#“He did not understand how something so terrible to see could be so gentle to hear.”

[asydicsydney]

"We know nothing of them...yet we hope all humans achieve enough happiness to be able to share it with others."

"People are inherently good, even if they sometimes do bad things."

"The world is better for having humanity."

"He did not understand how something so terrible to see could be so gentle to hear."

"The child was frightened of the unknown. Learning is scary."

"He would have many more misunderstandings, many more selfish exchanges with gentle people who only appeared monstrous."

"His soul needed room for a monster."

"The desert is a place where one can see trillions of miles into the universe, yet still live invisibly."

[froggiewrites]

i read every single one of your works in one sitting and oh my god. your mind. your words. you're easily one of the best writers on this hellsite. it should be a crime you don't have more followers because your writing is criminally underrated

i saw you were taking requests and i don't want anything too specific but there isn't that much ace content and i really miss my man. a bit of hurt/comfort bc i love pain and then kissing it better

i was thinking something along the line of your Follow Through work (sorry if it feels repetitive but i live for this type ace content) but really I'll be happy with whatever you put out just have fun and go to town with it <3

Ahhh thank you so much this is so sweet 😭😭 I only started posting really recently so receiving sweet messages like this feels so unreal honestly, it just makes my heart so full. I loved writing this, I always love writing sweet stuff for Ace, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write something in this vein again! I hope you like it 💙

Blinders On

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You're in love with Ace. Everybody seems to know this but him. Warnings: Fluff, Miscommunication, A Little Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 2.2k

You really can’t tell if Ace is politely rejecting you, or if he simply doesn’t understand your advances. You’re being terribly obvious, enough so that the rest of the ship (and probably the entire rest of the fleet) are well aware, teasing you for it at any given opportunity. If you have to hear one more man making obnoxious smooching noises whenever you two walk past you’re going to throttle someone.

“It’s honestly getting pathetic at this point.”

“Yeah, it hurts to see someone put their pride on the line like this with no reward in sight. Bring a tear to my eye, really.”

Their voices are teasing, not cruel, but your shoulders tense anyway. You hate feeling pathetic. If he just turned you down, you would be more than willing to just lick your wounds and move on, no matter how hard it hurt. But he never did. He never pulled away, or pushed you further from him. He just never pulled you closer, either. You were left in limbo, treading the line between friend and lover, never crossing to either side.

“What’s got you frowning like that?” You jump when you feel two fingers at the edges of your lips, gently forcing them into a smile. Ace is in front of you, nearly nose to nose, and you can see the candlelight dancing in his eyes and painting his cheeks a gentle orange. He looks beautiful, as always, as he grins at you. “That’s better. Now you try again without my help.”

You force your mouth into a smile despite yourself.

“There we go.” He laughs quietly, and you can feel his warm breath on your face. He’s horribly, unbearably close, close enough that you would barely have to move to feel his lips against yours. The urge is overwhelming, but you can’t let yourself, so you scoot back slightly, smile growing a bit shakier.

He frowns a bit, something unnamed flashing in his eyes, before he leans a little further back as well. “Care to share what made you so upset? You were glaring a hole into the table.”

“Oh it’s…it’s nothing big. Don’t worry about it.” You frankly would rather throw yourself overboard than look Ace in the eye that you were sitting here pathetically pining over him.

He frowns deeper. “You know you can always share with me, right? I’m a good listener, I swear.” A mocking laugh explodes behind him from a nearby eavesdropper, and he leans forward before muttering, “I’m good at listening to you, at least.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t want to embarrass yourself like this, but he’s looking at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes, and maybe this could be a chance for you to finally figure out how he feels about you. “Well…it’s just…” your eyes slide to the several crewmates visibly listening in. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course!” He’s on his feet instantly, offering you his hand to help you up. He pulls you up as though you weigh nothing, and while that makes your stomach flutter a bit, it’s nothing compared to the way he keeps a hold on your hand while leading you away. You can feel the heat radiating from him, every callus on his hand, the way his fingers lightly rub against the back of your hand. It takes all of your self control not to melt.

He leads you to his room, leading to wolf whistles from some passersby, and you internally groan at all of the comments you’re going to get after this. But he gently sets you on his bed before kicking off his boots and sitting next to you, on his knees, looking at you expectantly. “Is this good?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ace.” He gives a blinding smile at that, terribly pleased to have helped. “So I’ve been dealing with…an issue, lately.”

He nods, urging you onward.

“So there’s this guy…”

He winces, the expression so quick you almost miss it. 

“And I’ve been trying to figure out how he feels about me.” You curl in on yourself a little tighter. “But I genuinely can’t tell if he’s noticed how I feel and he just doesn’t…feel the same, or if he somehow doesn’t know.” This is terrifying, laying it all bare, but if it leaves a chance for something else, something better, isn’t it worth it to be brave?

But Ace remains silent. His face is frozen halfway between shock and despair, staring at you with wide eyes. You blink at him, confused, and gently reach forward to take his hand. “Ace?”

He flinches when you touch him. “Ah! Um, sorry. Advice. You wanted advice.”

“If you’re willing? You don’t have to.”

“No, I–I can.” He seems flustered, but you can’t really tell which part of this shook him. You try to brace yourself for oncoming rejection, just in case. “...You really don’t know if he feels the same?”

“I have absolutely no idea. And nobody else I’ve asked does, either.”

Another flash of hurt, the frown of a kicked puppy. “You went to other people before me?”

You rush to correct. “They came to me. I think they felt bad for me, honestly. The entire ship has noticed and they can’t tell if he likes me either, and a lot of people have been making fun of me about it. So a few people asked me if I was alright.”

He furrows his brow. “People have been making fun of you? Who?”

“Almost everyone, really. You didn’t notice?”

“No, I didn’t.” His expression shifts to something close to guilt. “How long has this been going on?”

“About…a year or so?”

“You only joined the crew a little more than a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You can’t keep the exhaustion from your tone. You want to say it hasn’t taken a toll on you, that you let it roll off your back, but the weight has been resting on your shoulders, dragging you further and further down. It’s only a matter of time before you snap entirely. “It’s…it’s a bit much, sometimes. But the only way to get them to stop is to stop trying to get him to notice me, and if I stop that he never will. And I think he’s worth all of it, really.”

“Hm. I’m…sure he is.” You can hear the sting in his voice, like cold water on an open wound. “He has to be, for you to want him so badly.”

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” You can’t keep the affection from your voice, or the warmth from your cheeks as you shyly peer at Ace through your lashes. You can’t place the faraway look in his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“He better be.” He clenches his jaw briefly before relaxing it, closing his eyes and shutting you out. You see his fingers digging into his thighs as he turns away from you and takes a deep breath. “You should just tell him, I’m sure he’ll reciprocate. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t.” His voice is strained, sounding like there’s an unshakable weight on his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. You should tell that bastard how you feel.”

“Bastard?”

You can see every muscle in his back tense as he continues to face away from you. “Did I say bastard? I meant lucky bastard.”

“It…doesn’t sound like you did.”

“How could he be anything less than lucky, to have someone like you?”

He really isn’t getting it. Even now, he just doesn’t fucking get it. “Are you mad at me, Ace? Or him, I guess?”

“I’m not mad,” he snaps, unconvincingly. “I’m not…I’m not upset. It would be ridiculous for me to be upset, I have no reason to be. Not with you, or with whoever it is. That would be silly. And I’m not. Silly.”

“...Right.”

Are you going to have to spell this out for him?

“And since I’m so definitely not-at-all mad, can I know who it is? So I know who to congratulate later.”

You sigh. “You really have no idea?”

“...I think I might have one.”

You lean forward a bit, trying to angle around him to look him in the eye, but you accidentally brush your chest with his back and he jumps, scrambling away before turning around to face you. “Who do you think it is, Ace?”

“Is it Marco?”

What?

“What?”

“Is it…is it not Marco?” He furrows his brow.

“I–no. It’s not Marco.”

“Thatch then?”

“No! Oh my god.”

“Izou? Or–”

“It’s you, Ace!”

His eyes go wide and he freezes. “It’s…me?”

“Yes.”

He absolutely lights up like a firework with the biggest, most sincere grin you’ve ever seen. “It’s me?” He leans forward, close enough that you can see every fleck of color in his dark eyes. “It’s me? Really? You mean it?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” You can’t keep the hint of laughter out of your voice at the idea you could love anybody but Ace, as though any man you had ever met could beat him for best. 

Before you know it, his arms are around you, his comforting weight pressing you into the bed beneath you. “I didn’t think it could ever be me.”

Your arms wrap around him in turn, pulling his head into your neck as he presses his nose into you. “Why couldn’t it be you? You’re amazing, Ace.”

“I can’t believe you believe that.” His voice is soft as he pulls himself apart for a second, allows himself to fall into your embrace and forget the world. “I didn’t think you could want me. I already didn’t get how you could like me, let alone more. You’re so…everything and I’m so…me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in the world better to be than you.”

There’s a wetness pressing into your neck, but you don’t comment. “No one has ever said that to me before. I don’t…I don’t understand how I tricked you, but��”

“Portgas D Ace. You didn’t trick me. I just saw you for who you were, and I loved you because of it. Not in spite of it, not because I somehow didn’t see it. Because you’re you, and I don’t know what could be better than that.”

“Almost anything else?” He mutters it weakly. “I really hoped you would…would think about me like I think about you. I just didn’t think it was possible. Was it really that obvious?”

“Every single person on this ship knew before you did. Someone was making fun of me for it at breakfast, directly in front of you, and you still didn’t notice. It was really just because you didn’t think I could like you?”

“It genuinely didn’t seem like a possibility to me. I figured I was just going to be pining after you for the rest of my life, y’know? Have to see you find someone else as wonderful as you are and run off together, and pretend I was happy for you. Which I sort of would be, I guess. I want you to be happy. And I didn’t think I could do that for you.” He pulls out of your neck, and you can see his eyes are glistening, a few stray tears making their way down his freckled cheeks. He looks you in the eye, while his own filled with a strange mix of affection and self loathing. “Still don’t, really. But I’ll try.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, gently brushing away his tears. “No one else could make me happier than you, Ace. I know that for sure. You are the kindest, brightest, most wonderful man I know. You have no idea how amazing you are, how you inspire the people around you. You’re so loved, and it’s not because you managed to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes, or anything silly like that. It’s because you deserve it.” You lean up, lips brushing softly against his before you pull back again to speak. His lips chase yours, making you giggle. “You deserve every bit of it, Ace. And if you don’t believe me I’ll just have to show you. Every day, until it sticks.”

“And if it does?” His voice is nothing but a whisper as he stares at you like you’re the greatest treasure on the seas. “Will you stop if it sticks?”

“No way in hell. I’ll double down. Triple down, even.”

He gives you a shy grin. “Guess I’ll have to figure out the truth pretty fast, then. I’d like to see what double this looks like.

“I guess you will.”

The next kiss takes your breath away. It makes the teasing you and Ace are sure to receive when you leave the cabin worth it a million times over. But right now there isn’t a crew jeering at you. The only thing in the world right now is Ace, on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses you like he’s been waiting a thousand years to do it.

[dumbseee]

starstruck.

F1 au/fic: in which, daniel attends the met gala and meet his ultimate crush, y/n l/n.

daniel ricciardo x actress!reader.

fc: jasmine tookes.

note: the timing is terrible

when you finally finished your interview with emma chamberlin, you saw in the corner of your eye a man looking at you, smiling from ear to ear. you didn’t recognise him but by his looks you knew he was someone important. you walked up to him and smiled back, his cheeks were red and he struggled to hold your gaze now that you were in front of him.

"hi! first time here?" you asked, waving at him, "i’m y/n l/n." he smiled again and scratched his neck. "is it that obvious? and i know, i’m kinda your biggest fan, daniel ricciardo it’s nice meeting you." he shook the hand you were giving him and gave it a gentle squeeze, you didn’t fail to notice how big his hand was and how it engulfed yours. you laughed and put your hand against your heart. "oh really? what is your favorite work of mine?" you asked him, genuinely curious. you didn’t know why but you were drawn to his energy. he looked up and thought for a second before answering. "there is too many, but i really liked you in the marauders, couldn’t think of a better actress to play dorcas." you laughed and thanked him. "to be honest, it’s not my best work." he looked at you like you just said the most out of pocket thing in the world. "excuse you? you were amazing! you perfectly portrayed dorcas and the way you showcase emotions just with your eyes is just incredible! seriously you’re one of the best actresses out there and i-…" his eyes were full of sparkles, like a kid talking about his favorite football team, he stopped himself when he saw you look at him with a huge smile. his cheeks were even redder and he couldn’t look at you anymore. "i talk to much, right? i’m so sorry, i do that a lot." you brushed him off and patted his shoulder. "daniel, you’re adorable." he smiled fondly but before he could speak again, your agent came to you. "we have to go y/n, donatella is waiting for you." you nodded and waved at daniel. "it was great meeting you daniel, i hope to see you again soon!" he watched you leave and couldn’t wipe off the smile on his face, he knew how good looking you were but seeing you and talking to you in real life was different. from that small interaction only, daniel knew how much he was infatuated with you.

liked by danielricciardo, daniel.jpg, blakelively and 5 681 972 others.

y/n: you guys know how much i love going to the met gala, but this year was even better. thank to anna for inviting me again this year, and i hope to see you again next year! huge thanks to donatella for customising this dress for me, you’re a legend.

_

donatella_versace: donatella VERSACE 💜

zendaya: i’m on the floooor girl

fan1: not daniel liking with all his accounts

fan2: the queen of the met

fan3: the dress looked so good!

fan4: y/n never misses

fan5: who’s daniel?

fan6: @.fan5 y/n’s future husband

liked by danielricciardo.

fan7: WTF DID DANIEL JUST LIKED THIS COMMZNT???2€:8:9

view all 57 899 comments.

liked by danielricciardo, daniel.jpg, selenagomez and 3 792 000 others.

y/n: we worked so hard on this one so i’m glad it’s finally out! the batman is out in all theatres so grab your pop corn and go watch it!

_

selenagomez: such an icon

fan1: y/n as catwoman is something i HAVE to witness with my own two eyes

fan2: y/n and robert pattinson flirting in imax is going to be the death of me

fan3: i hope daniel can fight because y/n and robert’s chemistry is insane

fan4: @.fan3 leave daniel out of this they’re not even friends

fan5: @.fan4 yes they’re not friends, they’re soulmates.

fan6: i understand daniel’s obsession tbh look at HER

fan7: y/n better get her emmy after that movie

view all 34 899 comments.

liked by danielricciardo, dualipa, taylorswift and 4 782 929 others.

y/n: appreciation post for my number one fan, danny ric. i suck at love confessions so just listen to daylight by my good sis taylor swift <3 (idk why he loves taking pictures of me but he’s ALWAYS pointing that camera at my face)

_

danielricciardo: that’s because you’re my favorite view, my love.

liked by y/n.

fan1: AWWWWWWW

fan2: daniel really went from watching her from afar bc he was too shy to talk to her to him being her bf

fan3: my favorite couple

fan4: don’t EVER breakup

taylorswift: you guys are so cute 💜

fan5: daniel is the perfect man for y/n tbh

view all 68 99 comments.

[ellecdc]

poly!moonwater x mute!reader? Maybe them learning sign or comforting reader when someone makes fun or says something rude to them.

🥹🥹🥹 this is so cute omg. thanks for your request!! 🤟🤟🤟

poly!moonwater x mute!reader (gn)

You kept your face pointed downwards at your textbook and ignored the two shadows seating themselves across the table from you, hoping that if you minded your business, they would too.  

People weren’t always very understanding of your condition, and those who pretended they were usually just asked a lot of very imposing questions; if you could hear, why couldn’t you talk? Were you ignoring them? Were you faking it? What was your deal? And contrary to popular opinion, speaking louder and repeating themselves didn’t change the fact that you still couldn’t speak to them.

“Y/N, right?” You heard a voice come from in front of you. You grimaced slightly but tried to rearrange your face before looking up.

Sitting across from you was Regulus Black and Remus Lupin; the latter having been the one to speak to you.

You nodded yes to his question, which earned you a beaming smile from the scarred boy.

“I’m Remus, and this is Regulus.” He said, motioning towards the younger boy with his head. You offered the best smile you could muster and nodded hello to the two of them.

“What subject are you working on?” Regulus asked, attempting to peek at your notebook. You pulled the textbook from under your elbow and showed them the front cover.

“Herbology.” Remus narrated. “I’ve always been pants at that, honestly.”

You smiled gratefully at the two; most people don’t put much effort into trying to converse with you once they realize it requires a touch more effort on their end.

“What’s your favourite class?” Regulus asked then, causing your stomach to drop.

They had to know, right? They couldn’t not know. Did they think you would finally talk if only you wanted to badly enough? Or was this a prank? You didn’t think pranks were the younger Black’s thing, but you knew Lupin hung around with a folly crowd.

You’re not sure how long you’d been sitting there spiralling when you felt a gentle nudge to your wrist. You looked to see a piece of parchment and a quill being pushed towards you by Remus.

You looked to him then, trying to see if you could spot any malevolence in his expression.

You couldn’t.

You cautiously took the quill and parchment and scrawled out your answer quickly. Passing it back and trying to ignore the burning of your cheeks or the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

Remus beamed at your response. “I love that class too.”

“May I ask something that might come across as terribly forward?” Regulus asked suddenly, causing your heart rate to spike.

“I was only wondering how you converse with your friends or family; what’s most comfortable for you?”

You let out a steadying breath and accepted the quill and parchment back from Remus to quickly write “sign”. 

Regulus smiled at that, and you weren’t sure you expected a Black to be capable of an expression so soft.

“Wonderful.” He said as he pulled out a heavy book from his bookbag; a muggle book entitled “BSL for Dummies”. 

You felt your eyebrows migrate into your hairline as your mouth fell open.

“Now, if it’s not terribly inconvenient for you, do you think you might be able to help us learn?” Remus asked, smiling kindly at you.

You nodded quickly, mouth quirking up into a smile as Regulus helped turn the book towards you so he could ask “is this the right way to ask someone out on a date?”

[fen-luciel]

Jealousy part 1

Part 2 here

Warnings: age gap/toxic behavior

Vernestra-Padawan reader/jedi Qimir

I'll update the tags as the story progresses, there should only be two more parts.

I'm not sure how far I'll go with certain behaviors, so leave a comment and let me know what you think <3

(This first part is to provide context, the other two will set the story in motion)

Becoming a Padawan was a lifelong dream. Of course, I was young, so my view of the world and what I would experience in the coming years was very limited. The idea of being taken under the wing of a more experienced Jedi master, learning many more techniques, the missions, the travels, all the people and aliens I could meet... I was bursting with happiness.

Not that the exercises at the temple weren't stimulating, I was glad to have made friends, to have developed a routine with them, but I was ready for something new.

So, when I was finally introduced to my future master, I was bursting with joy. I recognized her immediately, it was hard not to. Vernestra was an important member of the Order, involved with the Senate, and was known for her numerous successes. It was an honor for me to receive that position by her side.

Over the years, I had been recognized as an excellent future Padawan, with the ability to learn quickly, a strong sense of observation, and a positive and kind character that always accompanied me. I was often praised for the way I presented myself to others. In short, everyone saw a bright future for me, but I had difficulty seeing it myself. I was young and inexperienced and I believed that the important thing was to follow the rules, the rest was just a part of me, something I did naturally.

I imagine that becoming Vernestra’s Padawan was just the confirmation of that golden path everyone saw me on, but I was too caught up in the newness to really think about it.

However, I soon realized that I lost the balance I had created up to that point, I lost some friends, some simply due to distance, others were... cold towards me.

I didn't understand what had changed. I would never have accused anyone of feeling emotions like jealousy or anger towards me, we were children. Missteps were normal, and we were taught that it was right to face them and learn from them.

But if you asked around, many would have described me as someone who never made mistakes, who always responded with a gentle smile, a comforting word, a hand on the shoulder, or even just a pleasant company if you needed to vent. Perhaps that was the problem. I appeared too perfect in the eyes of others.

And yet, the Master didn’t make me feel that way. She taught me everything calmly, I followed her every step, she reprimanded me harshly, but always with care. She soon realized how much I sought validation in everything I did.

It was stronger than me, I believed I was always making a mistake, that I was in the wrong. After all, who was I to say something was right or wrong? I was just a Padawan. A child.

And anyway, it wasn’t the Jedi’s job to give answers, but rather to push people to understand for themselves.

Even though it was a concept I found difficult to grasp myself.

Anyway, that’s how I met Qimir.

He was Vernestra’s former Padawan, now promoted to Jedi Knight and independent in his duties, but he often visited us, either to seek advice from his old Master or just to ask how she was doing. I found him very sweet.

The first time I met him in person, I already knew his name. He had managed to stand out as soon as he started his duties as a Knight. Among the younger ones, there was a sense of reverence towards him even though we had never seen him in person. And besides, it was rumored that he was terribly handsome, not that it particularly interested me at the time.

I remember I was in the library with Vernestra, she had assigned me some basic readings to start my future physical training. Young ones are already taught at an early age to defend themselves and to learn various positions, but it was more about building an understanding of your Force signature, learning to trust your senses. The real training would then be individual for the student once they had a Master, so she had recommended these introductory readings on the various forms of combat and their use.

Those were afternoons I remembered with particular affection. Sitting in silence, she would take a more suitable book or bring her work documents on her datapad, and the hours would pass in an instant. Sometimes, I would glance at her to see what she was doing. She noticed every time, smiled slightly, and gently scolded me, telling me to return to my tasks.

I was happy. I felt cared for, appreciated, but not in the cold manner of a teacher with their student. It was a feeling I didn’t quite know how to place in my heart, and it worried me a bit, but I kept my doubts for another day.

On one of those quiet afternoons, I met Qimir. The room was particularly deserted that day, so the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard clearly along the shelves. Thinking it was the librarian, I didn’t pay much attention and remained with my nose buried in the book. Even when he stopped in front of our table I didn’t pay attention. Then, a deep male voice I didn’t recognize spoke Vernestra’s name.

Curiosity flared up in an instant, and as the two began a light conversation next to me, I slowly raised my gaze, the book almost serving as a shield, my hair partly covering my eyes. In front of us stood a young man in his twenties, dressed in the classic brown Jedi Knight attire, speaking casually to Vernestra. His slightly long, smooth hair, a light smile, and dark eyes framed by a chiseled jaw.

It was the first time I saw him. And the first time my heart beat so fast in my chest.

I didn’t know if it was because he was undeniably a handsome guy. I had never been too interested in that sort of thing, and anyway, it was forbidden for Jedi to have too impure thoughts. It was more... his aura. The amused smile but attentive eyes, the neat but relaxed posture... he seemed to shine with his own light. It was what I felt when I saw a member of the council, when I glimpsed Master Yoda in the corridors, reverence, respect, a bit of fear.

He was captivating, and he seemed to be aware of it.

I didn’t even realize that I had been staring at him longer than I should have. He noticed the insistent gaze on him. I must have looked quite ridiculous, a young girl hiding behind a book while staring at the great Jedi Knight, but the smile he gave me right after almost took my breath away as I blushed, perhaps for the first time in my life.

“And you must be the new Padawan who took my place. Nice to meet you, I’m Qimir” he said, extending a hand, and after casting a nervous glance at Vernestra, who was smiling at me, I hugged the book to my chest with one arm, my palm tingling, unsure whether to return the handshake.

Another inner turmoil came with that first touch. His hands had long, slender fingers, marked by numerous calluses, probably from gripping the lightsaber or the various missions he faced. It was just another reason why I started to admire him. I could see all the dots connecting in this figure that represented everything I wanted to become. A Jedi. A reference point for those in need.

I said my name in a low, timid voice, and he leaned towards me with a slight frown “Such a small voice, are you always like this, or am I making you nervous?” he joked, but I bit my lip, not knowing what to reply, I pulled my hand away, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he began to gently rub my knuckles with his thumb.

“Leave her alone, Qimir. She’s shy, don’t start with your teasing” Vernestra scolded him, at which he let go. I hid my hand under the table, clenching it into a fist, my skin tingling.

“Sorry, sorry. It must be a relief for you to have someone like this after me” she sighed but didn’t deny it either, at which I let out a smile and he, noticing, winked at me.

That was the first time I had dealings with him. But soon I began to see him everywhere. When he wasn’t on a mission, he stayed around the temple, so I encountered him in the corridors, in the halls, in the meditation room, and he always had a kind smile for me.

He made me feel special even though I knew it was a selfish feeling. When I managed to study with other Padawans in the library or practiced in the courtyard, he always stopped by to give me a nod. My friends were jealous, but I wasn’t really offended. Qimir was... kind.

It was like seeing the Force alive and pulsing around him. It was impossible not to look at him, not to wish that he would glance at you even just once.

Everyone wanted to be like him. Charismatic. Confident. Everyone wanted to be his friend.

One of the first missions I did with Master Vernestra was another point of contact. Being young, I wasn’t yet allowed in particularly dangerous scenarios, not to mention that if there was one thing I was lacking in, it was combat. I followed the Master almost everywhere, political life was just as important in a Jedi’s path, and I had to understand the mechanics early on for when I would be older, even though they were often more moments of leisure.

The meetings lasted hours, often discussing places, people, and things I knew nothing about. I tried to stay focused, but it was really difficult, and even Vernestra thought I shouldn’t strain myself too much, so she let me roam around, maybe continue studying, or even just take a little break.

One day, ready to depart, we were loading the luggage onto the ship. We were going to spend a few days on Hoth, and I was incredibly excited since I had never experienced a planet with that kind of climate before. As I was lost in my thoughts, a light knock interrupted me. At the foot of the ramp, Qimir gave me a half-smile "Is there room for me too?" I was still intimidated by his presence since we had never really spoken before. I opened my mouth several times, glancing around awkwardly, not sure if he was teasing me or if I was too stupid to understand what he meant.

"I hope you didn’t bring your usual baggage" Vernestra said behind me, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at her, confused "Excuse me Master, is Qimir coming with us?" I struggled even to pronounce his name, it felt like an insult to do so, as if I didn’t have enough experience to earn such a privilege.

"What, you don't want me around?" he smiled as he walked up the ramp. I squirmed uncomfortably, realizing the embarrassing situation I had caused "N-no, I didn’t mean that—" He smiled even more, but Vernestra intervened again, scolding him "Give her some space Qimir."

The plan was simple: it was a diplomatic mission, and Qimir had joined us to study for a few days with his former master. I didn’t know exactly what he needed, but he wanted her advice. We left a few minutes later, and I avoided the control room like the plague. I only entered once to ask how much longer it would take, burning alive under Qimir’s gaze, then I shut myself in the bedroom and did my homework.

Hoth was as beautiful as it was freezing. But it was worth it; I had never seen such an immense expanse of white, the ground soft underfoot from the snow, the ice mountains, creatures I had never seen before. Vernestra stopped to talk to some locals, and I approached the enormous door overlooking the ice field. I wondered if the entire planet was like this. Did anyone live in those isolated areas? How could anyone survive in such a harsh climate?

A gloved hand rested on my back, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turned, expecting to see my master, but under the hood, it was Qimir’s dark eyes that looked at me with a gentle smile on his face.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" he asked before turning back to look at the white expanse before us. I nodded hesitantly. Nervous about speaking to him, I bit my lip but managed to gather the courage "Do you know... if there’s anyone who lives in these lands?" He looked at me, puzzled, and I quickly corrected myself "I mean... besides the local species. Or aliens accustomed to these temperatures. Do you think others could live in a place like this?" He let out a small amused puff, "Well, we actually know for sure. There are many bandits or pirates hiding in these lands. Mainly to hide something, you know, it’s not worth sending search teams into snowstorms for a single man" he explained.

I made a sound of acknowledgment, but he continued "And if we’re talking about others... I think so. Someone who likes solitude or seeks peace. It seems like a good place not to be found" At that point, I turned toward him "Completely alone? It seems..." sad. But I was afraid to say it out loud, sadness wasn’t one of those emotions a Jedi should typically feel, but it felt natural to feel melancholy at the thought of people wanting to lose themselves in nothingness, to never be found again.

"Sad?" he seemed to read my mind "You see, emotions are very complicated to recognize. What might seem sad to you might mean peace to others. As Jedi, we often take many emotions for granted, but we often forget to give them context" I listened, hanging on his every word.

The conversation seemed... strange in some way. It made sense. Of course it did, he was older than me, had more experience in the field, and knew what he was talking about. I should have just nodded and thanked him for sharing those words.

I ignored the burning sensation I felt and thanked him in a faint voice It felt silly to do so, but it was the least I could do.

He smiled at me and gently took my hand "Let’s go, we need to warm up a bit. Trust me, in two more minutes, you won’t be able to feel the tip of your nose" he joked. I stifled a giggle and let him lead me inside toward the rooms. I didn’t know if it was because we were both wearing gloves or because of the conversation we had just had, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable being held by the hand.

A couple of days later, I was alone in one of the bases scattered across the ice. Vernestra was in a meeting and had forbidden me from attending due to the sensitivity of some of the information that would be exchanged. The problem was that these places weren’t particularly full of people or things to do. Yes, there was a bar area, but after the third cup of hot chocolate, I was afraid of pushing my stomach to the limit, so I stayed at the entrance, my feet in a pile of snow as I doodled or made small, questionable-looking statues.

I was so engrossed in the crooked little house I was shaping out of the ice that I didn’t notice the snowball being thrown in my direction.

I let out a startled yelp when it hit the hood on my head. I spun around just in time to see Qimir burst into laughter "Why did you do that?!" I stood up quickly, brushing the snow off my head.

"You looked so bored, I woke you up, didn’t I?" he chuckled.

I glared at him with a pout while he continued to laugh, so I decided to get revenge.

I bent down to grab a pile of snow, quickly making two balls. I threw the first one, but he easily dodged it.

He turned with an arrogant smile, ready to boast when the second one hit him square in the face.

I burst into laughter. He wiped the snow from his nose, his smile gone before bending down to grab more snow.

I shouted his name, realizing immediately what he was about to do, and started running through the snow with him on my heels. We didn’t even have time to make proper snowballs, we just grabbed the snow in our hands, compacted it as best we could, and threw it at each other in a never-ending war. Sometimes I noticed people giving us amused looks as they arrived or departed from the base, but I didn’t care, I was so happy that, for the first time, I didn’t even care what people thought of me.

An hour later, Vernestra called us back, giving us a confused look. She sighed and sent us to dry off. I felt a bit embarrassed at that moment, and I apologized for the childish behavior, but she smiled at me and assured me there was nothing wrong with what we had done.

In the end I took a full shower someone had left dinner on my bed, considering how long I had been under the hot water. I ate and, putting on one of the heavy local pajamas, decided to step out into the hallway to ask the Master what we would be doing the next day. I knew she wasn’t in bed yet, based on her nightly habits.

I walked down the hallway on the second floor, where the various guest rooms were located, when I noticed that her door was already open.

I approached slowly and immediately recognized Qimir’s voice.

"I’m just saying, if we block the main routes, they’d be forced to come out into the open" With a sense of curiosity, I pressed myself against the wall to peek into the room. The two were looking at an old map spread out on the table.

"I agree, but it would take too many resources, and we don’t know the exact times or routes. It would take a lot of time" she replied wearily. Qimir, standing next to her, bit his lip before flashing one of his smiles, "Or... we could sneak in"

She sighed again "The point is the same. We don’t have the resources—"

"I’ll go in myself. I’ll cut the power right under their noses, and—" She interrupted him with a wave of her hand.

"Do you realize what you’re saying? Sneaking in like a thief, and then what? Even if I let you do it, they could still escape, and..." He circled the desk, positioning himself in front of her, his back to me, so I barely heard what he said "No one said we need them alive—"

A sudden thud made me jump. I pressed my hands to my mouth, paralyzed, afraid they had heard me "No. Stop this nonsense, Qimir."

I don’t know what they said after that, I was too busy slipping back into my room, the conversation I had just overheard spinning in my head.

Sometimes, as a Jedi, you had to make drastic choices, right?

Or at least, it seemed that way.

I tried to forget about it and went to sleep.

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 4.

~Azriel X Reader~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: tiny tiny bit of angst but this is mainly fluff :)

Notes: Thank you guys for all the love on this series! I love reading all your comments <3

“No Azriel! That’s way too much sugar!”

Frustrated, Azriel sighed, halting his pouring of the sugar into the mixing bowl and heavily slamming the bag onto the counter, where it fell over and sugar spilled out of the bag covering his kitchen top.

Trying to keep his cool, Azriel replied through gritted teeth, “Fine. You do it then! This is a lot more work than I thought it would be anyways”.

Y/N placed her small hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. It did the job, Azriel breathing in deeply through his nose and immediately apologising for his outburst.

“It’s alright,” she smiled, removing her hand from him so she could start to clean up the mess he had made, “it’s not that big of a deal. I just didn’t want you to rot your pretty little teeth with all that sugar.”

Sighing, Azriel moved to help Y/N, “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this, you would have been better off doing it alone.”

“Nonsense, the point of this is that you’re trying something new. It wouldn’t be very good if you gave up this easy”

Azriel would never understand how Y/N could always be so happy and calm, especially when dealing with his bad moods and sudden angry outbursts constantly ruining their time together. No matter how much Azriel tried to shove her away or how many times he got mad at her, Y/N was always there, smile on her face, a soothing presence to help draw him back from the darkness. Y/N was an angel sent by the mother.

He couldn’t imagine anyone else he knew being patient enough to teach him how to bake, but here Y/N was. She had turned up at his door, bag of goods in hand and announced they were going to make a cake together before matching into his flat.

Azriel was glad he had started opening his curtains and fixed the holes his knives had left in the wall, which as the days went by started looking a little less like Rhysand’s face. He had even moved the sketchbook and pencils Y/N had gifted him off the floor of his flat. He wouldn’t have liked to have seen her distraught face if she had entered his flat only to have seen them gathering dust on the floor.

So here they were, squashed together in his small kitchen, attempting to bake a cake. Once the sugar was cleared, they continued with the recipe. Only this time Y/N hovered her hands close to Azriel’s whenever he poured something into the bowl to ensure there weren’t any more mishaps. Though he wasn’t sure how much that helped, the ghost of her touch making his hands shake nervously.

Batter complete, Y/N carefully transferred it into the container for baking and placed it into the oven. “Now we wait” she hummed, licking the cake mixture from her fingers before removing her apron, Azriel’s eyes transfixed on the movement.

“Uh, would you like to go sit down while we wait?” Azriel awkwardly stuttered, as if not sure how to converse now that there was a break in activity.

Y/N completely unaware of the awkward atmosphere that Azriel had imagined, happily skipped over to his living room before hopping onto one of his sofas, bring her legs up and tucking them under her. Azriel followed like a lost puppy and made to sit on the same sofa as her before he changed his mind, not wanting to make Y/N uncomfortable and sat in the chair opposite.

“I see you’ve taken up decorating,” Y/N teased, sight set on the wall where the holes at once been, where Azriel had done a terrible job of attempting to plaster them back up, “maybe don’t quit your job. I don’t really see a future for you in interior design.”

Azriel acknowledged her joke with a scoff but failed to reply. Instead, his focus was on Y/N’s dress now she had removed the apron which had been hiding it since she arrived at his door. Her dress was a lovely shade of cobalt blue, similar to that of his siphons, and was different to the normally bright colours she wore that reflected the usual Day Court attire. If he squinted he could trace the delicate silver threads that trailed over the material depicting swirls and markings that reflected that of the Illyrian tattoos he and his brothers bore. Azriel shook his head, no, the details were too small for him to make out from this distance, he was just seeing what he wanted to see.

“Your dress is pretty, is it new?” He asked wanting to sate his curiosity. At this Y/N blushed a deep shade of red and sat up a little straighter, “oh…um yes I had some free time earlier this week and I was feeling inspired so I made a few new things”.

“It looks… it’s great” Azriel cursed himself for giving such a poor response but he was too stunned by his shadows whispering to him that Y/N had made it with him in mind. His shadows message was what drew him back to reality. There was no way in hell that Y/N would use him as inspiration. His shadows, though they weren’t normally, were wrong.

Wanting nothing more than to distract himself from his swimming thoughts and shadows teasing that Y/N admires and appreciates him, Azriel joked, “no dress for me?” If possible Y/N turned an even deeper shade of red, “I don’t think you’d fit in this Az.”

Still unable to tear his eyes from her dress, which hugged her curves so beautifully it was Y/N’s turn to change the topic, “so how have you been enjoying the Day Court?”

“It’s not the Night Court, but it’s not bad. It has some redeeming qualities.” At his words Azriel’s eyes trailed up Y/N’s body, over her slightly exposed chest and finally stopped when they met her eyes which were staring right back at him.

Hiding their unspoken words with humour must have been something both Azriel and Y/N shared as she replied, “I’m suprised you didn’t burst into flames at the first sign of daylight. Isn’t it always dark where you’re from?”

“What?” Azriel laughed, thoughts of Y/N’s dress long gone. “You think it’s always dark in the Night Court?”

Embarrassed Y/N stutters, “Well… it’s just… it’s called the Night court!”

By this point Azriel had lost it, tears forced their way out from his eyes as he laughed and laughed at Y/N’s foolishness. Y/N looked as if she didn’t know whether to be amused by Azriel’s reaction or utterly distressed at how stupid she had made herself appear in front of him.

“You get nighttime in the day court don’t you?” Azriel spoke in-between laughs. Now defensive upon realisation that she really had been a fool, Y/N tried to help her situation, “well it’s not as if I’ve ever been to another court”.

Azriel’s laughter stopped at this, he forgets that not everyone has been to as many places as he had. That many people never actually saw the outsides of their own court. That was one fortune of his job role as spymaster.

“What do you even do for Helion?” Azriel asked, realising that he didn’t even know. It was easy to forget that Y/N was sent here by Helion, that she wasn’t spending time with Azriel out of her own free will no matter how much he wished for it to be so.

“I am a courtier. I deal internally within the Day Court. Make sure the people are happy, give their feedback to Helion.”

“So your whole job…is just to make people happy?”

“It’s a little more than that but yes I make people happy. Can’t be doing my job very well if you haven’t realised that though”

There it was again. The horrible reminder to Azriel that you weren’t here for pleasure, it made something ugly grow inside of him, the realisation that you were only pretending to be his friend.“Right. I forget you’re being paid to be here.”

“Actually no, I’m not. I took the day off today” Y/N said it dismissively, as if it wasn’t important.

But to Azriel, to him it meant everything. Y/N had taken the day off and had decided out of her own free will that she wanted to come and spend her precious time off with him. Azriel knew from his own count how few and far between getting days off are. Hope glimmered in his chest that perhaps whatever this thing growing between them was, she felt it too. That Y/N wanted to explore it just as badly as Azriel did.

The distance between them suddenly felt too much. Azriel shifted forward, all senses telling him he needed to get closer to the woman sat on the sofa before him.

He wondered if he asked the question, asked why she was here, she’d be honest and tell him it was for him. Tell him she wanted him just as badly as he found himself wanting her.

But of course, as soon as Azriel opened his mouth, as if knowing what he was about to say, Y/N jumped to her feet interrupting the moment. “Oh cauldron the cake!” It was only now Azriel noticed the burning smell slowly creeping through the flat, the two had been so engrossed in each other, in their conversation, that they hadn’t realised just how long they had been sat there.

Azriel launched on his own feet, tailing Y/N as she sped to the kitchen and tore the cake from the oven, the top of which was black and smoking.

“Well at least it’s not on fire” Azriel said and at the same time Y/N huffed “so much for a birthday cake.”

She said it quiet. So quiet that Azriel probably wouldn’t have caught it if it wasn’t for his shadows repeating it to him as they whispered in his ear.

“Your birthday? You wanted to spend your birthday with me?” Azriel was caught off guard with this information. Y/N, who had been stood there blowing on the cake as if it would suddenly catch on fire, stopped what she was doing and casually replied “yeah?” So casually in fact that she acted as if it was obvious that she would want to spend the day with Azriel, holed up in his flat baking together.

“But what about your family? Friends?” Azriel was still in disbelief that someone would choose to be with him.

“No family. And I guess I work so much and spend so much time making sure everyone else is happy that I forget about myself, so no friends really” she shrugged, as if it didn’t really bother her and Azriel supposed he could relate. He didn’t have any other friends outside the inner circle. And yet where Azriel was cold and moody, even with his found family, Y/N was alone and she acted as if she was the happiest person on the planet. Every time Azriel found himself understanding the Day Court woman, he learnt something new that completely altered what he thought of her.

“Come on are we going to decorate this or not! I hope your cake decorating skills are better than your wall ones” Y/N smiled up at him, “Ooh I totally forgot, I should have given it to you earlier, don’t want to get messy” she began routing through the bag she had brought, until she must have found what she was looking for as she pulled out a spare apron. An apron which was the same shade of bright yellow as her own.

Azriel opened his mouth to protest but his traitorous shadows reminded him that Y/N had decided to spend her birthday with him and urged him to go along with what she says to keep her happy. With a grumble Azriel put on the sun-coloured item, a flat look on his face as he glanced down at Y/N who was positively beaming.

“The mother sent you to torture me didn’t she” Azriel was sure he said it in relation to the uncharacteristically bright clothing she had made him wear but now, eyes hovering over her body once more, he wondered if he was talking more about the agony of being in her presence and not acting on the feelings stirring within him.

“You caught me”, she giggled playfully as she busied herself preparing the ingredients needed for the icing, “I was sent here to make your life miserable”

Unable to stop the words coming from his mouth Azriel couldn’t help but say, “well you’re not doing a very good job of that” That earned him a wink and an air kiss from Y/N, Azriel found himself wishing to know what her lips would feel like elsewhere. What they would feel like on his.

Thankful that Y/N had chosen to make the icing herself, Azriel watched on as she stirred the bowl, happily chatting away to him about her week and all the people she had helped at work.

It was in this domestic bliss that he allowed himself to dream. To imagine what his life would be like if Y/N was from the Night Court. He imagined coming home from work to find her in the kitchen baking, a kiss on his cheek in greeting as she tells him all about his day, about the dresses she made. It was a life Azriel could never have, not while they both had loyalties to their own courts, but he allowed himself to dream.

A tentative touch to his hand pulled him back to reality. Y/N was holding the tips of his fingers, face full of concern as she looked up at him, “Are you ok?”

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat at their closeness, heat crossing his cheeks, “Yeah, never better. Are we going to start?” Y/N’s smile returned but her eyes still flashed with worry, “Show me what you got bat boy.”

The cake wasn’t pretty. A mash of different brightly coloured icing mixed together in an unorganised mess. Some of which was smudged on their hands, faces and aprons as they struggled to try and make the cake look appetising after it had been burnt. Now they both stood admiring their hard work which stood lopsided on the kitchen counter.

“I guess we eat it now right?” Y/N said, reaching over for the knife on the top to cut into it.

“One minute” Azriel’s words stopped her reaching and he rooted through the cupboard above him looking for something. “Aha” he said victoriously, pulling out a single candle, the type made for lighting a room, not a birthday cake. But all the same, Azriel stuck it in the middle of the uneven cake and lit the flame. It wasn’t perfect but Azriel as proud, proud he had made something for once instead of the usual destruction he leaves in his wake.

“Make a wish” he spoke softly, traces of a smile creeping onto his face as he watched Y/N hold her icing-stained hair back as she leaned forward to blow the candle out, closing her eyes tightly as if she was wishing really hard.

“What did you wish for?” He asked, something stirring inside him.

“It won’t come true if I tell you silly” Y/N said as she plucked the candle from the cake so she could serve it. Cutting them both a slice they lifted it to their lips, each taking a bite.

It was the most disgusting thing Azriel had ever tasted and it was most definitely his lack of baking skills to blame. Y/N’s eyes bulged and she grabbed a napkin before spitting the cake in her mouth out into it. Azriel, not quite as ladylike, spat it onto the plate in his hands.

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday cake” Azriel anxiously said as he watched Y/N help herself to water and start chugging it in an attempt to get rid of the taste. She shook her head, swallowing the last gulp of her water before saying, “it was perfect Az. Thank you for spending the day with me.”

Realising that they had finished doing what she had come for and that she would now take her leave, an odd sense of fear sparked in Azriel. Fear that he didn’t want the day to end, that he could spend forever surrounded by the vanilla-scented presence of this beautiful woman before him. So Azriel took a leap.

“Would you like to go out? For your birthday of course”

Y/N’s eyes snapped to his and for a moment Azriel was worried she was going to say no. But then the biggest grin he had ever seen on her face broke out and Y/N squealed, “Yes!”

“Great! Great!” panic now filled Azriel as he had no idea what they were actually going to do, “do you…do you mind if I have a few hours to come up with something?”

Y/N agreed, saying how it would be best to wash the icing from her hair and change first, and so she packed her bag and walked to the door to leave. Azriel, opened it for her the promise of seeing her later on his lips when Y/N leaned up and placed a gentle kiss onto his cheek causing his jaw to drop in shock.

A shy giggle left her mouth at his reaction, her sweet voice filling his red ears as she said, “I’ll see you soon Az” His eyes chased after her as she left, travelling down to linger on her beautiful dress once more, the silver markings, his markings, glistening in the light as she walked.

Azriel stayed rooted to the spot, staring into space at the corner of the corridor where she had just left. Unsure of how long he had been there, his senses returned when his neighbour walked round the corner, jumping in shock at seeing the large Illyrian warrior stood there in a frilly yellow apron. Azriel grunted and slammed the door shut.

Part 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: would you guys like to vote where Azriel takes her in the next part or would you like to leave it up to me?

Enjoy the fluff while it lasts there’s still lots of angst to come :)

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere

@darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains

(I think that’s everyone but if I’ve accidentally missed you let me know)

[hayakawalove]

Remedy

Summary: You've had a really, really hard day today. The second you come home to Suguru, you fall apart. You tell him you need to turn your brain off. It's a good thing he knows how to help you do that.

A/N: So sorry, I wrote this with my pussy. I really think Suguru is so helpful and caring, if you asked him to make you feel better by treating you like shit, who is he to say no? I feel like I may have wrote him a bit differently in this. I think he's still the same as my Suguru, just more mean. However, I do want him to be mean to me. Thoughts? Comments appreciated!

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Thigh Riding, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Humiliation, Sir Kink, Spit Kink, Creampie, Choking, Hair-pulling, Dom/sub, Dacryphilia, Aftercare, Cock Drunk, He's Pretty Mean In This Just So You're Aware, Uses Other Names Than Slut And Stuff, He Might Call You A Bitch At One Point, Name-Calling, Subspace, Bullying, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 4,301

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Today was hard. 

There wasn’t any other way to put it. 

It was a terrible, no good, rotten day. 

To start off, your alarm woke you up late. Not just late, but extremely late. Suguru had to fix your bed head for you as you were walking out the door, if he didn’t you wouldn’t have noticed it. Just like you didn’t notice the little bit of toothpaste left on your lips. 

The project you had been working on for weeks at work had been a bust, you couldn’t help but cry at all those hours being lost down the drain. 

You missed the train you usually took home, making you late again. 

And to top it all off, you forgot your wallet at home. The only way you afforded the train was because some kind old woman paid for your ride. 

Yeah. It was a bad time. 

After hours of dealing with bullshit, you finally arrive home. You sniffle as you trudge up the walkway to your door, eyes welled up with tears due to your previous frustrations. 

Home. You were finally, finally home. 

You unlock the door and nudge it open, the warm light of your apartment bathing you in instant bliss. With a sigh, you gently shut the door behind you as you drop all your belongings on your way in. Your feet are unbearably heavy as you drag them further into the apartment. Suguru was home. You could tell by the lighting along with the faint scent of dinner. When you round the corner you see your living room, Suguru sat on the couch with a bored expression on his face. He’s watching some movie, you can't tell what it is, but it’s muted and he looks less than disinterested. 

Chestnut eyes flick over to you and a smile filled with warmth sparks on his face. 

“Welcome home baby, how was your day?” 

Your bottom lip trembles and you let out a noise similar to a whine before closing the gap, scooting next to him on the couch. 

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” He questions, pivoting his body to provide you with just a little more warmth. 

“I had- today was such-“ you bite your lip and burrow your face into his side, begging your body not to fall apart. 

He raises an arm to smooth down your back, gentle in his approach, always gentle, quiet as he listens to you. You’re murmuring the details of your day and you know he can't understand you, but he pretends he does, and that’s all that matters. 

When you finish crying to him you look up, and you’re instantly met with his face. Concern washes over his features, but you can see his shoulders sag with relief at the mere sight of your eyes. 

“You made it through the day, I’m so proud of you.” He places a kiss on your forehead.

“Barely.” You mutter and look away, your fists still curled up in his shirt. 

Suguru’s lip quirks up a bit before he trains it down. He always did favor those who put on dramatics. He leans down and presses his lips against yours, and you turn to putty in his presence. 

“Can I get you something to eat? I made dinner.” 

“No, I’m not hungry.” 

Suguru hums and leans back, peering down at you. 

“What can I do for you?” 

“I just, I just wanna turn my brain off for a bit.” 

Suguru looks like he’s calculating something as he analyzes your face. You know what you meant by your words, and you think he does too. 

“Yeah? You wanna stop thinking for a bit?” 

You dig your teeth in your lip and look up at him, desire pooling in your gut. He knows exactly what you need. 

Suguru’s always been good at that.

He pulls back and looks down at your form on the couch. There’s love in his eyes as he gazes at you, and love in his fingertips as he reaches out to swipe your bottom lip. 

Suguru leans back in and kisses you, much rougher this time around, and reaches up to grab at your neck. He applies pressure, not too hard, but you can feel your mind begin to sway. 

His lips are on yours, stealing the breath from your lungs as he begins to squeeze tighter. The blood is reaching your brain at a much slower pace, and you aren’t sure you’ve ever felt this good before. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” He murmurs as he pulls away, his grip loosening ever so slightly. 

There’s lightning on your skin as you watch him with hazy eyes. Suguru is entrancing. Beauty and confidence leak from his pores as if he had an abundance of them, which he did.

Suguru removes his hand from your throat and instead reaches up to your face. He squeezes your cheeks together, pursing your lips. His hands, normally known for being loving and gentle, are rough as they handle you. 

He’s just getting started. 

“Open your mouth.” He speaks lowly. 

Your tongue slithers from your lips, and your hands hang from his forearms, a tight grip holding on like a lifeline. 

Suguru gathers spit from his tongue and he hovers over you, dropping it into your awaiting mouth. Your heart starts to race once it lands on your tastebuds. 

“You just need someone to take care of you, is that right?” Your eyes roll back in your head as he continues to goad you. “Need someone to do all the thinking for you?” 

You groan, your grip tightening against his forearms. Yes. Yes. You need that. 

“Hey.” His fingers squeeze your face harder. 

You whimper and your gaze flies back to him. He looks at you with an expectant eye. You know what he’s waiting for. 

“Yes sir.” Your words are muddled as you attempt to speak around your misshapen mouth. 

“There you go.” 

He finally lets go of your face and you’re already missing his touch. Suguru stands and picks you up with ease, holding you close to his chest as he walks the both of you to your bedroom. He was being so gentle, and you’re sure that was because he was going to be the furthest thing from that later. 

Once you arrive at your bedroom, Suguru sets you down on the floor and he spins around to sit on the end of the bed. You’re waiting for an order, your feet awkwardly sliding back and forth. 

“On the floor.” 

You fall to your knees before you can even think to abide by his demand. The floor is hard underneath you, but you welcome the sensation as you crawl up closer to Suguru. His face is stern as he looks down at you, waiting for you to situate yourself. 

He unbuckles his pants and slides them down, letting his cock pop free. Already hard. You watch as he squeezes the base of his length, wishing it was your hand instead. 

“Come closer.” He says. 

You inch closer, your mouth hovering right next to his cock. It’s a centimeter away. You reach your tongue out and swipe along his cock, moaning at the taste. It doesn’t last long as Suguru grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you back. 

“Did I say you could taste it?”

“No sir.” You mumble, knowing you fucked up. 

“Then why did you?” 

“I just thought-“ 

“No, you’re not doing any thinking, remember?”

Suguru looks hard at you and you feel like you’ve dropped twenty feet. You murmur a ‘yes sir’ and remain still until he’s removed his hand from your hair. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders as your body relaxes. He was going to make all the decisions. You didn’t need to do anything. 

Suguru finally leans back and lets his legs fall open a bit more to make space for you. 

Where you belong. 

“Use your mouth. Not all the way, though.” 

Your lips twitch in a grin as excitement flows through your veins. You scoot forward and open your mouth wide, letting your tongue hang out as you slide it against his cock once more. 

His tender flesh is like velvet against your tongue as you slather it on him. You drag the tip of your tongue up to the head of his cock where you lap up the droplets of precum he’s gifted you with. Suguru watches silently, taking note of how eager you look. 

It’s almost painful not to open your mouth completely to envelope him in your lips, but you want to be a good girl so you don’t. 

His cock is shiny from your spit, his tip bright red in need. You wonder how he’s able to show such restraint. If you were in his position now, you would be begging for it. 

“Take more.” 

He barely gets the words out before you’re swallowing the head of his cock, lowering your lips until you reach the bottom. A gag releases from your throat but you pay it no mind, too intent on making him happy. Suguru shows no reaction, features devoid of any signs that he’s enjoying it. He wants you to work harder. 

You slowly drag your head up, letting your tongue work the side of his cock as you do so. His skin is smooth beneath you, the taste of his precum dripping onto your tongue. He’s leaning on his hands, hair spilling over his shoulders as he watches you deepthroat him. There’s a spark of pride in his eyes as he watches you take all of him. 

“Just like that,” he murmurs under his breath, sliding his hand through his long locks. 

Anyone would be able to see how badly you wanted him. You shuffle your legs below you as heat rushes to your cheeks. His praise always did that to you. 

He prefers you take it slow. Suguru is a patient man who enjoys taking his time. So that’s exactly what you do. Your head glides over him slowly, slow enough that you can indulge yourself in all of the details. 

You must be getting to him, because you can hear Suguru let out shaky breaths. The sound is something like a symphony to you, urging you to continue. 

It’s sort of hard to breathe, but you push on. There’s spit leaking from the sides of your lips, sliding down Suguru’s cock. 

“Enough, baby.” 

You ease your mouth off him, much to your dismay, and you look up at him with wide eyes. His lids are heavy as he looks down at you. There’s desire in his gaze. You know it, because you feel it too. 

Suguru holds a hand out to help you in standing up. Your knees are a bit wobbly from sitting on them for so long. You hold onto Suguru’s forearms to steady yourself and his eyes flick up to you, a small grin on his face. It’s a short moment, a break in character that shows you he cares. 

Suguru’s hands slide down your body and he begins to pull your pants off. He does so with practiced ease, the kind that could only happen with years of experience in providing for you.

You let him peel off your shirt as well, slowly removing every item of clothing from your person. You’re completely bare before him, but you feel no insecurity about how you appear. 

“Sit on my thigh.”

The request stops you in your tracks. He wants you to sit on him while you’re bare? He must see the panic in your eyes, because he slithers his hand around your waist to draw you in closer. 

You nibble on your lip as you slide on top of his thigh, settling each of your legs on either side of him. The muscles in his leg press against your dripping pussy, providing just a hint of comfort. 

“Are you sure? I'm gonna make a-“ 

“A mess? Don’t.” 

It’s a warning, his voice stern as he speaks. 

Suguru holds your waist firm, his nose grazing the side of your neck. You want to start moving, and he must know it. 

“You looked so pathetic down there baby, did you know that?” 

You whimper and fist his shirt, embarrassment washing over you. 

“Poor needy little thing. Allow me to help you.” 

He starts off slow, pushing your hips back and forth. It causes your core to grind against his thigh, the filth between your legs smearing down his leg. You let out a groan and toss your head back, letting him control your body. It feels good to let go. 

“That's it, my pretty little slut.” His voice is dark as it caresses your ears, beckoning for you to fall deeper into his trap. 

Your hips start to jerk against him, the need for more crawling up the back of your neck. Pleasure zaps your skin, making moans flow freely from your lips. Your clit is puffy as it presses down against him, causing you to fall helpless into your lust. 

Suguru attempts to slow you down, the harsh grip of his fingers reminding you of your place. You’re only allowed what he gives you. 

“Please, please.” You mutter. 

“Oh, you really are a slut huh? Begging for more already?” 

Your eyes dart away, his words aiding in the warm feeling growing throughout you. You’re on the verge of crying, a combination of his actions and words. He wants you to cry. You want to cry. 

“You’re soaking my thigh. You just can't help it, can you?” He coos. 

You shake your head and sniffle, looking down at him. He has a wicked grin below you, it makes your head spin. Suguru shifts you up slightly as he angles your clit directly against his thigh. You could scream at how good it feels. Suguru grinds you against his thigh once more, eyes tracking your face. Not once does he look down. 

“No, no I can’t sir.” 

“I know, sweetheart. You can’t help being so pathetic, right?” 

A single tear drops from your eye as he degrades you. The words cause your eyes to roll back as you rub your clit against him. 

“So embarrassing you’re using a leg to get off. Can’t even wait for anything else. Bet if I removed you right now you’d start crying.” 

He’s right. God, he’s right. As much as you want his mouth, his fingers, his cock, you can’t imagine stopping now. Not when it feels this good. 

You think he’s moaning along with you, but it’s hard to tell. Your head is full of mush as you use his body to get off. His skin is sticky below you, thigh covered in you. You’re groaning, gliding your pussy harder on him.

You’re getting close, so close. 

“S-Suguru I’m gonna, can I,” you whine. 

Suguru isn't helping at all anymore, instead letting his hands fall lazily against your hips as you work yourself on him. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum just from that?” He says incredulously. 

You bury your face in his neck as your hip jerks. You can feel how close you are, the promise of release touching your finger tips. 

“Yes, yes!” 

“Cum for me sweetheart.” 

You glide back several more times before it washes over you. You moan into Suguru’s neck, and you can hear him chuckle darkly as you finish. It’s embarrassing, but you love it. 

You breathe out deeply as your hips jerk against him. You feel worn out already, and you haven’t even done much. Suguru slides his hand down your back and pulls you away so he can watch your expression. You’re panting as you try to look back at him, but your eyes are out of focus. 

Suguru waits until you’ve come back to earth before he nudges you back. There’s a large spot on his thigh that’s glistening, your cum painting his bright skin. 

“You did make a mess, huh?” 

“I-I’m sorry,” 

He nudges you off until you’re sitting in front of him once more. You watch with curious eyes as he pushes his leg in front of your face, centimeters from you. 

“Why don’t you clean it off?”

It’s posed as a question, but you know damn well it’s not. You stick your tongue out and nervously drag it against his skin. The cum is salty on your tastebuds, and you have to hold back a moan as you lick it up. 

“Fucking filthy.” He spits the words like they’re acid on his tongue.

Your pussy begins to pulse again, your eyes closing as you listen to him. He watches you with hardened eyes as you flick your tongue against him. There’s a bit more cum than you were expecting. Damn, you really did make a mess. 

Once you’re done cleaning up his leg, although you really just made it more dirty, your saliva coating his hairy thigh, he yanks you up. Your breathing stutters as he pushes you on the bed, his tall figure crawling over you. Something akin to fear curls in your stomach. Suguru is the kindest man you know, but he’s a completely different person when he’s using you like an object. 

“Keep your legs open.” He whispers down to you. 

You whimper and wrap your hands around your thighs, pulling them apart to present yourself to him. Your pussy is sticky with cum, glistening beneath Suguru. He’s sturdy above you, leaning forward as he guides his cock into you. The stretch hurts a bit at first, but it’s a pain you are well accustomed to. 

“Pussy’s so fucking needy.” He speaks to himself, tone dark as he watches his body sink further into your core. 

You’re letting out quiet moans as you close your eyes. Suguru’s slow as he pushes himself further into you, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. When he’s buried himself fully in you, he pauses for a moment. Waits to listen for your ragged breathing as you rhythmically clench his cock. 

You’re seconds away from begging him to move. Your legs are burning from being kept into position, but you would never dream of defying his orders. You’re tempted to begin rocking your hips, but you tell yourself to have faith. 

Suguru pulls back slowly, watching as your cum paints his cock. He stops once his tip is the only thing left inside as he admires the sight. He waits and then slams his hips forward, driving his cock deep into you. You groan at the feeling, eyes flying open as he starts to pound into you. 

You’re moaning below him, legs bouncing as you try to keep yourself open for him. His cock presses against your gspot every time he thrusts inside you, almost taking your breath away. 

“See how much better it feels when you let me have control?” He panders to you. 

You can hear his words, but you can’t form a response. His cock feels punishing as he pushes into you hard. Your skin feels too hot for your body, and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the physical strain or because of Suguru’s eyes. He’s looking at you, picking out all of the reactions you make based on how hard he’s fucking you. He’s memorized them all by now, but he still looks for them nonetheless. 

Suguru shifts his hand between your bodies, placing his fingers on your clit. It’s hard beneath his fingers, trembling under the pressure. Suguru starts to rub slow circles around it, indulging himself in the noises you let out. 

“My my, look at that. What a good whore.” 

You think he must be teasing you. You don’t need to see yourself to know you look like a mess. Your eyes roll back and you yank your legs up to give him more access. 

“Say it for me. Tell me you’re my good little whore.” 

“I’m-I’m you’re good little whore!” 

“That's right. Shit, you’d probably do anything I’d tell you to.” He groans.

“Y-yes, yes sir!” 

He’s talking down to you, the coldness in his voice making your heart race. The world is spinning around you, and at the center of it is Suguru. 

Suguru’s moving faster now, partially because he’s losing himself to the feeling. He gets off on making you happy, feels his heart burst when he can make you feel better. It’s a bonus that treating you this way does that for you. He likes to watch you crumble beneath him. 

His fingers glide against your clit, pressing down as he twirls around it. It feels like a wet spot is forming under you, the result of the pleasure Suguru was giving you drooling down your slit. 

You’re inching closer once more, every fiber of your being burning up as Suguru fucks you. 

“Feels so good sir, so good, you’re gonna make me cum!” 

Suguru slows his hips down at that, an eyebrow raised as he watches you whine. Your hips are circling around, trying to feel any form of pressure. 

“Oh honey,” he coos. 

He likes torturing you, you think. There’s an evil grin on his face as he watches you writhe about beneath him. Poor thing. You’re a prisoner to pleasure, mind numb from need. 

“Gotta cum!” You chant below him. 

Suguru starts back up, thrusting his cock into you once more. He’s still looking at you with that damn expression. One that shows his dominance, a look that makes your heart race. 

“That’s all you need? To cum?”

“Yes sir! Yes, yes!”

Suguru ignores your request.

“Fuck, you just need someone else to do all the thinking for you so you can be a brainless little slut. Only used for cock,” he moans. “Is that all you’re good for?”

“Yes, yes!” You’re sobbing now, tears streaming down your face. 

It feels so fucking good. It must be a crime to feel this good. 

He’s still rubbing your clit with precision, and you’re almost there. You moan as he fucks himself into you, cock enveloped by your warm tight walls. He holds you down as he plunges into you, watching you cry from his cock. 

Suguru uses his other hand to hold your throat, his fingers lacing around the delicate arteries in your neck. He applies pressure, much harder than before as he abuses you. The pain is just what you need to toss yourself over the edge, your pussy clenching in perfect rhythm, squeezing his cock as he fucks you.

“Fucking s-shit. That’s it, cum on my cock, dirty bitch,” He whines instantly, body trembling as you keep a death grip on him. 

Suguru guides you through it as you cum, face leaning down besides yours as he goes. He keeps a hand on your throat until you’re finished, only removing it once you stop twisting beneath him. 

Suguru shoves into you again, before he feels himself burst. He moans into your neck as he cums, hips jerking as he rides out his high. You let go of your legs and throw your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Suguru’s thrusts slow until he’s completely still, lungs putting in the extra work as he breathes deeply. 

You think there’s static in your ears because you can’t hear anything. Not a single sound. There’s only warmth, and it’s in the form of Suguru’s love, steadily leaking out of you. 

He takes a deep breath and pushes himself up, gaze flicking down to your face. You look fucked out in every sense of the word. Your eyes are lazy, dragging around as you look, occasionally twitching. 

“Hey, hey.” Suguru murmurs. 

He pushes one of his hands against your forehead and smoothes your hair back. His shoulders relax once you react. You must feel something. Your eyelids close and a small smile grows on your lips. 

Suguru is an indulgent man. He hangs his head to gently kiss you, you aren’t aware of it but he could be pressed up against your lips forever. Your eyes slowly open, lashes fluttering as you float down, down, down back to earth. 

“There’s my beautiful girl.” Suguru says. 

His kind words are just what you need, immediately smoothing the deep cuts he made verbally. He pets your body, careful in his approach. Suguru slides from your warm walls, feeling bad the second you wince. 

“I know, I know, I can’t stay there forever though.” 

You don’t talk as he speaks, instead choosing to whimper. 

“Hey, I’m right here princess. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Suguru lays beside you and hoists you next to him. You don’t think you’ve ever been this comfortable in your whole life. The bed below you feels like a field of grass, soft against your skin, and Suguru is the warm air that caresses your body. 

“You’re okay.” He says, his hand sliding down your arm. 

He’s right. You know he’s right. What he’s saying feels right. 

He may have treated you like an object, but he did so out of love. He does everything for you out of love. Earlier, your mind was too full. You needed a break. And he gave you that. Now, your mind is much lighter. 

“You did so well. You’re perfect, perfect. I promise I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that?” 

You mumble an agreement, nuzzling your face into his chest. You might not feel up to talking, but you’re appreciative of his efforts to care for you. 

“I love you.” The sincerity of his words cause your body to melt against him. 

“I love you.” You reply, words jumbled and hard to discern. 

You felt so good. But you were also so fucking tired. 

“Get some rest baby.” His hand strokes your arm. 

You smile against his side, letting yourself fall into a deep slumber. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @sakui1, @reiluvr, @gothicwhore666, @bunviixo

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[r0ttenhearts]

never made it

scaramouche x long distance! reader

sypnosis: the distance between you and scaramouche weighs heavily on your relationship

warnings: angst, no comfort, arguments; fuckboy scara, suggestive themes mentioned

graduation day. the day scaramouche looked forward to since his first year, working tirelessly to earn his degree from vahumana. with his diploma in hand, he stepped outside, his thumb hovering over the small call icon on his phone. he had one person in mind to tell about his big day; you.

you had known scaramouche since his days in secondary school. as much as he had hated to admit it at the time, he was fond of you. he never admitted it out loud to you until your freshman year of high school.

naive and young, you both loved each other with all you could give.

that was until your senior year. you had different dreams that resulted in scaramouche applying to a university on the other side of teyvat. you were understanding, not wanting to hold him back from his dreams. so you made a promise. a promise to stay together and reunite once you both completed college. you would give the long distance thing a try.

scaramouche tapped on the call button next to your contact, fingers nervously tapping on the paper he held in his grip.

“scara?” your voice it’s usual gentle tone you held when addressing scaramouche.

“i finally graduated.”

he paused, noticing your silence on the other line.

“i can come home now.” he spoke gently into his phone.

“that’s great scara. im happy for you.” you seemed off to him. he thought you’d be more excited for the news that he’d be returning home to you, but you sounded indifferent.

“yeah, i can come home now and get back to you and all the things i missed out on.” he smiled at the thought, being back home with you and the country he had known his whole life.

“what do you mean, get back to me?”

“you know, get to be together again. but in person, no more facetime calls.” he nervously laughed.

“you left me seven months ago scara.”

“what’re you talking about. (y/n)?” scaramouche no longer felt at ease from when he had first started the call.

“you left me for the girl from the rtawahist darsha.”

“that’s not funny, (y/n). cut the bullshit; i wouldn’t do that. not so close to grad.”

“but you did scara.”

he heard you sigh on the other side of the line.

“this isn’t real.”

“what do you mean it isn’t? im talking to you right now.”

“we stopped talking completely when you left me. you cheated and cut me off completely.”

“i wouldn’t do that to you, (y/n). this isn’t fucking funny.” his heart was racing, voice raised to almost a shout.

“why don’t you ask haypasia then?” you spoke coldly now, the gentle tone you held was now gone.

that’s right, he had almost forgotten. admist the four years scaramouche had been away at college, he had grown bored of you. he no longer wanted to read words on a screen or see you through his phone screen. it wasn’t enough.

he had grown pent up from not touching a girl, or rather you, for over three years.

so he decided to do something about it. he wouldn’t let you hold him back. what did it matter if you were in a relationship but halfway across teyvat?

scaramouche had little to no trouble getting haypasia to go out with him. he had been partners with her over a collaborative assignment their houses had partnered up for and could tell just how infatuated she was with him.

he didn’t regret it when he invited her back to his dorm room, or when he would hold her in his arms, your calls and messages left on delivered.

as much as he enjoyed the time with haypasia, he still had one thing to take care of. you. your calls and messages would be sent more often now, your worry and concern only irked him more and more whenever he would think about you.

you were worried something terrible had happened to him as he would reply less and less to your messages, your friday night facetime dates now going missed. you were worried for him, but he was so vague and so cold. but you loved him. so you stayed.

so for your birthday he gave you the best gift he could think of.

the truth.

he broke the news to you on the phone. he had found someone else, someone better.

“i just can’t do the distance anymore.” he irritably sighed. he could hear you breaking with every word, shaking breath, and long pauses inbetween every word you spoke.

“you should have told me. i would have applied to the akademiya with you scara. you promised me. you promised you’d try and make this work.”

“yeah, well, i lied. im a guy, i have needs. i can’t get off to pictures of you anymore, i need the real thing.”

“you’re so selfish scaramouche.” you spat into the phone.

he scoffed from hearing his full name in your voice. “oh is (y/n) big and bad now? think that hurts me? well it doesn’t. i just needed to end this so i can make things official with her.”

“did it really mean nothing to you?” you spoke quietly now, your heart was torn to a million pieces. but he didn’t care.

“yes.”

“okay. goodbye scaramouche.”

before he could speak another word you hung up. he would later find out you had blocked him on everything. there was no way for him to contact you. and he was okay with that. he had a new future ahead of him with a new girl. he didn’t need to spend time worrying about what could have been with his ex.

he didn’t expect to miss you, he was fine ignoring your messages and calls before but, this was different.

the silence on his phone seemed unusual. normally he would swipe past his notifications of you from the top of his screen. but now he wouldn’t get any notifications, besides the occasional email or announcement from the akademiya.

the uneasy feeling in his chest only seemed to grow day by day until graduation day. he only had been looking forward to it just so he could get back to you. but with you gone now, what had he been waiting for?

“your” dry laugh echoed through his phone speaker, interrupting his thoughts.

“you see? it’s over, scaramouche.”

“don’t call me that, (y/n).” he grit his teeth.

“just like you wanted.” you whispered before the call ended.

he fumbled for his phone, typing out a message to your contact, only for it to go undelivered.

“are you alright?”

scaramouche’s head shot up from the sound of haypasia’s voice. she stood in her graduation robes, a look of concern etched on her face as she walked to scaramouche.

pressing a cold hand to scaramouche’s forehead, she led him back into the ceremony hall. “i was so worried about you! i was looking for you everywhere…”

her voice trailed off in his mind. he didn’t care to pay attention to her now. all he could think about was the phone he held in his hand, a phone you had blocked all contact from. your decision that he had chose for himself.

taglist: @whorerificstuff @ayameei @samarill @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @msdevilis @linkookie197 @beriiov @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @magica-ren n @scara6 @Maxineslair @jihyuniepark @atanukileaf @kenmabfasf @

[reixtsu]

Lantern In The Shadows

Multi character x gn reader! Gender of reader is not specified.

Characters listed in the end!

Genre: Angst (comfort in the end)

Warnings: hints is self harm, mentions blood, darkness, self hate

He was the light within your darkness, a comforting lantern that stood upon your domain of blood. He was such a breath of fresh air, someone that you could tolerate in the cursed world you resided in.

However there was one thing that bothered you about him-out of all of the people he could have been with, why did he choose you?

In your opinion, you felt that there were plenty of better partners that he could have been with, and definitely have a healthier relationship with. You felt bad because it seemed like you were a burden to him, as you were always feeling down in the dumps.

Besides, you as the darkness did not want to dull the light that you loved so dearly.

The thought hurt so much, that 'he was making a sacrifice for the world by being with you'. You wanted him to be happy, to not deal with you since you were convinced you were a problem, something that should be wiped from this world. The aching in your chest only felt deeper day by day as you found yourself growing more and more distant from him.

Until one day, the medications were not seeming to work anymore. The emotions ran to its climax, and the feelings of negativity deep inside became shadows that blurred your vision.

The pain, it was too much to handle.

It was suffocating, as though you were drowning a cold sea of your own blood. You reached for the knife, hoping to dull out the agoney, only to be stopped.

"My love, what are you doing?" His voice was god-sent, a comforting tone that brought you back to your senses ever so slightly.

He looked at you with such softness, gently holding your wrist to prevent you from hurting yourself. 

Hot tears trickled down your face slowly, leaving traces of saltiness behind as you stared at the ground, ashamed to even look at his radiant gaze. "Don't look at me. I'm...so terrible."

His heart crumbled at your words, a wave of concern and protection washed over him as he took a step closer to you. "Don't say that. You're not terrible."

"But I am!" You cried out, tears falling nonstop as your throat felt dry from distress. "I don't deserve you. I'm such a terrible person, I made so many mistakes, and I never seem to do better!"

You coughed out the words that have been stabbing at your core every single day, but all you could see is blood everywhere, and your demons laughing at you, saying how much of a failure you were.

"I'm... a failure."

Warm arms wrapped around you and shielded you from the blood, demons, and darkness, suddenly making your cold, numb limbs feel lifelike again. Your lover kissed your forehead, a reminder that you were a treasure to worship.

"You are not a failure, or a terrible person," He whispered into your ear as he rubbed soothing shapes along your back. "You are such a great person with many great talents, values, and potencial. You might not see it yet, but everyone around you appreciates you. Take me as an example, I am so lucky to be with someone like you, who cares and takes care of me like no one else does. If you ever harm yourself, I will be devastated."

One sniff, then two sniffles. You tried your best to understand his words as he stared at you with love. You didn't really believe his words, but you knew that you could trust that he was being honest. The blood sea of darkness slowly seemed to fade away as the gentle light gave you a warm embrace.

In that moment, you knew you were loved, and you were worth his love.

    - KAVEH, kazuha, Tignari, Aether, lyney, THOMA, neuvillette, JING YUAN, Gepard, dan heng, SIGMA, Atsushi, Odasaku (BSD), your faves

Author’s note: This story is meant to be comforting, so I know that I may give some people triggers, it sure gave me a small trigger as I wrote this, but I want everyone to know that people are willing to help those in need, no matter the form.

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── 𖥻 🍭‧₊˚⊹ nct dream on your period !

suggestive. mdni. library

haechan can sleep with you for hours, as long as you need it. the pain gives you no rest, and you try to confront it in silence to not overwhelm the boy sleeping next to you. between dreams, you have heard him wake up occasionally to check that you are better, and you have not thought about anything other than pretending to be asleep so that he gets some rest. so you are there, staring at the ceiling as a blaze of pain collapses you and grips your insides. you doze and doze until you finally fall into the arms of morpheus; the pain has subsided a bit since you last woke up.

you stretch, feeling your muscles stiff and exhausted from a terrible nap, but feeling that you can finally find some sleep: the pain has almost completely disappeared. the sun's rays have been extinguished by the thin curtains of the alcove and you hear the small cooing of nocturnal animals below haechan's soft snoring. maybe that's why you don't notice it at first; your hand goes to your belly and you bump into something.

haechan's hand rests peacefully on your stomach, giving off a sweet body heat. you hear him stirring between dreams before his two brown orbs greet you warmly. “better?” your hand intertwines with his. “better.”

jisung would make you the most delicious teas in the world while you showered with hot water. he knows how bad you feel when your period is about to come, so he would make you your favorite pajamas and together while listening to music. he would make you sleep on his chest while caressing your lower back to somehow relieve your menstrual pains, whisper sweet things in your ear or simply sing to you in an attempt to divert your attention to him. “you know what i read somewhere?” you hear his voice ask as you are about to fall asleep. you hum in response, “making love helps.”

“ji, dear. i think it only applies to headaches.” “oh,” he would say, stubbornly. “i'm sure i read it somewhere, i'll look it up for you.”

mark buys you pads when your period is three days early. she'd probably try to buy them in your favorite color, even if it's just the wrapper. he'd be on the phone with you while reciting in whispers the details of the towel package, and at this point, you don't know who's more embarrassed between the two of you.

“mark, honey, can you hurry up?”

“oh, shit, yes, baby. on my way,” he says he's about to pay but actually asks a salesgirl for help because he doesn't understand entirely about wings and no wings. he'd probably spend hours looking at the rack to buy the perfect towels, see the details on the packaging having a vague idea of the ones he's seen you buy. then when he came home, you know he'll make you tell him how proud you are of him for doing it without help, nevertheless, you ask him to hurry up next time because your ass is frozen from waiting so long.

jeno knows when you're in pain, and he finds himself in a conjunction of what's the best thing he can do in situations like that. it's obviously hard to know for sure what to do when he'll never be able to experience what you're feeling. “talk to me,” he whispers softly, hovering over your body but without touching you, fearing that he could make the situation worse by looking at your body contorted in the least painless position you found for your cramps. “let me die.” also, it doesn't help the drama you possess without alteration at times like those.

he leaves the room for a whole ten minutes and you think «damn he did let me die» but then he returns. you are filled with gentle kisses while a warm compress is deposited in your stomach. “is it too hot?” he wants to know, looking at you with worried doe eyes. suddenly you're out of speech at the sweet gesture, feeling flustered and warm by it even tho he surely did the same on other occasions. “too hot.” you think out loud, causing jeno to check the compress. “you sure?” he asks, receiving a pretty stunned “uh-huh” from you.

he peeks at you, and it all seems to fit in his head. a big smile appears on his lips when he leans to kiss you as he decides to play along. “should we try another method?”

taking hot showers with renjun is always fun. without worrying about anything since the bathroom is always dark except for scented candles on the countertop. having long, tender kissing sessions while his soft hands caress your waist, back pressing the tiles from the wall. hands brushing his wet hair out of his hair. smiling in each other's mouths, before you feel something warm go down your crotch. “okay! we need to stop.” because you've never tried doing it while on your period, and asking renjun would be pretty embarrassing. however, he only moves his kisses to your neck, “If you need me, just say it.”

he lets you go as he hums a melody, feeling him lather his hair. going silent out of nowhere before he whines softly, “something's wrong?” you ask him, trying to focus your eyes on his dark silhouette. “it got into my eye!”

jaemin would be so kind and understanding when he sees you start to cry after you have said something rude to him. he knows you are in a vulnerable and emotional moment, so he empathizes completely with you even when he cannot and will not be able to experience what you are going through. you are so upset and in a bad mood, that you don't register when you raise your voice in response to him. you immediately regret doing so, which makes you more irritated; you regret being in this state and regret yelling at your boyfriend when all he wants to do is to help.

you cover your face in grief. “sorry, sorry.” hiccups attack you as you try to hide the terrible state of your riotous emotions. you register no sound other than your disconsolate sobs, and you think jaemin has gone and finally tired of you, which causes you to cry more. little do you know that jaemin is suffering his own internal battle. he knows you don't like to show your sensitive side, should he go away and leave you alone? it must be hard to have colic and have to put up with his nonsense questions, should he apologize? would it make any difference?

so the best he can think to do is to hold you in his arms as he rocks you in his embrace, whispering that there is nothing to apologize for every time you apologize.

chenle doesn't cringe when she sees the dark spot on the sheets, and you sleeping peacefully, oblivious. but he knows how embarrassed you'll be once you wake up, so he gets to work. you once told him how much you craved gummy bears when you were on your period and ever since then, he has had bags and bags of gummy bears in the cupboard. he would remove you from your dreams for a good reason, suggest you shower together and then eat candy while watching a movie.

even when he keeps you from noticing, it's almost impossible; there's a similar stain on the pants you stole from his closet. the embarrassment eats you alive as chenle tries to downplay it. he doesn't budge when you try to take charge, instead, he KICKS you out of his room and tells you to pick a movie while he takes care of the situation. after he's done with the room, he walks into the living room and sits next to you while a weary sigh leaves his lips. “what did my pretty bloody mary pick out for us?.”

[seduzist]

that love, the crazy kind.

guinevere beck x fem! reader

cw: mentions of sexual harassment, stalking, obsession, murder, blood, smut (just a little), reader is kinda joe in this??? idk but they’re both crazy

beck was just different, different from anything you knew, she was the type of person that enchanted since the first time you saw her, looking for some book at the store you worked at. and since this day, you couldn’t stop thinking about her, stalking her anywhere, watch carefully every step she made.

didn’t take more than 10minutes for you to find out she liked girls, it was all over her social media, likes and shares here and there, it was like she was looking almost desperately for a girlfriend. and it has to be you, you were the one.

and of course, after some months of preparation, you showed beck that undeniable truth, she fall for you easily and just like you thought she was the perfect girlfriend. she was understanding and gentle, she was funny, sexy, lovingly, respectful, smart, and all of the things you’ve ever dreamed of.

everything was just how it should be. guinevere beck was just perfect.

until, that night.

one of her terrible friends invited you both to a stupid bar with stupid people and a stupid guy couldn’t stop looking at you. at first, she maintained her calm and silence, she wasn’t the jealous type, not at all.

she didn’t even lose it when he tried to hit you, asking you if he could buy a drink and giving a little drunk smirk that made she wants to take it off his face.

but when you denied the offer politely, telling him you weren’t interested, he tried to touch you, not your arm, or your hand, he tried to grab you by the waist and give you a kiss. of course you pushed him and told him to “get the fuck off”. he did.

beck was so perfect after this, she driven you home, told you to shower, helped you sleep with a nice mug of tea. she made you feel safe and sound like always, but that wasn’t enough, she had to actually keep you safe.

when you slept, she thought about the whole plan, she could stay with you all night, or she could go back to that stupid bar and make that idiot pay for trying to mess with was hers, and the second option looked way better.

so she got back, it was late at night, she waited in the totally empty and dark parking lot. the establishment wasn’t exactly the type that have cams on it, and by this angle she had the perfect view of who enters or leaves.

two hours passed, but beck was still wide awake, then she saw him, staggering pathetically, so drunk that at every step he didn’t fall could be considered a record.

she gets out of the car, approaching him, faking a smile.

“hi!” she said, getting his attention. “want to see something?”

[…]

when beck got back home, her clothes were drained in semi dry blood and she still had shiverings all over her, she did everything right? she got rid of the murder weapon, she disappeared the body, she made sure to drive back home in the way where there’s no cameras.

when beck took her dirty clothes off and went to a good and long shower, she made sure to take a good look at your sleeping figure, to remind her why she did all of this, it was worth it.

but if she truly trusted you and knew about your past, maybe if she had told you about what she did, you would have the opportunity to tell beck that a corpse floats on water after a few days of death, and that amounts of blood can’t go away in laundry, it must be burned.

when she did wake you up, through, it wasn’t to talk, it wasn’t even purposefully, she was just making noises and shaking the bed, when you looked at your side, you saw her, all naked with a pillow between her thighs.

“beck?” you called and she immediately stopped.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” her voice sounded genuinely sorry, but deep inside you knew she wanted you to wake up.

“it’s okay, keep going.” you whispered back, already sitting on the edge of the bed taking off your pajamas.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of her, her perfect body looked so good while pleasuring herself, you felt eager to touch her, but still undressed yourself slowly as she looked at you, like the sight alone made her even hornier.

when you finished, you get on top of her, taking the pillow off of her hands and kissing her instead, it’s like both of you were starving for each other, you didn’t know what made beck so eager but she certainly was.

you passed one leg through her waist, putting both of your centers together, it felt so good and warm, you couldn’t help but moan against her lips, starting in slow movements against her.

but when you looked down at her, you saw it, a little stain of dry blood just above her chest, you stopped immediately.

“what’s this?” you touched her skin, showing her exactly where it was the stain, she stuttered a few times but after some minutes she told you about everything. she thought you would be mad, or scared, she thought you would leave her, but you didn’t.

that night, you both made love more ferociously and lovingly than ever, for hours until your bodies couldn’t move anymore, that was the night when you and beck recognized you were equal, that isn’t a reason to hide each other’s feelings or personalities. that was the night where you felt like you belonged with someone, for the very first time.

[jokeringcutio]

Albert Shaw x (younger f girlfriend) Reader - Unwind (Explicit/Smut)

Fandom: Black Phone

Pairing: Albert Shaw (the Grabber) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Rough sex on the couch, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Older man/younger woman, Age difference/Age Gap, Girlfriend Reader, College Reader, Mention of parents, mention of not being on birth control. (Not beta-read)

Unwind

The warmth of Albert Shaw's cozy living room enveloped you. The two of you were set on the grey soft couch, the flickering lights of the television screen forming patterns over Albert’s face. The sound was turned off – there were adverts on anyway. And so you studied him instead.

You thought back to the day you met Albert - a kid's birthday party, your younger brother's. His magical performance had left everyone in awe. You smiled at the memory as he sat across from you, his chestnut hair framing his face, flecks of grey at the roots.

How he had captured your heart with just a smile. You came to understand that picking you out as his assistant had not been a coincidence at all. But, as he later told you once things between you got serious, it had been love at first sight. And he had wanted to see you from up close.

"Another child went missing last night," you said softly, an uneasy tension settling over the room while outside the wind howled like a beast. "They're calling him the Grabber."

Albert flinched, his bright blue eyes darkening for a moment. He glanced towards the basement door, then back at you. "That's terrible," he muttered, his voice low and gruff. You noticed the way his fingers tapped nervously on the armrest of the couch, but you continued talking, trying to fill the silence that threatened to swallow you both.

"Everyone in Denver is terrified. No one knows who it could be." Your voice wavered, betraying your own fear. "Can you imagine what those poor families must be going through?"

Albert pursed his lips, staring ahead of him before his blue eyes finally found yours. You didn’t need to voice the fear that was deep inside of you. Your brother was just the right age to be of interest to the mysterious kidnapper that plagued your city.

“I don’t want you to worry about it, dear,” he said, voice low and smooth. Whenever you heard him you felt butterflies fluttering deep inside. How could a man sound like this and be real? It sounded too good to be true. But here he was, with you, comforting you.

“If you worry about your brother, know that I am here,” his hand gave yours a gentle squeeze, and a small smile played on his lips. “I’ll make sure the Grabber doesn’t get him.”

You let out a soft laugh. His words were exactly what you needed to hear. “Then I am happy to have such a heroic man as my boyfriend.”

Next to your side, Albert seemed to stiffen, then his eyes settled on you again and he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah,” was all he said. But you’d noticed it. Something was off about him, had been off for a while. But today it was worse. There was a certain glint to his eyes, a twitch to his hands. As if he was nervous.

"Albert," you said gently, noticing his jitteriness. "Is everything alright? Did something happen at work?"

He avoided your gaze and shook his head. "No, nothing happened. I'm just... a little on edge, that's all." His fingers brushed against yours as he let out a low chuckle. "You know what could help me relax, though, don't you?"

You furrowed your brow, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. He had always been a bit cryptic, but this time, you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

“Want some tea? Or a massage?” You stuttered, thinking of all the possible things that could help make him relax. “I could run you a hot bath?”

“Hmm, a massage sounds about right,” Albert hummed, hand withdrawing from the armrest as he turned to look at you, blue eyes glinting in the dim light of the room. “A very specific massage.”

You blinked at him, mind raking over the possible types of massage that there existed. “Sure,’ you said.

You watched as he moved his hands downward until they rested above the bulge between his legs. In the dim light, you hadn’t quite recognized the tent he was sporting. And when he remained silent and just observed you patiently, as if waiting for something, you grew worried.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" you asked, concern lacing your voice. You wanted to be there for him, to support him through whatever was causing him distress.

"Maybe you could... help me unwind?" Albert suggested with a sly grin, leaning closer to you. His hand slid up your arm, fingertips sending shivers down your spine. "You've got such a soothing touch."

You blinked in confusion, still not fully grasping the implications of his words. Your heart pounded in your chest, an odd mixture of anxiety and excitement bubbling within you. Albert's closeness was both comforting and electrifying, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"Of course," you murmured, unsure of what he truly desired, yet eager to bring him relief from his tension.

His lips descended on your hair again, then slowly trailed down to your cheek. Open-mouthed kisses, with his tongue peeking out every now and again. His hand grasped yours and placed it on his bulge where you felt him swell underneath your palm and e fabric. Your eyes widened when you finally understood what this was all leading to.

"Albert," you whispered, realization finally dawning upon you. "You want me to...?"

"Help me find release," he finished your sentence, his voice husky and low. The intensity in his bright blue eyes darkened as desire consumed him.

"Of course," you breathed, a shiver of anticipation running through you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His lips met yours hungrily, pressing forcefully against your own.

He responded with a needy growl, his hands gripping your waist tightly, almost painfully so.

"Such a good girl," he praised between fevered kisses, his chestnut brown hair brushing against your face as he moved to your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there. Your whimpers only seemed to spur him on further as his hand slid underneath your shirt and bra.

He peeled away your clothes one by one, mouth feverishly covering all parts of you, leaving no part of you unexplored. All the while, your hand moved up and down his bulge, still covered by his pants. A wet spot had started to form, soaking through his clothes. And a low groan near your ear made you look up to see a hunger in his eyes that left you breathless.

His rough hands explored every inch of your body, leaving no part untouched. The forcefulness of his actions sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you acutely aware of how much you craved this side of him. He bent you over the couch, flipped you, and angled you in such ways as gave him the most pleasure. The light of the television lit your body and formed patterns of fireworks and stars across your naked skin as Albert undid his belt.

The revelation made your mouth water. It wasn’t that you hadn’t ever done this before. Albert had been quite persuasive and you had been just as hungry for him to allow him to take you to his bed. You’d bled for him that first time, had tasted him out of curiosity, had allowed him to own you completely and fuck all of your holes. And now that he craved you, you felt you craved him as well.

Let him unwind. You could do with a little fun yourself.

"Please," you gasped, desperate for him to take you completely. "I need you, Albert."

He didn't need any more encouragement. He flipped you over until you were lying on your tummy on the couch. His hand pressed your head down while the other traced past your hip – gently.

His breath stuttered –  a deep inhale that sounded more like a beast ready to pounce on its prey. Perhaps it was, because, in one swift motion, he entered you, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. He moved his hips without allowing you to accommodate, tight pussy being stretched unreasonably past its limits. The pain quickly gave way to exquisite pleasure as he started to move, and you pushed your hands against the couch as he thrust into you with a ferocity that made your head spin. The loud moan that escaped you had Albert halt.

“Be quiet now, baby girl,” his low voice grunted. “We don’t want to wake Samson.”

You glanced over at where the dog was, thinking that surely the creature would not mind. But Albert had been more often like this. One day he wanted you to scream, the next he wanted no one to know he was fucking his much younger girlfriend.

“Can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep silent. But it took effort as his hips pushed against your pelvis deliciously hard, like a man possessed. For a moment you thought about asking him to be gentler with you, but then you remembered you’d promised to help him out. And if this was what he needed, then let him have it. You could take it.

He moved with fierce movements, cockhead hitting your cervix with bruising force, over and over. It was different than any fucking you had before. How could you remain silent like this?

You gasped and clawed your fingers against the couch in an attempt to get some leverage. He straightened his spine and then raised your hips, propping a pillow underneath, before he bore down deep inside of your cunt, grunting and groaning as he punished your pussy relentlessly with harsh thrusts. He was no longer a man, but something from Hell. Something devilish, both in looks and actions.

“So tight,” he groaned, words like hoarse whispers falling from his lips. “So fucking good.”

Soft gasps and unbidden moans escaped your lips as wet squelching sounds filled the room. A dull ache was felt deep below, and you bit your lip to keep from crying out. The scent of sex tainted the air and sweat made your bodies shimmer in the flickering lights.

Animalistic groans escaped the man above you and you wished you could see him. But he had your head pushed forward onto the couch, ass against his chest while his cock nestled deep inside your cunt while he groaned. He pulsed deep inside of you. Had he come? He hadn’t, right?

He left you no time to ponder because his hand grasped your hair and pulled at it, hand forming a fist as he lifted you from your current position. He was thrusting harshly inside of you again. You’d never known him like this before. So wild, so violent. Yet your pussy loved it, walls fluttering around his shaft in a way you never had experienced before.

The thrusts were deep, too deep perhaps, and you were gasping, biting back pleas to be gentle because you fucking loved it. You loved how he roughly manhandled you until you knew that bruises from his hands would form on your arms and hips.

You loved how good his cock felt battering deep inside your cunt even if you knew it would leave you sore for days to come. You loved how he dominated you, uncaring about your well-being or your wishes or the fact that he wasn’t supposed to come inside. His hips moved against yours roughly, and as he tried to reposition you – being so strong despite his age – your arm bumped against the table next to the couch, accidentally knocking something off the table. You turned your head to look, even if Albert tried to pull you back for a kiss.

The television’s light became bright, illuminating a hideous grin that stared up at you. Taunting. Haunting.

“What is that mask doing here?” you wondered, catching a glimpse of what could only be described as a demonic-looking mask, bigger than Albert’s head.

Your head was forcefully tugged aside, the grip on your hair making you flinch and unable to look at the mask any longer, as Albert guided you back onto the couch until you were on your back with him on top, legs spread wide at either side of his chest, allowing him to plow as deep inside of you as your tight little channel allowed. When he re-entered you, the slick sounds were a disturbing indicator of how wet he had made you.

“I said, keep your mouth shut,” Albert said through gritted teeth, forcing your head to turn so you were looking at him again. A thrust of his hips, a wet squelch as cum slipped past the hilt of his cock, escaping the depths of your cunt.

He was on his way to his second orgasm, hips stuttering irregularly against your own. You did not see it though, only heard the wet sounds from where your bodies met and felt the irregularity of his thrusts.

“Lips sealed, sweetheart,” he muttered before he descended upon you once more, lips hungrily working against your own.

You gasped, allowing him easy access until his tongue was licking against yours. You kissed him back just as eagerly, hands finding a way to his chest to hold him – perhaps teasing his nipples a bit deliberately but he had definitely earned that.

The kiss ended abruptly. Your mind was foggy and no longer focused on the hideous mask you had seen. Instead, all you could focus on was his mesmerizing blue half-lidded eyes as he studied you in between thrusts. His right hand grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head. His left rested on your waist, near your hipbone, pressing down possessively.

It felt good, so good.

"Mine," he grunted, eyes locked onto yours as he claimed you entirely. His relentless pace continued, pushing you both towards a precipice neither of you could resist.

"Yours," you managed to choke out, overcome by the intensity of the moment. The hard fucking was delicious, the battering of his cock against your cervix sent ripples of pleasure down your core until your walls pulsed around his shaft, milking him, begging him to come.

He hunched over you, his chest warm against your breasts as he rutted into you like a beast in heat. As the wave of ecstasy crashed over you, his grip held your hands above your head while your pussy pulsed around his throbbing cock. You gasped as he leaned in even further, folding you even more than you were, getting in so deep it hurt.

"Remember this," Albert panted, his gaze never leaving yours. The world around you seemed to blur and fade away, leaving only the two of you tangled together in a moment of raw, unbridled passion. “Only I can give you what you crave.”

And you believed him. He had ruined you, he once told you. And in this moment, you fully believed he had.

Albert groaned your name in your ear as he came, as the warmth of his cum filled you for a second time and a low groan exhibited his release. Wordlessly, Albert moved his hips against you, his cock moving inside you with less force now, thrusts light. You gasped, eyes searching for his. But he was studying the way your bodies connected. Another low groan as he carefully slipped from your core.

A deep sigh and a rustle of the couch as Albert got up off it to get some tissues. You watched through half-lidded eyes how he cleaned his cock, then got out some fresh tissues to dab between your legs. He halted there, looking up at you to make sure he had your attention, tissue still pressed against your weeping cunt.

“I got a bit rough with you, sweetheart,” he said, although you were not quite sure if it was an apology or just a statement.

You flashed him a small smile, lying on your back, sated. “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you quipped.

Albert grinned and continued wiping your sore pussy clean. You noticed the copious amount of cum that came into the tissues, but decided not to comment on any of it. You’d get the morning-after pill, you decided quietly. He didn’t need to know or worry, and neither should you.

After you were both presentable again, you felt how Albert scooted on the couch with you. He held you close, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. His lips, tender and searching, found yours in a kiss that was both soft and intense. It felt as if he was trying to convey his deepest emotions through the delicate press of skin against skin.

"God," he murmured, his breath warm on your cheek. "I don't know how I got so lucky."

His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, banishing the chill that had begun to seep into your bones. You smiled, nestling closer to him as your fingers traced lazy patterns on the expanse of his chest.

"Me neither," you whispered, feeling a sense of belonging that you hadn't known was possible.

Moments later, Albert reluctantly untangled himself from you, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to memorize every detail. With a soft kiss placed on your forehead, he rose from the couch and made his way to the bathroom.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you were left alone with your thoughts. The memory of Albert's rough touch lingered on your skin. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized just how much you'd enjoyed it. The raw, unbridled passion. You enjoyed it too.

And then, how you had allowed him to fully conquer you. It should raise questions. In a way, it did, because you should have stopped him from having this unprotected sex when he knew you weren’t on the pill. You wanted to, but… something about money. Plus, you were still in college and your parents were being a bitch about you dating anyone.

You couldn't help but wonder how you could introduce Albert to them. They would surely question your relationship with someone so much older than you. But you were certain they would come to see what a genuinely incredible man he was – if only they could look past the age difference. They had liked him at your brother’s party. Your dad had always spoken highly of Albert, knowing him of the Denver bowling team.

Carefully, you got off the couch, not completely surprised when a squelch announced some more cum escaping your core. Annoyed by the mess that dribbled down your legs, and the fact that Albert was keeping the bathroom occupied, you threw on your sweater and walked to the kitchen instead.

You rinsed your hands with water before taking another tissue to dab between your legs. Was sex always this messy, you wondered? The times you and Albert had been at it, he’d often pulled out and cum over your chest. You’d even swallowed his load a few times. But this… this was new.

Not to say you didn’t like it.

Lost in thought, you were startled by a sudden pounding noise coming from the direction of the basement door. Your heart skipped a beat as the eerie sound echoed through the otherwise silent house.

"Albert?" you called out, hoping that the noise was nothing more than a trick of your imagination. But the banging continued, insistent and undeniable.

“Samson?” you asked, hoping it was Albert’s dog. But Samson came padding around the corner and looked at you with blurry eyes, as if your call had just awoken him.

“Hmm, not Samson then,” you whispered, patting the dog on his head and telling him he was a good boy – even if Samson sniffed between your legs, pressing his wet nose a bit too close to your private parts before letting out a happy yip and scurrying back into the living room again.

Tentatively, you pulled the sweater lower so it covered most of your hips, making you feel a little less exposed as you as you approached the door. A sense of dread began to worm its way into your chest, tightening its grip with every step you took.

"Albert?" you called again, more urgently this time. There was no response, only the relentless pounding that seemed to grow louder with each passing second.

Finally, you reached the door, your hand hovering uncertainly above the doorknob. Inhaling a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever lay beyond. With your heart hammering in your chest, you grasped the cold metal and turned it.

~

Fin

~

AN: Whoops, sorry not so sorry about that ending. Anyway, I wrote this in a hurry and slept 12 hours after my latest hospital visit yesterday, so pardon any inconsistencies or mistakes.

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Love you all

[captain-mj]

"Werewolf Price being hit with pheromones and they expect him to go feral or be evil but really he just herds everyone up and bumps heads with Ghost and grooms Gaz and fucks Graves until he can’t take it anymore safely outside of the sights of everyone else"

I love it, I want it, I expect it. Please!!! I've been good I SWEAR!! Never sent a ask so fast!

Well i got to write it now, i got you <3

Price suffered from lycanthropy. Some people preferred to say they had it or even blessed with it. But no. He suffered from it. It was a rather big weakness to have in war, even if his advanced senses were sometimes helpful.

Pheromones. The smoke bombs were laced with them. His rational thoughts were slowly slipping away, leaving just bare instincts.

Ghost grabbed him. He could tell by the smell. The ease he had in lifting him up. His grip felt very tight though, with Price able to feel each and every fingertip digging deep into his skin. It was confusing why his pack member would hurt him, but it must be for a good reason.

Price went limp to allow Ghost to carry him easier. He could hear Ghost telling him he was being good as he moved him away from everything, holding him so tight Price was sure if he tried to yank away he'd either hurt himself or Ghost.

Everything was so loud. Every sound amplified and echoed. The sights. Different smells mixed together until he felt nauseous.

The floor is cold where he's being pressed against it. Ghost's hands were warm where they're against his face and Price tries and fails to jerk up off the floor. He's growling, trying to get someone to understand the floor is too cold for him to lay on. Everything is loud and everything is terrible and and and

Gaz pulls him to sit down, Price's body between his legs. He puts both hands firmly on his shoulders and Price relaxes. It doesn't occur to him that Gaz did this in case he needed to trap him. One of his pack members was there to reassure him everything was alright.

Price had no recollection on how they got to the safe house. He only knew that his sense had calmed enough to no longer overstimulate him, though he was no more rational than he had been when first hit. He pushed the three of them around until he got them all herded together in one room. Soap laughed a little and got a gentle headbutt for it.

Price relaxes once he had all of them, trying to groom Gaz after a minute. He was more like an actual wolf with his dynamics. There was his mate (not there) and his wards. He was not an 'alpha', just a pack leader. And his pack was very important to him. It was incomplete right now.

He focused on trying to get Gaz presentable. The rather tight grip on him relaxed so he could focus on keeping them in the room and safe.

Ghost got smart and made a place on the floor for them to be able to stay with their bedrolls.

Price relaxed and laid on the floor next to them, watching them.

Time ticks away strangely. He can tell he should go to sleep. But this is a Shadow safehouse they're using. The smell around him makes the ache of not having everyone together more apparent. His nose keeps twitching.

There's movement at the door and he bows up immediately, growling. He quickly gets to it and waits, ready to pounce.

Graves.

Price relaxed and grabbed him.

"John?" He sounded surprised, but didn't fight him. Price forced him away from the others who were all sleeping anyway.

"I'm glad to know you're safe. Was a bit worried when they said you were hit with something." Graves looked up and smiled before pausing when he saw how Price's eyes looked. "John?"

Price moved closer, his feet lightly kicking at Grave's so he'd keep moving back. Without him truly realizing it, Price had herded Graves into a different room. The lights were still off so Graves couldn't see very well. But Price could.

"Oh." Graves purred. "I get it. You been missing me?"

Price panted, walking forward. He buried his face in his mate's neck and took a deep breath. God he smells so good. His tongue flicked out to lick over his skin and Graves groaned.

Graves was smart enough to work himself out of his gear before Price tore it. He let Price pick him up and toss him on the bed before crawling on top of him.

This was perfect. Price nuzzled at his jugular and started to nip at him, hands running down his body.

Graves ran his fingers through Price's hair, feeling his ears. "Cute. Planning to rut against me, Captain?"

Price grabbed him and flipped him on to his stomach. He opened his pants and pressed his cock against Graves’s thighs, humming in pleasure at the warmth.

“John, you can’t. I’m not exactly prepared here, Soldier.” Graves straightened up. Well, tried to. Price pinned him back down and started to nose at his thighs. “John, I’m serious. You haven’t ev-“ He choked when Price fully pressed his face against him and licked at his hole. It wasn’t what Price wanted, but the visions of Graves being hurt were enough to get him to act right. His tongue dove into him and Graves made a soft groaning noise as he rocked back.

“Should’ve known you’d be smart enough for this. Even all feral, still taking care of your pack right?”

Price couldn’t decipher the tone used. It felt possibly teasing, but it didn’t matter. His mate said he was smart and took care of his pack. The tail he kept tucked between his legs started to wag happily.

Graves panted softly. “Alright. That’s enough. You deserve it.”

Price moved fast, getting on top of him and pinning him down. His cock was so hard it hurt but he needed more. Needed to be buried inside him. He pushed in nice and slow and Graves moaned into the pillows.

“Good boy. You make me feel so good.”

Price wagged his tail harder and started to thrust into him. He braced his hands above Grave's head and enjoyed his mate thoroughly.

Graves tried to stay quiet, pressing his face into the pillows and arching his back. His hole was so tight and willing. Squeezing around him every time he bottomed out.

Well, almost bottomed out.

His knot pressed against his hole with every thrust. He stared at it. The way it pressed right against Graves's rim, begging to be let in. Slowly, he started to grind against him with each thrust, trying to get Graves to take it.

"John, it won't fit." Graves moaned, eyes fluttering shut. He was still arching his back though and it only encouraged John to keep trying. His cock was pressing so tight against him. Carving through him. He put his thumb against his rim and pressed against him so his knot would slowly begin to slide him. When he got a very sweet moan instead of Graves telling him to stop, he kept going. His knot was a little smaller than a fist and it began to slide deeper and deeper in.

The widest part was about to go when Graves began to cry out. "Fuck, Price, darling, I don't think it's going to fit." He grabbed his arms and trembled, body clenching and squeezing around him so tight. "It's not... Fuck..." Tears ran down his face as he mumbled uselessly into his pillows. Drool mixed with the tears running down his face as Price finally finally got it all the way in.

Price wagged his tail happily and thrust in. His knot would push in a little deeper and then catch on Graves's rim when he pulled back, keeping them tied together as Price mated with him.

Graves dug his nails into Price's arm as he came on to the sheets. His legs twitched and shook as his orgasm tore through him. He leaned his head against Price's shoulder and moaned sweetly.

Price moved Graves so he was laying flat on the bed instead of on his hands and knees. He didn't stop or even falter but the changed angle made it feel even tighter and let his knot push just a little deeper into him.

Graves scrambled at the sheets and clawed at the edges. Struggling for some hand hold. He felt his cock start to fill with blood again as Price tried to make up for the weeks of not having him.

"John, john, john, john." He chanted only to be quieted when Price kissed him. Their liplock only encouraged him to thrust in faster.

Price pressed in tight and came inside him. "Breed you. Make you take it."

Graves nodded, smiling softly. He'd indulge him his fantasies. Especially when his poor lover was still so far gone.

Price laid on him, kissing his pretty face. "Love. Love."

"i see you can say words now. Come on, pull out."

Price shoved in deeper, grinding against Graves's prostate. He growled his refusal.

Graves had trouble thinking as the pleasure moved through him. "Price, fuck, alright. I'll stay underneath you, darling."

Price relaxed but kept abusing Graves's prostate. He ignored his pleas for mercy as he cuddled him, hips rocking away. He only stopped when he managed to drag another orgasm out of Graves.

[threepandas]

Bad End, Chosen: Part 5

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The first time around, I gave EVERYTHING. I drove myself into the ground, to be my Master's perfect Learner. To prove it had all been WORTH taking me on as a student. So that he would be proud. So he would love me. So that, like a father, he could look upon the child he raised and think "I did a good job, didn't I?"

Even then, I felt his uncertainty.

His fickle heart.

He was a weak man. One that let a mere child bully him into glorified fatherhood and then could not even commit to the choice he had made. As substantive as a cloud, drifting aimlessly across the endless sky. He abandoned me then. He'll abandon me again. I am, at best, something he feels he is "supposed" to do.

He does not love me. He never loved me.

But I love him.

And some days... I hate that I do.

I hate that I spent night after night, pouring over excruciating texts in tiny font. Ancient, dusty, tomes that talked endlessly in circles. I hate that I practiced and practiced, until I could appear effortless before him. The star pupil. The gem of the tower. Dispised and envied by my peers. And... and so utterly, utterly ALONE.

I died.

I died, desperately holding up the tower itself. The only one even vaguely prepared. When The Dark came. I saw tears and terror on the faces of children. Saw the ceiling crashing towards us. And chose to protect THEM instead of myself. It was, perhaps, the first and last time they ever saw me as something human. Fallible.

I was afraid.

But I did not let that terror hold me back.

They tried. Gods, they tried so, so hard to save me. Wept and screamed as the world seemed to END around us. As day turned to night and monster straight from the worst nightmares of man, crawled from the screaming vents, the WOUNDS upon reality itself. The last thing I saw? Was not my Master's face. But the tear stained faces of children pouring everything they could, into taking the impossible burden that even in those moments? Was killing me.

I cracked apart. Overloaded by the core of the Tower, which I had been desperately channeling. It... it was like becoming light.

And then the world rewound.

I did not learn my lesson. I was still young. Did not yet fully understand. Like all Reincarnators I thought I was here for a REASON. It took time to fully grasp how things worked. But that second life? Even now... even now I miss it.

Because back then...

I made friends.

I was so GRATEFUL. Could not unsee, that when the horrors came? They did not abandon me. They didn't even LIKE me. But... but I wanted them to. So I tried. I talked with them. Ate with them. Told jokes and went on trips. Was young. I grew to care so, so much about them. My dear and beloved friends.

Then?

I got to watch them DIE.

Gruesomely. Slowly. And without hope.

Perhaps that was when my love and compassion for the Protagonist died. When my struggle with hatred began. Because while those I loved suffered in mud stained hells, trenches and bile stenched infirmary, she frolicked in rose gardens. Dreaming of girlish love.

What of Duty? Of the death and suffering she IGNORED? How DARE she selfishly concern herself only with her OWN feelings and desires, as the world that NEEDS her dies in fear and agony! What SAINT is she? What GODS allow this?!

Thus was born my Rage.

And so, I refuse my Fate.

But I've made a mistake. A... a terrible mistake. And even now, he circles me like a bird of prey, correcting my stance with hands that linger. A man that looms. Standing too close. Forever patting my head, fingers carding possessively through my hair. Gripping the strands to make me look at him. Always gentle... but with just enough strength to hint that he could NOT be, if he chose.

He manhandles me like a doll. Physically. With magic. It is all the same. Looking forever delighted at the ease at which he can simply drag me into the air with a hover spell. Like a child sized balloon. To be carted around at his mercy.

I barely SEE my actual Master.

Alaric enables it. I... I refuse to call him Grandmaster in my head. He's already gotten to me once. I can endure. I survived once. I can do it again.

"Is my lesson so boring? That you must retreat into your head, child?" More like horrifying. The scent of blood is overwhelming. I keep my eyes locked on the far wall. "Ignoring my lectures will not let you escape them. You are merely force yourself to repeat them, you know. I am perfectly willing to repeat your lessons as many times as it takes."

"Academically" studying The Dark my ASS. Alaric Blight had, HAS, a fucking torture chamber. These are the worst sort of magics. I REFUSE to learn them. Will NOT use them. FUCK YOU.

I give the poor corpse before me what little dignity I can. By not seeing what they have been reduced too. They deserved better then this.

Alaric huffs a laugh. Gently putting down his ceremonial knife on a nearby table. He wipes the viscera from his hands with a rag as he strolls, calm as you please, over to my helplessly floating form.

"Ah~ that stubborn little glare. So FUSSY, Grandlearner." He laughs, the picture of indulgence. "I suppose I HAVE kept you here a touch too long, haven't I? We've missed several meals AND your nap. You are a growing child. No matter how fascinating the material, I can hardly expect you to concentrate under these conditions, now can I?"

He reaks of copper and a rich cologne I have grown to HATE. If only because it is his favorite. I am gathered from the air and pressed against his front, held like a child. I... I still can not move my limbs. He is no fool. For all I am pressed, lovingly almost, against him? I would tear his throat out with my TEETH.

He will not be giving me that chance.

I dispise him.

I DISPISE "naps".

Bad enough to be dragged around in his company for lessons. At least then, I can remember his evil. The cruelty and crimes. But NAPS? Insidious. We're it not for the immobility, they would have done terrible things to my head, long LONG ago.

They are exactly what they sound like. I am dragged off, to be cuddled like some stuffed animal, in some beautiful and soothing environment. For a nap. Bonding. Just me, him, and my head pressed against his chest. Against the hypnotic sound of his beating heart. Fighting the exhaustion in my bones. The desire to just... just let GO and know a moment's peace.

We never make it to the garden.

An explosion ROCKS the Magic Tower. Over a decade too soon to be The Dark. Alaric stops misstep, his personal barriers keeping even dust from touching us, as in the distance, Mage's scream. The Tower's barrier...goes up.

It...it NEVER goes up.

That is the seige barrier. For... for ATTACKS. Who would!?

"Ah. I knew I was forgetting something." Alaric says, as calmly as though musing on the weather outside instead of an attack upon an ancient, foundational institution. "It seems the temple dogs have finally decided to act upon all their barking. I imagine their little whore will make a wonderful figurehead. They always WERE on the look out for more puppets."

I stare up in confusion as he looks out as the barrier. His gaze flat, empty, and cold. Voice is distant as his muses, as though he long ago stopped caring. He catches my gaze upon him and the warmth floods back in.

"You see, little one. I normally kill them. They tend to make a pest of themselves. I have a list of things I must get done each cycle." He smiles fondly, utterly ignoring the alarms that have begun to sound. The calls for all Master's to defensive positions. "It is something you will learn, with time. A lesson I, of course, will be teaching you~"

"Now, since THIS building will likely become useless to us shortly. Let us go pack, hmm? The story progress. It's time to go home." He turns, and we begin to walk away.

"W-Wait!" I manage to choke out.

He pauses, looks down at me, patient even as people die. What, after all, does HE care, if they do? I try desperately to gather my thought. It is like scrambling after dropped beads across a smooth floor. I think, I HOPE, I get enough...

"I... G-Grandmaster I li..LIKE learning here. With you. It feels more familiar and has better places to... to nap. Could you... WOULD you, PLEASE, go save everyone?" I manage to rip from my throat, each word like pulling a tooth. I hate it. I HATE IT! But for them? Anything.

"Oh? Grandlearner~! Was that a REQUEST?" Croons the madman who holds me, his grip getting tighter for just a moment before relaxing back into it's gentle hold. Lips, almost burning with power, brush softly against my temple in a kiss. He makes a horrifyingly satisfied noise. "Of course MY child. Anything for MY Grandlearner, after all. You are my world, little light."

The world twists.

And suddenly? I am floating safely in the shade of a tree, far across the valley from the Tower. I can... I can feel the struggling Master's. Fighting to hold off the Temple's holy warriors. It is a blood soaked standstill. Until Alaric Blight steps up to the field.

Then?

EVERYTHING IS FIRE.

He is The Arch-Mage of Red. Not just for his hair, but for his terrifying master of fire and battle magics. What once, moments before, was a sea of green? Becomes ash and flame in an instant. So hot the fire burns the very air itself. Bordering on plasma. The ground itself molten in his wake.

None survive. How could any even dream?

It is like a nuke made man.

I shake. Tears slipping down my cheeks as I watch old growth vanish in the distance. Centuries of life. Gone in a moment of ugly destruction. They will praise him for this. Call him a hero. But I know what he is. What hides beneath that ugly, shining, mask of a charm and civility. And... and I am scared.

A chirp of starlight and tinkling glass, high and questioning, hovers just to my right.

Fairy-dragons. A full swarm. Creatures the size of a cat with the power of a god. All but one, staring furiously down at the destruction in the valley below. They radiates furious grief at the loss of so much life and forest. But the one looking at me... feels? Questioning? Somehow?

Can they project?

I can only assume. I KNOW they can understand spoken languages. All dragons can. And as powerful as dragons ARE...

"Please... please! Help me!" I choke out, finally letting my tears spill. Because if I can not cry in front of dragons, then where? "I'm not strong enough. He's a MONSTER. I know you can feel it! Please! Just until I recover. Until I can fight. PLEASE!"

More of the tiny creatures look at me. Glance at each other. Then back towards where Alaric continues his destruction. Their destain for him is obvious. Their eyes as they look upon me, hold no special love. Just ambivalence. But... they are what they are. And they DO hate the sort of creature Alaric Blight has become.

With a tearing WRENCH the spell holding me is SHREDDED.

Painfully, in dragon claws.

In the distance, Alaric stops. No doubt feeling that. Knowing someone not only freed me, but ATTACKED HIM. The dragon that was worried for me touches my shoulder. And before my Grandmaster can ever discover WHO stole me away?

I am Gone.

I do not see the city of Towervalley, the magic tower itself, BURN.

[extasiswings]

Idk what this is but those new stills hurt all three of my feelings so have some angst.

“I don’t understand what happened to us. I don’t understand what changed,” Buck says, and Eddie freezes.

Because he knows. He knows exactly. Every big moment they’ve shared, the beautiful and the terrible, and all of the little ones in between exist in the back of his mind in one giant tapestry of memory. A pulsing, bleeding heart of a thing that he tries not to look at too closely because the fact that it is always there, so close to the surface, never letting him out of its thrall is sometimes more than he can bear.

It’s been years. Eddie’s gotten very used to being in love with Buck. Quietly, achingly in love with Buck, knowing he can’t have him but not being able to stop. Loving Buck doesn’t feel like a choice, it’s just a fact of his existence, rooted so deep and taking up so much space that Eddie can hardly recall being without it, the person he was before—before Buck, before LA and the 118, before tsunamis and shootings and lightning strikes. There are days when loving Buck overwhelms. When he can hardly breathe for the all-consuming nature of it. When the want is so fierce that he can taste it on his tongue. Most of the time though, it’s manageable. Like a radio on in the background, volume low enough that Eddie can ignore it. He can be almost clinical about it: fact—he is in love with Buck, fact—Buck is never going to love him back. It’s been years, so Eddie knows exactly how to handle these inconvenient truths, knows how to handle himself, has gotten used to them. He never expected anything to change, assumed that nothing could surprise him after so long.

But. Buck stood next to him in a cemetery and started talking about a woman he had only just met—a stranger—seeing him, understanding him like no one else, and Eddie—

Something in him broke. Some fragile bit of hope he hadn’t even realized he was harboring shattered, the shards slicing him to bloody ribbons.

And all he could really think was, Enough. Enough now.

Things changed then. He’s changed. Their relationship has changed. And he’s been telling himself that’s a good thing. It’s good, necessary even.

But Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with this. He doesn’t know what to say when Buck is sitting in front of him asking about it point blank while looking like a kicked puppy.

Part of him is angry. He resents being in this position, resents how long it’s taken Buck to say anything, resents knowing he can’t explain himself without revealing things he never wanted to. Mostly though, he resents the fact that after months of work—drawing a line in the sand and dating someone else, pulling away in an effort to establish real boundaries that might let him move on—he is still as much in love with Buck as ever.

Mostly though, he’s just tired.

“We’re still friends, Buck,” Eddie finally manages to say. “That hasn’t changed.”

“But something is different,” Buck insists. “If—you would tell me if I did something, wouldn’t you?”

Eddie drags a hand over his face, resisting the urge to touch his chest where a dull ache has bloomed behind his sternum.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he replies. It’s not an answer, not to the question Buck actually asked, but it’s as much of one as Eddie thinks he can give. And it’s the truth—Buck hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not a crime not to love someone.

“But—”

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone snaps, raw and sharp and jagged. It sounds foreign to his own ears, an unacceptable loss of control, but he is fraying badly at the seams and needs out of this conversation.

A stricken look crosses Buck’s face, and Eddie forces his voice to gentle as he quietly adds, “Please.”

Please drop it. Please don’t push. Please don’t pull this thread.

Please let me go. Just let me go. Please.

Silence stretches between them for a long moment as Buck’s eyes scan Eddie’s face. But finally, as if he heard all the different things packed into that one syllable, Buck nods once.

“Okay.”

[leighsartworks216]

To Touch You

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

As someone who hates being touched (not to the extent as this fic portrays it), and also as someone who wants to hold Astarion and give him all the gentle affection he could ever wish for, I needed to write this

Warnings: touch-adverse descriptions of touch, hurt/comfort themes

Word Count: 814

Masterlist

AO3

Touch has always been difficult for you. Or maybe it started in your formative years and now you can't recall. In any case, the result is the same.

If someone brushes against your shoulder, you cringe and move to the closest open space. If someone grabs your hand, even just to pull you to safety in battle, it burns, and you have to grapple with the fact your hand feels wrong. Hugs are hell, and you've since learned how to dodge out of them or push the person away entirely.

And that's what makes this so hard. You want so terribly to give Astarion the soft affection he never had. You want to hold his hand and run your fingers through his hair and - gods forbid - you wanted to cuddle with him.

Since the relationship began, you kept your distance. Emotionally you could provide him the comfort and reassurance he needed, but physically, you sat apart, you were always at least an arm's length away. This distance has grown shorter over time, but you know it hurts him when you create it. A bubble around you. It makes him think you don't trust him, or that you still fear him after all this time. (Allowing him to drink from you was the one instance you granted him leniency, under the stipulation the only part of him that touches you is his mouth. It was worth the itchy feeling that covered your body as long as you got to see that smile.)

And even though it would hurt, you wanted to try. Try proving to him that you weren't afraid of him; that you do care for him in other ways that are easier for you to express than this.

So when you approach him as he sits outside his tent, looking determined as though you were heading into battle, Astarion was understandably confused and concerned. He watched you plop down next to him, only a few inches away. His eyebrows shot up his forehead.

"Darling? What are you-"

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact entirely to stare over his shoulder. "Just let me do this, please." With a sigh to calm your jittery nerves, you finally met his gaze. Your face morphed into something frightened and vulnerable. "Please."

A slew of questions rushed to the tip of his tongue. Do what, exactly? Why did you look so distraught? What had you been working yourself up for? Were you hurt? Were you going to tell him something awful? Were you... stepping away from the relationship? Had he pushed too far, overstepped a boundary? His mind spun with each one. But he pursed his lips to stop them all, and he nodded.

He could hear your breaths shake as you breathed deeply. You lifted your hands and they trembled, all while your heart fluttered in your chest like a frightened bunny. Slowly, you reached forward and took his hand in yours. His eyes couldn't decide where to focus: your face was tense, and you flinched at the initial contact; your hands slid over his skin, feeling the veins and callouses. You'd never initiated like this. Any time he'd tried, even delicately, your face would scrunch up and you'd create a larger gap away from him.

As you held his hand, breathing through each phantom sensation and emotion, you found it wasn't entirely unpleasant. A tingling sensation moved through your hands, up your arms, and down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake, but beyond that you could feel how soft his skin was. He stayed absolutely still, but you could still feel his fingers twitching against his will.

All too quickly, the feeling became unbearable. It was too much all at once. You cringed as you pulled away, rubbing your hands against the fabric of your shirt to remove the feeling. Astarion wanted to be offended - Was he truly so disgusting to touch? - until he remembered this had nothing to do with him.

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, voice wavering and anxious. "Your hands are soft, but I just can't..." You look down at your open palms, searching for words to describe it. The skin was red from your ministrations.

"Look at me, my love." Your hands clenched into fists as you met his eyes. You were still so frightened about what he thought. About how he perceived this. He smiled. "I appreciate you for trying, nonetheless. It... means a lot that you were willing to be uncomfortable for my sake.

"But," he continues, genuine smile shifting into a flirtatious smirk, "I'm perfectly content with the multitudinous forms of affection you seem to find to lavish on me. And I will do my best to share them with you, too."

You let out a long breath, relaxing for the first time since you approached him. You smiled, relieved. "Thank you, Astarion."

"Of course, my love."