#first batter went terrible

[bunibelles]

I now understand why people say macarons are the hardest cookies to make :’D

[sturniowhore]

bsf!Chris hcs

warnings:FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

A/N: this is my first time writing please be kind!! I hope I didn't do terrible LMAO sorry if some of the blurbs are like really long I can't stop yapping

Bsf!Chris who's always touching you in some sort of way either having an arm around your shoulders or a hand to the small of your back

You, Nick, Matt, and Chris were waiting in line to check out at a grocery store, they were going to do a blind, deaf, mute baking video but had no idea what to buy so they brought you along to help them. Nick and Matt were In front of You and Chris arguing about something stupid. You were on your phone scrolling through Instagram, Chris beside you sometimes peaking over your shoulder to look at your phone. After a few minutes Chris decided he was bored. He yawned stretching out his arms, his left arm grabbed onto your waist pulling you closer to him and his right fell to his side. You were used to Chris always holding onto you so you didn't mind in fact you leaned into his touch. "im boredddddd" Chris groaned, his left cheek was pressed against the side of your head. You hummed and ignored his antics continuing to scroll.

Bsf!Chris who can't sleep by himself and is always sleeping in your bed

You hear your door opening shuffling coming right after. Your back was turned towards the door not looking back because you already know who it is. Chris climbs on the bed laying down in front of you "hey miss lady" he greets in a hushed tone, you smile and shake your head as his arms pull you closer to him, his chin resting on your head.

Bsf!Chris who always shares his food and drinks with you even though he hates sharing

You and Chris were in his bedroom the AC being on full blast. there was an extreme heat wave going on in Boston and it was unbearable. You were sprawled out on his bed face down groaning and complaining about how much you hate summer, Chris was chuckling on the floor near a fan sipping a cold can of Pepsi. You reach out to the bedside table for your water bottle and realize it's empty and let out a big huff. Chris turns his head to look at you and the empty bottle, he looks down at his own drink. He gets up from off the floor and walks over to you, handing you the can. You pick up your head to face him and the drink. "you sure? I know that's your last one you don't have t-" "Y/n.. just take the damn drink." You were hesitant at first, but still grabbed the cold drink from his hands and took a sip. Your face instantly relaxed and let out a content sigh. Chris grinned when you tried handing his drink back to him "nah, you keep it" and went back to his original seat on the floor smiling to himself.

Bsf!Chris who is always annoying you in the kitchen while you cook/bake because he knows it makes you mad

You were making brownies, Chris watching intently near the fridge while you started to preheat the oven. His eyes roamed over to the island where he sees a bowl full of brownie batter, he smirks and walks up to it dipping his finger in. You turn around and see Chris's finger in his mouth. You were confused at first then you saw the bowl of batter behind him. "CHRIS. You weren't supposed to eat that!" Chris laughs and dips his finger in the bowl again before running away when he sees you glare at him.

Bsf!Chris who always pays for you even if you insist that you can pay for it yourself

You and Chris were at a coffee shop. He didn't wanna be there because he hated coffee but he knew you couldn't live without it so he went in with you. It was your turn to order, you asked for your usual caramel latte and looked at Chris, your eyes asking him if he wants anything. Chris shook his head no and you confirmed your order. The Barista pointed at the small screen In front of you asking for payment, you were in the middle of taking your wallet out from your bag when you heard a DING from the screen. You look up and the screen said payment confirmed, Chris's phone moving back into his pocket. "Chris.. you didn't have to do that." Chris shrugged "I know I wanted to though" his arm moving to your shoulders. You smiled at his gesture, picking up your latte that the barista handed to you. "i'll pay you back." You and Chris walked out of the coffee shop, his arms still draped around your shoulder. Chris laughed "No you won't"

Bsf!Chris who gawks at you when you show him clothes you try on while going shopping with him

"do we like this?" You say in front of the mirror in a fitting room. You were wearing a black mini dress. "does this make me look weird?" Waiting for a response from your best friend, "Chris?" You question when he doesn't say anything you turn around and see him absolutely mesmerized by you. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly open. "You okay? hello earth to Chris?" Your fingers snapped in front of his face to get him out of his trance. Chris shakes his head blinking a few times, coming back to reality "yeah I uh.. you look.. beautiful" You giggle at his antics and turn back to the mirror "i don't know if I should get It though.." "NO! I mean- get it, please get it you look amazing I'll even pay!"

Bsf!Chris who gives it his all when playing carnival games wanting to win you the giant stuffy

Chris was in front of a ring toss game at the fair, he saw you staring at the giant hello kitty plushie and he knew he had to win It for you. "Chris c'monnn you spent $25 on this stupid game already I don't need the plushie" Chris waved you off, more determined than ever to get you that plushie even if it meant him getting bankrupt trying. After a few more tries and an extra $20 he finally won the giant plushie. Your eyes lit up when the worker handed the toy to you, squealing from happiness. Chris looks at you in awe, he didn't care that he spent $45 on a carnival game you squeezing the hello kitty stuffy with a big smile on your face was worth every penny.

Bsf!Chris who introduces you as his girl to his friends

You, Nick, Matt, and Chris were at a party. You were hanging out talking to Matt in the corner when Chris called you over. You walked up to him and some of his friends that you've haven't met before, His arm wraps around your waist "This is my girl Y/n, she lives in Boston but is visiting us in LA for a couple days" You looked down at the floor and smiled feeling your cheeks get hot, Chris's arm never left your waist as he continued talking to his friends.

Bsf!Chris who always comforts you when you're upset, always lending you his shoulder to cry on

You were on Chris's bed, your head against the crook of his neck. Loud sobs and thick tears streaming down your face and on to the neckline of his shirt, there was a small pool forming but Chris didn't care. All he wanted was to make sure you knew that he was here for you. "hey its okay.. I got you ma.. let it all out" He coos, his comforting words started to make you feel warmer and safe. His arms tighten around you, rocking the both of you in a back-and-forth motion. His lips graze the top of your head, leaving behind a gentle yet loving kiss.

Bsf!Chris who's always holding your hand and kissing it just because

You and Chris were on the couch watching a movie together. His right arm draped around your shoulders, Your head leaning against him. You were watching Beauty And The Beast, it was your favorite. You had to have watched it at least 200 times but no matter how many times you've seen it, it still brought as much comfort as it did the first time you watched it. Chris wasn't a big fan of Disney princess movies but he knew that you loved them, so no matter what he would always say yes if you asked him to watch one with you. You were singing along to Tale As Old As Time, Chris was also humming to the tune. He glanced down at your face to see you smiling sweetly watching Belle and the Beast dancing. Seeing your smile made his heart flutter, it brought a happy grin to his face as well. Chris's gaze dropped to your hands that were on your lap, his free hand interlocking with one of yours. He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissing the back of your palm and knuckles. You turn to face him giving him a questioning look, your hand still in his. A boyish smile was shown across his face "what?" he questioned. "what are you doin'?" You laughed. "can't I kiss my favorite girl's hand?" You shook your head in disbelief, a huge smile displayed on your face. "you can but like.. what's the occasion?" He shrugged his shoulders "just because." Chris brought your hand back up to his lips peppering it with multiple kisses. You giggled at his actions before turning your head back to the movie, Your hands never leaving his and occasionally feeling a sweet kiss.

Bsf!Chris who gets insanely overprotective and jealous at any man who tries to talk to you

You and the triplets were at a party. It was your first time in LA so you stayed close to Nick, Matt, and Chris since you didn't know many people. Nick left to go talk to some of his friends and Matt went to the bathroom, leaving you alone with Chris. "Having fun miss lady?" Chris grins down at you, admiring the curves of your body and the sweetness of your face. "Yeah this isn't so bad" You look up at him smiling. You feel someone approach you from behind, tapping your shoulder. You turn around seeing a tall man with green eyes and blonde hair, you had to admit he was kinda cute. "hey! I haven't seen you around before ya new?" He asks you, displaying a charming smile. Chris's grin turned into a scowl. He eyed the man up and down wondering why he chose you to talk to out of all the girls at the party, why did he choose his girl? "uhm kinda? I'm just visiting" You reply to him. The man nods "you come here with anyone?" "i-" You were about to reply but were cut off. "yeah actually shes with me" Chris glares at the man. "oh. sorry man." He nods at the both of you before walking away. You turn to look at Chris, a confusing look displayed on your face "what was that about?" "Y/n, trust me I've heard about him before he's bad news." Chris lied, he didn't know who that man was let alone know if he was a bad person or not. You give Chris a grateful smile, silently thanking him for saving you from potential trouble. "c'mon lets go to Nick" Chris takes your hand leading you away. When you both arrive to where Nick was with his friends, Chris doesn't let go of your interlocked hands. He didn't want anyone else approaching you. He didn't want anyone approaching his girl.

Bsf!Chris who denies he has feelings for you when he knows he does everyone knows

Nick and Matt were in front of Chris, their arms crossed with an annoyed look on their faces. "dude, fucking ask her out already" "ask who out?" Chris responded not looking away from his phone, knowing exactly who his brother was referring to. "Bitch don't act stupid you know who. It's so obvious that you both like each other it's unbearable" "I have no idea who your talking about" "Y/N CHRIS, Y/N." Chris looks up at nick hearing your name. "what are you guys sayin'? were just good friends" "yeah and I'm straight." Chris rolls his eyes at the accusation "you better tell her how you feel before you lose her man" Matt shrugs his shoulders before going to his room, Nick following close behind. "whatever" Chris continues to scroll on his phone, not paying attention to anything on the screen. The only thing on his mind is you.

Bsf!Chris who finally gets the courage to tell you his feelings

You and Chris were taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. Both of you were just walking, talking, occasionally laughing and exchanging stories. In the middle of walking you both came across a little playground. Chris took your hand and dragged you inside the playground gates. "Sit, I'll push you" Chris pats the swing. You sit down, both hands grasping at the chain handles. Chris drags the swing back for momentum and gives you a firm push. You swing back and forth, laughing like you were 4 years old again playing on the swings for the first time. Hearing your laughs makes Chris laugh, he loved the sound of your voice, he loved the way your eyes lit up, he loved the way your nose scrunched, he loved...you. The realization hits him and he stops pushing you immediately. Well he always knew but now there was no denying it. "Chris? everything okay?" Your head turns back to face him, looking at him with concern. He looks into your eyes and remembers Matt's words "you better tell her before you lose her." "Hello?? Chris??" You were now off of the swing and in front of your best friend, waving your hands in his face you snap him out of his dazed state. "yeah I uh.." Chris blinked a few times and looked down at your hands, he held them in his interlocking them. "I have something to tell you but.." "but?" "I'm scared Y/n.." Your eyebrows furrow. "Scared of what?" "scared of losing you. i- i don't wanna ruin this." You smile, your hands leaving his and cupping his face. "Don't be silly, you wont ever lose me. I'm not that easy to get rid of." You joke, Chris doesn't laugh. That's unusual, he always laughs. Instead he looks down sighing, his face unreadable. "Chris, you know you could tell me anything" you tilt your head to meet his gaze. Chris makes eye contact with you and quickly shuts his eyes, his lips form into a thin line. "Y/n, I.. I like you. Like really really like you." Your eyes widen at his confession, your speechless. Chris notices and is thinking the worst. "I understand if you don't like me back" "Chris-" "I hope I didn't make this awkward" "Chr-" "I hope I didn't ruin anything, ohmygod please don't stop being friends with me I don't know if I can-" You shut him up by connecting your lips with his. His eyes widen in shock, for a minute he's not moving thinking this is a dream, a dream to good to be true. He comes back to his senses and realizes its real, your really kissing him. Chris's arms wrap around your waist and he kisses back, he lingers for a lot longer then he should not wanting the moment to end and you don't mind, its all you wanted and more.

Bf!Chris who showers you with love any chance he gets.

You were in the kitchen washing dishes from tonight's dinner. You hear footsteps coming down the stairs, not turning your head thinking it was one of the boys who probably forgot something from the living room. Arms wrap around your waist causing you to yelp in surprise. "shh its only me ma" your best friend new boyfriend says from behind you, his breath tickling your ear. "Chris you almost made me break a plate" you whine, pretending to be mad at him. "we have more" Chris's lips attach to your neck, leaving behind multiple kisses. You laugh, turning around to become face to face with him. "What's up?" you question him with a smile plastered on your face. He shrugs his shoulders "jus' wanted to be near you" He says, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I gotta do the dishes though" "You still can i'll just be here." "You're a big baby" You tease with your back to his chest continuing doing the task in front of you. Chris hums in response his chin on your shoulder breathing in your scent. His arms wrap around your waist, never wanting to leave this position. Never wanting to leave you.

[st7rnioioss]

ੈ‧₊˚ bags, clairo

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt sturniolo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were doing a challenge for chris's girlfriends youtube. then you and matts song came on!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: swearing, fluff, very fluffy

a/n: i LVOE this request, thank so so much. btw, sorry if i misunderstood the thing and matt and the reader arent in a relationship HELP. anyway, i literally love bags by clairo so much.

this is based off this request!

───────── 🐇 You stood in the triplet’s kitchen with Madi and Chris’s girlfriend Nat, short for Natalie.

For Natalie’s channel, you were doing a “baking deaf, blind and mute” challenge, where one had a blindfold on, one with headphones on, and one with tape covering their mouth.

Nat introduced the video, immediately getting on with the challenge.

“MADI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Nat laughed loudly, due to her sudden loss of hearing, almost falling backwards.

“Nat, I can’t fucking see!” Madi yelled back, trying to pour the flour nicely into the bowl. You stood beside them, uncontrollably muffled-laughing because of the duct tape over your lips.

You tried your best to help them, but it was very hard to do when you couldn’t communicate normally with them. From time to time, you took over Madi’s or Nat’s tasks, pushing her out of the way.

The triplets were sitting on the couch behind the camera. Chris was having the time of his life, watching his girlfriend terribly fail at baking a few cupcakes. Nick was for the most part on his phone or going back and forth from his room and the couch. 

Matt was also having fun, watching you try to get Madi and Nat out of the way so you could stop them from pouring batter on the floor. You had always been just a tad bit closer to Matt than Nick or Chris, until he finally confessed his mutual feelings for you.

⋆

“Okay, so we just put the cupcakes in the oven, so now we’re going to work on the icing. I’m gonna be blindfolded, Madi’s is gonna be mute, and Y/n will be deaf. Alright, let’s start!” Nat clapped her hands, handing you the headphones.

You put your hair down, the headphones sitting comfortably. Nat grabbed her phone, turning on the song she had stopped mid-through.

You didn’t recognize the first song, the second one being “yes, and?” by Ariana Grande. For the most part, you were standing beside your two friends humming along, occasionally smiling at Matt who was looking at you. He smiled back at you, adverting his gaze back to the mixing-bowl with the milk and vanilla.

“MADI, YOU’RE SPILLING THE MILK.” You yelled way too loudly, grabbing Madi by her shoulders with one hand, the other one stabilizing the bowl.

⋆

One song later, Madi was mixing the icing together to a thicker consistency. Your headphones were silent for a second, before your favorite song, Bags by Clario, started playing.

“GUYS, I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!” You yelled, trying to jump along with the beat in the song. Madi and Nat completely took over as you danced along. 

Matt looked up from his phone due to your yelling. Of course, he didn’t know what song was playing, but he was curious. You backed away from Madi and Nat, dancing along to Bags.

“EVERY SECOND COUNTS, I DON’T WANNA TALK TO YOU ANYMORE, AND” You laughed, singing loudly along. Matt’s face almost instantly lit up, due to this being your guys’s favourite song.

Almost everywhere you went together alone, Matt was listening to it with you (even when he was alone). On late-night car rides, cuddling in his room, or quietly singing in the triplet’s car videos, it was your song.

Your relationship was kept secret from the triplet’s fandom since Matt didn’t want you to receive hate or backlash. And you didn’t mind, as long as you both were happy, it was all that mattered. Currently, you have been going strong for two and a half years.

“ALL THESE LITTLE GAMES, YOU CAN CALL ME BY THE NAME I GAVE YOU!” Matt was beaming, staring in complete awe. If he wasn’t already madly in love with you, he was now.

Nat was continuously gently slapping your arm to stop you from dancing, but you didn’t budge. Almost like you were singing to Matt, you tried to point secretly at him, a smile immediately growing on your face as you locked eyes with him.

“CAN YOU SEE ME? I’M WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME,” You kept going, dancing, jumping, spinning, all sorts of expressions of excitement were expressed right then and there.

Nat and Madi had given up a long time ago, placing the rack with the cupcakes on the counter.

⋆

The following Thursday, Nat released the video to her channel.

You were cuddled up with Matt in your shared his bed, both mindlessly scrolling through social media. Matt was checking his Instagram, you on TikTok. One particular TikTok caught your eye.

An edit of you and Matt to Bags by Clairo. The clip of him mentioning the song in their Wednesday video, followed along by your singing.

You smiled to yourself, opening the comment section to find multiple people suspecting a possible relationship between the two of you. A bunch of people agreed, and a bunch of people turned it down.

You liked the edit, scrolling further, only to find more, more and more edits. Matt noticed your giggles, looking up from his phone to look at yours.

“Are you watching edits of.. us?” He smiled, putting his phone on his nightstand before turning back around to wrap an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, look. There’s a fuck ton of them. To Bags!” You smiled from ear to ear, a faint blush creeping up on your cheeks. Matt stared at you in awe, looking back at your phone to see more edits. He couldn’t stop smiling either, watching you so excited to see edits of you two to your favorite song.

“Oh my God, I love you,” Matt chuckled, pressing a few kisses from your forehead, down the side of your face.

“Matt, I lov- it- it tickles, stop!” You laughed loudly, the tickling sensation making you drop your phone. He couldn’t stop smiling, softly planting a kiss to your lips.

He pulled away slowly, his eyes glued on yours. “Can you send me that second one you showed me?”

⋆

a/n: i hope it lived up to your expectations arghhh, love the request once again, thank you thank you.

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn let me know if you'd like to be added!

[messrmoonyy]

- Give me my sin again

Arthur Morgan x Female reader

Request- " if Arthur has a secret lover that he tells no one about and he goes to see her when he can after jobs maybe.shes so kind and devout and good that he thinks he doesn't deserve her. But he be besotted with her obsessed to worship the ground she walks on. Arthur not believing in anything but finding this good woman and wanting to be good for her but maybe knowing he can't

A/N- this is mostly a kind of dive into Arthur's head I like it idk. I also paired this with a request I had about bathing Arthur. It kinda fits. Anyway this is a lil shorter than I normally write but life had been lifing lately Imao. And this got me back into writing something for the first time in a lil bit so! Do enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | some religious imagery, a small chunk of smut right near the end (oral, R receiving) { wc- 3.4k}

Masterlist | AO3

Arthur was not a good man . He feared he never had been. Not really. No matter how many people could try convince him otherwise. He wasn’t. He was bad. He did bad things. A good man didn’t murder, rob, manipulate.

He was no saint. So incredibly far from it.

And yet with you? Well… he felt he could be.

You with your delicate hands that soothed his bruised and battered skin, your voice like that of an angel on his shoulder that spoke to him with an airy tenderness that he did not deserve.

He was not a holy man. And yet for you he would renounce all sin and drop to his knees to beg for forgiveness and retribution. The only deity worth worshipping in his eyes. His slice of heaven always waiting to chase the darkness from his mind. If just for a few hours.

He was drawn to you like there was something mystical in your words, hypnotising him, controlling him, luring him in with nothing but a smile. He would find himself stumbling his way to your door, just to drop down at your feet and beg. Beg for you to erase his sins and show him grace, Allow him the privilege of being in your presence for a while. Because in that awful, terrible world he’d found himself in… nothing felt right but you.

And so there he was again. At your door. Standing there in the rain as he waited for you to answer. His knuckles bruised on the wood in the night, praying you’d be awake, two rabbits slung over his shoulder. As if they could be excuse enough to spend more time with you.

That he had brought you supplies. And that of course he wouldn’t mind skinning them for you. No it really wasn’t a bother.

Though deep down he knew he didn’t need an excuse. That you would always welcome him in with open arms and at times had even begged him not to leave again. But he always felt like he needed the excuse… maybe more to convince himself of something rather than you.

He knocked again. Hoping, praying you were still awake.

And you were. As if you’d been waiting. Maybe you had. But probably not. It has been weeks. 3. 4? He wasn’t sure. But weeks . Weeks that had felt like some kind of condemnation for his sins, being punished by having to stay away. Dutch in one ear, Strauss in the other. A gaggle of others behind him.

Like some guard dog sent out to attack. Kill. Rob. Threaten. And he was tired. Exhausted. He’d no chance to slip away, no chance to sneak his way to your cabin.

But he was there now.

And so were you.

“ Arthur” you looked ethereal. Stood there in the doorway, backlit by the lamp in the room behind you. You didn’t sound surprised to see him. More relieved than anything.

He knew he worried you. Knew you must be sick with it when he went away for weeks on end, no sign he was alive other than another article on the front of the paper about Dutch and the gang robbing something or other.

He walked in as you stepped aside, standing in the warmth of your small home. He’d arranged it for you some time back. Some place to keep you safe.

“ I missed you “ you said, your arms wrapping around his rain soaked torso. Your head resting against his chest, breathing out like you had just received your first gasp of air after being held underwater for too long.

“ I missed you too “ he murmured, his free arm wrapping around you. Strong. Secure. Steady. You were grounding, dragging him out of a haze he had been stuck in to coax him back to reality “ brought you these “ he said, his voice low. Gruff even. He felt like he couldn’t raise his voice in there. That if he did the illusion would shatter and he’d wake up in his tent. All of it some cruel dream to taunt him.

“ thank you “ you said, your voice soft “ I’ll skin them later “ that made Arthur smile, a chuckle escaping his lips. The first in 4 weeks.

“ darlin’ I’ve seen the way you skin game. I ain’t lettin’ you anywhere near ‘em you’ll butcher the damn things “ his voice was gentle with his teasing, but it was true. He’d once left you to it, letting you skin the game he’d brought you. Only to return to what looked like a massacre had taken place on your kitchen table “ I’ll do it “

You laughed a little yourself and nodded

“ yeah I… I ain’t the best huh “ he dropped the rabbits on the table and then turned back to you, he needed to be close to you again.

“ I really did miss ya “ he murmured, reaching out to tuck his fingers under your chin so you’d look up at him “ sorry I ain’t been around much “

He looked down at you, just looking. Admiring. You were so beautiful . So unbelievably gorgeous that it made his heart ache. So beautiful that even death would hesitate to pluck you up into his waiting arms. Because to remove you from the earth would be too vicious even for him, to devoid the planet of such beauty would be low even by his standards.

“ where y’been? “ you asked softly, leaning into his touch “ doin’ bad things again? “

“ real bad things sweetheart “ he murmured.

You never really asked him for more details. Never went delving into what dark and desperate things he found himself doing for Dutch. You'd push from time to time. But never asked anything too damning. You knew he was bad. Never asked him to confess his sins to you, you just let them lie. Let him forget them for a while whilst he was with you.

“ that mess in Valentine… was that you? “ she asked “ read about it in the papers. Claiming it was Van Der Linde boys. And I figured… that usually means you “ Arthur sighed, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as you looked up at him.

He didn’t deserve the way you gazed at him. The way you admired him. The way you peeled back each layer of terribleness to see the good hidden deep underneath.

“ yeah “ he didn’t attempt to lie. What was the need? You knew anyway “ Strauss took a bullet. Old bastards still breathin’ though unfortunately “ he murmured and stepped away from you. He felt tetchy. Needed to busy his hands.

You seemed to gather the point. That that was enough for now. That you didn’t need to know the who’s, the when’s, they why’s. He’d told you the vague outline. Skimmed the tale. And that was enough.

“ well… you gonna sort them rabbits f’me? I’ll cook you up somethin’ nice “ Arthur gave a small smile at your willingness to let his vague stories stay exactly that. To know he did bad things, but not wishing to know exactly what those things were.

And so you both fell into an almost domestic scene. The comfortable quiet that could settle around two people doing their own thing, two people just happy to be in each others company. Two people comfortable together.

He skinned the game as you pottered about doing something or other in the kitchen around him. It felt nice. A scene he could almost see himself having permanently.

Maybe somewhere back out west. Some little cabin or ranch, just you and him. And some sheep or chickens or… something. That damn rancher life Dutch had been harping on about for so long… but just you two.

A ring on your finger. A family. Domesticity that he never truly realised he’d craved.

But that was all some hopeless dream wasn’t it.

So he’d savour those moments for now. The quiet bliss. The escape from everything back at camp. His quiet comfortable time with you.

He finished the game, washing off his hands and placed himself behind you, arms around your waist and a gentle kiss to your cheek.

Those moments were his. His true escape and joy. When he could feel vulnerable. Affectionate.

You were the only true receiver of his affections. You brought it out of him. A constant deep desire within him to want to hold you. Kiss you. Love you. Something he usually tried to keep buried.

It was a tender scene. His chin propped on your shoulder, his arms around you. You often joked that it baffled you how this man that was so tender with you, so caring. So… soft. Was wanted dead or alive in multiple states.

His true moments of retribution came when he was with you like that. When he could hold you and be gentle. Pour out all his emotions and feelings via his actions.

Including the times when he was able to press you into your mattress. Your bed, his saving grace, his chance to truly worship every inch of you. And worship he did. Hands determined and insistent on your soft skin, mapping out your curves and edges to commit them to memory. Lips burning as they trailed your body to commit each inch to his brain.

The way your hands gripped at him, your fingernails piercing his skin and keeping him grounded. Reminding him it was all real he was sane. And the sounds you made more beautiful than any angel, whispering his name in his ear.

He always made sure to worship every part of you. Kissing in the most uncommon of places. His lips brushing your hip bone. The inside of your wrist. Each and every divet of your spine. Making sure you knew he cared. That he appreciated every second he had of you. That you weren’t some hurried little triste that he kept hidden away until he felt an itch needed to be scratched. That this side of things wasn’t a necessity. But simply just a way to prove his points.

He made sure you knew you were his everything. The one thing keeping him holding on to his morality, his one tether to the right side of things.

Afterwards he would lay there with you. Your body’s intwined and your fingers stroking through his hair. And he’d wonder when he’d get to see you again. When he’d be able to return to your arms. Missing you before he’d even left

And he desired it now.

It wasn’t even an inherently lust fuelled desire. But a desire to simply be close. To hold. To touch. To feel. To be touched in a way of care and to touch in a way that showed love not violence. To prove he could touch with love. That not everything he did needed to be violent.

So he turned you gently, cupping your face in his hands. And kissed you. Firm. But not rushed. Purposeful. His hands pulling gently at your hips to hold you flush against him. Some silent request for more.

But you held your hands firmly to his chest as he kissed you, like you could read his mind.

“ ain’t lettin’ you into my bed like this “ you said with a slight sternness to your tone that made him smile “ you look like you went swimmin’ in the swamps “ he chuckled at your words and nodded.

“ and I thought you enjoyed a rugged man “ he teased, his voice low and thick. He always spoke like he needed to be quiet with you. Like inside those four walls of your cabin if he spoke any louder he’d shatter the facade and you’d vanish.

“ rugged. Not filthy “ you teased with a smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek “ I’ll draw you a bath “

He watched you slip from his grasp, disappearing to arrange it. Simply because you wanted to. You didn’t have to. You weren’t the type to be some slave of a wife to a man that demanded everything of you. And he was not the type to be that kind of husband.

You simply just cared. Had too much care and kindness in your heart.

When it was ready you called him through. The whole thing still as quiet and calm as it had been since he’d stepped through your door.

The contrast always shocked him.

“ c’mon. Whilst it’s hot sugar “ you said softly, grabbing gently at his jacket from behind to help him shed it.

Being naked in front of you wasn’t always some lust filled moment. It was… natural. Intimate in ways different from those fuelled by sex. Vulnerable. Completely bare and unarmed. A way no one but you got to see him. A way he was certain he could never really trust anyone as much as you.

“need some time alone or ya want a hand? “ you asked softly, perching on the side of the tub. It was a little small. Or maybe he was a little big. Probably both.

He didn’t need your help not at all. But he’d take every single second he could have with you. Each tick of the clock was precious.

“ like my own personal bath girl ain’t ya darlin? “ he said with a smirk which made you smile, but roll your eyes.

“ I don’t think I’m as complimentary “ you said softly, dipping a cloth into the water to wash away the dirt and dust that came from sleeping outdoors and riding on horseback all day “ god the state of ya Arthur “ you sighed, gently washing over bruises and cuts.

You were used to that though. Arthur’s body had been littered in scars and bruises as long as he could remember.

“ ain’t nothin serious “ he said and it just made you sigh.

Your touch was so gentle against his battered skin. As if washing away all the bad he’d done in the 4 weeks between seeing you. As if he would step out of that tub and out of your door a new man, that he’d be restored to new from your gentleness alone. He could pretend at least.

“ need t’eat more “ you murmured softly, your fingers trailing down his side “ gettin’ skinny “ it felt nice to hear concern. For someone to worry about him. For someone to notice “ I do worry bout ya Arthur “ you said quietly as if reading his mind “ more so lately “

He sighed and nodded

“ I know my darlin’. I know “

“ ain’t never been this bad “

“ I know ” he glanced up at you as you ran soap suds through his hair, your fingers soft and gentle on the knots.

“ cant help feelin’ like… like one day you just ain’t gonna come back here “ he closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. He knew that this was how it was. That he worried you. That he caused you so much stress and anxiety “ I knew the deal when we first met but… Arthur what the hell happened back in Blackwater? “

His jaw involuntarily tensed at the mention of Blackwater. Because Arthur didn’t really know what had happened. He’d heard different accounts. Dutch said one thing. John another. The papers something else.

All he did know, was deep down even without the evidence to prove the fact, it had something to do with Micah. Micah and his impulsive tendencies

“ darlin’ “ he sighed again “ I ain’t even sure. I weren’t there you know I weren’t “ he hung his head a little and closed his eyes for a moment “ whatever it was it was bad. And Dutch… he’s got all these plans. Ranching or god damn mangoes in Tahiti I don’t know look- “ he reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly “ whatever that mess was, I gotta help them pick up the pieces. Y’know I do “

“ yeah. I know “ you said quietly

“ but once they got enough money, they can go off and have their South Pacific dreams… and I’ll be free to go where I like. Right back here. T’you “ he didn’t quite believe it himself. And it felt cruel to say it when he truly thought about it. But some part of him felt that if he spoke it out loud, maybe it could happen.

But then again. Maybe not.

You didn’t seem convinced. Not at all. That look in your eyes that seemed filled with sadness and longing. Longing for a life he couldn’t give you. Not yet.

“ sounds like a real nice dream “ you said quietly, standing up to grab him a towel to dry off

“ it is darlin. It is. And you keep dreamin’ it cause I will make it happen. I swear it to ya I will “ he wrapped the towel around him and stepped out of the tub, placing his hands on your shoulders “ I will darlin “

You gave him a gentle smile and reached up to brush the backs of your fingers across his cheek, nodding softly

“ I’ll keep dreamin “

As was the usual he ended up in your bed again, desperate to prove his point and show you his true devotion. Purging his sins with his head between your thighs.

His fingers softly traced along your folds, spreading them gently. He groaned as he felt you quiver and twitch under his touch, the feeling and sound making him more and more insatiable. More desperate to please. His thumb ran up and pressed against your clit, rubbing firmly, almost possessively like he was trying to mark the territory as his. Watching your reactions as you squirmed below him, heavenly sounds escaping your mouth.

“ so good Arthur “

Your mewling and whining was like music to his ears, he could listen to it all day. Hearing you moan out your praises only made his tongue move faster, his efforts to bring you to climax increasing. His hands gripping your thighs, using his free hand to push your hips down gently.

It was never about him in those moments. Didn’t care for getting any kind of release himself. He just cared about you. As if doing something so selfless would free him of his vengeful, selfish ways from the last few weeks.

He circled your clit, giving you the attention you needed and wanted from him, making up for his absence with every swipe of his tongue, listening to the pretty moans you made. His tongue swiped across you again and again, licking a strip over your sensitive skin just wanting to touch you everywhere.

Your soft moans and writhing movements were enough to drive him crazy, his hands gripping tightly at your thighs.

“ m’so… Arthur I- “ you spoke brokenly, your hand patting around softly before grabbing onto his “ Arthur “ your soft whimper of his name made him groan hungrily, his fingers instantly lacing with yours

“ right here darlin. Ain’t goin no where “

He hummed softly against you, feeling your muscles tighten under his tongue. He pressed his tongue flat against you, giving a long, slow lick. He was addicted to the taste, he just wanted more of you. Like he couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get close enough. He groaned softly again, the vibrations of the sound clearly doing you wonders.

He could feel your walls beginning to clench around his tongue as he thrust it inside of you,your hand squeezing down on his and you softly mewled his name over and over . And a few more flicks of his tongue was enough, your back arching from your bed with a high pitched whine. Your thighs clamping around his head making him moan against you, not stopping in his ministrations. Fervently licking and lapping until you went slack, gently pushing at his head.

“ oh Jesus “ you whispered with a soft, breathy laugh “ I don’t know how you’re so good at that “ he smirked softly and crawled back over your body, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“ you give me enough practice “ he murmured with a smile, tilting your head so that he could kiss you.

“ did you really mean what you said earlier?” You asked quietly as he pulled back, your fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead “ that dream. We’ll really have that some day? “

He looked down at you. So hopeful. So desperate to love and to be loved. By him. He wanted to give you the world. To hand you anything and everything you wanted and needed on a silver platter before you could even ask for it.

Deep down he wished he could. A small, tiny part of him hoping that one day he really could fulfil that desire. Be… normal. A rancher or a farm hand. You, his wife. A kid.

But a louder, stronger part of him told him he couldn’t. That he’d never really escape. That something would always be in the way. Something would always stop him.

But looking down at you, that loving hopeful look. He couldn’t tell you that.

“ yeah. Yeah darlin’ we will “

[luvyeni]

THE DEMON IN THE KITCHEN • PARK SUNGHOON

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!sunghoon wc. 5.2k+

𓄷 warnings... smut mdni. mentions of murder. sunghoon actually hates you. attempted murder ( twice ). reader likes some weird stuff. sexual tension. oral ( m. receiving ). rough sex. degradation.

nia's notes: this is probably a lot darker than the jake one , im sorry, but I hope you still enjoy 🖤 jay is next !!!

jake | lucifer masterlist | jay

having taken you away , I became a terrible monster, destroy and trample all …

with the burning fire of lucifer’s anger , swallow it up …

It had been about a month since you've found out about Jake; and the other demons who you haven't met that lived in your grandparents' old house — they hadn't introduced themselves yet ; so you and Jake spent your days alone in the house , never really leaving.

You mother had also came and visited to check on the house, see what you had gotten done; and if the house needed any renovations— unfortunately; your new friend had to stay away that week, which he dramatically claimed was the worse week in 50 years.

Besides watching TV shows and forcing Jake to take up baking; you two also had a lot of sex— like a lot there was not a time jake and you weren't on each other; his hips constantly rutting against yours while watching tv; his hands in your pants , giving you orgasm after orgasm before you went to sleep. Jake never slept though; he didn't need it, instead he watched over you while you sleep. At first yes you thought it was a bit creepy; but eventually you grew to like it; and soon you couldn't sleep unless he was right next to you, holding your hand.

You liked spending time with Jake; but you couldn't help but ask questions about the others; jake— who at first was jealous that you would literally ask about them when he's right there , put his pride to the side; you weren't only his— told you everything he could about his brothers ; telling you that he believed it will different and they'll all come out when they're ready. “be patient.” he would always said. “things will be different soon.”

“have you tried to eat?” you asked during one of your baking sessions. “of course , but, I don't need to eat, why would I? besides your grandmother was a terrible cook.” His face scrunched up in disgust. “I don't need to eat the brownies , but I believe you when you say they are good.” You frowned; which made him feel bad. “Fine, I'll eat one.” You smiled , cutting him a piece of freshly cooked brownie. “take a bite.”

You watched as he bit down on the brownie; his eyes lit up, moaning at the chocolate gooey treat. “it's so good.” he said. “We did a good job.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “we? the only thing you did was crack the eggs.” he shrugged. “That's something.” He said , your lips were in a thin line. “You got egg shells in the batter three times.”

“When you leave at night.” You said , laying in bed after a tense session. “where do you go?” this question had always loomed over your head. “there's a lot you don't know about this house; a lot that all of the owners don't know.” He said, “like what.” You sat up. “this house has many secret tunnels , the first owner who built this house was a bit of a maze lover , so he built a bunch of tunnels under ground.” He said. “And some of them have rooms?” you asked. “more like and entire underground house.” He said.

“How do i access it?” He sat up , holding your hand. “Do not go searching for it.” He said. “Why not?” You said. “Because the first owner wasn't just obbsesed with the labyrinth, but he was also a bit of a nutjob.” He said. “He also built secret tunnels that would lead to no where , but would trap you inside and you can't get out— ones so the ground could easily become unstable and you could get hurt.” He said. “Promise me you won't go looking, promise me.” you saw the concern look on his face , deciding not to stress him further. “Fine I won't go looking for the passage ways.” He looked into your eyes. “What can you tell if I'm lying or not?” He nodded. “Well smartass we can in fact tell when you're lying , that's how I know you're telling the truth.” he kissed your pouty lips. “It's best you don't go around getting hurt , if you die we can all feel it.”

Jake left after making sure you were in a deep sleep; locking up the house, something you always forgot to do , so he took it into his own hands to do so— turning the lights off , making his way through the tunnels back to where he'd wait until morning when he knew you were about to get up and start his day with you again.

you sat up in your bed , looking around the dark room. “Jake?” You rubbed your eyes , a blurry figure appearing in front of you. “Jake?” You squinted, “is that you?” He nodded , holding his hand out. “Come with me.” You held your hand out , getting out of bed , where he waited. He took a hold of your hands. “Follow me.”

“Where are you taking me?” You asked. “You wanted to see where we stayed right?” He asked. “Well I'm taking you.” You were confused. “You told me it was dangerous.” He looked back at you. “alone? yes, but you're with me me, would I ever put you in a dangerous love?” He wouldn't , you knew that he wouldn't. “No” he smiled. “Then keep walking.”

And that's what you did, following him down to the base of the house , where he guided you to a wall , pushing on the wall. “just go right through there.” He went first holding your hand , guiding you through the tunnels, lit with torches. “Just a little further love.”

You finally made it to the door , he pointed. “There.” He said. “open the door love.” You were about to reach for the door; turning back to him. “Go ahead.” As you reached for the door , you heard a yell— no a call of your name, it was jake; but how could that be if he was right there with you , and his mouth wasn't moving; in fact he was smiling. “Guess he's right on time.” The boy in front of you said. “what?” His mouth went flat. “Maybe next time.” He said. “Wake up.”

Your eyes suddenly shot open, it felt like all the air came rushing back to your lungs. “y/n!” His arms were wrapped around you. “huh?” Your head felt dizzy. “I told you to never come looking for these tunnels.” He held your shoulders , shaking you. “you promised you wouldn't come looking for these tunnels and you were sleepwalking.” He seemed so scared, you tried to explain but he wasn't having it. “Let's get you back to your room.” He said.

“You don't understand, you almost opened one that could've killed you.” He said , you sat on your bed. “But you're the one that guided me there , you told me you were gonna show me.” You said , he shook his head. “No I didn't , why would i guide you to one that was gonna kill you?” He said, he had a point. “But he looked just like you.”

“He did?” He asked. “Yeah , just like you.” He thought about it for just a split second , his eyes filling with rage. “What's wrong?” You reached for his hand , but he shot up to the floor. “I have to go.” He said. “Where?” You asked. “Jake where are you— just go back to sleep, I'll see you in the morning.” Was all he said , before leaving out— like hell you were going to sleep.

meanwhile Jake was on a mission; to find him, pushing the door open. “Sunghoon!” He shouted. “Where the fuck are you.” He was livid, walking throughout the house to find him. “sunghoon!”

“What?” The boy emerged from his own room. “what the hell is your problem?” Jake shoved the boy. “You could've kill her.” He bellowed , sunghoon nodded; the shrug barely phasing him. “you're right I could've but I didn't , did I?” He tilted his head to the side. “shes safe no? you got to her in time.” Jake couldn't believe his brother would be this heartless ; he wasn't always like this. “if you don't like her then leave her alone.” Jake said. “be like jay then , don't bother her.” He said.

“No.” he folded his arms, waking towards the boy. “I want her to take the necklace off , I want her to break the bond.” He said. “Leave this place , leave us alone.” He said, “I don't want to deal with her family anymore.” Jake knew he had his reasons; but this didn't mean he could do this to you. “she's not like her , I promise.” but sunghoon wasn't listening , already checked out. “maybe if you just got— i don't care, just cause your pussy whipped doesn't mean anything to me.” He said. “she's as good as dead in my eyes.”

You actually don't see Jake the next morning; which doesn't worry you at first; until he doesn't show up in the afternoon either— he told you he'd be back , and then the way he left abruptly. “Jake?” You called out , but got no answer. you got up , you couldn't wait for him today ; you needed to go into town.

“Hey it's you again.” You smiled seeing kai; the cute cashier standing at the register. “was starting to think you left.” He said , packing all your things up. “no , just don't really get out much.” He nodded. “understandable , driving into town all the time could be a handful.” He said. “Your grandmother never came into town , actually i haven't seen your cousins in a while.”

Cousin? you didn't have a cousin , you're mother didn't have any siblings. “Oh you're talking about jake.” Knowing what you knew about your grandmother she probably did use them as her slaves. “long black hair, kinda like a golden retriever?” He laughed , sitting your last bag in the cart. “Golden retriever?” He said. “No , absolutely not, his hair was short and black.” he could sense your confusion. “sunghoon I think his name was.” — sunghoon? jake said he didn't leave the house. “oh sunghoon , yeah.” you chuckled. “he went home to his family” he nodded. “figured.” he said. “he didn't talk much , and when he did, it was cold and sorta murderous.”

he walked you to your car; helping you put your groceries in the trunk. “thank you so much kai.” He nodded , smiling. “No problem.” He awkwardly shifted on the balls of his feet. “Is there something else?” You questioned. “Would you like the to get a drink sometime?” He said. “With you?” you asked. “Y-yeah , it's fine if you're busy though.” He stuttered. “No I'm not busy any time soon.” you said he smiled. “how about saturday?” you nodded. “sure.”

you bring all the bags inside. “Jake!” You shouted , closing the door. “Jake where are you?” You walked around looking for him. “I went to the grocery store.” You looked into the different rooms. “Jake?” nowhere , it was like he vanished, you walked into your room , the door to your closet open, making you smile. “Jake?” you open the door; empty — except it wasn't fully empty, there was a door. “huh?”

you moved the shoes , pushing the door; it opened. “Is this how he was leaving?” you asked yourself , shaking your head. “I'm gonna kill him again , if I find him.” you looked down the tunnel , another opening; wide open and you could see inside , a room. “seems safe.” You walked down the dimly lit tunnel , stopping once you reached the door. You pushed it open , walking it. “Jake?”

it was a room, a red and black room; the bed right in the mirror , it was almost a mirror to yours; Jake had nice taste— it was actually better than yours. “That's because it's not jake's room.” you heard an almost familiar, but unfamiliar voice. “and that's not how he enters your room.” He said , you were almost scared to turn around , you could feel the room become colder. “you're sunghoon.”

you turned around, and there he was, just like kai described— expect scarier cause he was right in front of you. “you kept calling for him and calling for him, it was annoying me.” he said. “I can hear you.” The door slammed behind you making you jump forward. “Your voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard.” he stepped closer to you. “i hate constantly hearing it in my head.” you stepped back. “then dont listen to it, I'm looking for Jake.” you turned to open the door; only for him to slam it again. “you think its that fucking easy?” He scoffed. “You are just as dumb as I thought you were.”

he didn't even know you, so why was he insulting you? “it was you.” You said. “You're the one who made me sleep walk— the one who tried to kill me.” he scoffed. “Trust me if I was trying to kill you, you'd be dead already.” He said. “sending me into a fucking tunnel to have my head caved in by rocks didn't seem like you were trying to be welcoming”

“Oh you have a mouth on you.” he said smiling. “Gonna make killing you so much better.” He said. “st-stay.” He interrupted “stay away? or what? you gonna call jakey?” he mockingly said. “I want you to take the necklace off,” he said. “Leave this house, hide it somewhere your parents won't find it.” he said. “If your mother doesn't find it , I won't have to slave for your disgusting family anymore, and when they die we'll get a new bond.” He said, “or I can kill you.” you can feel his breathing on your neck. “Jake can't stop me.” he whispered in your ear. “I can hear your heart racing.”

your breath hitched, he smirked. “Is the thought of me killing you turning you on,” he said. “are you really that sick of a person , not only do you fuck demons , you fuck demons who want to kill you as well. “ you felt his hand coming up to your back , pushing down on it. “st-st” you stuttered. “I bet if I fucked you right now you'd take it.” he growled. “Let little jakey walk in on me making you take my cock.” you gasp , his hands coming up to your hair yanking it back. “or I snap your neck now.”

he let you go; pulling the door open. “now get the fuck out; and think about what I said.” he said; you took off back down the tunnel entering back through the closet, slamming the hidden door closed , standing in your closet , trying to catch your breath— he said alot of stuff; what the fuck were you supposed to think about. “yn?” you heard jake's voice outside your door. “jake?” you pushed open the closet door. “where the hell have you been? I've called you 50 times.”

“I gave you a break, you seemed pretty scared,” he said. “Why are you coming out of the closet?” he asked, he saw the look in your eyes. “you found the passageway into sunghoons room?” you nodded. “and he was in there.” you nodded again. “I'm so sorry yn.” he stood up, hugging you. “I don't know why he's like that now , he actually wasn't that bad.” feeling your heartbeat. “What did he say?”

“N-nothing.” You said. “You're shaking like a leaf and your heartbeat is going a mile a minute, he must've said something.” you didn't know what to tell him , so you only told him what you thought he wanted to hear. “He said he'd kill me.”

telling him everything except the “moment” you both shared. “that's it?” He said. “that's all he told you?” you nodded. “Y-yeah.” you said, he sighed. “Why does he hate my family so much?” you asked, he rubbed his face with his hands. “your grandmother really fucked with him; sunghoon was always a little fucked in the head , but she made did something he swore to never do again , and he couldn't stop her , so before she made him do it again—” he stopped , continuing on again. “What did he do?” you asked. “he stopped her.” that's all he said , before stopping. “He killed her.”

That's all jake would tell you that day; and the next few days it was like that— you trying to force it out him and him telling you no; and you tried everything, even withholding sex; which never lasted long because jake was persuasive little shit.

Eventually you gave up; until he came to you again— you knew it was a dream again; but he wasn't trying to trick you this time; it wasn't him trying to disguise himself as Jake, it was actually him. “So you chose to die?” He asked , you couldn't move your legs, you could only sit up. “All you had to do was take the necklace off,” he said. “is it because of jake isn't it?” you felt his finger on your ankle. “would you miss fucking little jakey?” he mocked you again.

“Are you getting turned on again?” his finger dragging up your thigh. “you didn't tell him earlier, why didn't he want him to find out you got wet from me threatening you earlier?” he made his way to your thigh, squeezing hard, you whimpered, his face was angry. “you keep asking questions.” he dug his fingers into your thigh. “you want to know why?” he said. “Why I killed her?” you couldn't move anyway so it was an obvious rhetorical question. “because she was a murderer,” he spat. “and I hate those the most.”

What was he talking about? you wanted to say something, but you couldn't; you wanted to ask him, but you couldn't open your mouth. “stop asking questions about me.” he finally let your leg go. “Next time I snap your fucking neck.” and just like that he was gone— you shot up feeling your legs , looked down at them; no bruises, breathless you looked around your room; everything was normal. except the fucking adrenaline wouldn't stop running through your veins, and the obvious ache in between your legs.

when you finally came to, you were livid; he had no right to be upset with you; you didn't murder anybody, so why was he so upset with you? why'd he want to kill you so badly? and who the hell did she kill; that really wasn't on the top of your list now, finding the murderous man. “sunghoon!”

your voice was booming throughout the house. “I know you're listening, you're all always fucking listening.” you yanked at your hair frustrated. “so fucking answer me , sunghoon!” you felt like you were going crazy , screaming into the air like a lunatic. “what?” you turned around, and there he was. “I told you to le—” before he could finish , all you saw was red , before raising your hand , slapping the demon across the face. “What the fuck?”

“how fucking dare you?” you hissed. “whatever my grandmother did to you doesn't have shit to do with me , so don't you ever interfere with my dreams again.” you said. “and I'm not taking the necklace off , your little scare tactic doesn't scare me anymore.” he scoffed. “scare tactic?” He said. “That's what you think it is?” you could almost feel the heat bouncing off his body. “I said next time I will snap your neck.” before you could get a word out , your words were cut short; his hand wrapping around your neck. “I meant it.”

you could see his eyes flash red; he finally was gonna kill you. “I told you to take off the necklace and leave,” he said. “you should've listened.” He heard your heartbeat going faster, he wanted to do it, end it before he could start— but he couldn't.” He let you go , you gasped falling to the floor. “Stay away from me, stop calling out my name,” he said. “He's here.” before you could say something he was gone and Jake was here , ready to console you.

“you almost killed her!” Jake wanted to snap the boy's neck; that wouldn't help he was already dead. “but he didn't.” sunghoon sat on the bed. “and why didn't you sunghoon?” he sighed. “because she's innocent.” he said. “and?” he looked at Jake. “I'm not a killer , I don't kill innocent people.”

You rub the sleep from your eyes; sitting up, rubbing your sore neck. “you're gonna be fine.” a voice made you look up. “su-sunghoon.” you stuttered. “I'm not gonna hurt you calm down.” he said. “You tried to choke me.” You said. “yeah well now that you're not a murderer i have no reason to.” He said. “That's not how you apologize.” you said. “because it wasn't an apology.” you both stared into each other's eyes, before he coughed. “go to bed.” you tried to say something, but before you could blink— he was gone. “what?” then you realized, it wasn't a dream— he was really in your room.

you don't see him again— and soon saturday rolls around; and your date with kai. “you really don't have to go.” Jake followed you around the house as you got ready. “Well I already agreed , so yes I do.” you said. “why'd you agree in the first place?” you turned to him. “Because he's the first human I've come across since I came up here.” he pouted. “I can come with you.” you stood with your hand on your hips. “its supposed to be a date.” you said. “why would I bring you on a date?" he frowned, "why would you go on a date?" you pinched his cheek. “I'll only be gone for a few hours.”

you met kai at the bar; he was waiting at a table for your arrival. “kai!” you waved. “hey.” he stood up, hugging you. “you made it.” he let you go. “Of course I did.” you followed suit. “order anything you want , it's on me tonight.” He said. “You don't have to.” he shook his head. “Think of it as a very late welcome gift.”

“you're really pretty, you know that?” the red faced boy said. “I wanted to say that ever since I saw you first.” he was drunk , slurring his words. “but I was nervous.” he pouted, it was cute; it reminded you of jake. “but I was so happy when you said yes to going out with me,” he said. “I'm glad,” you said , and you genuinely were, but your mind was elsewhere; it was on sunghoon. why was he on your mind? he tried to kill you, you tried to shake it away.

“Are you okay?” he asked , both of you walking out. “yeah, are you okay?” you laughed , watching him stumble. “Will you be able to drive?” he shook his head. “I live down the road with my brothers, I'm fine, are you okay to drive?” you only had one drink , knowing you had to drive. “Yeah I'm fine,” he nodded. “Can I see you again?” your mind kept shifting , from him to jake— to sunghoon. “We'll see.”

you drove back to the house , pulling into the driveway. “Jake?” you call out , not getting an answer; but a noise , from the kitchen. “Jake?” there was the sound of glass shattering. “Jake , I told you to turn the light on , you've broken three of the mugs.” you threw your bag down , walking into the kitchen. “Jake get out of the ki—.” you froze in your spot. It wasn't Jake standing over the shards of glass; it was sunghoon. “I broke it , cleaned it.” he said. “wh-why are you here?” you asked. “Because you've been calling out for me for an hour , it started to get annoying.” He said. “I thought I said don't call out for me.”

“I didn't— you have been, you've been thinking about me, I heard it , felt it.” he said. “It's annoying.” you frowned. “Well you try being choked and then finding out you can't escape the thing trying to kill you, and then the thing trying to kill you is standing over a broken mug telling you to clean it.” you said. “That's annoying as well.” his face is stoic , but so is yours; staring at each other , both of you filling up with anger again. “I don't like you.”

you scoffed. “feeling is mutual.” he stepped closer , you stepped back. “i-im not scared of you.” He smirked. “I can hear your heartbeat dummy.” he said. “It's late out , why are you coming in late?” He had the nerve to ask you questions. “what's it matter to you?” he shrugged. “you smell like alcohol.” He scrunched his nose up in disgust. “you were out drinking? was it with a guy , little jakey won't like that.” it was your turn to scoff. “jakey or you?”

“What you do isn't my concern,” he said. “says the one standing in my kitchen , asking where I've been , seems like you like to make anything I do your concern.” you said, he stepped closer. “because I have no choice.” He said , standing over you now. “All because of that stupid necklace , as long as you're wearing it, I can hear what you're doing, see you.” he stopped. “feel what you're feeling.” your breath hitched as you felt his hand go up to your hair. “It's killing me.” you felt a tug on it, you whimpered. “i can't fucking escape you.”

he couldn't stop himself; his lips attaching to your neck with quickness, pushing you against the kitchen counter. “su-sunghoon.” he yanked on your head back. “don't speak.” He continued to attack your neck. “don't fucking speak.”

his hand gripped your waist; it most likely was gonna leave a bruise, but you didn't care. after leaving your neck covered in bruises, he pulled away. “On your knees.” he pushed you down. “gotta shut you up.” he groaned , unzipping his pants, pulling his underwear down just a bit to free his cock from its confinements , slapping against his abdomen. “open.”

you don't know why you were doing this; he tried to kill you; you should be scared of him— but that all seemed to not matter as he pushed his cock into yours mouth. “fuck.” he groaned, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “suck it , suck my fucking dick.” he growled. “wanna fuck your face.”

tears streaming down your face; drooling as he abused your throat. “so fucking messy -fuck- i can hear all the dirty thoughts on your little head.” he cursed. “so dirty, letting someone who hurt you fuck your tiny little throat.” he moaned, your thighs tightening together. “you're horny I can feel it.” he said. “need someone fu-fuck you.” he held your hair once more , pulling you off his cock. “not yet.” he pulled you off him, stroking his hard on. “gonna make you want it.” he said. “fuck you.” you spat; your mind was everywhere, you pissed at him— more importantly, you were horny. “still running that mouth.” he cursed, stroking faster. “see how fucking stupid you look -fuck- trying to be pissed at me , covered in my cum.” he growled. “fuck I'm cumming.” you felt his cum hitting your cheeks , tapping your lips. “So messy.”

You woke up the next morning; everything running through your head , you groaned. “yeah it happened.” Jake said. “I wish I could make it disappear from my mind.” you looked at the boy. “You two are sexually bonded to each other in a weird way,” he said. “like super weird , you hate each other so much , but you also want to fuck each other.” You stared at him. “i'm not jealous, I know our bond is stronger.” you rolled your eyes. “hey I'm not the one who fucked the demon who tried to kill me.” he shrugged. “I hate you.”

He was back two days later; you were sitting on your bed , when he pushed open your closet door. “Did I say you can use that, did I?” you said. “Yeah well I did.” he said, sitting down on the bed. “you were thinking about me again.” you stared at him. “Who did my grandmother make you kill?” His face dropped. “I’m not talking to anyone about that , especially you.” he said. “Why?” he said. “cause it was my grandmother.”

“You want to know? really?” he said , you nodded, “I do.” “It was your grandfather,” his voice was laced with bitterness. “she made me kill your grandfather.” you furrowed your eyebrows. “No you're lying, grandfather died of a heart attack.” you said. “Did he? or was it because I crushed his heart?” you gulped, he was looking you dead in the eyes. “why?” you asked. “She was tired of him , just wanted him gone , and she couldn't do it,” He said. “no , why did you kill him?” you said. “my told me he was the kindest man she'd ever known.”

“He was,” he said. “I couldn't do anything about it.” you scoffed. “So you just had to kill him?” he huffed. “You wouldn't understand,” he said. “Yeah I do, you're a murderer.” you could see his eyes turn red. “I'm not a murderer.” you curled back against the headboard. “I was a slave to her , to that fucking necklace— to who ever owns it.” He said. “That's my punishment.”

“punishment?” you questioned, “what kind of stupid punishment is that?” he closed his eyes , before continuing on. “As punishment for killing innocent people , I became a slave,” he said. “They killed her , she did nothing wrong and they killed her.” His fit was tightly closed. “who?” you asked. “Her name was mina.” he said. “she was my first love, it was supposed to be a robbery, we both were supposed to be out, but she didn't feel like it , so she stayed.”

“So you sold your soul like Jake?” you asked. “But he isn't a slave?” he scoffed. “If you think watching the love of your life die for the past 100 years is considered good , then you're just as crazy as I thought.” He said. “I didn't sell my soul , I died and went to hell.” he said. “After they killed her , I went crazy; I wanted revenge.” he said. “So I found them , all of them— and I killed them,” he said. “But you said they were trying to rob you, so they were not innocent.”

“they weren't, but there was this rage inside , I killed everyone in that house that night; including myself,” he said. “when I got to hell , he forced me to live through killing 2 innocent people and myself and over.” he said. “until I was begging on my knees for him to stop.” he said. “I told him I'd do anything.” and he turned me into a demon, and sent me here, forced to live out eternity as a slave for the people to whoever found that necklace, in the house I killed those people in.”

“So you killed her?” you asked. “When I'm told to do something, it's like I can't control my body— she forced me to kill an innocent person,” he said. “I was punished that night, he said if I ever killed any innocent person again I would be punished,” he said. “how were you punished?” “That's not important.” He said. “After that I thought she'd stop , then I started hearing her thoughts about killing her caregiver. Her caregiver had a child , 2 daughters and no husband, and she wanted me to kill her, for no reason. I couldn't wait until she told me and I couldn't stop , so I had to do it.” he said , staring off into space. “I had to kill her , so no one else got hurt,” he said, before staring at you. “You look like her when she was younger, I guess I really just hated her that bad.” you didn't say anything, just sat there in silence.

“don't look at me like that,” he said. “with pity, I don't want your pity.” He stood up. “I only told you so you'd stop asking jake.” He said. “I don't need your sympathy.” You sat up fully. “I wasn't going give you any.” You said. “You still tried to kill me.” You said. “and how do i know you aren't lying , demons don't really have a good track record of being truthful.” he grew frustrated, lifting his shirt up. “because this is what happened when I killed your grandfather.” Three long scratches on his chest. “This is what happens when I kill an innocent person.”

“yo-you can't heal them?” he huffed. “don't you think I would if I could?” he scoffed. “What the hell am I doing here? explaining myself to you.” he went to walk away. “no.” you said. “sit down.” He looked at you with anger on his face. “I said sit down.” he moved to the bed, sitting down. “I don't want to be here with you.” He said. “Too bad, because I'm not letting you leave , and I'm keeping the necklace on.” before you could say anything else, he was yanking your legs down , pinning them to the bed. “Fine then I'll do what I came here to do in the first place, the real reason you keep thinking about me.” he climbed on top of you. “to fuck you.”

he pulled down your sleep shorts , leaving you in your underwear. “open your fucking legs.” he growled , pulling your underwear down. “so fucking wet , do you get off on the fact that I don't like you?” you smirked. “wipe that smirk off your face before I shove my dick back down your throat.” his eyes were red , but filled with lust; not anger. “Please , you enjoy that more than I did, I remember you moaning and groaning too well.” He gripped your cheeks. “slut.”

Slapping the inside of your thighs, holding them open. “God you're dripping, you want me to fuck you that bad?” He pulled his cock from his pants. “just hurry up and fuck me.” he roughly shoved himself inside you, both of you moaning out. “shit!” he moaned, moving his hips , holding down your waist , keeping you still as he abused your cunt. “tight fucking cunt , sucking in my cock like a slut.” his hand coming up to your neck. “fu-fuck , please faster.” You moaned , his hips speeding up.

you were so close to cumming, you could feel it— then you felt him slip out of you. “Kee— I know what you're doing, trying to get your way.” he said. “I will gag you to keep that mouth shut if I have to.” he flipped you over; your ass up in the air, pushing your head in the pillow. “stop trying to tell me what to do.” he slammed back into you , you tell as he slapped your ass. “Just shut up and take my cock.”

his movements were lethal; his hip snapping against your ass , watching it bounce back. “fuck sunghoon.” You screamed. “Please let me cum.” he moaned. “fuck, fuck go ahead cum.” he squeezed your ass. “cum all over my cock.” your legs shook as you came , eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you through your orgasm. “shit I'm gonna cum , I'm gonna cum inside.” He groaned , “take my fucking cum.” you felt his cum filling you up , his hips twitching as he came. “sh-shit.” he pulled out of you.

“I'm not gonna make you murder anyone.” You said. “I don't think I ever wanted anyone dead.” he looked at you. “Well there was talia in second grade who took my pink crayon.” You thought about it further. “and a few of my ex's , but I wouldn't act on it or force someone else to do it.” you said. “and how do I know that?” He said. “you have to trust me, just how I have to trust that you won't snap and kill me.” You said. “you’re safe for now,” he said. “I can live with that.” you said. “but the next time you ever try to tell me what to do when im fucking you, I will gag you.” you rolled your eyes. “whatever.”

“I'm leaving,” he said. “Jake should be here soon , and I don't want to see him right after this , he'll be sulky for days.” you smiled. “he's cute isn't he?.” he scrunched his nose in disgust. “no, no he is not.” you pouted , then spoke up. “was it you?” you asked. “what are you talking about?” he said. “The one in the mirror on my first with the necklace?” he laughed. “the last thing that day wasn't fucking you or seeing you naked.” he said. “It was murdering you.”

“asshole.” you said, he smirked. “it was jay.” He said. “jay, jake told me he hasn't shown himself for the past 200 years.” he shrugged.

“i guess you're special , congratulations.”

TAGLIST. @deobitful @in-somnias-world @darlingz99 @luvitaria @lost-fantasy @lostinneocity @nalenhypen @heeshlove @kirinaa08 @strxwbloody @ryn000 @neosexuals @sakanelli-afc @yizhoutv @capri-cuntz @lilyuwon @criminalseung @hanhaeji @eggomi @serenijiny @luvvsnae @jakesfurry

©️LUVYENI

[yeahspider]

stretch my hands ❄️

Ve’s note - omg first post of 2024 ! and ofc it’s a fluffy bang chan fic . sfw it’s all soft and warm . sparsely proofread . short and sweet ! enjoy <3

a warm light in his eyes is what woke chris up . which was weird because it was usually his alarm clock . the sun greeting him before his phone screen was strange . with his terrible sleep schedule it’s usually him kissing the sun good morning . but not today . no today he was off . no work . no meetings . no deadlines . he was free for 24 hours .

stretching his arms out he blindly searched for you . but all he was met with was an empty space . sadness creeped up in his chest . chris was certain you both were off today . schedules rarely lining up together he had thanked last luck for allowing him a reprieve from endless days . but you weren’t here .

a smell coming from the kitchen offended his senses . no . there was no way you were trying to cook . emphasis on trying . he jumped out of bed . almost tripping on his shirt that you discarded for him last night . stepping out the room and following the sound of frustration chris made his way to the kitchen . which could barely be called that .

he finally found you . dressed in his shorts that you swore you didn’t have . and you were knee deep into the mess which was probably supposed to be breakfast . chris watched as you frantically ran around , adding this and that to a recipe that he assumed was pancake batter . next to the stove was a stack of burnt pancakes . your previous tries obviously not proving successful .

“ahh cmon where is the fucking milk i just had it a few seconds ago…” he heard you mutter to yourself . it seemed you had yet to notice his presence as you mumbled out nonsense to yourself . a habit he found endearing and not concerning at all . chris looked to his right and found the milk you had been looking for and thought it was time to officially help you out . he grabbed it and went to hand it to you until you suddenly turned and screamed in his face . standing there stunned chris just laughed at you . which he could tell irritated you slightly .

“why would you walk up on me like that chris you know im jumpy god you made my heart drop to my ass” he heard you say . which only caused him to laugh more . he loved how jumpy you were . your reaction being priceless everytime .

“well maybe if someone wasn’t acting like a mad scientist in our kitchen she would’ve noticed me.” he said to you as he kiss the frown on your lips . chris could never find you anything but cute . your antics made his heart full .

“mad scientist ? god forbid wanting to do something nice for my hardworking super sexy husband .”

“nothing nicer than waking up to a destroyed kitchen.”

“okay you know what christopher -“

he stopped whatever insult that’s was going to come out your mouth with another kiss and a smile . running his hands up and down your sides you calm you . you both knew that it was all jokes .

“what if i order something for us instead, yeah ? i’ll help you clean the kitchen and then we can eat and lounge in bed all day.” he suggested as you tapped your chin pretending to think his offer over .

“that sounds a whole lot better than eating burnt pancakes for breakfast . deal ! ”

[eempxth]

The Great War - Taylor Swift.

a bakugou katsuki x reader oneshot

angst/slight comfort at the end.

not proofread, 904 words

this is the first time im writing again! sorry guys DD:

The war was something everyone wanted to forget. The devastation, loss, grief, destruction, and desperation was something that was better off kept deep in the back of the mind. Many were still on the grueling process of moving on from the whole ordeal. You were one of them. As an empath, you deeply felt everyone’s emotions just from the looks on their faces. Their losses were your losses too. Looking at your classmates’ bruised and bleeding bodies, people who lost their loved ones, the damage it did to the country, you wished, with all your soul, that the war didn’t have to happen.

Your physical body was painful as well. It was hell. Feeling muscles you never knew torn, bones cracked or broken. Everything was sore.

It was all the same for Katsuki. He doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper night’s sleep in months. He kept getting flashbacks on what happened, how his injuries hurt, but didn’t hinder him from defeating all for one. How he was thankful that pro hero Edgeshot basically brought him back to life, how he heard that that damn Icyhot beat his brother, and you. How you were there with him every step of the way.

***

Class 1A was tense, and of course they were. Gearing up, they didn’t know whether they were going to survive or not. Due to shortage of heroes, mere students were forced to fight alongside the veterans, needing all the manpower they could get. They trusted the plan, of course. But alongside the doom, there was a spark of determination to win.

“Katsuki?”

A grunt came in response, a sign permitting you to continue.

“I vow, I will always be yours, if we survive this.”

His eyes widened, his cheeks turned slightly red, it was barely there, but his overall expression was unreadable. You turned away, scared he might turn you down for some reason. Almost taking a step to walk away, you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, a nose nuzzling the side of your neck.

“Fucking dumbass, saying shit like that. I will be all yours too. If we survive.”

Katsuki felt a faint giggle vibrating your body.

You, of course, were grouped with Katsuki and Izuku, tasked with tiring down Tomura Shigaraki. It went terribly wrong from the start, since Izuku wasn’t there, as he was meant to be. You felt it all throughout the fight, but whenever your muscles were tiring, your mentality fading, all you had to do was look at Katsuki.

You admired him ever since his character development started showing, and you made that pretty clear. He respected your strength as well, secretly grateful you were there with him.

But then he got injured. You pushed, overused your quirk, fought until you felt you would puke your organs out, felt your body would suddenly drop to the floor. Because he was doing the same thing. Your heart dropped seeing him fall on the floor. You sprinted towards him, dragged his body to a safe place until Izuku showed up. An attack made its way toward you, and you pushed Katsuki aside, and crimson red blood spewed out of you. His eyes widened, oh, you didn’t expect him to still be conscious.

After Edgeshot’s miracle, you both pushed your limit, your bodies almost moving on autopilot, with a mantra in your head. Defeat Shigaraki. Both of you slumped the ground eventually, with exhaustion and relief, as Izuku delivered the final blow.

Your body was calling, lulling you to sleep, as your vision wavered. Katsuki seemed to be experiencing the same thing, a decent distance from you. Using all your remaining strength, you forced your body, one last time, to crawl to him, touch him, hold his hand.

Once he realized what you were doing, he too, wanted to meet you in the middle. Both of you, crawling on the harsh, battered ground, desperate for the last piece of comfort and security. All the blood doesn’t matter. It was you. No one else.

Reaching for his hand, and him reaching for yours. That was all you remember before your vision blacked out.

**

At the back of UA, a memory garden was built. Columns of names on concrete walls were written, to remember the death, tragedy, and to remember the lives of these people. Heroes were given special mention. Walking around the garden, everything was silent. Not a word was spoken by either of you. Even if several months had already passed, the huge wound was yet to heal.

To your surprise, Katsuki was the first to break the silence.

“Oi.”

You whipped your head to face him, a tired, curious look on your face.

“Do you remember our promise?"

Confused, you ask. “What promise?”

“Agh, I swear I’ll kill you if you don’t fuckin remember. You were the one who started it.”

He went silent for a moment, as if thinking how to say it.

“I vowed, I would always be yours, if we survived the great war.”

He reached down to a bush, picked out a poppy, and placed it in your hair. His calloused fingertips so light, gentle, barely ghosting the surface of your head. A calm smile appeared on your face. A gentle grin appeared on his. You nodded, and echoed it.

“I vowed I will always be yours.”

[biancabi]

Jason: *Walking around the living room with a book until tripping over something*

Tim: *Lying on the ground being the "something" Jason tripped over*

Jason: What the fuck, Replacement?

Tim: Sleep is overrated and I don't need it!!

Jason: Of course, that clarifies everything. What do you think if we make the consumption of peanuts illegal too?

Tim: Actually that would be pretty fantastic-

Jason: No, I was being sarcastic. Why the hell are you on the ground?

Tim: I'm trying to test a theory about how inertia acts on bodies-

Jason: *Raising an eyebrow* You fell and you're too tired to get up, right?

Tim: ...

Tim: ....yes.

-

Jason: *Yelling* Can someone tell me why the hell the kitchen is covered in waffle batter everywhere??

Steph: *With a stack of fifty waffles at her side* We're making waffes, obviously

Jason: And you had to dirty Alfie's entire kitchen for that??

Steph: It's just a little disaster, he won't even notice.

Jason: He doesn't notice the flour on the floor, eggs on the windows and dough on the ceiling??

Steph: You're making it sound more serious than it is.

Jason: Don't fuck, goldie.

-

Jason: *Entering dramatically* Alright little bitches, which one of you takes my copy of Pride and Prejudice??

Dick: I haven't seen your book, littlewing

Duke: Don't you have like a ten copies of that book?

Jason: First, I have fifteen copies of Pride and Prejudice. Second, they took my special anniversary copy. So which one of you has it??

Dick: Are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?

Jason: No, I looked everywhere in this damn manor and it's NOT there.

Duke: Man, it's practically impossible for you to have covered the entire manor, I tried but I got tired after 5 hours. 5 HOURS!! AND I ONLY WENT THROUGH THE EAST WING.

Jason: THAT'S NOT THE POINT! WHO HAS MY BOOK?!

Dick: *Replying to Duke* I don't know, after getting lost in the hallways I never tried to navigate the manor again.

Jason: HEY! RESPOND BEFORE I START TAKING THE BULLETS OUT!

Duke: *Excited* What if there is some type of ghost or entity that is hidden in the hallways?

Dick: That wouldn't be so strange, I mean, this manor is very old.

Jason: IT DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE ANY DAMN GHOSTS. I WANT MY BOOK.

Duke: Just think about it, what if the ghost took your book??

Jason: *Taking out their guns* This is it, it's bullet time.

-

Bruce: Jason, could you explain to me why my living room is full of bullet holes?

Jason: Whoa, old man. If we think about it technically, everything is your fault.

Bruce: Pardon?

Jason: I think it's actually Alfred you should apologize to, but I guess I accept your apology.

Bruce: *Take a deep breath* Jason, how is this my fault?

Jason: *Moving his hands indifferently* I mean, if you hadn't adopted seven of us your living room wouldn't be covered in bullet holes. So technically it's your fault.

Bruce: ...

Jason: You know, you should have stopped at kid number two.

-

Jason: *Holding Damian by the neck like a kitten* Why the hell did you jump out of the batmobile? Were you even thinking???

Damian: *Squirming* I was trying to get out of the terrible experience of you driving alive. We almost crashed and died AGAIN.

Jason: Oi demon brat, Just so you know we almost collided because you jumped out the window suddenly.

Damian: This wouldn't have happened if I had been driving.

Jason: *Exasperated* Your feet can't even reach the brakes. How do you think-

*They both freeze when they hear police sirens, they look at each other and back at the crashed Batmobile.*

Jason: Did you know? Bruce doesn't need to know this.

Damian: This is the first time I agree with you Todd, we don't have to bother Father with little things.

Jason: *Escaping from the place* Yes yes yes, definitely

[darlingdekarios]

batter up.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 6,003 content: Negan Smith x f!reader, Savior!Negan, colorful language, canon-accurate violence, nsfw, smut [v fingering, f receiving oral, unprotected p in v, creampie, cockwarming], various kinks [praise, biting, spit, breeding]

it should have been obvious that batting lessons with Negan would end up like this.

You’d known exactly what your salacious tone indicated the moment the words had left your lips. 

“You ever gonna show me how you swing that bat of yours around, Negan?”

The drawl of his name from your mouth – your fuckin’ mouth like a sailor – ticked his lips upward into an amused smile, eyes regarding you up and down slowly. He leaned back in the chair he sat in, motioning with a finger for you to come closer before returning his attention to the object in question, a wet cloth removing remnants of blood and brains from the wood.

The chill down your spine should have been from fear. That was far from the case.

You were new. Shiny. You’d been alone for an impressive amount of time, and it had ruined your people skills. You were mostly quiet, kept to yourself, carried your weight for the group, and hardly anyone ever needed to talk to you. But when they did – hell hath no fury. You had a sharp tongue and little filter when that pretty mouth of yours did open. 

You found yourself in the presence of his laughter often when you spoke. You always got your way. You were quickly his favorite toy.

He wondered – often – about the life you had before everything went to hell in a handbasket. He wondered what job you had, what your damn hobbies were, if you had a husband, maybe some kids runnin’ around. It wasn’t his business. He never asked. 

“You ever gonna ask nicely?”

You sat atop the table in front of him, crossing your legs slowly, dramatically, temptingly, relishing in the way his eyes dragged across your legs in the short shorts you’d been wearing in the July heat for a moment as you twisted your upper body toward him, leaning your weight on one arm. 

His hand that rested on the surface twitched toward yours. 

“I’d love it if you’d be sweet enough to show me how good you are with that bat,” you spoke lowly, eyes burning into his. His pupils blew wider as you spoke each word. You wished you could be close enough to see that each time you spoke. “Pretty please.”

It was a wonder to this new world that he hadn’t fucked you yet. 

“Gonna take patrol later,” he began, eyes finding yours once again. With wide eyes and semi-pouted lips you were practically begging him. It was dangerous how he’d give you whatever you wanted. “You can come with me if you promise not to get yourself killed.”

You smiled, fingers sliding closer to his, lightly gliding over the back of his hand feather light. You noticed the hitch in his breath, the temptation to point it out almost too strong to ignore. You opted to give the man before you a pass. 

“Guess somebody better keep me safe then, huh?”

“Like you’re not capable of taking care of yourself.”

He knew he’d fallen into some kinda trap when his response brought your signature, mischievous grin. He was perfectly content – at least for the moment – not to even try to climb out. 

“Oh, I’m capable,” you responded carefully, flipping his hand over to run your fingers over his palm. His hands were large – much larger than yours – and rough. Battle scarred. It wasn’t the first time you’d fantasized about how they felt. “But sometimes it’s just so much nicer for someone else to take care of you.”

It didn’t take him deciphering a fucking code or something to know exactly what the double meaning behind your words was. His self-control was stretching terribly thin – the thread holding it together would snap soon. 

An opening door behind you made you jump back to your feet, removing yourself to a reasonable distance before you were joined by the company. His right hand entered the room a moment after, and you offered Negan another smile before turning to exit. He called a reminder to you before you disappeared.

“Meet me tonight and we’ll go have some fun.”

Whatever his words meant, you were certain the sentiment was true.

“Thought you were standin’ me up.”

He always knew when you approached, even when no one else could seem to hear your footsteps – it sparked curiosity in you to ponder exactly when he’d become so familiar with you, and what else he’d memorized. You dropped down from the wall you walked across directly behind him, boots landing on the ground with a thud. 

“That’d be stupid of me,” you replied, circling him to stand in front of him. It was seldom you stood this close to him – the fact that he towered over you only making you want to be closer. “Don’t wanna make the big man angry.”

He caught the subtle shake to your voice and smirked, dimples on full display. Fuck him. 

“Smart woman,” he complimented, his voice a little too honey-thick for you to handle. You caught yourself momentarily breathless, his eyes now burning into yours. “Now, I know you took care of yourself real well while you were alone. But tonight, the first rule, you’re with me – and outside you’ve gotta listen. I don’t wanna hear that pretty mouth of yours run.”

You only smiled up at him, looking up into his eyes between your lashes as you blinked languidly, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. You nodded in agreement – he remained transfixed on your lips.

“You’re the boss,” you asserted, zipping up the tattered leather jacket you wore to shield from the night air and offer extra protection against bites. He loved when you pulled the jacket on, and often craved to see you swallowed in his instead. He only smiled at your response – he knew you’d run your mouth at some point still.

“Second rule,” he started, eyes intense. “I don’t want you more than an arm’s length away.”

“My arm length or yours?”

Infuriating. You didn’t even make it through the rules without breaking rule one – and what made it more annoying was the fact he was still amused by it.  

“We’ll say yours since they’re shorter,” he replied, reaching to grasp one of your hands and raise your arm upward, stepping closer to demonstrate the distance he desired. You took a step even closer than that – closer would be fine, too.

“Yes, sir,” you replied lowly, tilting your head slightly as you gazed up at him, melting at the feeling of his hand engulfing yours. 

He tried to ignore the rush of heat that spread across his body.

“We’re going into the woods. Don’t want you to get lost,” he tried to continue, to ignore the name you’d called him. The feeling that fluttered in his stomach insisted to be acknowledged. 

“You big softie. Let’s go,” you replied, turning to face the gate and motioning to the guard to let you through. You turned your head to glance up at him and offer that playful smile again, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Teach me how to be scary.”

“Oh, you’re plenty scary,” he replied as the two of you exited. “Just gonna teach ya how to do it with a bat.”

It was mostly a comfortable silence as the two of you made your way through the thick trees. He didn’t go far – maybe a 2-mile radius was all it took for him to feel the two of you had covered enough ground. 

You watched intently, biting at your bottom lip several times as he swung the bat to handle walkers coming your way. By the twelfth one he’d began to show off, pulling his jacket off to reveal the flexing muscles in the arms of his blood-stained white t-shirt as he swung Lucille over his head with a particularly hard landing blow. 

You weren’t sure he ever looked sexier than when splashes of red painted his face.

It got easier the longer you went on, the conversation flowing between the two of you – the flirtatious nature always lurking beneath, begging to be unleashed fully. The two of you got so comfortable even talking about your lives before was an option. It all came back to the star – to where you two were now.

“Been with us a few weeks now.”

“Approaching week eight,” you replied, adjusting the strap of the gun you still wore slung over your back. Negan had already remarked that you didn’t need to bring it along. 

“Remind me how long you were alone before that,” he feigned a normal amount of interest, though inside he was congratulating himself for finally getting the answers he wanted. 

“Eight months, give or take,” your reply caused him to whistle lowly, an appreciative sound. It was impressive to be alone for any amount of time, let alone eight months. You’d been rough when he’d found you – but even he didn’t know just how that time had passed for you. “Stopped keepin’ count.”

“You were alone all winter?”

“Uh huh,” you confirmed, glancing up at him to briefly meet his gaze. He shook his head, huffing out a deep breath as he thought about your words. It had been hell for him from the start – for everyone, really…but you’d been living a different nightmare altogether.  

“You’re an impressive woman, you know that?” he drawled, your cheeks heating up over his flirtatious affection. Even as he walked he focused his attention on you – it was too much, and yet just his eyes on you wasn’t nearly enough. “Who’s the last person you were with?” 

You paused, but not for long – not longer than an arm’s length.

“Used to be my neighbor,” you replied simply, eyes suddenly focused on anything else. Already Fall, the leaves had long turned their seasonal vibrant shades. There was still some beauty in the world, and you were keen on admiring it as often as the universe allowed.

“He help you when it all went to shit?”

You knew the question was coming, and it still sucked the wind from you, replacing it with a familiar feeling of dread. It was a conversation you’d avoided for weeks now – it was coming eventually. 

“He took me when it all went to shit,” you replied simply, stopping in your tracks to pick some ripe berries on a nearby bush. He was intent to watch you work and happy for the break on his feet. “Kept me in his basement. Called me his wife.”

“Jesus, I…”

“Do not apologize,” you snapped, avoiding his eyes now. A hint of blue caught your eye close to the ground and you quickly shined a flashlight, confirming berries were growing on a bush. You motioned with your head to Negan to follow. “He ain’t worth it.”

“You escape then?” he questioned, burying the urge to ask you exactly what being the man’s wife meant exactly – he had some idea. For all the horrors in the outside world, the thought of the horrors you’d faced in a basement for months made his blood boil. It made his skin crawl worse than any walker he’d seen so far.

And he’s seen a lot of nasty ones.

He hoped the world had claimed a piece of shit like that. 

“In a manner of speaking,” you replied as you crouched down, picking one of the ripe berries and rolling it between your fingers to test it before popping it into your mouth, savoring the sweetness. As you picked the berries you alternated between pocketing them in a pouch on your jacket and handing them to him. “I killed him one night. Just…had enough. Snapped. Ripped his throat out with m’teeth.”

Yeah. You were definitely his favorite.

Snarling approaching disrupted the conversation, both of your heads snapping in the direction of the sound as you each took a step inward to be closer to one another. Your hand reached out, grasping around his that held the smooth wood of the bat. 

“Lemme try this one,” you stated, smiling up at him with a wicked twinkle in your eye that pulled at his heart. He slid the weapon into your hand slowly, watching as you turned on your heel to stalk your way toward the growling, grotesque man – Gary, from the looks of his RadioShack nametag. He was certain he could remember a comic book character or two that had swung their hips as they wound up a bat at their side as you were now. 

The first crack of wood against skull had him clapping, looking on with pride.

“There you go,” he encouraged, his voice a tone you were certain you’d only heard him use with you. “Look at ya.”

The second remark was intended to stay mental, but left his mouth as a low, appreciative grumble, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. His steps carried him close enough behind you to intervene if he was needed, and he was close enough now to your back you could feel his breath on your neck. 

“Got another one comin’,” he pointed over your shoulder toward the tree line, smiling when you immediately took a step toward it.

“I got ‘er.”

The first under your belt now, you understood the weight of the barbwire-wrapped wood, and the first swing was perfect precise, enough force connecting with its head to send it to the ground. Every swing after that was purely for show – for him. He knew it, and he loved it. 

“Atta girl,” he cooed, walking closer behind you again. “Goddamn natural.”

“All done,” you breathed out heavy as you stood straight, admiring your work for a moment before beginning to turn back to him. “Gonna have to get me one of these.”

You had barely turned and finished your words when his hands grasped your face, pulling you in to press his lips to yours hard and desperate – starved. The gasp that slipped from you was muffled by his lips as you returned his kiss just as heavy, clutching to the collar of his jacket with the hand that didn’t hold Lucille. 

One of his hands slid to your hip first, pulling you closer to him as his fingers brushed against your jaw, his tongue gliding along the seam of your lips to encourage them apart. As your mouth fell open for him and he tasted you his hand continued downward, grasping your backside and pulling you in closer. 

The bulge at his waist was unmistakable, the mere sight of you bloodied and vicious causing his cock to strain in his pants immediately. You released your hold on his collar as your tongue danced with his to slide it downward, cupping the sizable bulge and giving a light squeeze. The groan that rumbled in his chest had you clenching your thighs together tighter, desperate for some pressure of your own. 

“Oh, you fuckin’ naughty thing…” he grumbled against your lips, releasing you just enough so you both could catch your breath. He nipped at your bottom lip lightly, pulling a quiet moan from your lips. You felt his cock twitch in his jeans. “Couldn’t help myself, you looked so damn sexy swingin’ Lucille around like that…”

You pressed your lips to his again, eager to show him your appreciation for his continued praise but finding the words didn’t exist in your mind – all that existed was need for him. To your dismay a hearty chuckle rumbled in his chest, his lips curving to a smile against yours. 

“Can’t fuck you right here, darlin’,” he cooed, nipping at your bottom lip again out of refusal to outright return your kiss. “Too many dead in these trees. Not the kind of eyes I want on us.”

When you gave his cock another slow squeeze his eyes narrowed as he grunted, his hips thrusting forward to meet your hand for the pressure. Your eyes burned into his as he gazed down at your lips. “We should head back to the sanctuary then.”

“We should,” the hesitation was evident in his voice, the desire making it honey thick and low. His blown pupils and deep breaths combined with that voice let you know everything he really wanted. He leaned forward to press a long, heavy kiss to your lips, his hand sliding to the back of your neck where he caressed you gently. The whine that fell from your lips only made him grin more. 

It should have been obvious that batting lessons with him would end up like this.

“‘C’mere, pretty girl,” Negan instructed the moment the two of you were tucked away into his room together, his legs sprawled wide as he dropped onto the leather couch that sprawled across his room. He’d been supporting you with an arm around your waist nearly the entire walk back, through the gates and to his room, your legs shaking just from kissing him. 

He took every opportunity the two of you were within sight of someone else since returning to show things had escalated, pressing kisses to your temple, and grasping your waist so tight and so low – friendly behavior was left in the past. He’d even considered pinning you to the fence and fucking you right there – for anyone awake in the middle of the night or on guard to see – but he decided against it. 

For now, anyway. 

You nodded as you made your way to him, climbing into his lap carefully, your legs straddling his thighs as your arms locked around his neck. One of his hands found a home on your cheek again, cradling it gently as his callused thumb brushed across your cheekbone. You leaned to his affection as naturally as you breathed. 

“Did such a good job out there,” he complimented with a lightness to his voice you hadn’t heard before, not even when the two of you had been alone. While there was always something behind his gaze – appreciation, desire, hunger – now it held so many things so entirely new. There was a newfound intimacy to how his eyes roamed your face, searching your own for matching emotions. “Gonna have to take you out with me some more.”

He drank in the smile his compliment earned, breathing out deeply as you turned your head to press your lips to his palm. Your eyes continued to burn into his. “Whenever you ask me to.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna be out of my sight after tonight, sweetheart,” he stated, his tone unwavering and absolute. You believed him. “Attached at the hip.”

“Mm,” you hummed as you pondered his words, eyes raking over his face. One of your hands slid to rest on his cheek as well, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip gently. You were teasing him, merely taunting – he knew. “I don’t remember us talkin’ about that.”

You’d seen this smirk on his face before. Now, as his face inched closer and his breath ghosted over your lips, it sent a flood of arousal straight to your aching cunt – you’d been wet since the kiss in the woods. 

“You won’t wanna be away from me after tonight,” he laughed, soft and low as his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you closer to claim your lips in a heavy kiss again. 

“Hope you’re prepared to back up all that talk, Negan,” you breathed against his lips when he released you, leaning closer to nip at his bottom lip as you slowly rocked your hips against his waist, grinding your covered, soaked core against the throbbing erection in his pants.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand not holding the back of your head seizing hold on your hip to steady you as you continued to rut against him. His tone was dark, low – much-more desire filled than it had ever been for you. “You need somethin’, pretty girl? Could ask nicely.”

“Need you, Negan,” you whined, grinding down particularly slowly as one of your hands began to work at the zipper of his jacket. “S-so fucking tired of waitin’. Don’t make me beg.”

“Bet you’d sound pretty though.”

You opened your mind to protest but were quickly silenced by another heavy kisses, his tongue immediately seeking yours out for the newfound dance he loved as his hands abandoned their hold on you to start removing your clothes. 

He instructed you to stand just long enough to remove your blood-stained pants and t-shirt, his eyes running over your legs and lingering on your thighs and core. He pointed with a thick finger to the bed behind him, rising to his feet to remove his own jacket and shirt as you did what was instructed, sitting on the bed. 

You’d figured his room was comfortable – but this was luxury. 

“Lemme see,” he breathed in this new husky tone as his shirt was pulled over his head, his muscles flexing as he did so. The scars that graffitied his torso raised more questions – you wanted to ask about each one, press kisses to them, run your fingers on the particularly nasty ones – you’d do that later. For now, you leaned back on the bed slightly, propping yourself up with one arm as you spread your legs for him. 

His tongue darted out from his lips as his eyes ran over your soaked core, his steps carrying him closer until he was in front of you, within reach of his hands again. One of his hands ran up the inside of your thigh slowly, the other reaching to push a finger against your chin to tilt your head upward.

“Look at me,” he cooed, cupping your cheek again as he ran two fingers through your soaked folds, spreading your arousal through them more with an appreciative hum. “So wet for me already. Walked back from the woods like this I’ll bet.”

You whimpered lightly as he continued to run his fingers back and forth, breathing out shaky as you nodded up at him, pupils blown wide and lips fallen open. He took advantage of your partially open mouth to slip a finger in, groaning when you immediately closed your lips around it to suck lightly. 

He’d waited too damn long for this.

He slipped his index finger into your waiting heat, cock twitching in his pants when he felt your tight walls engulf his finger. A moan sounded in your chest that vibrated around his finger as you swirled your tongue – his eyes seemed to grow darker by the second. When he’d fully sheathed his finger in you he curled it, stroking your soft inner walls as he removed his finger to hear you moan. 

“Tight little thing, aren’t you?” he cooed, removing his finger before he pumped it back into you with the company of a second, curling them both to stroke behind your clit. You keened, hips thrusting forward to meet his hand that was soaked with your arousal, head surging forward to claim his lips with your own kiss. 

He chuckled against your lips as he began to pump his fingers, ensuring the palm of his hand rubbed against your clit with each re-entry. Touch-starved and desperate your legs were already shaking, your tongue eagerly tasting his mouth. You hardly registered his free hand drop to his own waistband, working his belt and tight jeans free before kicking them to the floor.

The sound of the fabric hitting the ground was your realization, and without freeing him from the kiss you reached between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his long, thick shaft, your thumb rubbing along the pronounced vein. He pulled away from your lips to groan deeply, looking into your eyes with a fire ignited so bright it burned.

Another moan fell from your lips with a particularly hard thrust of his fingers, though it didn’t stop you from removing your hand from his cock to spit on it. Wrapping your hand back around his throbbing length you began to stroke him slowly, grasping with the perfect amount of pressure to cause his eyes to roll back slightly. 

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he groaned, running his nose along your jaw before pressing a kiss beneath your ear. “You – fuck – you keep doin’ that and I’m not gonna be able to taste you. Don’t make me tie those pretty hands up.”

You whimpered and defiantly gave his cock several more strokes before releasing your hold, unwilling to have your hands restricted – the first time with him, anyway. As he sank to his knees on the hard floor in front of you, you drank in the sight, keening when he scissored his fingers inside of you. He pressed a kiss to your knee before he trailed his lips upward, inhaling the scent of your arousal deep into his lungs. 

“Negan…” you began to protest slightly in bashfulness, and he only chuckled in response, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh before he gave your clit a gentle lick. 

“Hush,” he cooed, removing his fingers from you to run his tongue through your folds slowly with a low, appreciative groan. 

You forgot any argument you had intended to present when he finished the swipe of his tongue by flicking the warm muscle against your clit again before sucking it briefly. He savored every moan he pulled from you, how your breath began to become desperate as he fucked his tongue into your wet heat repeatedly, reaching to rub his thumb around your clit repeatedly and fast. He was like a man starved for months in the way his tongue devoured you, alternating between fucking into you and licking slowly to swallow as much of your arousal as he could.

“Good god you taste good,” he complimented from between your legs, pulling back to speak and press a kiss to your clit, then your inner thigh. He nipped at the spot carefully, just enough to bruise. “No fuckin’ way I’m lettin’ this pussy go. No way.”

“Maybe you’ll change your mind when you fuck me,” you managed to stammer out, your voice pitched higher as he reached to rub your clit again, smiling up at you wickedly. You were already glowing for him practically…he couldn’t wait to see you fucked out.

He was torn between wondering if your mouth was still running, he wasn’t doing his job well enough; or if your mouth wasn’t running if he’d even like you anymore. 

“Not a chance in hell,” he murmured before slipping his fingers back into you, leaning forward to claim your clit between his lips again with a soft suck.

It wasn’t long before your legs were shaking on either side of his head, clenching harder as the pressure built up in you heavier and heavier, threatening to burst. When he nipped at the sensitive bundle of nerves with his teeth lightly it erupted, your orgasm flooding from you as you moaned loudly. White overtook your vision, heat swallowing you whole. 

He removed his fingers to connect his mouth and tongue to you again, savoring as much of the liquid gold that hadn’t covered his face. When he pulled away from you he muttered compliments into your thighs, hips, stomach, and breasts as you came down from the orgasm. He was circling his tongue around one of your budded nipples when your vision became clearer, looking up at you with an adoration filled smile.

You already knew he was right – you would never want to be away from him again.

“There she is,” he cooed, releasing your breast from his mouth to lean upward and press a gentle kiss to your lips – uncharacteristically gentle. It occurred to you now that you were unlocking a side to Negan you decided likely no one had seen since the outbreak. 

You tasted yourself on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, now encouraging you to move back on the bed and lay flat. He leaned over you, supporting his weight with one arm so he could continue to stroke your side gently. When he released your lips again, he bit into the bottom one a little harder, a little more desperate and unhinged, much closer to the Negan you knew, before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

Duality – nothing about Negan made sense and yet everything about him was exactly as it should be.

“Now you can beg,” he whispered against your forehead lightly. You felt his lips curve into a smile. “Just a little. Lemme hear how nice you can be, pretty girl.”

“Negan, jesus christ, not now,” you whimpered, raising your hips to press up into his. It pulled a groan from you but he only grasped your hip tight to steady you. “Please, please not now. I can’t…I can’t wait. Please fuck me.”

And it was a blur of pleases and whimpers then until he was satisfied, your words devolving into moderately incoherent babble as you kissed his neck, his chest, dragged your hands over his torso…you were begging him in every way you could. Finally, he conceded, tilting your head up to kiss your lips again gently.

“C’mere, sweetheart, I got ya,” he cooed, lifting your hips up to slide a pillow under them. He ran one hand slowly down your leg, grasping your ankle to lift the singular leg up over his shoulder. He leaned down to kiss you again, fisting his length before he ran the velvet head through your slick folds. 

He groaned as he sank into you, breathing out deep as your warm channel welcomed him home. Your eyes rolled back, quiet moans falling from your lips. 

“Holy hell,” he breathed against your lips as he pressed several light kisses to them, resting his forehead against yours briefly as he bottomed out. He stilled for a moment to allow you to adjust to the fullness of him, one of his hands grasping your hip tightly, the other fondling one of your breasts. He couldn’t get enough of you. “Fuck, you feel good.”

He kissed you reverently then, deep and passionate and fulfilling as he found himself enchanted by being inside you finally. 

“F-feel so full…” you muttered against his lips, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes already. He pulled back with a final kiss to bump his nose against yours, a light hum rumbling in his chest as he dragged his cock from you slowly before working each inch in again.

“I know, baby, but you’re taking me so well,” he breathed out lightly, ducking his head to kiss down your neck lightly. He began to suck marks into the skin – the more exposed they’d be later, the better. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, too.”

“Negan,” you whined, raising your hips off the pillow slightly, wiggling slightly. He removed his hand from your breast to grab both of your hips, his tongue clicking against the back of his teeth before he bit down onto your shoulder. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight,” he groaned as he repeated the slow removal and thrust back into you again, savoring how your walls gripped him with each entry. “I’m gonna wreck you.”

“Please,” was the unexpected reply that filled his ears, and from there, he was insatiable.

He thrust into you hard, heavy, each time slowing enough to ensure the tip of his cock rubbed against the sensitive patch a couple of inches inside of you before he thrusted the rest of the way relentlessly. He didn’t let up – his hips didn’t falter as your walls fluttered around him, his pace consistent and desperate.

When he connected a thumb to your clit and began rubbing circles you felt the tears spill down your cheeks. He keened and raised his head to kiss one of them away, rubbing figure eights on the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Negan, t-too much…” you whimpered, legs shaking again. He leaned up and away from your face to kneel, keeping one of your legs over his shoulder. The new angle was deeper, the head of his cock occasionally knocking against your cervix. Each cry it pulled from your chest made his cock throb more.

“I won’t finish ‘til you gush on my cock like you did on my face,” he breathed out, eyes burning into yours with a frenzied look in his eyes. As you whimpered he flicked your clit, turning the quiet sound into a loud scream. It was the brightest smile of the night from him – dimples on full display as an low groan sounded in his chest. “That’s right, baby, let the whole sanctuary know. Scream my fuckin’ name.”

He removed his hand from you to spit on your clit, continuing to grin as you gasped at the cold liquid running down you. He smeared the liquid around before he started rubbing your clit again harder, his thrusts now becoming sloppy and desperate. He was chasing his own release and coaxing you closer to yours – he wouldn’t finish until you had.

You gushed around his cock again while you screamed his name – certain at least one person in the sanctuary would be woken to the sounds of your pleasure in the early morning. The white-hot heat spread over you, blinding your vision, blurring the ceiling and him above you as you shook beneath him. 

Even with your walls clenching around him, he held off his own release. Just as you began to come back to him he slung your other leg over his shoulder to join the other, pressing you in half as he leaned over you. 

“My turn,” he growled, his words shaking and breathless. “’m gonna fill your little cunt up.”

You were weak, barely coherent – it didn’t stop your body from responding to him, to his assertion. It didn’t stop your walls from fluttering around him. Your nails dug into his back, breaking the skin – you were both certain there would be small trails of blood. He would wear the claw marks with pride.

“That’s right, you want me to fill you up,” he cooed, reaching to press a kiss to your lips again. “Let fuckin’ everybody know who you belong to.”

“D-do it,” you whimpered, moving your head to press a kiss to his jaw. His thrusts became impossibly harder, and only faltered when you pressed a kiss below his ear, whispering in a breathless, husky tone. “Fill me up, daddy.”

A growl ripped through his chest, his lips crashing to yours in a bruising kiss. It only took a few harder, bruising, crippling thrusts before you felt his cock twitch in you. He released you from the kiss to lean his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut as he emptied thick ropes of his seed into you. 

When he had emptied his full load into you he removed his cock, leaning back to admire the sight of his cum leaking from you. 

“There’s still somethin’ beautiful in this world,” he muttered with his shit-eating grin plastered to his face, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead with a thin sheen of sweat. You giggled, returning his smile as you shook your head at his usual bullshit returning.

“Shut up, Negan,” you chastised, rolling your eyes. He only chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again before he rolled you to your side carefully, taking his position behind you. As his arms wrapped around your waist he slipped his still partially-hard cock back into your velvet walls, kissing between your shoulder blades with a smile on his lips as you gasped.

“That’s better, don’t have to worry about a mess,” he mumbled as he tucked his head into your neck, pressing light kisses beneath your ear repeatedly. He was warm, safe – the two of you felt whole together like this. 

Inseparable was correct. 

“Door ain’t locked…” you pointed out as you began to drift off to the first truly good night’s sleep since the world had gone to hell. His voice filled with sleep and low, he only chuckled before whispering his reply into your skin, his lips brushing with each word.

“I do not care.”

masterlist.

[yourantag]

Do NOT Let Him Cook (Morningstar!Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Happy White Day! I'm probably not posting more than this and the other fic I was supposed to post Valentine's Day (which, as you can see, I failed in doing) for March. I will, however, be posting a little more in April cause that is my birthday month! Expect a few indulgent fics. This fic is honestly just crack, so if you need something silly and sweet, here we are! Genuinely, do not let this man cook. Word count: 2.2k words Summary: It's White Day, a day of reciprocated love. Of course, Helel has to give you something in return for your wonderful Valentine's gift. Now, if only he could figure out how he turned a tart into a fruity croissant...

There were very few things Helel feared. The first, of course, was you. He held your heart in his hands as you did too, yes, but no one could get him to obey them quite like you could. It was loyalty, it was devotion, one reciprocated through blood and love. To possess such power over him is somewhat of a marvel, something to fear, even just a little.

The second was your death, the thought of you leaving his side forever. He'd tear apart the world, commit sacrilege in the holiest places, and declare war upon the gods before he'd let someone take you from him. Still, he cannot control plagues, time, or the hostility within the hearts of humans. Life is delicate, even Helel cannot deny that.

The third thing he feared, Helel learned, was baking.

It seems simple enough, really. Chuck a few ingredients in, mix it, then toss it in an oven. Easy, right? Looking around him now, with smoke billowing off the charred tray (and wow, he didn't know metal could burn like that), Helel was completely at a loss.

"Ah, these don't seem quite right." He muttered, scratching his cheek. All Helel wanted was to give you something in return for your Valentine's gift, something special. He had consulted many people, even asking some of the prisoners, as odd as that sounded.

Most didn't give any good responses, only saying "please let me go" or "you're going to pay for this." Terrible advice, really. Not even on topic, either, but it could be worse, he supposed. So, he went to ask his favorite person to bother.

"For the love of- just make them cookies or something!" Nebuchadnezzar had exclaimed, absolutely done with Helel's ramblings. He looked about ready to chew his tongue off so he could finally know peace again. At least death wouldn't ramble about their lover for 15 hours straight.

It had been a decent suggestion, so Helel had taken it. Perhaps he shouldn't have, considering the disaster that was most of his creations.

The counters were covered in flour, the fine powder dusting the area like snow. Splatters of batter, egg, and butter painted some places like abstract art. The worst place of all, funnily enough, was the table. It was completely clean, presenting only a few delectable looking treats.

Sadly, they were not exactly what they were made to be. Somehow, Helel had managed to make bread instead of cake, a croissant instead of a tart, and now small bricks instead of cookies. He carefully tapped one against the counter, wincing as the wood chipped under the force. The cookie, however, was fine.

'I... can't give them this.'

Helel smiled awkwardly, wanting nothing but to slam his face against a wall. He had thought "it couldn't be that hard!" and look at him now. It was pathetic, to the point he genuinely considered just asking a servant to make something instead. However, that's literally something he could do any other day. It didn't carry the significance he'd want it to.

You had given him the head of the rebellion's leader, which most would find horrifying but he found terribly romantic. The best Valentine's gift, truly. Sure, he couldn't give you something of equal value, but he could try and match the sentiment. Helel knew you loved effort and thought, so he would do his best to give you something of that in equal measure.

So, he couldn't give up. Helel once again turned to a different page in the cook book, praying to himself that he didn't fuck up this time. He couldn't possibly mess up sugar cookies, right? They were simple, so surely no matter what they'd be fine.

He was cursing himself wasn't he?

He poured the ingredients, carefully measuring them as he went through the motions. It went smoother this time since he just made cookies (if he could really call them that). With practice under his belt, Helel managed to make a tray of cookies.

"Now I roll them in sugar before baking... where's the sugar?" He looked around, grabbing at the jars in front of him.

"That's flour... that's baking powder... or is it baking soda?... that's powdered milk... wait why do we have powdered milk? Oh!" Helel smiled as he finally found what he was looking for. He didn't know how the chefs managed to get anything done with nothing labeled, but that was the beauty of not being a chef. He didn't have to know, and perhaps he never would.

So, he popped open the glass jar, pouring in the crystalline fragments into a bowl. They glimmered innocently in the light, small gems that melted upon one's tongue.

Helel quickly tossed each cookie ball into the bowl, placing them back onto the tray afterward. Making sure they weren't too close together, he arranged them one last time. Finally, he placed them in the oven. The timer would let him know when they were ready.

The man sighed, moving quickly to wash the dirty dishes. He knew he could leave it to the servants, but at this point, he just wanted to get rid of the evidence of his failures. Sure, most of his baked treats looked... fine, but the first few looked as though it had gone through someone's digestive system already.

After all was said and done, Helel felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. If this was what the chefs dealt with on the daily, he was going to have to give them a raise. All this for some desserts? Really? They deserved to be paid more for this misery.

Checking the timer, he nodded to himself. 10 minutes was enough time to snack on something. Helel let himself drop into a seat, groaning as his weary legs finally got to rest. He grabbed the cake-turned-bread, cutting off a small slice. The cookies were a definite no, and he had his suspicions about the croissant, but the bread seemed fine.

'If I get poisoned from this, they're never going to let me live it down.'

You would absolutely make fun of him. Morningstar, the King of Babel, dying from his own creation. It sounded like a story Shakespeare wrote, really. Helel hoped more for his pride rather than his life that he wasn't that bad at baking.

Taking a few bites, he found that he wasn't dying yet. Which was relieving, of course, but to his surprise, the bread also tasted not bad. Sweeter than most breads, but nothing unbearable. It was probably going to be one of the few things he could actually share with you.

At the chime of the timer, Helel took the cookies out of the oven, letting them cool. That would give him another few minutes to start packing things up. Should he use red ribbon or white? It's a White Day gift, yes, but you told him red reminded you of him.

Humming, the young king started slicing the bread, gently placing the slices in a nice container. Perhaps he should pack some jam in the basket too- it would go well with it.

Helel glanced at the first batch of cookies, opting to dump them in the trash after a brief moment of contemplation. Could they be used as projectiles? Honestly, yes. Was he going to let anyone know he failed that badly? Never.

Finally, he took a bite of one of the croissants. It was fine as well, just odd. The fruit fillings and cream were distributed well throughout the pastry. If it weren't for the fact that it was supposed to be a tart, Helel might have been proud.

Packing those up as well, he placed the 2 containers in a basket, grabbing a few jars of jam and a butter knife. By then, the cookies were sufficiently cooled. Though, after taking another look at them, Helel wondered what he had done wrong this time.

Unlike the first batch, these cookies were puffy. They weren't like cream puffs, but they were certainly not cookies. Had he mixed up which of the powders he was using? He really wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

The other pastries he had packed weren't made to be what they ended up as, but tasted fine anyway. Maybe, these would be the same.

So, shrugging his shoulders, Helel tossed one of the "cookies" in his mouth. 

And instantly he regretted it.

It was salty. Not salty in the pleasantly seasoned way, but salty as in if he had drank salt water it would taste better than this.

Spitting out the abomination, Helel glared at one of the jars. Of course he mixed up the sugar and salt, of course. Still, he at least had something other than this. He'd just have to dispose of these.

If you didn't find him.

The door clicks open, and Helel can't decide whether he wants to scream or jump right out the window. In the doorway, as he expects, is you. You're always welcome in his eyes, his wonderful, perfect significant other. However, at this particular moment, he really wishes you weren't here.

"Helel? What are you doing here?"

Though you ask, you already seem to at least know he was baking. Not a very hard assumption to make, all things considered, but that just makes things harder for him.

"I was... baking." He says, giving a strained smile as he slowly grabs the tray of cookies. Hopefully, if he's quick enough, you won't even notice him toss the entire thing in the trash.

'Please do not ask about these, please don't notice-'

"Is that a scone dusted in salt???" 

Helel was going to throw himself off a cliff.

"...I was trying to make sugar cookies."

The look you give him simply reaffirms his decision.

"I... see. What's the occasion?" You draw closer to him, staring curiously at the basket. He's thankful he managed to add a blanket on top beforehand, though it would've been nice if he had tied a ribbon around the handle, too.

"It's White Day, so I wanted to give you something special." Helel responded, dropping the tray with a sigh. It was too late to hide it, so why bother?

You hum softly, lips curling into a smile. You grab one of the scones, taking a bite before he can warn you. Yet, instead of spitting it out like he expected, you chewed as though nothing were wrong with it.

"Are- are you okay?" He can't help but ask. He had tried one right before you came- he knew they didn't taste good. So, how was it that you ate the entire scone without even cringing in the slightest?

"Yep, I'm fine. I'm sure you already know, but these are salty." You laugh, quickly grabbing a glass of water and chugging it. Despite the concern he feels, Helel can't help the way his chest warms. 

"Well, yeah, I was going to warn you about that. Can't believe you ate it all- I spat it out immediately. Why did you eat it anyway?" He can't help but ask. You weren't one to shy away from being honest. The fact you looked him in the eye and told him it was salty was proof enough. You weren't scared of him, so why would you put yourself through that?

You give him a smile, tilting your head towards the window. The sun is high in the sky, letting all know that it was sometime in the afternoon.

"You've been here for... I'm guessing at least 5 hours. I don't know how you haven't collapsed yet, but that's not the point right now. The point is," You take his hands into yours, kissing each of his knuckles. "I see your effort, and I don't want to let it go to waste."

Helel, for all his cruelty, his hatred, his grief- cannot be anything but in love for you. To love is to be seen, to be known, and it seems that for all his life, that's exactly what you've done. Seen him, known him, but most of all, loved him.

So, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses from your palm down to your wrist. He lingers there, letting you cradle his face as he closes his eyes.

It wasn't perfect by all means, but he thinks that this small moment is worth more than anything he could've ever orchestrated. Helel doesn't need endless praise, gifts, or overwhelming acts. All he needed was a bit of acknowledgement, a bit of love.

"Happy White Day, my sun.”

-

ALTERNATE STORY:

Helel did not realize he was that bad at baking. He completely blames Nebuchadnezzar for everything.

"HELEL, HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE A MONSTER!?"

"HIS NAME IS FREDERICK KREIBURG AND HE'S SORRY TO SAY THAT HE'S FRENCH!"

"WE AREN'T EVEN IN FRANCE! WHAT DID YOU ADD TO THOSE COOKIES? THE CREMATED REMAINS OF YOUR DAD!?"

"...that explains why the sugar was so dusty."

"...Helel Morningstar Babel-"

"Ahaha... ha..."

Yeah, Helel was going to kill his brother if you didn't end up killing him first.

[blackjackkent]

Prompt fill for @thedarkstrategist from this ask meme: [ 🛁 ] - running them a bath, Shadowzel.

-----

“She is in pain,” Lae’zel says, pacing back and forth before the bar on the Elfsong’s bottom floor. The ale Karlach purchased for her sits undrunk on the wood bartop; she seems to have forgotten its existence. “And it is a pain I do not know how to soothe,” she growls. “It is maddening.”

“Yeah,” Karlach says, watching Lae’zel’s quick, restless movements with an air of sympathy. “Fucking sucks, when someone you care about is hurting. And this kind of hurt… whoof.” She breathes out, rattling her lips heavily. “I lost my parents, back before the Hells, but at least they went… normally, y’know? Bad fever, overturned cart. Things like that happen to people. This, what she had to do… that’s a whole different ball game…”

“This is not helping,” Lae’zel says curtly.

“I’m commiserating,” Karlach says with a slight shrug. “I don’t really have an answer for you. ‘s not the sort of thing you fix.”

Lae’zel comes to an abrupt halt and turns to face Karlach directly. “There must be something,” she says. “I--” She breaks off abruptly and scowls down at the battered slats of the floor. “You know of these things,” she mutters. “I do not. I must have your help.”

“These things?” Karlach cocks her head slowly to one side.

A pause. Lae’zel flushes, her jaw working with frustration at the struggle to articulate her own feelings. “Romance,” she finally says carefully. Another pause, then suddenly rapid, “No. Not romance. Something more. The gentleness that comes with it. I feel the need for it, but do not know…” She falters, her ears flushing a deep olive. “I do not know what to do.”

“Oh.” Karlach would be tempted to smile, were it not for the fact that Lae’zel looks so terribly agitated. “Well, I’ll let you in on the first secret I know,” she says, “which is that we’re all making this the fuck up as we go along. I certainly am.” She nudges the barstool next to her with her boot toe. “C'mon, sit down."

Lae'zel sits abruptly, a soldier obeying orders. Karlach studies her for a moment thoughtfully. "Y'know," she says slowly after a little while, "sometimes when my engine's real bad, Hec'll just... do things for me. Just so I don't have to. Get my dinner served up, or clean out my armor, that sort of thing. And it helps." She rubs at her jaw. "I think, with this sort of shit... it's not about fixing. Not really. It's about... just being there, and holding some of the weight. Helping her keep living, while she sorts it all out."

Lae'zel considers this with narrowed eyes. "Yes," she says slowly.

Karlach's teeth flash in a cautious grin. "We've got a proper bathroom in our rooms upstairs now. You could draw her a bath, bring her dinner after... give her a night not having to think about anything."

Lae'zel nods. "Yes," she repeats. Her whole body is stock-still except for her fingertips which fidget almost imperceptibly against the floral-carved edge of the bar. 

Karlach's smile softens. "The way Hec tells it - it'll make you feel better too," she says gently. "Maybe feel a little less like your head's eating itself alive." She claps Lae'zel on the shoulder. "Look. We're gonna make this happen," she says. "And I'll help. She likes night orchids, right? I'm gonna go right now over to Bonecloaks and shake that woman down for every blossom she's got, and then Jaheira and me'll take the boys off on an adventure for a while. Leave the rooms upstairs all yours till, say, ten o'clock?"

She doesn't expect thanks - the whole crew, by now, is well aware that Lae'zel doesn't tend to say it out loud. What she does get, though, is a sudden tight grip on her forearm from the gith's long-fingered hand; a gesture of camaraderie - or perhaps the clinging of a drowning woman to a driftwood life raft. "That is... generous," Lae'zel mutters.

"Just doing my part to make love bloom," Karlach says airily.

Lae’zel flinches, her color deepening again. “We have not spoken of love,” she says stiffly.

Karlach lifts her eyebrows innocently. “Oh, are we not saying that part out loud yet?” she asks.

“Kainyank…” Lae’zel grumbles, rolling her eyes - but Karlach notices she doesn’t argue the point.

-----

Shadowheart sits on the bed, leaning against the window, her knees drawn to her chest. She’s dimly aware that the others haven’t come back from dinner yet, but it’s hard to muster the energy to care. Ever since the House of Grief, she’s felt drained, empty, surrounded by the shattered pieces of a world she doesn’t know how to reconstruct yet. She feels broken.

There’s the soft sound of a footstep up the stairs. Rustling movement in the center of the shared floor of their lodgings. The sound of running water from the magical taps in the bathroom. Shadowheart ignores it all, focusing her eyes on the progress of a fly climbing up the outside of the window glass. 

Then-- “Shadowheart?”

Something in her heart loosens just a little, hearing Lae’zel’s voice. It’s astonishing, given how they began, the way that Lae’zel has come to mean protection, and understanding, and calm. Lae’zel is safety in a way that none of the others are, because Lae’zel too has had her life taken apart, and the two of them have built a new one out of the ashes. “Yes,” she says softly, forcing herself to stir and lift her head. “I’m here.”

To her surprise, she finds that Lae’zel is standing watching her with a bundle of deep blue flowers in one hand. The gith shifts awkwardly and then sets the plants down on the nearby table. “I--” she says haltingly. A pause, and then she presses on doggedly as if expecting a burst of laughter from some corner at any moment. “All day you have sat here alone. I have drawn you a bath. Will you come?”

“A bath?” Shadowheart tips her head, mildly bemused.

“Yes.” Lae’zel shifts her weight slowly from one foot to the other. Then she adds, almost sheepishly, “Karlach said it would help.” A pause, then so low Shadowheart almost can’t hear it, “Let me help. Please.”

A sudden tight lump settles in Shadowheart’s throat, making it hard to speak. “Lae’zel--”

“I said I would protect you,” Lae’zel mutters. “But there is no enemy to strike. There is only this. These small things. It is not much, but…” 

“No.” Shadowheart slowly uncurls herself from the tight ball in which she has spent the last few hours. The barest hint of a smile pulls at her lips for the first time in days. It’s not about the bath, not really - she didn’t need or even really want one. It’s the reminder that there is more around her than the impenetrable shadow Shar has draped over her world. That Lae’zel is driving it back with both fists, even when she doesn’t think she knows how.

“No,” she repeats softly. “That sounds perfect.”

[babybluebex]

rememories | tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: the lee family trashed your betting room, including your most prized possessions, and tommy does everything in his power to soothe you and right the wrongs that the rival gang caused. pairing: tommy shelby (peaky blinders) x fem!reader tags: s1!tommy, tommy being a sweetheart, your daughter's name is thomasine (thanks @lost-in-sokovia for that one), no real warnings for this other than like angst? brief emotional distress? idk author's note: it's come to this lol. i'll be fixing my cillian masterlist later and reblogging it, so y'all can read all of my old tommy fics (and a few other cillian characters lmao) but i hope you enjoy this one!

The backroom was in total disrepair. Chairs were tipped over, things were thrown from tables, coins scattered everywhere and marks of bludgeonings on the walls. The poor little room was merely a shell of itself, its personality and life battered away. You could still hear your husband’s jaded laughter as he made fun of John for wanting to marry Lizzie Stark, but mere minutes ago now seemed like a lifetime away.

Scudboat sat as Arthur poured him whisky, and he explained how the Lees, “the whole lot of ‘em”, came in and destroyed the betting backroom. He was ambushed, he said, or he would have done a better job defending it. You held Tommy’s hands as fear made your own shake, and your husband sighed. “Find what can be salvaged,” he said, narrowly missing John’s angry fit as he kicked a box over. “Anything is better than nothing.”

“This is terrible,” you sniffled, and Tommy extracted his handkerchief for you. It was one that you had bought for him right after you had gotten married and just before he went to war, and you were always amazed that the silky cloth made it as far as it did. You dabbed at your eyes, scowling at your dark makeup that came off, and your heart beat fiercely against your ribcage for a moment. “The children. Was Finn here for this, Scudboat? Or Thomasine?”

“Nah,” he said. “Finn was off in town; Thomasine ain’t come home from school yet.”

“Oh, Tommy, they can’t see the house like this!” you whimpered and clutched your husband’s arm. “It’ll upset Thomasine too much. I’ll fetch her from school and keep her away from the house for a while until this is mostly fixed.”

Tommy nodded wordlessly in agreement, and he began to take off his cap, but he quickly stopped. He was fixated on something on the floor at his feet, and you looked down to match his gaze, only to be greeted with the big leather book that held your most prized possessions: your photographs. You kept the album in the betting room because it was always filled with people, witnesses in case something happened, and, really, who would want to ruin Tommy Shelby’s wife’s photographs?

Your knees crunched on glass as you lowered yourself to the album, and you took it in your shaking hands. The dark green leather was stained black with spilled ink and oil, obscuring your gold-foiled name on the spine, and you opened the book with a creak of the old pages. You didn’t want to have to assess the damage, but the first page already had you weeping pathetically again. The first photograph, the first one ever taken of you and Tommy, sitting and laughing together as Ada tried out her new camera, years and years ago at fifteen and thirteen. It was gone. The page was yellowed all around where the photograph should be, but the picture itself was gone. You wanted to throw the book across the room and scream; you weren’t concerned with material things, many girls from Small Heath were the same way, but those photographs were your pride and joy. The next page was a formal picture taken of Tommy wearing his Army uniform, his lanky seventeen-year-old build a little too small for the uniform that he would grow into. The corner of the photograph was torn but, thankfully, mostly intact.

The third page made you press the book to your chest. Your wedding photographs. You and Tommy had gotten married quickly, two days before he had to go to France, and, in your haste, you hadn’t been able to afford much. You could only afford a single copy of each photograph: one of you in your Sunday best that was your wedding dress, one of Tommy in his uniform, and one of you together. All three photographs were torn to shreds, settled in the spine of the book, waiting for you to find them. Those wedding photographs were the most important thing in the world to you, and now they were gone. Not even pasting glue could fix it. “Tom!” you sobbed, pressing the back of your wrist to your mouth. “O-Our wedding photographs! Th-They’re all ripped up!”

Your husband’s attention went from Scudboat to you, and he walked over to you and knelt down next to you. He took the small bits of photographs in his fingers, examining them intently, and he sighed heavily. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, and your sobs grew heavy. If Tommy was resigned to fate, then there was no chance of them being fixed. “I’m sorry.”

“We-We don’t have any extras, do we?” you stuttered. Your mouth felt dry as your fingers tried to match the ripped edges of photographs up, but they were too far gone. “Tom, d-do we have any others? Th-These aren’t the only ones we have, right?”

Tommy sat down next to you and put an arm around you, and he watched you frantically sob for just a second more before he used his strength to pull you into his chest. The photo album fell out of your hands, and you clutched your husband as you wailed in sorrow. Your wedding photos were gone.

“Mummy?” you heard a little voice call from the doorway, and you turned to see your wee daughter, Miss Thomasine Sophia Shelby, standing at the door. She was holding her school books in her arms, the pink ribbon in her hair coming loose. Thomasine was born just after Tommy come home from France, five years ago, and she looked like a Shelby, dark hair and bright eyes, but she had her father’s smile. “Mummy, why’re you crying?”

You sniffled and wiped at your eyes, not caring that you streaked your makeup to hell and back, and you mumbled, “People came into the house, did us over. I-I’m just sad, that’s all.” You didn’t want to worry your daughter with the real reason why you were so upset, because, truly, you felt silly for being so distraught at fucking photographs. It felt ridiculous for you, as a grown woman, a mother, to be crying over photographs.

Thomasine ran to you and sat her small body in your lap, and she wrapped her small arms around you. “Don’t be sad,” Thomasine told you, and you laughed humorlessly. “It’s okay, Mummy.”

You sniffled and soothed your hand down Thomasine’s hair— the ends of her long hair were turning a little ginger, just the same as her father’s tended to do in the sun— and you kissed her forehead. “Thank you, love,” you whispered. “Hug your father, he’s sad too.”

Thomasine crawled out of your lap and into Tommy’s, and Thomasine started to suck her thumb as Tommy stood up and settled his daughter firmly on his hip. He offered you a hand to stand up, and you sniffled as you gathered the soiled photo album up in your grip and stood up on your own. “If you find any of ‘em,” Tommy called to the room, and he gestured to the album in your arms. “Bring ‘em to her, don’t waste time. Yeah?”

You hardly slept that night. After securing the house and making sure that there wasn’t any other part of it that the Lees had touched, you had tried to go about your life normally, but it was difficult to pretend like you didn’t know that, at any time, rivals could enter your home and slaughter every last one of you. You put Thomasine to bed after dinner, and your girl fell asleep quickly, but you yourself were awake for hours. Tommy had taken your photo album and put it away in his wardrobe; “If you keep it, you’ll fret over it forever.” He was right, of course, because, when the sun came up, you had tugged it out and was trying to sort through the scraps of photographs on your bedroom floor. The room was cold and part of you wished that you could be in bed, holding your husband close, but you needed to do it for yourself. You had managed to salvage a single photograph by the time Tommy was blinking himself awake, and you sniffled as you beckoned him over. “Tommy, look!” you exclaimed. “I-It’s Thomasine!”

“Jesus, woman,” Tommy sighed groggily. “Have you been at this all night?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “Her baby picture, look!”

Tommy reached down for you and he took your hand, and he helped you stand up, his hands going to hold your cheeks. “I know you’re having a hard time with this,” he whispered. “But obsessing over it is only going to make it worse. They’re as good as gone, darling.”

“B-But—” you sniffled, and Tommy shook his head.

“You have to let it go,” He told you firmly. “Come back to bed, you don’t have to be awake for hours.”

“Oh, Tommy,” you sighed, shuffling back up to bed. Your joints hurt from sitting on the floor practically all night, and your vision watered up as you watched Tommy gather up the album and photograph scraps and set them back in his wardrobe. “What am I going to do? All of my favorite memories are lost.”

“You still have the memories in your head, love,” Tommy told you, sitting next to you. You leaned into him and pressed your cheek to his warm chest, and you sniffled as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I just…” you mumbled. “Our wedding pictures is the thing I’m most upset about. We were so young, and that was before everything went to shit, and we were so happy…”

“We’re still happy,” Tommy assured you. “We’re happier now, because we have Thomasine. We’re a complete family now.”

“You know what I mean,” you said. “We were poor kids, and-and looking at those pictures gave me hope that you’d come home when you were in France. They were my lifeline for a long time, and to have them ruined like this…”

Tommy’s lips formed into a thin line, and he rubbed your back comfortingly as you finally laid down and tried to settle into sleep. Your sleep was thin, hardly even deep enough to call proper sleep, but you finally woke up and got out of bed when you heard shouting down in the bottom of the house. You were used to that, but you still felt like you ought to make sure everything was alright, so you pulled yourself from bed and went about groggily getting ready for the day, slipping on a dress and spraying on perfume before descending the stairs.

The noise seemed to be coming from the back room, the ruined betting room, and you carefully pushed back the plush curtains and opened the doors to see a sight. Your eyes first landed on your husband, dressed in his old uniform. It certainly looked too small for him, tugging a little at his chest, but you clenched your teeth together at the sight. How long has it been since you saw him in the pea-soup-green uniform? Five years, at least. “Tommy,” you said softly. You couldn’t help yourself from stepping closer to him as his head snapped to look at you, and his hard gaze softened in the way it always did when he saw you. He never subjected you to his steely gaze, and, whenever you saw it, it always reminded you of what a feared man he was.

“Fuck, love, what’re you doing down here?” Tommy asked. “You’re supposed to be asleep still.”

“Heard shouting,” you said softly. The other men were bustling around the room as you smoothed your hands up Tommy’s chest, and your eyes went all watery again. “This isn’t happening, please, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked. “Talk to me, darling, what’s the matter?”

“How long have you known?” you asked, sniffling. “Leaving us like this, how could you?”

“What?”

“The uniform, Tommy!” you cried. “You’re being called to the war again, why else would you have this shit on?”

Tommy grabbed your cheeks and kissed your forehead, and he angled your head to the side. Arthur stood there, behind a massive camera, angled at a blank space on the wall, and your breath caught in your throat. “What is this?” you asked.

“I’m not being called back,” Tommy explained. “I got to thinking about our wedding pictures, and I went to see the photographer who made them. He said the film was too old and that they couldn’t make you new copies, so the next best thing was to retake them.”

“Oh?” you asked. You sniffled and wiped your nose, and you gently reached out to touch the camera. “We… We’re retaking our wedding pictures?”

“With a few adjustments,” Tommy said. “Back then, I couldn’t afford to even get you so much as a bouquet, but now… Well, I took your measurements to a dress shop, and even though the dress was pre-made and only adjusted to you…”

“Tommy?” you whimpered.

“I got you a wedding dress, love,” Tommy told you. “Better than the flour-bag Sunday best that you had on.”

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, and you sobbed once before flying to your husband and crushing him in a hug. “Oh, Tommy!” you cried. “Thank you! Can I see it?”

“Pol’s got it in the kitchen,” Tommy told you. “Go put it on, why don’t you let me see it?”

The dress was beautiful. Eggshell-colored silk that fell below your knees with long sleeves and deep neckline, very fashionable and pretty, and it fit you like a glove as Polly helped you into it. She primped you a little, fixing your hair and patting red rouge onto your lips, and she upturned a vase next to the stove and handed you the bouquet of wildflowers that Thomasine had picked a few days earlier. You felt timid and almost nervous as Polly escorted you back to the betting room, and you cleared your throat once you passed the threshold, afraid that, if you spoke, your voice would give up on you.

Tommy looked to you in an instant, and he gave you a small smile as he stepped towards you. “Aren’t you a sight?” he said in his rumbling timbre, putting his hands on your hips, and he kissed your lips for a moment before he added, “Thomasine might get a brother before the day’s over, if you keep looking that beautiful.”

“Oh, shut up,” you giggled, and he steered you in front of the camera as you smoothed down your dress. You were suddenly nervous, and you clutched Tommy’s hand as Arthur cranked the camera, preparing it to go off. “Tom?”

“M’right here, pet,” Tommy said, squeezing your hand. “Just smile; everything will be fine.”

By the time night fell, you had a whole slew of new film, new pictures to replace the ruined ones. Recreations of your wedding pictures, an updated picture of a smiling Thomasine, even one of Tommy kissing you when the camera went off on accident. Thomasine was tangled in your skirts then, gazing up at her daddy, and you looked at the film as you sat by the fire that night, smiling and admiring it. That was your favorite memory; you, your husband, and your daughter, smiling, laughing, loving. It was perfect.

[asnowfern]

(Probably) How not to teach someone how to fly

A/N: It’s @cassianappreciationweek !!!💕💕💕 I’m gonna try my best to post a drabble each day and this is a little baby Cazriel brotp to kickstart day 1: Flight! I hope you enjoy!

“You’re so terrible at this, it’s embarrassing.”

Azriel bit back a groan. He used his battered palms to push himself off the ground and brushed off the pine needles that had lodged themselves in multiple spans of exposed flesh. Not deigning to look up from the sandy grounds, he flipped off his camp-mate, “Fuck off”

Cassian gave a noncommittal shrug. “I could. It’s not like you can chase after me with that pathetic movement you call flying.”

The taunt wasn’t particularly searing. In fact, it was comparatively mild compared to what the other bastard or anyone else in the war-camp had once said to him. But after leaving multiple Azriel-shaped dents in the terrain over the past hour, he had just about had it.

His fist shot out by instinct. Azriel might not have the so-called natural Illyrian call for the air but the thrumming call for blood in his veins was undeniable and unquenchable.

The hit went unblocked, striking Cassian in the cheeks, who did nothing more than wear a vicious white smile. Azriel barely shook his shoulders out before Cassian retaliated, arms swinging, wings spread.

The duo rode on training-honed reflexes. Strike and dodge. Tackle and lock. Swerve and grapple. There was no finesse in the way the two males entangled in a brawl, swinging punches until one was pinned down to the ground in a chokehold.

Azriel barely resisted the urge to spit in Cassian’s face, the other sporting a victorious grin despite the blooming purple eye and split lip. He huffed instead, sending a blood streaked spit to the side. If it just very narrowly missed Cassian’s face then that was too bad.

Cassian released his limbs, letting him collapse into the ground while he himself leaned back to stand upright on his knees.

“Feeling better?” He asked with a smirk, stretching out a hand to him.

Azriel grunted as he accepted the hand.

“Good.” Cassian nodded before sliding a broad arm around his shoulders to hoist him up, another arm supporting the back of his knees into a ridiculous bridal hold.

Azriel sputtered. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Cassian barked a laugh and shot up into the star-flecked sky. The icy whip on their faces was somehow a relief from the blows each of them took just minutes before.

“You’ve been thinking too much,” Cassian commented as he glided through the sky, his voice as smooth as the flight. It was comforting, soothing. “Every muscle in your body is made for this. There’s no need to try steering or balancing with your arms. Those are irrelevant.”

They circled over the trees, climbing higher with each loop. The scream of the wind quieting down to a whisper, a lover’s caress. Eventually, the muscles in Cassian’s back tightened and he halted in midair. His wings outstretched, catching the airflow with the most minute of movements, the span of rust and ebony so wholly a part of him.

“You’ve just got to remember. You are Illyrian, no matter how much you like to forget sometimes. And we do not obey the wind, it obeys us.” With a last parting smirk, Cassian released Azriel.

He cursed the wavy hair idiot throughout his entire descent. Even more so when his wings caught him, the muscles in his back and wings finally working in tandem.

It didn’t last long and still resulted in another, albeit lighter, Azriel-shaped dent. The motion was still too much a stranger to him. But for the first time ever, Azriel thought that perhaps flying wasn’t all bad.

[mrsstruggle]

The Beast of War - Prologue // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

This is the second part of the Shadow Wolf Series. Read The Lost Child First if you haven't!

Series Summary: In the aftermath of discovering her true identity and reuniting with her long-lost family, Y/N Stilinski finds herself adjusting to a new chapter of her life in Beacon Hills. With her brother and his friends in their senior year at High School, the town faces a fresh new threat. Y/N must navigate the complexities of her new life while confronting the looming threat that threatens to hurt her and the people she loves.

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)

Series Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Stiles Stilinski x Malia Tate (for now), Steve Rodgers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff

Words: 2.6k (This is short but the chapters will be longer)

Note: This is Part 2 of the Shadow Wolf series! This happens in the time span before the epilogue in The Lost Child. This will loosely follow season 5 (and possibly the beginning of 6) of Teen Wolf.

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***

Masterlist

The Beast of War Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Next Chapter

---

Y/N hums to herself as she mixes the ingredients for Stiles’ favorite pancakes in a glass bowl on the kitchen counter. He slept over at her and Derek’s loft since their dad had to work an overnight shift at the station. She hasn’t seen much of Stiles since everything that went down with Hydra, the hunters, and the Avengers. With getting kidnapped and outed as the dead Stark child to the world, she had a lot of shifts to make up for at the hospital. Today is the first morning she doesn’t have to be in at 5 AM, so she plans to make the best of it and catch up with her little brother.

Letting go of the whisk and bowl, she grabs the tongs next to the stove and flips over the bacon she has sizzling in a pan. Y/N is so engrossed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t hear Derek sneak up behind.

“Holy shit,” Y/N jumps as Derek wraps his arms around her from behind.

Derek lets out a low chuckle, “For a werewolf, you have terrible hearing.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at him, “I was clearly distracted.”

“I’d be happy to distract you some more.”

“Or you could set the table?”

“I can do that too.” Derek presses a kiss into her hair before letting go of her. He notices that she has three different pans on the stove cooking bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. “What’s with the big breakfast?”

“It’s Stiles’ first day of senior year, and I feel bad that I haven’t seen him that much since everything that’s happened this summer,” Y/N says, pouring some of the pancake batter onto the griddle she has set up on the counter.

“He slept here for almost two weeks.”

“Yeah, but that’s because he was scared that he was going to lose me. Not that he’d ever admit that.” She says the last part under her breath, but Derek is still able to hear it. “We haven’t had time to catch up lately.” Y/N turns to look at Derek and loses her train of thought when she sees him. He’s shirtless and his blue plaid pajama pants are hanging dangerously low on his hips.

Derek pauses setting out the silverware as he feels her eyes on him. Looking up, he smirks at her eyeing him up and down. He’s about to tease her when she hisses in pain and jumps away from the stove.

Y/N rubs at her arm where she accidentally touched it to the hot pan on the front burner of the stove. She was so distracted by Derek that she wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing.

“I blame you for that,” Y/N mumbles, pouting at Derek as he walks over to her.

“I’m sorry,” Derek presses a quick kiss to her lips before grabbing her arm and pressing a kiss to where her arm touched the pan. There was luckily no burn on her. She either didn’t touch the pan long enough, or it had already healed by the time he got to her.

Y/N thanks him and kisses him on the cheek before turning back to the food before it burns. She continues to hum the tune to the song stuck in her head as she finishes cooking breakfast. She hears Stiles come down the loft’s stairs as she scoops the scrambled eggs into a bowl for the table.

“It’s too early,” Stiles whines, plopping down in a chair at the kitchen table.

“It wouldn’t be too early if you didn’t stay up almost all night last night.” Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles.

“How do you know that I stayed up last night?”

“Because thanks to werewolf hearing, we can hear you typing and scribbling all night,” Y/N replies, setting down the eggs and bacon in the middle of the table. “What were you doing anyways?”

“Research.”

“For what?”

“Another werewolf showed up at the school at Senior Scribe. Well, technically two werewolves showed up, but I’m only talking about one of them. He claims to be Theo.” Stiles says with disdain in his voice as he shovels food onto his plate.

“Should I know who that is?” Y/N asks, setting down a plate of pancakes and sitting down in the chair between Stiles and Derek.

“He used to go to school with me and Scott. His sister, Tara, was found dead in a creek before him and his family moved.”

“Oh yeah,” Y/N says in realization, “I know who you’re talking about. Why was he at the school? And what do you mean two werewolves showed up?”

“Some guy showed up and tried to kill Scott a—”

“What?” Derek stops cutting up the pancake on his plate and looks up at Stiles with a slightly angry look on his face.

“He was talking about taking his power and shit. His claws, which were glowing by the way, were in Scott when Scott broke his arm and some of his claws and told him to leave, or he’d break more of his bones. The guy left after that.” Stiles shrugs before shoveling some food into his mouth.

“He just left?” Y/N questions doubtfully.

“Yeah,” Stiles says with his mouth full of food.

Y/N turns her head to look at Derek. She can see he’s thinking the same thing she is. There’s no way a guy tried to kill Scott and then just left when he was unsuccessful. He’s probably hiding out somewhere in Beacon Hills until he heals and then will strike again later. She doesn’t love it, but she sometimes wishes they would stop being so gracious with people’s lives. It seems to cause more trouble than killing them. As seen as what happened with Gerard and Kate.

“How does Theo fit into this story?” Y/N asks.

“He tried to stop the guy that tried to kill Scott.”

“And that’s why you’re researching him?” Derek questions, unsure how that warrants Stiles doing a deep dive on him.

“No,” Stiles huffs in frustration, “It’s because he’s different.”

“Wasn’t the last time you saw him in fourth grade or something like that? People tend to change as they get older.” Y/N says, confused about what Stiles is trying to say.

“There’s just something off about him. Scott doesn’t believe me, but I can feel it in my gut that something is not right about him.” Stiles looks at Y/N with a pleading look, begging her to believe him. Scott thinks he’s paranoid and that he needs to give Theo the benefit of the doubt, but Stiles knows he’s right. Malia also doesn’t understand why he’s suspicious of him.

“If you say there’s something off about him, then I believe you.” She almost asks if she should ask Tony or Bruce to look into Theo, but she thinks that would make Stiles more upset. It’s not that he doesn’t like them, but she doesn’t want it to come off as she thinks he won’t do a good enough job.

It’s been almost three months since she found out she is a Stark. Stiles was insecure about it in the beginning, as was their dad, but they slowly got over their fears as Y/N not only tells them but shows them that she isn’t going anywhere, and they will always be her family. Even though it’s not as prominent anymore, those insecurities are still there.

“Other than this Theo guy, what else is new? How are you and Malia?” Y/N asks, changing the subject.

“We’re good. She got her email that she doesn’t have to repeat junior year. We’re still looking for the Desert Wolf.” Stiles says.

“That’s good.”

“What about you two? What have you been up to?”

“Well, there’s still people pretending to be sick or hurt to meet the long-lost Stark, so not much has changed.” Y/N rolls her eyes thinking about the number of people who show up and disrupt her from helping actual patients just so they can meet her. A few reporters even try to interview her while pretending they need help. Luckily no one has purposefully injured themselves to try and meet her. This has been going on since she went back to work the day after her big press conference.

She’s just happy that nothing about her, Scott, or the others has been exposed. She tries not to think what would happen if the truth about Beacon Hills got out. She can handle people at the grocery store staring at her for being a Stark, but she’s not sure she can handle them looking at her in fear for being a monster.

“Still?”

“People are still showing up at the garage too. There’s not as many as there used to be, but several still love to show up.” Derek says. He wants to complain about it, but all the extra money he’s making is going toward remodeling the Hale house. He will complain about them taking pictures of him though. They think he can’t see when they do it, but he notices when they secretly take pictures of him. He assumes they post them on the internet, but he stays as far away from that as possible.

“Oh, tell him about what happened with those bikes someone left in front of the garage,” Y/N beams at him, proud of what he did with the four motorcycles that were abandoned at the garage. He spent several weeks fixing them up in his free time and even customized them to make them a bit cooler. She will never forget the massive grin on his face when he showed her the first one he finished.

Derek shrugs his shoulders, “I fixed them up and sold them.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his modesty, “He sold them at some show in San Francisco, and they sold for over $25,000 each. He’s already gotten a few emails from people asking him to customize their rides.”

“Really?” Stiles asks with a shocked look on his face.

Derek tries not to blush at Y/N’s praise, “I probably could’ve sold them for more, but I didn’t think anyone would buy one. I’m currently interviewing for a new mechanic to take some of my work because we’ve got some more bikes coming in from people who have emailed me.”

“Speaking of the garage, when are finally going to bring Roscoe in?” Y/N asks Stiles.

“The jeep is fine and doesn’t need to be brought in.” Stiles crosses his arms in defiance.

“It has more duct tape than I did when I was making duct tape wallets in sixth grade—and I had a bucket full of duct tape.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at her, “What else has been going on? You know it’s not going to hurt me if you talk about the others.” ‘The others’ being her other family.

“Um, well, they are currently back at their compound and will be back tomorrow. I’ve been told they’ve each found places they are going to rent until the new Avengers compound is built.” After a few conversations among themselves, the Avengers decided to move closer to Y/N. She made it clear that she has no intention of moving out of Beacon Hills anytime soon.

The new Avengers compound started building two weeks after the fight against the hunters. Even though they still have the lake house, they decided it would be best to get their own separate places until it was finished. Y/N even went with each of them to look at places to rent. She also made Derek promise to lie to them and tell them there were no available units in their apartment building. She likes them, and she enjoys getting to know them, but living in the same building with any of them would be too much for her.

“Tony and Peter still bring me lunch at least once a week.” Y/N continues, shrugging her shoulders in nonchalance. “Steve and Bucky have even brought me food on some of the days I’ve worked for almost twenty-four hours.” She hasn’t had much time to spend with them with how much she’s been working. She feels like she’s barely seen Derek with how much she’s been working.

“What do you talk about with them?” Stiles asks.

“I mostly just talk about work or Derek, or we laugh at the wildly inaccurate articles people write about me. If they ask, I explain more of the supernatural to them, but even I don’t know everything. We mostly just avoid talking about Pepper, Hydra, the hunters, or anything that happened after Hydra kidnapped me and Peter.”

Conversations with any of the Avengers revolve around telling each other about their days with awkward silences in between. She thinks it’s because they see her as family while she sees them as strangers. She can see this look in their eyes like they expect something from her, but she can’t give them what they’re looking for.

“You talk about Derek but not about me?”

“I talk about you too, but I have a hot boyfriend, and I like to brag about him.” Y/N sends Derek a flirty wink while Stiles groans in disgust.

Stiles stands up and brings his dirty plate to the sink, “I should go. I promised to pick Malia up to take her to school.”

“Okay, are you still coming over for dinner tonight?” Y/N scheduled a little family dinner and invited Stiles, their dad, Tony, and Peter. She knows them all separately, but she wants them to all get to know each other as well.

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Stiles yells out, running up the stairs to grab his stuff.

“Okay, well have fun on your first day of school!” Y/N yells back, watching as Stiles stumbles back down the stairs. “Wait!” She shoots up from her chair and grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, running to catch Stiles before he leaves.

“What?” Stiles groans, his hand resting on the loft’s door handle.

“Smile,” Y/N grins, snapping a few pictures of him. ���Don’t roll your eyes at me. You know this is tradition, and I need to send one to Dad—so smile.”

Derek leans against the pillar in their living room, a small smile on his face as he watches Stiles force a smile on his face as Y/N continues to take pictures. “Do you want me to take a picture of both of you?”

Stiles glares at him as Y/N happily hands him her phone. She walks up the few steps up to Stiles and wraps her arms around him in a crushing hug. Derek smiles at Stiles’ embarrassment and takes a few pictures of them.

“I hate you both.” Stiles pushes Y/N off him, pulls open to door, and walks out of the loft.

“Love you too!” Y/N calls after him.

“Should we be worried about this Theo guy?” Derek asks as Y/N shuts the loft door.

“If Stiles says there’s something off about him, then I’m going to believe him unless proven otherwise.” Y/N walks down to Derek and wraps her arms around his waist. He moves his arms around her and pulls her into his chest. “What if we just stayed like this forever?”

“I have no complaints, but I think your job would.”

“I’ll quit.”

“If you say so,” Derek presses a kiss to the side of her head.

“I hope this year they’ll be able to get through school without almost dying several times. Hell, I hope we get through the rest of the year without almost dying several times.” Y/N says after a long moment of silence. She doesn’t need to say who she’s talking about because Derek knows she’s talking about Stiles and his friends.

“Me too. Maybe this year will be different.” They both know that’s a long shot, but they still love to hope.

---

@xxemmarldxx @esposadomd @ladyjenjay @ts1mp0ne @misshale21

@n1ght5h4d3-24 @xoxoloverb

[vigilskeep]

Does nennaia actually like… respect keir does she think it’s sweet what are her thoughts

nennaia has just met keir so i’m still getting a read on this but

first of all, nennaia knows very little about what went down in kirkwall, except whatever vague commentary she’s picked up from cassandra and varric, plus her advisors’ best attempts at explaining it. she’s trying, but a couple of months ago she wasn’t even really very aware that the circle’s human mages and its templars were separate political entities. it’s taking a lot for her to keep up, so the finer details of hawke’s involvement and anders’ actions are a little murky, especially when the full truth is far from freely available. she keeps falling asleep trying to read the tale of the champion. the point is, she has a lot fewer preconceptions about him than basically anyone else at skyhold would

her first impressions: the man she meets seems like a fine warrior. he also seems tired, and she feels an odd kind of grief when she looks at him, his scars, his battered armour, the mangled remnants of one of his slightly pointed ears. i don’t think the plight of people of his heritage has ever really occurred to her. is this what the shems’ world does to them? but he doesn’t seem broken by it, even if a little exhausted, a little too quick to anger. he speaks with purpose and with pride, both of his work in the mage rebellion, and his determination to bring corypheus down for good this time. she approves that his first concerns are for righting his mistakes and for the safety of his husband and his sister while he does so; these are sensible and good things for a man to concern himself with. he does his best, bluntly and awkwardly, to show respect to her—it feels like a long time since someone trying to do that called her hahren instead of herald—and while his pronunciations aren’t perfect, it’s obvious that he has spent a considerable amount of time listening carefully to someone dalish. he’s honest (perhaps a little too honest, with what strikes her as an appallingly fereldan bluntness when it comes to his opinions about some of her colleagues) and he’s terrible at hiding that he wants her to like him. it’s hard not to find at least the latter endearing

[princesspastel8]

• Gentle •

A Sleep token(Vessel) one-shot

No smut, just fluff.

《 First time writing a xreader. So bare with me.》

°this is based on a dream I had. I hope you all enjoy°

~ words used throughout this story: you, your, you're, she, her ~

♡ Story written in Third Person POV ♡

- Life is full of ups and downs. Most go through trauma that shapes and molds them into who they are today. Others seek help. Most live with it. Life is full of trials, some easier than others. You past a few and fail others. Life is full of choices. You may choose good, but everyone is allowed to make bad ones - bad choices.

Life is what you make of it.

But sometimes, life can get lonely. One can surround themselves with family, friends, or maybe even a lover- but most still feel an empty void that no one is able to fill. So you try a different tactic, shopping. This method only hurts your pockets and places others in debt.

Music

A way to express one's self. A way to distract or help concentrate. An alternative method to fill a void.

That is y/n's method. The only one that serves to distract the ache in her heart when the loneliness strikes. Y/n's life is one that most could relate to. Growing up as the middle child, parents constantly arguing, a passive-aggressive older brother, a compulsive lying little sister, and a brother with autism that's a year apart from her in age.

A loving family, on the surface.

There wasn't abuse of any kind, but the weight of responsibility fell onto y/n's shoulders at such a young age. Trying to protect her siblings from hearing their parents fight while watching over her autistic brother. You suffered in silence, thriving for perfection in everything you do to avoid being fussed at and nitpick - while dealing with a little sister that always got her way by lying.

Sure, this life may not be as bad for most - but pain is pain. Trauma is trauma.

As the years pass, the weight of this responsibility grows heavier. Y/n grew up with no friends and not much attention given to her by her parents. You did receive love from your aunts, but that too was cut loose by your jealous mother - having witnessed her daughters grow closer to her sisters.

Middle school came and went, only making two friends - both transfering to different schools. High school came, full of nothing but hardships that caused y/n's trust issues to blossom.

Y/N has been known to be the strong one. Strong and independent - you needed no one, but she did. Y/N struggles to express yourself properly. In times where crying is needed, you'd turn to anger - wrath - until she snaps. Having to deal with a narcissistic toxic best friend, you desperately needed someone - anyone. Y/N couldn't let the best friend go, having been your only friend at the time.

Y/N didn't want to be alone.

But the dating began....

Relationship after Relationship leaves you more battered and bruised than the last, but senior year comes - and you meet him. A man Y/N couldn't get enough of. A man who knew her better than you knew yourself. A man who also hurt her in the end.

He did return, making amends - but nothing comes from this. Your heart, however, still wanted him - but you knew you had to let him go.

Have you ever encountered someone and began to picture how your life would pan out if you were to be with them?

Y/N did, with that man. She could see her life pan out differently, the opposite of what she wanted.

To put it quite frankly, Y/N is terrible at love.

How can she spot a good man when Y/N's father has only ever been an example of the bad? He did try his best, but it wasn't enough.

So here she is, now living with the aunt that showered her in the attention she needed as a child. Life is better, more calm - peaceful. The once suffocating responsibility is light. She has friends who are trustworthy, loyal, and honest. That deep void full of sadness & loneliness should be gone - yes?

No.

She has love. Love from family. Love from friends. Yet she still longs for something she's no longer sure what it may be.

A lover.

Again, her luck in men is poor. She's never encountered a man who has a gentleness to them. Most men try to use her, her last relationship being the worse. The provoking picking leads to pointless arguments. The pressure to perform lewd acts, only to be left disgusted and full of shame.

At this point, she doubts she'll ever meet a man who will cherish her.

Having never been shown proper love from a partner, she stays to herself. She's still so young. She has time to find the right one, but her mental road blocks prevent her from being optimistic.

Music.

Ah yes, the one healthy method to help sooth the ache in her heart.

Music has been the one thing she fully relied on to help ease the tiniest pitches of pain lingering in her heart. It's only a matter of time before she stumbles upon a band known as 'Sleep Token'. Instantly, she's hooked.

Their songs, their sound - his voice.

She's obsessed, deeply rooted in all things involving this band. Their music, the lyrics, captivating her in a way she couldn't explain. Sleep token brings her peace within her clouded void. They're the perfect distraction.

Soon, she goes to see them live. The experience lights a spark within her, making her truly cherish the art that is Sleep token.

Y/N starts from the back rows, with each passing show - bringing herself closer and closer to the stage until she's front row. Mesmerizing. The only word she could use to describe that breathtaking moment.

Watching Vessel prance around, ii banging out on the drums, iii and his wild antics and screams towards the crowd, and iv- making the ladies scream with his sensual hand motions Truly a experience all should bare witness to. A taste of a drug, and she's addicted.

Every show that's near, she's there, front row with the brightest smile - swaying to each song and softly mumbling the lyrics word for word. Watching Sleep token live & up close has become her only means to de-stress.

It didn't take Vessel long to notice her. Sure, he's performed in many sold-out shows, seen many faces within the crowd- but seeing her front row during his concerts brings a joy he struggles to describe. He sometimes finds himself scanning the crowd in hopes of seeing her, though performing in a state too far for her to travel.

He's just as captivated as she is with him, if not more. The way her e/c eyes sparkle when he performs her favorite songs, the way her h/c hair aligns with the swaying of her hips, and how her smile brightens when she believes they've made eye contact- y/n can never tell due to his mask.

Vessel catches himself singing to her rather than the crowd. He can't help himself. Something about her is so alluring. At some point, he can no loner bare just watching her from the crowd. He wants y/n near, closer.

He proposes the idea of backstage passes, adding heavier security to keep things safer for everyone. iii is always the one doing most of the talking with fans while the other bandmates participate in taking photos. It isn't until the second to last fan leaves that Vessel's efforts finally paid off.

There she is, smile so bright, it's blinding. He's the first to approach her, hands clasp together in thanks as he nods his head to her.

"Oh my gosh, Hi! Uh- hello! I'm a huge fan. I hate that I haven't discovered you guys sooner. Your music is amazing, I love what you guys do! I try to come to every show to gather in worship with you all!" She geeks, rambling nervously.

Vessel watches her, his heart light & full of joy. He chuckles, "Yes. I've noticed."

Silence.

His bandmates are surprised, but y/n looks as if she's about to faint. Vessel doesn't speak directly, nor indirectly to the fans. Its apart of his persona as 'Vessel'. Nevertheless, why did he speak to her out of all the fans he's encountered today?

"Y-Y-You have?" She gulps, stammering over her words.

He smiles, taking the pen and notepad from her hands. "Yeah. It's hard to forget a smile as bright as your own." He said, writing his autograph as well as a little note only meant for her eyes.

The others share a look from behind their mask, walking up to the two. iii grins, giving y/n a side hug while signing the next page. ii and iv following suit while iii does most of the talking. Vessel stays near, a smile tugging at his lips. The sparking joy in her eyes makes his heart leap.

Y/N turns back to Vessel, a blush growing on her cheeks. She's gotten a picture with all the other members, except him. "U-Uh...can- I mean, may I have a picture?" She didn't forget the compliment made about her smile.

He nods, moving to stand next to her and places his hands together. He keeps a good distance, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Once the picture is taken, Y/N gives her thanks that turns into rambles again. Noticing this, Adam comes over to inform y/n that time is up.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I know you guys must be exhausted. Thank you...so much!" She smiles, about to turn away.

Vessel stops her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She turns to look at him, eyes wide. "I'll... see you at our next show, right?"

Y/N still isn't used to Vessel talking so freely like this - she'll never be. With a quick nod, she says, "Well, duh! Front row, too!"

He laughs, her enthusiasm contagious. "Looking forward to it." He hums, waving as she leaves.

iii is the first to speak up, "mate, what the hell was that?"

Vessel turns to them, shrugging with a grin. "She waited all that time to meet us. Wanted to give her something worthwhile."

ii nods, understanding his reasoning - but that grin of his tells a different story. "Right... but be careful. Some fans can be pretty -"

"Yeah, yeah." Vessel waves him off, still feeling giddy from finally being able to properly meet you, talk to you.

iv grins, putting two and two together but stays quiet. He, to, has noticed your familiar face in the crowd of their shows. He knows true devotion when he sees it. This goes beyond loyalty. This runs deeper. Whatever Vessel is planning, he's sure it's for the betterment of her as well as himself.

Y/N makes it home, heart full of happiness. She rushes to her room to share her time with yet the same guy mentioned before - the one who knows her better than she knows herself. However, he wasn't amused. He showed no signs in wanting to share her joy. He does that, showing no enthusiasm when it comes to anything he doesn't like - Sleep Token being on that list.

With each passing text, her excitement & joy die down - turning stolis. Wish a heavy sigh, she places her phone down, curling up in bed. She should cut ties with him. They have no future together, so why hold on to hopeless love?

Time.

So much time has been invested into this person. Starting over is out of the question. Going through opening up, being vulnerable to another potential partner isn't a option. Y/N doesn't want to risk having to bare yet another broken heart.

She holds her notepad close to her chest before opening it, smiling sadly at their signatures- until looking at Vessel's. Her eyes nearly bug out of her sockets. She traces her fingers over the writing in complete shock.

".....why would he...me? Of all people.." she questions while staring at the phone number written under his name.

"It's a joke...has to be..."

But Vessel wouldn't joke about this. He wouldn't joke about the risk of exposing his identity. Though a leak did take place, it didn't blow completely out of proportion. However, the Sleep Token members did have to go radio silent until the mess died down.

.....so why would Vessel risk it happening again?

Being skeptical, y/n grabs her phone - putting the number in before shooting a text. "This isn't a real number. As if he'd - "

Her breath is caught in her throat at the immediate reply.

"How long were you going to keep me waiting?"

"....there's no way I'm texting THE Vessel from Sleep token."

[Image attached] "Believe me now?"

"AAAAHHHHHOUVVY8C8RX7RXT- NO WAY!"

Vessel sent an image of himself in their tour van still dressed in his costume, about to prepare for bed. Y/N's head is reeling. This can't be real. It has to be a dream - a sick twisted dream. She gulps, grabbing her phone and gathering courage to read his replies.

"💀"

"I didn't scare you off, did I?"

"Come back, love. I promise I don't bite."

"This is a dream. This whole day is a DREAM! THIS CONVERSATION ISN'T REAL!"

"Its not-"

"IT IS!"

"Love, breathe. This is real. I'm real."

"Ok...ok, I'm breathing, but..why? Why text me? Why even give me, a fan, your number? For all you know, I could leak this and cause from really bad damage."

"Are you?"

"Of course not! I'm just making a part here!"

"I see...well, it's alright. This is a burner phone anyways😊"

"I-"

"🤓 I'm smart enough to know how to cover my tracks."

"Oh? So this isn't the first time you've done this?"

"No love, you're the only one.😇"

"Don't believe you.😕"

"Would looking through my phone help defend my case?"

"Hm...maybe-"

"🚩🚩"

"Haha, very funny. Fucking hilarious🙄"

"🤣 jk jk. But it's late, you should rest."

"Not really sleepy🤷🏾"

"Really? You seemed pretty exhausted to me. Want to discuss what's keeping you up?"

Should she tell him? That's considered trauma dumping- right? Besides, they hardly know each other. She wouldn't want to waste a once in a lifetime moment by chasing him away. So with a heavy sigh, she replies -

"No, no, I'm ok! I'm sure you're far more drained! You were a ball of energy on stage today. You and the others deserve much needed rest! I'll leave you be now, bye!"

And with that, she turns her phone off, to anxiety driven to dare leave him on open. She wouldn't get much sleep that night, still in disbelief of what took place. Nothing about her is that special, so it's hard to believe when he said she's the only one. Maybe looking through his phone will give her a moment of clarity.

Vessel, on the other hand, has the biggest smile on his face. "Damn, she ran away."

iii looks over, taking off his mask. "Who?"

"...bloody hell I didn't ask for her name." Vessel huffs, tossing his burner phone aside as he prepares for a quick, much needed shower.

iv raises a brow, "That girl from earlier? You gave her your number?"

Vessel smiles, looking at his bandmates. "Maaaaaaybe?" Before they can question him further, he dashes away to the bathroom.

Though, after his shower, he's faced heavy interrogation. ii & iii let up only a bit after being told it's a burner phone number. , however, r is still suspicious. Why is his friend being so friendly with a random fan? What about her makes her importance?

It's the next morning, You didn't get any rest. How can you? You're still questioning if last night was a dream, so you grab your phone - turning it on. Her heart thumps as her cheeks grow red.

"Wait, you don't have to share if you don't want to."

"I apologize for intruding."

"Rest well."

"Good morning, love."

"What's with the nickname?"

"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

"My bad, good morning. What's up with the nickname?😐"

"If I say it's a British thing, would you buy it?"

"No.😐😑😐😑"

"🤣 I don't know your name."

You sigh heavily, pitching the bridge of your nose. Why are you being so rude? Maybe because of the little sleep you got, thanks to a certain someone.

"Oh... right, it's Y/N"

Vessel smiles at her message, finding her feisty & sarcastic messages to be amusing. He hopes he gets to experience this side of her in person. He wants to witness all sides of what makes her - her.

"Pretty name, love. I gtg- just made it to our next stop. I'm looking forward to seeing you gather with us in worship🙏🏻"

You don't reply, needing to get ready to see them again, front row. She's eager to see them perform again. However, her mood is quickly soured by a message from him.

"Another dry text...if he doesn't want to talk.. he should say that.."

She gulps, debating on replying or not. How does one reply to an 'ok' text? So with a heavy heart, she leaves him on open - something she's never done in all the time she's known him. Whenever their conversations run randomly dry, she would send memes or funny videos in hopes it'll start a conversation- but it never does.

A few days before the concert, he tried sexting her, but she wasn't in the mood. It happens sometimes, and normally, he'll bounce back and understand. But this time feels different, like he placed a wall up all because she wasn't in the mode. Maybe leaving him on read will make him see how hurt she is.

Once ready, she drives two hours to the next town - booking her hotel. She gets there hours before the show starts, watching the team continue their set ups. There's only a handful of people there, most still at work since it is a weekday. She doesn't notice that Vessel is watching her from backstage.

Immediately, he knows something is off. The sparkling light in her eyes dimmed. He raises a brow at you, continuing to check your phone only for your eyes to dim even more. She's sad, and he's eager to know what or who is causing it. He just wants to see her smile again.

His bandmates notice his stare, their eyes locking onto you. "Mate, you look like a lost puppy dog," iii snickers.

"She looks sad..." Ves said, pouting.

"Obviously," ii points out.

iv sighs, turning up his guitar. "Then let's do what we do best." He nods.

And they did, performing for the crowd while Vessel performed for her. He can't help the smile that grows from seeing your own. It truly brings a joy that he can't comprehend.

The show went on without a hitch, the crowd cheering with gratitude as Vessel bows. He moves in front of you, bending to one knee with his hands clasp together in thanks. He stays in that position for a few seconds before raising his head, catching sight of your breath taking - dazzling smile.

The view almost makes him break character. He stands, giving the crowd one last bow before leaving the stage - sparing you one last glance before disappearing behind the curtains. A sigh of triumph leaves his lips as he sits down, his crew gathering around and packing things up.

"Her smile is pretty bright." iv admits.

"Did you hear the way she screamed at me? That girl knows how to play the bit." iii grins.

- The classic "ARE YOU IN PAIN LIKE I AM?! -

- iii "I don't think so" -

Vessel opens his mouth to reply, but he hears a 'ding' come from his burner phone that's laid on a table behind him. He picks it up, face lighting up under his mask at the sight of your name on his screen.

"Be careful now, Bowing and smiling at me like that. Wouldn't want word spreading of you having favorites🤭"

"A message from your sunshine already?" iii grins, looking over his shoulder.

Vessel reaches back, placing his hand on his face to push him back playful. "For my eyes only, mate." He chuckles, shooting a reply.

"I have to display my gratitude for your loyalty towards us."

Vessel almost slipped up and said 'towards me,' but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

She smiles, now in her hotel room. She takes a quick shower and settles for bed before replying to him.

"Well, regardless, you guys have made my days a lot more brighter. I wish I had discovered you guys sooner. 🥺"

Vessel didn't reply right away. He took a shower and made his way to the let out bed within their tour van. When comfortable, he opens your message, smiling. But he remembers that distance look in your eyes, a look of hurt shadowed by her forced smile. Something happened. He's eager to know what or who caused you pain, but again, he doesn't want to overstep.

"Thank you, love, but I have to ask. Is everything alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seemed...off. I don't know you well, but I know pain when I see it. If you want to share....I wouldn't be opposed to listening."

You feel a bit...blindsided. You're known for being able to mask your pain very well. Its apart of your 'tough girl' act after all. You two don't know each other personally, but for him to see right through you is astonishing. Only one person has been able to do that....and he hasn't sent a text just to check in. Vessel gave her the opportunity to open up, but her instinct is to reject it automatically.

"Nothing is wrong, but thank you for asking! I'm just a bit jet lagged from driving most of the day. Well, it's getting late, and you have a show to do so rest up! Goodnight🤗"

She places her phone down with a heavy heart, curling up in her bed as she sighs. It's ironic how the one that checked in on her isn't the guy she was hoping to do that.

Vessel, too, places his phone down - heart oddly tight. He isn't sure why he has such a longing attraction towards you, but he's eager to know more about you - and to witness more of your blinding smile.

•

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•

•

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A week turns into a month and a month into a year. Vessel & you have gotten closer. You also have gotten to know the other bandmates quite well. iii is a ball of energy that's always ready to start some shenanigans. ii and iv are more mellow but hold great conversation.

Then there's Vessel. You don't want to admit it, but you found yourself beginning to develop feelings for him. His laugh, silly jokes, and his smile brightens your day. The way he comforts you and is able to tell when you aren't in the best of moods sets your heart ablaze.

Unfortunately, you live in the United States and him in the United Kingdom. Most interactions are done over the phone or video chat. It isn't until you obtain a visa to live in the United Kingdom for a whole year that you've gained more time to spend with them.

But once again, your attention is focused elsewhere. It didn't take Vessel and the others to realize that your attention seems to be stuck on a man you can't seem to let go of. They've tried to get you to open up about him, but you'll brush them off - saying over and over that it's no big deal.

It was only a matter of time before Vessel lost his patience with you. He would've waited, for as long as it took, but the end of your visa is nearing - and the thought of you running into the arms of another man pushed him over the edge. He's longed acknowledged his feelings towards you. He would show his affection discreetly and make jokes on what it'll be like if you two were together. He just wishes you'd give him a chance.

Though you two are on a silent treatment, that didn't stop him from allowing you to attend band practice for their upcoming UK tour. But just like every other band practice, your face is in your phone - tears would sometimes build in your eyes until you look up and force a smile to push the tears back down. The lump in your throat would continue to fill until you rush home and cry yourself to sleep.

And here you are, repeating the cycle. This guy has yet to check in to see if you're well after you left him on open for the second time. Once again, his dry replies leave your heart aching. Two nights before, he was trying to engage in sexting with you once more, and you turned him down. You weren't in the mood. All you wanted was conversation, but he wouldn't give you that.

For the first time in the many years you've known him, you feel used - tossed away when you didn't give him what he wanted. It hurts. The pain makes your heart burn and fill with agonizing loneliness that's too much for you to bare. A lone tear slips from your eyes, bringing an abrupt halt to Sleep Token's band practice.

"Who do I need to go fuck up aye?" iii huffs angrily, stretching his long limbs.

"Huh?" You question, not realizing a tear fell from your eye.

"You're crying..." ii points out with iv joining your side.

You force a tight smile, waving them off as you set your phone down. "I'm fine, you guys! I-I just uh...saw a sad video on snapchat, that's all! Keep playing. You guys are doing amazing!" You cheer, not fooling anyone.

The band shares a look of worry, Ves finally speaking up. "Let's take a break. Why don't you guys go grab pizza? I'll set up Elden Ring."

The three picked up what Vessel is putting down. He wants to be alone with you. iii grins, nodding his head as his long legs take him out of the room. ii & iv follow behind.

"Oh wait I'll go with-"

"Nah, we're good! Can't leave Ves alone for too long, or he'll 'accidentally' break or get stuck in something." iii snickers, further pushing the theory of Vessel being a cat at heart.

"Fuck off!" He laughs, shooing them away.

The moment they're gone, the tension rises instantly - becoming too suffocating. Vessel looks as calm as he can be while setting up the game, while you look stressed & bothered. You take in a deep breath, glancing down at your phone to still see no messages from the man you're still trying to hold onto.

She releases a shakey sigh, the lump in her throat building. This isn't fair. She invested so much of her time, so much of her heart into this person. Why is he suddenly treating you this this? It hurts. It hurts it -

"It hurts." You say aloud, drawing Vessel's attention.

"What hurts love?" He asked, moving to sit cross leg on the ground in front of the tv - his back turned to her.

"My heart...it hurts. I put so much time into him. Time I can't get back! It isn't fair! I don't give him what he wants, and he just tosses me to the side?! He had never been like this before! I-I just..." her throat closes in, her eyes beginning to build with tears.

Ves keeps his eyes trained on the screen, trying to defeat a boss. "Keep going, I'm listening." He said calmly, wanting you to get it all out. He wants you to finally open yourself up to him. He's been aching to cross this line with you.

She bites her lip, shaking her head as she sniffles. The thought of having to start over, be vulnerable again to someone else, is far too scary. She can't. She won't. She swallows the lump with force, blinking her tears away. You can't handle being rejected anymore.

So you smile, a smile Vessel has grown to hate. A smile used to mask your pain while your eyes screamed for mercy. He's not your hero, nor is he a savior - but he's willing to do what he can to fill your world back up with the joy you deserve.

"No..N-No it's nothing. I'm fine."

Hearing that, he pauses the game, standing to his feet. He turns to you, walking towards you. You raise a brow, reminded of the height difference between you two as he gets closer. You take a few steps backward, feeling the atmosphere shift to something... you're unfamiliar with but not apposed to.

"Whoa- what are you -"

He places his hands on your shoulders, carefully pushing you against the wall. You're not given a chance to process what's happening. His lips now press against your own. Your eyes widen, body frozen in shock - but you don't push him away. Vessel moves closer, one hand moving to your waist and the other to her cheek - making you tilt your head to kiss him back.

This...isn't anything you've experienced before. His hands are rough, yet his touch is so light, feathery. He pulls you even closer, body pressing against your own. He deepens the kiss, hoping to convey his feelings through this - praying they finally reach you.

You feel yourself melt against him, closing your eyes as you kiss him back - the shock fading. You fall deep into his tenderness, his touch so serene. Most men are forceful when it comes to their advances towards you. You thought that's how it's supposed to be. You weren't shown the rights and wrongs of dating. Therefore, you experienced so much hurt - feeling pressured to please your partners until you can't take it anymore.

Never once have you had a man touch you as if you were the finest glass - a man holding you so gently as if you were a porcelain doll. This....is all so new. A lone tear slips your eye, your heart exploding with so many buried wounds and fragments kept deep inside - too scared to face, but Vessel brought them out with a simple kiss.

He pulls away, chuckling at her daze expression. He moves his thumb over her eyelashes, drying her tear away. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. A part of her feels light, calm - but the other is hurting, trying to twist this intimate moment into something it's not.

"Why?" Y/N question as he pulls further away. "Why did you do that?"

"I've been pining for you since the moment I saw your beautiful smile. That smile sparked something in me. The joy in your eyes made me smile. I wanted to know more about you, see more of you, and get to know you." He sighs, shaking his head. "But you continued to turn me away, your foucs stuck on someone who doesn't deserve your fragile - clement heart."

Vessel steps back, moving to sit back down on the ground - resuming his game. He figures you'd need a moment to process his words, and you did. However, that other part of you is polluting your thoughts - telling you he's feeding you lies. No man can show such genuine emotion without hinting at a ulterior motive.

"Stop...stop lying to me, Ves. Don't feed me false hope!"

"What reason would I have to lie?" He questions, not turning away from the screen. "I risked so much just to have you this close to me. iv could've been right. I could've ruined this band by being so open and willing to let you into our world, my world. You could've exposed so much of us, but you dudnt. And that...that made me fall more for you, love." He pauses the game, turning around to look at her but doesn't leave his spot on the ground. "All I want in return...is for you to trust me. Trust me with your heart Y/N. Open yourself to m-"

"I can't!" Y/N shout, the tears breaking way - your sobs racking through your body. "I just can't! I can't start over! It hurts too much! I've been hurt... so many times, Vessel. If I open up and get left again.. I-I don't think I'll be able to handle another heartbreak. Please just let me g-"

"I gave you a taste of what you deserve. Are you willing to give up so easily? I, too, have been hurt. I take what I've learned from that pain, heal, and continue with my life. Yes, it gets hard. Yes, some days are worse than others , but I push through. I push through in order to gain what I know I deserve. My love, you can do the same. Until you're able to, just lean on me."

His words only make her sob harder. He opens his arms, a smile on his lips. Her body moves on its own, moving onto his lap and allowing him to hold you as you cry onto him - opening up about everything.

"We're only human, love. We're flawed creatures. We aren't meant to be strong all the time. You should've never been placed in those positions you were forced into. You deserve to be pampered, loved, and cared for. You aren't an object for men's pleasure. You're a woman who desires love. Nothing is wrong with that."

You nod, leaning your head up to look at him. "I'm sorry..." Y/N whisper.

"What for?"

"That stupid argument, undermining your feelings, and just overall being so mean to you at times. You dont deserve that...gosh, I'm such a mess." You laugh, smiling sadly.

He smiles, bringing his hands up to dry her tears. "It's alright, I apologize for snapping at you. I just... couldn't take the thought of you leaving and returning to that...fucking jerk."

You giggle, his pout making your smile brighten. "You were jealous?"

"Yes! Your face would sometimes be in that phone, wanting for that idiot to reply to you with something meaningful! Bloody hell, I almost snatched your phone so many times." He grumbles.

You lean forward, pecking his lips. "I'm sorry. I'll block him...for real this time. It's time to let go...."

Vessel stares down at her, her smile making his heart skip and eyes fill with so much adoration towards her. "Be mine."

Your heart skips, but your happiness dies down as quickly as it comes. "I want to...I want to give you a chance, but I have to leave to the US. You have another tour coming up. I don't think -"

"No. I'll make it work. We'll make it work. I've waited so long for you, and I won't let you slip through my fingers. Not anymore."

He captures your lips again. This kiss filled with passion yet holds so much gentleness. Both melt into the other, their feelings finally reaching the one another. Vessel's patience and understanding have truly paid off. You will work on yourself. You will work to become the best version of yourself, not only for yourself - but for Vessel too. The both of you deserve happiness and a life full of love.

"Ahem." iii clears his throat, a cheeky grin on his face. "Ooolala! Did we interrupt a precious moment? ii you got that on video, right?"

"Yup." He said, still holding up his phone.

iv holds his hands up, displaying he has no part in their antics. Vessel huffs, gently moving you off his lap. He pecks your forehead before charging at iii, chasing him around the room - eventually wrestling him. ii would join in, feeling iii out numbered, but Ves doesn't back down.

You laugh at their shenanigans, iv moving next to you to watch as well. "I should apologize."

"For?" You question him with a smile.

"For misjudging you. He's been happier ever since encountering you. You have my thanks." He nods.

Your smile widens, heart swelling with no much joy you can barely take it. She can't remember the last time she's felt this light. "No, no, I understand. Some fans are just badshit crazy. You're just looking out for your friend."

Ves gives up, walking back over to you and lays his head on your shoulder. "Fuckers." He grumbles, hearing them laugh and tease the two of you.

You giggle, kissing his cheek. "I'm sure a bit of food will fix you right up."

He beams, making a dash into the kitchen. He knows if iii gets his hand on the food first - he'll swallow everything whole. Soon, everyone is sitting at the table, talking about the upcoming tour and your departure from them until your visa is renewed.

Though you'll miss them terribly, you'll be leaving on such a high. Having made friends with her favorite band and opening yourself to Vessel has been the highlight of your life.

Every day will now appear far more brighter, thanks to that illuminating smile of yours that started it all.

《 I just want to put a disclaimer. Though I love Sleep token, I'm not some crazed fan that ships myself nor write fanfics or sumt of the members on a daily Occurrence. (No shame to the ones that do. That's just not my cup of tea) I was going through a rough patch of loneliness and decided to watch live shows of them on YouTube to help ease that pain. I ended up falling asleep by doing so - hence the dream I had. Only the second part is my dream. The first half is just a story building.

《 Thank you all that read this, and I hope it helps any lonly girlies out there that are turn to Sleep Token for comfort.

《 Likes and repost are very much appreciated. Much love to you all! 🫶🏾❤️🖤🩶🤍