#it’s certainly something i need to hear so maybe someone else does too

[i-say-stupid-things]

psa: you actually are worth it. you are worth the trouble. you are not too much to put up with. your disability doesn’t make you unlovable. you’re not too much of a burden to “put up with”.

you are amazing and lovely and the right person will come and see just how wonderful of a person you are. your disability changes nothing about that

[pettysreverie]

Kinda really obsessed with the idea of him becoming super obsessed with you after fucking you…

CW: AFAB!Reader, stalking, obsessive behavior, yandere-esque behavior (if I missed something, pls kindly let me know!)

Like, I imagine that maybe he’s just come back from deployment? Would explain why he’s so starved for a good fuck, ya know?

Probably meets you in a pub (bc duh) and after a few drinks between the two of you, you both decide to go back to his place.

He figures it’s gonna be nothing too big of a deal. Certainly nothing he hasn’t done before.

Who hasn’t taken a bird back from the pub for a good fuck?

But the moment he slides into your cunt, he knows that he’d been wrong.

Whatever he’d been doing before was not fucking. Was not having sex. Because sex with you—with your slutty cunt and those heavenly sounds you make—is bewitching.

As if your cunt is putting him deeper and deeper under a spell with every twitch and clench.

A spell he gladly welcomes.

Your body is so soft and beautiful. And you…you’re so pliant and willing—batting those pretty lashes at him with that dazed, fucked out look in your eyes.

And that’s when the spell cements.

When a flip switches inside of him.

When something…changes.

He grips your ankles and hoists your legs over his shoulders to drive his cock even deeper inside of your quivering heat.

Your back bows off the bed and your hands grapple the sheets, moans tumbling from your kiss swollen lips as your eyes nearly roll all the way back.

“Yer mine. All mine.”And there’s a stutter in his breath as he moans, his hips momentarily stuttering in their otherwise relentless movements. “Say it fer me, love.”

But with the way he’s got you practically folded in half—knees all but bent to your chest with your legs draped over his back—replying to him is the furthest thing from your mind right now.

He angles his hips, driving long and deliciously thick cock directly into your sweet spot over and over again—seemingly determined to drive you insane with pleasure.

Seemingly determined to fuck you positively dumb.

“Say. It.”He grits out, his voice taking on an almost animalistic, growling tone.

There is something so primal about his command. Something about it brings out such a fundamental instinct in you that you cannot help but to comply—to submit.

“Y-Yours…”You manage to utter amongst your incoherent babbling and moaning.

One word.

You only speak one word.

But one word is all he needed to hear.

He fucks you well into the morning. The sun rises, its light shining through the cracks in the curtains by the time he turns you loose and allows you to rest.

And rest you do.

When you wake up, it’s practically evening!

You’re quite embarrassed. But like the gentleman he is, he assures you that he does not mind. In fact, he even offers to pay for your transportation home.

You decline, too embarrassed about your faux pas.

And for you? You assume that, while this was an amazing experience, it was a one time thing. You don’t expect to see him again.

But you do.

You run into him again and again and again.

At the market. At the park. At the coffee shop.

It’s fate! It’s the universe! It’s gotta be something, right?

It’s…him.

You really thought he was going to let you go after that world altering fuck? The way you blew his mind? The way your cunt hypnotized him?

Silly, beautiful, stupid woman.

Just the thought of someone else having you like that…no, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

How could he let you get away?

No, he had to hack your phone.

Not like it was hard…sure he’s more of a “field” agent. More used to having a gun in his hand and his boots on the ground, but he’s no stranger to some lines of spyware code.

Besides, you made it quite easy for him by sleeping in as long as you did…not that he minded of course!

You look so peaceful while you sleep. So beautiful, actually.

And really, he was so very glad he’d hacked your phone. How else was he supposed to know where you lived when you rejected his offer to pay for your transportation home?

But now that he’s in your phone, he’s practically in your life already.

Every contact you have saved, he knows.

Every place you go, he knows and can go there too. (How do you think your two have been running into each other so often?)

Every post you like. Every pin you save. Every song you playlist. He knows it all.

Not that you know it…not that you ever will.

He’ll let you believe it’s fate. Or the universe. Or whatever. Doesn’t matter to him, really.

Besides, you’re already his.

You even said so yourself…remember?

(Oh you don’t? Then why doesn’t he just remind you?)

[cruel-as-sin]

how long before you let me go? | logan howlett

↳ summary: riling up logan doesn't go quite how you planned...

word count: 1.3k

song: supermassive black hole | muse

pairings: bodyguard 70s!logan x rich kid fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn light plot, rough sex, overstimulation, mean!logan, hair pulling, mentions of bite marks and hickeys, spanking (so hard it leaves handprints), whiny!reader, unprotected p in v (practice safe sex everyone!), multiple orgasms, reader flirts with someone else to piss off logan (don't worry about me doing this again...), no use of y/n, pre-established safe word, doggy style, logan puts reader in a headlock, light choking accompanying said headlock, some degradation, pet names for reader (sweetheart, brat, slut), reader is a crying whiny mess and logan loves it, logan has insane stamina (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: cas finally posting something!!! (and everyone cheered!) this has been in my drafts for SOOO long and i'm so glad i finally finished it even if it’s shorter than i wanted it to be, logan is sooooooooo hot omfgggg... might turn this into a series bc i feel like this song fits them SO incredibly well

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The problem, if you could call it that, with having sex with Logan is that he Just. Keeps. Going.

Being a celebrities daughter has its perks. A rich lifestyle, for one. Lots of attention, and of course, a bodyguard with muscles that make you drool and a stern voice that leaves you dripping in… other areas.

You two have been having casual sex for about a month and a half now. He’s always been relentless, but usually takes pity on you enough to let up before he’s tired out. And, of course, you have a safeword if you ever need it. Just in case.

You knew he could keep going far longer than the average man, something about his biology letting him fill you up over and over. You didn’t question it- his business was his own, and you certainly weren’t complaining.

Now, though? You might start to complain.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

To back up a little: maybe this was your fault. Okay, it was definitely your fault, but really, could anyone blame you?

It had all started a few days ago, the last time you’d been having sex. His head was buried between your legs, his beard scratching your thighs as his tongue lapped at your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. You were whining his name, about to reach your peak, when suddenly he pulled away, shoving your bedsheets over you and kicking your clothes away as he took a step back.

You’re not sure how he knew- he must have super-hearing or something- but thank god for it, because if he’d noticed only a few seconds later, you two would’ve been interrupted by your father’s knock on the door.

It was a good thing, of course, that he stopped that night, his sharp senses and quick thinking meaning that you could just tell your father that you were changing and Logan was in the bathroom, and even if he had tried to come in, Logan had hidden the evidence well.

Even if it meant you’d spent the rest of that night pent up beyond relief, you were grateful.

Except for the fact that, and this is where the problem starts to come in, Logan had been very clear about one rule when you started sleeping with him: no touching yourself, not without his permission.

And not only does he reject your advances in the following days, claiming it’s too risky now that you almost got the two of you caught (so what if you’d insisted on sneaking away to your room with hardly any time to spare? It’s not like he didn’t agree to join you), he also tells you you’re not allowed to touch yourself, despite the way you beg and plead and give him those puppy dog eyes that you were formerly convinced worked like a magic trick every time.

So… you took matters into your own hands.

I mean, he said you couldn’t touch yourself, right? He never specified that you couldn’t have someone else do it for you.

The way you saw it, flirting with that politician’s son at a party was a win-win. Either you got some probably mediocre sex, but an orgasm was an orgasm (and the possibility of future blackmail was an added bonus), or you pissed Logan off enough that he’d come fuck you, or at least let you do it yourself.

You had been dead wrong.

Well, not entirely. Logan is fucking you. Just not quite the way you hoped.

You’re face down ass up on the bed, your face shoved into the pillows by a firm grip while his other hand digs into your hips hard enough to leave bruises. Your body aches, already littered with bite marks and handprints, and your cunt is sore. He’s given you nothing, the closest thing to foreplay you got being the hickeys claiming you and the spanking you’d been given before he’d all but thrown you onto the sheets and torn off his clothes.

Maybe that was the point when you should have caught on to what was about to happen, but you were a little too desperate to care. Now you suffer the consequences.

He pounds into you relentlessly, never giving you a break, never giving you a chance to breathe. You’ve lost count of how many orgasms he’s pulled from you with his dick alone- four, maybe? And while he’s already cum once, he seems nowhere near done.

You fight to get out his name through the broken moans leaving your lips, eventually managing a strained, “Logan.”

Instead of responding with some sort of mocking tone or insult, he ignores you. Jesus, he’s mad.

“Logan,” you try again, whining his name as he hits that sweet spot deep inside of you.

“What?” He snaps, the way he smushes your head further into the pillow indicating that he doesn’t really want the answer.

When he keeps hitting that spot, your attempts at getting him to stop turn to muffled sobs as you cum once again, clenching around him.

“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He grumbles, groaning softly at the way your pussy tightens around his length. He grips you a little harder, his thrusts becoming erratic as he spills into you for the second time. Within moments, he’s hard again- really, how does he do that?- and you’re back to being used like a stress toy.

It's mind-numbing, a mix of pleasure and pain that has you reeling from every thrust. He keeps angling himself to hit you in the spot he knows makes you cum every single time without fail, and you curse yourself for letting him get to know your body so well as he pulls another orgasm out of you, his name falling from your lips.

When he’s cum a third time and continues to ignore your pleas, you try to squirm away from him. But your body is exhausted, and even at your full strength you’d be no match for him.

"Uh-uh." He grabs you by the hair and pulls your head back, his other hand keeping a firm grip on your hips so he can keep plowing into you. "You wanted this, you fuckin' brat. You're not goin' anywhere."

"Logan." You plead, tears starting to stream down your face. It's too much, he's everywhere, and you feel like his cock might actually fucking kills you. What a way to die.

"Nah, don't give me that shit." He yanks on your hair, and you cry out in pain. "You started this, sweetheart. You're the one who couldn't go a few goddamn days without my fuckin' attention. Be grateful you got it."

"But-"

The hand that's gripping your hips comes down on your ass, hard, the already sensitive skin stinging even more from the blow. "No buts. You get what you get, you hear me?"

When you don't answer, he spanks you again. More tears well up in your eyes, your protests reduced to incoherent babbling as his cock continues to assault you mercilessly.

"I could've tied you down, made you watch me touch myself. Or edged you until you were beggin' me for forgiveness. Maybe made you hump my boot like the slut you are." He growls, delivering another harsh smack to your ass. "I gave you what you fuckin' wanted. Deal with it."

As shameful as it is to admit, the idea of what else he could have done to you and the angry tone he speaks in is the thing that sends you tumbling over the edge once again.

He barks out a laugh, smacking your ass a few more times just to hear the way you cry for him.

"Please- Logan, I'm sorry-"

He releases your hair, and for one stupid, fleeting second you think he might be finished with you.

Instead he wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a headlock, holding you up effortlessly, his bicep flexing against your throat as he thrusts into you with a renewed vigor.

"Shut up." He snarls in your ear, letting the hand that was grabbing your hips snake down to your clit.

If you'd been overwhelmed with the pleasure before, you were fucking dying now. Drowning in it, suddenly thrown over the edge again by those perfect little circles. His grip is tight, the lack of oxygen making your head fuzzy, and you barely register the way you're drooling onto his muscles.

"That's better." He adjusts his grip to give you a little more room to breathe, letting your cries of pleasure ring throughout the room as they begin to turn to pleas for mercy once more.

"Lo-"

He doesn't let you get a word out, spanking you as he buries himself deep inside, his seed spilling into you, filling you up even more thoroughly. His bicep flexes against you, once again adjusting to choke you just a little less.

"Better get comfy, sweetheart." You can hear the sharp grin in his voice as he begins to move again, fingers returning to the sweet torture he's inflicting upon your clit. "We're gonna be here all night."

tags: @flowersforbucky @thinkinonsense @gewrgia-black @wlwloverwrites @buckybarneswife125 @sweetverine @dilfverines @wchswift @namikyento @lokirogersgirl @nymphoniah @logansdoe @robo-writing @atleastpleasetelephone @r0ttedcherubim @logaenhowlett @th3mrskory @pidgeypidge-pidge @lostinlovingrevery @rosenclaws @cenviswasteland @lubdubology @trr3rr @sacredsorceress @howlettsangel @dixie-isnt-cool @blythesarchives @loganismybodyguard

(this is the taglist for my logan howlett one-shots. if anyone would like to be added to or removed from this taglist, or would specifically prefer to only be tagged for f!, m!, or gn! reader, please let me know!)

[cheer-nympho]

Thinking about Eddie driving up to the quarry one night to try and sell to the teenagers that usually hang around here,

But when he gets there only one car is parked and hidden behind the bushes framing the road.

A very familiar BMW with it’s windows steamed up.

‘Of course Harringtons getting some again. Lucky fuck.’ Eddie thinks as he lights a smoke, if only to warm him up a bit in the cold night.

Damn. From the condensation dripping down the BMW windows, they’re having no problem keeping warm.

Even from the distance it takes effort to not startle when the hand slams against the back window, creating a messy handprint on the white glass. Even from here he can see it’s a mans hand. Steve, he assumes. Jesus, whoever he has in that back seat is clearly getting railed practically through the seats.

He should look away, really. Knows that this is a bit fucked up. But…he can’t actually see anything. And really, Harrington shouldn’t have brought her out to the towns most known hangout. And its not like he was straining to hear, they were just SO loud. And…deep?

Eddie’s not exactly a connoisseur in the different noises of women, try as he may, but he’s pretty sure he’s only hearing a man right now. Sure, its still a pretty high pitched and punched out sound but noticeably a dudes- which confuses Eddie for a minute.

Harrington must just be really sensitive and loud. Maybe that’s why he had so many girls falling over him, the noises certainly weren’t turning Eddie OFF the interaction.

He can physically see the change in the cars bouncing when he assumes they’re…’finishing off’

Eddie doesn’t know why he’s still here. He could have- no, he SHOULD have left ages ago. But not long after the bouncing stops, the car door swings over and 2 legs swing out, hands coming down to fix their socks- clearly having hastily thrown his clothes back on.

The only thing is…Eddie doesn’t remember Harringtons legs being so long? The body looks out or place sitting in the open door, not like the familiar and practically famous silhouette of Steve against his vehicle. And it hits Eddie square in the face when the guy stands upright.

Cause Eddie DOES know the guy. He’s just stomach tippinglys aware that it is NOT Harrington.

That’s Johnny. Eddies (admittedly one sided) rival at the hideout. A fucking punk. Not in the way the adults of Hawkins use the term, he’s literally a punk rocker.

And his punk rocker ass is currently stepping out of Steve Harringtons freshly christened back seat. Well that…can’t be right. Harrington must just…rent out his car to couple or something. That must be it. Rich people are weird like that.

His theory is very quickly destroyed as Johnny knocks lightly on the roof of the car, cigarette already in the other hand, and pokes his head into the back. He laughs before a pair of legs flop out of the door. Legs attached to someone clearly too tall for a backseat. Legs attached to someone very male.

He should go. He needs to go. If not because of how his stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself, then because his best-buddy Johnny just tipped his head non-subtly towards Eddie’s van.

‘Shit shit shit shit-‘ He puts the keys in as fast as he can with shaking hands.

— And he so nearly got away too. So nearly never had to look at that BMW or its occupants again, live his life carefree.

All hope of that was cruelly dashed when he left hellfire to see Steve leaning against his van.

He scanned the area, in hopes someone else had stayed late because he was pretty sure Steve was about to give him the “talk and you’re dead” followed by a beating up. And that would suck.

Nowhere else to go but forward, he clutched his DND bag and hobbled over to Harrington- who hadn’t offered him anything other than a blank stare.

“Harrington.”

“Munson.”

“Pretty late to be lurking around school. People might get the wrong idea.”

“Don’t lecture me on lurking, man. We both know you were at the quarry.”

“I don’t really-“

“Johnny told me, would recognise your beat up ride miles away he said.”

Thankfully Eddie had enough brain power in him to add that to the list of reasons to fucking hate Johnny. In the time he had to scowl at the ground, Harrington had rounded behind him. Eddie span to meet him but was met with a rough hand to the chest.

He was pushed up against his van with a sharp movement, pulling a winded breath from him followed by a large ‘bang’ as Steve’s hand slammed to the side of his head.

“So, Munson. What did you see?”

“I didn’t see-“

“Try again.” A hand crept into his hair, not pulling but clearly threatening it with the way it was clasped.

“I saw…you and Johnny. In your car.”

Steve hummed and looked away from Eddie. “That’s not very specific, Eddie, try again.”

“Wha- I don’t know what you-“ The hand in his hair yanked, pulling his head so that even with their similar heights he was forced to look up at Steve, hands gripping uselessly to the side of his van.

“Try again.”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s what he wanted.

“I saw Johnny fucking you.”

He managed to lift his gaze to look at Steve and was met with an almost dopey smirk, his eyes barely focused as they stared down at Eddie half closed. Eddie melted right into the wall of his van because Steve Harrington was looking him like he’d never been hornier in his life.

“Fuck. He was Eddie, he really was and it was so good. You saw it right? Saw the car moving? Shit, man, it’s hard to get it moving like that. He was so rough.” Eddie just stared as Steve started falling further towards him, sinking into the weird little hold they both had.

“But there’s just one problem Munson.” Steve said into the side of Eddie’s neck, making him shiver and use all his willpower to keep his head where Steve’s grip had moved it.

“What- What problem?”

“My car is just too small. We needed more space, I needed more space.”

He brought his free hand up and slammed it to the other side of Eddie’s head. “Do you think you might know anyone with something more…spacious?” And when Eddie clocked exactly what he was implying, what he was begging for- he had never been so thankful for his shitty van.

[unluckilyimnot]

Hi!! Can you do bofurin boys with reader who has an iron deficiency?

S/o / crush with iron deficiency – Sakura, kiryuu, kaji, umemiya, suo

Note: my gf almost has anemia, I know VERY WELL what it is, she's never taking her iron tablets she'll be the death of me

around 0.7k each, slight miscommunication for kaji

m.list | rules

Sakura

The first thing that makes Sakura tick is the fact that Nirei always has hot pads in his pocket or his bag for you. Your hands are always cold, and you vent about it a lot, everybody knows it but nobody asks why. Maybe because they know. But Sakura doesn't, and he also doesn't know how to ask you if it's related to something in particular, or if you're just sensitive to the cold.

Then comes the fact that you're always out of breath, which is a problem when you have a friends' group like them who wander outside a lot. There's not a day without one of them suddenly running after some weird guy or a cat. You rarely follow, taking your time to meet them again later or Suo and Nirei stay with you – it depends. That makes him ten times more curious about it, but he doesn't see himself just ask you why. You're not close enough. Or are you ? He's not so sure.

That's around a rather calm break in a park, in the corner of a little fight, that he built the courage to ask you. Suo has been taking one of the tea bottles away from you when you asked for it and he didn't like being kept out of the general knowledge anymore.

"Why can't you drink tea ?" he asks shyly, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear. You giggle at his question.

"I have an iron deficiency, so it's not recommended to drink tea after eating," you explain, still trying to steal the bottle away from Suo but he's quicker than you, every time. You accepted your fate in the end, which made him smile. Instead, he handed you a lemonade that you reluctantly took.

"It sucks," was all he could think of as an answer at first, not really connecting the dots but he'll search it up. "What else does it do to you ?"

You fake reflection for a second, bringing a finger to your lips. "I feel weak sometimes, so I need to sit out of nowhere because the world spins, you know." You imitate a circle with that same finger.

"My hands are cold and I can't get up too quickly without consequences,” you laugh, “but that's mostly it. I don't have anemia, says my doctor, even if it feels like it," you smile at him when he nods slowly, showing he understood what you just told him.

You didn't expect much after that. It was fair, you even thought that you should've told him earlier since everybody knew already. You thought it would leave his mind quickly, no-one ever thinks about that every day – it's more like they remember every now and then, when you have to sit back immediately after getting up or when you grab someone's arm because the world starts spinning. Apart from Nirei, he's extra careful for some reason.

To your surprise, after the conversation, he got more careful when it comes to you. He might not seem like it, but as a leader now, he takes time out and waits for you more, so everybody does as well.

He stands by your side a lot more when you take a break and sit, you can tell he's trying to do well even if he's not sure. You appreciate it. Every part of it. From him telling everyone to slow down to when he crouches in front of you when you feel weak.

"Y–you alright ? I can hold you back to the station..." he's shy when he tries to help, always. There's people around, his face is all red and he can't meet your eyes – but you can tell by his voice he means it. And it never fails to make you smile

"I'm alright, Sakura, but thank you," even you can get a little shy. "I appreciate it."

He nods, standing up quickly and, after a moment, he holds his arms out for you.

"If you feel weak again, just take my arm ok ?!"

He's a little aggressive, certainly because Suo cooed when he heard him after giggling to himself, but Sakura tries to ignore it. What you can't ignore however, is how hot your cheeks feel at the moment. You take his arm anyway and get up as well, holding it firmly but with a soft smile.

"Thank you, Sakura."

"Yeah, whatever." Again, aggressive but the way he bringed you a little closer tells everything you need to know. That he cares about you, and it warms up your heart.

Suo (afab!reader)

Hanging out alone with Suo is always so relaxing. After spending time with so many people, who run around a lot, staying in silence for a bit is always nice. He's always careful anyway, and he knows that – as much as you love them – you need some alone time, or with him, after spending an afternoon with them. 

As soon as he noticed you were a little too much behind, he checked on you instantly. Kindly ask you if you're tired with a soft smile, one you can't send any hint of malice in. It didn't take more than that for you two to leave and take the road to his place. 

"Your hands are cold again," he mentioned on the way when your hand brushed against his, like taking note to himself. You simply nod, you get used to it even if it isn't nice. It is what it is. 

"I'll make you something hot," Suo doesn't waste time and leaves you the living room as soon as you arrive. Sitting there in silence, you take out your phone and scroll through the thousand of messages they've sent on the group chat – messing with Sakura again because he's too slow to answer. 

Suo comes back quickly with some snacks first, he carefully puts them on your side of the table. Then a second time with two fuming cups. He left the white one in front of you, filled with hot chocolate. You frown but still take a look at his cup, to find out its tea. A pout show on your face ; you wanted tea as well. 

"Why are you the only one having tea ? I wanted tea too," you shake his sleeve in the process. 

He doesn't seem to care, putting the cup to his lips and taking a sip. 

"If I recall well, you're on your period, right ?" 

You fell silent for a second, before sighing. Of course he remembers.

"Yes..." 

"Then no tea for you, my darling," he's a little too satisfied to turn you down, even if it's to take care of you. You want to rip the silly smile off his lips. 

"Just a sip," you begged quietly but he shook his head, putting his cup away from you. 

"Don't be silly. You'll have some in a few days," his hot hand gently cradles your cheek before kissing your forehead. "Warm up your hands." 

It's a soft command and you obey without giving it a second thought. Your ice cold hands warmed up in a minute with the hot cup between them and you lay on his shoulder for extra comfort. It feels nice. His hearing slightly brushing your cheek, tickling a little but you don't mind, his seemingly stiff appearance is soft around you and you couldn't ask for a better afternoon’s end.

Kiryuu

If there is one thing you love more than anything, it’s spending time at Kotoha’s place with the boys. It’s simple, you spend the afternoon drinking tea and talking – so much you could mistake it for a girls’ meeting if it wasn’t for the sappy jokes only boys can make. You laugh anyway, all afternoon, until the corner of your mouth and cheeks hurt. Enough for your head to hurt. Between the lack of sleep last night and not eating enough at lunch, blood was pounding in your head painfully.

“Are you ok ?” Kiryu, who was sitting across from you, asked while Nirei and Sakura were arguing again.

“Headache,”you said simply, putting your hand on your forehead. “It’s nothing, but I might leave soon.”

“I’ll get you some water first. I’ll walk you home,” he smiled before getting up slowly. It wasn’t a question, you didn't have the choice here but you weren’t arguing. You felt weak for no particular reason, it was a day without and didn’t want to tempt the devil; you had one or two bad experiences.

He was back quickly with a glass of water and, after you finished it, he took his jacket and gave you his hand to hold. You waved everyone goodbye before taking the road to your parent’s house. The walk is silent for a while, you don’t have much to say neither does he it seems like but it’s fine for you. You’re just comfortable around him. He knows when there’s something wrong and he’s by your side all the time, you just love having him around. He’s a really good friend.

Yeah. Friend.

Suddenly, you lose balance. You didn’t trip on something, like you thought at first, no, no. The world starts spinning out of nowhere, your vision is filled with stars in a second and if it wasn’t for the arm around your waist, you would probably have hit the wall. Warm got to your cheeks instantly when he held you even closer, when you realized your fingers wrapped around his jacket like your life depends on it. You push him away, but not too fast to not rush your body.

“I’m so sorry, Kiryu, I didn’t mean to–”

“Are you ok ?” He doesn’t want to let you go, still holding your clothes firmly – his voice laced with worry.

“Yeah, it just happens sometimes…” you’re feeling shy now. You never wanted to make him worry, but it wouldn’t be helped now, right ? You didn’t miss the frown on his face before he smiles softly your way again.

“I’m never letting you leave alone then,” he joked, voice light and he made you giggle a little. But his arm hooked with yours and he didn’t let go before you were a step into your home. Safe.

“Thank you again, Kiryu. I appreciate it.”

“Always, don’t be scared to ask. I’ll always answer.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and your cheeks feel red once again. The way his eyes are soft when he looks at you, longing a little more than he should maybe but he doesn’t move.

“I will.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, only for him to hear and that’s enough to him. He leans in and ruffles your hair.“Rest now, see you tomorrow !” And just like that, he leaves you on your porch, not knowing what to do with your heart beating way too fast.

Kaji

When you know Kaji’s on patrol around your school, you always take a walk with him and his friends during your break. It became a habit, you can’t help but do it now – even if it rains. You just came back from the local store, a bag of lollipops in your hands. He ran out and, as you needed something to eat as well, you told him you’ll get some. 

Handing it to him, your hand brushed against his. It’s not the first time. You already hold hands once to help you run away from a situation, but it never fails to make your heartbeat speed up a little. You were about to look away, trying to push the feeling away. 

“I fucking hate it,” Kaji spits out. It’s not even in your way, he’s cursing under his breath but you can’t help but take it for yourself. 

“Excuse me ?!” you yelled, ready to throw hands. You just handed him the lollipop’s bag he asked you, that you kindly brought him on your break time for that ? Not even a thank you.

“Because my hand brushed yours ?! What, you think I've got the plague ?”

He’s too stunned to speak for a second, looking at you with widened eyes before frowning at you. 

“It’s always freaking cold ! I hate it !” Right after saying it, he knows he fucked up. 

He didn’t mean it like that. But it’s too late. You scoff loudly. You need to take a step back, sending him daggers. 

“Oh because you think I like that ? It ruins my life but I am really sorry it bothers you. I’ll think twice before having a deficiency next time,” you sarcastically answer, rolling your eyes. You’re speaking so fast, he can’t even hope to talk back. “I’ll make sure to never touch you again !”

“Let me speak !” he barked, getting up so quickly you barely had time to take another step back. Before he can do anything your phone rang, cutting him and telling you it was time to go back. 

He kept his hand for himself, not looking at you as you left without another word but Gods he hates it. All of it. You leave angry, because he knows you’re gonna think about it all afternoon, and he feels like shit, because he can’t even speak when he has to. 

He came back to your school’s gate by the end of your day and sat on the bench in front of it, waiting to see your pretty, probably upset, face walk out. He’s not supposed to be there, Umemiya asked them to come back for a meeting but at the moment he couldn’t care less. He had to fix this. His hands in his pocket, he waits patiently until he catches your silhouette coming closer. 

Kaji gets up and walks to the front of the gate. You’re glaring at him again, walking past him without a second look. Your jaw clenches when you hear him following you.

“For the record, I don’t want to see your face right now. Let alone talk to you, so lea–”

“Don't look at me the ! Just take this,” he voice is soft despite all the emotions rushing inside his mind at the moment, but he knows better than to listen to it. 

Softly, he catches your wrist and slips a hand warmer between your fingers. It was already warm, meaning he broke it before giving it to you and it takes everything in you to turn around and apologize. Your heart skips a beat when his fingers hold onto you a second too long. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, you know,” you turned around to look at him, not strong enough to ignore him when he’s speaking his mind. It’s hard enough for him. He looks away when he catches your eyes. “I’m just angry that I can't help it,” he confesses, louder than he wanted to but kept his chin up, not showing any sign of embarrassment. 

Beside his red cheeks, but you won’t mention it.

“Then, think before speaking next time,” you say as you look at the ground, but not upset anymore. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You nod, not thinking about it anymore. Your hands are warmer and his didn’t leave your wrist, better, he’s almost holding your hand and that gives you much more things to think about.

Umemiya (based on a real date with my gf)

Looking around this gigantic book shop is always so nice. Umemiya and you love books, so it's always a good idea to take a look around here, even if you don't buy anything. It's a cute date, as simple as it is.

You like how he stops behind you to read above your shoulder before asking you what it is about as if he doesn't know yet. There's so many books, comics, manga, you don't know where to look ! And you two always go through the 3 floors to be sure you see it all – even you already know the pace by heart.

"Oh look," Umemiya gasped.

You hum as you turn around to see him showing you a red cover you know too well.

"It's still there ! And Hiragi was worried he wouldn't find it for my birthday..." He took a second to stare at it, finding the details again with the shadow of a smile on his lips, making you smile as well.

"Ok my turn," you say, making your way to him and grabbing his arms to lead him to the manga section. You looked around the shelf, looking for soothing in particular before gasping softly. "There."

"See that ? Remember the cover please, I'd love to have it for my birthday! You know, it's like Tokyo Revengers, but they're just high schoolers fighting to protect their neighborhood."

"Sounds like something I'll do," he jokes, taking the book in your hand to take a better look. You giggle.

"That's why I like it."

After you get around your manga selection, and ask approximately 30 times if he remembered well, you two go to the underground level, consisting of books in foreign languages and research books. You like to read your book in English, even if it takes a lot of time, you want to get better at it so you often end up down there. Umemiya never finds his happiness, but he's happy as long as you do ! Instead, he spends more time around the research side – who knows, he might as well develop a passion for ships while reading a summary.

It hasn't happened yet, though.

If there's no book you're looking for, you honestly don't spend much time there. You feel bad to make him wait longer than necessary. Yet, you take your time, looking more than you needed, feeling a little weak at the moment. Grabbing the shelf behind you for a second, the time you steady yourself and take a breath, then you're ready to go.

"Let's go, Ume ?" You ask as you turn to the other side of the room but not too loud. You don't need to, because he's next to you in a second.

"Yeah, I need to pay for this then we're done."

You nod. You didn't plan anything to do after that, and you're glad because as you walk up the stairs you can feel your head spinning before your sigh completely black out once you reach the 1st floor. Grounding yourself on the first shelf you can feel, you close your eyes for a second – you're about to pass out seriously.

Umemiya calls out your name but you don't answer, being a little too slow at the moment. But you can hear him coming quickly next to you and his hands find your waist, holding you back to him as he moves you away to not bother anyone.

"Sorry..." you whisper, trying to blink the dark and stars away.

He shook his head, "It's ok, we have time."

You two fall into a comfortable silence, people are talking and walking around, not really caring about you two and it's better like that. You slowly got your vision back.

You push him away carefully once its fully back, but he's not letting go of you, not after that. You two make your way to the cashier, his arm holding yours as of his life depends in it ; more like the opposite if someone asks you. Yet you're glad, because you actually feel how weak your legs are. He's quick but polite, smiling for the few minutes he talked with him. Without even realizing it, you're already outside, the fresh air doing wonders to your body.

"We're gonna grab something to eat now," he giggles but you can feel in his voice he's worried.

"Sure," you nod, you're definitely not saying no to a sweet treat right now.

[orellazalonia]

Always There, Never Seen

Summary: You're the quiet presence who keeps everything running, always helping but never truly seen or included. You sit on the edges of conversations, offer silent support, and watch others be chosen and loved while you remain in the background. Despite being essential, you're basically invisible and it hurts more than anyone realizes.

Word Count: 1.9k+

A/N: According to the poll, y’all really like angst (and hurt/comfort). So I deliver to you, angst. Also, does it count as Bucky x reader if they’re not pining for each other? Hmmm… Also Disclaimer: Not much dialogue, more descriptive writing than anything. Happy reading!

Main Masterlist | The One You Don’t See Masterlist

You weren’t anyone special. Not in the way the world was used to noticing. You didn’t carry a weapon with confidence, didn’t have a degree that earned you any kind of awe, and you certainly didn’t have a face or charm that pulled people in.

You worked in admin at the Tower. Basically paperwork, scheduling, and making sure the chaos of superhero life ran just a bit smoother. You were the one who emailed team briefings, filed mission reports, and organized therapy appointments like they were just blocks on a calendar, not battles for someone's mind.

And Bucky Barnes… well, Bucky was the kind of person people did notice.

You’d liked him for a while. Quietly. Patiently. In the way someone watches a storm from behind a window. Close enough to feel the pull of it, but far enough not to be noticed.

You liked the way his voice got low when he was trying not to wake anyone in the early mornings. The way he peeled oranges with military precision and always left one for someone else. The way he laughed when Sam or Steve dragged him into something dumb, like water balloon fights or bad TV marathons. You liked him. Not the myth, not the metal arm, not the past filled with ghosts. Just Bucky.

But you were no Natasha. No Sharon. No enhanced warrior woman who could flip a man twice her size or disarm a room with a wink. You weren’t brilliant like Shuri or effortlessly magnetic like Darcy. You were just… the person who knew which printer was working and which one wasn’t. You were the one who remembered who liked what in their coffee. You were the background hum, not the spotlight.

And Bucky liked someone else.

You didn’t blame him. She was kind. Bright. The kind of person who glowed when she smiled. She moved like she’d always belonged on a battlefield, and yet, she somehow made everyone around her feel safe. She was witty, beautiful, strong, and all the things people fell in love with.

You tried not to let it show. You weren’t close enough to him for it to be a betrayal but you were far enough that even your absence would go unnoticed. You smiled when you passed him in the halls, nodded when he grunted a hello, even handed him reports when they were meant for Steve, just for a brief second of acknowledgment. He always said thank you. Always polite. Always… kind.

But never more.

Sometimes you imagined saying something. A small, “Hey, do you wanna grab a coffee sometime?” Nothing big, nothing cinematic. But your voice always caught in your throat before the words could make it to daylight. Because what would be the point? What could you possibly offer him that he didn’t already have?

So you kept your head down. You typed, sorted files, watched him laugh in the kitchen over takeout containers with her. And you reminded yourself that this was enough. And maybe, maybe one day it wouldn’t ache so much. Maybe one day, you’d stop comparing yourself to all the people who stood in the sun while you stayed in the shade. Maybe.

But not today. Today, you’d file mission debriefs, pretend not to glance at him too long, and keep being the kind of person who’s easy to forget. The kind of person no one falls for.

However, even with that reminder in your head, it didn’t make it any more easier to live by. Because you didn’t need super-hearing to know when a room grew quieter once you entered.

It wasn’t tension. No one disliked you. It was more like… when you walked into a space, conversation naturally shifted. Not because anyone was guarding secrets, just because you weren’t the kind of person people thought to include.

You were background.

You were the click of the elevator. The shuffle of papers being filed. The voice that said, “He’s in briefing room three” without ever being asked your name in return.

You sat in meetings and never got asked for your opinion. You brought backup cables, extra notepads, bandages for knuckles bruised in training and when someone needed something, you always had it. You noticed when Natasha’s shoulder was bothering her and quietly adjusted the gym reservation to avoid that day’s sparring. You reminded Steve about appointments he forgot. You updated Sam’s reports so they’d match his fieldwork without making him look careless.

No one noticed.

You weren’t angry about it. Not really. You weren’t owed gratitude. That’s not why you did it. You just… wanted to be part of something. And if you couldn’t be the center of it, you thought maybe you could be its foundation.

But even foundations crack under enough silence.

When they gathered in the common room, you stayed near the doorway, not because you preferred it but because there was never really a space for you on the couch. Not in the way people sat. Not in the way conversations flowed. Sometimes someone would offer a smile in your direction, a wave, a half-hearted “Hey, you’re still here.” But the spotlight never lingered.

Even the interns forgot you were in the room. More than once, you’d heard them gossiping about the others. About Steve’s diet, or Wanda’s mood, or what Bucky might be like behind closed doors. You were there the whole time, filing reports just a few feet away. Not one of them noticed.

Once, someone forgot to list you on a team-wide email thread. You only found out when the others started referencing a meeting you hadn’t heard of. When you brought it up, the sender laughed nervously with a light “Oh, I thought you weren’t on the main team.” You weren’t sure what hurt more: the comment or the fact that no one corrected them.

You ate lunch at your desk. You kept your voice quiet in shared spaces. You never spoke unless there was something directly requiring your words. People liked you best that way.

And Bucky… Bucky was no different.

He was polite, sure. Nodded if you passed him in the hall. Sometimes gave you a distracted “Thanks” if you handed him a revised schedule or a mission detail packet. But it was never more than that. He had others to talk to. Ones who smiled brighter, laughed louder, leaned easily into his space like they belonged there.

But God, some days you just wanted someone to ask you how you were doing. Someone to say your name like they meant it.

You knew what you were. You were safe. Predictable. The person who remembered extra passwords and booked flights without needing thanks. You weren’t charming or brilliant or needed the way others were.

And maybe that was why, even when you were in the same room, you felt so crushingly alone. You were there. You always were. But no one seemed to see it. And worst of all, you weren’t sure anyone ever would. Because you’d grown used to being the person who knew the team without really being part of it.

You knew Bucky’s schedule. When he trained, when he left early to avoid team briefings, which mornings he preferred to drink his coffee in silence. You knew the brand of painkillers Bruce trusted, the way Wanda liked her tea, how Tony hated the buzzing lights in the lower hallway. You knew all these things without anyone ever having told you. Because you watched. You listened.

That was your talent. Not fighting. Not hacking into alien tech or performing heart surgery with a spoon. You were just good at being there. Good at remembering. Good at caring in the background.

Of course, the person you liked had never really noticed. It wasn’t in a cruel way. Not in an “I think I’m better than you” way. Just in the way someone doesn’t notice the soft hum of a computer fan or the way a hallway light always flickers. You were part of the environment. Static. Expected. Invisible.

Because you knew Bucky had eyes only for her.

Honestly, you didn’t know her well. She was new-ish. Sharp and warm, always dressed like she’d stepped out of some other, better life. She smiled with her whole face. She wasn’t arrogant, but she walked like someone who knew she mattered. It was easy to like her, even if it hurt.

She made him softer. You saw it in the way his shoulders relaxed when she walked in the room, in the way his sarcasm eased into gentleness when she was around. He even smiled more, really smiled.

Sometimes you caught yourself watching them. Bucky, leaning on a countertop, looking at her like she was something rare. Her tossing her head back as she laughed at something he said. It was a kind of closeness you knew you’d never be part of. Not just with him, but with anyone. You weren’t made of magnetism or spark.

You were the pause between other people’s sentences.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the hallway outside the training room, flipping through a stack of revised schedules. You were trying to figure out if you could shift Rhodey’s physical therapy without messing up the team’s briefing timeline, and not watching where you were going when you turned a corner right into the one Bucky chose.

“Oh!” She said, catching your arm. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

You stepped back quickly. “No, my fault.”

She smiled kindly, open, not patronizing. “You’re the one who keeps everything running, right? You’re the one who fixed the mess with my mission debrief last week.”

You blinked. “That was… yeah. That was me.”

“Thank you,” She said genuinely. “Seriously. No one tells you that enough, but I noticed. You’re really good at what you do.”

It stung, how warm those words felt. Like you hadn’t realized how cold you’d been until someone brought a match close.

You gave a small smile. “Thanks.”

She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “You work here all the time. Do you ever get a break?”

You laughed once under your breath. “Not really. I think that’s kind of the point of me.”

She tilted her head. “You don’t talk much.”

You shrugged. “Not a lot of people want to hear it.”

She watched you for a beat too long, like she wanted to ask something else. But then Bucky’s voice called from down the hall, her name, not yours. Her face lit up.

“That’s me. Thanks again,” She said, and jogged off without waiting for a response.

You stood there a little too long after she left, the fluorescent light buzzing faintly above you. You imagined what it might be like to have someone call your name like that. To be the reason someone’s expression softened. You wondered what it would feel like to matter that easily.

Bucky passed by you without a glance as he walked with her. You didn't expect otherwise.

You held your papers a little tighter and turned back the way you came.

Some people were made to shine. You’d never been one of them. You weren’t bitter. You weren’t even that jealous, really. You just knew your place. You were the one who knew how to quiet a printer jam in seconds. Who carried extra pens. Who remembered birthdays but never had her own celebrated.

Bucky Barnes didn’t know your favorite coffee order. Didn’t know you stayed late so others could leave early. Didn’t know how often you looked at the closed doors of conversations you’d never be invited into.

But you were okay. You had your quiet. You had your rhythm. You had the small comfort of being needed, even if not wanted. And that would be enough. Eventually.

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x gn reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.39k | part 2

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: not communicating and not talking about your feelings (not miscommunication since you don't even communicate)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There's too many beds.

The one night where you guys don't manage to make it to a motel, there's too many damn beds.

The camper van can fit pretty much all of you at once, not that the seven of you will do that anyway. Dani and Dexter have claim on it, as the drivers, and will probably accept two more comfortably.

In Lilly's van there's the backseat and the floor, but if we're counting, for how many beds there are by technicality, the two front seats as well.

You always have tents and sleeping bags around too, just in case you guys can't drive everyone from any recently unfortunate communities to the nearest hotel (although you'd certainly try). To give a rough estimate, about a dozen tents?

Then there's Tyler's truck, the two front seats and the back seat, and the truck bed. It's a bit short, but it can fit plenty people curled up.

So what to choose?

You should probably stay in a car. Much more heat that way, but who's gonna take you in? The designated drivers obviously prefer their own cars, so... Dexter's campervan is pretty spacious? Then again, so's Lilly's, and to be honest she's more of a vibe than the other two, but also why would you need vibes if you're just sleeping?

Maybe you should start a fire, huddle around that? No, that's a hazard, nevermind the fact you only know how to start a fire in theory.

Let's stick to a car, then. Lilly or Dex & Dan for space... Lilly, sure, why not?

As you start heading over to Lilly's van, you hear a sharp whistle. You don't have time to wonder who it's from, as Tyler spins you around.

"You're coming with me." He proclaims, taking you by the shoulders, and you can only laugh.

"Why me?"

Tyler grins, walking you unceremoniously towards his truck bed. "Because you're you, dove." That alone sounds rather intimate, so he fixes his mistake quickly. You're just friends, after all. "And Boone kicks people in his sleep, Lilly's hair gets everywhere, Dani steals the blankets, Dexter snores, and Ben...it's pitiful how he squeezes himself into the corner whenever he's sleeping next to someone, so we always give him his own space."

Right, all good points you'd forgotten.

"So why exactly am I better?" You tease, stopping in your tracks so Tyler bumps into your back and stay close.

"You're warm." And at first it seems like that's the only thing he'll say, your only benefit, as he pauses; but then the rest comes spilling out like a toad strangler. "You're also soft, you don't steal the blanket, you don't complain when I suddenly start talking and you don't snore."

Tyler doesn't mention that the two of you cuddle when you bunk together, and that you bunk together often. He doesn't mention how tonight he'll let you cuddle up on his chest, or perhaps how he'll press his nose against yours and let you play with his hair, because simply mentioning it will mean you'll have to talk about it.

You don't want to talk about, you think; and neither does he. You don't want to talk about how there's something different with the way he slings his arm around your shoulder, or the way you knock your head against his, or how he always gives out your share of whatever (pizza, cookies, etc.) before anyone else, or how you always offer your help to him no matter what.

They're always easy things to ignore, his skinship is not conditional and neither is your kindness, but there's something about the way you look into his eyes when you say thank you, and something about the way his touch lingers.

You don't want to put your finger on it, at least not this season. You'll say it again the next season, and the next, but you ignore that.

"So then I'm your favorite person?" You turn around and bonk your fist against his chest.

He whistles again, drawn-out like he does in awkward moments, but you know it's only playful. "Don't push your luck, dove. You're like... top 5!"

"Top 5? Aww," You feign offense, plopping your hand over your own chest now, "I didn't make it to top 3?"

He splays out his hand and begins to count on his fingers. "There's my mom, then my dad, then the family dog, Liam from the rodeo, and then you."

"The family dog?" Your eyebrows furrow, and the acting seems a bit too real until the look on your face gives away to a memory of his dog giving you kisses. "Oh, yeah, okay. I get it."

"See? You get it." Tyler chuckles, spins you back around and keeps on walking.

The spot you guys picked today is drier than the last, which is something you're thankful for. It's quite far from any town, but the streetlights that adorn the far off road make you feel a bit safer that civilization is just around the corner. There's a light breeze, not too cold and not too fast, and the stars! Oh, the stars.

They're damn nice out here cause they're actually visible tonight, a little less light pollution, you think. It's certainly a lot brighter than, say, NYC or Washington.

"Ain't they pretty today?" Tyler comments, his hands on your shoulders squeezing.

"Yeah. Sparkly too. You know any constellations?"

"No," He hums, his voice holding a bit of lament. "I tried, once. I tried taking a class in college. Astrology."

"How'd that go?" You ask offhandedly, hopping onto the bed of the truck.

"Ended up being too stressed with my main curriculum and dropped the class before it got too far." He fixes a tarp over the top of the truck bed, over the exoskeleton, so not much light will shine over your eyes when you try to sleep.

"The smart Tyler Owens got too stressed?" You ask as you help him up.

"Being smart doesn't mean I have good time management." Tyler says as he sits next to you, and you shrug. Suppose he's right.

"Still pretty though." You hum, leaning your head against his shoulder as you look up.

"Yeah." He agrees. His arm comes to wrap around you naturally, running up and down your side. "Have you ever tried to come up with constellations with... I don't know, whoever you were looking at the sky with?"

"You know what? I don't think so." You raise a finger, tracing a path in the stars for a moment, trying to find something interesting.

He finds one before you, pointing at a group of stars in a weird glob shape. "There, a cloud!"

That alone gets you to let out an ugly, surprised laugh; despite how ugly you might've thought it to be, he thinks it's cute. "You trynna cloudgaze with stars, cowboy?"

"Shut up." He laughs, knocking his head against yours. "You try, genius."

After a couple seconds, you point out a distinct...cone shape in the sky. "Unicorn horn."

"Unicorn horn?"

"What am I supposed to say, cone?"

"You could've said ice cream cone, a little more age appropriate, you know?" He holds out his hand, holding out a small gap between his index and thumb fingers to accentuate little.

"Yeah, well it has no ice cream, dumbass."

"Woah," Tyler withdraws, raising his hands in surrender. "no need to get so defensive, dove."

You slap his hands only to draw them back around you. He has no complaints about that. "Clearly we both suck at this. Let's just admire the stars normally."

He huffs out a laugh but turns his gaze back to the night sky without complaint. It's rather peaceful, this moment, and so nice. Maybe it's not rare that you get comfortably quiet moments with him, nor is it ever rare for Tyler to hold you close like this, but it doesn't make it any less endearing.

"Look!" Tyler breaks the silence suddenly, finger tracing a path in the stars. "A heart."

"You're kidding." You huff out. He's just playing with you, he has to be, especially after your miserable attempts at finding shapes in the sky.

Despite yourself, your eyes will the stars above you into the shape of a heart. Goddamnit, you think, because it's definitely a sign.

"I'm going to sleep." You tear yourself away from his grip and he laughs and tries to steal you back to him, but you fight briefly and end up winning. It's a nice victory, especially because you won over him, but it's not on par with actually finding something in the sky (and you're avoiding the sign).

Tyler chases after you, flopping down beside you. The tarp above casts darkness over the back of the truck bed, but a soft glow still shines through.

You sigh and tuck a hair of Tyler's behind his ear, to which he only laughs. "Jealous, much?"

"Oh, totally." You'd roll your eyes, but they're stuck on his.

"I won." He's triumphant, but you can only focus on how pretty his smile looks.

"You did." You reply, not fighting him on it, and slowly his amusement fades away with the deflation of his body.

"You're not making this fun." Tyler steals your hand, presses the back of it to his lips and notably does not pucker up and kiss. It might be payback, or it might be avoiding the obvious intimacy that kissing you is.

"It wasn't a competition, anyway." You remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

His attitude eventually exudes out of him with a sigh, and he lets go of your hand to push closer. His head rests below your chin, his nose against your neck, and it's not new, but it's not old either.

"I'm sick n' tired of you." He huffs against your neck as you take the opportunity to tuck the both of you in.

You hold back a laugh. "Oh, yeah? Tell me why."

His voice is muffled against your neck, and maybe the vibrations tickle, but you don't dare move away. "I won! We should be celebrating that."

"Celebrate it in your dreams." Despite it being practically the same thing as in your dreams, it actually sounds quite genuine.

"Don't be like that," Tyler whines. "let me stay up for a little while."

You put your hand in his hair, then, twirling strands around your fingers and scratching his scalp, and Tyler hates you and also loves you, because it feels so good that it pulls a groan out of him, but it's lulling him to sleep.

"You're cheating." He whines again. He's being rather childish, huh?

"It's way past your bedtime." You say in a sing-songy way. Curiosity takes over, and you pull his head away from you gently to look into his eyes.

They open once you pull him off you, just barely. Half-lidded, not by lust, but by sleep. "I just wanna hold you for a little while longer." He says, and you don't know how he does it, but his eyes have turned pleading.

"That's on you to try, cowboy." You huddle close again, allowing him to take up the same position as before.

Despite himself, Tyler sighs contently, wrapping his arms around your midriff. One of your hands is on his back, rubbing slow circles, and the other is back on his hair.

He's definitely not going to last long now.

"When's the last time you've ridden a horse?" Tyler babbles on to try to keep awake, but you can hear the sleepy lilt in his voice. "I think my last time was when I last visited home, before the season started."

"One sheep over the fence, two sheep over the fence–"

"Shuddup."

You laugh, hands smoothing over his hair again. You're not sure how you're not very sleepy right now, tucked under the blankets, in his warm hold. Maybe it's the subconscious thought of not accidentally hitting your head on the spare wheel above you, or the faraway feel of the ridges of the truck bed below you.

Or maybe it's wanting to tease him.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

You've kissed before, little playful things: cheek kisses for the camera, neck kisses to either scare you or tickle you, forehead kisses after particularly dangerous scares, hand kisses when he's trying to act all gentlemanly, temple kisses after hugs. You've never kissed him on the lips before, and actually, neither of you have ever explicitly asked for a kiss. They've always been given without question.

"Please?" He asks again, pulling back so that his forehead is off your neck.

Oh, he only wanted a forehead kiss.

You oblige happily, press your lips against his forehead and let out and exaggerated muah!

"No, not there." He pulls away almost entirely, scooting up to be face to face.

You'd laugh, if what he was asking you for wasn't a kiss on the lips. You can't lie, you've thought about it before, when the sun shines a particular way over his face at sunset, or when he's considerably too hot to ignore.

...you're going to have to talk about this tomorrow.

Except tomorrow is not today yet, and so you cup his cheek. You debate it for a moment, a yes or a no, but there's one answer clear in your mind, a yes.

You press your lips against his, and it's more subtle than that forehead kiss, and it feels so much more tangible, in a way. His lips move against yours, a languid thing, a soft thing.

You wonder if he's going to remember this tomorrow, if being as sleepy as this is equivalent to being drunk.

"Thank you." Tyler says as you part, and he settles back where he was, head against your neck. He seems satisfied now, willing to nod off.

"Don't mention it." You say automatically.

Okay you're definitely going to have to talk about this tomorrow. For now, though, you'll just hold him. It's a strange thing to say, but he's always been rather nice to hold, a big man to fill your entire hug, even if he does make your heartbeat spike.

"Goodnight." He says.

"Sweet dreams." You reply.

There's nothing else to think about but the feeling of him in your arms and the warmth of his body as your eyes draw closed.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Silent Treatment

SUMMARY: How would they react to you giving them the Silent Treatment?

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WORD COUNT: An average of 540 words per character.

COMMENTS: I remember I had this idea after reading that Mammon had stolen and sold something from MC. MC used STAY on him, but if he did that to me I would be so upset that I would want him to suffer more than that. And I thought about the silent treatment, which would certainly be his worst nightmare. And that's why I thought of making this post. Beel's part is the shortest, but you'll see why.

I hope you enjoy 🤫

CONTEXT: This takes place in the Original timeline and not Nightbringer. So, to make matters worse for them/him, you live with them in the House of Lamentation.

Your argument was probably about Lucifer working too much and you wanting to give him a break. But his stress mixed with pride made him deny this offer in a rather mean and perhaps even disrespectful way.

Does he not want you to bother him? Very well then. What if you never bother him again?

At home, you ignore him. He tries to talk to you, but seeing how stubborn you are he ends up giving up. But this is already bothering him a lot.

At school, if necessary, you will talk to him about importante matters related to RAD as if he were any other student at school. And that's it. Anything else outside of that, you will continue to ignore it.

And that just makes everything worse for him. To have YOU of all people talk to him like he was just any student?! Not only does this hurt his pride, but this small sample of conversation with you makes him miss you more and more. But he will continue to hide it.

The last straw will be at home, when he asks you something directly and you ask one of his brothers to answer for you. Bonus if it's someone from the Anti-Lucifer League. But he must have lasted two or three days without talking to you.

He will lure you to his office, where it all started. Maybe he'll tell you to go get some important papers. You won't see him inside, but as soon as you're close to the desk you'll hear the door closing and locking. And that's when you see him calmly walking down the office stairs to meet you.

“So you decided to give me the silent treatment.” Lucifer says as he walks down the stairs.

“Didn't you want me to leave you alone?” You say, still not looking at him.

“I never said that and you are perfectly aware of that.” He finishes down the stairs and walks over to you. “I just didn't want to rest because I needed to finish that.” You don't answer him again. He already knows what you think about that. Your back is to him and he stops right behind you. “*Sigh* I'm sorry. I know you only want me well. I was just... I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I promise that next time I will consider the break.”

His voice is sad, so you know he was being sincere. But you wanted to see how much he missed you, so you remained silent and with your back turned to him. And he knows you. He knows what you want. He sighs again, more deeply, as if you're making him admit something that hurts his pride.

“Please... I miss you...” You haven't turned around yet. That wasn't enough and it bothers him. You had his desk in front of you.

He rests his hand on the table, leaning on it, and leans in to bring his face closer to yours. “Now you're just teasing me, aren't you?” He was now with that smug on his face. And he sees you give a little smile, which was the sign he understood to move forward. He holds your chin and makes you face him. “You missed me too, didn't you?” he whispers near your lips “You little tease.” And he kisses you passionately and provocatively.

Mammon probably sold something of yours. Or maybe another things of yours. Of course, you hate it when he does that. So you decide to give him the silent treatment, because you know, you know perfectly well that he won't handle it. There is nothing else you can be so sure about as this.

The moment he realizes what you are doing, he collapses. The day wasn't even over yet. In fact, you were on break from classes.

He even gets kicked out of class for constantly trying to talk to you.

You know how much he hates being ignored and being ignored by you breaks his heart into pieces.

He wants to resolve this as quickly as possible, but not in front of his brothers. He waits for you to be alone in your room.

You hear a knock on your door and you ask who it is.

“It's me, the Great Mammon. I got your stuff back. All of them. Open the door and see.”

You decide to open the door, even if it was just out of curiosity and you see Mammon holding so many things that you can barely see his face. You can see your stuff that he sold and some gifts like a teddy bear, chocolates, clothes, accessories, your favourite nerd/geek/otako related stuff, etc... You let him in and put all that on top of your bed.

“I got it all back! But, um, you don't mind if some of them are new right? I also bought you more things. These are your favourite chocolates, right? And you really wanted this plush, didn't you?”

You remain silent, looking at him with your arms crossed. This already happened once and he sold your things again.

“I won't sell your stuff again, I promise. You can hit me with your stay if I ever do it again.”

You turn your back on him and go do something, like homework for example. You went back to ignoring him because he used that excuse before.

“Please hang me upside down like Lucifer, use your stay on me at full power, but please stop ignoring me.” he sounds desperate.

You sit at the table you have in the room behind the bed. Continuing to ignore him. The next scene you see is him kneeling next to you, his head at the same level as your thighs, and looking at you like a puppy with tears starting to come out of his eyes.

“Please. I never thought this was so bad. I can't stand not having you anymore. I miss your voice. I miss your laugh. Damn it, I miss you yelling at me.” He places his chin on your thigh, looking at you. “Please, talk to me again~”

You can't take so much cuteness anymore. “Don't sell my stuff again! You hear me, you idiot?!”

His face lights up. "Am I forgiven?"

“Yes, for now you are.”

He gets up and hugs you, showering you with kisses. He won't leave you alone for the rest of the day.

Levi would hardly do anything that deserved the silent treatment. He practically idolizes you, he would never do anything to hurt you. So, something like this would definitely have been an accident.

He had arranged a date with you. But then an Ruri-chan's event came up and he ended up going to it instead of going to you. He got the dates wrong and thought the date with you was the next day.

And he only realized this mistake when the next day he sent you a message asking where you were and if you had forgotten about the date, and you replied that he was the one who forgot that the date had been the day before.

After that, you are bombarded with messages apologizing and saying how much of a complete idiot he is and doesn't deserve you. You don't respond anymore, which leaves him in a dilemma to decide whether to go to you or never see you again because you don't deserve to hear the excuses of someone as pathetic as him.

But he has to do it! He has to apologize to you in person! Even if it means you telling him to his face that you never want to see him again. He would deserve it anyway.

You hear a knock on your bedroom door. The moment you open the door, Levi kneels down and places his forehead on the floor.

“I am so sorry! I'm an embarrassment of a partner. I don't even deserve your forgiveness. But I needed to show you my regret.”

Maybe you were already feeling a little bad for him, but you were also curious to know how far your silence could take him. You turned away from the door, gesturing for him to enter your room.

He enters with mixed feelings, on the one hand he was afraid of what you could do if you wanted to punish him. On the other hand... wasn't he kinda into those things?

But no, you just sit on the bed and use your cell phone to send a message to Levi, asking why he missed the date the day before. You still needed to talk to him, but not yet with your voice that he loves so much. When he happily tells you that it was because of Ruri-chan's event, you look even more upset.

“N-N-N-N-NO WAIT! I'm so sorry! Exchanging you for anyone else, even Ruri-chan is unforgivable! I should have warned you. I wanted to tell you, but it was all so short notice.”

You still didn't say anything and even crossed your arms with a sulky expression. He kneels at your feet and gets so close to your legs that he could even hug them.

“I know that what I did was a complete betrayal, and a wretch like me doesn't deserve another opportunity, but please, just let me hear your voice one last time, even if it's to say that you hate me.”

And you finally break. You know he didn't do it out of spite and you've already punished him enough. You know you're practically torturing him at this point.

Regardless of how you say or show that you forgive him, he will praise you, maybe even cry and if you let him hug you, he will cling to you desperately.

Satan was probably on a bad day. A really bad day. That kind of day where anything irritates him, even you trying to calm him down. And he ended up saying what he would regret the moment you left his side: He told you to shut up.

And that's what you did, but for longer than he was expecting. He realized you were giving him the silent treatment when he came up to you to ask if the two of you could talk alone, so he could apologize to you, and you acted like he wasn't there. He was upset at first, but soon after he realized that that was exactly what led to this situation.

He won't try to talk to you in public again. He's prideful too. He'll wait until you two get home, and you are alone in your room.

You hear a knock on your bedroom door. When you open it, you see Satan with a big bouquet of flowers in his hands. Either they're your favourite flowers, or your favourite colour or anything he knows you would like.

“Would you allow me to speak to you, please?” He wasn't angry, he was sorry and you could see it in his eyes.

You don't answer, but you let him into your room. If you pick up the flowers, he'll be a little more relieved. But if not, he'll put them on the table and get a little more worried.

“I'm so sorry. I should never talk to you like that. I regretted my words the moment you walked out the door. I realize what you are doing, you are doing what I asked you to do, and it tears me apart. I'm not mad at what you're doing to me, I deserve it and worse.” He kneels in front of you and bows his head. “But please tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me. Because no words can mend the ones I used.”

If those words weren't enough for you and you're feeling like he deserves to "suffer" a little more for the way he treated you, you send him a message (he still doesn't deserve to hear your voice) saying that if he's really sorry about that, he could be your cat butler for a day.

He lifts his head and looks at you, blushing slightly. “With a condition: It will be for your eyes and your eyes alone! No making me go to the kitchen or something while any of my brothers is there!”

And if you agree, he will do it. Any request he will fulfill. If you tell him to end his sentences with "Nya" he will do it, partially embarrassed but partially enjoying it.

And at the end of the day, when you finally let him hear your voice again saying that you forgive him, but that you hope it doesn't happen again, he smiles, kiss your hands like a gentleman and asks permission to hug and kiss you again, after so long.

There's a good chance you decided to do this because you started seeing Asmo with more and more succubuses and incubuses.

Well, if he likes being with them so much instead of you, let's see what happens if you prefer to talk to the other brothers instead of him.

He starts the day with no idea what you've decided to do, so he compliments everyone, especially you. And the moment you don't greet him back he knows something is very wrong.

He cannot, nor does he want to, hide how devastated he already is. Of all the demon brothers he is the one who loves attention the most and not getting it from YOU is the worst thing that could happen to him.

In return, you will have ALL his attention. He won't leave you for a second. He needs to know what happened, even if he has to make a dramatic spectacle at your feet.

He will speak to you in the sweetest of voices, calling you all the affectionate names he knows of, even if he has to do so in other languages. Hon, honey, love, darling, Mon cher, mon amour, mi amor, amore mio...

If you just want to talk to him at the House of Lamentation, you'll have to ask the other brothers to basically be your bodyguards. Which will only make the situation worse for Asmo. And more fun for his brothers.

When you get home you tell one of the brothers to tell Asmo that when you are available to talk to him you will send him a message.

You were alone in your room when you sent the message to Asmo saying that you could "talk" in your room. Not a second had passed when he knocked on your door, almost as if he had been waiting in the hallway that entire time.

He’ll walk in like a happy puppy whose owner has finally opened the door for him. He will try to hug you, but you can't give in. You stray, cross your arms and looks in any direction other than at him.

“Why are you being so mean to me?” he asks in that cute, sad voice. “What could someone as cute as me have done to deserve this?”

To continue guarding your voice until he deserves to hear it, you write and send him a message. In it you talk about the succubuses and incubuses with whom he took a ton of photos and posted a bunch of stories, and it started to be much more than normal.

“Aww, my little sheep is jealous, that's so cute!” You turn your back to him. “HA! NO! Wait! I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry! I thought you knew that you are the one I love the most in all three worlds. I love you almost as much as I love myself. I couldn't say no to my fans. Oh, I know! What if we spend a whole day together? What if we went on a special date? I can prepare everything! I'll reserve a table at your favorite restaurant. I can even buy you new clothes if you want.” You turned back to him, but still didn't say anything. “Pwease, talk to me again~ I'm sowwy~”

If you accept his apology and tell him so with your voice, he will hug you and kiss you al over your face. “Ahhh! I missed you so much~!”

Honestly, I can't imagine a single scenario where Beel would do something that would deserve the silent treatment. He's the type to apologize even if it's not his fault. Even if he ate something of yours, he would apologize in the next second.

So, most likely, you and Belphie were just curious to know how Beel would react. And this would probably happen after you had done this to everyone else but him and his brothers wanted to know how he would react.

At breakfast he greets everyone, but you're the only one who doesn't greet him back. And you already feel horrible because you can feel his sad gaze on you.

"(Y/N)? Is everything okay?" he asks in an already apologetic voice. You still don't answer him, and that hurts so much, poor thing.

The other brothers tell Beel to start eating otherwise everyone will be late. But he says he doesn't want to. And everyone looks at him in amazement, except you. He is looking at you and only you, no one else matters, not even the food.

“Are you angry with me? I'm sorry. I'm not sure what I did this time, but I'm sorry. Did I eat something that was yours?” You still don't respond but you're almost at your breaking point. “(Y/N)?” He says your name in the cutest regretful voice that only he could do and you break down.

You turn to him and hug him, apologizing. You explain that he didn't do anything and explain that everything is fine. If you offer him the rest of your breakfast he will be very happy.

But he will be much closer to you for the rest of the day. It hurt him a lot and he just wants to make sure that everything was really okay. He will really like it if you two cuddle a little when your back home.

What could he do to make you mad at him? *cough* Lesson 16 *cough*. Anyway. There's a good chance he's been a little more selfish lately. Always wanting your free time to be spent with him, and try to convince you to fall into the temptation of laziness and exchange your responsibilities for him.

He needed to learn a lesson. He needed to value you more and realize that you are not a guarantee. Let's see what happens if he no longer has you.

He realizes something is wrong when you don't respond to him.

He tries to convince you to talk to him by being cute. That younger brother cuteness that he always uses against his brothers.

When he realizes that this isn't going to work, he isn't exactly going to give up. He will stop trying to convince you with words, yes. But he won't leave your side. He will be almost like a ghost behind you. At least until you all get home.

You'll have to lose him or convince his brothers to help you if you don't want him to follow you to your room the moment you get to the House of Lamentation.

If you manage to do this, you will be bombarded with messages until you finally respond saying he can come talk to you in your room.

He knocks on your bedroom door like he normally does. As soon as you let him in and close the door he will get extremely close to you, but he won't hug you no matter how much he wants to. He knows that could make the situation worse.

“So, what happened?” he asks close to your ear and in his calm voice. “Why are you upset with me?”

You poke your head in a gesture.

“Do you want me to think? To guess? *Sigh* Fine...” he says pouting sadly. “Um... I know you get upset because I make you late with your work. Sorry. I promise I'll stop being so pushy about that. But, you know I want to be with you.”

That was a good start, but it still wasn't enough for you. You had your back turned to him without speaking.

“You know, it really hurts to see you mad at me like this. I miss you.” and then it hits him. “Oh... that’s it, I miss you. I don’t think anyone likes to be seen as a guarantee, right? I'm sorry, for being so selfish with you. You always try to make me happy by giving in to my whims, I should do the same for you more often... I mean, I will do the same for you more often. I promise.” You turn to him, but still don't say anything. “um... What if... tomorrow, I have to give in to whatever whims you have? But go easy on me, okay?”

You accept the deal, and tell him so. He laughs, saying that he already missed hearing your voice so much. And if you let him, he'll hug you.

“We still have a lot of time until dinner, and I miss your cuddles. You're not going to say you didn't miss me too, right? Come on, just a few minutes. I promise I'll spoil you more than you spoil me, he he.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Must Confess

Eddie x shy!bestie!fem!reader

This is a continuation of Do Me a Favor?

summary: you finally tell Eddie that you’re in love with him and he has the exact opposite reaction you’re expecting

cw: hurt/comfort

You and Eddie were snuggled up in his bed just like always, watching the tv that was across the room. Neither of you wanted to admit that almost having sex has affected your friendship, even if it had been for the better. You were practically a couple, but neither of you wanted to be the one to give your relationship that label.

You had shared multiple kisses since then, every once making you fall even more in love with him. Every time you tried to say the words, they wouldn’t come out. It was like they got caught in your throat, like bile that wouldn’t come up. Why couldn’t you say it? You had told him you loved him many times, just not in that context.

The worst he could have said was that he didn’t feel the same way, but at least he would have known. The truth would be out and the ball would be his court and that terrified you. That you would no longer have control of the situation.

But you needed to do it. You couldn’t let your friendship continue without telling him that you were in love with him. It felt like an ache in your chest and you needed to get rid of it. You couldn’t go on any longer with the feeling even though telling Eddie the truth terrified you.

You looked up at him and the words felt so heavy on your tongue. If you were going to get rid of them, you were going to have to do it soon or else you wouldn’t do it at all.

“Eddie?” You got his attention and he looked down at you with his big brown doe eyes.

“What’s up?” He asked, his voice so casual. He was so unaware of what you were about to say and your heart rate picked up, pounding in your chest. Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out. Maybe you could say something else.

“I-” you paused, the words getting caught in your throat.

“You’ve been acting weird all week, honey,” his hands moved up to your shoulders as his eyes bored into yours. “What’s going on?”

“I-I-”

“You what, hon?” Eddie was so patient as he waited for you to get the words out, hating to watch you struggle to speak. Whatever you were going to say had clearly been hard for you to say and he just wanted you to be able to get it out since it had obviously been bothering you.

Maybe you could have made a run for it. That definitely sounded a lot better than admitting you had feelings for him. You had always been a coward and apparently nothing had changed.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He was giving you an out, but you didn’t want to take it. With a little more encouragement, got could tell him. You were convinced.

“No,” you said maybe a bit too harshly. “I need to get this out.” You took a few deep breaths and Eddie was almost convinced that you were going to hyperventilate.

“Whatever it is, honey, you can tell me.” His hands traveled down to yours and he pressed a soft kiss to each one.

“I’m in love with you.” The words came out so quietly that Eddie almost hadn’t heard you. As soon as the words came out of your mouth, he let out a soft laugh. Not exactly the thing you wanted to hear when telling someone that you were in love with him.

“Honey, I know.” Eddie had known pretty well early on. You had been super obvious, after all. With the way you looked at him like he hung the moon and hung onto his every word. He knew when you had stared at his lips when you thought he wasn’t looking.

But the good news was that Eddie had loved to you. He was head over heels, in fact. So down bad for you that he didn’t know what to do with himself sometimes. He had wanted to tell you as soon as figured out they got had feelings for each other, but he felt like the ball should have been in your court. He hated waited for years, but it had been so worth it.

“You know?” He had known and hadn’t told you? That was certainly embarrassing. How long had this gone on and he didn’t tell you?

“Of course I know, baby. I mean, sorry to break it to you, but you’re pretty damn obvious.” He straddled your waist and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Wish I wasn’t,” he shrugged. “But guess what? I’m in love with you too.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“So that means I could be your boyfriend. That is, if you wanted me to.”

“Of course I want you to be my boyfriend.” You rolled your eyes. He was so ridiculous sometimes.

“Good,” he smiled. “Because I want you to be my girlfriend.” He pulled you into a sweet kiss and you both smiled into it, eventually laughing into each other’s mouths, knowing that your friends weren’t going to be surprised in the slightest at your new relationship status. It had just been a long time coming and little did the two of you know that they all had a bet going to see who would confess first.

[pharawee]

People really let Kenta down. And by "people" I don't mean Tony (he doesn't get to be people) but his supposed "family" who appealed to him over and over in season 1, promising him that he too could have what they have and that he might even be included in their little found family, if only he turned his back on Tony and helped them.*

*Yes, ultimately they promised nothing but a path to redemption but please hear me out.

And then, when he did, in a way that no one but him could have done (and in a way that benefitted them most of all), they just... forgot about him. The narrative itself forgot about him. After he killed Tony, Kenta quite literally vanishes mid-scene like a ghost who's resolved his unfinished business.

And with Babe and Jeff and Charlie** it doesn't even hurt that much because to them I guess (and perhaps rightfully so) Kenta is part of their traumatic past, and his downfall adds to their resolution (then again, they later extend that promised forgiveness posthumously to Way who was also deeply entangled in that trauma but had the good fortune of already being a part of their family).

**I'm not blaming them at all. I like them a lot and what they do and why they do it makes a lot of sense.

But with Pete it's just the past repeating itself, only this time he doesn't leave Kenta for a cause (a cause that, yes, Kenta could have followed if only he wasn't so weighed down by his own demons) but for the ideal of someone who's not even there anymore (and who for all intents and purposes never existed at all except as a hopeful future in Pete's mind). In his grief for Way, Pete forgets about Kenta too. And I don't blame him. Obviously he's also held back by the ghost of maybes (as proven by the fact that he's, uh, not doing well at the start of season 2).

It's Kenta who remembers and seeks out Pete, and I believe him when he says that it's out of obligation. Because while no one else truly sees Kenta as part of the family, I believe that he himself now does. They planted that seed in him in season 1 (and then promptly forgot to nurture it).

There's obviously still feelings involved and it's obvious that both Kenta and Pete are aware of them (although it's way past the point where Pete could reciprocate... or where Kenta would even want him to) but at this point it's all just ghosts haunting ruins - unsettling and broken and there's nothing to be done about it. They're both stuck here.

So, as a PeteKenta truther for life, I'm glad that it's going to be Kim.

He, too, is a bit of an outsider (but for entirely different reasons), and that's exactly what Kenta needs right now. Kim isn't haunted by the ghosts of the past. He has no reason to do anything out of shared and ultimately fruitless obligation. And because he's so uncompromising in his ideals, it's going to mean something when he eventually chooses Kenta - because no one's ever done that for him before. Pete certainly never has.

That being said, I'm not even really all that disappointed that PeteKenta isn't endgame. With the acting pair industry being what it is there was never a chance of that happening anyway. Plus, I probably wouldn't be so drawn to PeteKenta in the first place if they weren't doomed by the narrative. Sometimes you just need a good ghost story, and there's value in the sad endings as well.

[differenteagletragedy]

Idk if you’re looking for any ideas and if you’re not than just disregard this lol, anyway I absolutely love your writing, I was thinking the song “it will come back” by Hozier is so soap coded, idk if you heard it but if you haven’t you should listen to it, makes me think of soap everytime, anyway you could totally do something with him and this song and I’d eat it right the fuck up 🤤

Thank you!! I am always looking for ideas, and I love getting them from songs — I haven’t heard this one, but I hope you like it!

Johnny is the life of the party. When he's on leave, when he's allowed to be relaxed, he does just that. He's never met a stranger ... but he's never had someone who really knows him, either.

The people at work know him as one thing, his family knows him as another. The girls he meets sometimes down at the pub, they know him as something else entirely. Because he can be an attractive, charming man, and he can be a good soldier, a doting son, a jerk of a little brother.

But he can't be all of it at once. And he certainly can't show anyone what lies beneath.

You, with your little claws, you scratch at it. You dig into him, pulling back the skin and muscle, rooting around in your attempts to get at his deepest self laid bare.

"Not such a good idea, hen," he tells you one night when, after he pulls out of you, you pull him in to hold him close.

It's your fifth or sixth time hooking up, a casual thing -- at least, that's what he tells himself. And each time, you take a little more of him when it's over.

"Why's that?" you ask softly, like you don't know exactly what your doing. You press his head against your chest, cradling it there, and stroke his back with delicate touches that he could so easily become addicted to if he wasn't terrified of needing something like this.

"Lots of reasons," he answers. "I snore like a bear, for one."

"And for two?"

He smiles, tilting his head to rest his chin between your breasts, looking up at you, and says, "I steal the covers."

You smile back, considering. Then you sink your teeth in.

"Why don't you ever want to stay the night? Truly."

"No one ever taught you not to feed stray cats?"

It's another deflection, one you don't even respond to -- you just keep moving your hands, soothing his already sated body until he sighs and lays his head back down on you. Your heart beats steady against his ear, and he digs his fingers into your side where he holds you.

"Why would you want me to?" he asks.

"Because I like you," you tell him, not missing a beat. "I like spending time with you. You're funny and cute and you seem a little sad, but like you don't want to show it, and I've kind of started realizing that I don't care for that."

If there's a way to answer that, Johnny has no idea what it is.

He's not even sure himself what he's sad about, or why he can't just talk to you about it all. He always puts these arbitrary little qualifiers on the time you spend together and what you are to each other. "Just having fun, lass." "Let's not get too attached, shall we?"

Maybe it has something to do with being the youngest of four -- maybe it taught him how to need less. Or perhaps it has to do with being a third-generation soldier. Maybe self-reliance has been bred into him.

Or maybe it's all bullshit. Maybe he knows exactly how much he craves this -- not just your body, but these softer moments when you hold him, when you ask him questions and then wait to hear him answer -- and he simply can't stomach it. Can't bear the thought of having it for real, all the time, only for it to be ripped away, one way or another.

Because whether it's a toy snatched away by his sisters' hands, a uniformed stranger sitting him down with a somber "son, we've got some bad news about your father," or some girl who he could see himself falling in love with telling him she just can’t handle the stress of being with someone like him, things always get ripped away from him.

He’d like it, he thinks, if he could talk about all this with you. You’re so smart and insightful, and the way you look at him sometimes makes him think you really see him. He wonders, fleetingly, if you could be one thing that he got to keep.

But he can’t talk about it, not just yet.

Maybe next time.

[ronearoundblindly]

okey dokey, I've had *a day* and will use this glorious...🥴 idek which body part to reference 😮‍💨...and merge it with your previous ask about cooking or baking for Steve and giving him a nice, comforting, home cooked meal. And his response to that act of service and caring. Because this is me, I will obviously be starting with ::gasp:: an argument. Don't you love how predictable I am?!?!

To Tire Is Human

No warnings, uhhh, canon language (sh*t)? Written in drafts so no exact word count. It's not long (2k maybe, very much unedited)!

"The hustle? What does that even mean?" Steve gripes as he finishes up various chores around the property.

"It means I do the work."

Your boyfriend rips apart the wood log he was about to start chopping. "Do the work? Do the work? For nine hours? After leaving home early enough to be at work for an hour before the actual work starts? Then staying at least a half hour to clean?"

"Unless I also have to restock," you add quickly just to really turn the knife.

"You have got to be shitting me," he nearly snarls, eyes down toward the pile.

You don't blame him for not understanding. He's from an era where people worked to live, the point was the living. This...is not longer that era, and you are not of that generation.

Of course, it frustrates him, too, because your work makes living almost impossible. With all that he just mentioned, the commute, and attempting to offer yourself the basic self-care of eating and washing, you don't have the energy to do chores, and you've certainly struggled to find energy enough to show Steve love.

"That's the gig nowadays. That's how us super-average humans do it."

The thing is that you are also so tired of having this conversation. You are tired of the guilt for not magically considering yourself the center of your universe because, despite jokes about every kid receiving participation trophies, it is deeply engrained in you that you are replaceable.

If you don't perform above and beyond, fired. If you ask for too much and offer too little, gone. If you don't constantly learn how to outpace others, useless. It never ends.

And, finally, Steve Rogers might not get this but you age. You aren't powerful to begin with, but day after day, you get weaker and older, while someone else on Earth gets smarter and stronger.

You don't want to hear the spiel. You can see from his pinched face that Steve wants to give the spiel.

You sigh in exhaustion and prepare to hear the whole Cap speech before you two go pick up dinner in town.

One day later that week, your work schedule falls apart and lands you back at home hours before Steve is due to return. Antsy to accomplish something--and looking for a snack,--you notice the perfect combination of ingredients, something saucy and salty, hearty, just like Steve melts for, and a fruity baked good.

It's a lot of steps, there's a lot of mess to clean up as you go, and then there's still a lot left behind. You're hastily rushing around to set the oven timer and yank a skillet off the burner. Perhaps the whole endeavor has gotten you in over your head.

Steve appears out of nowhere.

Well. Not nowhere, but all the chaos in the kitchen is making enough noise, you didn't hear the door.

"I have everything under control," you automatically say.

His expression morphs from one of surprise and concern to utterly overwhelmed. His eyes look glassy as he approaches and scoops you into a quick hug, hands tucking themselves beneath the hem of your shirt so he can feel your skin as he breathes you in.

He quickly releases you at the sounds of oil popping and sniffs, reverting to Cap mode.

"What do you need? What can I do?"

All you can think is that the table hasn't been set.

Steve eats his whole meal--entree and dessert--with his non-dominant hand just so he can hold yours.

He had one of your days.

He spent the drive home listing all the things he needed to do in his head, more energy for each tick, more time for sitting still, more of him to give...

...and then he got to enjoy a lovely dinner with you.

You spent your energy on him, on you both. You spent energy specifically to spend time with him, and Steve could cry but he won't. He keeps smiling, making happy, pleased noises with each delicious bite.

An hour ago, he wasn't sure he could feed himself or wash up. He's simply too tired.

You start playing with his hand, drawing patterns in his palm, lightly dragging your nails on the sensitive inside of his wrist. It makes him shiver.

There were at least four things he was supposed to do outside before it got too dark, a load of towels and sheets needs done, a basket of clothes waits to be folded and put away. He does not want to do any of it.

His fingers close around yours.

"Thank you," he interjects softly, "I was so tired."

You lean forward and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, whispering in his ear, "you wanna leave the dishes to soak and watch a movie instead?"

Steve chuckles, turns his head to quickly kiss your lips, and nuzzles his nose to yours.

"Oh, you're a naughty minx, aren't you?"

Playfully racing up the stairs, ignoring the plates and glasses still on the table, you call back to him.

"Show some hustle, big guy! We got a whole lot of nothing to do."

He twitches, just for an instant, before finally deciding that grabbing the spare pillows from the guest room will add more to the movie experience than doing the dishes.

You're both going to do the work tonight: the work of taking care of each other, enjoying each other, and being human together.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[anyxis]

I know Kalim is a goofy character in nature, but hear me out. He is the heir of the most powerful family in Silk City, one of the most powerful in the Scalding Sands and I think maybe of the whole world..? I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into that last one, but from the way the other guys talk about him it’s really like he is something else, you know?

Anyway, being an heir, like Leona said in book 6, he is learning to manage his influence. But, what if it was a game of some sort. I’m not going at it like « oh no! He is more powerful and smart than Jamil! He was just playing dumb all along! What ever will we do😩😩 » no. Not at all. The angle I’m going at is that he fakes being this naive, easy going type of guy.

I mean, people have been trying to either kidnap him or kill him since he was a kid. He doesn’t have any real friends, because everyone is either looking down on him for getting everything too easily or they want to take advantage of that fact. The only person he really considered a true friend ended up trying to kill him too.

So what does he do? Cry about it and give up on life or fake it till he makes it? He just fakes being happy-go-lucky until he tricks himself into believing he truly is and that everything happening really isn’t that bad. But behind the smile and the laugh and the friendliness, there is still the heir to the Al Asim family.

So what if at some point, during a party hosted by his family, someone says or does something that’s just… too far? His limit was reached and his smile falls from his face and he goes full on heir mode. The aura that starts coming from him is intimidating and his tone is calculated. He is the heir of the Al Asim family and apparently you needed a reminder of that fact. He starts talking about facts, laws and contracts. Starts talking about how such things won’t be tolerated, especially in his home. Starts talking about punishment and the sorts for those who will dare cross them. And so on, and so forth.

And then, he sees a friend. Maybe a guy he had invited from NRC, maybe Leona who acts as a representative for his royal family. And he gets back into his goofy self, all like « oh my god guys! You’re here! Are you enjoying yourselves right now? Is there anything you want? Anything I can get you? »

And everyone just… stares… absolutely terrified to make a wrong move or say the wrong thing. They had never seen Kalim that way and they certainly didn’t want to get on their futur colleagues bad side.

Anyway, food for thought?

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: Smn requested a pt2 of the U-20 team meeting crossdresser!Yn. So here it is!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. In the story the boys will be using he/him when addressing Yn. Requests for this series are open.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Hmmm?" Sendou squinted his eyes as he observed the Blue Lock team.... well, the starters more than anybody else. They were all somewhat interesting, but also boring to some regards, yet he couldn't stop looking at them. Or, better yet, a certain person in the team. The (h/c) haired striker of the team certainly stood out, as he looked way more... softer(?) than the rest of his team. Even his movements weren't like those from the other guys.

"Hey, Sendou. Stop staring into space and listen to what Aiku is saying." Hayate said lazily as Teru and Teppei nodded their heads.

"Yeah, we need to win this game."

"Sae is already being annoying with how 'lukewarm' we are." Cho rolled his eyes as Niou sent the older Itoshi and Shidou death glares.

"Sorry... it's just... that Blue Lock striker over there is very odd." Sendou said as he discreetly pointed at (Y/n), who was busy talking with Hiori and Kurona about something.

"Odd? He is just standing." Niou pointed out.

"Also, you being distracted resulted in him scoring the 2nd goal." Itsuki added in.

Sendou blushed in embarrassment and glared at his teammates.

"Shut it! And he is odd. Even the way he is standing is odd. It's as if I am seeing one of those idol girls."

"You have completely lost it." Teppei said calmly.

"Maybe we should limit your TV and internet access." Teru suggested.

"What are you all talking about now?" Oliver raised an eyebrow as he and Miroku approached them.

"Sendou think that (L/n) guy is a girl." Hayate simply stated.

"I never said he was a girl! I just said he reminds me of those idol girls!" The boy flushed a bright red.

"Oookkay..." Oliver said as he looked over at the said player.

"Regardless, let's just play now. Sae is already being an ass to me."

"Deserved." Miroku and Niou added in.

"Hey!"

As the 3 bickered, Sendou turned to look at the striker again. Sadly, this time, he wasn't as secretive, and Hiori noticed his staring, drawing (Y/n)'s attention to it. The two made brief eye contact, and Sendou swore he could feel his heart doing a flip or two as he stared into the player's eyes.

'Just what is it about you?'

Sendou thought that his encounter with the striker would end when the match ended, but no! They actually met up again at that karaoke bar, and again, Sendou had this weird feeling about the striker.

'He is just too perfect with girls... as if he knows first hand what they want to hear.' Sendou thought as he watched the boy's interaction with the two older girls. Meanwhile, Hayate, Teru, and Miroku were making fun of a pouting Oliver. Sendou watched as the striker's friends pulled him away from the girls.

"Stop being weird, Sendou." Cho warned the redhead.

"What?"

"You are staring at the dude like he killed someone." Teppei noted.

"Please, whatever sort of weird feelings you have for him, sort it out. It's getting stressful to watch." Niou added in as Sendou flushed a deep red as he tried to deny that statement. Itsuki snickered a little.

"You do have a weird fixation." Miroku said, walking over to the group.

"Bachira, please don't make a scene!" (Y/n) yelled as he pulled him away from an argument with Oliver.

"He does remind me of a idol tho... I have to give it to Sendou for noticing it first." Hayate added in.

"Please don't tell me you have been staring too." Niou groaned.

"In my defense, he is cute." Sendou grumbled at the statement Hayate made, and got even more agitated as Miroku and Teru agreed.

"So, a bowling match it is!" Oliver exclaimed, getting the attention of the rest of the team.

"What?" Niou wondered.

"We agreed to a bowling match with you guys." (Y/n) spoke up as she tried to get Bachira off of her arm.

"Losers buy the winners food." The (h/c) haired striker finished.

"Well, in our case Reo is buying the food." Chigiri and Isagi snickered.

"Aiyah... I guess. Bachira, can you let go of my arm now?"

"No." The bicolored boy said, which caused Chigiri and Isagi to grab onto Bachira to pull him off of (Y/n).

"There goes my hoodie." She sighed as the U-20 team watched in amusement... well, except for Oliver.

"And you! Blue Lock's number 12!"

"Ha?" The four looked at him in confusion, as the U-20 team sighed in defeat.

"Here we go." Cho and Teru said quietly.

"When the bowling game ends... how about you be a good brother to me and tell me your tricks on how you swooned those two girls soe easily." Oliver grinned, putting a  arm around (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"What?" The girl asked, dumbfounded by the statement.

"Why is he touching (Y/n)?"

"I don't know... doesn't he have a disease or something?"

"His breath probably smells, too." Isagi, Chigiri, and Bachira commented among themselves, trying to hold themselves back from ripping Oliver away from their striker.

"Eh... I don't know." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Oliver pulled her out of the room.

"Hey!" The three Blue Lock players protested.

"Hold it right there! Where are you going with (Y/n)?!" Otoya's voice was heard from down the hallway.

"That's not how you hold a bowling ball, Hayate-san." (Y/n) noted as she watched the white-haired boy struggle holding the ball.

"What?" The taller raised an eyebrow.

"You need to grab tightly onto it with all 3 fingers... that's way too loose." (Y/n) showed the shaky hand that was holding the ball. Although she didn't play or like this sport much, she knew some rules.

"You might injure your hand like that." She said simply finished as Hayate observed her hand for a moment and then repeated the same hold.

"Thanks."

"Welcome, let's have a fair game then." (Y/n) said as Hayate was about to say something, but the girl got pulled away by Nagi. The U-20 player watched with some new found interest the striker.

'Odd... but Sendou was right... there is something about the number 12 that isn't like the rest...' The white haired boy thought.

"You think that something is weird about him too, don't you?" Sendou suddenly spoke up from behind Hayate, who slowly nodded his head.

"There really is."

"Hey, you two! Focus! I need those tips from (Y/n)." Oliver warned the duo, who looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"I made (Y/n) promise to give me tips about girls, if we win." Oliver simply stated.

"You... are getting dating tips from your junior?" Cho asked in disbelief.

"This is gold. I wish I had my camera with me." Miroku chuckled as Niou held in a laughter. Teppei tried to calm everyone down, but he did find this whole ordeal funny.

"Shut it!" Oliver yelled with an embarrassed blush as Teru and Itsuki patted their captain's back, silently laughing as well.

[gilverrwrites]

But who’s is who’s? I kinda want to hear your thoughts about having slade as a dom 👀

-🐝

*! YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY NONSENSICAL YAPPING TRAP CARD !*

It could go either way. I was leaning toward Roman/Reader, Slade/Jason, but oh to willingly be at Deathstrokes mercy!

He’s not a mean dom, but he most certainly isn’t soft either. He’s mostly just a dirty old man really.

He’s not like Roman who wants to punish you. When Slade gives you a task, or sets out rules, he expects you to accomplish them. He holds you to a high standard. He takes no joy (well, maybe a little) in disciplining you, but he will do it if needs be.

You’ve gotta be a service sub*; gotta take pride and pleasure in performing acts of service for him. Brats (Jason) are welcome too, he will break tame you. Again, the punishment isn’t the fun, it’s the end result, the needy little sub, desperate for his dick, that’s the fun. (Unless you want to delve into some dead dove, non-con, hate sex talks, but for now were sticking with consensual dom/sub dynamics)

Free use to him, but only behind closed doors. Don’t be fooled, he will ogle you and make details, shamelessly sexual comments in public, but that’s as far as it goes, and if he’s on a job, forget about it. There's a time and a place for everything.

However, he does expect flexibility. You’re at his beck and call, and if you don’t make it to him in a timely manner he won’t be happy.

Other, but not all kinks that speak to me:

Orgasm control, cumming is a reward for a job well done, you have to earn it.

Abrasions and markings. He wants everyone to know who’s in charge.

Choke me, daddy.

He’s just generally rough. Not impact or electro rough, but spanking, slapping, biting, face fucking. The kind of rough he can inflict with his body and nothing else.

He also doesn’t mind you getting rough back, not deliberately but if you need to dig your nails in or bite down on something, you may use him.

Furthermore, size difference, he’s impossibly big and strong so it’s not hard to do; he likes having someone he can pick up and throw around like a rag-doll.

Name calling.

Human furniture; extending from service. Don’t just bring him his drink, look pretty, stay still, and hold it for him.

Mirrors, likes to make you watch while he ruins your body for anybody else, but even more he likes DIY porn. So when he’s away on business he can have you watch yourself being used over and over again, edging yourself for hours, days, weeks until he gets home.

Dare I suggest bathroom control- purely as punishment. Humiliation to remind you who calls the shots.

*Service isn’t just about sex. He also expects things like: helping him dress and undress, grooming him, bathing him, mending his wounds and armour, cleaning his weapons. - This is not a tradpartner thing, it’s about showing respect and admiration for him, or just generally helping him relax.

[theunholybastard]

Feeling a wee bit sad, in need of some Terzomega hurt/comfort to cheer me up ❤️

This was originally gonna be a drabble but I got too carried away oops. Don't know if this will cheer you up but it will certainly make you feel uhhhh something! Anyway happy pride!1!1!11!

Stay (Papa Emeritus III x Omega)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort(mainly hurt), Talk Of Depression, Anxiety, Mentions Of Alcohol Abuse, Mentions Of Death, Self Destructive Behavior, Misunderstandings, Sad Gay Love Story

Terzo woke up the same way he does every morning; alone, his arm outstretched towards the cold, empty side of his California king. It had been months since he had someone to share that space. He should be used to this by now. He wasn't meant for this lifestyle, to stay locked away in his bedroom with nothing to occupy his time. He was made to perform, to hear the cheers of thousands of devoted fans begging for the show to go on. He was made to be a star. Is this how he's meant to live out the rest of his days? In isolation, in silence? In some unfamiliar house the Ministry relocated him in, Satan only knows where?

From the moment he was dragged off that stage, every waking hour has been a lonely, miserable existence. His biggest fear of being Papa was knowing that one day, it would all end. He spent every day of his Papacy just worrying over the inevitable. Once he is stripped of his title, who will he be? Just plain Terzo? Nobody wants Terzo. They want Papa. When the thrill of bedding the most powerful and commanding presence in the Ministry wears off, nobody that once claimed to adore him would bother to spare him a passing glance. Now, everything he feared had come true, and despite knowing all along that this would happen, it felt worse than he could’ve imagined. 

Not even the Ghouls were there for him in his solitude. He thought that since he showed kindness and compassion, unlike how his idiot brothers treated the Ghouls during their reign, they might still view him as a friend in his retirement, maybe even visit every now and then. He realizes now they were never friends. They were colleagues. It was all business, nothing more. But Omega was different. He could’ve sworn he was different. They were close, genuinely, undeniably close. He was vulnerable with him, he trusted him. Do you know how hard it is to get Terzo to trust anybody? To open up? He wasn't exactly known for being emotionally available; Emeritus men rarely are. But Omega was just different. Or so he thought. All the sleepless nights they spent together crying into each other's arms, swearing that no matter what, their love and devotion to one another will never burn out. Maybe that was all business, too.

But maybe it was his own fault. The phone works both ways. He could've called. Then again, if Omega really wanted to talk, he would've called first. But maybe Omega just wanted to give him space, to let him make the first move when he's ready to do so. Terzo didn't know if he should hold on to that hope or not. Not one call, not one text, not one knock on the door for months? Terzo would've accepted a carrier pigeon as well. At this point, the thought of calling first terrified him. If Omega didn't pick up, then he'd know for sure. Then it would be real. What then? Regardless, his fate is already sealed. He is eternally alone. 

His head was pounding from the night before. He's really regretting drinking so much right about now, but what else is he supposed to do with his time? His eyelids were puffy and heavy, barely able to keep them open, and his stomach was aching something awful; God, did he even eat anything yesterday besides liquor? He doesn't want to imagine how pathetic he looks right now. He never liked seeing himself without the paint, nevermind in this state. Maybe it's a good thing Omega isn't here to see him like this, he thought to himself, chuckling bitterly. 

“Terzo…?” As of on queue, a soft, familiar voice echoes, nearly launching him off the bed. He must still be asleep, dreaming. Worse yet, he's hallucinating. His head darted towards the direction of the sound.  Lo and behold, a tall figure stood at his doorway, a figure he almost didn’t recognize. It already feels like a lifetime ago since he last saw him. But how could he ever forget? “I tried to knock but, uh… your door was unlocked. I was worried.”

An overwhelming relief was the first emotion Terzo experienced, very quickly followed by anger and bitterness. “You were worried?” He spat. “Where was your worry six months ago? When I actually needed you?” Omega's eyes looked tired too, glazed over and apologetic. 

“Terzo, please-” Despite the comforting rumble of Omegas voice being something hes longed to hear again, Terzo was having none of it. “Not even one fucking lousy call? Now you decide you give a damn? I don't want your so-called worry. I don't want your pity. Not anymore.” His throat is getting tighter, as if his body is physically rejecting the words he's saying, but he can't stop. “Get out. Let me rot in peace.”

“You don't think that I would have if I could?! I… I thought you knew.” Terzo never seen the usually stoic Omega so… exasperated. It softened him up enough to hear him out.

“Knew what?”

“They told me you were dead.” Omega swallowed. Terzo's brows furrowed in confusion as Omega pulled out a piece of crumpled-up paper from his back pocket; something from a magazine. Getting a closer look, it was him. Or something that was made to look like his head, at least. In his hand was a magazine cover, showing his father and the bastard Cardinal that somehow managed to replace him, holding what looked to be his severed head.

“...Huh.” Terzo hummed simply. It enraged him to see it, but more so confused him than anything. It looked pretty real, he’ll give them that.

“This came out yesterday. We had a whole funeral for you months ago. I saw your goddamn body being rolled around in a glass coffin for fucks sake, youre telling me none of this was real?” Omega exclaimed. Terzo runs his hands showingly across his perfectly intact neck. “Obviously!”

“And… and your brothers?”

“Secondo drunkenly butt-dialed me last week. They're fine.” Terzo would've laughed at the absurdity of the Clergys cruel manipulation if it wasn't actively tormenting his life. He can’t fucking believe they shipped him and his brothers off just to pretend they dont exist anymore. The nerve. “But if that's what you thought, how did you find out where I am?”

“Snooped through some Clergy files. I knew something wasn't right, I just didn't think… Oh, bello, forgive me…” Omega tearfully lamented, collapsing in front of Terzo, like he was begging for some sort of penance, reaching up to clutch his hands for dear life. Terzo's stomach is in knots, guilt consuming him as he realized Omega was just as pathetic and desperate during these past few months as he had been. After everything, how could he have thought any differently?

“Amore… how could you have known?” Terzo hushed, bringing his body closer to his, holding him like this was the last time. For all he knows, it could be. He's certainly not taking this gift of connection for granted anymore.

“I should have. It didn't feel right. You didn't feel gone.” Omegas voice broke, sinking into his embrace. He could stay forever like this, melting into him. It had been so long since he felt warmth. “I can't go back. Not now. Not after just getting you back. Terzo, please-”

“I wouldn't expect you to. If you tried to leave, I’d probably break your legs.” Terzo chuckled, passing it off as a joke, though it hardly was at this point. He needed him. He can't go on for the rest of eternity alone. And he'll be damned if he lets Omega suffer, too. “You're stuck with me, orsetto mio. Stay." Omega smiled.

“I wouldn't have it any other way, mia vita.”

-