed, and rational— excluding a few exceptions, so seeing you treat yourself like a meat shield pains him

like,, you know how chat noir temporarily dies or gets sacrificed in at least 10 episode per season?

that’s literally you

and shouto can’t say it’s heroic, because gosh! it’s gonna kill you one day, and he’s unsure if he’ll be able to emotionally handle that.

“love, you have to stop jumping into battle like that. that’s not heroic, that was reckless!”

“but then you would’ve gotten hit”

“yes, i would’ve gotten hit, but you need to stop taking hits at the expense of your own health.”

on the brighter side, he’ll always be there to make sure you’re thinking rationally, and acting rationally

kaminari denki

thought you were doing it for shits and giggle, until he realized how often you did it

like,, meat shield who? we only have Y/N

the first time : “LMAO Y/N REALLY JUMPED IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE”

the most recent instance : “Y/N, this is going too far🧍‍♂️”

people always think he’s never serious— but he is

denki can be serious. he thinks your selflessness is hot asf, but he hates the feeling of dread he feels whenever he sees you all injured

he really wishes he could do something about it, or make to consequences better but he knows that he can’t change that part of you

because you took the hit again

denki’s not the model example of ‘following plans’ and ‘not taking risks’ because he has taken risks before

and he has deviated from the original plan before

but you’re on a different level 🗿 and that worries him

probably tries to negotiate you midway through your recklessness, but knows it’s probably too late anyway. it doesn’t hurt to try though

“h-hey Y/N, we can think of another way to— wait, don’t! ah.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing

i do not profit off of my hobby do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

Text

Just Us

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry is sick and tired of you bringing dates back to your shared apartment, and he has no problem letting you know. So basically, mega jealous Henry, which I am a pathetic sucker for.

Warnings: mentions of sex, lots of cursing. I think that’s it.

Notes: this is kind of similar to another fic I did, and I try not to do that, but I just really felt the need to write this, so I did.

Words: 2732

Henry’s mood turned sour the second you walked through the door with your date in tow. You came in with a bright smile on your face that he returned with a scowl, but you did your best to brush it off. Your roommate acting like an overgrown child every time you brought home a guest was nothing new; you certainly weren’t surprised, and you had no intention of stooping to his level.

“Don’t mind us,” You called to Henry from over your shoulder as you shed your coat and draped it on the hook. “This is James.”

Henry only grunted in response, not looking up from fixing his dinner; peanut butter about to be spread messily on a slice of wheat bread. You rolled your eyes, took James’s coat and led him over to the couch where he smiled sweetly when you invited him to sit and offered him a drink.

Entering the kitchen, you opened the fridge door and pulled out two beers. “So?” You asked, your eyebrow raised as you searched for the bottle opener in the junk drawer. Henry dropped the knife with a clang on the countertop, then turned to you and crossed his arms.

“So, you just thought this was fine,” He asked, his voice dripping with aggravated sarcasm as he shrugged his broad shoulders and frowned. “Just whatever, no big deal?”

You chuckled at the weak argument you’d had at least three times before. You wouldn’t have given him the chance to say anything about your date at all if you knew he wasn’t going to hang on to it the entire night just to explode in the morning for bringing a stranger into his home. Your home too, you would often have to remind him. So, it was your mission to let him get the anger out early in the night. You’d be less likely to have to worry about it later and could focus your attention on the man sitting in your living room rather than Henry’s imminent frustration.

“Henry,” You sighed and took a sip of your beer. “As of right now, it’s just the continuation of an innocent date. We’re going to watch a movie.”

“As of right now?” Henry huffed deeply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that if it gets a little heated, I promise not to make out with him in front of you, but at this current time, you have little to worry about.”

He sucked in a long breath through his nostrils. “Ok, that’s—”

“And we won’t fuck on our couch. I’ll take him to my room so you don’t have to see anything scarring,” You teased with a wink.

“Ok, enough.”

“And we won’t be loud, I swear.”

“Enough!” He snapped. You quickly whipped your head around the corner to see if James heard, but he was still sitting there, playing with his fingernails as he patiently waited for you like the gentleman he was. When you looked back at Henry, he was practically quaking with anger. “Get that asshole out of my apartment.”

“Um, our apartment. And no thank you.” You smiled and cocked your head to the side as innocently as you could. “I’d like to be having sex tonight.”

“With him?” Henry pointed a long finger in your date’s general direction. The fury in his eyes could’ve stabbed James through the back of his head if the wall weren’t in the way.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”

“For fucks sake, Y/N. Have some self-respect.”

Your playful smile instantly dropped, and if you weren’t leaning against the wall, you would’ve stumbled. Henry had said a lot of things before; Hurtful things, things that made you want to slap him, but something about this felt worse. Assuming you were devaluing yourself by wanting to have sex with a man who was sweet, and kind and generous, and million other lovely things men, other than Henry, have never been to you, was like a stab to the gut. Henry was your best friend; you were his. You supported his choices and dreams, and it seemed Henry did the same for you unless it came to this very particular subject. He hated every man you brought around, but bringing them around or getting involved with them did not make you a stupid girl who cannot take care of herself.

“Jesus Henry, stay in your lane, would you?” You said, shaking your head and rubbing at your temple with your free fingers. “I don’t need my best friend giving me shit. Why can’t I bring a guy here without you acting like a complete dick to him and me?”

He stepped closer until you had to look up to meet his glare. “You’re a very smart girl, Y/N. Figure it out,” he growled, then moved around you, but you grabbed his arm before he could escape yet again. Every time, he tried to escape. Every time, he stomped away from you like a grump as if you had some reason to be sorry or ashamed, and you weren’t having it any longer.

“We aren’t children, Henry. I’m not playing this game. If you’ve got a problem with me, say it to my fucking face.”

He stared at you for a long beat, but then shook your hand off him and made his way down the hall, slamming the door to his room once he was inside.

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

James was better than most at kissing you, and you’d kissed your fair share. He knew what you wanted--how you liked things--without you needing to ask, and it was like its own little miracle. There was no fumbling around. His lips were firm and his arms around you were strong. He was confident in his touch on your skin as you straddled his lap, and all of it combined had you a moaning, whimpering mess.

“I wasn’t sure we would actually get to do this,” He said between kisses as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Why?” You lightly chuckled, your fingers skimming down to the little buttons holding his shirt together and easing one open. “I’m certainly having a good time.”

“Believe me sweetheart, I am too, but Superman there looked like he wanted to kick my ass.”

Fucking Superman. That asshole had come out of his room at random, inconvenient times as you and James lightly pawed at one another throughout the movie, and you both could feel Henry’s eyes on you. After the look he gave you the first time he came into the living room, you stopped turning your heads his way when his heavy footsteps thudded against the hardwood.

You made a low humming sound that had James’s cock twitching in his pants, and you moved your head down to peck your lips against his. “Don’t bother with him,” You whispered.

He leaned into the light scratching your nails were giving the side of his scalp, and with a groan, said, “If you say so, babydoll, I won’t give it a second thought.”

“Good.” You smiled, satisfied, then kissed him again but he pulled back barely a minute later.

“It’s just…the way he looks at you.”

“He’s a protective friend.” You snickered and ground your hips down on his a little harder to get him back on track.

He groaned as his fingers dug into your waist, but it didn’t distract him. “No, it’s not only that. It’s like…” His lips pursed trying to find the words. “He looks at you in a way that friends normally do not look at one another.”

“He’s got some weird attitude tonight, ok? It’s nothing.” Grabbing his cheeks, you forced him to look directly at you when you said, “Now keep kissing me before I get too impatient.”

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

At two in the morning, you figured you were safe. You figured there would be a direct and easy path to the front door of your apartment as you let James out with a smile and a goodbye kiss and promises to text one another the next day, though you weren’t sure how much either of you really meant it. And you were right, there was an uninterrupted tiptoeing to the door. It was when you turned back for your bedroom that you realized the path had a roadblock.

Henry stood in front of you, the fumes nearly visibly wafting off him, with the harshest look he had ever directed at you taking over his entire face. It was a disservice to his handsome features and made your stomach twist uneasily.

“Is this for fucking real right now?” He growled so intensely it vibrated in your ears. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”

“Jesus, Henry, you scared me.”

“You actually slept with that guy?”

“Wh—”

“Un-fucking-believable.” Laughing half-heartedly, he ran one of his hands down his face, but that was all it took for the shock to wear off and for your annoyance to set in.

“Ok, I’m done with this. What is your goddamn problem?”

The two of you didn’t fight this way. Not for long anyway, and even so, this time was significantly worse than any other. Outbursts happened for the both of you, snapping, and words you wish you could take back, but Henry was still looking at you the way he had earlier in the night; like you were a reckless child he was losing respect for by the minute, and it broke your heart.

He stared at you as if expecting you to have an answer to your own question, but when you didn’t continue, he shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, and said, “I’m going to a hotel. I can’t be here right now.”

“What? Henry, why?”

His keys were in hand, his phone and wallet tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants, when it finally registered to you that he wasn’t kidding. He was leaving so fast he didn’t care to take anything other than the necessities with him. That’s how much he wanted to get away from you, and you hated it. You never wanted to get away from him.

Light from the hall streamed through the doorway as you finally began to follow after him. You grabbed at his t-shirt when he wouldn’t respond to your repeating calling of his name, and he whipped around fast with a frown down at you. Your mouth kept opening and closing, unsure of what to say.

He sniffed once, thinned his lips, and removed your hand from his body, then as calmly as he had spoken all night, said, “I’m in fucking love with you.”

Then door was slammed behind him, jarring you and leaving you to soak the night in.

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

When he said those words to you, the six words that he would never be able to take back, the ones that irrevocably changed your friendship in the blink of an eye, everything inside of you began to tremble and vibrate and beat with such intensity you could almost feel the functions of your body. Your blood was pumping a hell of a lot faster and you heart was ready to burst.

Your brain, your skin, the nerves and veins under that skin; every bit of you was working overtime to help process what happened and keep you alert as you did so, and maybe it was all a little overkill, but he had said the one thing you never thought you’d hear.

I’m in fucking love with you.

It would repeat over and over in your head, bouncing around the walls of your skull as it tried to find a way to escape, but there was no use. You could never forget his confession, or the way he said it. There was something desperate about it, weak. There was exhaustion, as if he were tired of holding it back and had given up on even trying.

It was too much. You’d never dismiss it, and God, when he got his ass back home you wouldn’t let him brush it aside, but for now, it was too much.

You wanted sleep after sitting completely still for two hours, staring into space. So you carried your body to the closest room, his room, crawled into his bed, and tangled yourself within the sheets until you wouldn’t be able to unwrap yourself without effort you did not possess at such an ungodly hour. You were stuck, trapped, engulfed by him, just like you wanted to be. Then you took his king-sized pillow, massive like his body, and hugged it to your chest, tucking your face in it. It smelled like him, all musky and piney and perfect in a way that always made you dizzy when he would sit a little too close and drape a long arm around your shoulders as you watched tv or read a book.

And you cried yourself to sleep, wishing he was beside you.

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

Henry came back in the morning, though he wasn’t sure how he gathered the courage. Maybe it was the fact that it was you. Just you, his best friend, his roommate. He loved you in more ways than one, and perhaps it was that knowledge that made him a little stronger.

He’d face you, and he’d do it with the intention of making everything clear. He was in love with you and it wasn’t going to change. He loved you as his friend; that wasn’t going to change either, and no way in hell was he going to lose you twice over.

Taking a few deep breaths, Henry unlocked the front door and eased his way inside. You weren’t around the sunlit soaked first floor of the apartment, and when he traipsed upstairs and nudged your door open, you weren’t there either. He wanted you tucked in your bed, not gone and probably terrified at the thought of seeing him, so running to James’s or Jake’s or Jason’s apartment to avoid him. That would be the perfect painful exclamation point on the disaster of his poor decision making.

Then he found you. Not missing, but snug in his bed, warming the mattress with your body as it dipped the slightest under your weight. Everything about the sight killed him and melted his heart simultaneously. There you were, laying peacefully angelic, right where he had wanted you for months. And it looked so beautifully natural.

Not even stopping to think, Henry inched his way to the other side of his bed, lifted the duvet and slid beneath it. He reached an arm around your waist and pulled you close to kiss your forehead, then tucked his face into the crook of your neck. When you stirred, he leaned back to take in your face as your eyebrows scrunched and your lips parted in a yawn.

You didn’t open your eyes but rose a hand, placed it on his cheek, and ran a thumb along the corner of his mouth. As the goosebumps spawned all over his body, he wasn’t even sure you were fully awake, but then you whispered, “It was always you, Henry. Always.”

Henry swallowed hard as your sleepy voice continued.

“I figured you weren’t an option, and I was doing my best working around that.”

After running a hand over your hair and tucking some behind your ear, Henry pressed a kiss to your lips. A short, soft one to see how you’d react. Then you opened your eyes slowly and met your Y/E/C with his blue.

“Do it again,” You said, and so he connected your lips a little firmer, tightening his hold on you, and rolling on his back until your body splayed over his.

You moaned when he caressed his tongue against yours after opening your mouth an inch. Your heart fluttered in your chest the stupid way dramatic, moony-eyed women often described it in novels. You thought it was a myth, the idea that anyone could make you feel so loved just from a kiss, and you’d lost hope for that kind of thing long ago. But Henry ripped your pessimism to shreds in a matter of minutes.

“I want you to be mine,” he mumbled against your lips. “Just mine.”

“Then I’m yours,” You said without hesitation, tilting your head back enough to look in his eyes. You nudged your nose against his. “Just yours.”

---

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Distance

Characters: Childe, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,280

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: This prompt is really fun to write so far but I feel terrible torturing the poor characters like this. Oops.

Childe

The warm wind tickled Childe’s hair, causing the Harbinger to bat a few orange strands out of his face, eyes still pinned on the harbor that was fast approaching. The balmy breeze of Liyue was refreshing – a reminder of all the things he had been missing on his long-drawn-out trip. Now Childe leaned against the railing of the ship, eager to touch land, unable to contain the excitement he felt at the knowledge of what was awaiting him upon the dock.

Though he didn’t like to admit it this trip had been a particularly harrowing one, not just for Childe but for you as well. The post was notoriously touch-and-go across the Seven nations, especially with the deep snows whirling into Snezhnaya this time of year. The fact that he was gone almost a month certainly didn’t help. If he had to admit it Childe had found himself worrying about the time more than usual, worried how it might affect you. Now he was eager to push all those thoughts away, to once more find himself next to you, all well with the world. As the crew bustled around him to prepare the junk for docking the Harbinger took a deep breath in. There was nothing to worry about. Soon all would be well.

The empty dock was a jarring sight. Though saying it was devoid of people wouldn’t technically be accurate, business was going on as usual after all, to Childe it might as well have been a ghost town. Stumbling slightly, suddenly unsure of where to go, Childe climbed up the ramp awkwardly. Finding no one waiting for him on the stone pier as well, anxiety began to coil in Childe’s stomach. Had something happened? Ignoring the thoughts that flurried through his mind he quickly wove his way through the streets of Liyue. Though the city was bustling as always, laughter and shouting echoing through the air as people haggled and joked and went about their business, Childe found himself disconnected from his surroundings. His only thought was to find you, hopefully safe and sound and happy to see him.

There was no sign of anything wrong as Childe approached the door to your shared apartment. Sighing softly he dug around in his pack for the keys. You’d probably just fallen asleep, having recently taken up the habit of afternoon naps, according to your letters. Childe couldn’t really complain if that were the case, after all rest was important and you could hardly be blamed for not being aware of the time while conked out. Yes, surely you were asleep. Then Childe could give you the surprise of waking next to him. A smirk graced Childe’s lips at the thought of it, and as he turned the key in the lock he reassured himself. There was nothing to be worried about.

Unfortunately the Harbinger’s genius hypothesis had proven to be a false one. A quick scouring of the apartment revealed that you were not there, and no signs of any abnormal activity could be found as an explanation. Anxiety seeping into Childe’s mind he barely set down his pack before bolting out of the door, trying somewhat unconvincingly to keep his pace to a fast walk. Had something happened to you? Surely not! Childe knew you, knew that you could very well take care of yourself. He shouldn’t worry.

Still the thought passed through his head, combined with an even more unpleasant one. Had you simply forgotten about him? What if you didn’t care? Shaking his head the Harbinger took in a deep breath. He was overthinking things, still stuck in the mindset of a Harbinger. Not everything in life was a battle, hadn’t you told him that many times, teasing his constant need to see an obstacle to beat somewhere? He really should take your advice more seriously, at least in this case. Slowly down slightly Childe walked to the city center. He was sure his answer would be here; and that it would be so mundane as to not bother a second thought.

His pulse jumped in his throat as you finally entered his field of vision. You were sitting around with a few people, coworkers if the Guild crest and weaponry didn’t serve him wrong, chatting and smiling and overall having a wonderful time. Emotions stirred through Childe, the urge to run up to you, to stalk away, to find the nearest fountain and jump into it; but he stayed put, staring at your laughing face, pain flashing in his chest. He supposed he should’ve felt angry, felt like he’d been stood up. Instead all he felt was sadness, sadness and guilt.

Finally turning around Childe plodded back down the street, steps slow and sluggish. What did he expect really, for you to wait around for him forever? How was that fair? There was no reason you shouldn’t grow sick of waiting, shouldn’t want more out of your life. You were perfectly within your rights to want such a thing. Yet the pain continued, spreading throughout his chest until Childe felt like his lungs were on fire and his throat was crumpled in a fist of his own making.

Arriving back at the apartment a supernatural urge seemed to seize the Harbinger. Pack, he needed to pack. He wouldn’t burden you anymore, wouldn’t continue to strain your emotions by hanging around like a phantom. Luckily Childe wasn’t the kind of person to own a lot of things. Not that you really were either, between the both of you purchases mainly went into gifts for each other rather than personal buys. Childe now stood looking down at some of the things you’d bought or made for him. Scarves, books, a stuffed animal that had reminded you of his Delusion; all of these things lay peacefully on the shelf, giving the books behind them a slightly trapped looked. It was so homey and so comforting that Childe found tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

Wiping his eyes roughly the Harbinger collapsed onto the couch. What was he doing? Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just wait for you to come home, wait and see where you two really were. But it seemed unfair to do that. After all, what kind of sleazy person left their partner for a month then begged for their love and attention right after coming home? It was completely within your rights to want more, hadn’t Childe already made that clear to himself? And yet it hurt, it hurt so much. How had he managed to mess this all up, to let the thing most precious to him fall out of his hands? He had been so careless.

Giving himself up to his emotions Childe let the pooling tears stream down his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed so very heavy. Closing his eyes for a moment Childe sighed. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes before returning to his packing. Yet the familiar comfort of the couch beckoned to him, and soon fatigue overwhelmed him, dragging him down into the realm of sleep. Thankfully, he dreamt of nothing.

“Childe what are you doing?!”

Lurching up Childe glanced around wildly, hands automatically moving to summon his weapon. For a few seconds he found himself utterly confused, unable to comprehend where he was or what was going on. Soon enough however, the situation came crashing back to him and the Harbinger lowered his weapon. Glancing up at you he braced himself for whatever was going to happen next.

Well you certainly seemed upset, though not exactly in the way Childe might have expected. Instead of anger there seemed something more akin to panic in your eyes, and the red patches on your face certainly pointed to distress more than anything else.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong, you tell me that!” You took in a few erratic breaths, but your tone remained panicky. “Why are you packing? Do you have another trip? Why are you leaving?”

“I, I thought that it would be easier if I just left.” Childe lowered his head, unable to look you in the eyes. “I figured that I would spare you the pain of having to kick me out yourself.”

“Why in Teyvat would I kick you out?” You sat down on the couch next to Childe, and he could feel your eyes piercing through him. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t see you at the docks when I returned.” Childe paused, gathering his thoughts. “At first I thought that you’d just fallen asleep or something but you weren’t home. And when I saw you out with your friends, well it made me realize how distant I’ve really been; physically, emotionally, everything. I realized that, and I realized that you deserved better, that I hadn’t been doing enough. I realized that you deserve more, deserve a partner who will always be there for you, who you won’t always have to be waiting for.”

“Oh Ajax.” You whispered softly.

Raising his head Childe could see no relief in your expression. Instead sadness was plainly plastered upon your face. Reaching out your hands you let Childe slump against you, carding your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry my darling, I thought you were coming back tomorrow. That’s why I was out. I would never think such a thing as abandoning you,” you spoke softly, tone achingly soft, “I mean it. Our relationship isn’t conventional, that’s true; but I would never trade it for anything. I would never think that you weren’t giving enough, I know how hard you work and how much you put into everything you know. Believe me Ajax, I don’t begrudge you any distance, I’ve never lacked love from you.”

“But what if one day you want something more,” Childe couldn’t help but ask, “what if one day letters aren’t enough? What if one day, what if one day I’m not enough?”

“I promise that will never happen,” you let out a soft sigh, “really Ajax you hold yourself too cheaply. You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, or underestimate me for that matter. You will always be enough for me. There will never be a day I want anything or anyone different, and if need be I will remind you of that every. single. day.”

Punctuation the last three words with kisses to Childe’s head you smiled as he titled his face up to gaze into yours. Though the panic had evaporated from you there was still sadness, and for a moment Childe felt guilt wash over him, guilt that he had caused you so many trials and that he hadn’t even had the courage to face you about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Although I do appreciate you understanding that almost stealing out into the night nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Not my brightest moment.” Childe admitted.

“Perhaps not,” you laughed, “I mean really, you’d think that it was the second act of a tragedy or something, and not one I’d like to participate in.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! Just don’t do it again, or next time I’ll get genuinely angry, and then you won’t get off the hook so easily.”

Childe pressed his lips to yours, another unspoken apology. Though you let out a small huff of impatience you nevertheless leaned into the kiss, smiling against his lips as you let your hands drift from his hair to his shoulders.

That night Childe lay awake, listening to the soft cadence of your breath, indulging in the feeling of peace that lay over him. Though he knew that his worries and insecurities would never truly leave him, Childe nonetheless felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe one days his fears would come true, maybe one day this life wouldn’t be enough. But “ifs” and “maybes” weren’t guarantees, and until that day happened Childe would cherish the time he spent with you.

Besides, Childe trusted no one as much as he trusted you. If you said that such a day would never come to pass, then surely you were right.

Kaeya

You were working late again.

Kaeya supposed that it shouldn’t have bothered him, but then again he also supposed that almost anyone would feel somewhat uneasy if their colleague and partner was suddenly avoiding them like the plague.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much in Kaeya’s mind. Of course, if this were some sort of habit then he would hardly mind; but after months of making it a tradition to always walk home together, well, safe to say the whole thing didn’t sit well. Nor was it simply a matter of you staying to work late, even the days where you finished earlier than him it seemed that you were always dashing off somewhere, leaving him painfully out of the loop.

Now Kaeya stood across the room from you, fingers drumming on his arm, face carefully hiding the irritation and concern that rose up inside him, threatening to spill over.

“I’m really sorry Kaeya!” Your tone was sincere, and the apology in your eyes seemed genuine enough. “It’s just that Jean asked me to look over the ledgers for the infantry. You know the captain is out this week, but Jean didn’t want to have to owe the City and the soldiers in terms of late funds. I promise it won’t take that long, I’ll be done as fast as I can.”

“Why don’t I help you with it?” Kaeya could feel the sarcasm sweetening his tone, attempted to rein it in he stared at you silently.

“You’ve been working so hard, I wouldn’t want to bother you with extra work.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother at all. Anything for my dear partner.”

“Really, it’s fine!” You twisted your hands, a nervous habit that Kaeya had long ago picked up on. “I’ll be done in time for dinner. And then we can the new recipe you’ve been telling me about; okay?”

“Very well.”

“Thanks for understanding!”

Though you seemed happy enough by the proposition Kaeya noticed how fast your head moved to the papers on your desk. Closing the door behind him he heard you let out a loud sigh. Clenching his hands, as if to remind himself that he was still in a semi-public setting, Kaeya stalked out of the Knight’s Headquarters. The thoughts in his head felt like static, and he worried that if he remained still for one more moment it would swallow him up.

Walking the streets of Mondstadt, Kaeya tried to reflect back upon the past few weeks. Had he done something wrong? Wracking his brain for any serious disputes Kaeya came up frustratingly emptyhanded. If you had fought over something this whole debacle would be one thing. Kaeya had a temper of his own, and petty acts of anger was something he admittedly struggled with often enough. He could hardly fault you if you acted in a similar way, or at least not without admitting to his own faults.

And yet nothing had happened, nothing that might cause such a dispute. Clenching his hands one more, aware that his knuckles must’ve been bone white, Kaeya let his thoughts drift to darker waters. What if you were just sick of him? It was certainly plausible, or at least Kaeya thought so. It would certainly explain why you now seemed to be avoiding him like the plague outside of work.

The thought hurt, as it might well do, but surprisingly most of the pain didn’t come from the idea itself, but from the idea that you wouldn’t tell him such a thing. You falling out of love with Kaeya would be been incredibly painful. You not trusting him enough to the point you were simply avoiding him, well the thought was enough to knock the wind out of him. Did you really think so ill of him? The idea filled Kaeya with smoldering rage and indignation – fueled in no little part by the fact that Kaeya ultimately might agree with you. Usually thoughts like those were the kinds you hated, the kinds you chased away with a stick, assuring Kaeya that no matter his past decisions he was still worthwhile. But you weren’t here now, and those dark thoughts were now kindling for the fire that burned in Kaeya’s mind.

By the time he’d reached the apartment Kaeya was almost sure of his hypothesis. Though a small part of his brain reminded him that he was working of a diet of sleep deprivation and anger, such logical thinking was easy enough to shrug off. After all, the signs were there. You were evidently getting quite sick of him, it was hardly Kaeya’s fault that he caught on.

Throwing his equipment on the floor, not bothering to even put his sword up on its stand, the Cavalry Captain walked towards the kitchen. What he needed was drink, maybe even two. Really if it were up to him he’d spend the next hour or so getting as drunk as possible before passing out in the tub. Thankfully though his reason hadn’t completely left him, and Kaeya managed to limit himself to two and a half glasses of cider. He needed to be at least on the side of sober for the conversation that was bound to pass once you came home after all.

The lateness of the hour in which you arrived felt like a personal insult, though really it was only 21:00 or so.

“Kaeya?” You called out, whipping the Cavalry Captain out of his thoughts.

Stepping into the kitchen the grin on your face was a stark contrast to the emotions that swirled in Kaeya’s mind. Hands clasped behind your back you stood in the doorframe as if expecting something. You’d probably be in for a nasty surprise. Kaeya smiled sweetly at you, words burning in his mouth, mixing with the alcohol. This was a bad idea.

“How was the paperwork?”

“The paperwork? Oh! It was boring enough I suppose. I kept getting distracted though, I really should’ve had you there, you could’ve kept me from nodding off.”

“I’m sure I would have. Tell me something my dear, I have a question that’s been burning in my mind.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me why it is that out lovely Acting Grandmaster asked you to go over the ledgers when I was assigned to that exact thing yesterday?”

Ignoring the blotches of red that immediately spread across your cheeks Kaeya stood up. Carefully going to clean the glass he’d been using he stared into the sink, not trusting himself to look at you. If he did all the words he wanted to say would fly out at once, and something that probably shouldn’t be said with them.

“Did she ask you that? How odd! She must’ve wanted a second pair of eyes or something, I guess.”

“Are my eyes not good enough?”

“Kaeya, you know I wasn’t insulting your work.” A sort of shocked irritation ran through your voice. “You’re the best knight in Mondstadt after all.”

“Oh really? Well if you think so highly of me then why have you been avoiding me so much?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Then let me ask a different question; when was the last time we walked home together?”

“I don’t know, a week and a half ago?”

“Try two and a half.” Kaeya finally turned around, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Indignation shot through your words as you shook your head. “I’m just busy recently.”

“Busy with made up work.”

“It’s not made up!”

“Oh really, then tell me what was your work last night?”

“I had to oil the bow strings for my regiment.”

“They couldn’t do it themselves according to protocol?”

“Not the new recruits they couldn’t!”

“Then what about the day before?”

“Kaeya!” You finally burst out. “I don’t know why you’re so quick to find fault with me right now! Just tell me what you’re getting at, if you’re going to insult me you might as well do it head on.”

A part of him admired you for wanting to look at the problem right in the face, another part of him thought of how well you knew him, how attuned you were to his moods. Just as he had figured out that you were avoiding him, so could you tell that his jabs were a misdirection. It was almost funny really, seeing the things you both had picked up about one another now used at the end.

“Fine.” Kaeya crossed his arms, hoping his expression was at least somewhat neutral. “It seems obvious to me that you’ve been avoiding me, and that you no longer want my company. What I am getting at is the fact that you want to break up, and that you evidently trust me so little with that fact that the only solution you’ve come up with is to avoid me.”

Your face went slack with shock, pupils turning to pinpricks as you stumbled backwards. Finally letting your arms fall to your sides you grabbed the side of the doorframe, as if unable to process what he just come out of your partner’s mouth.

“What?”

“Do you really trust me so little?” Kaeya pressed on, feeling his emotions begin to spill over. “Am I really so untrustworthy that you can’t even tell me you want to end things? Am I, am I really that untrustworthy?”

Everything seemed to be going all wrong. Kaeya had expected you to immediately fess up, had expected guilt and relief and then the end. Instead all he got was incredulous silence, incredulous silence and a look that screamed utter and total disbelief.

“Do you really think that I would do that to you?”

The question was a simple enough one, one that anyone might ask during a conversation of this nature. Still your tone was so dispassionate that Kaeya couldn’t help but pause. Did he really think that you would do such a thing? His anger certainly thought so, helped a great deal by his current buzzed state. All that aside however, did he really think that? When he woke up tomorrow, would these thoughts still be swirling through his head, these angry thoughts that threatened to burn through his happiness.

“I don’t know.” It was the best answer he could give.

“Then why would you accuse me of something you weren’t even sure of?”

“I…”

“Kaeya have you really thought so little about what you just told me?”

He almost wanted to apologize for how stupid his words seemed in retrospect.

“Would it help you if I told you where I actually was?”

Your voice was still quiet, but not entirely closed. Nodding stiffly Kaeya felt his fingers still.

“Very well. You were right about one thing, I wasn’t actually checking the ledgers for Jean; and I wasn’t oiling bowstrings all day either, I mean our troops should know how to do that at least. But you made one mistake in your judgement Kaeya, the idea that I was avoiding you. In truth I was gathering materials, I wanted to make a new sword for you. Your current one is so brittle and since I know you don’t want to use the sword you were given as an heirloom, well I thought that I wouldn’t wait for your current one to break and that your new one would be a present.”

“…I see.”

It was all Kaeya could get out; how else could he reply? Shame and guilt mingled within his mind, quickly dousing any anger that he might’ve felt. He really fucked up this one didn’t he. He let his emotions slip once more and now he had made a fool of himself. More than that he had refused to trust you, had ended up doing the exact thing he had just accused you of. Now what was there to do? He couldn’t exactly slink away with his dignity; even if he had managed to retain that, there weren’t many places to go.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Kaeya jerked his head up from the spot he’d been examining on the floor, confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. You stared into his eyes, shrugging slightly.

“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry Kaeya, I should’ve come up with a better method. I didn’t mean to make you worried, or to make you feel like I wanted to no longer associate with you. Believe me that’s the last thing I want to do. So I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

“I was the one who accused you of all those things that weren’t true.”

“You did. I’m not very happy about that to be honest; you’re going to be doing some serious penance for the next week. I just figured that before that I would apologize. Then we could be even. Okay?”

Reaching out your hand Kaeya finally noticed what you’d been hiding. The windwheel aster was slightly limp, the breeze that gave it its beauty nowhere to be found. Nevertheless it seemed at the moment the most beautiful flower in the world. Walking over to you Kaeya tentatively took the flower in his hand. Smiling softly he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’m sorry.”

Tomorrow he’d start making it up to you. Tomorrow he wouldn’t listen to his demons, wouldn’t let his own lack of self-worth hurt you. Tomorrow he would do better by you and more. Today he would say sorry.

After all, he had plenty of time.

#genshin impact fanfiction #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #childe #kaeya #genshin impact #requested #scenarios #my writing #sorry forgot to strike ningguang and zhongli from fhe character list they’re coming tomorrow(/today)

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

“i’m here”

NSFW (minors dni)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

word count: ~2.2k

keigo comes home and you’ve both got old wounds on the surface

warnings: sex-based breakdown/panic, depictions of ptsd, safe-wording, trauma (😎), vague descriptions of dissociation

a/n: hey folks, mind the tags! this is some vulnerable, self-indulgent hurt/comfort. i’m a bit shy posting this one BUT all the same enjoy <3

Keigo cared.

You could tell, so easily. It radiated around him when you were together, this aura that he never carried publicly. It was saved for you, a different type of adoration and tenderness that solely belonged between the two of your souls.

It was never acknowledged, but felt, and that quiet recognition was enough.

There were things you couldn’t tell him, not yet and fuck, maybe you never would. Everyone has their demons, and you knew Keigo had plenty of secrets he kept to him.

(How many times did you help him pluck and preen feathers still wet with blood? He assured you it was never his, but that didn’t ease the knot in your gut.)

It was just boundaries, maybe. Maybe. The things you couldn’t, wouldn’t tell each other. Little lines drawn to keep the two of you safe from your pains. Better to lock them up than share them, right?

Except, things are never that simple and ills hate staying hidden for too long.

...

He’d been gone for a while. A mission far off and secret.

By proxy, Keigo had come home haggard and hungry.

For you.

He entered your home and without pause, he was on you.

He tossed you into bed. His wings flared out wide and ruffled. It made him look bigger than he was, and the light in his eyes had a starved gleam that sent your heart racing.

You tried to ignore his new, plentiful bruises and bumps. The colors bloomed over his skin, even in the near dark of the bedroom.

What does he do when he’s away?

It was better to not ask questions.

He ravaged you, naturally. How could he not? He’d been gone for weeks, sending you the nastiest, most yearning texts. Nothing too long, but little notes that communicated how much he missed you, how much he fucking needed you.

And he was certainly showing you.

His lips were over yours, nipping and sucking and devouring you in every sense of the word. Hands tugged and ripped your clothes off, his nails long and unmanicured with his mission. They weren’t quite pointed, but they were still too sharp to be scratching down your ribs.

It was all a bit too much, a bit too fast, but you tried to catch up the best you could.

“Keigo—” You sputtered as he bit his way down to your breasts, tugging on a nipple with his teeth.

“Hush,” His voice sounded far too low and it made your stomach flip (in the worst way oh my god). “I’ll take care of you. Doesn’t that sound nice, dove?”

The pet name should’ve soothed you.

(‘Should’ve’.)

Your inside did flips as he trailed lower.

Your mind was going lower too.

Mentally, you scrambled, clawing for a ledge to ground yourself on. Sensation whirled, pleasure and fear mixing into some fucked up cocktail in the front of your psyche.

Why are you so scared?

Your heart pounded, nearly ached in your chest as Keigo played with your clit over your panties.

It should’ve felt good.

His tousled hair was so fucking pretty. Keigo was gorgeous in every way, the wings were just a part of his visage. You were so lucky, so privileged to have him looking at your cunt so hungrily.

You’re so scared.

Why are you scared?

(You knew why, you just didn’t want to remember any more than you needed to. But that wasn’t really in your control, was it?)

You felt like you were falling as Keigo cleanly licks your cunt through your panties, soaking the cotton with his drool.

No, no, no.

Tears pricked your eyes as he pulled aside your panties, just enough to get a look, going in for a taste—

NO, NO, NO—

“N-no. Stop.” You gasped the words, cringing at how they broke in your throat. “Keigo, s-stop.”

Keigo froze immediatly, gaze flickering up to your face before his expression fell hard and fast.

No, no, no, you made him upset.

Dumbass.

He shot up, wings folding tight to his back. You scrambled up on the bed, arms wrapping around your shoulders. They shook in your grasp, you shook in your own hold as you tried to comfort yourself. Your breath was coming too fast and hard, but that was another issue entirely. You tucked into yourself tighter and let your vision go blurry in the ripples of the sheets.

Keigo sat in front of you, eyes wide and lips parted in terror and unsure words.

“I’m so s-sorry,” His hands folded in his lap. So tense they looked painful.

You shook your head, laughing, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You just couldn’t do this right now.

“Can I help?”

You didn’t reply for a moment, trying to reign in your racing mind.

Truly, Keigo didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe moved a bit too fast, but nothing out of the ordinary. You’d done this song and dance so many times, you loved it. Most of the time.

Sometimes, someone with your secrets had bad days that made you scared of the people that love you the most.

A thick sludge burrowed in the back of your throat as you shook your head.

Thinking felt too hard.

“Not yet,” you choked out rubbing at your cheeks. The tears smeared over your cheeks, turning them hot and angry as the rabbit’s heart buried in your chest. .

Keigo hovered, unsure.

It wasn’t like him not to know what to do. He was intuitive and saw through people easily, even if he didn’t say it. And he knew you particularly well. Very well. Little details about you and your being were tucked away in his mind, always brought out in key moments.

“Dovey?” He asked softly, like trying not to startle a terrified animal (isn’t that what you were?) “Do you want me to go?”

“N-no,” The words burst from your lips as your chest squeezed so tight, you could’ve checked. “No, no, no, please don’t go.”

You gagged on air and slammed back into the headboard.

Sure, the odd mix of emotions and very unwelcome memories was rawing your mind and body from the inside out. Sure, Keigo knew nothing of what you were experiencing. This was private, all of this part of you held far away from him. This was your burden. You had therapy, and self-help books, and deep breathing.

But, none of that was working. Instead, you were staring down your lover, helpless.

Your eyes flickered to the nightstand.

“Water?”

Keigo was already sending off a flurry of feathers to freshen up the liquid in the glass.

Good start.

Keigo’s hands twitched, wings restless as he regarded you. His breaths were even and solid, counted and practiced to keep himself calm in the face of your panic.

A chilled glass was delivered to you by a bundle of feathers. You snatched it, holding it to your cheeks before taking a few fat gulps.

Slow down.

You’re going too fast.

“Little sips,” Keigo reminded you, voice soft.

You pulled back, looking at him in your hazy vision, “Little sips?”

You tried again, taking a smaller sip, swishing the water in your mouth before swallowing.

“Was that good?” You looked at him, inching closer to him

He nodded, golden and glowing, “Very good.”

The praise was a little bit of salve for a much larger wound, but it felt wonderful nonetheless.

Keigo wasn’t the issue.

He wasn’t, truly. You knew that, despite all the swirling fear.

The only issue with Keigo was that he suddenly felt too far away.

You gave him a desperate little look, hands itching across the covers.

He noticed because of course he fucking did.

(Thank fucking god.)

“I’m here.”

It was a reminder, a needed one.

Keigo, your kind, sweet partner was not the memories swirling his mind. He didn’t hurt you, he didn’t harm you.

“... Yeah?” You sniffled.

“I am.” His face was soft, softer than you’d ever seen. The pre-mature wrinkles looked too deep in the moonlight. His eyes looked too old, too worn, as he silently acknowledged those goddamn demons without a word. A little, rumbling coo broke from the back of his throat and felt yourself relax with the sound.

And, fuck, bless him—

Keigo gave you a soft smile that felt like warm honey in spiced tea that seeps into the cracks between your ribs.

“Hold me?” You finally asked, words shaking but not hesitant.

He nodded, and before you could comprehend, he was tugging you down into the sheets, pulling you to his chest and squeezing. It wasn’t rough treatment, but it was firm, grounding at the very fucking least. His arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you to his chest and holding you there. Your cheek squished against the chill of the cooling sweat over his sternum, a shaking breath finally coming slow enough to give you a bit of ease.

“Is this okay?” Keigo asked, one of his wings adjusted to barely ghost over your bodies.

You pressed closer, greedy and scared, “More. Tighter. Please.”

Keigo wasn’t one to deny you.

His grip got firmer, fingers stroking up and down your spine in time with his own slow breathing. The wing over you relaxed, bearing down just enough to be comfortable. It was maybe a little too much. You dealt with it, let the weight of Keigo be next to you and over you because he was good. You were good or going to be. You clung to the thought.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

You clung to that thought too. Keigo was good and safe. You believed him if only a little bit.

You hoped Keigo knew that this wasn’t about him. That the poisonous memories and awful thoughts weren’t about him, rather than he’d caught their thin, nearly invisible tripwire.

You’re safe, why are you panicking?

Because sometimes this just happens.

You pressed your nose between his pecs, tucking a hand between the roots of his wings. It made him startle; the area was sensitive. He quickly relaxed and went back to petting your back and taking deep breaths.

The two of you laid for a long time, surrounded by each other's breathing and grounding in the heat of the sheets and the white noise of the world. You remained in some sort of a daze for most of it, the memories fading, but just leaving you numb and out of it.

“More water?” Keigo asked, tentatively kissing your clammy forehead.

You nodded, sitting up slowly and rubbing a hand over your cheeks. The air felt less suffocating, your mind calmer, but you still felt like shit—

“Drink,” Keigo brought the glass to your lips with a combination of his hands and feathers.

You gulped down half of the freshened water, letting a bit dribble past the corner of your lips. The leftovers were swept away by your thumb and rubbed in your hot cheeks. The cold was a grounding, and the world was finally stilling as you needed it to.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” You met Keigo’s gaze from where he sat across from you. He sat upright and on his knees, hands and wings folded to his center. The posture made him look smaller as he watched you. His bright eyes took you in as well as they could, but you could sense he was still a little on edge.

Your words made his brows shoot up.

“I should be telling you that, not the other way around,” Keigo bit his lip and frowned.

You snatched his hands in yours, “We both need it. I need you to know I’m not upset.”

“You... should be. At least a little.”

You gave a little shake of your head, thick in your resolve.

Keigo stayed silent before taking a deep breath, wings readjusting with thought, “I suppose you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I... I don’t,” Maybe sometime, but not now. “But, I still need you to know you didn’t do anything wrong. It just moved too fast for me and I got...”

You lost your words and your vision went hazy at the bedsheets once more.

“Overwhelmed?” He finished your sentence with a squeeze of your hands.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s the word,” You shook your head. “I’m still not feeling great.”

“That’s okay, “ Keigo assured you with another squeeze. “Can I help at all?”

You shook your head once more.

Not right now, not more than you’ve already done.

“Just be here, if that’s okay? Like you have been.” You fully intertwined your fingers, noticing the remnants of something dark under his fingernails. More than likely dirt, but it was still a reminder. “It’s just nice to have you close.”

Everyone has their demons.

“Can I still kiss you?” Keigo asked as you dragged him under the covers.

You mussed on it, wondering if it would bring back the thick fog and panic.

“Only a little,” You told him, once again burying yourself in him. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

It was more than enough for the two of you.

Keigo tilted your jaw up with his palm, giving you the gentlest kiss he could. His touch remained firm everywhere else, but he was tentative in giving you the space you needed.

He pulled away and you tuck yourself under his chin.

“Thank you.”

Keigo’s wing stretched over you, blocking out whatever thoughts and ills clawed toward you. In a wordless squeeze, he said all that needed to.

‘Of course.’

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #tw ptsd #tw trauma #if y'all read and think there should be other warnings added #please shoot me an ask or a message #i wasn't sure i was gonna post this one but #here we are #enjoy lovies <3

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