#definitely content with my choice of brushes and not at all having trouble finding a brush that's awesome sauce

[kakyogay]

moon and greamtures

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Partners in Crime 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker

Summary: you're left reeling after your divorce but the chaos has only begun. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hate the mall. Too bright. Too loud. Too fast. 

That day isn’t so bad. Tuesday, mid-morning. Most people are at work. Not you. Your part-time gig barely pays the bills, let alone keeps you busy. With that in mind, you shouldn’t be there to spend what little you have.  

It’s for a good cause. It’s your grandmother’s birthday next week and you owe her. After all she’s done, you owe much more than just a measly mall-bough gift but it’s all you can manage right now. One day it will be better. One day you will be able to pay her back. At least you keep telling yourself that. 

She paid for it all. Your way out, your lawyer, your apartment even. You can’t live in the senior’s community with her, that’s against the rules, but she parsed out some of her nest egg for the flat in the old brick building. For you. She’s the only one who ever did so much for you but what did you ever do for her? 

It’s not for lack of trying, only your own poor decisions. 

You enter the sparkling Swarovski store and keep your arms tight to your body, paranoid of breaking any of the numerous crystal pieces. You don’t know what she would like. It isn’t because you don’t know her well, you just don’t think she has much use for any of it. She’s always been painfully practical. That’s why you never wanted to ask her for help. 

An associate startles you as she appears beside you in her sleek black pantsuit. She offers help but you get the sense she’s checking in, making sure your hands aren’t sneaking into your pockets. You make sure to keep them visible and move your satchel across your back. You tell her you’re just looking and blow out between your dry lips. Maybe a hoodie wasn’t the best choice. 

It was meant to be a solution. You wanted to get out of your grandmother’s hair. How long had you been living with her? He was the answer to that. You thought so. You wanted to believe it. For ten years, you tried. He always spoiled it. 

Then she had to bail you out anyway. 

As you come to the sharp corner of a shelf, you’re startled by another customer. You hadn’t seen them when you came in or heard them. You glance at them fleetingly and turn your attention to the shelf of Mickey Mouse decorations. Definitely not those. 

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” the man frightens you again as he nears and presses his hand to your back. He sidles by, and you dodge away from him, coming dangerously close to colliding with the display of birthstone necklaces. 

You shake off the close brush and blink at the glass. You peek over at the man as he seems overly interested in a paper weight shaped like a dove. His mustache and sleek haircut make him look like he’s been plucked out of some gangster period piece.  

The associate shifts from one side of the counter to the other. She’s watching you. You sigh. She still thinks you’re a thief. You shake your head and leave. 

It’s not worth the trouble or the money. You can find something better. You know you could get your grandma a box of chocolates and a card and she’d say she’s happy. You don’t want to get her what works; you want to do something for someone. Something more than just be there. 

You go down to Hallmark. It’s a similar atmosphere with a hint of warmness and more range in price. Still too much Disney and not enough variety. Your grandmother doesn’t need a rustic crate or a door sign with some snarky saying about wine. 

You stop to look at cards. You can at least grab one of those. As you reach for one along the top row, another hand swipes it from your grasp. You back up and look at the culprit. It’s the same man as the Swarovski shop. Strange. 

You recoil and scurry down the aisle towards the door. Is he following you? It could be a coincidence. Two stores. If he’s looking for a gift too, it makes sense. 

You cross your arms and march quickly through the bright mall, the skylight glaring down at you. You walk in and out of a clothes shop. You don’t know where you’re going now. You’re frazzled. 

You find your way to the As Seen on TV shop and meander around without intent. You’re at a loss. You’ll just end up at the bookstore like always. Another book for her birthday. Wowee. 

She might like the salt rock light. You don’t know. Ugh. 

It isn’t the gift. It isn’t her. It’s you. You’re indecisive. You're lost. Even if it was misery, you miss having someone to tell you what to do. Now you have to think and you do too much of that. 

“Those are pretty cool,” a voice slices through your self-pity. 

It’s the same man. Your eyes meet as you look up to see him. You blanch and open and close your mouth. The shop is so small, how hadn’t you heard him? 

You retreat without a word. He must be following you. There’s no other explanation. What do you do? You can’t just lead him out of the mall, back to your building, but how can you divert him? 

You find a bench down the next aisle of the mall, somewhere the associates in the vitamin store can see you. You’re safe there with people around. You look up and down, searching for the man and his mustache. Just a mother with her stroller. 

You’re paranoid. Stupid, just like he said. It’s all in your head. You’re just fucked up. You don’t know how to live in this world. Not alone. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the timbre tickles up the back of your spine and you twist to see the figure behind you. It’s an officer in uniform. “Mind if I ask ya something?” 

You nod and blink. You don’t like the cops. You haven’t spoken to them since the night it all came crashing down. The flashing lights, the sirens, the questions. It’s all a haze yet it’s stamped into your psyche. 

“Yes, sir,” you stand. 

He’s got dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. His shoulders bear a slant of authority as he has his hands on his hips. He’s taller than you, but so is everyone. You look across the bench at him as his white shirt pokes out from under his leather jacket, his belly straining the fabric. 

“You don’t gotta trouble yerself,” he shows his palm and reaches with his other hand to his belt, “I’m lookin’ for someone and was wonderin’ if maybe ya saw him.” 

“Oh?” You crinkle your forehead. 

“Got a pic somewhere,” he frees his phone from the clip on his belt and flicks his thumb over the screen, “here we are.” 

He turns the cell toward you and you can’t help but make a face. The image is blurry but it’s definitely that same man. You look back the way you came and gulp. 

“Reckon by that, you’ve seen him,” the officer says. “Sheriff Bodecker,” he introduces as he retracts his hand, “I’m doing an investigation. Mind if I ask some more questions?" 

“Well, I... didn’t talk to him.” 

“That’s fine,” he peers down in the same direction you did. The infant in its stroller begins to yawl and his cheek ticks, “how about you come out to my cruiser and we’ll do it there? Less ruckus?” 

You purse your lips. You can’t really say no, he might think you know that guy, whoever he is, whatever he’s done. You shrug. You don’t have much to say. You’re sure it won’t be much of an interview. 

“Okay,” you agree.” 

[cower-before-power]

Slippery When Wet: Part 2

Summary: An untimely accident in the shower leaves you injured and in need of rescue. Lucky for you, the object of your affections is more than willing to help.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, nudity, implied sexual content, description of injury (nothing graphic), unintentional voyeurism? (idk i mean like voyeurism in the name of helping i’m not sure how to say it ha), lots of dick talk, prolly really bad sex jokes

Link to A03 here

PART 1 HERE

A/N: First of all, THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, LIKED, REBLOGGED AND COMMENTED ON PART 1. You are all amazing, I am so glad you are enjoying this silly little venture Gojo has dragged me on. Again, thank you so much to @ghost-party for her beta skills, you da best! I hope Part 2 makes you all happy :) please enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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You shouldn’t look. Not because you don’t want to, but if you do you’ll know what is absolutely not warming your bed at night and then you’ll probably just feel worse. But, you were overwhelmingly curious. Just a quick look couldn’t hurt.

Right?

You peek through your fingers, just at his upper half. The sight makes you curse softly under your breath. Of course he’s absolutely beautiful out of clothes, did you really expect anything less?

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll get dressed,” he says, “just thought this would help you out.”

Help you out? Good grief this is going to be the star of your late night fantasies for months. Because instead of dreaming it up, you now have the real thing to recall.

“No,” you take a deep breath and drop your hands. “I’m fine.”

Are you though? He’s built to perfection, checking off all the boxes on your “Things I find physically attractive” checklist. You marvel at this long column of his throat, sweeping down into a set of collarbones that would make models die of envy. His chest is hairless (did he wax or was it just naturally that way?), miles of smooth skin and muscle that your fingers were just itching to trace.

Your eyes trail down past his stomach, briefly cataloging the very nice set of abs, before settling on what you were the most curious about.

The snort of laughter escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Excuse me, did you just look at my dick and laugh?” He asks accusingly, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you giggle at the disgruntled expression on his face. “It’s just, I’ve always wondered if the carpet matched the drapes since I assumed you dye your hair. Guess I was wrong.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru visibly deflates.

“That’s what you’ve thought about?” His voice is full of frustrated disbelief. “My pubic hair?”

You can’t stop giggling. “You can’t blame a girl for being curious! Are you sure you shouldn’t get rid of it though? Doesn’t the white make people think they’re boning an old man?”

“The utter disrespect,” he gasps, shaking his head. “I can assure you that is the last thing on their minds when I’m working my magic.”

You wonder why you aren’t feeling more flustered. The fun and teasing atmosphere feels almost refreshing after the intense back and forth that was just occurring.

“What, you casting spells for dry weather?”

“Oh, you are evil!” He moans, then looks down at himself. “Don’t listen to her, big guy. You know what you can do.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t talk to it,” you roll your eyes, trying not to grin. “And don’t oversell the merchandise. It’s average, at best.”

(It isn’t. It’s probably the nicest looking one you’ve ever seen. But him and his astronomical ego do not need to know that)

Gojo grabs his chest as if you’ve physically wounded him. “Ouch! Shots fired, target annihilated!”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you sigh. You wonder if he notices the quiet fondness in your voice.

He opens his mouth as if to retaliate, but then suddenly shuts it. A look comes over his face as if he’s just remembered something very interesting and important.

“Hey,” he says, and you watch his mouth spread into a smile. “You said you’d wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. That means you definitely imagined me naked at least once.”

And your blush is back.

“What of it?” You huff, cross your arms and looking away. “It’s only natural. I’ve thought of lots of people naked.”

“Do you ever imagine sleeping with me?”

The question causes you to choke on your breath.

“What-why would you ask that?”

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

You take a look at him, standing naked and unashamed in front of you. His smile is different; there’s a sultry edge to it you’ve never seen before.

“Maybe inquiring minds should stuff it,” you stick out your tongue. Immature, but he’s got you feeling all funny now.

“Well, I’ve thought about it,” he says. “I’ve thought about it quite a lot, actually.”

Your heart misses a beat in your chest.

“You have?” Your voice squeaks as you force the words out.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

You consider the question. You’ve got insecurities, but you know you are a decent looking person. And despite his flightiness about many things, Gojo has actually never given you the impression that he’s shallow in that way.

“I don’t know,” you say truthfully. “I guess I just never considered the possibility that you were interested in me in that way.”

He sighs. “Pumpkin, I’m not blind. You are stupidly attractive. Every time we’re out in Tokyo you’ve got a million guys and gals staring at you.”

“I just always assumed they were staring at your and your stupid blindfold,” you scrub at your cheeks with your palms, trying to rid yourself of some of the perplexing confusion you feel swirling inside you. “How come you’ve never made a move?”

“Would you have wanted me to?”

You want to shout at him, to say of course yes a thousand times yes, but you pause. You realize you’ve never given him any signals, any hint that he was more than just your often annoying friend. Sure, you blushed at his silly flirting, but so did lots of people.

You shift back through your interactions, all the missions, the late night hang outs, the strolls through the city. Nowhere can you find any instant where your ever expanding feelings might have risen to the surface. But still, would your seeming indifference deter him? He was a very self assured man, after all.

“You have confidence coming out your ass, it’s hard to believe you wouldn’t make a move anyways, just to see,” you say instead.

His whole demeanor softens. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up.”

Oh.

OH.

And you know exactly what he means. It’s why you’ve never said anything, why you forced your desires deep down into the pit of your being when in his presence.

It seems even the strongest shaman could be afraid of something.

“It’s not just about fucking, is it?” You ask, feeling your whole body start to tremble.

“It was never just about fucking,” he replies, and it’s like the universe explodes before your very eyes. “Why do you think I spend all my free time with you?”

“To annoy me?” You croak feebly. “To eat all my snacks? To enjoy torturing me by spoiling the end to every movie we watch?”

He chuckles. “Just side bonuses. Being with you is the real prize, pumpkin.”

“Oh,” you whisper, and your brain whirs like an overworked laptop. You’re having trouble processing that this is actually happening, that the man you’ve been pining after for what feels like forever is really standing there, confessing his own feelings.

Buck ass naked.

“You’ve got two options right now,” Gojo takes a step closer to you, and you shiver at the dominant aura that suddenly swirls around him. “Either I get dressed and we put today behind us, or I come over there and kiss you until you can’t remember your own name. Make your choice.”

Was there even a choice? There was only one option. A slow, warm feeling blooms in the middle of your chest and spreads outwards, dousing your whole shaking body in molten yearning. It’s not a new feeling, but the sensations are different. Because now you can give in to it.

“Kiss me,” you blurt out, breathless and giddy. “Get the fuck over here and kiss me.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

A flash of a savage grin, the soft thump of footsteps and then you are numb to everything but him.

He tastes like sugary coffee and chapstick, lips hard and hot against yours as he kisses you like he’ll die if he stops. He’s everywhere at once, in all your senses, drowning you in his onslaught of desirous fervour. It’s not a timid kiss of new sweethearts; it’s a passionate embrace of long overdue lovers.

Your hands run over every inch of him they can reach, mapping the ridges and valleys of his exposed skin. His own slip beneath your shirt to spread across your back, crushing you to him with a grip of iron. It’s not enough; you want them everywhere, you want him everywhere, until he’s branded onto your body. Until you no longer know where you end and he begins. Until he’s sunken himself into your very bones.

You need to breathe- you pull away with a gasp, one gossamer thread of saliva lazily trailing after you.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You pant, digging your nails into his arms. He’s unwilling to keep his mouth off you, now pressing scalding kisses along your jaw.

“Blame it on mutual stupidity,” he sighs into your skin, teeth slightly grazing the spot just below your ear. “Let’s make up for lost time, eh?”

“I’m game,” you say, a soft whine leaving your lips as he works steadily on what is sure to become a bruise.

“Good,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue across the blossoming mark before leaning back to smirk at you. “Have to make you take back all your snarky comments about me and my game.”

You giggle. “Oh, so you’re saying it won’t be as dry as a desert ‘round here?”

“Well let me just check tonight’s weather report,” he laughs, grinning cheekily as he slips a hand down between your legs, brushing gently over the front of your underwear. You bite your lip, grip on his biceps tightening.

“Ladies and gentleman, we’re in for a wet night,” he says in what you assume is his best weatherman voice. “Expect a great deal of precipitation, more so than what’s already accumulated. Perhaps we’ll even see some flooding. We’re talking possibly record setting levels here.”

You snort with laughter, pushing at him slightly. “You are such an idiot. Just shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”

“Oh, I intend to put my mouth in a lot of different places,” he removes his hand, snapping the elastic band of your underwear against your hip as he goes. “I know I just got you into these, but shall I undress you now?”

“Yes please,” you nod eagerly, already wiggling out of your shirt. He quickly helps remove the offending garment, but in all the lust and excitement you’ve forgotten about your shoulder, and you moan in pain when you jostle it.

“Owwwwwwie, stupid shoulder!”

“Shhh, pumpkin,” Gojo coos gently, leaning down to pepper the area with kisses. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

You feel yourself melt at the sudden tender display, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his luscious hair as he continues to smother your bruised shoulder in affection. “You already are, Satoru.”

The first name slips out unexpectedly, but you like the way it rolls off your tongue. He seems to as well, judging by the pleased noise that rumbles from his chest.

“Well, allow me to continue then,” he purrs, and his lips leave your shoulder to capture yours in another toe curling kiss. You press yourself to him, the feel of his bare skin against yours sending a thrill shooting down your spine.

An idea suddenly pops into your head.

“I never got to finish my shower,” you break your kiss to speak, looking up at him under your lashes.

He catches on immediately, his smile once again turning primal. It makes your knees weak and your gut clench in anticipation.

“Maybe you should help me, since I’m injured and all,” you push yourself even closer to him, shivering at the feeling of his not-so-average excitement pressing against your belly.

“Hmmmm, I could do that,” he’s already got his fingers hooked in your underwear, slowly starting to push them down your hips. “But what if you slip again?”

“Well, you’ll just have to catch me then,” you wink at him. “With your dick.”

He roars with laughter, and your heart has never been more full.

“Oh, I’ll do more than just catch you, pumpkin,” he growls playfully, and before you can blink he’s rid you of your bottoms and swept you up into his arms. “I’m going to absolutely wreck you.”

You reach up to kiss him as he pounds towards the bathroom, your blood on fire and only one thought in your head.

Bless that stupid, slippery, wonderful bar of soap.

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Taglist: @satorudicks @sara-nyaa @dixonsbugaboo @fandomtrash100 @oikusa-snow @okemis @kuxredere @mylittleteddybear @the-fandoms-georgie @inaflashimagine @crapimahuman @elenapri0502 @fragments-of-aria @bollywoodghoul @wrdro @kiasnotforever @disregardedbymybias @lavihs @euniartsu @satjsstuff @lycorizzz @fushigurosimp @levisbrat1 @bxstboy-tetsu @one-leaf-grimoire @glxar (sorry i just tagged everyone who asked and commented haha, bold means I couldn’t tag you sorry!)

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (3)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 5.2k warnings: none 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

Bucky stared down at the fresh coffee stained on the sidewalk; a caramel puddle nestling into the cracks and stretching along the lines until it spilled out into the street. He could smell the bitterness and the sweetness in the cream, the steam of it still warm as it filtered up into the cold, autumn air. He cursed at himself under his breath.  

You’d looked so beautiful, even with your eyes wide in shock and lips parted in a gasp as coffee spilled to your shoes. Dressed under an army green overcoat, a sliver of a burnt orange sweater peaked out from underneath. He’d seen that particular shade before, cast over a forest of evergreens and reflecting into the clouds, just above the sun as it set over the tree line.  

But he’d made a fool of himself in front of you and he could still feel the burning in his ears. He felt hot under his jacket and he found himself glancing down the street, wondering if he could make a run for it. Only, you were waiting for him inside and Bucky couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing you.

Gathering what remained of his courage, Bucky parted the double doors and stepped inside. It took a minute to let his eyes adjust, but when the dim lighting came into view, he noticed you were standing by the entrance waiting for him like you’d known he’d decide to follow. You beamed as he caught sight of you and his stomach twisted straight to knots. You were still clutching the donut box to your chest, almost as if you were afraid he’d knock that out of your hands, too.  

“Come on, you can help me set up.” You gestured down the hall to the room he met you in a few days prior. The library with no books on the shelves and cobwebs in the corners. “We’ve got to get you a book before the others show up.”

Bucky nodded, though he didn’t say anything as he followed you. It was pretty quiet without so many people lingering around, but everyone seemed to smile as you approached; perking up from under their clouds and called out your name until you waved back at them. It was like you carried sunshine in your pockets and comfort in your presence, breaking away stormy skies as you passed by.  

Before you could reach the library door, Bucky rushed out ahead of you and grabbed a hold of the knob. You paused, eyes catching his for a moment and a pink filtered into his cheeks. He cleared his throat.  

“Figured I could do one decent thing today after I ruined your shoes,” he explained, pulling open the door for you.  

“You showed up, didn’t you?” you added with a wink. “I count two decent things today, James Barnes.”

He chuckled at that, nodding. “Y-Yeah, okay.”  

You set the donuts on the coffee table and began to push the furniture around into a circle. You shouldered most of your weight into the couch to get it to budge and Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips just watching you. Concentrated frown on your face, determination in your eyes, staring down the couch as if it were your sworn enemy.  

“You need help with that?” Bucky asked, gesturing to the couch that barely moved a few inches while you were out of breath.  

You glanced up at him over the spine of the couch, nodding gratefully. “This one always gives me trouble.”

“I’m sure if you waited for the others to show up, they’d help you move these around,” Bucky said as he placed his right hand on the back of the armrest, his knee digging into the center of the back. You stood next to him, hands on the frame to help push despite the fact that Bucky was strong enough, even without his left arm, to move the couch on his own. But he liked the idea of you beside him, so he didn’t say anything.  

“Oh, I’m sure they would,” you exhaled as they couch slid perfectly into place within the circle. “They all work so hard though, you know? It’s nice to have them just walk in and sit down for a change. Don’t need them thinking I’m expecting work out of them, too.”

“Ah, so that's why I’m here, then...”  

He was surprised by the teasing in his own voice. When was the last time he made a joke? He couldn’t even remember. But you started to smile, that brightness shining right up into your eyes, and it didn’t matter anymore. He’d make a thousand jokes if you would keep looking at him like that.  

“Careful now,” you warned, a glimmer in your eye. “I might need you to help move this couch every week...”

“Wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”  

He didn’t know where this was coming from or how it slipped off his tongue so easily, but he liked the way it seemed to catch your off guard. You stilled for a second, a nervous laugh under your breath as you quickly tucked away a few strands of fallen hair. You were flustered. Shit. He was done for.  

“Haven't even seen one meeting and you’re offering to move couches for me on a weekly basis? Consider me eternally grateful, James Barnes.” You plopped down on the couch, reaching for the strap of your bag, though it was a few inches out of reach.  

Bucky leaned down and picked up the bag, surprised to find it as heavy as it was, and gently set it in your lap. He took a seat on the couch on your left, though he left considerable room between you. You started digging through the bag, pulling out book after book and setting them on the table.  

“We’ve got to pick your book of choice,” you explained, smiling at him and clearly eager to see what he would select. “Anything you want. I can get something else from the library for next week if you’re not interested in these. I’ve got some guys reading Harry Potter for the first time. Lang’s on the second Twilight book. Romanoff is halfway through The Odyssey. Barton’s about a few pages to the end of a murder mystery he guessed the plot twist of within the first ten pages, which is just downright infuriating...”

Your nose was all scrunched up and it was the damn near cutest thing Bucky had ever seen. He must have been staring for too long though, because you raised a brow at him.  

Bucky cleared this throat, quickly looking away. He scratched nervously at the back of his neck and tried to steer the conversation strictly away from how adorable he found you.  

“Isn’t the point of a book club to read the same book?”

“I suppose,” you shrugged, “but not my book club. The whole point is just to help these guys feel comfortable, give them a moment of peace, even if it’s for an hour once a week. Sometimes we’ll sit around the circle and talk about what we’re reading. Lang’s working really hard to sell the Twilight books to the rest of the group despite being about a decade late to the game. Most times though, we just read, listen to some music. It’s quite nice, actually.”

So that was what Sam meant by unconventional.

“I don’t know the last time I read anything,” Bucky admitted slowly. He could barely get himself to concentrate on a single newspaper article these days, let alone an entire book. He often caught himself staring at the TV and realizing an episode later that he didn’t have a clue what had happened.  

“A lot of the guys take breaks,” you offered, seemingly reading his mind. “That’s what the donuts are for. Oh, and the coffee, of course.”

You jumped up, making your way over to the pots sitting on the table lining the wall. The pots were already filled and he wondered who took the time to do that for you before you even arrived. You were so well liked around here, Bucky found himself wondering if he wasn’t the only one who felt like you could tell him to do just about anything and he’d oblige without question.

“You want some?” you asked, holding up an empty cup, but Bucky shook his head. He was already starting to get warm and adding coffee to the mix wouldn’t help things.  

You didn’t seem to mind as you shrugged off your jacket and draped it by the door. The orange sweater he’d caught a glimpse of under your jacket turned out to be a cardigan. It flowed long down by your thighs, draped over a simple, white tank top and black jeans. Gold jewelry sat over your collarbone and you had a sudden glow about you, like that hour just before sunset.

Golden hour, he realized. That’s what you reminded him of.  

“It’s warm in here, isn’t it?” you asked, fanning yourself as you set the coffee on the table. “It’s not just me?”

It’s definitely you, Bucky thought. He’d never met anyone who carried such a presence as to melt the icy cold shards planted defensively around his chest. You were the epitome of warmth and kindness and the sweetest damn thing he’d ever seen... but a trail of sweat lined his hairline and he could feel the heat trapped under his jacket.  

“Not you,” Bucky confirmed, brushing at his brow. “It’s hot.”

“Here,” you stood up, holding out a hand to him, “I can take your jacket for you.”

Bucky froze, jaw clenched. He became painfully aware of the empty sleeve on his left side. He wasn’t a complete fool. He knew you must have noticed by now, but taking the jacket off made it obvious that a piece of him was missing, the stub at his shoulder the only thing left in place of an arm he could still feel most days.  

“I’m, uh, I’m okay,” he stuttered out, his eyes falling to the ground, hoping you didn’t notice the flush in his cheeks. He could feel your eyes on him and he was almost certain that if he dared to look up at you, you’d be fixated on his empty sleeve.  

Shame started to burn hot in his chest when suddenly he felt a cool breeze on the back of his neck. When he looked in search of you, he found you setting up a fan at the edge of the room, angling it just enough so that it was sure to reach him on every rotation.  

He swallowed as he watched you. You didn’t ask questions or push him to take the jacket off despite being clearly too warm to keep it on. Instead, you offered him a short smile as you sat back on the couch beside him, a little closer this time.  

“Any better?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s, uh, that's really nice. Thanks.”

You smiled for him and he wondered if he could stay inside that moment forever.  

***

Bucky selected The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Gilman from the stack of books on the table. It surprised you as his hand ghosted over the cover before flipping it over in his palm, a curious look on his features. It was one of your favorites, one not many would choose to pick up in fear of the publishing date in the late 1800s, but it was a short story, one he could finish within the span of the meeting today.  

As he stared down at the unusual yellow pattern on the cover, a frown pushed at his lips as he started to see the strange images hidden under the surface. You found yourself struggling to tear your gaze away from him. With such a reaction to the cover, you couldn’t wait for the end of the meeting just to hear what he thought of the story.  

Soon, the usuals started filtering into the room and you noticed that Bucky had barely said a word as the low hum of small talk and chatter filled the empty space. He kept to himself, perched on the very edge of the couch cushion like he might run at any second as you talked with one of the oldest VA members by the door.  

Upon sensing his discomfort, you quickly made your way back to the couch and you were surprised when you felt the cushion dip a little as he leaned in your direction as if he was using you as anchor; something familiar amongst an unknown. You tried to suppress a smile when he looked at you, but you really liked the idea of being something familiar to him.  

“I’m glad you decided to stay,” you told him quietly, nudging his side playfully with your shoulder. It drew a soft laugh from under his breath and he nodded, gripping tight to the book.  

“Yeah, me too.” He sank back into the couch and relaxed the tension in his body.  

Six on the dot. You turned to the group.  

Tony Stark sat in his usual throne, legs draped over the arm rest, sitting sprawled out over the single chair. Heir to Stark Industries, he’d enlisted himself in rebellion against his own father. He’d ended up in the Air Force for three tours and prided himself on the tattoo on his chest he’d gotten drunkenly off base in his early twenties.  

Natasha Romanoff found her place sitting cross legged on the floor, leaning up against the seat of Tony’s chair. She was a sort of a mystery to you, never spoke a word about her position within the military and how long she served, but she was exceptionally perceptive. Part of you wondered if she was some sort of super spy. Despite becoming a close friend, there was still so little you knew about her history. She rested a pillow in her lap.

Then, there was Scott Lang. He’d found himself in some trouble after his discharge, but he was turning his life around. He had a little girl to stick around for and he was trying desperately to find a job. You suspected his fascination with the Twilight books stemmed more from an unbreakable bond with his daughter than anything else. He took his place on the bean bag chair.  

Clint Barton sat on the table outside the circle. He was a sharp shooter in his time and found more comfort in the distance. He kept to himself and had an exceptionally entertaining habit of making quick remarks under his breath few were fortunate to hear. You were determined to hand him a book with a plot twist not even he could see coming. You resided to put Defending Jacob by William Landay on hold.  

A few others filled out the circle; familiar faces of men and women most would look past on the streets. Dark circles under their eyes, a hardened look about them. Some with tattoos and long beards, other’s draped in leather. Some, you could see the ghost of their former selves in their eyes, but they all seemed to lighten as they sat around the circle.  

A moment of peace. It’s all you could offer and they took it gladly.  

“Hey everyone. We’ve got a newbie in today.” You gestured to Bucky and he slowly lifted his hand in an awkward wave. “This is Bucky. Bucky, this is the group. Play nice.”

“What’s your rank, soldier?” Tony quipped from his chair; legs kicked out over the side. He never had much of a filter, or a sense of restraint. You shot him a glare he didn’t seem to notice, or rather he didn’t care.  

“Sergeant,” Bucky clarified, though you could hear the strain in his voice. He said it as though it burned him, like the very act of the title was painful just to speak.  

“Where’d you serve?”

“Tony, we’re not grilling the new kid today,” you warned, but Bucky cleared his throat.

“Afghanistan mostly.” He curled his hand into a fist, pinching at the pages of The Yellow Wallpaper in his grip. A hardness had swept over most of his features, almost in a protective layer, and you wanted to whack Tony upside the head for stealing the soft undertones in his expression.  

“And the rest?”

Bucky paused, releasing his fist. “Classified.”  

Tony pursed his lips, staring Bucky down over the top lens of his thick rimmed glasses. A testament of wills. A challenge. Then, he nodded, satisfied.  

“Great,” you groaned, rolling your eyes playfully. “Now that Tony here has finished interrogating our newest member, we can get started.”

“Hey, consider it my welcome to the group!” Tony hands thrown defensively in the air. Scott nodded from his couch, remembering his own initiation the day Tony demanded to know the extent of his robbery charges following his discharge.  

You shook your head, smiling spreading back to your lips and you were thankful to find that Bucky had sat back into the couch, relaxing as the attention moved back to you.  

“I think we’ll just spend today reading,” you said. “I’ll put on the playlist Tony recommended – and don’t worry, I did browse through to make sure he didn’t slip any rock anthems in again. We don’t need to give Dr. Selvig down the hall another heart attack when Back in Black starts blaring directly after Yiruma.”

The room laughed and you were purposeful in glancing over at Bucky to see if a smile caught on his lips. It was small, a little uncomfortable as his eyes flickered around the room at the other group members, but he seemed to soften as he landed on you again. You nodded at him.  

“Alright kids, hush up now.” You pressed play and the gentle strokes of a piano began to fill the room. “I’ll wake you in an hour.”

You waited until everyone settled in and opened their books. One of the older gentlemen in the back with a long and burly white beard and a leather vest draped over his shoulders set the open novel on his chest and promptly closed his eyes for his weekly nap. You smiled to yourself as you watched the heavy rise and fall of his chest – the man deserved one decent hour of rest a week, anyway.  

By the time you made your way back to the couch, you noticed Bucky had tensed up again. He was staring down at the book, harsh breaths pressing through his nose as he tried to keep the book propped open with on hand, losing his place as he tried to turn the page. His jaw was clenched so tight you wondered if he’d bite it clean off.  

He didn’t dare ask for help or so much as look in your direction, but it was a determination you’d come to expect from the people you met in these halls. It didn’t mean you couldn’t offer it anyway.  

You quietly opened a drawer at the edge of the room, pushing aside knick knacks and old ketchup packets until you came across a small wooden clip. One of the older members had used it when he was going through extensive PT for his hand and couldn’t pinch his fingers enough to grip the thin slip of the page. You pulled it from the drawer and quickly skirted your way back to the couch beside Bucky.

“Here,” you offered, extending the clip to him as the book fell closed on his lap for the fourth time. He looked up at you, confused. You wondered if he realized how cute he looked when his brows pinched together like that; made him look about ten years younger and wiped the evidence of the war clean off his face.  

You smiled at him. “It holds the pages down for you. Look.”

Gently pulling the book from his lip, you opened to the first page and set the clip at the bottom of the binding. When you released it, the pages stayed open, giving him free range of motion to turn the page without losing his place.  

He blinked a few times as he stared down at the book. It was clear he’d never considered a tool like this and you wondered how many times he had sat down with the intention of reading only to find he couldn’t even turn past the first page. He might have been able to figure out the skill in it if he’d had the patience, but you imagined his own frustration got in the way of that. He seemed to have little patience for himself, as soldiers returning home often did. 

There was a brief moment when the tips of his fingers brushed over yours as you pulled away. His hands were warm, almost feverish in comparison to the chill in your own. A blush warmed his cheeks and his eyes quickly darted down to the pages. Your stomach was in pleasant knots.  

“Thanks,” he replied quietly, a soft semblance of a smile rising sweetly at the edges of his lips.  

You nodded, settling in on the couch beside him and pulling your own book up into your lap. You listened to the gentle strokes of the piano carrying softly through the room until a page turned on your left and then, you let yourself sink into the bindings of the book perched upon your lap.  

***

“So! What did you think?!”

It was the first thing you said as the final group member exited the room. Barely even a footstep out the door and you were already anxiously awaiting his reaction. Bucky was busy pushing the couch back into its original position and he glanced back at you to see you biting nervously on your lip, hands wringing out in front of you. You were swaying onto your tip toes like a kid hyped up on sugar. It was the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen.  

“It was... a little creepy at the end?” Bucky chuckled, glancing down at The Yellow Wallpaper as it sat on the coffee table. “The woman went completely mad.”

You nodded vigorously, the smile on your face beaming and he had to watch himself to keep from mirroring your excitement.  

"It’s a critique on how women’s mental health was perceived in the nineteenth century!” you explained with that giddy look on your face, reaching down for the book and flipping the pages through your fingers, the soft brush of wrinkled paper touching over each thumbprint. “Women were believed to be weak minded and frail, unable to handle more than two hours of mental stimulation. The woman in the story was prescribed ‘rest’ by her physician to treat her depression, essentially restricting her to little more than staring at the walls.”  

You rolled your eyes, groaning dramatically, and drawing a smile to Bucky’s face that ached into his cheeks. “Slowly, it drove her to seek stimulation in impossible places, like the image of a woman she saw in the wallpaper! By the end of the story, that’s who she became. Wild, right?”

You shook your head, seemingly lost in astonishment. There was a slight crinkle in your nose when you smiled that wide, Bucky realized, like even the features on your face couldn’t hope to contain the joy bursting from your smile. Radiated like the fucking sun. Bucky was helpless in his stance, frozen, as he listened to you.  

“You know the author once said, ‘it’s not intended to drive people crazy, but to save people from being driven crazy,’” you continued, setting the book down with such a gentle touch, almost as if it were a living, breathing thing. You handled it with such care and Bucky began to wonder if you’d ever touch him like that – if he was worth such tenderness.  

The thought startled him and he quickly swallowed it back. Jaw clenched, right hand pressed to a fist in the pocket of his jacket. Stone cold expression. And yet – you were still talking about that book, all starry eyed and adorable, and a smile managed to crack through his lips. It was his new favorite book, he decided. Whatever could make you smile like that was his favorite. He’d sit there and read the fucking phone book if you asked him to.  

“She wrote it in retaliation of her own experience of a physician disregarding her depression. It's actually quite remarkable when you think about it. It's one of the earliest American Feminist works of it’s– ” You froze suddenly, hand clamping over your mouth. You winced at him, slowly pealing your palm away. “Oh God, I’m rambling. I tend to get a little excited about these things... You must be so bored right now.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile as it rose in his cheeks. He liked seeing you so flustered, caught up in a passion he so rarely saw these days. He didn’t know the last time he cared about anything as much as you cared for books. He could have easily listened to you talk like that for hours without interruption.  

“No, no, not bored at all,” he reassured you and you visibly relaxed, relief sweeping through your shoulders. You started to fold up the chairs when Bucky cleared his throat, drawing your attention back. “I, uh, I did like the story, though. Has a lot of relevance today. I see why you like it.”

If he thought you were going to burst before, he should have waited to see how you were looking at him now. Chewing on the inside of your cheek in hopes of suppressing it, though it clearly did little use.  You planted your hands on your hips.  

“Watch what you say, Barnes. I’ll talk your ear off.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m already down an arm, what’s an ear, too?”

The second the words left his lips, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head; drenching his clothes, goosebumps on his ice, sinking into his veins and freezing him to stone. He woken up from a pleasant dream by the harsh ringing of an alarm. He'd been pushed off a cliff, stomach churning in the freefall.  

You knew. Obviously, you knew.  

You weren’t blind and he was certain you could tell there was a startling absence where his left arm should be, even with the poorly camouflaged sleeve hanging off his side. It wasn’t fooling strangers on the street and it certainly didn’t fool you either, even if it gave him an ounce of peace, like maybe he could pretend he was whole again.

But you’d brought him that book clip for a reason.  

You knew.  

At yet, this was the first time he mentioned it aloud. Actually said the words. Drew attention to the fact that he was a broken mess of who he used to be and now he was waiting for you to flinch, for the familiar shades of pity and embarrassment to cloud over your starry eyes, but he waited and waited and – it never came.  

Instead, you started to laugh.  

It filled the room and washed away whatever panic was surging inside of him within a matter of seconds. The most beautiful sound he’d ever heard and he wished you didn’t shield your hand over your lips in an effort to contain it because – God – he could have spent his whole life sitting in that moment. Tears in your eyes, a smile on your face, looking at him like he was the man he was before the war, like he was something worth looking at.  

“You’re funny, James Barnes,” you said after you caught your breath again, a whisper of a laugh still lingering in your voice. You brushed the tears from your eyes.  

Bucky’s chest felt instantly lighter. His right hand was swinging down at his side and he brought it up to his hair to brush it from his face.  

“I could use a new book for next week,” he started, a little surprised at himself, and judging by the look in your eyes, it surprised you too. But you were smiling at him and it gave him the courage to continue. “Thought maybe you could help me find something?”

“Really?” you asked, practically glowing. “You’ll come back next week?”

He’d do anything if you kept looking at him like that.  

“Yeah,” was all he said, but you looked as though he told you he’d just told you he won the lottery. Maybe he had.  

“Well then, I’d be happy to! Just, um, hold on a second,” you scrambled around the room, looking for a pen and paper. You clicked a pen a few times before doodling in the corner to get the ink moving. When you were finished, you handed it to him. “These are my hours at the library. Come by anytime, okay? If I’m not up front, ask Mrs. Jefferson to page me. She’ll know who you are.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, staring down at the scribbled numbers. Did you talk about him at work? Butterflies swarmed in his stomach at the thought. He wondered what kinds of things you would say about him.  

“Walk me out?” you asked, grabbing your coat from the rack and gesturing to the door. Bucky looked up, not even realizing the room was already set back in its original formation, the empty box of donuts discarded.  

He nodded, following you to the door.  

“You know, I’m really happy you decided to come today,” you said as you passed into the hallway. Bucky kept an even pace at your side and tried not to let the butterflies in his stomach escape to where you could see.  

“Almost didn’t,” he admitted with a tired chuckle.  

“Figured by the staring contest you were having with the building before the coffee incident.”

Bucky winced, but you were smiling as he looked over at you and he felt the tension slip from his muscles instantly. “I am sorry about that...”

“Maybe you can just owe me a coffee,” you suggested casually, as if the prospect of spending time together, just the two of you didn’t make the butterflies crawl a little further up into his chest. “A real one. Not the shitty stuff we serve at the VA.”

Bucky swallowed, pushing the creatures back into his stomach. His throat was dry. “I can do that.”  

He pictured sitting across from you at a café, watching your hands curl around the outside of a mug, the steam of it brushing on your nose. Glistening in the reflection of the sunlight peaking through the windows, draped in the glow of the sunset. He’d buy you a thousand coffees.  

“Okay, well, I’ll see you soon then?”

Bucky looked around and realized suddenly that he was standing outside. The cold breeze had turned into a frigid autumn chill with the sun nearly set behind the skyline. Peaks of orange remained at the horizon, mimicking the colors in your sweater. When he looked down, he could still see the stain of coffee on the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, determined to push past whatever doubt etched into his way. It faded in an instant as he saw your lips curve up high into your cheeks. “I’ll see you soon.”

[trueshellz]

Hello! Can I request Osamu and Kuroo finding out their S/O has trouble functioning recently. Like usually they're working a lot and being productive but now they're burnt out – no motivation, skipping meals, can't sleep, etc. If this is too much, please feel free to ignore! Thank you!

Thank you for the request! 💜

Osamu

You had always been good at hiding your stress from your family and it was no different when you started dating. Work had been more stressful than usual, there had been lots of looming deadlines and the change in management meant that the new person was trying to leave their mark on the company. Being a perfectionist, you didn't want your work scrutinised and had taken to working long hours with little sleep.

Osamu was aware of this, knowing to keep his distance when you had lots to do. Not because he didn't like your job, but more so that you would get little done, instead playing games or making out. You had planned to see him properly but he would always pop in during the early evening to drop off some food for you.

What you hadn't shared with him was how stressed you had felt. Instead of eating, the food had been piling up untouched. You were up most of the night working on the changes coming through from the new manager and relied on coffee and caffeine pills to help. When going into work had become too stressful, you had taken some time off to recover and focus on yourself. But this had just made you fall into a dark hole. You spent all day in pyjamas, barely eating still and slept most of the day. You didn't know how to tell your hardworking boyfriend how you felt, especially since he was so busy with the shop. If he could manage a business you should be able to do your job right?

It was the second week of not seeing you daily, Osamu was starting to get worried. You had told him that you were staying with family for a bit as you had been stressed with work and didn't want to take time away from him setting his restaurant up. You still spoke everyday, less so on video or the phone but your text conversations went on for ages.

"Osamu! How are you?"

Glancing up, he saw your parents approaching the shop as he was putting up a notice board. They had known for a while that you had been dating, being supportive of you both and the relationship between you had been great.

"I'm ok. How are you both? How's my lovely girlfriend doing?"

The shock on their faces was almost palatable, they both looked at each other confused before turning back to him.

"We've not spoken to her for about 3 weeks. She said she was staying at her apartment as she had deadlines to meet and needed to focus. You know how her siblings are when she's home."

"But..."

Osamu felt his heart stop as your parents told him what else you had said. The worst thoughts going through his mind as he listened half-heartedly to them. There was no reason to lie to him or your parents. He couldn't think of why you had spun this story to lie to everyone.

Waving farewell to your parents, his thoughts swirling around his head as he finished work and tidied up the shop. By the time he locked up, he was just angry at you. How dare you lie to him? You knew how much he valued truthfulness and honesty.

Storming to you apartment, he planned his conversation in his head. He was going to confront you about lying to your parents, lying to him and about not spending time with him. If you didn't want to date him, you should have just said. Knocking on your door, he waited for you to answer but there was nothing, the lights were off and he couldn't see inside. He didn't like using the spare key you gave him, not wanting to be that boyfriend who didn't trust their partner. But it seemed like he had no choice.

Unlocking your front door, he was shocked to see your post on the floor, more than would accumulate from a day or two. Walking through and calling our your name, he could see the apartment was messy too. The food he had been sending on the worktops, work papers all over the floor and your curtains were all closed too. He kept calling your name until he reached your room, hoping to hear you reply. Were you unwell? Why hadn't you told him? He would have helped you, looked after you.

You had been in bed all day, apart from a quick shower and eating a banana, the energy you usually had had completely depleted. Everything hurt. Arms. Legs. Head. Back. Your eyeballs hurt. How was that even possible? You thought you heard your name being called but figured it was just your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn't until your bedroom door opened and Osamu's face came into your peripheral vision did you really start to panic.

"'Samu... I... what?"

All thoughts of reprimanding you flew straight out the window when he saw you. Osamu actually felt his stomach drop. Your usually bright and cheerful face was dull, your eyes were sunken and you had bags under them, he was sure you'd lost weight and didn't even want to ask when you had last eaten.

"Baby."

That one word was enough to have you breaking down into tears, not pretty ones, loud and gut wrenching sobs as he rushed over and pulled you close. Yep, definitely lost weight. His chin resting on your head as he shushed you, arms wrapped around you tightly as he rubbed your back. Your tears soaking the front of his jacket, hand curled in his top as if he'd disappear. You hadn't realised how much you missed him until he appeared in front of you.

"Baby, why didn't ya tell me? I woulda come sooner."

You shook your head, unable to form words he he climbed into bed with you. Pulling you forward so you lay on him, his arms wrapped around you as you lay there. For a long time neither of you spoke, content to lay there while your breathing settled back down and eventually falling asleep again. As you did, he couldn't help but shed a few tears at the sight of seeing you so exhausted and broken, especially after he thought the worst, made him feel like shit. How could he have been so blind? He should have seen something was wrong?

"'Samu?" He felt you move and sit up, instead pushing your head back onto his chest, he cuddled you close and squeezed you lightly.

"I'm here, baby. Don't worry."

"'M sorry."

"For what?"

"Lying."

If he hadn't cried already, he was sure you were going to make him cry again. Closing his eyes against the tears, he propped you up so you could look down at him. Brushing the hair behind your ears, he thumbed your cheek lovingly before kissing you softly.

"I wish ya'd told me, baby. I woulda helped. I woulda checked on ya more and-"

"I didn't want to burden you. You've been busy with the shop and I just... didn't want to seem like I couldn't manage. And then it just got so much and I didn't know how to fix it."

Sitting up, Osamu pulled you into his lap so you were say sideways and rocked you gently as he spoke.

"Ya never have to be sorry for shit like this. If I'd known, I woulda come sooner. Baby, ya had me worried. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to ya. Listen to me, ya never gonna be alone ok? Let me help ya baby. Lemme take some of the burden ok?" When you shook your head, he smiled and continued. "I love ya baby. It's my job to help ya."

"How?"

"Come stay with me for a bit? Even if ya never leave ya room or wanna stay in bed, ya won't be alone. I'll be there to help."

"I don't-"

"Please baby. If nothing else, I'll know that yer OK. That yer not alone and sad. All by yerself thinking that no one cares. Please?"

Kuroo

It was the autumn term and you were struggling. You weren’t sure what it was about this weather that just drained you of energy, the lack of light or the cold seeping into your bones. The idea of having dark mornings and dark evenings made your mood sour and no matter what you did, it wasn’t getting any better. You knew you had work that needed doing, your to do list steadily getting bigger and your will to donit getting smaller.

You had been off school for a week now, with Kuroo away at traing camp he was none the wiser. You were able to hide your troubles from him, he would call in the evening which would he the time you got home. He was always so cheerful, face lit up with his stories about his day and games. Often you would have his teammates crash the call and hear the mayhem as he tried to wrestle the phone away from them.

Last night, Lev had stolen the phone and started complaining about being picked on. As much as you loved your boyfriend, Lev was a sweetheart and you had a huge soft spot for him. Kuroo had wrestled the phone away from him and you watched the fight ensue in the background. With so much going on, it was easy to divert the attention away from yourself, load all the focus on his team and their game today.

Glancing at the clock, you knew the team would be on their way back by now. It was the afternoon and school was still in full force, the homework from last week still on your desk and your phone full of messages from friends asking where you were. Soon you heard Kuroo's special ringtone light up your phone. He would always message you after a match and meet with you, walking you home at the end of the day while filling you in about the camp. You would pick up snacks on the way and the lounge around on the sofa watching movies together. But today? You just couldn't do it.

Kuroo was confused and worried. Not only had you not answered your phone but you weren't in your class. Your friends hadn't heard from you in a while and that wasn't like you. Dialling your number again, he waved goodbye to his teammates before making his way to your house. He was almost there, turning back at the last minute to grab your favourite flowers and food from your local shop.

Arriving at your house, he could see that the lights were off but your car was parked outside. Calling you again, he could hear your phone ring from inside the house but you made no attempt to answer it. Banging on the door, he waited and waited. Tension growing by the minute when you didn't appear.

"Kitten! I can hear your phone ringing. Answer the door."

You knew you should answer it, you phone had rang about twelve times and you had about twenty messages as well as four voicemails. Dragging yourself out of bed, you went to your window and peered out, seeing his dark hair as he bent over his phone. The image tugged at your heart, you could see his brows furrowed as he bounced on his toes. A sure sign that he was anxious and worried.

"Kitten. Open the door. I can see your shadow in the window."

You tensed as he said that, begrudgingly walking to the door and bracing yourself against it. Tears forming in your eyes as you thought about how you worried everyone, how much of a letdown you were and how unreliable.

"Baby." His voice was softer now, closer too. "Open the door. I'm worried about you. Lemme at least see you ok? If you wanna be alone afterwards, I'll leave."

Cracking the door open a few centimetres, you peered through and saw Kuroo's face. It instantly softened, you felt your eyes fill with tears as he reached across and ran his thumb under your eyes, most probably seeing the dark circles you had. Letting him push the door open further, you let him pull you into a hug. His arms wrapping securely around your body as you fell into him, his voice a low shushing in your ear and it was then that you realised you were crying. Tears tracking down your face and soaking his jersey as you stood.

"Kitten, I gotcha. I'll always be here for you. Shhh. Don't cry baby. You're breaking my heart here. Let's get you inside yeah? I bought some food and we can lounge around like always." He pulled away and a look of panic crossed his face. "If that's what you want. If not, I'll go. I don't wanna intrude or-"

"No, Tetsu. I'd love to have you here... but, I'm not in a great place. I don't wanna-"

"Baby listen, my heart is wherever you are. If you're hurting, I'm hurting too. We'll get through this together ok? Let's stay in bed, watch some movies and eat our body weight in junk. If you're feeling up to it tomorrow, we'll organise things yeah? School work. Homework. Whatever. I'm back now, you don't have to do this alone."

[joonie-beanie]

Present | Diluc x Reader

Word Count: 6,692

Pairing: Diluc x GN Reader (Traveler)

Preview: After realizing that Diluc never gives himself a chance to relax and enjoy the many festivals of Mondstadt, you and Kaeya come up with a plan to create a festival specifically for Diluc. One that he won't have a choice but to enjoy.

"I want this all to work, because more than anything, I want to see the look on that bastard’s face when he realizes we’ve created an event so perfect that he’ll have no reason not to relax. He’ll be pissed.”

In which Kaeya is a little shit, Diluc doesn't know what's coming, and you're a bit of a (love-stricken) fool.

Mondstadt, as the city of freedom, has no shortage of festivals.

Each year, there’s at least half a dozen festivals—well, official ones, at least. Sometimes Good Hunter or Angel’s Share just happen to be doing a special of sorts—you know, a new wine tasting, a limited-time seasonal recipe, and all of the sudden the entirety of Mondstadt is out enjoying themselves and creating a festival of their own.

During the first leg of your journey, when you’d crusaded with the Knights in order to stop Dvalin, you’d experienced your fair share of the city’s festivities. On a handful of occasions, you’d ended up nursing a glass of Dandelion wine—watching as Mondstadt’s residents mingled in the bars, and seeped out into the music filled streets.

Venti had a habit of putting on a show, his cheeks flushed pink as his melody entranced his audience. Jean tended to immerse herself in her work, but Lisa and Amber always managed to drag her away—the trio getting a bite to eat, and a bottle to share. And Kaeya…well, Kaeya could typically be found in Cat’s Tail—flirting his way through the evening with no shortage of confidence. And if he ever felt like being a bit more mischievous, he’d head over to Angel’s Share and see if he could rile Diluc’s feathers.

Speaking of…the red-headed winery owner never quite seemed to enjoy the liveliness of Mondstadt. No matter how much his workers tried to relieve him of his place behind the bar, he never opted to indulge himself. On occasion, he would leave Charles to run things by himself—quietly slipping out the back door and returning no more than 15 minutes later, not a hair out of place.

It wasn’t until after you’d figured out exactly who the Darknight Hero was that you realized what exactly it was he was doing in those short reprieves of his.

“You know,” you say, the evening of your last festival in Mondstadt. Diluc is making his way back in from the side gate—the masks of defeated Hilichurls left in the grass behind him. “You deserve a break.”

“The Knights use the city’s festivities as an excuse to get drunk and shirk their duties,” he responds, crimson gaze turning to you. “If I don’t keep an eye out, Mondstadt will be left undefended.”

“But that’s not fair to you!” Paimon argues over your shoulder, peeved on his behalf. “Even Master Diluc deserves some downtime!”

“I feel better when I’m doing something—slacking off doesn’t suit me.”

“It’s not slacking off it's relaxing,” you argue, scooting from your spot atop the short concrete wall and following after him once he makes his way up the stairs. “Everyone deserves to relax, especially you, Diluc.”

He sighs at your persistence, B-lining for the back door to the bar.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Y/N.”

“I don’t need to, but I am.”

He pauses in his stride, turning to look at you. Confusion creases his brow, as if he’s not used to anyone outside of his staff genuinely worrying for his well being.

He stares at you for a few seconds, his gaze flitting to the slight pout of your lips. Unfortunately, a little pout isn’t enough to break him.

“Please don’t worry, I promise I’m fine,” he says, his features softening. He doesn’t smile, but the look in his eye is enough to have your heart skipping a beat. Luckily, if your cheeks flush, it can easily be passed off as a side effect of the glass of alcohol you’d already downed.

Without waiting for a response, Diluc then strides forward and returns to the bar. You’re left alone in the street, staring after him--at least, until someone else saddles up beside you.

“I came looking for our dear old friend Diluc since I noticed he was gone, and here I find him out here with you,” Kaeya’s teasing voice reaches your ear. You glance over your shoulder at him, rolling your eyes when he cocks an insinuating brow.

“15 minutes is long enough for a quickie, no?”

“Oh hush,” you say, slapping the front of your hand against his chest. He chuckles.

“Hey, don’t tell me you would be opposed.”

You decide not to respond to that, opting to change the topic, and while Kaeya certainly notices, he chooses not to push it.

“You know,” you start. “Diluc never participates in these festivals because he knows the Knight’s are out enjoying themselves.”

“Ah, and by that you mean “Diluc hates the fact that the Knights are taking a break, and is busy masquerading as the Darknight Hero to protect the city instead, since he thinks we’re incompetent”.”

You wince at his wording. “Well…I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“But he would,” Kaeya scoffs. He eyes the drink in his hand, swirling the contents at the bottom of the glass. Silence stretches for a moment.

“You’re worried about him.”

“I think he just deserves to…I don’t know…enjoy himself??”

A grin stretches at Kaeya’s lips. “Well, if you show up in his bedroom wearing a cute little lingerie set I’m sure he’d—”

“Paimon, look! There’s Venti!” you hurriedly interrupt him, pointing at the intoxicated bard that has come into view just up the road. “Didn’t you say he owes you a meal at Good Hunter?!”

Luckily, the distraction works. Paimon gasps, realizing you’re right, and floats away from your side.

“Hey! Good for nothing bard! Time to pay up!”

You breathe a sigh of relief before turning a narrowed gaze on Kaeya. He holds his hands up innocently.

“Whoops~”

“You have no self-control,” you tell him with a huff, attempting to brush past him and head back into the bar. The cryo-user catches your wrist, however, before you can get too far. With little trouble, he tugs you backwards—your bottom bumping into a wooden table set out behind you, and you reach back to steady yourself. Kaeya places his hands on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

He smiles cheekily.

“If I had no self-control, you’d be flung over my shoulder as I carried you back to your lodgings.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Then what’s stopping you?”

The question isn’t teasing, but curious. This is far from the first time Kaeya has entered your personal space, or made naughty insinuations while around you. In fact, once before he had thrown you over his shoulder and attempted to escape, only to be stopped by Jean along the way.

This time, however, despite his bold words, he’s not moving to follow-through.

You hold his gaze, waiting for an answer, and he sighs.

Hanging his head, his soft hair brushes against the skin of your neck as he rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“Because…I think you’re right.”

“…what?”

“I think you’re right,” he repeats, finally taking a step back and giving you some space. There’s a disgruntled yet bashful look on his face.

“I think…maybe…Diluc should relax for a day. Even just an evening, really. I mean, after all, if he doesn’t relax every now and then he’ll age horribly.”

You breathe a laugh at that.

Pushing yourself up, you eye the Knight considerately.

“…you really do care about him, don’t you?”

Kaeya shoots you a look—one that obviously screams “don’t you dare say a word more”—and luckily for him, you don’t. At least, not about his secret concern for Diluc.

“So, if we want to get him to relax for once, how do we do it?”

Kaeya pauses, considering how exactly the two of you can take on this nearly-impossible task. It will be no easy feat to get Diluc to relax, even if only for a few hours. He doesn’t trust a majority of the Knights of Favonius, if any, so even if Kaeya recruited other Knights to guard the city during the next festival, he doubts Diluc would simply accept the increased defense in Mondstadt and relax.

No…of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“The city is too big,” Kaeya says, making his thoughts known. “Even if the Knights didn’t take a break during the next festival, and chose to patrol instead, I don’t think Diluc would see them as competent enough to actually prevent an attack. He’d assume they’re pouting about being on guard while the rest of the city is having fun, which…wouldn’t exactly be wrong, I’m afraid to admit.”

“Then…why not have a festival in a smaller area?” you suggest. “Maybe the area around the cathedral, or—”

“The winery…”

There’s a look of surprise on Kaeya’s face, like he’s taken aback by his own brilliant idea. But, the more you think about it, the winery would be a perfect place. The area to survey isn’t nearly as large as the entire city, and the winery is already bustling with staff that could help out with the preparations.

“That…yeah, that would definitely work,” you agree, feeling excited that this plan might actually be successful. But…then you remember your sibling, and the fact that you’re leaving for Liyue in the upcoming days, and your cheery demeanor quickly melts away. Kaeya, even while buzzed, is quick to notice.

“Leave all the preparation to me,” he says. “I can ask Jean, and Venti…maybe even Amber to help out too. I want this all to work, because more than anything, I want to see the look on that bastard’s face when he realizes we’ve created an event so perfect that he’ll have no reason not to relax. He’ll be pissed.”

You laugh at that. “Okay, I feel bad leaving you to do everything, but…I trust you, if only because I know your need to see him pissed off is genuine.”

“Perfect,” he says. “You just need to meet me at the Winery at noon exactly 30 days from now.”

“30 days from now?” you blink, head tilting to the side. “Why--?”

“April 30th,” he responds, not bothering to explain when you don’t register the significance of the date. “You’ll see. Just be there.”

“Got it,” you nod. “April 30th.”

Kaeya hums, pleased that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon, and then leans in. Before you can register the movement—too busy thinking about your and Kaeya’s newly formed scheme—you feel a pair of lips press against your cheek.

Kaeya smiles as he inches back.

“Now, be safe in Liyue, alright?”

As annoying and flirtatious as Kaeya can be at times, you sense a sincerity in his words and his actions.

“I will,” you promise softly, and with that, Kaeya turns and disappears back into the city. Two days later you leave Mondstadt behind as you make your way to Liyue, and never once do you forget to count down the days each time the sun sets.

Exactly 30 days after your conversation with Kaeya, you wake up in a bed at the Wanshu Inn. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, and you feel the most rested you’ve felt in the last month of traversing all over Liyue. You assume it’s thanks to being able to sleep in a real bed—not a sleeping bag, in a tent, with one eye open in case any monsters come your way.

No, after accepting a commission for the Inn, they’d offered you mora as a reward, and immediately you’d turned around and given it right back.

“Can I…have a room for the night, instead?”

Thankfully, they’d been more than happy to oblige.

“Today’s the day!” Paimon exclaims as the two of you make your way out of Wanshu, and up the road to the North. “We get to see all our friends from Mondstadt! Aren’t you excited??”

“Of course I am!” you respond with a quiet laugh, eyes trailed on the path ahead. It will be a few hours walk to make it to the winery, but you should make it there by noon no problem.

“I’m just…a little worried. I hope Kaeya’s planning went alright…”

“Oh, don’t start worrying about silly stuff!” Paimon scolds you. “We’ll be there soon, so don’t start thinking bad things! Just trust Kaeya, okay?”

You look at her curiously.

“…do you trust Kaeya?”

Paimon stares blankly. Then, she speeds up the path, arm outstretched.

“Okay! Let’s get a move on!”

You make it through the mountain pass between Mondstadt and Liyue just as the sun hits its highest point in the warm spring sky. Across the lake, you can spot the Dawn Winery and a smile tugs at your lips.

While you’re learning to love Liyue, Mondstadt and its people had been the first to come into your life. For that reason, the familiar sights and sounds have you feeling just a bit more at ease.

“Look! There’s Kaeya!”

Paimon points up the path, and you spot Kaeya’s blue hair in the distance. There are other figures bustling around him, and judging by their outfits, you can only assume they’re employees of Dawn Winery.

Seems like Kaeya did manage to get Diluc’s people in on the surprise.

“Kaeyaaaaa~” Paimon cries as she floats on ahead, catching the Knights’ attention. He smiles charmingly at spotting you both.

“My favorite mysterious traveler and Paimon! Welcome back to Mondstadt.”

“Good to be back,” you respond with a smile as you make your way up the small set of steps. Your gaze sweeps across the winery, and you note the tables that have been set out on one end of the patio. On the other is a small wooden stage, and on either side of the entrance are long banquet tables.

“I see you actually planned something. I’m impressed.”

Kaeya looks seriously offended at the comment.

“What? You thought I would forget? Do you really think that little of me?” he sighs dramatically, but smiles when you roll your eyes and smack his arm.

“Well, you did good, Captain Kaeya, I have to admit.”

“Thank you,” he responds, turning to survey the progress of the winery workers. It’d taken up a chunk of his free time—getting this all planned—but hopefully the look of disbelief on Diluc’s face will make it all worthwhile.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “What is the plan?”

“Well,” Kaeya starts. He crosses his arms, looking up to the sun in the sky. “Master Diluc is away on a trip to Starfell Lake to meet with a potential vendor for the winery. He should be back at…eh…I’d say 3, normally, but my guess is he’ll make some pit stops on the road home to take care of some rouge slimes and hilichurls, so let’s go with 4.”

You breathe a laugh, realizing he’s right. “Okay, fair. So until then it’s just preparation here, I’m guessing. What are we doing about defending the city?”

“Jean asked Lisa to lead a training exercise with the rest of the Knights. An all-night patrol of both the outside and inside of the city walls—a “test” of their will-power.”

“So…trying not to fall asleep on the job?”

Kaeya smiles. “Maybe.”

“Well, so long as the city is being protected, I can’t say anything. Hopefully that will be enough to reassure Diluc.”

“If it’s not, we can just force-feed him a few glasses of wine.”

Speaking of, you watch as two of the winery workers roll out a HUGE barrel of wine. Apparently, there are no holds barred when it comes to throwing an event for their master…

“We’re also using protection for the winery,” Kaeya pipes up, turning to stare to the North. “Amber managed to talk to that wolf boy, Razor, and he agreed to keep an eye out across Wolvendom. Amber volunteered herself to keep tabs on the area between here and Springville, so I don’t think the Abyss Order will get away with trying anything tonight.”

You nod, surprised at the lengths Kaeya had gone to make this a perfect chance for Diluc to relax.

“…god he’s gonna hate us for this,” you sigh, holding your face in your hands. You care about Diluc so much it’s insane, and the only thing you want for him is to take a little break, but man he is gonna be pissed.

“There there,” Kaeya says, patting your back. “No sense worrying now—everything is already in motion. For now, why don’t you see if you can help the preparations in some way? Everything needs to be perfect for Master Diluc, after all.”

You shoot him a disgruntled look. “Ugh, it’s so weird when you call him that. Stop it.”

“I think he gets off on it,” Kaeya responds, an amused glint in his eyes. “Maybe you should try calling him that when the two of you are alone—see if it makes him blush.”

“I’ll hurt you,” you deadpan.

“Maybe I get off on that.”

Wow, he doesn’t miss a beat.

Snorting a laugh, you turn away from him and move to help the winery staff. In just a few hours, you’ll see Diluc for the first time in too long (although you won’t admit that to anyone), and you want to do what you can to make this evening great for him.

Everything goes swimmingly until Jean arrives just before 4pm—jogging up to you and Kaeya with a perplexed look on her face.

“I know how important it is for there to be guards in order to get Master Diluc to relax, but a large number of slimes were spotted near Windrise, and with the Knights of Favonius doing their training exercise tonight in the city, I had no one available to send except Amber,” she explains with a sigh, rubbing her fingers against her forehead.

Worry knots in your throat, eyes scanning the crowd of people that have already gathered. Many of the guests are employees of the winery and patrons of Angel Share that Diluc gets along with. Only a handful of the people present have Visions, but asking any of them to give up being a part of the fun to go and stand watch in the nearby hills sounds like a terrible thing to do.

“Well--,” Kaeya interrupts your thoughts, rolling one of his shoulders. “Guess I’ll have to take over. My dear friend doesn’t seem to enjoy seeing my face around here anyway, so I might as well—”

“No,” you interrupt him. “I’ll play guard.”

Both Kaeya and Jean pause.

“Y/N…,” Jean starts, looking torn. “You traveled all this way. Out of anyone here, you should get to stay and enjoy the festivities…”

“No, it’s okay—Diluc doesn’t even know I’m here, right? I can watch for enemies. You both stay here and enjoy yourselves.”

Paimon looks heartbroken. “Well…if you insist, but won’t you miss seeing Master Diluc?”

You smile at her, attempting to be reassuring. The idea of coming all this way and not getting to mingle with your friends certainly does make your heart ache, but the entire point of this event is to let Diluc relax, and have fun. So, long as he does, you’ll be happy.

“He’ll be here soon,” you respond. Jean and Kaeya notice how you avoid answering the question—instead taking a step back and looking towards the northeast. “I should get going.”

You run off without waiting for the others to comment. Paimon scurries after you, shouting something about how she’ll keep you company instead.

“Idiot,” Kaeya sighs as Jean shakes her head.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late!” Venti says, coming up behind them. He’s got a bottle of wine tucked under his arm and a bright smile on his face. His eyes scan the nearby area, and when he spots that someone is missing, he frowns.

“Wasn’t Y/N supposed to be here?”

You’ve just arrived at the Statue of The Seven when you hear a chorus of cheers from the Winery. Turning, you watch over the treetops as the intimately sized crowd raises their glasses—sharing a toast before the merry music begins—rolling over the hills.

“I guess Diluc just arrived,” Paimon surmises, face drawn into a pout. You can tell that she wants to be down there, joining in on all the fun, and you can’t say you don’t share the sentiment.

“Looks like he took the long way around,” you say, turning away from the winery, and seating yourself at the base of the statue. “Otherwise, we would have passed him on the way here.”

Paimon frowns at you, floating down to look you in the eyes.

“Why does it seem like you’re trying to avoid Master Diluc?”

“I’m not,” you respond with a huff. “It’s just easier this way.”

Paimon doesn’t buy it.

“You know, Kaeya offered to keep guard. I’m sure Master Diluc would prefer to have you at the festival, rather than him.”

“Even if they act like brats towards one another, they’re still…frienemies,” you say, for lack of a better term. Silently, you attempt to block out the jovial noises behind you. You don’t want to be focused on something that you’re missing out on.

Paimon pouts even harder at your argument, looking like she’ll start stomping her foot midair, but she keeps her mouth shut for now. Even if you won’t say it, she knows you’re sacrificing your own wants at the moment, and bickering with you won’t do anything to help.

So, instead she flies down and sits herself snuggly in your lap—determined to make you feel better.

“I feel like any Hilichurls in Mondstadt already know not to mess with you,” she says, changing the subject. “Do you think any will show up?”

You breathe a laugh.

“I hope not. But they are quite dumb.”

Diluc has to admit…he was not expecting to come back to the winery to find that a makeshift festival had been staged at his very own home.

And on his birthday, no less.

“Surprise!”

“Welcome home!”

“Happy birthday!”

An array of familiar faces greet him as he steps into view—caught on the path between the rows of grapes. Understandably, he’s speechless. He typically is aware of the happenings of his staff, and if an event had planned in Mondstadt, surely he’d have gotten word, but…here he is, and here they are, and at the front of the pack is a certain Cryo-wielding Knight, grinning ear to ear.

Of course he had something to do with this.

“To Diluc!” Kaeya cheers, holding up his mug.

“To Diluc!” the rest of the guests’ chorus, and as if on cue, the music starts.

Diluc, perplexed, remains where he is. At least, until Jean and Venti make their way to him.

“I hope you don’t hate the surprise,” Jean speaks, offering him a glass of wine. “We just…wanted you to be able to relax for once. We know how busy you always are, and I also wanted to thank you for your help with Dvalin.”

“We?” Diluc echoes, taking the glass from her. He stares at it for a moment, hesitating, but then he remembers that Kaeya is here, and he takes a long swig.

“Yep! Me, Jean, Kaeya, Y/N--,” Venti doesn’t notice the way Diluc’s eyes light up with interest at the sound of your name. “—and even the people who frequent Angel’s Share, or work at Dawn Winery! We all thought it would be nice to hold something like this for you! And hey—no better time than your birthday.”

Diluc is silent for a moment, his scarlet eyes scanning over the crowd.

“Well,” he finally responds, apparently not having found what he’d been looking for. “If anything, I’m surprised. I should have suspected something was happening when I noticed the Knights patrolling the city in full force on my way back…”

Jean laughs—reaching out and giving his arm a friendly pat.

“Just try to enjoy yourself, alright? For one night.”

Diluc sighs heavily, but he can’t ignore the efforts everyone had put into throwing this mini-festival for him. Doing so would make him just as bad as anyone in the Abyss Order.

“Fine.”

Venti beams a smile, reaching out and snagging his wrist. Diluc’s eyes widen in shock.

“Good! Now let’s get you some food, and some more alcohol!”

For what it’s worth, Kaeya really does try to lay off the teasing. It’s Diluc’s birthday, after all. He can manage to be civil for a few hours, right? Right.

So, the cavalry captain keeps his distance—enjoys his alcohol and female companions at least 20ft away from Diluc. He dances along with the music, cracks jokes with the crowd, and flirts his way into more than a few women’s hearts. (And maybe even a man or two).

However, even while doing so, Kaeya quietly keeps tabs on the birthday boy. He is far from blind to the way Diluc’s gaze searches the grounds every so often, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone he’s sure not to find.

And yet, that doesn’t stop him from doing so time after time. Poor bastard.

Sighing, Kaeya stares past the winery, into the northeastern hills. He can see the light from the Anemo Statue beaming into the sky. A silent beacon of where to find you.

“You know,” Kaeya says, saddling up next to Diluc. He has decided to break his imaginary 20ft rule for the first time tonight—leaning back against the winery wall. Diluc is standing in front of him, eating a skewer, and blatantly avoiding making eye contact.

“It was Y/N’s idea—all of this. They wanted you to be able to relax for once.”

The redhead pauses for a millisecond at the mention of your name, before he quickly resumes chewing. Kaeya takes the opportunity to continue talking.

“I decided to help out, considering they were leaving for Liyue. Oh, and also because I wanted to see the look on your face.”

At that, Diluc shoots him a glare.

“Are you pleased with yourself?”

“Very,” Kaeya grins, swirling the wine in his glass. “You’re on your third drink, you’ve had two plates of food, and I’ve seen you smile nearly half a dozen times—which I’m pretty sure is a daily record.”

Diluc glares harder. Kaeya smiles wider.

“You’re enjoying yourself and hate me for it. This is the perfect outcome.”

Rolling his eyes, Diluc tosses the empty wooden skewer into a nearby trash bin and turns away. Kaeya is less than a step behind him—following Diluc as he makes his way to the edge of the crowd. As the two distance themselves from the heart of the festivities, Kaeya can spot the serenity swirling in the winery master’s colorful orbs. However, beneath it all, he sees a twinge of disappointment.

Once again, he finds his attention turning to nearby Anemo Statue.

Silence stretches. Then—

“I got you a present.”

Diluc cocks an eyebrow.

“I hope it’s not another vase.”

“No, that beauty is one of a kind,” Kaeya responds with a snort. “The issue is, my present…is playing hard to get. If you want to be able to unwrap it, you need to go to the Statue of The Seven.”

Now, Diluc just looks confused.

“You…left your present at the statue?”

“Actually, I think it’s hiding there.”

Worry etches into Diluc’s handsome face. Kaeya rolls his eyes.

“Why not go and see, Master Diluc? No harm in a little walk to get some fresh air, right?”

Diluc doesn’t grace him with a response. Instead, he stares at the blue-haired Knight with genuine concern. At least, until a small figure floats down the hillside and into view.

“Is that--?”

“Paimon!” Kaeya greets, not showing the least bit of surprise. “Wh—”

“Can’t talk! Gotta find a bathroom!” she yells, floating right past the two and towards the front door of the manner. Diluc stares after her, wondering if his eyes are playing tricks on him. However, when his gaze shifts to Kaeya, and he finds the Knight sipping on his wine, all while shooting him a teasing side-eye, Diluc knows what’s waiting for him at the statue.

“How long were you planning to hide from me up here?”

The sound of Diluc’s voice sends a shiver straight up your spine. Your entire body freezes, head stiffly turning to look at the man who now stands only a few feet behind you.

“I…I wasn’t hiding,” you say, jumping to your feet. You attempt to avoid his gaze, but his crimson orbs pull you in—refusing to let you look away.

Heat rises on your cheeks.

“I just…Amber was supposed to guard this area, but something came up, and I decided that since you didn’t know I was back, it wouldn’t be a loss, you know?”

Diluc’s brows furrow at your comment, but he says nothing. You cough, hoping to ease some of the tension.

“…how did you know I was up here, anyway?”

“Paimon floated down the hill from this direction,” he responds. He finally breaks eye contact, glancing up at the stars overhead. “Also, Kaeya told me that he’d left me a birthday present by the statue.”

For a moment, the cogs in your brain grind to a halt. A…what?

“It’s your birthday?!”

Diluc’s eyes widen innocently at your outburst. He looks confused, but judging by the way you’re quickly flushing red and looking bewildered, he can only assume you truly had no idea that today was his birthday.

“…you planned this event and didn’t even know the significance of the day?”

“Kaeya picked the day!” you respond, groaning into your hands. If you had known it was his birthday, you at least would have gotten a present for him! Something nice from Liyue! “I just wanted to have a festival where you could actually relax, and not be playing the hero to make up for the Knights slack! Ahhhh~”

You crouch down, holding your head between your hands. Dammit, if only you had known!

“I’m so sorry,” you finally say after a moment. “I didn’t know. I don’t have a present for you.”

If you weren’t freaking out, maybe you would have noticed the breath of laughter behind you, or the sound of footsteps making their way towards you through the thick grass. It’s not until Diluc crouches down in front of you and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear that you notice just how close he’s gotten.

“You’re present enough,” he says quietly, sincerely. His eyes are fond, his lips turned up into a soft smile, and for the first time in 30 days, you feel your heart skip a beat.

His fingers skim behind your ear—lingering longer than they need to—and you lift your hand—placing it atop his own and trapping it there.

“I missed you,” you admit, unable to look at him. “I didn’t want to hide myself away up here, but I thought it would be the best thing to do. I just wanted you to have a good time.”

“I am,” he reassures you, his gloved fingers curling around your own, and giving them a squeeze. He presses back to his full height, tugging you to your feet along with him. And when he releases your hand, you immediately find yourself missing his warmth.

“It just would have been nice to know that you were here. I could have snuck away sooner to come and visit.”

“Your friends are all down there.”

“But you’re here,” he immediately reminds you, the tips of his ears turning red. “And you also matter.”

The “to me” is left unspoken, but is certainly implied.

You chew the inside of your cheek. His admission—while it certainly causes your heart to race—has you feeling a bit worried.

“…are you drunk?”

The glare Diluc sends your way is telling enough, and you quickly try to backpedal.

“It—It’s just!” you spring forward, placing yourself in front of him just as he turns to leave. Your palms reach forward to press against his hard chest, effectively keeping him from going another step.

“I’m not used to…feelings…from you,” you admit, your thoughts coming out in a jumble. You don’t want him to go anywhere. He can’t just say something like that and then walk away. Doesn’t he know what he’s doing to your poor little heart??

“Of course, I’m not saying I don’t enjoy you opening up to me. I definitely do. I want you to be able to talk to me, and trust me. It was just…unexpected, okay?”

Your fingers curl into his black coat. Your eyes trace the checked pattern of his shirt.

“I…I like that I matter to you.”

You finally find the courage to look up at him, and damn, he’s so beautiful. You’re not even sure when it was that you fell for him. Perhaps it was when he faced the Abyss Order head-on at Mondstadt’s gate without anyone knowing, or when he followed you into Dvalin’s layer and fought alongside you for the first time. Really, you have no idea, but the fact of the matter is: you have feelings for him—feelings that you’ve been attempting to ignore.

“I…like you,” you admit, no more than a whisper.

On a quest for your lost sibling, you shouldn’t have time for inklings of love. Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself. It feels selfish—falling for Diluc, of all people, because charming as he is, he’s also stubborn, and closed-off.

You know this, and yet, you can’t stop yourself from yearning.

Unfortunately, you’re not sure he feels the same wa—

“Mmph—"

Diluc’s lips on yours is what manages to stop your worrying.

He wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close as his free hand cups your cheek. While at first you go stiff with shock, you quickly melt into him. He tastes like sweet wine, and smells like firewood, and gosh, he’s oh-so-warm.

“Mm,” you can’t help the appreciative groan, pressing yourself closer to him in a bid to soak up all the heat you can. Since the sun had set, the chilling air had soaked into your skin, and while you hadn’t realized it before, you certainly notice it now.

As your lips connect—once, twice, and again—a part of Diluc’s brain acknowledges that he should grace you with a response. That he should tell you how he feels. But…he’s not exactly good at that, and actions speak louder than words, right?

So, he tilts your head up—deepens the kiss. His brows furrow as he soaks up any sounds that escape you, internally conflicted by his actions. He’s not used to doing this--feeling this way. He never intended to feel anything for you—to feel sad when you left, and excited when you returned, but…here he is, and Barbatos be damned if he was going to let you slip away now.

“Diluc,” you pant, cheeks flushed as you manage to nudge the man away. As much as you enjoy his kisses, you need air.

“Sorry…,” he says, looking bashful. His cheeks are rosy, and his eyes nervous. He had acted on pure desire, without considering your feelings, or how his actions might be perceived.

“This isn’t like me,” he continues after a moment with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Diluc attempts to take a step back, but your grip on his jacket holds him steady.

“No, don’t be sorry,” you say. You give him a gentle tug—drawing him into you once again. Your eyes fall to his lips. “Just…shut up, and kiss me again.”

Diluc can see the desire in your eyes, and he’s not used to such an emotion being directed his way. Sure, he’s aware that a few select citizen’s perhaps have affections for him, but this is the first time anything has felt…mutual.

It’s terrifying.

Leaning in, he captures your lips once more—not hesitating to slot your mouths together and deepen the kiss. And when you make a contented sound, your fingers tracing up his chest and moving to wrap around his neck, Diluc immediately forgets about his inner conflict.

Right now, he refuses to waste the time he has with you. He can overthink his emotions later.

Wanting to be closer—to feel more of you—Diluc briefly breaks the kiss. He leans down, wrapping his arms beneath your thighs, and hefts you upwards. You make a sound of surprise, more heat rising on your face as you feel your back rest against the Anemo statue.

“This really isn’t like you,” you say, your palms moving to cup his face. Your thumbs brush over his cheeks, and you silently carve this version of him into your mind. His hair tousled and cheeks red—his body flush against yours. This is a Diluc you never want to forget.

“Shall I stop?” he asks, voice quiet. You immediately shake your head, drawing him into another kiss.

“No…it’s just a side of you I’m discovering for the first time. I don’t dislike it at all.”

You feel him smile against your lips.

“Good.”

Things begin to blur after that. The two of you forget about the festival being held in Diluc’s honor just a short way down the hill. You don’t consider that people are likely looking for the master of the winery—wondering exactly where he’d gone off to. No, the only thing the two of you think about is the feel of each other’s bodies pressed together, and the heated kisses you exchange.

Quiet gasps and moans begin to fill the area around the statue—your hands wandering against Diluc’s torso, and his lips moving to trail kisses against the sensitive skin of your throat. It’s very possible that things would have continued to get even more intimate…had someone not interrupted.

“I see you like my present.”

You can almost tangibly feel Diluc’s annoyance.

“I’ll kill you.”

Kaeya chooses to ignore that.

“It’s been over half an hour. People are starting to get worried about the birthday boy.”

“Let them worry.”

“No, hey, c’mon,” you say, brushing his hair away from his eyes and catching his attention. You smile sweetly, nodding your head towards his residence. “You should get back. This whole event is for you, after all.”

With a sigh, he loosens his grip on you—his hands moving to hold your waist as your feet touch the ground for the first time in minutes.

“Fine, but only if you come too.”

You frown. “But…the whole point of me being out here is to keep guard so you can rela—”

“I won’t be able to relax knowing you’re out here,” he argues, and the look on his face tells you he won’t be taking “no” for an answer.

“Okay, okay, fine—guess I have no choice,” Kaeya breaks the tension, sighing somewhat dramatically. For the first time, you note that there’s a bottle of dandelion wine tucked under his arm.

“You two lovebirds go enjoy the festivities. I’ll play guard until the night winds down. I’ve already had my share in the fun anyway.”

“Perfect,” Diluc says, grabbing your wrist and tugging you away. Helplessly being dragged toward the winery by its master, you at least manage to turn and mouth a “thank you” to Kaeya. Because despite your determination to guard over the area, you really are looking forward to being able to spend some time at the party with Diluc and your friends.

Kaeya flashes you a smile in response, his lips innocently parting as he mouths back some words of his own.

“Use protection.”

Sometimes, you really hate him. Tonight though…

You glance to the redhead in front of you, moving your hand so your fingers slot through his own. He slows his stride—allowing you to catch up—and then gives your hand a squeeze.

You can’t help but smile.

Tonight, you can’t find it in yourself to be mad. Not when Diluc looks so happy.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

RESISTERE TENTATIONEM: CAPITULUM II

TĒCTUS: Covered, concealed, hidden, having been covered, hidden or concealed

Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader

Warnings: +18, mature content

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @alyhull , @bellalutionn , @aerynscrichton , @serpantscorpio8497 , @ava-valerie , @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts , @squirreledelman , @cazxcx , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @bayley-no-friends , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox

Notes: I would like to thank @letsgivethisonemoreshot , for not only being my partner in crime with this trilogy but also being one of the best friends someone could ever have 😘 This is fully written in Damian’s POV. If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist

Want to hear a joke that’s really in poor taste? The Mother Superior of the famous Mary Magdalene Convent (isn’t that ironic) is being accused of hosting ‘parties’ to the oh so loving convent donors. And you know who isn’t invited to those parties? Jesus Christ. Because the Devil sure loves to be a part of them! Drugs, orgies, alcohol, prostitution, even black masses... you name it! Everything that is unholy happens in the so-called house of holiness, and if that isn’t a bad taste joke, I don’t know what is.

So here I am now, driving towards the Devil’s den: the Mary Magdalene convent for three torturous days of interviews. Out of all of the reporters from The New York Times, of course I was the one who drew the short straw and got assigned this article. Some people see this as a career changing opportunity... a blessing, but me? I see it as a fucking curse! I don’t like religion, I don’t like churches, I don’t like priests and I sure as hell don’t like nuns! Anything that has the word “holy” in it, I prefer to be as far away as I possibly can from. But today was not my lucky day….no, today was the day that I was going to be tested. The only thing I’m hoping for is to not fail.

I knocked on the convent’s door and a young lady answered me.

“Hi, good morning. I’m Damian Priest, reporter from The New York Times and I’m here for an interview with” I looked down at my notepad “Mrs. Y/N L/N? Whom I believe is the Mother Superior”

The young girl only nodded once and motioned for me to follow her, without saying a word.

I followed her in, mesmerized by the size of the convent, the whole place was fancy as fuck on the inside. Art pieces from famous painters were displayed on the walls, modern furniture, dim lights that made the place look cozy and inviting. *What a scam* I thought to myself. The young lady in front of me suddenly stopped walking and pointed towards the door in front of her before turning around and leaving.

Presuming that it was the Mother Superior’s office, I knocked on the door twice before someone told me to come in. You see, when they told me I was going to be interviewing the Mother Superior of a convent, the last thing I expected was for her to not only be beautiful, but young (considering I was under the impression that women in that position were around sixty years old). She was breathtaking to say the least! Soft features, her skin had an angelic glow to it and there was something in her eyes that trapped you in them...something you could not turn your gaze away from no matter how bad you wanted to.

“Mr. Priest, please sit down” She smiled

I nodded and sat on the chair in front of her desk

“Thank you for taking some time out of your busy schedule to speak with me, Mother Y/L/N-“

“Please, call me Y/N” Her sultry voice spoke

“Y/N” I tested the word on my lips and it sounded oddly pleasant

She smiled softly and...fuck she’s gorgeous! Her beauty was a painful and constant reminder of what you couldn’t have, couldn’t touch, couldn’t-“

“Mr. Priest?” She said softly

“Damian”

“Damian, would you like something to drink? Coffee, water, juice, tea perhaps?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you” I answered, while grabbing my notepad and a pen out of my backpack. Clearing my throat, I said “Can we get started with the pre-interview?”

“Of course” She smiled widely and reached for a cigarette pack on top of the table, which made me raise an eyebrow

“We all have our dirty little secrets, don’t we, Damian?” She asked, licking the cigarette filter before sucking it

*Am I going crazy?* I thought to myself

“Damian? Your first question is?” She giggled

“Ummm” I cleared my throat once again “Y/N, recently the convent was involved in a huge scandal involving drugs, prostitution, orgies and black masses. Would you like to clarify why an institution that’s deeply connected to the church is in the middle of something so profane?”

She grinned “God is in the most profane things, Damian. After all, the sinners are the ones who need Him the most, aren’t they?”

“I’m not sure if I follow-”

“You see” She took a long drag on her cigarette and walked towards me “God is our Lord and savior. He forgives us from our sins, grants us forgiveness to our most foul actions” She sat down on the chair beside me “If you steal from someone and repent; He’ll forgive you, kill someone and repent; He’ll save you, cheat on your wife with the hot, young next door neighbor and repent; He’ll brush it underneath the carpet and pretend it never happened” She shrugged “God doesn’t judge, Damian. He only forgives” She leaned forward on the arm of the chair, until she was uncomfortably close to me “So if the big boss himself doesn't judge anyone, then why should I?”

“And what does judgment have to do with drugs, orgies and sin?”

She smiled “How can God forgive you if you don’t sin, Damian?”

“And how can God forgive his so-called followers who incite others to sin, Y/N?”

“Incite others to sin?” She chuckled “Are you talking about the allegations, the donors or yourself?” She smirked

………………………………………………….......................

Since we’re so far from town I was informed that I would have to spend the night at the convent. They showed me my bedroom and it looked pretty fancy. King size bed, Egyptian sheets, expensive furniture. Everything was oddly normal, except for the weird dream I recalled having. I was at the convent, lost, calling for help because I somehow ended up locked in here. I was inside what looked like a large basement, the room was only lit by red lights, a faint smell of leather took over my nostrils as I heard someone moaning softly in my ear…a woman. And the weirdest thing was that I could’ve sworn I felt her breath against my ear. Needless to say I woke up with my dick as hard as a rock and had to spend a solid thirty minutes trying to get rid of a very painful boner, which did not leave me no matter how many times I came. Half hard and inside a convent...yeah, I’m definitely going to Hell!

“How did you sleep, Damian?” Was the first thing I was asked when I walked into the Mother Superior’s office in the morning. Something in her voice told me she knew exactly what I had done underneath the shower.

“Good”

“I bet you woke up feeling much better after a good night of rest, right?” She smiled devilishly and I just nodded

“Would you mind if we took a tour through the convent at some point?” I asked, quickly changing subjects

“Of course not! Let me know when you want one”

I nodded and began to ask my questions

“So, why do so many men keep coming and going from this convent? Seems like the place men shouldn’t be”

“The only men who come to the convent, Damian, are maintenance, the donors for the ‘thank you parties’ we host and now you” She smiled

“How do you get so many people to keep donating?”

“We don’t oblige anyone to do anything. People are still kind enough to see the work we do for those in need and they get touched by it. So God is the one who inspires them to donate, Damian. Not me”

“I’ve noticed a lot of fancy things here. Shouldn’t the money be going to something else?”

“The ‘fancy’ things you see are gifts from the donors. Things they felt in their hearts they should give us freely. We don’t buy things for the convent, apart from food. That’s one of the rules”

“Speaking of rules” I looked at her “Why are you smoking? Isn't that not allowed?”

“We don’t have rules against smoking here, Damian. The choice to do it or not is personal, but there are no rules for it. It’s not forbidden or a sin. Now, if you think nuns shouldn’t smoke, I suggest you pay a visit to the convents in Rome and give them a piece of your mind about their choices regarding health”

I chuckled at her comeback

“Why so cynical about our good intentions?” She licked her lips

“Because you don’t have any” I spat

“We live for helping those in need, Damian” She pointed towards my visible bulge

“Helping those in need, huh? And what do you get out of it?”

She walked towards me “Satisfaction in its purest form” She lifted one hand up and caressed my lower belly over my shirt “It’s incredible how much providing relief to others can trigger the biggest pleasure in our bodies...to see their eyes semi-closed in...relief is so rewarding to me”

I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. “And just how needy do these people have to be?” I was speaking in financial terms of course

“Very needy” Her hand toyed with my jeans button “Some even have trouble sleeping due to their neediness, so you can see how a helping hand goes so well in this case...even the right mouth, you know to profess the Lord’s word”

“And just how many of these ‘charitable acts’ have you been involved with?” I felt my cock grow harder and harder

“Directly? Only when things get too hard, Damian” Her hand brushed against my hard bulge “That’s when I offer my help, so things can stop getting so hard and painful”

I gulped as I tried to shift away from her touch “So what, you just have all these other poor girls do your dirty work for you?” I try to keep my serious composure

“I’m not afraid of getting dirty, Damian. The girls do what they can, what they’re instructed to...but sometimes things get so hard that I have no other option but intervene” She pulled the fly of my jeans down “Then, once the seed of evil is finally spilled, things can go back to being soft again” She leaned in closer “Would you like a demonstration, Damian? I’m sure you have some kind of evil inside you that needs to be released” She asked with a sinister smile reaching her hand into the waistband of my boxer briefs

“I’m just here for work, Y/N, I have nothing to donate”

“Don’t worry about it. My girls will not be involved in this...it will be our little secret”

“I would like the tour now, please”

She smirked “Of course” and stepped away from me “This way” She went out the door as if nothing had happened

“Psycho bitch” I whispered to myself, as I pulled the fly of my jeans up and tied my hoodie around my waist to cover up the boner.

“This way we have the nuns bedrooms” She pointed towards a hallway “Kitchen, restrooms, archives, laundry room, storage for cleaning supplies, pantry” She explained each room, until we were outside “The patio, garden; where we cultivate flowers, fruits and vegetables, garage and the chapel is this way”

She walked towards a medium sized chapel in the middle of the garden, it looked like a regular chapel on the inside. It had an altar with a bible on it, a pulpit, a big cross, devotional statues of catholic saints, wooden benches and a confessional. Candles were lit up all over the place and everything looked normal. Scarily normal, until I noticed a few nuns who were sat on one of the benches staring at me with a weird look on their eyes

“Why are they looking at me like that?” I asked Y/N

“Like what?”

“Like, with...” I trailed off

“With desire?” She whispered in a mocking tone

I looked down at her speechless

“One could say that you’re a little too obsessed with the lust theme, Damian” She smiled “It’s all you can think about ever since you got here, dear. You should be careful” She licked her lips and pulled me by my hand towards her office again.

………………………........................................................

Later that night while I was trying to get some sleep, I began to hear some mumbling. Muffled voices kept saying something unintelligible and filling up the bedroom with mainly female voices. But one of the voices sounded too familiar to me...

I stood up from the bed and began to search in the room where those voices could be coming from, and as I almost gave up, I found it. A small hole of the size of a coin, in the concrete wall in front of my bed. Scooting closer to the wall, I knelt down and peeked through the hole, but weirdly enough, the room was pitch black. The mumbling started again and they soon became moans. Above all the moaning voices, one stood out to me. It was Y/N’s voice, she moaned softly while she said something I couldn’t quite understand. Her voice was filled with lust, her moans were pornographic and I could swear she was moaning my name. It both frightened and turned me on, so I did what any wise man would do. I returned to the bed, laid down and jerked off before falling into a deep slumber.

..................................................................................

“Wake up” Someone softly whispered in my ear

I quickly opened my eyes and my heart was beating at a frantic pace due to the fright.

A young girl was sitting down on my bed “Please, follow me” was all she said before standing up and leaving my room

I was so confused that I didn’t even bother to grab a t-shirt, so I just followed her down the hall barefoot and only with a pair of sweatpants on. Looking outside the hallway windows, I could see that the sky was still dark, which could only mean it was the late hours of morning.

She took me inside the laundry room and pressed a button underneath the folding clothes table. A door opened and a red light lit up the dark wooden stairs. I continued to follow her down the stairs, and we began to walk down a long hallway that looked more like a basement. The whole place had only red lights as the lighting source, so it took my eyes a while to get used to it.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, but only received silence as a response

We walked for what felt like ten minutes until we reached a black wooden door with an iron door knocker. She knocked on the door four times and left.

“Is this a prank?” I asked myself, after five minutes of standing there alone. Suddenly the door opened, but I couldn’t see anything other than darkness ahead

“Hello?” I called from the doorway, but no one answered back

The thing that made me such a great reporter was my utter curiosity, and even with all my senses screaming ‘don’t go in there!’ I decided to listen to my curious side instead, and went into the room. As soon as I stepped a foot inside, the door behind me closed shut.

The room was pitch black and I stumbled across a few items. I placed my hand on top of what felt like a table so I could try to guide myself through the room, at least back to the door again so I could leave. When suddenly I felt several pairs of soft hands on my torso pulling me back.

“What the fuck?” I gasped in shock

But before I could make a move, my wrists and ankles were tied to a wooden surface and a red light turned on in the room

Five nuns were in front of me, staring silently at my body

“Leave” Someone said from behind me, and the nuns obeyed and left

“I would be lying if I said you weren’t a beautiful sight” Y/N said, and and walked in front of me

“You psycho bitch” I growled and pulled at the restraints “Let me go!”

She smiled “Oh Damian...You don’t want that!” Her nails softly scratched my lower belly “And neither do I”

“You’re sick! Let me go, you fucking-“

“Na ah” She slapped me across the face “I’m done playing these pretending games” She lit up a cigarette “Pretend you didn’t jerk off to my moans, pretending you don’t want to fuck me...that gets tiring” She dipped her hand inside my sweatpants and found my semi hard bulge “You’ve wanted to fuck me ever since you laid eyes on me” She giggled and I licked my dry lips

“Those sinful, filthy, thoughts you’ve had, Damian” She closed her fist around my erection “You wanted to know what we do here, right? We purge that demon out of you” And scooted closer until her lips brushed against my own with every word she spoke

“We send him away, so he can’t bother you anymore” She freed my cock from my pants and began to pump her hand up and down “We release you from the seed of evil”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I panted

Y/N knelt down in front of me and darted her tongue out, licking my slit “Give me the seed of evil, Damian” and gave an open mouth kiss on my tip “Feed me with it” Licked the underside of my shaft “Release yourself from what’s been bothering you ever since you got here” Darting her tongue out “Use me to purify your soul” And opened her mouth wider.

At such a sight I had no other option but to buck my hips forward…

And chase for my cleansing

If you’re comfortable with it, please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[pumpkinpaix]

Hello! Feel free not to answer this question if it is in any way too much, but I've been wondering about something concerning the "western" mdzs fandom. Lately, i have seen multiple pieces of fanart that use what is clearly Christian symbolism and sometimes downright iconography in depicting the characters. I'm a european fan, but it still makes me vaguely uneasy. I know that these things are rarely easy to judge. I'm definitely not qualified to do so and was wondering if you have an opinion

Hi there! thank you for your patience and for the interesting question! I’ve been thinking about this since i received this ask because it?? idk, it’s difficult to answer, but it also touches on a a few things that I find really interesting.

the short answer: it’s complicated, and I also don’t know what I feel!

the longer answer:

i think that this question is particularly difficult to answer because of how deeply christianity is tied to the western art and literary canon. so much of what is considered great european art is christian art! If you just take a quick glance at wiki’s page on european art, you can see how inextricable christianity is, and how integral christian iconography has been in the history of european art. If you study western art history, you must study christian imagery and christian canon because it’s just impossible to engage with a lot of the work in a meaningful way without it. that’s just the reality of it.

Christianity, of course, also has a strong presence in european colonial and imperialist history and has been used as a tool of oppression against many peoples and nations, including China. I would be lying if I said I had a good relationship with Christianity--I have always faced it with a deep suspicion because I think it did some very, very real damage, not just to chinese people, but to many cultures and peoples around the world, and that’s not a trauma that can be easily brushed aside or reconciled with.

here is what is also true: my maternal grandmother was devoutly christian. my aunt is devoutly christian. my uncle’s family is devoutly christian. my favorite cousin is devoutly christian. when I attended my cousin’s wedding, he had both a traditional chinese ceremony (tea-serving, bride-fetching, ABSURDLY long reception), and also a christian ceremony in a church. christianity is a really important part of his life, just as it’s important to my uncle’s family, and as it was important to my grandmother. I don’t think it’s my right or place to label them as simply victims of a colonialist past--they’re real people with real agency and choice and beliefs. I think it would be disrespectful to act otherwise.

that doesn’t negate the harm that christianity has done--but it does complicate things. is it inherently a bad thing that they’re christian, due to the political history of the religion and their heritage? that’s... not a question I’m really interested in debating. the fact remains that they are christian, that they are chinese, and that they chose their religion.

so! now here we are with mdzs, a chinese piece of media that is clearly Not christian, but is quickly gaining popularity in euroamerican spaces. people are making fanart! people are making A LOT of fanart! and art is, by nature, intertextual. a lot of the most interesting art (imo) makes deliberate use of that! for example (cyan art nerdery time let’s go), Nikolai Ge’s What is Truth?

I love this painting! it’s notable for its unusual depiction of christ: shabby, unkempt, slouched, in shadow. if you look for other paintings of this scene, christ is usually dignified, elegant, beautiful, melancholy -- there’s something very humanizing and humbling about this depiction, specifically because of the way it contrasts the standard. it’s powerful because we as the audience are expected to be familiar with the iconography of this scene, the story behind it, and its place in the christian canon.

you can make similar comments about Gentileschi’s Judith vs Caravaggio’s, or Manet’s Olympia vs Ingres’ Grande Odalisque -- all of these paintings exist in relation to one another and also to the larger canon (i’m simplifying: you can’t just compare one to another directly in isolation etc etc.) Gauguin’s Jacob Wrestling the Angel is also especially interesting because of how its portrayal of its content contrasts to its predecessors!

or! because i’m really In It now, one of my favorite paintings in the world, Joan of Arc by Bastien-Lepage:

I just!!! gosh, idk, what’s most interesting to me in this painting is the way it seems to hover between movements: the hyperrealistic, neoclassical-esque take on the figure, but the impressionistic brushstrokes of the background AAA gosh i love it so much. it’s really beautiful if you ever get a chance to see it in person at the Met. i’m putting this here both because i personally just really like it and also as an example of how intertextuality isn’t just about content, but also about visual elements.

anyways, sorry most of this is 19thc, that was what i studied the most lol.

(a final note: if you want to read about a really interesting painting that sits in the midst of just a Lot of different works, check out the wiki page on Géricault’s Raft of the Medusa, specifically under “Interpretation and Legacy”)

this is all a really long-winded way of getting to this point: if you want to make allusory fanart of mdzs with regards to western art canon, you kind of have to go out of your way to avoid christian imagery/iconography, especially when that’s the lens through which a lot of really intensely emotional art was created. many of my favorite paintings are christian: Vrubel’s Demon, Seated, Perov’s Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, Ge’s Conscience, Judas, Bastien-Lepage’s Joan of Arc, as shown above. that’s not to say there ISN’T plenty of non-christian art -- but christian art is very prominent and impossible to ignore.

so here are a few pieces of fanwork that I’ve seen that are very clearly making allusions to christian imagery:

1. this beautiful pietà nielan by tinynarwhals on twitter

2. a lovely jiang yanli as our lady of tears by @satuwilhelmiina

3. my second gif in this set here, which I will also show below:

i’m only going to talk about mine in depth because well, i know exactly what i was thinking when I put this gif together while I can’t speak for anyone else.

first: the two lines of the song that I wanted to use for lan xichen were “baby, I’m a fighter//in the robes of a saint” because i felt that they fit him very well. of course, just the word “saint” evokes catholicism, even if it’s become so entwined in the english language that it’s taken on a secular meaning as well.

second: when I saw this scene, my immediate thought was just “PIETÀ!!” because LOOK at that composition! lan xichen’s lap! nie mingjue lying perpendicular to it! the light blue/white/silver of lan xichen in contrast to the darker robes of both nie mingjue and meng yao! not just that, but the very cool triangular structure of the image is intensely striking, and Yes, i Do love that it simultaneously ALSO evokes deposition of christ vibes. (baxia as the cross.... god..... is that not the Tightest Shit) does this make meng yao joseph of arimathea? does it make him john the evangelist? both options are equally interesting, I think when viewed in relation to his roles in the story: as a spy in qishan and as nmj’s deputy. maybe he’s both.

anyways, did I do this intentionally? yes, though a lot of it is happy accident/discovered after the fact since I’m relying on CQL to have provided the image. i wanted to draw attention to all of that by superimposing that line over that image! (to be clear: I didn’t expect it to all come through because like. that’s ridiculous. the layers you’d have to go through to get from “pretty lxc gifset” --> “if we cast nie mingjue as a christ figure, what is the interesting commentary we could do on meng yao by casting him as either joseph of arimathea or john the evangelist” are like. ok ur gonna need to work a little harder than slapping a song lyric over an image to achieve an effect like that.)

the point of this is: yes, it’s intentionally christian, yes I did this, yes I am casting these very much non-christian characters into christian roles for this specific visual work -- is this okay?

I obviously thought it was because I made it. but would I feel the same about a work that was written doing something similar? probably not. I think that would make me quite uncomfortable in most situations. but there’s something about visual art that makes it slightly different that I have trouble articulating -- something about how the visual often seeks to illustrate parallels or ideas, whereas writing characters as a different religion can fundamentally change who those characters are, the world they inhabit, etc. in a more... invasive?? way. that’s still not quite right, but I genuinely am not sure how to explain what i mean! I hope the general idea comes across. ><

something else to think about is like, what are pieces I find acceptable and why?

what makes the pieces above that reference christian imagery different than this stunning nieyao piece by @cyandemise after klimt’s kiss? (warnings for like, dead bodies and vague body horror) like i ADORE this piece (PLEASE click for fullview it’s worth it for the quality). it’s incredibly beautiful and evocative and very obviously references a piece of european art. I have no problem with it. why? because it isn’t explicitly christian? it’s still deeply entrenched in western canon. klimt certainly made other pieces that were explicit christian references.

another piece I’d like to invite you all to consider is this incredible naruto fanart of sakura and ino beheading sasuke after caravaggio’s judith. (warnings for beheading, blood, etc. you know.) i also adore this piece! i think it’s very good both technically and conceptually. the reference that it makes has a real power when viewed in relation to the roles of the characters in their original story -- seeing the women that sasuke fucked over and treated so disrespectfully collaborating in his demise Says Something. this is also!! an explicitly christian reference made with non-christian japanese characters. is this okay? does it evoke the same discomfort as seeing mdzs characters being drawn with christian iconography? why or why not?

the point is, I don’t think there’s a neat answer, but I do think there are a lot of interesting issues surrounding cultural erasure/hegemony that are raised by this question. i don’t think there are easy resolutions to any of them either, but I think that it’s a good opportunity to reexamine our own discomfort and try and see where it comes from. all emotions are valid but not all are justified etc. so I try to ask, is it fair? do i apply my criticisms and standards equally? why or why not? does it do real harm, or do i just not like it? what makes one work okay and another not?

i’ve felt that there’s a real danger with the kind of like, deep moral scrutiny of recent years in quashing interesting work in the name of fear. this morality tends to be expressed in black and white, good and bad dichotomies that i really do think stymies meaningful conversation and progress. you’ll often see angry takes that boil down to things like, “POC good, queer people good, white people bad, christianity bad” etc. without a serious critical examination of the actual issues at hand. I feel that these are extraordinarily harmful simplifications that can lead to an increased insularity that isn’t necessarily good for anyone. there’s a fine line between asking people to stay in their lane and cultural gatekeeping sometimes, and I think that it’s something we should be mindful of when we’re engaging in conversations about cultural erasure, appropriation etc.

PERHAPS IT IS OBVIOUS that I have no idea where that line falls LMAO since after all that rambling I have given you basically nothing. but! I hope that you found it interesting at least, and that it gives you a bit more material to think on while you figure out where you stand ahaha.

was this just an excuse to show off cool (fan)art i like? maybe ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(ko-fi)

[cosmicsierra]

Springtime - Professor Obi-Wan Kenobi x afab Reader

pairing: professor!obi-wan kenobi x afab!reader

word count: 1.2k :)

warnings: mature!! 18+ professor and student romance, smut? kind of? sexual tension

preview: In reality, Obi-wan wasn’t worried about whether or not his lesson made sense, it was simply a review of the week before. He knew that you were staring at him all class. He knew you had no idea what the lesson was about. He was being bold and shameless, trying to get you to admit what he knew.

notes: pls take this, i couldn’t stop thinking about professor obi and i needed to break and write slight smut to take some thirst out of my obi-wan longfic. slow burns killll me

masterlist

Diligent clicks from students frantically typing echoed off of the vast walls of the university’s tiered lecture room. You closed your eyes and put your elbows up on the desk. Settling your head in your hands, you ran one hand through your hair and sighed quietly. Your keyboard was the only silent one; every other student in the class was typing in an alarmed frenzy.

You, however, could only focus on the professor.

Usually, that would be a normal and productive habit of a university student of your level, but you weren’t focusing on his words, no. It was a warmer spring day. The lecture room class was being held in didn’t have the luxury of air conditioning, so the hot air snuck in through the windows and consumed the room. You, already dressed for spring weather, were in a knee length floral dress with a turtleneck underneath. Not only were you overthinking the turtleneck part now, but also you noticed your Professor must have been overthinking his outfit choice.

Professor Kenobi, always known for being well put together and gracing the room with a well energized presence (except for when he spent the night grading essays), was now brushing locks of strawberry blonde hair from his forehead. He wore a button up shirt with a simple vest and tie, but the sleeves of his button up have been progressively rolled up throughout class. You jiggled your leg.

His arms. Every time he reached toward the whiteboard to write out another big concept or a learning target about god knows what, the rolled up sleeves of his button up revealed a little more muscle. His muscles moved as he pressed into the marker to craft words in a beautiful cursive on the plain whiteboard. You wished you could pay attention to the content in class, but Professor Kenobi was absolutely killing you.

Before you knew it, students were standing from their seats and leaving the humid classroom as soon as they could. Some rushed off to their next class, and others lingered to chat with friends. Quickly snapping back to reality, you folded up your laptop and went to shove it into your bag. Swinging your school back over your shoulder, you stood up and walked down the tiered levels to exit the room, but you were stopped by Professor Kenobi’s voice. He usually conversed with you after class, as you genuinely did care about the content and wrote really well crafted papers for his class. However, you thought that the professor would want to get out of the class quickly, evident of his rolled up sleeves and slightly sweaty forehead.

“You’re just going to head out then? I assume you’re not a fan of this either.” Professor Kenobi chuckled and gestured to the windows.

You smiled. “I like it quite a lot, actually. It’s refreshing.” You pulled at the hem of your dress and fanned it out a bit, to show him that you did indeed enjoy the warmth. His gaze briefly held onto the hem of your dress. You couldn’t tell whether he was admiring the pattern, or if he was admiring you. Blushing, you gently let the dress fall back to normal and instead put your hand on your school bag.

“If you enjoy it so much, how come you are flushed?” Professor Kenobi smirked at you, teasing you. Your mouth dropped a bit. You swore he knew. He had to. There’s no way he hadn’t felt your eyes on his forearm all class. Jeeze, you needed to go and touch some grass. “Anyway, why don’t we head to my office to discuss your most recent paper. You made some pretty big revelations that I’d like to discuss.” His smirk turned into a smile, almost as if he suddenly remembered his role as a professor. You nodded. “It’s also air conditioned in my office,” he spoke, “so you shouldn’t be so flushed once we get in there.”

He turned to the lecture table to grab his own leather book bag. He swung it over his shoulder and it rested nicely on his hip. The strap was worn from so many uses carrying class materials all over campus. Holding the door open for you, he gestured for you to leave the room first. He propped the door open behind himself with a wooden doorstop.

Finding himself catching his gaze on your figure in the dress, he tried to focus on the vast stained glass windows in the hall as you two walked.

He spoke again, purposefully avoiding eye contact, “How was today’s lecture? Do you think the class was engaged? Did you feel engaged?”

Your heart dropped. Here he is asking you about the lecture, and all you paid attention to the whole class was his forearms. Hands starting to feel clammy, you stuttered out, “It seemed like the class was pretty focused. Everyone was taking notes.” You smiled up toward him, trying to hide your nervousness. You knew that being a college professor could be overwhelming, and that when students didn’t engage in class it became exhausting. You hopped he wasn’t falling into a phase of burnout, he was truly a wonderful professor.

He finally caught your gaze, finally stopping in front of his office door and unlocking the door, his eyes on you. “What did you think about the topic of logical fallacies?” In reality, Obi-wan wasn’t worried about whether or not his lesson made sense, it was simply a review of the week before. He knew that you were staring at him all class. He knew you had no idea what the lesson was about. He was being bold and shameless, trying to get you to admit what he knew.

You put your arms behind your back, and he gestured you into his office. It was neat, like always, only the stain from the outline of a coffee mug on his light desk, and a leather bound book, sitting open. You took your normal seat in front of his desk. He shut the door.

With your back to him, you answered, “With all due respect Professor Kenobi-”

“Please, call me Obi-Wan.” He interrupted. He smoothly walked over to his desk and sat in his chair. His elbow propped up on the desk, he leaned into his arm.

You gulped. “Okay, Obi-Wan, I had trouble focusing in class because of the humidity and heat in the room.” You were the one beginning to get sweaty, now.

At your words, a smirk formed on Obi-Wan’s face. Leaning ever so slightly closer, he looked into your eyes. “Is that so? Didn’t you just tell me you enjoyed this weather?” He had you now. Out of all of the teasing and his little quips, this was the first time you were at a loss for words.

Reaching over his desk and taking your chin gently between his first finger and thumb, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Or were you enjoying that the heat was making me so bothered in class?” You swore you had stopped breathing at this point. His hands were soft on your chin. Feeling an all too familiar sensation between your legs, you squeezed your legs together tighter.

“Darling,” his voice dripped like honey, “you don’t need to hide it. I know.” His opposite hand reached underneath the desk and gently laid in your knee. You slowly relaxed the muscles in your thigh.

You’re definitely changing your major to English, now.

[mrstaeminlee]

Mission Complete Ch. 1

You had two goals in life. One: Complete your squad training without dying. Two: Fuck Levi Ackerman

Pairings: Levi/f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, eventual smut, lmk if I need to add anything~

You really had no idea what the fuck prompted you to join the military. Maybe it was to find some redeeming grace in the eyes of your dying mother, maybe it was because you wanted a life with as much stability as one could muster, maybe it was because you just fucking hated farming.

Whatever it was, you wished to any God that would listen that you would have buried it in the ground along with the countless friends and family members you had lost to the Titans.

The first week of the cadet corps was everything you knew you would hate and more. Between the foul smelling breath of the commandant threatening to make you puke up the bread you had managed to steal, to working your body to the point of sneaking away from one on one combat to puke behind the bushes, after seven days you had almost decided that maybe digging in the dirt for the rest of your miserable life wasn't so bad.

There was only one thing stopping you from making your own walk of shame to the wagon of regret.

Levi Ackerman.

AKA the man you fantasized about every night when you managed to find enough strength to finger yourself below the covers.

He was a couple of inches shorter, true, but you were willing to break your rule of not fucking anyone shorter than you for him.

You had only see him twice in your life by complete chance, the first had been when you happened to be by the gates in time to see the Scouts returning from what was undoubtably another failed mission, and you decided that what the hell, might as well have a look at Humanity's Strongest in the flesh. Granted, it hadn't been his best day; his green cloak was splattered with what could only have been the blood of his comrades as it didn't look as if he had a single scratch on him, but he looked like a god, albeit one that had just gotten his ass kicked out of heaven. His eyes seemed to be sunken in, and even from how far away you were you found yourself shivering from the intensity of his dead gaze. You weren't sure what possessed you to lift your hand as he eyes moved through the crowd, looking for whom, you didn't know, or what possessed him to raise those eyes to you, but you found yourself lost in haunted silver as you gave a soft wave. The way he seemed to look straight through you, not even seeing you even as you stared at each other, was enough to convince you that you needed to do whatever it took to see this man again.

You enlisted the start of the next week.

The second time was completely by chance.

Everyone was desperate for military recruits, and desperate times called for desperate calls to important people to make appearances in front of people that were well, not very important.

Erwin Smith, Dot Pixis, Nile Dawk, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe, Rico Brzenska, and even Darius Zackly graced the entrance ceremony of the new Cadets, and you thanked whatever bone in your body made you a teacher's pet because you had a front row seat to the man that had plagued your thoughts every single day in the past week. His appearance was brief and he didn't speak, just stared at the fresh faces, some cocky, some blank, but mostly terrified new recruits, and you could have sworn that you saw a tinge of sadness hidden in the silver, as if he could already foresee the deaths of everyone in front of him. He followed after Erwin immediately after the blond gave his speech about thanking you all for making the decision to serve humanity and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. 'I'm not doing this for humanity, I'm doing this for dick,' you thought as you signed your life away to this shit camp for the next two years.

How one man who was fucking shorter than you managed to convince you to trade the next 728 days, 14 hours, 37 minutes, and 15 seconds of your life for physical and emotional hell was beyond you, and yet here you were, standing proud and slightly hungover from the pre-graduation celebrating you did with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin the night before. They hadn't initially been your first choice in friends, but Armin was nice to you from the start and once you very quickly learned that flirting with Eren in front of Mikasa was not in your best interest, you had decided that they were alright; especially when Eren's Titan form had been revealed. If anyone was going to have to get close enough to keep an eye on Eren, it would be Captain Levi.

The very man you were thinking of walked on the stage along with Nile Dawk, Dot Pixis, and Erwin Smith as the three took turns giving their pitch. You hadn't made the top 10 but were happy for your friends that were, you were content with your place as 13th. In a class of over 500, you still considered it a win, and if your parents were still alive you knew they'd be proud. As the remaining members of the top 10 who had opted to join the elitest MP's went off to talk to Nile and the other scared fucks ran off to sign themselves to the Garrison regiment, you and around a hundred other members stayed where you were and you licked your lips, forcing your heart rate to calm itself. 'Calm down, you can't work your way up to fucking the strongest man in the world if you die of heart attack before-'

"Listen up you little shits."

Oh my God he was speaking you've never heard his voice before it's so fucking-

"Most of you are going to die. Are you prepared for that?"

Ah, so Humanity's Strongest was a sweet talker.

"Erwin is making me come up here and talk, so we're all going to pretend that I'm saying some meaningful bullshit. But here's the truth: If you aren't strong, you will die, and it will be painful. Imagine the thought of seeing your childhood friend's entrails being slurped up like spaghetti by a Titan, while the entire time he's conscious enough to reach his hand out for you, and you are able to do nothing for him because you spent exactly one second hesitating, or you were a moment too late to draw your blades, or react to the threat. If that scares you, then do us all a favor and put down that half assed salute and sell your soul to the Garrison where you'll spend your days fucking the best whores for a discount if you're in uniform and getting drunk on the clock."

After his touching speech you and your now dripping panties decided that you had indeed made the right decision in selling yourself to the Scouts.

One month later

It was moments like these, where you weren't quite trashed but definitely more than tipsy, that you had never been happier to be part of the survey corps. I mean, you were in peak physical shape (you still couldn't believe you had abs. Abs!), you were hot, you were fit, and you knew Sasha Braus, who had managed to steal a few bottles of top shelf liquor from the higher ups.

You were also horny as fuck. It had been over a year since you'd gotten laid, and you were using the dildo you'd bought on your first trip back into town as often as you brushed your teeth (twice a day, you didn't fuck with cavities). You briefly thought about enlisting the help of one of your current drinking buddies but after seeing your choices you decided to leave it to old faithful hidden in your pillowcase. There was Jean, who albeit was pretty hot even with the long face but was so in love with Mikasa it made you want to vomit. Marco, who you were almost one hundred percent sure was gay; Connie, who held the sexual appeal of a pile of horse shit, although he was super nice. Reiner almost looked promising but you knew underneath those stocky muscles was a shitload of emotional baggage you didn't want, and Bertholt was head over heels for Annie of all people. That left Armin and Eren. Eren you already knew was out, while your slut senses told you he'd be a great lay, you weren't quite ready for your life to end at the hands of Mikasa. That left Armin. You tilted your head, staring at him as you sipped on your god forsaken concoction and debated fucking him or not. He wasn't outright sexy, but he'd filled in well during the two years of training and you had seen glimpses of his surprisingly impressive muscles under his white shirt. He might actually do. He'd be shy as hell and you would have to lead everything, not to mention he'd probably cum in less than a minute, but it just might-

“Did you guys know that Captain Levi is a virgin?"

You spit the mix of vodka, rum, and whatever mixer Reiner had put in all over the face of the person you had just considered fucking.

"I'm sorry, what?" You turned your attention to Christa, apologetically handing Armin a napkin and patting his cheek.

Christa blushed at the attention and scooted closer to Ymir, who threw an arm around her shoulders and gave Reiner her customary 'If you even look at her weird, I will gut you' look. "W-Well, recently I started helping out in the infirmary because they've been short handed. You all know, it's that time of year where everyone has to get looked at and they give us that sheet of paper to fill out with all of our personal information to keep track of potential diseases. I was in charge of filing the paperwork the day they brought all of the officers in, and on the paper they ask you how many sexual partners you've had and Captain Levi wrote 0. But you guys, you have to promise not to tell anyone! This is private information, if it somehow gets out that I told you this I'll get into a lot of trouble!"

Ymir chuckled, placing a sloppy kiss at the top of the blonde's head. "Don't worry about a thing sweet cheeks, if any of these miscreants here says a word I'll kill them for ya. But we don't have to worry about that at all, now do we?" She glared at each person in the room, who all looked as if Christa were a ghost, and slowly shook their heads.

Your life was changed.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

The strongest man in the world.

Rumored former thug of the Underground.

The person responsible for killing as many Titans as a hundred soldiers.

The person whose squad every scout dreamed of being on, was a virgin.

You screeched out a laugh before you could help it, the alcohol doing nothing to try and make you quiet yourself as you fell onto your back laughing, cup long forgotten as it rolled across the floor. The person who initiated your drive to join the military in the first place, the person you literally dreamed of fucking, had never gotten his dick wet.

Clearly, you had your work cut out for you.

If you managed to live through the sight of Ymir reaching over to punch you in the face to shut you up.

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part THIRTY

Previous Post Is HERE

This is the last outline post!  But like I said before I’m probably gonna take a run at NaNo with this story this year because of how thoroughly it got out of hand lmao and probably will keep doing smaller art posts and shit at this point.

And again there’s already ideas for a sequel in the works, although that’ll probably trickle in MUCH more slowly for the time being.

Next week I’m probably going to take a break from Tumblr altogether bc of Real Life Stuff and the fact that this project turned So Big.  Maybe.  Possibly.  Don’t take me at my word lmao

This is a text heavy post and I apologize but there was a lot to cover; each section is separated by headers.

Content warning for mention of hanging used as a metaphor.  

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

Astramorus’s Sentencing 

Astramorus is stripped of his rank within Hylia's Church, although he's allowed to keep his home at the sky commune since he and Catena had shared it since before her death and Zelda isn't cruel. She assigns him a Shiekah escort-and-therapist on Impa's recommendation, someone he's not allowed to leave the Sky Temple Commune without until further notice, and Astramorus tells her it's generally much more generous than he expected even considering the help he'd offered.

Link doesn’t go home with him, at Astramorus's insistence.

"Listen to me, Link," he says, touching Link's face gently. "For all that I'd LIKE to undo the last twelve years of our lives, do it better, you're still healing from everything I did wrong."

"Uncle Seren was-" Link starts.

"Giving me the rope with which to hang myself," Astramorus finishes. "I still took it in hand, son. We both need a little distance to start, you to heal and me to sort my own head."

Link frowns at him. "You need to heal too," he says. "You wouldn't have taken that rope if Mama had been here to stop you."

"Probably not," Astramorus agrees. "But that's why her Majesty is assigning someone to follow me around, isn't it?"

[Image Description: Link throws his arms around Astramorus, to his father’s surprise.  When Astramorus hugs him back, looking like he’s ready to collapse into the hug, Link opens one eye and tells him sternly, “Take CARE of yourself, Father, or we’re gonna have WORDS.”  “Mhm,” Astramorus mumbles. End ID.]

(Hilda, it should be noted, tells Astramorus and Link that they’re both welcome to visit Lorule Castle at any time, trying to hide her eagerness until finally admitting; “You both know what having Serenumbra in your head is like.”  And Astramorus and Link agree with that and promise to meet there in a few months, once they’ve had that time to sort themselves out.)

As for Serenumbra, for now Eltani decides to let him “enjoy” some solitude in the Gerudo City prison while she deliberates more thoroughly on what to do with him.  He did quite a lot, after all.

What to do About Ghirahim

Eltani and Zelda Sr discuss what to do about Ghirahim more privately, with Aldway, Impa, and Vaba (Eltani's oldest advisor) there to offer input.

"You say he froze upon being presented with the mere image of his old master," Aldway says. "I'm not sure I trust that."

"It wasn't like-" Zelda starts, then starts over. "He was like a frightened child, darling." She pauses, reevaluates. "Or like a dog expecting to be beaten."

"Like Link?" Aldway asks mildly.

She shakes her head. "Much worse than even that, my dear."

"Even knowing he's half mortal he has trouble stilling his tongue towards me," Eltani notes. "Faced with his former master, he was struck silent."

Vaba speaks up. "You say that Serenumbra called the thing he summoned a god's nightmare, correct?"

"The boy Link saw a figure he couldn't hope to live up to. Your Majesty saw a figure from history you've tried to avoid being since you were her age. Whose nightmare was Demise? Dinravi didn't know his face, and you tell us Ghirahim stepped in the way. Dinravi only faced a copy of Ghirahim's master because he was reflected from Ghirahim's half human heart."

They decide to let him stay.

What Dinravi Would Like to do About Ghirahim

And in the meantime Dinravi and Ghirahim are having their own discussion somewhere else in the castle, partly because Eltani asked Dinravi to keep Ghirahim away from where they're discussing and partly because of course they are, it's been a lot, the last day and a half or so, between Ghirahim saving Dinravi from assassination and Dinravi punching Nightmare Demise in the face. And finding out that Ghirahim is definitely around half human now, there's also that.

There's a bit of an awkward silence, at first. It's so, so much. Ghirahim is stealing a lot of glances and Dinravi seems to be collecting himself.

And then Dinravi asks: "Can I kiss you?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, mouth small in surprise, bright red, and then he smiles a little and looks away and says "You still don't... my prince, you don't need to ask PERMISSION to do whatever you PLEASE with me."

Dinravi goes quiet. "... Is that how it was with him? Demise?" he asks. His face is gentle and open, nonjudgmental, but Ghirahim sputters.

"Of course it was," he says, "is there a problem with that?"

Dinravi studies him. "Apparently there is," he says. "Because you're shaking."

Ghirahim jolts in horror and stares at his hands, which are indeed trembling, almost as badly as at the sight of Nightmare Demise, and he screams: "DAMN this frail useless human body!!"

Dinravi takes a step backwards, watching him, and says, "Ghirahim." And at getting his attention, he asks, "Does this mean that you came to me, tried to seduce me into conquest... Knowing that might mean you, too?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a breath, vulnerable, then looks away, frowning. "Of course I did," he says.

Dinravi sighs. "Of course you did," he echoes.

"I was FORGED for this," Ghirahim says helplessly. "To serve Master Demise, or the one who inherits from Him. Whatever that might mean."

"Ghirahim," Dinravi says gently. "You're almost half human now. I believed in your choice before, when we were thinking you entirely demon, but... Being human means getting to choose."

Ghirahim is adrift and he looks at the floor, the ceiling, out the window, and finally back at Dinravi, trying to find solid ground.

His voice is small. "Please kiss me?" he asks. Dinravi smiles and steps forward, leaning into him, brushing his lips tenderly with his own. Ghirahim whimpers and surges forward, and Dinravi puts his arms around him and steadies his stance, chuckling, soothing him, kisses him again. Ghirahim gasps as his knees buckle and he slides downward, almost ragdoll as Dinravi catches him again.

"Are you okay?!" Dinravi asks, holding him against his chest.

"I'm fine," Ghirahim whispers, hanging on for dear life. "C-can- Can we take this somewhere your MOM won't stumble on us, or worse one of the BRATS running around the castle? I'm about to become very embarrassing if we keep this up." He gives Dinravi a significant stare, face crimson. "Maybe with a bed?"

Dinravi's eyebrows shoot up. ".... Would you like me to carry you?" he finally asks.

"I think you're going to have to," Ghirahim admits.

We're going to give them some privacy. XD

[Image Description: Dinravi is tilting Ghirahim into a kiss, the sun setting through the window behind them.  Ghirahim’s eyes are open but he’s pliant in Dinravi’s arms, one hand curled against his chest.  Dinravi is smiling, eyes closed and his grip gentle but rather thoroughly in control of the situation.  End ID.]

Back At the Sky Commune

Maurice and the other priests/monks at the Sky Temple Commune had some word of what was going on by the time Astramorus returns, and Maurice has more or less been put in charge now, in recognition of his years of service and care of the commune’s day to day.

He’s a bit annoyed at Astramorus about the whole thing, if he’s honest, which he is, but he also does care about his former superior, and once Astramorus has settled back in and the Sheikah escort is being shown around he approaches him in his quarters, finding him by the window thrown open, chin resting in his hand, looking out of place in the kind of civilian clothing Astramorus has barely worn his entire life.

“So what are you going to do with yourself, Astramorus, once the Queen’s man has decided you’ve moped around here enough?” he asks.  Maurice is kind but he’s also gruff.  Birds don’t tend to care about your word choices, and Maurice spends much more time with pigeons and cuccos and loftwings than with people.

Astramorus shrugs, not turning from the view of the blue sky.  “Honestly Maurice, I was raised by Hylia’s Church.  Mayhap I’ll find something else, but.  Well, it was kind of the Queen to let me keep these quarters for more reasons than memory of my wife.”

Maurice bristles his mustache, and then he says, “You know... she stripped your rank.  There’s nothing about your sentence as I read it that says you can’t start over from the beginning.”

Astramorus finally turns to him, and Maurice is struck by how... well, how much happier the other man looks.  He’s lost nearly everything, and yet it’s like a great millstone’s off his neck.  And Astramorus smiles:

[Image Description: “Maybe,” Astramorus says, smiling against his hand.  He looks relaxed and happy, and maybe like he’s considering it seriously.  The sun shines on him gently.  End ID.]

What Now, Link?

And perhaps at the same time, now that he’s said his goodbyes and everything’s settled down, Marla finds Link sitting on a balcony rail of Hyrule Castle, looking out at Castle Town and looking pretty peaceful himself.

She comes up behind him and folds her arms against the rail, smiling up at him.

“So, Link, we finally got your father to listen to you,” she says, and she’s thinking of that conversation at the Shrine of the Furious God when she says it.  “What now?”

Link shrugs.  “I suppose I’ll stay here for a little while,” he says.  He wants to see Gray recovered, and to spend more time with the Royal Family, and it’d be nice, if he’s honest, to rest a while himself.  “The Queen says my mother’s family are probably still running around the continent somewhere, so I might look for them after that.”  Adventuring runs in the family, apparently, because Zelda Sr. only has some idea of where his grandparents have gotten off to, only some idea of where to find his mother’s younger siblings.

“Sounds like a plan,” Marla says.  She looks out at Hyrule Castle Town for a quiet moment, enjoying the sound of Link breathing.

“Do you think,” she says, “That we could take a few weeks to check back at Windfish Isle?  I have this horrible suspicion that the Mayor has filled Tonbo and my house with fishing nets and I’d like to let him know to find someone else to live there before the walls take on a permanent stink.”

We’re staying with you so we should let them know goes unspoken, but Marla has known for a while she’s tying herself to Link for the rest of his life the same way she’s tied herself to Tonbo for the rest of his life, and the world’s a bit wider than it was when she and Tonbo left with Link, and if Link’s going to be in the wide world, Marla and Tonbo should be too.

And Link knows what she means.  Because family means the people you don’t need so much courage around.

He smiles.  “Yeah,” he says.  “We can do that.”

[Image Description: Link and Marla.  Link is sitting on the balcony rail while Marla is leaning on it.  They’re giving one another fond smiles.  The sun shines on them gently, giving the image a slightly faded look.  End ID.]

[tardis-ghost-blog]

Did that feel real to you? (Simm!Master x Reader)

Rating: E For explicit sexual content Summary: The Master and you share a dream. Literally.

-0oOo0oOo0oOo0-

Ever since he had found out that being near you caused the drums to be a tad bit quieter, the Master had hired you as his personal assistant. Most of the time you only had to tidy up on the Valiant now, or make him tea. And in return you allowed him to connect your minds every so often.

At first it had been a strange, almost frightening experience, but after a few times you came to enjoy it. Nothing was happening, you two only sat there, the Master with his hands around your head and sometimes his forehead on yours. And sometimes you just watched his face becoming calmer, peeked at his lips that were so close to yours...

You had quickly found out about the drums and about his origin. You also learned that he could become downright insane if the sound in his head became too loud. And those times frightened you, because you could never be sure what might happen.

So when he came in that day and you spotted his deranged look, you were already about to quickly leave the room. But he grabbed you, tried to drag you back into the room and managed. You still wanted to get away, only help him later, when things had calmed down.

But the Master caught you again, pushed against your shoulders, making you drop backwards, where your knee pits hit against something. You got out of balance, fell over the sofa rest and onto the soft fabric. The Master rushed to you, his eyes were dark, clouded by madness. Hastily you got to your elbows and crawled backwards a bit, but he was already at your side, knelt in front of the sofa to grab your head within in hands.

"Make it quiet," he demanded and brushed his mind against yours, not waiting for your barriers to loosen, but simply tearing them down.

You couldn't hold back a sob as you felt his energy surging through your head. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, but one that made you feel so horribly vulnerable. And it drained you like nothing you had ever experienced before. The few times you had shared minds hadn't been that intense, not that forceful. Not so desperate.

Tiredness overcame you, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. A silent battle, you lying stretched out on that sofa, him kneeling next to you, shivering as if it were ice cold in the room. The image faded, slipped away into a black void.

"'M sorry," you heard the Master whisper, his voice strangely clear and free of the previous madness. "I need this. Just for a while."

Him apologizing... that was a first. But you no longer felt drained, only wanted to sit there for another while with closed eyes.

"You could have just asked," you mumbled back and felt weirdly... light.

Why were you sitting anyway? Just now you had been lying on your back. When your eyes opened, you found yourself suddenly in a completely different place. Perplex you looked around the silent forest, dense green spread all around you, soft grass grew under your fingers. The Master sat next to you, hands clawed into his hair. Some moments later he relaxed, threw his head back to sigh out a painful breath.

"Master?" you asked. "What... is this? Where are we?"

He looked back and opened his lids, blinking tiredly at you, then your surroundings. His eyes widened in mild surprise. "Huh? Mhm... right. Seems like I... slipped into your dreams."

"My... hey!" you protested and slapped his arm. "Those are private, you jerk!"

It appeared he was feeling a lot better now, according to the mischievous chuckle he answered with. "Och, don't whine. You might be the first human to have this experience." Cheekily he stuck out his tongue and got to his feet. "Although... I'm not entirely sure in whose head we are. Probably a bit of both."

You grunted annoyed and got up too. "Then wake me up again."

The Master turned, grinned.

"Nope!"

He let out a childish laugh and jumped from a stone, striding deeper into the forest.

"Hey! That's not fair!" you shouted after him. "First you overpower me like that and then you keep trampling over my private stuff."

"Mine too, just for your information."

"Okay, whatever." You crossed your arms as you halted near a clearing. It actually looked really nice. The vibrant green, the small creek that ran through the grass. "Wait... if this is a dream and we are aware of it... does that mean we can manipulate it?"

"Mhm..." The Master tilted his head a little. "Usually yes. But since we share it..." His eyes closed for a moment and the scenery changed. Trees vanished into dust, grass melted into the ground and suddenly you stood within the overgrown ruins of what once might have been an advanced civilisation. "Okay, that works..."

The scenery was quite beautiful in its melancholic state of long gone destruction. But right now you were not in the mood for something like that.

"Let me try!" you inquired and also closed your eyes. "Where could we go?" You thought for a moment, but your subconsciousness seemed to have picked up on your wish a lot faster than you. The smell of salt and water caressed your nose, a soft wind made goose bumps form on your forearms.

"The sea?" The Master asked, a smile audible in his voice. "Always a good choice. Bit boring, though."

A smile widened on your face as you took in the surroundings. It wasn't a place you knew, more like a collection of images, or rather the idea of sea that lived in your mind. There wasn't that much sand, more rocks, actually. You loved to climb around and be sprayed by the hitting waves.

And the weather was amazing! Perfect temperatures. Not too hot, not cold, either. Your ire was forgotten in an instant and you didn't even mind the Master following you as you explored the shore for a bit, picked up some seashells to admire how real they looked - and felt. As did everything else; the water, the wind, the sun.

You sighed happily and pointed at a round pool that had been formed between the rocks, too perfect of a spot not to investigate further.

"Let's go for a swim there, shall we?" you asked, beaming over your face. "Everything feels so real! I bet the water is amazing."

"Probably." The Master laughed and you joined in, happy to see how relaxed he was now. Here, the drums didn't seem to bother him and you had learned before that he could actually be quite the nice company in moments like these.

"But wait... I need some proper clothes." Again your eyes closed and you imagined the most comfy bikini you could think of. Nothing too revealing.

And still you suddenly felt eyes on you, wandering over your form. When you turned you found the Master not only staring at you with a subtle smile, but also now wearing only swimming trunks. Black, of course.

"Like what you see?" he wanted to know, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You snorted out a laugh and pointed down into the round basin. "I might be impressed if you jump down from here."

"Here?" The Master didn't seem impressed as he glanced down. The pool was maybe three or four meters below you. "That's not even a challenge," he mocked and promptly jumped.

Surprised you squeaked, your mind running a million scenarios at once how he might smash his head on a rock or maybe... No. This was still a dream. Immediately you relaxed and giggled to yourself. Nothing could happen to you here. So you did the only logical thing and jumped down too.

Air rushed around you, followed by the cool grip of water. You resurfaced with a happy laugh and swam around a bit until you found the Master again. He stood nearby, the water reaching only his waist. Behind him was wet rock that he leaned against with folded arms and still this calmly, satisfied expression on his features.

"Nice idea," he complimented. "Haven't been to any sea since... a long time ago."

It was seldom that he spoke about the past and you weren't going to ruin the moment by digging deeper. Instead your eyes wandered over his form, curious if you would find anything that set him apart from humans. This was the first time you saw him with so little clothes after all, his skin glittering with water drops, hair dripping.

"You look completely human, you know that?" you mocked and trod in front of him. "I had almost awaited you'd have... I don't know... scales maybe?"

A grin split his mouth and he let out a laugh. "Maybe I do and just altered my appearance in the dream?" He poked out the tongue between his teeth.

"Nah, I don't think so." You chuckled and couldn't resist running a finger over his forearm, feeling the skin and muscles.

He let you, simply watched as you trailed up and halted, raising your hand right over his chest, before gently placing it over the spot between his hearts. It was just a dream after all, no harm done in exploring a little.

When you looked up, the Master hadn't moved, but the black in his eyes had widened, was fixated on your face.

"Everything feels so real," you finally stated, your voice weirdly thick. A nervous laugh escaped you. "Strange to think this is only a dream."

He huffed. "You never had a dream before that was so real you had trouble distinguishing it from reality after waking up?"

"Yeah, but... it's different being conscious in it." You ran your hand through the water in front of you, almost so close to the Master that it brushed against him. "I wonder," you mumbled, thinking about just how close you stood together. "if everything feels so real."

The warmth pooling into your belly definitely did. And the heat you felt shooting right to your core when the Master suddenly grabbed your hip with both hands also did. His thumbs stroked along your sides, his eyes darkening a little more. Your gaze wandered down, wanting to break through the crinkled surface of the water to look between the two of you. Curiosity.

His hands left your hip and instead were on your arms, slowly caressing your skin until they reached your fingers. You let out a sigh, happy about the cool water so he wouldn't see you flush. Or did you anyway?

"That feels real too, doesn't it?" the Master murmured, almost absently. His hands left you and he used them to heave himself on a flat piece of stone nearby, his lower half still hidden under the water's surface. "Enjoy the water." The smile was back. "We're actually not in a hurry."

"Won't we wake up anytime soon?" you wondered, boldly stepping closer to him.

"Not if we don't want to." A mischievous twinkle was in his hazel eyes, the boyish smirk arousing you more than it should.

Shit. You shouldn't be aroused at all. He was still holding your entire planet captive. And no matter how nice he sometimes was to you, he still could be mad and dangerous and... You felt eyes on you again and only then realized your hand was again playing with the water between the two of you. When had you stepped so close? His knees were barely a finger width away from your belly. And your hand... Would this feel so real, too?

"I didn't even know you Time Lords can share dreams."

You stepped even closer, right between his legs, your skin touching the stone on which the Master sat. His head slightly tilted backwards, but his now clearly dilated pupils kept staring at you as if he was just waiting.

"Now you know," he said. "It's a nice thing. You can do whatever you want. Experiments, just having… fun."

"And no real consequences," you finished the thought. For a moment your eyes locked with the Master's.

His lips twitched slightly. It seemed he was perfectly aware of what you contemplated doing. So you did, dipped your hand below the water and let your fingers brush over cloth and the obvious bulge in it.

The mere fact shot another wave of arousal straight between your legs. Another, bolder movement along his erection didn't help either and when you sheepishly glanced up the Master had his eyes half closed, his breath hitching when, instead of your fingers, you let your palm run over his length.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest all of a sudden and he leaned forward, catching your hand. "You've always been staring at me. You want me so badly, little one?" Was there really a hint of threat in his voice?

"Experimenting." The corner of your mouth twitched upwards. "It's only a dream, innit?" Your free hand crept forward, wrapped itself around his dick through the trunks.

His eyes rolled backwards the tiniest bit, his head dropping against yours as a grin blossomed on his lips. "Didn't know you were dreaming about me," he teased, breath shuddering delightfully when you started to slowly stroke him.

God, you wanted to feel him without those trunks, suddenly yearned to let your fingers wander over every inch of him, teasing, fondling, feeling every vein, every ridge. "Right now I do," you said breathy. "Don't worry, 'm pretty sure this is the first time."

Again he shuddered, hot breath ghosting over your lips. Then, with a swift movement that took you completely off guard, he grabbed your sites again and dragged you upwards, right into his lap with a loud splash. Both of you were hidden below the surface still, the water on your skin shimmering in the sun. A moan escaped your lips when your clit rubbed against his length, the wet cloth only adding to the friction.

Before you could even form a thought his lips crashed onto yours, one hand on the back of your head, the other slipping into your bikini pants. When you wanted to do the same to him, however, the hand vanished, grabbed your thigh and dragged you so flush against him that you had no chance to get anywhere near him. His lips were soft and warm, coaxing another moan from yours right as his fingers slipped back under your cloth and brushed against your swollen clit. Another finger slid down below your folds, teased the entrance for maybe a second too long.

You squirmed from your own need, opened your mouth and deepened the kiss, tongues stroking sensually against one another. His fingers finally pressed into you. The Master swallowed another moan, moved back and forth inside your heat, added a second finger and kept his thumb on your clit.

All of your senses were overblown with need and want and the smell of his skin, the taste of his tongue. You couldn't help but rock against his hand and also his erection in the same movement. He groaned, tried to keep you from moving while his fingers pumped in and out of you.

Somehow, though, you managed to slide back enough to fit your own hand between the two of you and promptly use the opportunity. Teasing fingers moved to the waistband of his trunks, slipped inside when there was no protest. Your hand wrapped around his dick firmly and finally you could do to him what he did to you. And he felt great in your hand, sliding up and down your palm, your thump teasing the slit and the sensitive area below. Even through the water you could feel a drop of precum, imagined how it dissolved in.

A low growl of pleasure rumbled through his heaving chest, his second hand vanished from your head, his mouth retreating. You wanted to look, wanted to see what you did to him. Damp hair clung to the Master's forehead, a perfect match for the glimmering sheen of sweat and salt water on his skin.

Again you firmly stroked up his length, hyper aware of his shuddering breath and jittering eyes. His free hand was between your breasts, the bikini simply gone. Carefully he pushed against your torso, bending you backwards a little, so you would have less opportunity to move on him.

His sight, the position, the thumb massaging your clit in firm circles, the fingers pumping in and out, hitting at all the right spots inside of you, it made you want to move again, made you desperate to find out whether or not you could really climax in a dream.

But the fingers vanished. You whimpered when you realized he wasn't going to continue. With both hands he grabbed your head and kissed your wet lips, fierce and hungry and groaning into your mouth when you boldly continued to stroke him.

Seconds later the Master broke the kiss, panted. "That real enough for you?"

All you could do was to swallow and nod with gleaming eyes. His mouth hovered over yours, hot breath ghosting your lips, his eyes fluttering shut. But there was also a blossoming grin and suddenly you realized that you were both completely naked now.

Right in that moment he grabbed your bum, lifted you up from him and sat you on the stone while he slid down from it. You wanted to protest, wanted to grab his arm, but he didn't vanish, as you had feared. Instead the Master positioned himself between your legs, grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to him on the wet stone so his dick could stroke through your folds and rest at your throbbing entrance.

If there hadn't been water you would have laid on your back, but now you kept yourself upright on your elbows, watching, enjoying how the Master teased your entrance. His eyes sought out yours. "You're ready?"

"Are you kidding me?" you moaned, too far gone for any modesty.

The Master chuckled, leaned forward, snaked an arm around your middle and pulled you up for another kiss, the head of his shaft still at your entrance, almost slipping inside when you moved slightly. But he wouldn't let you, held you in place and grinned against your lips at your desperation. The height of the stone aligned you perfectly and again you shifted your bottom, felt him slip into you the tiniest bit, already enough to spike the pleasure, the anticipation.

"Make me," he ground out, breathing heavily, almost restrained.

You let out a moan, tried to push yourself closer and him deeper. The Master gasped, pressed you against him for a mere second, but pulled out of you again, his look as desperate as you felt, breath quivering.

And you knew what he wanted, your brain still somewhat functioning, maybe more than his, in this very moment. Despite his own urge for control he slightly rocked forward, silently groaned when your centre swallowed the tip of his dick again. You could feel how much he had to hold back, how he still couldn't help but let himself sink in just a bit deeper, fingernails lightly scratching your back.

"Master," you moaned and felt him twitch against your folds. He wanted to be in control. He needed you to fully give it to him. "Master," you almost whimpered and he slid even deeper, not yet there, but also not horribly far away.

He carefully pulled out again, not all the way, only a little. "Beg me," he ground out. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you." You swallowed a groan when you felt him slightly move again, wondered how long you both could continue this without bursting. You had no intention to find out, leaned closer to his ear, muttering, "I want you to fuck me, Master."

And that was enough. He gripped your hip with both hands, pressed you flush against him, his length finally slipping inside. Both of you let out moans and for a short moment the Master stopped, his breath heavy and somewhat shaky. One hand dropped to your bum, his lips crashed on yours again and he moved, made you moan into his mouth when he pulled back out, only to slam back inside. He repeated it a few more times, building a rhythm that was both desperate and controlled.

You were barely aware of the water around you, of the sun and the wind. All you felt and wanted to feel was the Master moving in and out of you. You cried out when he hit an especially sensitive spot and he tilted you slightly backwards to get a better angle, the kiss getting sloppy as his pace sped up, stopped completely after a moment, both of you lost in the building pleasure. You let out a small groan each time he hit that spot inside of you. His hand slipped down your front, thumb circling firmly on your clit, adding to the tightening coil.

"Master, please," you groaned.

And he sped up his pace, kept his thumb moving. You sensed how close he was, felt that spot again, and again and you cried out, clenched and panted as the climax rushed through your body and set every nerve within it on fire. Your nails dug into his skin, you walls clenching around his slowing dick and with shuddering breaths you moaned out the orgasm, could feel its aftershocks ripple through you each time the Master thrust himself deeper. He was still slowing, still aware of your oversensitive state, but unable to stop himself, and you encouraged his action by rocking against him, another aftershock making you shiver when you felt him hit you deep inside.

It felt just too good, you wanted him to snap, started to speed up your own rhythm until he dug his fingers into your sites and almost stilled, suddenly capturing your lips, but only to make you swallow his groans while he pulsated and spilled himself inside of you.

The sound of wind and waves returned to your ears as the Master released your lips. Breath still calming, heart still racing. The Master pulled out of you, turned and hopped onto the stone next to you.

The scenery changed, but only slightly. Suddenly you lay next to each other on dry ground, flat stones, heated by the sun, your feet splashed by nearby waves once in a while. Both of you wore clothes again, light summer trunks and shirts.

You sighed content, still feeling your body calming.

"Okay,that felt real," you muttered with a smile. "I wonder what happened to our bodies."

"Sleeping." The Master answered.

"No shit." You laughed and slapped his arm playfully. "I mean, uh… you know."

He chuckled and looked at you, head resting on folded arms. "You might wake up a bit aroused," he teased. "But that's it. Nothing new while being around me."

A wink was cast in your direction, made you laugh. "Don't get high on it. When we wake up, first thing I'll do is slap you for being such a prick before."

His face darkened in an instant, eyes darting away almost as if… he felt guilty? Probably not.

"Is it quiet now?" you asked softly and his gaze returned.

"It never is. Not fully." He smiled and the expression was warm. "But it's so much more bearable with you around."

"I'll still slap you." You poked the tongue out. "And maybe laugh at you for having a morning boner."

The Master grinned and turned around to lay his head right next to your ear. "Dangerous idea."

"Oh?" You turned too, facing him. "Why would that be?"

Instead of an answer he snaked an arm around you and pulled you flush against him. Definitely no need to wake up, here, you realized. The wolfish grin on his face also didn't help. Neither did, that he grabbed you with both hands to turn you both and in a way that you ended up sitting on him.

Alright. You grinned back. No waking up yet, then.

[atsukashii]

Hi, lols! Can I please get Onyx (she/her pronouns) with Kuroo and ☀️ with the color purple? Thank you! (It's okay if the drabble is reader insert. I mostly want my name in the album edit part. Lol)

love is nothing stronger 

than a boy with love

✘ just how long were you planning on keeping the fact that the guy playing on your college volleyball team and your classmate kuroo tetsuro was the love of your life? as long as it took for him to reciprocate it.

✘ GENRE: fluff

✘ WARNINGS: chaotic kuroo

✘ WORDCOUNT 1.1k

✘ A/N: I got your message about changing your colour to red btw!

You were a hot mess - no. You still are a hot mess.

Or at least that’s what the tall, raven haired and ridiculously hot guy had said to you when you had accidentally split the contents of your entire backpack on the floor of your first business management lecture of the semester.

You had scrambled to put the items back in your bag when another set of hands had emerged in front of your eyes and began to help you. Slender fingers, marked with small scratches and abrasions met your gaze, and as they neatly stacked your notebooks into a small pile, your eyes drifted. Past the toned forearms, to biceps on display due to his plain black tee shirt, you finally managed to look at his face. Hazel eyes had enraptured your gaze, keeping them stuck there, only to be broken with a deep voice and a teasing smile.

“You’re a hot mess, aren’t you?”

In your defence, no one had ever said that to you in your life, so your response of a cherry red flush billowing in your cheeks and your inability to speak even the simplest of words - was valid.

However the fact that you still struggled to speak a single word to the middle blocker volleyball player, that was not as valid.

It’s not like you didn’t try, seeing as Kuroo made it his mission to talk to you almost every day, emerging out of what seemed like thin air to sit next to you in class and become a constant part of your day. But his most frequent haunt was the college’s indoor volleyball court, a place you now tried to avoid in the hopes to make yourself less tongue tied. However, today, you don’t have a choice but to go in.

Kuroo’s phone is clenched tightly in your hand, and you try not to focus on the fact that your hands are beginning to sweat at the thought of what you are about to do.

Just talk to him. That’s all you have to do.

“I can do this,” you hiss under your breath, but don’t make a move towards the open doorway. Just glancing at it forces a lump of nerves into your throat threatening to block your airway and cementing your feet to the ground. What do you even say? Hey Kuroo, sorry to interrupt your practice but you left your phone on your chair in class and I grabbed it… Why did I grab it? God what if he thinks I stole it and then thinks I'm a massive crazy stalker or something-

“If you stalked me, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Four thoughts enter your head in rapid succession. First, the realisation you had been talking out loud, followed by the conclusion that someone had heard you. And that person was the guy you were trying to hype yourself up into approaching. Slowly, you spin on your heels, craning your neck up to look at the raven haired boy, and your lungs cease.

Your final thought: you’re fucked.

After opening and closing your mouth too many times to not be awkward, you quickly shove the phone in your hands towards him. Not realising he is so close, you practically punch him in the chest with his phone. Oh my god, kill me now.

Kuroo smiles down at you, gently grabbing your hand and the phone inside it.

“Thanks for that, I was wondering when you were going to return it.” For the second time in less than a minute your brain goes blank as you try to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Please tell me he doesn’t think I'm a stalker…

“I didn’t steal it!” You blurt out, not knowing where his head is at, but not wanting his train of thought to go down that road. Loud laughter meets your ears, and you watch as Kuroo tilts his head back and laughs. The movement forcing you to move forward as he leans backwards and suddenly you find yourself closer to this guy than you’ve ever been before.

When he calms down and looks at you again, your heart thumbs loudly in your chest at his face. He is grinning at you, and not just a polite smile, but an ecstatic one. “I know you didn’t steal it, because I left it there. On purpose.” He teases, finally slipping the phone out of your hand, and letting it fall back to your side.

“On purpose…” You repeat back with furrowed brows. He simply shrugs and slips it into the pocket of his gym shorts as your eyes train on his hands. Only when you look at his face again do you ask, “Why?”

Running a hand through his black hair, something you have never seen him do, you start to wonder if he’s nervous. “Because I wanted to talk to you outside the classroom.”

“Why?” You ask again and he has the nerve to roll his eyes.

“Because I like you?” He states expressionlessly as if his world isn’t rocked by this information, unlike yours, which he just dropped a nuclear bomb on. He likes you? Red covers your cheeks and you don’t know what to do other than stare at him. Since when?

“Since you spilled your books all over the floor of our classroom months ago. I wasn’t exactly subtle about it.” he laughs, yeah he’s definitely nervous. Your brain skips through every single interaction you can remember with him and… had you been so stuck in your own head and on your own pining that you hadn’t noticed the extra time he would spend opening and closing doors to your class for you? Where some days he would be waiting outside the auditorium with two cups of coffee? Or how he was always the first one to lean over his laptop and explain something if you hadn’t been typing for a while. Surely you weren’t that oblivious… right?

“I thought you were just being nice!” You cry out in exasperation, covering your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment. Oh god, you’re an idiot.

“I was being nice,” Comes his deep laugh once more, and suddenly there's warmth on your hands. Opening your eyes, only to see Kuroo’s hazel gaze right in front of you, his face so close you can almost feel his breathing.

“Can I take you out to the café on campus as a date now?” You groan at the memory of him previously taking you there, where you thought it had just been a study thing. Gently you whack him on the arm in protest to his teasing, and he feigns a wince that has you smiling.

“Please? I’ll beg.” He smirks and you quickly shake your head.

“You’re trouble Kuroo Tetsurou.” He slips his hand into yours pulling you closer until you’re flush against his tall frame to the point where you actually worry he can feel your erratic heartbeat. Leaning down, if you hadn’t been so close you may have missed it. The gentle touch of his lips brushing across your forehead in such a sweet move, your heart almost combusts in your chest. Glancing up at him, Kuroo leans back just a bit so that he can smile down at you, and you know a similar one is spread across your own face.

“I’m glad you finally noticed.”

a/n: i really really loved writing this one so I hope you love it as much as I loved writing chaotic Kuroo Onyx. Much much much love for you my friend!

✘ EVENT STATUS : CLOSED  ✘

[giorno-plays-piano]

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Dabi x villain!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, non-con, stalking, mentions of human experimentation, non-consensual drug use, lots of swearing.

Words: 1841.

Summary: Running away from the lab where you had been experimented on for years, you have no choice but to join the League of Villains to escape from the government. Of course, you don’t expect things to go smoothly, especially when one mutilated son of a bitch just can’t leave you alone.

P.S. I’ve suddenly remembered Rogue who had been my favorite character once; the heroine’s Quirk is partly based on her ability.

My dear @navegandoaciegas​, this is my first attempt at writing Dabi. Hope you’re going to enjoy reading it ❤

_________________

"Fuck, how much can you drink at once, birdie? Ain't you scared to pass out in a place full of men?"

Oh God, it was that smug bastard again. For the past couple of days Dabi couldn't get off your back for a full damn minute.

"Men? Here?" You opened your eyes and raised an eyebrow at the man whose face was right above yours as he leaned on the back of the couch where you laid. "I see just a couple of kids and one burnt corpse who can never fucking shut up."

"Oh? Wanna see how well can a burnt corpse fuck you up?"

Always up to a challenge. You rolled your eyes at his obvious display of hostility despite the fact he'd most definitely lose against you. Besides, Shigaraki would barely enjoy you two ruining the League's hideout, and upsetting that asshole ready to go berserk any moment certainly wasn't one of your priorities.

"Just go fuck yourself, would you? I'm not in the mood to bark at you."

"Well, then don't. I didn’t come here for that, actually."

This was something new. He suddenly became calm as you studied his grotesque mutilated face inches away from yours. Your expression didn’t betray any emotions either since you weren't shocked or disgusted by the way Dabi looked: you've seen worse in the laboratory, and repulsive things had long stopped looking repulsive to you.

"What are you here for, then?" You asked him, trying to remember if you finished that second bottle of sake or not. Since the time you accidentally got one of those useless Quirks, you couldn't get drunk anymore - now strong alcohol only made you sleepy.

"I've always wanted to ask why the fuck are you wearing these." Dabi pointed out to the black leather gloves laying on the coffee table in front of you, and you rolled your eyes again. One more useless question.

"In this team of no-brainers you're the last person I expected to ask me this question." Groaning, you moved up a little to take more comfortable position and stared at the man above you intensely.

"Don't you want to gather as many Quirks as possible? If so, why wearing gloves when you can only get a Quirk through touch?"

You were close to snapping at him, and it certainly made Dabi look even more smug.

"Who the fuck do you think I am, a garbage bin?" You barked wishing you could teleport the bastard somewhere to Hawaii. "I only take Quirks I need, and it isn't easy to find those in that damp of useless abilities regular citizens have. Besides, some Quirks are quite dangerous for their owners and I'd prefer them not existing at all. You, of all people, should already get that, Pretty Face."

He smiled at you, but you saw his hollow eyes sparkling dangerously at your last remark, and you felt his body emanating heat he could turn into his famous blue flames within a second. Nasty shit, that what's you thought of his Quirk. Who on Earth would want anything like that? You doubted anyone but a true psychopath could really appreciate something as fucked up as Dabi's ability to burn anything and anyone, himself including. You definitely didn't want to use his Quirk despite already taking it as almost all of those belonging to the League of Villains. It wasn't intentional, though.

"You'd better start watching your mouth, birdie. You ain't back in the lab." His smile grew wider as he saw your expression darkening at the mention of the lab.

Fucking son of a bitch. You bet he'd go insane during the first month being locked up there.

"Huh, calm down, dear. I think it's better we get along."

You sent him a glare wishing you could throw his overconfident ass out of the window. Dabi loved messing with fucking everyone, Shigaraki included, but he was still a valuable member of the team. Killing him would do you no good.

Showing him your middle finger, you put your head on the pillow and took the half-empty bottle of sake. Thank goodness you didn't finish it. You hoped Dabi would vanish by the time you were done.

You spent a few minutes in complete silence as the man kept leaning on the couch and watching you drinking while you did your best trying to relax. Why the Hell was Dabi stuck here with you? Didn't he have any other things he should be doing now? Was he here to get under your skin even more? Shit, you just wanted to be left alone. You wanted it since the time they brought you to the lab, but since then somebody had always been getting on your nerves one way or the other.

"Seriously, what do you want from me?" You grunted as you opened your eyes again and stared at Dabi's face. "You wanna take the couch or what? I ran out of sake if you're here for it."

There was that smug smile again. Saints, the guy had been creeping you out with his long intense stares for quite some time, but today he was even less bearable than usual. He definitely wanted something from you, and the feeling was making you uneasy.

"You wanna hook up, birdie?"

You thought you were gonna choke on air when you heard him saying that. What? Seriously? Did he hurt his head so bad last time heroes attacked? So, that was the meaning of those stares, then? He thought you were the one he could stick his dick in. Wincing from the thought like from a toothache, you squeezed your eyes shut. The guy was clearly mad.

"Are you out of your mind? Why would I want to hook up with anyone?" You huffed with irritation and realized Dabi was having way more fun than you.

"Don't tell me you're actually a virgin."

"You think I can be a virgin with the life I'm having?" You sounded more bitter than you thought you would, and the man above you chuckled. He was getting on your nerves more and more with each passing second.

"Then why not? Sex is a good way to relax. You certainly seem like you could let off some steam." You flinched when Dabi extended his hand to you, but he had only brushed of a lock of your hair out of your face. "I bet I can help you with that better than most of the team."

"Sex is painful, and I don't like pain. Go have fun with Toga, she seems more into that than me." You narrowed your eyes at him, your hand almost touching his neck if the villain decided he'd go further without your consent. His stupid grin going wider was making you more and more mad.

Of course, he wouldn't go to Himiko. That asshole had his own type, and she certainly didn't fall into that category. Why did you? You had no idea, but you doubted he would ever lay his hands on you. Yeah, you knew what sex was, and it had nothing to do with pleasure like in those stupid romantic novels you once bought. It was humiliating and painful. If you had a chance to get back to those who did it to you back in the lab, you'd rip their hearts out of their rib cages.

The expression on your face didn't seem to faze Dabi even the slightest bit, and you rolled your eyes in irritation. Apparently, he wouldn't give up unless you showed him you weren't some doll he could play with, and Shigaraki was probably going to get real mad at the both of you this evening.

All of a sudden you felt some strange tickling in your muscles you had never felt before. What was that? Confused, you quickly glanced over the room to see no one except Dabi still on his spot. What was that? Was it some hero's work? Had they found your hideout? No, it couldn’t be. You'd hear them, feel them before somebody even set their foot on your territory. It wasn't a hero.

Unwilling to wait for any surprises to happen, you used a regeneration Quirk, the one you were gifted on your 14th birthday so you could heal yourself after they ran the tests without troubling a healer too much. Strangely, the Quirk did nothing about the tickling, and you felt your legs getting weaker. What the fuck was that?

As you raised your head to ask Dabi for help, you suddenly realized he was eager to see what you were doing. He looked like he enjoyed watching you in such state, confused and even frightened, your knees slightly trembling as if you became weak within a couple of seconds.

It was him. He did something to you. The bastard had the nerve to do something to your body so it'd be easier to handle you.

"What have you done?" You hissed at him while he chuckled, pointing at the bottles of sake on the table. "Have you poisoned my drink?"

But the regeneration would work in that case. You knew for sure.

Running his finger around the shell of your ear, Dabi hummed with content, "Poisoned? Come on, who do you think I am, an Evil Queen? That's just a little handy potion that has a tendency to slowly accumulate in your body. Makes you a little softer, don't you think?"

Oh. Oh. That's why he was always watching you. He had no idea when the effects would start to show. Did he fucking realize it could happen in the heat of the battle when you needed your Quirks the most? Did Dabi have any idea what would happen if heroes managed to lock you away again?

"Seems like you planned to abandon me if heroes attacked, didn't you?" You gritted your teeth when Dabi got on top of you, his hands on your chest as he caressed your body like a lover would, his hot fingers getting under your clothes.

"Of course not. I'd play your personal hero and save your stubborn ass the trouble of murdering everyone."

While you desperately wanted to kick him off you came to realization you weren't able to even stand up, your arms and legs so weak you could barely move while Dabi had no problems stripping you out of your clothes, his hands on the your thighs as he took off your pants.

Shit, shit, shit. You couldn’t use any Quirks to hurt him, all of them barely responding to your call. What was that potion? Why nobody in the lab prepared you for this? How on Earth did that shithead obtain such a dangerous thing?

"If you hurt me, I'll rip your brain out of your skull and bring it to Shigaraki as a present."

His chapped, disfigured lips brushed against your neck almost gently when the man murmured, "It doesn't have to be painful, birdie. I'll show you how much fun we can have together."

___________________

Tags: @coolio-love @awesomerextyphoon​

[starshipsofstarlord]

Blood Bags | Damon Salvatore

A handsome stranger approached you, with a charming smile that showed his perfect white teeth.

You wished to sink your teeth into his neck, but were pulled away before either you could do so or the man could reach you.

The drool had tumbled down to your chin, so you brushed it away with one hand whilst your other was dragged out of the mystic grill and onto the street.

"That was my dinner." You grumbled snatching your arm back from the imposter.

"That was stupid." Damon counteracted. His eyebrows raised as he studied your dead glare. "For starters, you hadn't compelled anyone in that bar. And I'm sure if you lost control, Matt would have staked you then and there."

Rolling your (Y/E/C) eyes, you crossed your arms. At his relaxation towards you, you attempted to speed back into the bar, but he was quicker for he was older.

"Fine, you can find me dinner then." You told the vampire. For a moment, you wished Damon was human, so that you could drain him.

"You weren't this annoying when you were human." The man complained, wishing you hadn't been turned.

"Blame your brother. He went all ripper, it's not my fault." You sulked. "Can we hurry? I'm starving."

Now it was Damon's turn to roll his eyes. If Stefan hadn't reverted back to his old ways and turned you into a monster, he would find you much more bearable.

He walked, and you followed behind him like a lost puppy. His car was on the pavement and you quickly let yourself in.

"Who are we gonna drink?" You asked excitedly. Damn heightened emotions.

Putting the keys into the ignition, Damon began driving away from the centre of town, keeping an eerie eye on your unpredictable form.

"You aren't going to be feeding from anyone." He pointed an accusing finger at you, which you smacked out of your face. "At least not until you can control yourself."

"I can control myself." You were beginning to get defensive. "Don't you remember when I saved your ass from that hunter? I kicked his ass, and I was human then."

"You're not anymore." It saddened him. Like when he was human, you didn't have a choice in the matter. You had been changed against your will leaving you with no human rights. "Just hold onto the humanity that you have left."

From experience, Damon knew how it felt when losing your humanity felt. It was one big relief, a way to clean the slate in your mind. However when it came to returning to a sane state of mind, it was the worst pain anyone could ever feel.

It was practically torture. Reminding you of all the mistakes that you had made when you had been under no obligation to care.

Stefan had lacked the control of humanity when he decided to force feed you his blood and then snap your neck. And now he was pained by the trouble he had caused. He tried avoiding looking at you as all he saw was one big mistake.

The car stopped, pulling up outside of the boarding house. You were quick to speed out of his car and into his home, he was quick on your heels, pinning you against the wall with his arm under your throat.

“\Let go of me.” You growled at Damon, letting veins roll out from beneath your eyes. But he didn’t comply with your order, instead he leant his face closer to your own

“Behave.” He snarled in your face, giving you an icy glare. “Bonnie and Elena are here and you are not going to try and eat them.”

“I learn from my own mistakes, not yours.” You told him, pushing his body away and walking into the living space where the girls were sitting, along with Stefan who grew uncomfortable from your presence. 

“Hi girls.” You sat down next to them, smiling wide and inhaling the smell of their blood. 

Bonnie was concerned about you. You were reckless beforehand, and loyal. But after you turned, you had become dangerous. She was always on edge around you now, her trust was failing.

“Okay.” Damon huffed, grabbing you from under your arms and picking you up. “It’s dinner time for the baby vampire.”

Elena frowned, wanting to tell Damon to be careful with you, but she soon realised that would only enhance your annoyance towards the other vampire and make Stefan feel more guilty.

“Bye!” You yelled as he half carried and half dragged you away, descending the both of you into the basement where the fridge containing the blood bags were stored.

“I’d rather be locked in that thing with someone’s foot than have to drink old blood.” Damon couldn’t resist but roll his eyes and smirk at you as he opened the top of the rectangular fridge.

“That can be arranged.” He fluttered his long eyelashes as he spoke sarcastically, reinforcing your face to pout once more. He held out a bag towards you, which you had to scowl at.

“Drink.” He slipped it into your hands, awaiting you to fulfil your appetite. The plastic was flexible in your hands, it was quite entertaining until your stomach decided to growl.

“This is human, right?” You hoped it was, you didn't want to drain Bambi or Thumper, as Damon had often joked about with Stefan.

“I picked it up myself.” He sent you a smirk, which made you bow your head. You took the plastic bit that looked like a straw, breaking off the stopper, and drank from it as you would from any fast food drink.

When the blood reached your lips, you moaned. It was good, better even. Damon frowned at your reaction, most vamps had very different reactions when trying to detox from first hand blood.

“Oh my god.” You were quick to have finished your first, and soon reached and grabbed your second.

“You are definitely Stefan’s creation.” Damon drawled on teasingly, but you paid no mind, you were too hungry. He wasn’t concerned about you finishing off their supply either, it was better than you draining strangers or friends.

“This is so good.”

“Hallelujah.” He sighed, content that you were drawing yourself from danger by taking a safer route of survival. 

[yoonia]

Pay by Play (M)

Pay By Play - A Gift Made With Love for our dearest @btsracket​, a homage for Cam Boy as part of the Made With Love Project held by @bangtansmutcentral​

↳ Pairings/Genre: Jeon Jungkook x female reader | Cam Boy!au, Smut, Voyeurism

↳ Word count | 3,610 words

↳ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

↳ Author’s Note | Happy belated Valentine’s Day, dear @btsracket​. Forgive me that it took me so long to give you this gift. I had some troubles in deciding which one to pay homage to when I ended up getting drown in your masterlist since you are a really talented writer. I hope this one will please you dearly as I have enjoyed reading Cam Boy! Jimin :)

↳ Warning | including sex talk, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, fingering (solo, female), handjob (solo, male), slight cum play

Disclaimer: References to the original content belong to Original author. The following content and characterisation are copyrighted as followed.

The web page seems to take forever to load and the wait is making you anxious. So you step away from your laptop and start to move around the room to distract yourself from it.

You give another look at your bedroom window, making sure that it is locked and that the curtains are secured tightly to obscure you from outside. Not that your bedroom will be visible from anywhere, but one cannot always be too sure about it. Then you walk to the door, making sure that it is also locked, so nobody could suddenly burst inside while you are in the middle of doing what you are about to do.

By the time you return to your laptop, the landing page has opened, showing you the log in set-up to get through.

Are we really doing this? You wonder with a groan as your fingers are hovering on top of your keyboard. Yes, we are, you tell yourself when you hit enter. You have saved enough money for this, so what is the point on backing up on it now?

“Oh, fishsticks,” you murmur to yourself when you begin filling up the registration form.

Username?

You start typing, Raven—

Uh, hell no, you shake your head and delete it. There is no way you are going to use the same username as the one you regularly use to play your online games, which conveniently, is also used publicly on your Twitch account. You decide to type another name.

BabyGurl95.

Is that too much? You tilt your head as you stare at the screen. Oh, what the hell. You decide to let it go and continue dealing with the rest.

More questions about your legal identity appear next and you enter the response one at a time, entering them along with your credit card number and a few things that you would normally keep to yourself instead of sharing them to other people. Then comes the questions regarding the choices of rooms for you to enter next.

Private Room/Joint room? Private. 

You still feel awkward about doing this, and you simply cannot imagine having to share a room with a few other people. Especially when you know for sure that it would only leave you to become a bystander without getting a chance to get involved, even if this option would require you to send a full token payment ahead.

Preferences? You skim down the list of options to choose from and tilt your head in frustration. Oh, how am I supposed to know? You wonder as you tick the last option box — Open to anything.

Thank you for providing your information. Redirecting—

The next page pops up on the screen, showing you a few photos of faceless men with amazingly sculpted abs. Different screen names are added beneath each one, noting the different rooms that are available for you to enter. You choose one that sounds — and seems — the least intimidating out of the others.

You will be redirected to the next available room.

It doesn’t take them any longer than a minute to send you to the next page, straight to the chatroom.

DazzlingKook is online.

The screen changes to a video chat, revealing a very young, very attractive guy sitting across the screen. A soft tune of music is playing in the background and you can faintly hear him humming to the song, even if you could barely see his face with the way his hair is falling over it.

His voice sounds nice.

The guy is sitting back on his lazy chair at the center a room that looks like a bit of a mix between a dorm room and a bachelor pad. He seems to be enjoying his time, relaxing as if he has yet to notice that you are there, watching him. You appreciate it, however, since it could give you a moment to admire him silently before you could get on with it.

His hair is a mix of black with blue streaks at the edge of each strand, glowing like silk under the lights with a few subtle curls appearing at the parts which curtain his face.

His outfit is pretty simple. The tight black T-shirt he is wearing nearly leaves nothing to your imagination as his wide shoulders, buff chest, and toned arms are accentuated perfectly beneath it. Neither does the grey sweatpants he is wearing, when the fabric fails to hide his toned thighs underneath. Your eyes move to the center, right between his legs, where you run your gaze at the prominent lines of his bulge, but you immediately look away before getting a clearer view.

Too soon, you tell yourself as your eyes fall on his right arm instead, where you find a few beautiful ink works covering his skin from his knuckles and all the way up to the part of skin that is covered by his sleeve. It is not often that you become attracted to tattoos, but his tattoo works look so perfect on him.

As your eyes move to his face, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you find him already looking at the screen with a smile growing on his lips.

“Oh, hello,” he says, while you realise that his voice sounds even more beautiful when he speaks. “We have a guest today.”

You say nothing yet and can only watch as he leans closer, his face coming clearer on the screen while he takes a moment to read something on his side of the screen. “Welcome, Baby Girl,” he greets you, his voice lowering to a purr when he reads your username out loud. “My name is Jungkook. Looks like it’s just you and me for today.”

His beautiful eyes are glowing, as if there are stars hidden beneath those dark orbs. His gaze is sharp, penetrating through the screen, and you could feel the heat on your skin as you look up at his beautiful face and his adorable smile. You tug nervously on your tank top, tidying yourself and flushing for a moment before remembering that he would not be able to see you, nearly forgetting that you have chosen the option to let this be a one-sided chat for now. And you feel more than relieved for having to choose it earlier.

Taking a deep breath, you notice that he is waiting for you to start talking — or, in this case, to chat. So you reach the keyboard and type down the only thing that comes up in your mind.

BabyGurl95: Hi there.

“Hello to you too, Baby Girl,” he answers you, smiling, once again saying your username in a way which makes your skin feel warmer.

BabyGurl95: I hope I wasn’t interrupting.

His lips curl up to a smile that is both sweet and mischievous. This time, you notice how his eyes sparkle right before his smile appears. “Oh, no you weren’t. You came just at the right time. I kind of needed a friend and here you are.”

BabyGurl95: Oh, do you? What have you been up to?

This guy, Jungkook, stretches out and leans back on his chair with his hands crossed behind his head. The move requires him to flex the muscles up on his arms and stretches his tight shirt further up his abs. “Nothing much. I was just waiting for you,” he says while drawling his voice to a groan.

BabyGurl95: You’re making me blush.

And you are not lying. Your cheeks are warm for seeing those muscles of his and thanks to how fast your mind is rushing to the gutter. You nearly drool at his sight and he has yet to take anything off. And there is also that gaze of his. The gaze that is filled with mirth and lust as if you are right there standing in front of him.

“Really?” he asks you with a wide grin. He leans forward once again, propping his elbows on his knees so he could be a bit closer to the screen. The voice that comes out of his lips next is much lower when he speaks, “Do you blush easily, Baby Girl? I wish I could see it. I’d love to make you blush more often.”

Heat comes rising from inside your stomach before it begins to rush up to your cheeks and down between your legs. His words make you smile though, as you surely know exactly how easy he could make you flustered under his dark gaze and sultry words. He is definitely good at this.

BabyGurl95: I like your tattoos.

You decide to send him, having the need to distract yourself from how your body is reacting to him.

“Thank you,” he says, his face beaming with his pride smile. He looks down on his arm for a second and starts running his hand up and down the ink work on his skin. You lick your lips, your fingers are clutched on your lap, itching to run your own fingers through those marvellous lines.

His voice snaps you out of your reverie as he tilts his head to his right shoulder and says, “I have some more right up here. Wanna see?”

I want to see them all, you wonder while nibbling on your bottom lip.

BabyGurl95: Yes. Show me.

Jungkook chuckles softly and grips the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t look away as he begins pulling the shirt up, his face disappearing only briefly as he passes the shirt over his head and then it is gone from his clutch the next second. He straightens up to show you the rest of the tattoo which had been covered under the sleeve of his shirt and begins running his hand over the ink once more.

Yet this time, as you run your gaze up and down his bare arms, shoulders, and now exposed chest, you find that his arm is not the only thing you want to run your fingers on. And the urge becomes even stronger when he begins to do it for you, when he trails his fingers down the lines of his abs, making a few stops at his nipples before reaching down, the tips of his delicate fingers brushing at the line leading down to his covered crotch.

BabyGurl95: They are beautiful.

BabyGurl95: Your tattoos, I mean.

—you quickly add, though you were not exactly just talking about his tattoos. Every inch of the lines on his body makes it seem like he had been sculpted by a talented artist.

“You know,” his voice once again brings your gaze back to his face. “It’s kind of unfair that I can’t see you.”

BabyGurl95: Sorry, I’m a bit shy. This is my first time.

His eyebrows rise up and the curiosity on his face grows stronger. “Is it? I’m your first? Then it’s an honour that you’ve chosen me,” he says. “I like shy girls the most. Bet you’re blushing right now too.”

Your hands reach up to cup your cheeks, feeling warm under the skin and hating the fact that he is right. Your heartbeat starts pacing while his gaze deepens further. “Are you nervous, Baby Girl?”

BabyGurl95: Very. At least I was. But not anymore. You’re being nice to me and it helps a lot.

Again, you are not lying. Suddenly, you are feeling more bold the more your body heat pulses down to your core. Bold enough to type down the next message you are sending him,

BabyGurl95: Will it make it more fair if I tell you what I’m wearing?

He grins. “Really? Then tell me.”

Biting your lips, you decide to tease him a little.

BabyGurl95: I am wearing a white tank top with a very low front and short pants, stopping right beneath my hips. I may have also forgotten to put on a bra.

His eyes move slowly as he reads your message, then he suddenly releases a deep growl. “Looks like my shy girl can be bad after all,” he says to you while groaning deeply, which has your body heating up instantly to the sound of it. “You’re such a tease, but I’m glad you told me so I can picture you in my head.”

Jungkook grins as he leans back, spreading his legs apart. “Tell me how bad you want me to be today. I’ll do it for you.” He stretches out again, flexing his muscles, and the sight of him doing it ignites the flame inside you further when you can see everything instead of imagining it like how you did when he still had his shirt on.

BabyGurl95: I think you’re still a bit overdressed though.

BabyGurl95: Are you wearing anything underneath those pants?

He only chuckles. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asks you playfully. “But don’t worry, I’m here to please my Baby Girl today, so let me show you instead, hmm?”

He stands up from his seat, making a show for you as he gently pushes his sweatpants down. The pants slide down his hips, and his rigid cock instantly springs out the moment it is relieved from its restraint. Jungkook kicks his pants away and looks down, grinning widely as if he knows exactly where your eyes might be looking at.

“I’ve been going all commando today, knowing that you were going to be here,” he teases, groaning softly when he reaches down, touching his hard shaft with his palm. “Oh, look—I think I’m all hard for you, Baby Girl.”

And you can clearly see it. His cock looks so hard and stiff against his palm, its girth is wide enough to probably split you in half. The thought itself makes the space between your legs begin to pulse harder, your walls are clenching and throbbing the more you imagine him filling you up.

“Are you wet for me, Baby Girl? Is watching me making you wet?” he asks you, while you gasp aloud, feeling as if you are caught in the act.

Snapping out of your daze, you decide to tease him again.

BabyGurl95: Wouldn’t you like to know?

He laughs. “You’re cute. I think I like you, Baby Girl,” he says, chuckling, and you notice how his hand is still on his cock.

“Ever been with anyone as big as me?” he asks you with a smug grin on his face. “I might feel hurt if you tell me that you’ve seen something better,” he adds, pouting dramatically which makes you feel a bit giddy.

BabyGurl95: No, you’re beautiful. So perfect.

BabyGurl95: You look so hard. So stiff. I don’t even think my hand will fit around it.

“Really, now?” he asks you breathlessly. He barely has his hand wrapped tightly around his girth yet his body is already shaking, a sign that teasing and giving you a show has aroused him as well. “Think I’m too big for your small hands, baby?”

BabyGurl95: I want to see what it looks like if you wrap your hand around your cock. I want to imagine your cock in my hand.

With a lazy grin on his face and a soft chuckle, he wraps his palm around his cock tighter, instantly groaning to the touch of his hand on his skin.

“This feels so good,” he groans. “But I bet your smaller hand would have felt better.”

BabyGurl95: Stroke yourself for me.

“I will,” he says with a deep grunt. “But only if you touch yourself for me too, Baby Girl.”

But you have beat him up to it.

You have slipped your hand through the waistband of your shorts right after you have sent him the last message. Your fingers have reached your folds, ready to part them open so you can slip inside and touch the spot that has been throbbing for him.

BabyGurl95: I have my hands down between my legs. My small fingers are close to slipping into my pussy now.

His smile grows as he reads your message, then his eyes become dark with lust when he reads the next.

BabyGurl95: and you were right. I am wet. You make me so damn wet.

“Fuck,” he groans while steadily stroking himself. “I knew you would be. But you’re being naughty for touching yourself without telling me first.”

BabyGurl95: I’m telling you now, aren’t I?

—you type slowly with one hand, while your fingers slip between your folds, meeting your slick slit and throbbing clit.

BabyGurl95: I’m touching myself. I’m so wet and slick that my fingers can move so easily.

BabyGurl95: I wish they were yours, not my smaller ones.

Jungkook licks his lips. You can tell how his knees are trembling as he continues to stroke his cock. “I wish I could see you, Baby Girl. I’m sure you look so hot doing that—touching yourself for me,” he says, sitting back down on his lazy chair when he cannot take it anymore, when his legs no longer able to support him standing.

His eyes are droopy when he enjoys the pleasure he is giving himself. His chest rises and falls along with his heavy breathing, his deep grunts escaping through his lips each time his palm moves up and down his cock, and you make sure to move your fingers on the same pace as his hand is moving. You circle your fingers around your clit, gasping to the touch before moving your digits to find your opening.

BabyGurl95: That is so hot. Keep on going. I want to watch you cum.

Jungkook chuckles. “Tell me what you are doing right now, Baby Girl,” he says. He has his legs spread apart for you to see clearly as he keeps stroking his cock, the rhythm becoming faster and harder as he speaks. Then he moves the other hand down, cupping his balls when you can tell his body growing tight the closer he is to reach his climax. “Let me think about you as we cum together.”

Your hand is shaking as you slip your fingers through your opening, and you wait until you can move them steadily in and out of your cunt before finally typing carefully—

BabyGurl95: I’m sliding my fingers in and out of my pussy. While thinking about your cock inside me.

Reading your message must have brought up something inside him that you can hear him groaning deeply. “Oh yeah, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks you, grunting as he keeps stroking himself. “Want me inside you? Want to see this cock moving in and out of your pussy instead, Baby Girl?”

BabyGurl95: Yes.

“I want it too,” he says. “But for now, I guess I should give you a show—let you see how hard I can come just by thinking about how you are touching yourself while watching me.”

BabyGurl95: Yes. Cum for me. I’m close.

Jungkook starts moving his hands faster, stroking his cock harder and with a quicker pace while the other hand moves to massage his balls, triggering himself to come closer to his release. You begin to move faster, your fingers sliding in and out of your throbbing walls, pressing deep within you where you know it would be enough to push you to your orgasm as you see him close to erupting.

The tip of his cock is changing colour, reddening as it grows swollen. His breath becomes ragged, though you could hear him cursing between each grunt he makes. Then his head falls back, his hips jolting upwards as he thrusts them into his own hands, and thick white cum comes shooting from his cock with a deep groan slipping out of his parted lips.

The sight of him embracing his release looks so hot, so sexy, that it triggers yours to come right at the same time. With one move of your thumb flicking at your clit right as you press your fingers hard against your sweet spot, your pussy walls clench tight and your orgasm comes in pulsing waves that you have to bite your lips to hold back from screaming.

You can hear his voice, chuckling deeply and breathlessly against your own heavy breathing.

“Look, Baby Girl. I made a mess on myself,” he says, chuckling.

You open your eyes to see him looking down on himself, his eyes are wide as he stares at the cum that had fallen all over him. The taut muscles of his abs are now glowing to the mix of his sweat and the white cum that he is spreading all over his skin with his fingers. You nearly drool at the sight. You were never one to enjoy the taste of cum, but you suddenly wish that you could lick him clean.

And you decide to let him know that.

BabyGurl95: That was so damn hot, Jungkook. You made me cum too. I’ve made a mess in my panties because of you.

BabyGurl95: I wish I could lick you clean.

“That makes it even for us then,” he says, his eyes glowing with lust as he spoke, as if he didn’t just spoil himself while giving you a show.

BabyGurl95: My time is up. I have to go. Thank you for spending the time with me and for giving me a good time.

Jungkook smiles to the screen without making any move to clean himself. “It was nice to have you around, Baby Girl. Come back again next time. Maybe I can have my buddy, Jimin, to join us in our play.”

Oh, that would be interesting, you wonder silently, suddenly feeling excited that you simply cannot wait for it.

BabyGurl95: See you soon.

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