#me @ me on the floor thinking about how much luc does and does not know about what happened when veth was gone

[revvethasmythh]

trick or treat! 🦇

okay I THINK I've shared this particular excerpt once before but it's both relevant and makes me laugh so *captain holt voice* you'll read it again!

“What really happened?” Luc asked, blurting the words out so quickly it took her a moment to register what he’d said.  She blinked. “What? What really happened when?” He hesitated. It was never a good sign when he hesitated. Usually he just said whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. “That time,” he said, nervously plucking at his pant leg, “when you were gone. What really happened? Dad never told me. And I…I guess I never had the nerve to ask you before. Because you were gone, Mom. For, like, a while. And I remember being with Edith? I think? Because Dad was gone, too, and-and, yeah. That sucked. But you guys have never…you’ve never told me what was actually going on. And Caleb always speaks in these long-winded Zemnian riddles. I think he does it to throw me off so I won’t ask him about it any more.” “You’ve asked Caleb about this?” Veth asked with a jolt. “Well, yeah,” Luc said, like this was an obvious conclusion. “At least he says more than Caduceus does. All Cad’s ever said was ‘It was a lot.’”

[invisible-lint]

Here For You

Lucien x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Lucien finds you Under the Mountain

Warnings: angst, smut, mentions of non/dubiously concensual sex, nothing explicit and not with Lucien

Note: This was going to be a part of Before & After and kinda took on a life of its own oops. It's that same reader though

Word Count: 1.6k

You suppose that you should be glad that you were here and not locked in the dungeon like Feyre was. If she was still alive. And part of you was, at least there was a bed and a fire. But the reason you were here outweighed the luxuries you had.

 You were being used as a plaything. You weren't sure how Amarantha decided which male spent the night with you, but it didn't really matter. Some of them were kind, spending the night sitting in the chair by the fireplace. But most of them weren't. And the ones who weren't, the ones who spent the night in your bed... You'd rather not think about them. You almost wish you had the luxury of fae wine so you didn't have to remember it. 

You pace in front of the fire, trying to keep the anxious anticipation from overcoming you. It wouldn't do you any good. The door opens, and you press your hands into your skirts to hide their shaking, looking at the floor. The male says your name and you sway on your feet, not believing it's him. Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you, or this is some sort of magic, a cruel trick. He crosses the room and pulls you into his arms, steadying you. He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your jaw, under your chin, gently tilting your head up to look at him. It's really him. Lucien. You lean into his touch, tears running down your cheeks. He brushes your tears away. 

"Lucien... Luc… How are you here? I thought... I didn't think..."

"I managed to convince the male who was supposed to be here tonight to let me take his place." You cling to him, burying your face in his chest. 

"How?"

"It doesn't matter. I had to see you." 

You nod. "Not much longer now until Feyre's first task... Any idea what it might be?" 

"No. Nobody knows."

"Can we sit?" 

"Of course." He picks you up, walking over to the chair by the fire and sitting, setting you on his lap. You lean your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He plays with your hair, and you sigh contentedly. It has been far too long since anyone has touched you with so much care and compassion. With love. 

"I need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"If Feyre..." You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "If Feyre dies... I don't know what will happen to me. Amarantha may just kill me. But if she doesn't. If she decides to keep me as a plaything for others to use… I want you to kill me.”

He whispers your name, a pained look on his face. 

“Lucien, please. I can't live the rest of my life like this. I can't. I'm not strong enough.” 

“I can't do that…”

You look up at him, eyes bright with tears. The sight breaks his heart.

“Please.” 

He relents, nodding. “I promise.” 

He prays to the Mother and whatever gods may be listening that he won't have to. But he knows one thing for certain, if he does have to kill you, he’ll follow close behind, hoping that wherever your souls end up you can be happy together. You brush your thumb across his cheek, catching a stray tear. 

“I don't think it will come to that. I think Feyre can do it. But I wanted to have a back up plan, just in case.” 

“I… Understand.” 

“Luc… look at me, please.” 

He looks down at you, and your eyes meet. You can see everything he's feeling, all the pain, the fear, but most of all, you see the love shining through all of it. 

“I love you, Lucien. With all of my heart. And I am so sorry that I have to ask so much of you.” 

“I love you too.” You lean up and kiss him. One of his hands finds its way into your hair, holding you to him. After a moment, you pull back to breathe.

“I want you.” 

“You have me. I'm right here.”

Your cheeks flush. “No. I want you.”

You see it as realization dawns in his eyes.

“That's not why I came here. I just wanted to see you. Hold you.” 

“I know. That's part of why I want you. Because you care about me and how I feel. About what I want. About my desires. If you don't want… We can just sit like this. This is more than enough. More than I ever thought I'd get to experience with you again.” 

He just stares at you a moment before standing suddenly, causing you to squeal and wrap your arms around his neck. He carries you over to the bed, gingerly setting you amongst the pillows.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, sitting next to you, brushing his hand across your ribs. 

“Yes. I want you. I choose you.” He leans down to kiss you, his hand trailing from your ribs to your waist. 

“As long as this is what you want. If you change your mind. If you want me to stop. At any point. I don't care when, promise you'll tell me?” He shifts so he's kneeling between your thighs, sliding his hands to your hips.

“I promise.” 

“Good.” He leans down to kiss you, his hands tugging your dress up so it pools at your waist. He trails his hands back down to your hips, savoring the way the soft flesh feels, before hooking his fingers into your underwear and pulling them down, tossing them aside. He trails kisses up the inside of one thigh and then the other, smiling at the soft whine that you make. He does it once more, breathing in the scent of your arousal. Finally, when you open your mouth, ready to beg for him to put his mouth where you want it, he spreads your legs, licking up your center to your clit. You let out a breathy moan, hands tangling in his long hair, as his tongue circles the bundle of nerves. He slides a finger into you, curling it up into that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. 

Before long, he's adding in another finger, his free hand reaching up to grope at your covered breasts. You let out a loud moan, tugging on his hair, so close to falling over that edge. He flicks his tongue across your clit just right and you fall over the edge, climaxing. He presses wet kisses to your thigh, fingers still going as you come down from your high, enjoying the way you pull his hair so hard it almost hurts. He pulls his fingers out, chuckling at your needy whine, sucking them into his mouth and licking them clean. He grabs your wrists, squeezing them gently to get you to release your grip on his hair so he can sit up. 

He looks into your eyes, looking for any sign that you want him to stop. You speak, as if you had read his mind. 

“Luc, I want you. I need you. Please.” You sit up, reaching for the buckle of his belt. He lets you, pulling his shirt off as you undo his trousers. He stands, pulling them down his thighs, kicking off his boots with them, and as he does you pull your dress off over your head, tossing it so it lands in a heap on the floor. 

You lay back against the pillows, spreading your legs for him, and he pauses for a moment, taking in the sight, before climbing back onto the bed and settling between your thighs. You tense briefly, but he's watching you closely enough to notice the movement. “Do we need to stop?”

“I… I don't want to.” He cups your cheek and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

“I know, Love. I know.” You take a deep breath and blow it out, frustrated at how unfair it all is. “Can we try a different way? Maybe if you sit up against the headboard?” He does as you ask, his hands finding a place on your waist as you straddle his hips. You let out a breath, visibly relaxing. 

“Better?”

“Yes.” You grind down on him, smiling at the way he moans, eyes fluttering shut. You do it again and he curses. You don't have enough patience for much more teasing though, your hand reaching between your bodies to stroke his hard cock, lining it up with your entrance. You both moan together at the way he feels stretching you. You lean your forehead against his, just enjoying the way he's filling you up. 

After a moment, you start to move, letting out a low keening moan. Lucien thrusts up into you, looking into your eyes. One of your hands tangles into the hair at the top of his neck, the other pulling one of his hands from its grip on your waist, intertwining your fingers. You both pick up the pace, moaning at the way your pussy clenches around him. 

His hand still on your waist trails down between your bodies to circle your clit. He's getting close, and he wants you to find your release at the same time he does. You kiss him, putting all of your love for him into it. He climaxes shortly after, taking you with him. You all but collapse against his chest, breathing heavy, body tired after two orgasms. 

He slowly, carefully lays down without pulling out, wanting to keep your bodies joined as closely together as possible, pulling the blankets over you. You press kisses to his neck and shoulder, smiling when he kisses the top of your head. He traces his fingers up and down your spine, the action lulling you to sleep. 

“Sleep now, Love. I'll be here to keep you safe.”

A/N: Showing my baby Lucien the love he deserves. I'll eventually post more Before & After, but I also have another thing I started writing with the intent of it being for that that has taken on a life of its own that I'll post when it's done. As per usual, requests are open! I have a couple prompt posts I reblogged and I'd love to get a couple of those!

divider is by @tsunami-of-tears

[froggibus]

Taking Care Of You While Sick - Obey Me!

Includes: Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Beel & Belphie

Genre: hurt/comfort + fluff!

Summary: you get sick, and your favorite demon knows (or tries his best) just how to take care of you

CW: sick! Reader, fever, lots of medicine, satan being Satan, wholesome Beel

wow i wonder what could have possibly inspired me to write this one….weird. anyway I am still sick but thats okay cause i got to sleep 20 hours one day and watch all the marvel movies so pog. anyway enjoy <3

————

Lucifer 

doesn’t know much about human illnesses but knows when you’re getting sick 

 makes you get lots of bed rest

 will have medicine and fresh water for you around the clock

 offers to do his paperwork in your room to keep you company 

 you don’t really notice either way cause you’re asleep mostly 

 he does anyway tho cause he’s worried and wants to keep an eye on you

 corrects your temperature in your sleep too

 shivering? adds another blanket

 sweating? pulls the covers back and puts a cold cloth on your forehead

 “luc did you…swaddle me?”

 “you were cold”

 even after you get better he’s extra adamant about you taking vitamins 

Mammon 

 thinks you’re dying at first

 notices you’re much warmer than usual and actually thinks you’re going to light on fire

 panics and thinks lucifer is gonna kill him 

 you have to explain that you’re not actually dying but that you’re sick 

 probably has no idea what to do to help you

 just does what he likes when he’s sick

 brings you lots of fluids (especially juice)

 and soup

 expect lots of soup/ramen

 is with you 24/7

 “you’re MY responsibility so I gotta keep an eye on you”

 probably forgets to take care of himself in the process 

 so you make him drink your water/eat your soup/sleep 

 definitely sleeps with you with the excuse of ‘watching out for you’

Levi

 its just like in that anime he watched 

 except he really hopes you’re not dying like the MC in the anime was

 just does exactly what they did in the anime (but with a lot more blushing and stuttering)

 probably thinks you’d rather lucifer or mammon take care of you 

 you try to comfort him but you’re so tired that it just comes out as a bunch of mumbles 

 definitely has to give himself a peptalk (or five)

 “y/n is really sick rn, this isn’t about you, ok?”

 will feed you medicine if you’re not strong enough to do it yourself 

 you’re surprised at how well he’s handling things

 “ok y/n im gonna head back to my room but if you need anything tonight just text me ok?”

 “levi can you stay with me”

 thinks he’s misheard you at first

 malfunctions for a really long time 

 you’re already falling asleep by the time he decides to climb in bed with you

Satan

 has been waiting for this moment since you arrived 

 literally read so many books about human illness and immune systems 

 figured it was only a matter of time until you got sick

 is ready with juice and water and medicine 

 literally has everything you could possibly need 

 checks your temperature VERY delicately

 “fuck y/n you’re burning up”

 gets you a cold cloth for your forehead 

 even tho he knows everything he still is really nervous

 checks on you like every five minutes (if he even leaves your room)

 would make himself a bed on your floor so that if you need him in the night he’s there

 somehow you convince him to come lay with you 

 even tho you’re a million degrees 

 he’ll stay with you all night just to make sure you’re okay

 would definitely try and hunt down whoever infected you 

Asmo

 can tell you’re sick just by how clammy and washed out you look

 but he won’t say anything 

 probably makes you one of his ultra healthy super food smoothies

 even if it tastes gross he makes sure you drink it

 would probably spoon feed you food too

 insists you get lots of rest

 and when you can’t sleep he’s there to keep you company

 keeps up with your hygiene too

 will brush your hair/tie it up so that it doesn’t get tangled while you sleep

 gets a cloth to wipe down your face and applies lotion and chapstick 

 probably wouldn’t sleep with you cause he doesn’t want to get sick (even tho demons don’t share the same sicknesses with humans)

 but will stay in a phone call with you from his room all night and if you need anything he’s there in a heartbeat

 more medicine?

 he’s there

 but he’s so tired don’t expect him to return to his room after

Beel

 doesn’t know whats going on at first but makes an educated guess

 asks what you need instead of assuming 

 makes you lots of snacks + drinks

 i feel like he would hide your medicine in food like they do for dogs??

 idk it seems up his alley 

 also helps you with any tasks you may possibly need with

 homework? he’s on it (just don’t tell Lucifer)

 need to wash your hair but you’re too weak? all you gotta do is lean your head over the bathtub 

 he’ll take really good care of you

 would probably baby you a little tho

 like cut up your food into really small portions 

 and give you juice out of a sippy cup

 “beel where did you even find that?”

 “i-uhh—“

definitely watches movies with you until you fall asleep and stays to make sure you don’t need anything

Belphie 

probably knew you were sick before anyone else

tries to ignore it cause he totally doesn’t care

but your skin is hot!!

and you’re sweating a lot 

and your voice sounds…different?

eventually he has to give in and admit he’s worried about you

and since no one else is around he takes care of you

brings you water and medicine and offers to let you sleep in his bed

“just so I can wash your sheets! you’ll feel so much better in clean ones…”

even lets you sleep on his pillow

probably watches you sleep to make sure you’re still alive 

but can’t help and admire how peaceful you look 

pushes you to drink fluids and sleep LOTS 

and if you refuse to sleep?

well he’ll just have to make you sleep

masterlist

[centralperkchenford]

Chenford + Lucy thinks she’s lost the necklace Tim gave her and gets really upset. It ends up just being at his house and it prompts them to discuss moving in together

I combined three prompts with this one! I hope you enjoy it!

Chenford + Lucy thinks she’s lost the necklace Tim gave her and gets really upset. It ends up just being at his house and it prompts them to discuss moving in together

Chenford + Lucy and Tim talk about their future and moving in together ❤️

Chenford + Lucy and Tim haven't seen each other due to their busy schedules and then decide to move in together 💗💗

Home is wherever I'm with you

Lucy goes through her drawers frantically tossing everything out onto the floors. She brushes everything off her dresser just hoping to see the necklace. But it wasn’t there. She went through her jewelry box hoping that she had just tossed it in but it wasn’t in there either.

She always put the necklace on her dresser, and always put it back on when she got back from work. She never wanted to take it off in the first place, she would prefer to always have it on. It was the necklace that Tim had given her for Valentine’s Day, and she loved it and wore it all the time.

But now it was gone and she felt like the ground was going to swallow her up. She sighs and flops down on her bed and closes her eyes. It had to be somewhere in here. It didn’t just get up and run away. She always left it on her dresser…

“Hey Lucy?” Tamara calls from the living room. Lucy gets up and peeks her head out of her room to see her roommate on the couch. “Is Tim coming over tonight?”

Lucy lets out a breath. Tim’s metro hours had been keeping them apart lately and they hadn’t see each other much. He always tries to come over but sometimes it’s late and she knows he’s tired. And when he does slip into her bed, and pulls her tight against him it seems like he just has to get up again.

It stinks because she misses him.

“I don’t know.” She replies feeling wary. “He’s working so it just depends on how he feels.” Tamara gets up and walks over peering into her room. Her eyes widen when she sees the mess Lucy had made.

“What happened did a tornado go through here?” She asks. Lucy rolls her eyes and flops down on the bed again.

“I can’t find the necklace Tim gave me for Valentine’s Day.” She says. “I always leave it on my dresser and it’s just not there. ” Tamara looks over at her with a sympathetic expression and then steps into her room more, she digs around her dresser dumping things out and carefully going through everything.

Lucy isn’t even paying attention to what she is doing until Tamara speaks. “Did you leave it at work?”

Lucy sits up and shakes her head. “No.” She says and flops back onto the bed bouncing a little as she does.

Tamara sighs. “I’m sure it will turn up somewhere Lucy. Don’t give up yet.”

Lucy runs her hands down her face and sighs and hopes that she is right.

***

Tim sighs as he unlocks his door and throws his keys down. It’s past midnight and he didn’t go to Lucy’s because he had to be back in 4 hours. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with her in bed but he knew when he came in that late he woke her up. And most nights he would go to her apartment but there were nights like tonight where he just knew he needed to go to his house.

He makes his way to his bedroom, and stripes down before falling into bed.

He sets his alarm and closes his eyes before his phone is buzzing. He groans but reaches over to pick it up.

“Hello?” He answers. There’s silence on the line before the person speaks and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when she does.

“Hey.” Lucy says. “Are you at your house?”

“Yeah I have to go back and I didn’t want to wake you up twice.” He says.

Lucy scoffs over the phone. “You know I don’t mind that Tim. I would rather wake up and you be there than wake up and you are not there.”

“I know Luce. It was just a long day.” He says and he feels the guilt washing over him. He had barely seen Lucy the last few days and it sucked.

“I know.” She says and her voice sounds sad. He’s not sure if it’s from them not seeing each other or something else.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. Lucy doesn’t answer right away, he can hear her soft breathing over the phone.

“Luce?” He probes her gently. “Are you okay?”

“Yes-no..I-I can’t find the necklace you gave me and I always put it in one spot but it’s not there and maybe it fell off and got swept up.” She says and he can tell she’s trying not to cry. “And I miss you.”

Tim blows out a breath and he regrets not going to Lucy’s apartment tonight. He can’t fix that right now but he can fix something else. He knows exactly where he necklace is. He slides out of bed and goes to his dresser. He turns on his light, and smiles when he sees Lucy’s necklace sitting exactly where she left it.

She had come over a few nights ago and taken it off in the morning when she had to leave in a hurry. He had just noticed it the day before and meant to bring it to her but he had gotten caught up in work.

“Well good thing I know exactly where your necklace is.” He says. She makes a soft sound over the phone.

“I have it Luce.” He continues and she lets out a sigh of relief.

“I hate this.” Lucy says after a few moments of silence. “I hate not seeing each other everyday, you have stuff at my place. I have stuff at yours. There has to be an easier way to do this. I just want to come home to you everyday, I don’t even care what time of the day it is. I just want—”

“Move in with me.” Says Tim cutting her off. “Move in with me and then you can have all that Luce because I want it too.”

“Tim are you sure—” Lucy starts.

“Yes.” He says fiercely. “I want to come home to you all the time Luce and curl up in bed with you every night and not have to feel guilty about not going to your place.”

There’s silence over the phone for a few minutes before Lucy speaks again, her voice sounding lighter than before. “Okay.” She says. “I will move in with you.”

Tim smiles and he wishes he could pull her into a hug. “Good.” He says. He moves away from his dresser and climbs back into bed.

“What about Tamara?” Lucy asks. “I don’t want to just—”

“We will talk to her Luce. You know she will understand.” Tim says reassuringly. “We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I know how much Tamara means to you.”

Lucy sighs a little. “I know Tim.” She says. “I know she will understand. She will probably be relieved because she won’t have to put noise cancelling headphones on all the time.” Tim snorts and lays down on his pillow. He’s ready to have Lucy next to him every single night.

“This will be good.” Tim says. “We can make our own little home.”

“Yeah.” Lucy agrees. “But Tim. My home isn’t a place anymore.” She pauses and Tim furrows his brows wondering where she is going with this.

“No?” He asks. “Then what is it?”

“Home is where ever you are.” She replies and he smiles. He really couldn’t wait to get this next chapter of his life started.

***

Lucy moves in with Tim a week later and as Tim predicted Tamara was fine with it. She was happy that Lucy was taking a step in her relationship with Tim. And she told her it’s not like they wouldn’t see each other. They were like sisters.

Lucy was so grateful to have someone like Tamara in her life because it’s true what they say blood doesn’t always make a family.

She smiles as she watches Tim put her pillows on his sofa. “Why do you have so many pillows?” He grumbles. “It’s not like we can sleep on these.”

Lucy laughs and makes her way over to him and wraps herself around him. “They are just decorative pillows babe.” She says. “To make it seem more homey.”

“What my house isn’t homey enough?” He grumbles. Lucy laughs again and raises herself up to kiss him.

“It’s plenty homey.” She says and then she thinks about what she told him when he had asked her to move in.

Home wasn’t a place anymore. It was where ever he was. And it was true, she thinks that’s why she missed him so much when he didn’t come over. It’s because he was her home, her safe place.

“Hey.” He taps her on the shoulder pulling her out of her thoughts. She looks up at with curious eyes. “Welcome home.”

“No place I’d rather be.” She replies. A smile lights up his face and he pulls her closer.

And she was finally home. Exactly where she was suppose to be.

[xx-vergil-xx]

sanctus dentes/canem dei

okay u know what –– I just answered an anon ask that brought up the old cori fic I talked about writing months ago, so in the spirit of recollection I was excavating some drafts and I found a part I like –– all that to say, here’s the first vignette of sanctus dentes / canem dei for your consumption :) this is the prologue to the whole kit and caboodle, and it’ll probably get edited and expanded before I post it in earnest, but I really truly haven’t posted writing in so long and today I'm on a good wave of productivity and hey, seize the moment ride the urge etc etc

a TW for gore, blood, violence, and body horror (which I'll also put in the post tags)

SANCTUS DENTES / CANEM DEI (draft, WIP)

EPIGRAPH

“Epopteia, completed sight––meaning the sight that brings us beyond initiation (which only ‘understands’) to ‘contemplation,’ a ‘super-sight’ that is a ‘devouring of the eyes’ (the eye devouring its very self), a grasping and finally a touching: the very absolute of touching, touching-the-other- as being-touched, each being absorbed and devoured in the other.” –– Corpus, Jean-Luc Nancy

GENESIS I: THE PARABLE OF THE DINING ROOM FLOOR

“You don’t love me.”

The blood bubbles in tongues between the split lips. The young man has the eyes of a doe, his pupils blown wide enough they swallow the tawny ring of his shivering iris. His terror is so thick from his pores it might be swiped up with a finger, swept against the tongue, tasted in all its viscous splendor. He reeks of panting sweat, the tar and velvet of post-arousal pheromones crashing into summer-lightning adrenaline that crackles in the nose.

The Corinthian hums into the plate of the sternum. He cradles the tender cheek, licks the soft skin of the purpling undereye, where the threads of capillaries have split beneath the epidermis. The taste is not iron –– such a banal simplification, to call blood near-spilling only, reductively, “metallic”. It’s a bouquet of honeysuckle plasma, fatty satin like good gruyere, platelets of sour rhubarb pie and fresh raspberry. When he bites the thin skin, it tears easily, only so much wet tissue under perfected incisors.

“I don’t?”

"You––" The tears season the meat well –– the Corinthian appreciates the gesture. "You said––"

"Baby," the Corinthian murmurs into the open wound, "didn't your momma ever tell you not to trust a stranger?"

Languorous and immovable, the Corinthian pins the young man's wrists above his bleeding head. In the dark, all things become more and less than what they are. The thick cords of the neck pull taut, strung fierce enough that their columns emerge from the dimness as the spine of some deep-sea horror cresting the sea. He scrapes his teeth against the jaw, where the bone runs close to the surface, and prophesies the sponge of marrow under molar. The body shudders –– glorious, isn't it, how the rigid little mind might strive to save itself from that which thrills the flesh.

"Please. Please."

"Little lamb, what're you begging for?" The Corinthian lays a kiss against the mouth. From the man's overlapping palms issues the hilt of a thin blade –– the other is buried, arrow-like, between his second and third rib. The rasp of the voice is laden with lung collapse, breath that no longer fits into smothered struts. In the valley of the tendons, the heart courses, torrential.

“Mercy.  Merciful God, I can’t die like this.”

The Corinthian sinks his teeth into the muscle of the shoulder, at the point it meets the neck. A slobbery gasp surges from the open mouth –– no better music, thinks the Corinthian, as his canines meet the granite edge of the scapula. The heart is racing, ever the traitor. They are all like this. The space between suffering and ecstasy is so minute he could not slide a fingernail into it.

He severs, at last, the tendons, and a slop of meat comes free. The sheets of the hotel bed will be irrecoverable –– mark of a real good night. It's hot and fresh down his throat. He thinks about getting sashimi after he's done here. Though it'll be a long time until the meal has ended.

The man's mind is fading, even while his body yearns after the teeth that destroy it. He babbles, warbling prayers so loose-limbed and slurred they are only a horsehair bow drawn across untuned vocal folds.

"Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, hallowed be thy––"

"Shh, shh shh shh, baby." He chews and swallows, and when he kisses the hollow of the throat it's only to rip the skin loose from the clavicles, to see those nubs of bone glow pearlescent in the night. "Be not afraid."

"––thy king–– thy kingdom come–– thy––"

Once, when he was young, he had eaten only the eyes. He had popped the tart cherries of sight, reveled in the liquor of the vitreous humor, the plasticky chew of the cornea –– he'd gnaw on the lenses for hours, like wads of clear gum. But his life had been long, and his maker had sculpted him from famine, and famine knew no sating. Famine, blooming low in the gut, scaled the spine and hung from the jaw. It grew, and grew, and filled him with gaping mouths. There was no moment he did not hunger. He couldn't satisfy himself on eyes, these days.

"You fear what you don't understand," says the Corinthian. The man's arms are slack enough that when he releases them, they slump limb and immobile. He drags his hands down the flanks, sinks his fingers between two mirrored ribs, and the flesh gives so readily it seems almost eager. "I don't love you?"

With a squelch and groan, the intercostals split apart. The Corinthian curls his grip around the bone, on either side, and grins, threefold.

"––thy will be–– done–– on Earth, as it is–– in Heaven–– give–– give us––"

"Sanctum corpus," he breathes. "Baby, don't be cruel."

"––this day, our daily bread–– forgive–– forgive–– forgive––"

He snaps the ribs apart. The hull of skin and muscle is rent open, and the smell, sacramental wine, bursts forth in heavenly plenitude.

"Hoc est enim corpus meum. Eat of my flesh, and drink of my blood."

The man buckles, chokes. The whites of his eyes shine liquid, pale shells, spilled oil.

"I love you," murmurs the Corinthian. He does.

The Corinthian buries his face in the guts, and takes communion.

[chicken2potato]

4/13/23 pt 2

I’m fully convinced that I can’t be loved. That I am the problem. My own fucking mother doesn’t want anything to do with me. Why would anyone else want to? 

I remember the day when I finally realized that you were crazy. You pinned me down on the floor and the entire time were screaming into the phone of one of your friends that I needed to take my hands off of you and to stop fighting. I wasn’t doing anything. I was just trying to get out of the bathroom that you had trapped me in. Somehow I ended up on the floor with you on top of me. I remember telling you I couldn’t breathe, and you said, “You can still talk so you can breathe just fine.”

I should just use that day as a mental note, that it’s not me, it’s you. But what if it is me? My dad? Rowan? Ryan? Jacob? John? Even Luc can’t commit. What is it that I’m doing wrong? I’m trying so hard to be the person that people need. I’ll stay up and talk to you if you need. I’ll drive a fucking hour just to give someone ramen noodles because they’re sick. Then I just get replaced. I just get tossed aside as if I were nothing to begin with.

It’s like high school all over again. It’s like my childhood all over again. I’m just always getting tossed aside. He told me that he wanted to work on himself and couldn’t have a relationship... then a month and a half later he was back together with his ex? I was there for him. I held him when he came to me to talk about her. I held his hand through it all. I combed my fingers through his hair while he slept peacefully on my lap. I ignored my problems and focused on him because that was what he needed. Then I’m treated like I don’t exist. Why am I never good enough? What is it that I’m doing wrong? I’m trying so hard to be what people need and then I still get thrown away.

Maybe I need to come to that realization; that I will never be good enough. I won’t be good enough for Luc. I won’t be good enough for John. I won’t be good enough for Rowan. I won’t be good enough for my own mother. I should just stop trying altogether. What’s the point anymore? To give away more pieces of my heart? What happens when there are no more pieces left to give? 

I want nothing more than to be enough for someone. I want someone to genuinely love me and care about me. Is that possible? I want to be held close. I want to be wanted. I want someone to crave me as much as I crave them. I want to be thought about and cherished. I want someone to look at me and be so enthralled with me that all else passes away. But I don’t think that I will ever get that. How can one be consumed with someone so inconsumable? I’m not worth holding. I’m not worth wanting. I’m not worth craving. I’m not worth thinking about or cherishing. I’m not worth it. I’m just a girl who’s too broken to be loved. 

I don’t want to be broken. I want to be whole and fixed. It seems as though every time I feel like I have made headway and gotten better, something happens to show me how wrong I am. 

I told Rowan today that his divorce wouldn’t affect him as much in thirty years as it does now. That eventually he will move on and he’ll do better. Which I fully believe is true. He’s been through so much and he’s such an amazingly strong individual, I know he can take whatever this life throws at him. But it got me thinking about my relationship with my mother. Will it matter to me in thirty years as it does to me right at this moment? If you would have asked me eight hours ago, I would have said no. But now... I can’t stop thinking about all the things I will not get. 

I won’t have someone who helped me move into my first apartment. I won’t have a mother at my wedding. I won’t have family Christmases anymore. I won’t have family Easters, or birthdays, or Thanksgivings. I won’t have nights at the camp playing cards with my Aunt and Uncle. I won’t have those afternoons at my grandparents anymore. I won’t get to see how Emma and Thea grow up. I won’t get to be apart of their lives. My children won’t have a grandmother. They won’t know what it’s like to be spoiled rotten by Grammie. I don’t have a mom there for me when I go through heart break. It’s just me. 

It’s getting so hard. To bear it all alone. To be just me. I need someone to lean on and it spill this all out to. Not just using Tumblr as an outlet. But who? No one wants to hear from me. Mk just had back surgery. And she won’t understand. Rowan is becoming my friend again, which I am so incredibly beyond grateful... But he is dealing with so much right now. I can’t burden him with everything. And it’s not like he would really care. I’m just an ex. Just an old friend from high school. Nothing else. And why would I be? After all that I did to him? Hannah and Dyanna are good friends, but they’re so busy. And I don’t think that they would understand. Dy more than Hannah. But still... I can’t go to them.

After John, it became even more evident that it was just me. Losing him crushed me. He was the first person since Rowan that I thought I may marry. I loved him. I saw a future with him. I told myself after Jacob that I wouldn’t be serious with anyone unless I really thought that they might be the one. I had a few people that I was interested in or had a crush on. But I didn’t let it get further than that because I wasn’t going to give away part of my heart to someone who was going to not take it. And then I did just that. 

It hurt so much when he left. And brought back all my insecurities stemmed from my mother and father and Rowan; that I can’t be loved, that I’m not worth it, that I’m not good enough. My own father couldn’t stick around. My mother hasn’t spoken to me in years. And Rowan chose another over me, more than once. And John added to that fire. When he said that he couldn’t have a relationship, but wanted one, but had to take time to heal himself, and then went and got back together with his ex-girlfriend... That hurt so much. I thought that he was it. I thought I had finally been able to move on from Rowan and all the hope that still laid there. But I was wrong. I was just being used for attention, for comfort, for security while he was going through all that he was going through.

And what the fuck is this shit that I have with Rowan? Why is a part of me still so hung up on him? We’ve been talking over the past week or so and it’s made me so happy to hear from him and to have him as a friend again. I’ve literally cried at the thought of being able to see him again, at the thought of perhaps hugging him one more time. I miss his hugs. I miss his laugh. I miss his smile. I miss his humor. I miss his kindness. I miss his compassion. I miss his strength. I miss him. And I shouldn’t. I can’t. It’s been fucking years. Am I really in love with him still, or still hung up on the fantasy of us living “happily ever after”? And it’s not like it is mutual. He’s literally talking to someone. Also, I’m kind of talking to Luc? But I have no idea what’s going on with that. I do know that I still care so deeply for Rowan, and talking to him these past couple of weeks has made it abundantly clear that he still means so much to me. He was the first person that I could ever truly be myself around. The first person that I think I ever truly loved. I genuinely thought that I would be spending the rest of my life with him. And now, for whatever reason, I am thrown back into that way of thinking.

But then there’s Luc. But he has been so confusing. Does he want commitment or not? Does he actually like me or not? Considering my track record, I’m pretty sure he’ll just use me to get the emotional connection he needs at the moment until he finds someone better and who can do better than I. That’s how it has always been. I’ve always been the... “in-between girl”... I suppose you can call it. The girl that is “the girl” until they find someone that they actually want to be with. Like with Rowan, and John, and Jacob, and Ryan. I’m never “the one”. Probably never will be. So why does it matter what I feel anyway? Nobody cares. Nobody ever did and nobody ever will. So... again I ask, what’s the point?

What’s the point in me being here? To hand out McChicken’s? To scan groceries? It’s not like my friends need me. It’s not like I have anyone that would miss me. My mom probably wouldn’t even bat an eye. Maybe she’d think “good riddance”. Maybe she’d finally be free from all of the stress that I caused her. All of my friends would be. They wouldn’t have to worry about me ever asking for help again or for money again or eating their food or taking up their time. I would be gone, and they would have better lives. They wouldn’t have to listen to me complain about my stupid situations. They wouldn’t have to hear about my middle school boy drama. They wouldn’t have to wonder where I am or what I’m doing. They would be free from me and my stress and my burdens. 

Am I suicidal? No. Well. What’s it called? Passive suicidal tendencies? I don’t think I would have the guts to kill myself but if something were to happen to me, I’m not sure how hard I would fight. It’s not like it’s worth it. The world would be a better place without me dragging everything down. 

I hate feeling this way. I don’t want to. But I don’t want to go on meds. I want to just be normal. Also, not like I could anyway, even if I wanted to. My mom won’t even tell me what my freaking health insurance shit is. Oh! And I found out that she has been keeping money from me. I’ve literally had less than a dollar in my bank account for almost three weeks now. I have gone entire days without eating because I simply couldn’t afford it. I could have seriously used that fucking money.

Like what is even the point?

What the actual fuck is life?

This is so fucking stupid and I’m so over it.

[kaeyazuha]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

❝ I had a suicide attempt 2 months ago, and I still haven't quite gotten past it. It's really hard to tell anyone, you know? I'd like to ask for gn!reader opening up about these things. Diluc/Zhongli are my comfort characters at the moment ❤️ ❞

; This one was really nice to write since it hits close to home, so thank you for letting me write this for you! I hope it’s alright. The Albedo portion was requested by @plsdontaskmeanythingireallydont, so I hope that part’s good too!

; 3/23/22

; Fluff/Comfort

; CW: pointers to a suicide attempt (but no details), physical touch, poor mental health

     𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰 𝗥𝗮𝗴𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗿

✧ He actually needs to leave the room for a moment, or at least stand up and walk around to take a moment to process. The sheer thought of you leaving, especially by your own hands, sends his head swirling in ways he can’t even fathom. He’d take a moment to think, and then sit by your side and let out a shaky sigh before pulling you into the tightest embrace you’ve ever felt; as if he’s terrified you’ll just disappear if he lets go. If you pay real close attention, you’ll feel the barely-there tremble in his shoulders and hands while he lets out trembling breaths to stave off his own tears. Diluc’s a gentleman, refined and eloquent, but today you’ll see a side to him nobody would’ve expected; weakness.

✧ Not in the strength sense, Diluc’s more than strong- you’re well aware of that. But with the way he shakes when he holds you, how he quietly begs you to not leave or try leaving again, it’s obvious just how weak he is for you. After he has his moment, he’d start whispering quiet reassurances to you- telling you how strong you are, how proud he is of you, how happy he is that you’re still here with him, and he holds you as close to his beating heart as possible. If you start to cry, he does as well- though he does an excellent job of hiding it. At least, he thought he did. Your shoulder would grow wet with his tears too fast to go unnoticed by you, though you’re kind enough not to mention it. 

✧ After the matter, Diluc would try and set up a plan with you. This won’t just go away, and he acknowledges that; but he does everything he can to make things easier for you. For the both of you, actually, since the sight of you in so much pain is enough to send arrows through his guarded heart. Maybe it’s some unspoken signals you can use to tell him you’re struggling, maybe it’s a few specific days to take off and spend with you, or maybe it’s just a silent promise to be more open with each other. He’ll tell you more about how much he cares for you, and you’ll tell him whenever things get too much. Though, regardless of what happens, he still makes more of an effort to remind you just how dear you are to him.

- ✧ -

“Hey, ah…’luc?” Your fingers squeezed at each other, skin paling under the suffocating pressure, sticking together from the uncomfortable sheen of sweat. Archons this was so much harder than you thought. Should you really be bothering him right now? You debated for several minutes, agonizing over the thought of disrupting him for your own guilt conscience. Yet, he hummed, setting down his pen and looking up at you before pausing and taking in your disheveled state. Seeing your distress, he automatically stood up to lead you to the couch with a protective grip on your hand.

“Is something the matter, my beloved? Are you alright?” Gloved hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs stroking your skin tenderly, like a paint brush over a pure white canvas. Though, you felt more like a ruined painting- a work of art crafted by careful hands ruined by a clumsy spill of oily black paint. It dripped down, down the canvas and onto the floor in clear droplets, salty and hot against your skin, and those same hands brushed away the inky liquid without worry of staining himself.

“Actually, no…um…can I tell you something?” You hesitated again at the sight of his pleading eyes, lost and confused like a wandering puppy. The way he nodded gave you the slightest sense of reassurance, but when his right hand reached down to firmly hold yours, you relaxed. “A little while ago, I uh…attempted.”

His nose scrunched in confusion, eyebrows raising slightly before they shot downwards and his expression dropped with them. “Wait wait, attempted? Yo-You…you attempted…what?” Diluc shook his head rapidly, trying to will away the visual images staining his mind when you nodded once more, confirming his thoughts. “You…oh, (Y/n)...” He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t fathom the sheer thought, even with the limited words spoken he could still feel his stomach inverting and churning with every bated breath. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I’m so sor-”

“No.” He tensed when you flinched, eyes widening once more, he didn’t mean to say it so harshly. Hastily, Diluc tore off his gloves before cupping your cheeks again with a comforting feel. “No, please, don’t apologize. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to experience such a thing, and I’m sorry you had to tell me- that I didn’t notice on my own. But…I’m so very thankful that you’re still here.” You looked up at him slowly, afraid of the furious glare you were bound to meet- only to be pleasantly surprised by the reassuring warmth his loving gaze brought you. “Thank you, for being strong enough to stay with me.” He smiled, scarlet eyes brimming with crystalline tears that he silently prayed wouldn’t fall. But, when you wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed so tightly- as if afraid he’d let go, he let the tears fall without a second thought.

His hands raked over your back for a moment in peaceful quiet, the low rumble of his hums and thrumming heart leaving a comforting sound where silence once was. You allowed your eyes to flutter shut for a moment, ignoring the small stickiness of your eyelashes against your cheek. He smelled like black dahlia and the warmth of a campfire, aged wine lingering at the tips of his coat and sweetening the air. Though, when your hands wandered upwards onto his shoulders, you could feel the light tremble in his tense muscles. Worried, you looked up; only to be met with his hands resuming their place on your cheeks.

Diluc’s hands were warm against your skin, the callouses and scars brushing over your wetted skin smoothly with every movement he made. “Please, I beg of you; do tell me whenever you start feeling…bad. I want to be here for everything, and make sure you never get to the point where you feel like you have to do that again. You, and I, we’ll be alright, okay?” You paused, taking a moment to think over his words. Would you? Would you be alright? He didn’t give you much more time to think before he leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “We will be alright. I promise you with everything that I am, I won’t let this happen again. Soon enough, we’ll both forget it happened, okay? Or at least, we’ll be happy enough to pretend it didn’t.” One more kiss to the tip of your nose, and he pulled away to smile down at you.

“Thank you, for letting me love you the way you deserve. I promise I won’t let you get hurt again. So, please, stay with me, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

     𝗭𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗶 '𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘅'

✧ Oh, love, he’s heartbroken. When you come to him with tearful eyes, wringing your hands and staring at the ground, he’s already preparing himself for the worst. Are you going to ask him to leave? Have you had enough? But no, when you tell him the real reason, he almost thinks he prefers the latter. The idea of you suffering so much practically pulls his heart apart, especially since he didn’t know about it beforehand. However, he’s quick to recover and pull you into his arms with the most inviting of smiles. If you look closely though, you’ll see the way the corners of his lips tremble and pull downward.

✧ You’ll see a bit of protective Zhongli for a little while, he basically becomes your bodyguard for the moment despite it being just the two of you. One hand resting on the back of your head, the other holding you close by the waist- his chin resting atop your head as he whispers sweet nothings, and his thrumming heartbeat pressed to yours. He spends this time reassuring you, reassuring that you are not weak, but strong for surviving your attempt. That you are not a lost cause, and can be healed a little more each day. That he will not and will never leave you, since he loves you with everything he is. That this does not define you, and this will not change things between you other than he wants you to come to him more often. It hurts him, the thought of not being there when you want or need him, so please let him in. Please let him help to the best of his ability.

✧ From this day on, Zhongli’s a lot more diligent in caring for you. He was always eager to help before, but now, he wants to be even more involved. If he’s not in your line of sight at almost all times, then something’s probably wrong. He does his best to help with dinner despite his…limited knowledge in the kitchen, he buys little trinkets to help with your stress and distract you, he does mental health check-in’s for the both of you, he lets his hugs linger on you every time, and he never parts ways without three kisses; one to your forehead, one to your nose, and then one to your lips. You’ll feel him smile against you when he lovingly whispers his favorite phrase for you to hear-

- ✧ -

“My dear, please, what’s the matter?” He couldn’t lie and say he knew almost exactly what was on your mind, it wasn’t hard to miss the way you pulled yourself away. Amber eyes narrowed when you tensed, a grimace already forming at the thought of the conversation ahead. Not because of you, of course. No…he simply didn’t want to hear about how you’ve been hurting when you deserve a life so much happier than the broken parts you were handed. It felt almost as if the Gods had given you a piece from thousands of different puzzles, and told you to make it work- and that you did, but…there was always one piece that never fit quite right, and it would bother you for days on end. Day, after day, he’d watch you struggle with the pieces and he could only silently wish things were better for you.

“It’s hard to explain…I, ah-” You bit down on your lip, rolling it in between your teeth in a poor attempt to stave off the hot tears stinging your eyes. Not again, you mentally pleaded- the headache from your last meltdown still heavily prominent. Before you could try and reorganize your words, Zhongli’s arms had already made their way tight around your waist. One hand slowly slinked upwards and guided your head to rest on his shoulder, the other protectively pressing against your lower back. With every soft caress of his fingers, he gently quelled the roaring tempests of guilt plaguing your mind.

You could faintly hear him take a breath, forcing himself to relax. “It’s alright, love. I believe I know what happened. So, please, don’t be afraid. Not anymore.” He whispered towards the end, swaying ever-so-slightly as he held you. Zhongli smiled lightly when he felt your tears start to stain his shirt, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt when shaky sobs started to overwhelm you. “There, there, that’s it…let it out, it’s okay. I’m so proud of you.” Gloved fingers stroked over your hair, featherlight touches sending warmth throughout your skin. 

“Why? Wh-Why would you be proud after…I failed, Zhongli.” You tried to reason, grasping at the air for any reason to keep the blame with you.

“Your ‘failure’ is possibly the greatest thing that’s ever happened, at least to me.” He scoffed lightly, leaning back and leaning his face near yours so he could kiss away your falling tears. “This ‘failure’ means you’re still alive, and that’s all I could ever ask. I know this must be terrifying, as I did the next best thing…stepping down as archon was the equivalent to ending my life, but I started anew, as Zhongli. As your lover, and as your closest friend.” Hushing your cries, he smiled earnestly; keeping one arm snug around you to hold you close. “Let this not be a failure, but a new beginning. As cliché as that may sound, I want that for us all the same. Tomorrow, we’ll try again. And again, and again, until you truly want to stay.”

You stammered out a dry laugh at how calm he appeared, handling this like another business transaction. But, you found that your laugh died in your throat. Leaning closer to him, you could hear the erratic beating of his heart- practically pounding against his ribcage. Looking up, those beautiful Amber eyes held fear akin to a lost child amidst a battlefield. Looking down, his hands trembled where they held you. You sighed, reaching down and holding one of his hands within your own before resting your head over his heart; finding solace when it started to slow to a proper rhythm. 

“I’ll stay…I’ll try. I’m sorry.” Your mumbling was muffled by his coat, but he heard it all the same, and smiled at your words. Zhongli pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you securely in his arms.

“Please, don’t be. I’m sorry you had to go through such a thing. If you’ll have me, please, don’t hide these things from me. Allow me to share your burdens, and make them lighter. Soon, they’ll feel like nothing upon our backs; and instead, we’ll feel the sunlight on top of them. How does that sound?” He mused, chuckling lightly at your eager nodding.

“Then, we’ll do just that. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to one of my favorite areas in Liyue, somewhere you’ll forget all of your pains. But, for now, allow me to hold you just a bit longer…I love you so dearly, my beloved. Thank you for giving yourself a second chance.”

     𝗔𝗹𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗼 '𝗞𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝘇'

✧ ‘What happened?’ ‘How didn’t I notice?’ He knew you weren’t in the best state of mind, but never would he think it would end up going this far. Regardless, he handles the situation as best he can. He’d sit beside you and hesitantly ask if he can hug you; and when you agree, he practically lunges at you and envelops you in the warmest, tightest hug he can without being too overbearing. For a little while, he’d be silent- but if you could hear the tidal waves of thoughts running through his head, you’d probably beg him to shut up. Why didn’t he know? What if you didn’t make it? Why didn’t he do more for you? Why can’t he remember the last time he’s seen you smile? Why has he failed you to this extent? Why, despite his intellect, couldn’t he see the signs?

✧ You’d have to be the one to pull him from the abyss of his mind, cupping his cheeks and reassuring you that you’re still there. He’d appear lost for a moment, almost in disbelief that you hadn’t left him yet- Albedo’s already insecure about how inept he can be with social relations, this was a massive blow. But more than he’s hurt by this, he’s hurt for you. The fact that you hated existing so much that the only better alternative was death by your own hands is mortifying to him, and he’s almost angry with the world itself for letting you down. 

✧ He spends this time comforting the both of you with gentle and lingering touches. Ungloved fingers gliding up and down your back, tracing out small words and shapes with the silent promise of forever written in every touch. His head would rest on your shoulder, ear pressed to your pulse point as he takes comfort in every beat of your heart and hopes you can hear his own. One hand stays secure on the back of your head, guiding you to let out all of your tears onto his shoulder and protecting you from the outside world that’s been so cruel to you. Albedo’s not very good with words, so he says; and lets his actions do all the speaking. And with every caress of his hands, every lingering kiss, every fleeting touch of his fingers, he silently promises you a better future, and thanks you for being strong enough to stay with him.

- ✧  -

You mean…he could’ve lost you? If this…had worked…you wouldn’t be here. Your smile, your laughter, your angry outbursts, your random jokes- it would all be…gone. Why- no, how could this have been a possibility? You sighed nervously, finding his piercing gaze unsettling with how earnestly he stared at you.

“‘Bedo, please say something, anything…if you want me to go, I ca-”

“NO!”

You jumped, the sudden volume of his voice being louder than you’ve ever heard it. Albedo stammered out an apology, frantically setting down his notes before standing up and hesitantly tugging you into the tightest and most secure hug he had to offer. “Please…please don’t do that again.” He rasped, voice strained while he tried to calm the mass waves of confusing emotions crashing over him.

“I won’t, I’m sorry. I just…wanted to tell you…just in case.” It was hard to speak with how tightly he held you, messy hair tickling your cheek from where his head was buried in your shoulder. Albedo let out a deep sigh, standing up fully and changing positions so that it was you hiding in his chest, as he was afraid to let you see the sheer panic on his face. 

“No, I understand. I’m grateful that you told me. I just…don’t know what to do.” Mindlessly, he allowed his fingers to traverse your back, tracing small shapes and random loops into your shirt. “I want to be angry at the world for hurting you this badly, but I’m so glad that you’re still here with me, but I’m also confused since I never thought of this happening…please, do give me a moment. But…know this.” He didn’t pull away, but he leaned closer to your ear, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before speaking.

“I love you. I love you so dearly, and the mere thought of something happening to you is utterly horrifying, especially by your own hands. I want you to be comfortable, to be happy, at least in my presence. So,” He paused, stiffening at the feel of your soft cries against his shirt, but he continued so that you wouldn’t feel the same guilt he did in that moment. His touches were akin to the softness and light feel of a flower petal, almost ticklish with every brush over your skin, so warm despite the frigid air. “Please, talk to me. I’m rather inept when it comes to social relations, and I’m unable to catch onto all the cues, so please tell me when you’re in peril. Even if it’s a simple thought, I want to hear it; I want you to feel safe and comfortable enough to speak your mind.”

“I do, I just- don’t want to burden you. You’ve gone through a lot too, after all…” You muttered almost bitterly, keeping your gaze low enough to avoid his piercing gaze. He fell silent for a moment, before a heavy sigh allowed his shoulders to sink. 

“Burden?” He sighed. “(Y/n), you never have been and will never be a burden.” Gently, he coaxed you out from the safety of his embrace to face him properly. The softest of smiles- albeit sad- tugged at his lips and brought a twinkle to his azure eyes. “You are my lover, my muse, the highlight of every day I’ve had the privilege of experiencing with you. When you walk outside, the stars turn away in shame of how dull they are compared to you.” He let out a soft laugh at your shocked expression, having never heard such bold words from his lips. “You’re irreplaceable, love. I care so deeply for you that it hurts sometimes, so please…let me know when these things start to hurt you, so that I can help.” Slowly, he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it, then your palm, and then the pulse point on your wrist.

“It’s okay now, my muse. You have me and every star in Teyvat’s sky watching over you, and I’ll never allow you to hurt so deeply again. I love you, I swear it…thank you, for giving me more time to show you that.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Word Count: 3457

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

- Ky♡♡

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧; 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗷𝗼𝗶𝗻!

@storytravelled ; @irethepotato ; @paradise-creator ; @lordbugs ; @straymoon96 ;  @stage-lucida​ ;

[ahfbhdfgdx]

Please | Diluc x f!reader (NSFW)

Summary: diluc tries out some aphrodisiacs on u <3

Warnings: Smut, aphrodisiacs, intoxication, slight dubcon, oral, unprotected sex (lmk if i forgot any!)

Note: First post! If you like my writing, requests for nsfw or sfw are greatly appreciated :)

"Are you sure this is going to work..?" Diluc peered into the little vial that Albedo had bestowed upon him. It was a little bit foggy in there, a light pink tone. "This little of an amount too?"

Albedo nodded in silence, then walked back to his desk. "I think you'll find it actually works quite well. If it doesn't, let me know." He sat down and straightened the loose papers that were strewn across the tabletop. Diluc simply nodded in thanks and scurried out, closing the door behind him.

-xxx-

The sun has long set, nearing about midnight. Diluc stood in the tavern among the last few patrons chugging down their drinks. He wiped glass after glass, occasionally checking the clock. When would you finally be here, he thought to himself, placing another glass away.

"Don't get so worked up over her, Di!" Kaeya laughed, words slurring a little. He was sat at the counter with Rosaria. The rain pounded heavily on roof of the building, sending Diluc into further panic, although he hid it well. Maybe you had gotten caught in the rain? You could catch pneumonia out there! He tossed the rag down and leaned on the counter to catch a breath.

Rosaria glanced at Kaeya, both of them equally intoxicated and giggly, and turned back to Diluc. "Yeah, why are you so tensed up about her? It's not like she needs to abide by tavern hours anyway, she'll get here when she gets here!" She shouted the last line a little, Diluc scoffing at the stupor of these two. The tavern was closing in only half an hour. He could leave it open just for the two of you, it would make it easier anyway.

Suddenly, the door whipped open, and there you were, squeezing out your hair outisde the door. Head to toe, you were dripping wet. The three last people in the tavern turned to look at you as you laughed sheepishly. "I missed the forecast," you shivered and came to the bar counter, leaning over to kiss Diluc on the cheek, much to the delight of Kaeya and Rosaria.

He tensed up looking at you. Even fresh out of the pouring rain and all disheveled, you were still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. You had mentioned being ok with what he was going to do before, so he knew that he wasn't in the wrong, but the feeling of doing something so taboo got him going, especially with you standing right in front of him.

Glancing at the time, 12:30 am, he quickly ushered the drunken Kaeya and Rosaria out of the bar. "Shall I get you a towel to dry off?" He patted your soaked hair as he turned to the stairs. "Nonono," you laughed, "Drink first. Then towel."

He gulped. Now was the time he needed to do it, arousal and nerves swirling around his mind. "As you wish," He breathed out as he poured a glass of dandelion wine, your favourite. While his tall frame was turned against you, he carefully slid the vial out of his pocket, pouring it into the glass. It dissolved quite neatly, save a few sparks that flew out.

He picked up the drink, turning around and placing it hastily down in front of you. Giving him a weird look, you picked up the drink and looked at it for a good few seconds. Shit, I've been caught, he thought as he stared straight into your confused eyes. Shrugging, you took a swig of the wine.

Eyes widening, you looked up at his looming figure, "This is great! Did you put something in it?" You joked and giggled as you took another sip. His heart skipped a beat and shook his head. "I'll go get you that towel," Diluc started climbing the stairs, looking down over the railing to see you take another swig.

Looking down on the glass in front of you, your head started to feel a little floaty. Your wet skin started to feel a little warmer, maybe the warmth of the tavern was helping. That's all you thought, until you started feeling a pulsing feeling. Where's Diluc is all you thought as you took another short sip from the oh so delicious wine.

Diluc came back down the stairs, sneaking up behind you to place the towel over your now damp hair. Whipping around, you grabbed onto his waist and pulled him closer. "Diiiiiiluc.." You groaned into his stomach. "I'm so hot.. and so wet.." Your doe eyes looked up to him, gauging his response. His crimson red eyes looked back down on yours, starting to fill with lust.

He thought whether to just satisfy you now, or let you finish the substance he oh so intensely bargained for. "Don't you want to finish your drink?" In your foggy brain, anything Diluc says goes, so you nodded, still cuddled in his chest. He could get used to this, he thought as he gently grabbed the back of your head.

Bending down to whisper in your ear, "Would you some help with that?" You nodded again, turning your head to try and kiss him. "Yes please, Luc." That set a light inside of him as he picked up your spiked drink, pulling your head back a little. Moving the glass up to your lips, you parted them just enough to latch onto the glass, drinking it thirstily as he tilted the glass further and further, right till the very last drop.

As the wine went down your throat, you felt a sudden jolt of pleasure, moaning into Diluc's arms as he picked you up. It was as if any touch had you off the rails. As Diluc carried you up the steps to the third floor of the tavern, you peppered little kisses and nips all over his neck and cheek. "Where are we going..?" You breathed into his neck as he pushed the top floor door open with his hip.

Diluc placed you down carefully on the guest room bed, then stood back to admire the blank canvas in front of him. How beautiful you were lying there, moaning as you grabbed onto the bedsheets, a hungry expression on your face.

"Diluc, come here," you called out, shaking him out of his trance. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you, pinning you down. "Yes, my dear?" He cooed, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. You in turn grabbed his collar a bit harsher than you meant to, staring straight into his moonlit eyes. "Fuck me, Diluc." You whispered just close enough for him to hear. "I need it. Please fuck me.." You trailed off, feeling him start to trail his mouth down your neck.

"As you wish," He smirked slightly, unbuttoning your shirt one by one. "You really want it that badly, darling?" You nodded your head vigorously in return, threading your hands in his red locks. "I need you Dilu-" You were cut off by the man biting your hard nipple. Moans escaped your mouth in a steady flow as he licked and sucked it, playing with the other in his hand. "M-More please!!" You cried as the spike really started to set in, causing an unsatiable fire inside of you.

"You're so greedy, you know that?" Diluc growled, pinching your nipple with his hot fingers, it felt like a zap in your system. "I did this to you and no one else," He continued as he bit at you more and more. "By the end of tonight, the only thing that'll still be in your mind is me.." Only half of it registered in your mind, but the sound of his low voice vibrating through your system is all you needed to remember.

"Repeat it, my love.." He raised his face to be inches away from you, slowly reaching his hand down your unbuttoned pants, "Only I can make you feel this way." He toyed his finger at your entrance as you gathered the words in your mind.

"Only you can make me-"

He shoved his fingers inside you deep in, finishing your sentence with a scream. "D-Diluc-!" You huffed out as he started pushing in and out fast, curling at your g-spot. "More! More-" You yelped, bucking your hips, pushing his fingers in further. "Oh you want more?" He licked your jaw, sucking at the rainwater still left over. "Almost.. There-" You prepared to have the orgasm of a lifetime but was stopped short by Diluc pulling his fingers out.

You whimpered as he raised himself back up to your level. You were so cute laying there quivering, he thought. "What do you desire, y/n?" He inquired, toying with your wet hair strands, your face now a mix of rainwater, sweat, and tears of joy. "Give it to me, DIluc," You pushed his head down, craving that sweet release that was stripped from you.

He scoffed at your selfishness as he pulled down you pants and underwear, as if he didn't do this to you. He'll make you understand the manners you need to use for him. His tongue slit against your throbbing clit, sending you back on the ride. as he dined on your clit, his hand found its way back to your sopping entrance, continuing the pace he was going at before.

Your sight was blurry as you looked down, all you could see was the shape of Diluc. Him and the stars that filled your vision. You've never felt like this before, each lick and suck he did felt like its own orgasm. Diluc's doing this. Diluc's the one making you feel like this. Only he can make you feel this way. The words he put in your mind were the only words left at all as he took your brain away piece by piece, he was all that was left.

"Diluc.. Diluc.. Diluc!!" You screamed as you got pushed to the very edge. Suddenly, as if he could tell you were about to fully become his, he pulled himself away again. Tears rolled down your pretty cheeks as you brought your hand down, needing to finish yourself but to no avail. "Tsk," He sat himself up, giving you his fingers to suck off.

"I'm afraid only I can make you cum, my dear.." He peeled your hand away from your clit, and you moaned in defiance, at least as much as you could with his fingers in your mouth. "But you made a vital mistake," He took his fingers out, trailing them gently down your waist. "You didn't say please."

"P-Please Diluc.." You choked out, taking extra time to remember the word please, all you could think of is Diluc. "There you go! Was it that hard?" He tucked your disheveled hair behind your ear as he unbuckled his pants, taking the pants and shirt off. "Now you'll get what you deserve, my love." You pulled his underwear down in a frenzy, positioning his hard cock right at your entrance to take the work off his hands. "Oh how kind you are, y/n, positioning my own cock for me." He smiled a rare gleam as he pushed himself into you, finally getting to moan.

"You're s-so beautiful, so perfect," He complimented you for every deep thrust he blessed you with, "And you're mine." He growled the last one as he sped up his pace. Your head lolled back and all you could see is red in your vision. Not that you were to notice, but all you've been doing is chanting his name as you bounced from his thrusts.

"You come when I come," he pushes the words out with great effort as his pushes got shakier. Your legs were already shaking violently from being edged like you had, and you nodded your head as best as you could. "Ready?" He called out as he thrusted the deepest he could go.

"3... 2... 1..." He came with a loud groan right in your ear as you cried out his name, clawing at his back to get as close as possible. He filled you up to the very brim, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he slowly thrusted, coming down from his high.

Your eyes stayed close as he took himself out, resting on top of you with his hands in your hair.

"I love you darling.." He whispered as he pulled the covers over the two of you, but to silent ears. "Y/n..?" He lifted himself slightly to get a better view of you. There was no way you were going to have any senses for a good day at least. He sighed into a smile, and cuddled up close.

[professorthaddeus]

Mother, Father. This will be my final letter.

You know, I used to find the two of you everywhere. I would see the love I betrayed in the faces of families who are whole. I would hear your terrified screams in laughter. I would see your bodies twisted in agony in the flickering of a campfire. I would feel your blood on my hands every time I cast a spell.

I would find you everywhere, and so I held fast to the possibility that I would bring you back.

Today, I relinquished the chance of it ever becoming a reality.

I could have gone back and saved you. It would have worked. There were puzzle pieces in that chamber that I would have clicked into place; there was magic buried in those relics that I would have unlocked and unleashed.

I would have joined the ranks of mages of myth. I could have unraveled everything.

The chamber is nothing but ashes now.

I still find the two of you everywhere. Your dreams for my potential are in the spells I learned from Essek. Your hope for the Empire is in Beauregard’s pen as she fights for our people, stroke by stroke. Your love is in the grin that Veth shines on her son when he fires a toy crossbow at the ass of a local shopkeeper.

I miss you. I love you. I am sorry.

I hope I can still make you proud.

~

Caleb closes that worn, leather-bound book for the last time. Tucks it back beneath his arm, stands, walks to the entryway of his tower. His hand shakes as he reaches for the handle.

Well, you and the Nein got me to the door. Now I have to walk through it.

He takes a deep breath, then takes his first step outside.

He arrives in Blumenthal alone, visits their graves, leaves his letters in the ground.

And he gets to work. But in this, he is not alone.

Beauregard is there, matching every armload of books he carries with two of her own. They spend their days compiling records and narratives, wielding the truth both in court and behind the scenes—children of the Empire leaving their home better than they found it for the children who will come after them, just as they always vowed.

What wasn’t planned is this: a couple times every week, Beauregard drags Caleb out of the library. They teleport to a remote cottage in a location that few are privy to, where Yasha will have started preparing the ingredients for a new recipe from Caduceus. The instructions are often passed through a jumbled chain of Jester’s messages, and there always seem to be a suspicious number of bugs included for supposedly vegetarian dishes, but they make it work all the same. On more than a few occasions, Caleb plays referee while Beauregard and Yasha spar, safe in the knowledge that their attacks are of their own free will and they will never truly harm each other again.

Jester and Fjord spend much of their time on the open sea, but Jester’s voice is never far from Caleb’s ear. She tells him of everything from her newest tattoo victim to an encounter with a dragon turtle with a grudge, from a shanty about dicks she came up with on the fly to an update on a young half-orc girl Fjord has taken under his wing. Every once in a while, Jester will demand a reunion, too. Some of them are out of necessity—such as when Uk’otoa finally comes knocking and Fjord can no longer sail the other away—but many are not. They meet in Nicodranas when the Nein Heroez docks for a pastry run, they meet in Hupperdook for a night packed with drinking contests and celebone sticks and hugs for Kiri, they meet on Rumblecusp when life becomes too much and the nine of them sorely need to fuck off to a vacation. Soon, even Darktow is open to them, once Kingsley has unseated the Plank King and lifted their ban from the island. His reign is long, and it is magnificent. Until he grows bored.

Caduceus joins them for every mandated reunion, but for the most part, he tends to his garden or explores the world on his own. But he is never out of reach, and when he does not come to the rest of them, they go to him. It is not uncommon for Caleb to arrive in the Blooming Grove to see Beauregard already meditating by the pond. Other times, Fjord will be there drinking tea with Caduceus, and the three of them will share a quiet conversation, each far more secure in their words than they’d been over fish and chips all those years ago. Often it is just Caduceus and his parents and siblings, and Caleb will be invited to a family dinner in a home that Ikithon could not burn down.

Veth remains a constant in Caleb’s life. Of course she does. Sometimes, when the two of them are teaching the neighborhood kids how to point a copper wire, or reminiscing over a glass of sherry, or simply talking while she weaves flowers into his hair on the beaches of Nicodranas, he’ll think back to his old fears of losing her to her family and laugh. After all, how could such a thing be possible when he is a part of her family himself?

There are others, too.

Countless students who pass under his tutelage and grow into young mages who know that power should be used to protect, not to manipulate. A cat—well, there are many cats, but there is one in particular that Caleb does not own, a snowy white fey cat who slinks in and out of his classroom as he pleases, whose eyes seem to flash when the Martinet arrives to have a word, who settles into place around Caleb’s shoulders with a purr when the rare nightmare returns.

An unexpected kinship with Yeza, forged at first through mutual respect and an understanding in their love for Veth, but eventually growing into a friendship in its own right. It is one that unfolds in quiet nights by stacks of books, in gleeful debates when comparing notes on magic and alchemy, in exhausted evenings watching over Luc together while Veth takes a girls’ night out to cause some chaos with Jester, Beauregard, and Yasha.

His old friends, who, try as they might, never seem able to sever the threads that have always tangled their fates together. It is Eadwulf who comes around first, with the silent offering of a bottle and a grim smile as he and Caleb crumble the bricks of Vergesson to dust. Astrid takes time. It makes sense—she has always been a fantastic dancer, and for a while, it appears they will be trapped in a precarious political tango forever, stepping around each other in their roles as the Archmage of Civil Influence and a simple teacher who may or may not be practicing treason in his classroom. But in the shadows, Astrid pulls a few strings to keep Caleb out of prison. Caleb hears a rumor and sends the might of the Cobalt Soul after a colleague who wants Astrid dead. And eventually, she begins joining him and Wulf on their evening walks through the streets of Rexxentrum. They return to the dance hall. They get lunch. They share memories, relearn each other’s old scars, and discover that solace can still be found in each other the way it was when they were children. It will always be complicated. It starts to become beautiful.

And of course, floating by Caleb’s side every step of the way is Essek, a drow who has learned to curb his ambition and care for others, who has decided to make his own amends. The former Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, who now spends his days picking up cupcakes for Jester in Uthodurn, planting seeds in the Blooming Grove. Sitting in on Caleb’s lessons with a different face each week, sketching runes into the floor of Caleb’s home amongst scattered papers and spell components, curling up on a couch beside Caleb and begrudgingly getting through Tusk Love because he promised. A traitor, a hero, a lifelong friend. A steadfast love.

So when Caleb Widogast arrives at the final page of his story, he is no longer shrouded in guilt, or grief, or regret. No, he is surrounded by the warmth of his chosen family when he takes his last breath, when time has run its course and he is finally ready to meet his parents again.

(And even before he sees their faces, he knows. He knows he made them proud.)

—————

also on ao3 | my other cr fics

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Fjorester Week Day 3: Family

Read on ao3

Jester clutches Fjord’s hand nervously as they walk down the street. Nicodranas is bustling at this time of night, more so than usual. In the recent weeks the city has been abuzz with gossip as the Ruby of the Sea’s secret daughter returned to her hometown to open up a new art gallery. And tonight is the grand opening. 

Jester fights down her nerves as they get closer and closer to the gallery. Both of them are dressed up to the nines. Jester is wearing a glistening white dress with flowers embroidered on the hem, the skirt falls almost to the floor. Fjord’s tie matches Jester’s dress and he wears a light grey suit and a lollipop tie pin. 

Jester is sure Fjord can feel her sweaty palm as they turn the corner. Only three buildings down from the Lavish Chateau is a small brick building with the words Lavorre Art Gallery painted on the facade. It’s still early so there’s no crowd yet, but Jester knows that within an hour the street will be packed. It had been surprisingly easy to find and purchase this building, especially considering it’s proximity to the Chateau. Jester and Fjord spent the last five months transforming the building into the art studio of Jester’s dreams. 

The whole second floor has been converted into an art studio with plenty of room for canvases, paints, pencils, and any art supply she could desire. The first floor was renovated into a gallery with more than enough room for all of Jester’s paintings. 

Jester takes a deep breath and leans into Fjord’s shoulder as they walk towards the gallery. He smiles down at her and squeezes her hand. When they walk inside Jester breaks into a huge grin at the sight of everyone inside. She invited all of her friends to come early so they could have some time before the crowd comes. 

Inside are Beau and Yasha looking at a pastel drawing of  Xhorhas. Caleb and Essek talking with Kingsley, all three of them holding champagne flutes. Veth and Yeza are walking around, just looking at all the paintings while Luc swings off of Caleb’s arm. And Caduceus talking to Marion and Babenon. When Jester and Fjord enter everyone turns to look at them. 

“Hi!” Jester says. She goes to add on, but before she can her mother crosses the room and scoops her into a big hug. 

“I’m so proud of you, my love,” Marion whispers in her ear, planting a kiss to the side of her head.

“Thanks, mama,” Jester says with a grin. When she looks up, all of her family is surrounding her with proud smiles. Fjord stands a little behind them all and when she meets his eyes he's looking at her with such adoration that it nearly makes her melt. 

“Thank you guys for coming!” She bounces on the balls of her feet in excitement. “Okay so,” she looks at them all, a glimmer in her eye, “part of why I wanted you to come early is because I have gifts for all of you.” Jester claps her hands together and rushes over to the storage closet where she had stashed seven paintings the day before. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Jester,” Beau tells her. 

Jester shakes her head, “You guys are my family and you all helped me get here. I wanted a special way to say thank you.” With that she takes the first painting off the stack. 

“Beau and Yasha.” She hands the first canvas to Beau. On it is a painting of the two women facing away, holding hands. They are silhouetted by a brilliant sunset and the ground by their feet is filled with wildflowers. 

“Caleb and Essek.” This painting is of Essek and Caleb in profile, their heads bowed together, eyes closed. Around their heads are stars and fractals. 

“Veth, Yeza, and Luc.” This painting is of the three of them at the beach. Veth and Yeza hold onto Luc’s hands as he splashes in the water, all three of their faces scrunched up in happiness.

“Mama and dad.” This painting is a traditional portrait. Babenon stands behind Marion, looking over her shoulders with a small smile. In Marion’s arms is a little blue tiefling child, about four years old who looks at the two of them with adoration. 

“Kingsley.” This painting depicts Kingsley in his full pirate garb, swinging on one of the ropes, smiling brilliantly, the rest of the Nein behind him cheering him on. 

“Caduceus.” The last painting shows Caduceus with his arms around his family in the Blooming Grove. The seven of them smile happily, dirt on their faces and hands. 

As everyone is looking at their paintings, thanking her and telling her how beautiful they are, Jester walks over to Fjord and extends the last one to him. Of all the paintings, this is the one she is most nervous about. He gives her a fond look and takes it silently. 

The image is of the two of them dancing, smiling at each other in the way only two people deeply in love can. In the background is the beach and both symbols of the Traveler and the Wildmother. But the part she’s nervous about is the two gold bands that clearly are painted on both of their hands. 

It takes Fjord a moment to find the detail and when he does he looks up at Jester with a smile, “Does this mean what I think it means?” 

Jester grins and from her pocket pulls out a gold ring from her pocket. “I’m not going to get down on my knees because my dress is too pretty to get it dirty,” Jester begins. He shakes his head with a laugh. “Shush,” she tells him, “I’m trying to propose.” He shuts up. “Fjord, we both know that I don’t always know the right thing to say or the best way to express my feelings. But I know I love you and I know that there is nothing I would rather do than spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” 

“Of course I will,” Fjord says. She hears their family cheer as he pulls her in by the waist and kisses her. They’re both smiling too wide for it to be a proper kiss, but it feels just as magical. When they pull apart, Jester takes Fjord’s hand and slips the ring on his finger. Fjord blushes and says, “I, uh,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black ring box, “I was going to propose tonight too.” Jester laughs and stands on her toes to kiss him again. 

“You can propose to me after the party,” she tells him. “You can talk about how proud you are and how much you love me and-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Fjord shakes his head fondly. “You can’t spoil my whole speech.” 

“Then you should have gone first,” Jester teases. “I thought mine was pret-ty romantic, good luck topping it. You know-” Fjord cuts her off by pulling her into another deep kiss.

[troubatrain]

together by this christmas tree - p.l. dubois

a/n: happy december, so because The Maine’s Ho Ho Hopefully is a god tier Christmas song and I forgot how to write anything else heres like 5 words of just fluff. big shoutout to @prettyboybarzal​ for letting me just dump this fic on her for a few days so i could fuck around with the plot you are a queen!!

Pierre was in Los Angeles.

At any other time, he’d be pretty happy. The long West Coast road trip was one of Pierre’s favorites, he got to spend some time with his teammate’s, enjoy the warm weather, and play a few games that would hopefully end in a win. This time, however, he was sulking in his hotel room because he wished he was in Columbus. It was the first day of December, and Pierre knew that meant one thing - You were undoubtedly getting ready for the holiday season in whatever ways you knew how.

You stumbled into Pierre’s life by accident - literally. When Phillip was just a puppy, Pierre had taken him on a run. The French Bulldog pulled him with all his strength, causing you, who’d been looking at your phone to trip right over his leash. You assured Pierre it was fine, but while you were explaining to him that you had dogs growing up and sometimes shit happens your elbow had been bleeding before you could finish your sentence. Pierre offered to help you out, given his own apartment was barely a block away, and you’d been friends ever since. Friends. Just friends.

“Just tell her,” Tex says from the bed next to him, his road roommate having enough of watching Pierre sulk around their hotel room, “I’m tired of this.”

“Tired of what?” Pierre asks, his eyebrows raising. 

“This, the thinking about Y/N all the time,” Tex exasperates dramatically, he sighs, putting on his best impersonation of his teammate, “Y/N’s watching the dogs while I’m away. Y/N and I are trying that new French restaurant downtown. Y/N’s favorite holiday is Christmas and I’m not decorating with her. Dude, you’re in love with her, just tell her. I’m sure she feels the same way.”

“What if she doesn’t?” Pierre asks, finally admitting the real reason he’s yet to say anything. Pierre had been rejected a few times in his life, but he never let it get to him. That was because those people didn’t matter the way you did. You knew everything about him. You knew the way he took his coffee and the way he hated being woken up. You knew Pierre better than you knew yourself, and losing that was the first thing that’s ever really scared him.

“Well you won’t know if you don’t do something about it,” Tex sighs, frustrated with his two friends, “Or you’ve got to let her go.”

Tex walked out of their hotel room after he spoke, undoubtedly to get away from Pierre’s energy that was clouding the room. Pierre sighs, rolling over to the otherside of his bed and pulling up your contact. He did the math internally in his head for a moment, trying to figure out if you’d be asleep or not - smiling to himself when he realized you were probably still up. 

“Shouldn’t you be at some fancy LA restaurant?” You chirp, smiling on the other side of the phone when you pick up the Facetime call.  You were home, but Pierre could see two familiar figures snuggled together on her couch. You had become Pierre’s accidental dog sitter at the beginning of the season. He put finding one on the backburner, and when it came close to the start of the season, he was coming up empty. You offered three different times before Pierre finally came to his senses and said yes, not because he didn’t trust you, it was because if he had to watch his dogs love you as much as he does - he was never going to recover.

“Shouldn’t you be decorating for Christmas?” Pierre smirks, knowing exactly what the first day of December meant to his friend.

You loved Christmas, like in the type of way that made Pierre envious that anyone could be that happy from a holiday, and the first day of December was the day you went all out. A tree got put up in your apartment, a fake one because hauling a real one up to her place seemed like it would be too much, decorated elaborately in gold and white. You’d get dressed up in a set of Christmas pajamas, one’s that Pierre would scrunch his nose at but he secretly adored, and when he’d make fun of you for it - you’d just pout and call him a grinch.

“I thought I’d wait for you this year,” You mumble, hoping the lighting in your living room would hide the blush on your cheeks, “Speaking of Christmas…”

“I told you three times I don’t want anything,” Pierre reminds you, the argument sprung up twice a year, on Pierre’s birthday and the second the holiday season started. Pierre really had all he could want, his family and his friends were healthy, the team was doing well, and he could buy any material thing he wanted. His answer wasn’t a total lie, because he couldn’t think of anything he wanted besides you.

“You’re the worst,” You whine, throwing yourself back on the couch dramatically, Pierre watched Georgia spring up from next to you, the puppy dropping sloppy kisses all over your face. He thought about what Tex had rambled on about just before he called, that he had to just tell you, but you deserved it to be perfect. So he made a decision, he would tell you by Christmas and he’d spend every moment before that proving to you that he could be the man you deserved.

***

Pierre sighed, stepping back and looking at all of the pine needles that were scattered through his freshly washed BMW. He was going to have to get it cleaned, but the smile on your face would be worth it once he lugged that tree through your apartment building. It was part of his plan, one Tex had called stupid just three hours prior, but Pierre knew it wasn’t. You loved Christmas, and as much as you tried to never show it, you did always get a little bummed out that the tree in your apartment wasn’t real - something that not even the prettiest decorations could fix. So, Pierre decided he was going to fix it, and he was going to give you the best holiday you could ask for.

Pierre buzzed up to your apartment, the tree in his hands while he made his way up to your floor, holding up on his end of the promise he made to stop being a Grinch and help you decorate, “Special delivery.”

The snowman mug, undoubtedly filled with coffee and a tiny bit of sugar because that’s how you always drank it, slipping right out of your hands and onto the floor. The handle snapped off, but that seemed to take second place to the scene in front of you, “Is that-”

“A real tree? Uh yeah,” Pierre nods slowly, trying to not let the grin growing on his face show, “I know you say it’s not a big deal for your tree to be fake but-”

In all of the time you’d known Pierre, you were always his softer side. To the rest of the world, you almost seemed too sweet for the tattooed hockey player who wasn’t afraid to back down from a fight, but it wasn’t entirely true. Pierre had a softer side, one you’d seen shine through when he saw his mom or when a kid could stop him for an autograph, but they were never just random acts of kindness. You wrap your arms around his waist, taking a big sniff of the fresh pine scent that was sweeping through your apartment, “This might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“This is the nicest thing I’ve ever done for someone,” Pierre jokes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “Where are we putting this thing?”

Once you had the tree in the stand, it was time to get to work. The real reason you waited for Pierre wasn’t because his lack of holiday cheer was a crime, even though it was, it was because then you could hang up decorations using a ladder. Pierre was keeping the smile on his face, not because he was happy that he had a Santa hat hanging from his head or that he was untangling string lights for you while he wrapped them around the tree, but because you would show him every ornament you had with some sort of story as to why you bought it.

“Do you have a favorite ornament?” You ask, snapping a picture of Pierre’s confused face while he untangled the lights. He looked silly, the hat that you placed on his head was hanging off, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth while he tried to untangle the lights. He looked up at you, and you could see him thinking for a moment before he answered you.

“I do actually, I had this little Canadians skate that I used to steal off the tree to play with as a kid,” Pierre finally settled on, smiling to himself when he could practically see himself at seven trying to steal that ornament off the tree. His mother would scold him, and tell him there’s a million other things to play with but it just wasn’t that stupid plastic skate, “My mom used to get so mad at me for taking it but, I loved it.”

“So you didn’t always hate Christmas?” You tease, a giggle escaping through your lips.

“I don’t hate Christmas, I’m just not obsessed with it,” Pierre defends, “But maybe I liked it more when I was a kid.”

“Well be more like seven year old Luc, and get decorating,” You joke, tossing an ornament at him.

Three hours and two broken decorations later, the tree was propped up in the corner of your living room. It looked perfect, because there was nothing that could stop you from decorating that tree flawlessly, but Pierre was sincerely proud of himself for how much he’d actually helped. You were happy, standing in front of it with the gold star that went on top in your hand, “Well put it on.”

“Shouldn’t you do that?” Pierre asks before you shake your head no and try to hand him the topper. Pierre stays planted in his spot, knowing if he looked at you for just another minute you’d explain yourself.

“I’m too short to get up there and I don’t feel like getting out a ladder-” Pierre scoffed before you could finish your sentence, ducking down and hooking your legs over his shoulders without a second thought. You squeal, latching your hands on any part of him you could to stop yourself from losing your balance, “You could’ve just done it.”

“Hang up the star before I drop you,” Pierre teases, loosening his grip on your thighs like he was going to let you fall. Your laugh filled your apartment, and Pierre knew that had to be his favorite sound in the world. You place the star on top of the tree, Pierre stepping back so you could admire your work.

“Perfect?” You ask, your eyes scanning over the twinkling lights that seemed to just hang from the tree flawlessly. Pierre didn’t look at the tree before he answered, his eyes still trained on you.

“Yeah it’s perfect.”

***

The first snow in Columbus could not have come at a better time. Pierre had an afternoon game, and by the time he’d been out of the arena on his way back to his place, the snow was starting to just cover the ground. You had been at his place all afternoon, baking away pieces for a gingerbread house because you told Pierre buying one was unacceptable. You practically destroyed his kitchen, the counters covered in flour and pieces of gingerbread dough. You had Christmas music blasting over the speaker, lost in your own little world until you heard the door open.

“What happened in here?” Pierre asks, his suit jacket slipping off of his shoulders while he took in the sight in front of him. His kitchen was a mess, the dishes piled high in the sink while the entire place was flooded with the smell of gingerbread, “Did you rob a bakery?”

Pierre picked up the candy that was neatly placed in different cups on the counter. He looked at you with an amused smile on his face, “I didn’t come here to fuck around, and neither did you.”

With your words came a bright green apron for Pierre, he unrolled the fabric taking a deep breath and reminding himself that if he wanted you to know he cared about you, he was going to have to suck it up and build the damn house.

As it turns out, building the damn house was harder than Pierre thought. The cookie kept crumbling, the house kept sliding apart and Pierre couldn’t construct a roof to save his life. You, on the other hand, were working tireless at the most well constructed gingerbread house he’d ever seen. You were lost in your own little world, mouthing along to the Christmas music playing in the background. It would have been cute, and at any other time Pierre probably thought you were downright adorable, but not while another cookie broke in his hands.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Pierre growls, a pout on his face while he swiped the cookie crumbs from his hands.

You laugh at his disgruntled state, his back was hunched and his face was red. It was what he looked like after a bad game, except your friend who prided himself on acting like a tough guy was absolutely defeated by a simple gingerbread house. You drop the pastry bag that was in your hands, “You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed!” Pierre yells, stepping back in frustration, “It’s the house it won’t-”

“Luc, listen to yourself for a minute, it’s not the house’s fault,” You explain gently, you walk behind him and place both of your hands on each of his arms, “Try again and calm down.”

Pierre didn’t want to finish the house, but if your hands were on him he wasn’t going to tell you to take them off anytime soon. Your hands were wrapped around his arms lightly, your chin resting on his back while you peeked around his arm.  He grabbed the bag and you rolled your eyes at how tense he was, “Do you hold hockey sticks that tightly, jeez.”

Pierre turns around, giving you a glare and raising his eyebrows. You stifle a laugh, trying your best to keep it together despite how hilarious you found his mood to be, “Quit making fun of me and help me.”

“Okay, okay,” You nod, running your arm along Pierre’s arm while you watched him try and squeeze the frosting out of the bag, “Slower Luc.”

Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner.

Pierre’s mind was racing, trying to drive his focus in the direction of the house, and not the fact that you were standing behind him. The air in the kitchen was thick, the same weird sexual tension that seemed to creep up when the two of you were alone for too long was back and stronger than ever. Your fingers ran along Pierre’s tattoos absentmindedly while you whispered simple directions that were turning Pierre’s brain to mush. He couldn’t think of anything else beside the fact that all he wanted was turn around and press his lips to yours, but he couldn’t just do that.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, while your logical side told you that you were simply telling Pierre how to build the silly little house and this shouldn’t feel so sexual - but it did. Pierre touched you all the time, a hand on your back while you guys were out, a kiss on the forehead whenever he hugged you and you never thought anything of it until you realized he didn’t do that with everyone. So you panicked, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head that reminded you that you wanted him, and pretending like it never happened. That wasn’t easy, and every minute you spent with Pierre you could feel yourself falling into him like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

The moment was ruined by the sound of a cookie sheet hitting the floor, and the sound of a scared puppy’s feet running away in fear. You both jumped, your hands flying off of Pierre when the realization that you were doing it again washed over you. You were letting yourself pretend like this could lead somewhere and that one day Pierre would choose you and it would all work itself out. Except that was just hope and hope wasn’t going to stop your heart from getting broken.

“You should shower, I’ll start cleaning,” You offer, moving around the kitchen to clean so you could hide the blush on your cheeks.

And a cold shower was probably what Pierre needed.

***

This wasn’t part of my Christmas activities.

You were whining while Pierre drove down to the arena, the Blue Jackets family skate was that afternoon and he insisted you went. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, but you couldn’t  stop yourself from reading into things. He’d never brought you to the skate before, so why now?

“Isn’t this on that silly list of Christmas activities?” Pierre reminds you, tapping your leg lightly with his free hand, “Or do you just not know how to skate or something?”

“Well…” You start, Pierre’s eyebrows raising while he focused on the road ahead of you, “I don’t-”

“You eat Christmas cheer for the entire month of December but you don’t know how to ice skate? When were you going to tell me?” Pierre teases, chuckling while he shook his head at you.

“It never came up!” You defend, crossing your arms at him for teasing you, “And I didn’t tell you for this exact reason.”

Pierre made fun of you for the rest of the ride, teasing you that you should skate with his teammate’s kids who were practically toddlers and were probably better than you were. You walked into the arena behind Pierre, immediately smiling at the familiar faces of his teammates and their families. You made your way to his stall, Pierre telling you to sit he could get your skates laced up. You bit your lip, watching his hands work at the laces as delicately as he could. You were sure he was rougher with his own, but Pierre’s touch was always light as a feather with you.

“Too tight?” Pierre asks, breaking out of your trance from his too big veiny hands.

“No it’s fine,” You squeak out, and you could hear Tex snickering to himself next to you.

Pierre wasn’t a bad teacher for someone who almost tossed a gingerbread house across his apartment just a week prior. He was slow, his fingers laced with yours while he pulled you along and tried to help you skate on your own. It was a failure, and you looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time, but Pierre refused to believe you couldn’t get better. 

“You guys disgust me,” Tex chirps, hopping onto the bench next to you while you watch Pierre play tag with Savvy’s kids. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, “You’re both so disgustingly in love with each other why won’t you just admit it?”

“Because Pierre’s going to find someone else who won’t be me,” You sigh, picking at your nails. You told Tex this once before, when you were wine drunk and sad about the date Pierre was on, “He’s just my friend.”

Tex wanted to scream, lock you both into a room and force you to talk about your feelings. He wasn’t going to do that, because he didn’t want to be the demise of what he thought might actually be something, but god did he want to. You both were frustrating the hell out of him, and if Pierre didn’t nut up soon he was going to take matters into his own hands by New Years.

“You don’t know that, if you told him-” Tex tries his hardest to reason with you, make you see that it’s worth the jump because Pierre was on the other side waiting for you.

“So he can flat out reject me and never speak to me again? Really I’m good,” You huff out, swinging your leg over the boards to get back onto the ice. You were doing okay, until you started to push yourself forward. Two steps later, you were on your way to face plant into the ice until you felt two arms wrap around your waist.

“Easy there,” Pierre laughs, stopping you just before you fell, “You’re not an expert now.”

“You’re such a bully,” You tease, avoiding Tex’s gaze when Pierre intertwined your fingers to pull you across the ice. Tex watched you both, the shared laughs and longing stares were just proof to him that if people did have one person for them, you were it for each other.

Only if you could get it through your heads. 

***

The Savard’s threw a bigger Christmas party than you’d ever seen before in your life. You loved David and his wife, given Pierre introduced you to them as his adoptive parents the first time you ever came over for dinner with him. It was your favorite version of Pierre, the one who let David’s kids paint his nails and color the black and white ink on his arms. You walked up the well decorated driveway, your heels clicking against the pavement while you made your way inside.

“You need to go see your boy in the kitchen,” You hear Seth call over to you, grabbing your attention as soon as you walk into the house. You wave hello first, making your way into the kitchen to see a sight that you were most definitely not expecting.

Pierre was sitting on a candy cane throne, a big Santa hat on his head and equally as red suit to match. He had one of Nick’s kids on his lap, listening to the little boy about the train set he’d been writing to Santa about since Thanksgiving. Your heart grew about four sizes at the sight, you walked over and tapped Pierre on the shoulder, “Can I borrow Santa for a minute?”

“Are you Mrs. Claus?” The question was a simple one, and the two big brown eyes that were looking up at you were the only thing that didn’t stop you from saying yes.

“Mrs. Claus huh?” Pierre teases, pulling you onto his lap while you watched Nick’s son make his way back to his mother.

“I wasn’t about to ruin his Christmas,” You shook your head, running a hand over the white fur on the jacket Pierre was wearing, “How’d you get sucked into this?”

“I was going to say no, but then I knew you’d at least laugh at me,” Pierre admits, a blush creeping up his neck. His hands were wrapped securely around your waist like for a moment he could just pretend like he had you, “Wanna tell the big guy what you want for you Christmas.”

“Hmm, nothing,” You settle on, “And you won’t know until you finally tell me what you want.”

The sound of cheers flooded the kitchen, and when you went to look at what all of the ruckus was about you realized that you were the ruckus. Seth had a shit eating grin on his face while he held the mistletoe above your heads. You knew you were flush, the heat on your cheeks made it clear while Pierre looked like he was a pale as a ghost. He planted a kiss on your cheek, telling Seth to fuck off before you pushed yourself off of him, muttering an excuse about needed to use the bathroom. 

You had your palms against the sink while you tried to catch your own breath. This was the reason you never made a move, because you knew it wouldn’t end in some sort of heartbreak. It was clear Pierre didn’t want to kiss you, and that was enough for you to let him go forever. You wiped the tears that were welling up in your eyes, deciding that when you walked out that door Pierre was your friend and your friend only.

“Where are you going?” Pierre caught your arm when you tried to leave the party, the idea of going home for a good cry was far better than a rowdy holiday party. He looked insane, his eyes wild while he panted to catch his breath after he searched the house in a panic for you.

“Home, I’m just not feeling well-” You come up with an excuse fast, hoping the quicker you spoke the quicker you could get out of there.

“Is this about Seth? I’ll kick the shit out of him,” Pierre promises, latching onto anything that would fix your mood.

Your feelings were something Pierre was an expert at, probably because he never seemed to take his eyes off of you. He knew when you were upset just from your body language alone and you were definitely not happy. Was it from Seth trying to force the idea that you should be together or was it that he didn’t kiss you? It had to be the first, because if it was the latter then Pierre fucked up his entire plan to make you see that he loved you.

“No it’s fine, really I just think I should go,” You were begging Pierre not to fight you on this, so he wasn’t going but he was going to be damned if he let you slip through his fingers.

“Stay, Tex and I were about to sing Christmas karaoke,” Pierre offers, dragging out his words, “I’ll let you pick the song.”

Pierre and Tex ended up serenading you with the worst rendition of All I Want For Christmas Is You you’d ever heard. Their dance moves were a crime, and they were definitely the two most tone deaf people you have ever met, but their heart was in the right place. The mistletoe incident was forgotten for the moment, your attention directed at the silly drinking games you were playing with your friends. You sat on the kitchen counter in the Savard’s home, your head leaning on Pierre’s shoulder after you’d taken your fourth shot in the span of an hour. A hangover was definitely on the horizon, but for the time it wasn’t going to kill your buzz.

“I hate when you do that you know?” You poke Pierre’s side, grabbing his attention from the crowd of people in the kitchen.

“Do what?” Pierre asks, a bold hand landing on your thigh.

“Make everything better somehow, it’s pretty fucking annoying Luc,” You tease, taking a look at his face for a moment. Pierre smiled before he answered you, the kind where his teeth would show and you could see his little vampire teeth you loved so much.

“I’ll always make it better Y/N.”

***

You’re coming over right?

Pierre sighs at your question, your voice flooding the speaker in his car while he drove home from his game. It was December 23rd, and he wanted to sneak in a nap before his middle of the night flight to Montreal to see his parents for Christmas. He’d just finished an afternoon game, one where the team lost and Torts lost his mind on them before he shipped them off to Christmas break tired and angry, but he wasn’t going to miss out on seeing you before Christmas. He made a promise to himself he’d tell, come clean once he felt like you knew he loved you. Maybe you did, and if you didn’t you were in for one hell of a surprise.

Pierre took a quick right in the direction of your place, deciding you couldn’t wait any longer. His brain was switched to autopilot and when he opened your apartment door with the key you gave him forever ago, he realized what this was. You were sitting on the couch, a gift box in your hand that was undoubtedly for him and it hit Pierre like a freight train.

He didn’t get you anything.

Pierre could’ve punched himself, calling out every name in the book because he was an idiot. He spent so much time focusing on spending time with you, and going along with all of your silly little Christmas things that he didn’t even realize he forgot to get you a gift at all. Pierre just knew whatever was in that bag was thoughtful and perfect, and he was walking in empty handed.

“Open it!” You exclaim, your excitement couldn’t be contained. Honestly, you were surprised you made it this far without spilling the beans about the gift. 

You hand Pierre the box, and he opens it slowly, pulling the top of the box off and gasping at what was inside. The skate ornament was the same as the one he mentioned when you were decorating your tree, the blue and red Canadians logo faded a bit, “Is this…?”

“I called your mom and asked her for it,”  You admit sheepishly, a little embarrassed to admit just how often you did talk to Pierre’s parents. He didn’t call often, mostly because he simply would forget, so his mother would start just calling you instead, “I know it’s silly but I thought maybe it’d remind you that the holidays aren’t all bad-”

“I love it, it’s perfect,” Pierre whispers, letting the ornament dangle from his large hand, “I fucked up, I uh, shit, I forgot to get you something.”

You laugh, practically falling to the floor while the giggles take over your body, “Luc, you sucked it up all month for me that’s enough.”

“It’s not, I did all of this so you’d know that I loved you and when I told you it would make sense,” Pierre starts to ramble, pacing around your apartment, “And I couldn’t even be bothered to remember to get you a damn gift.”

“You love me?” You repeat, just to make sure you’d gotten clear what’s been up with him since the start of the month. You felt the shift, the extra acts of kindness that just weren’t normal for him, but you knew if you read into it you might end up disappointed.

“I’m hopelessly in love with you, like one of those romantic Christmas movies you love so much,” Pierre admits, looking at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen. You stood in front of him, dumbfounded that your best friend just told you he loved you, “Please say something.”

“Do you know what I want for Christmas?” You ask, taking a bold step forward and wrapping your arms around Pierre’s neck, “This year I want you alone.”

Pierre closed the gap between the two of you, and it felt like the entire world had stopped. The bustling city outside didn’t matter, Pierre’s flight in a few hours didn’t matter, and the brutal loss he’d taken hours later was on the backburner. Right now, Pierre’s hands were wrapped around your waist while your lips were pressed against his and he would have rather died than let go of you in that moment.

“So I don’t have to get you a gift right?”

“No you still do, but you can kiss me again first.”

[hookingminor]

certified freak - pierre-luc dubois

a/n: there’s some whores in this house (it’s me, I'm the whore for pld) this is pure smut just imagine that covid isn’t a thing ok sorry it’s also not proofread hope u enjoy! like always feel free to leave me comments and lmk ur thoughts! yes this is loosely based on wap (bc that song was written for him)

word count: 2.7k

warnings (18+): slight daddy kink, light bdsm/choking, pld spitting in your mouth (god I fucking wish)

-

The deal was this: if Pierre got a hat trick, you allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you (not that this was much different from any other time.) In the rare event of a dick trick, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted for a week.

Tonight he’d had a hat trick. And during the qualifying round for playoffs. And for the game winning goal. To say he was excited to come home to you after the game was an understatement.

In fact, it was all he could think about as he changed out of his pads and got ready for the post-game interviews. It was also all you could think about as you watched him score in overtime.

Knowing he would be busy for a little while after the game considering he was the First Star of the night, Pierre sent you a text as he got dressed.

I want you in nothing but my jersey when I get home

Your pussy fluttered at the message, your cheeks heating instantly when you read it. A few other girls asked if you were going out with them afterwards, but they all knew what you really meant when you said you just planned on celebrating alone with Pierre.

You left the arena soon after the game ended, and it took you nearly forty-five minutes just to get out of the parking garages. When you got back to your apartment, you checked your phone for Blue Jackets updates and watched a few of Pierre’s videos.

A lot of the questions centered around him, being as performed so well, but you were shocked at his coy replies to reporters.

“You’re now one game away from clinching a spot in the playoffs. Are you going to celebrate tonight or wait until you win that final game?” One man asked.

“I’ll probably just have a quiet night in tonight,” he chuckled with a smirk, and you knew immediately what he was thinking, “I’ll save the celebrating for afterwards.”

Maybe you were being a little impatient, but you took off your jeans and panties about half an hour before he said he’d be home. You unhooked your bra and tore it off immediately after removing your bottoms.

You let your hands drift lower on your body, slipping your fingers underneath the hem of Pierre’s large jersey. You’d been wet since leaving the arena, and now you were practically dripping onto your fingers as you waited in anticipation. Pierre wasn’t supposed to be home for another fifteen minutes, you had plenty of time to have a little bit of fun.

You spread your fingers through your folds, eyes shutting as you began to focus on the pleasure building in your body.

“Starting without me?” You heard a voice say. Your eyes snapped open, and you retracted your hand from your core in an instant.

Pierre stood in the doorway as he dropped his duffel bag to the ground. He stalked across the room over to the bed, looming over you as he tugged you closer by your ankles. You leaned up on your elbows and met his heated gaze.

“I thought the deal was I get to do whatever I want?” He asked, “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself.”

“Sorry, Luc,” you breathed out, “I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”

The look he gave you told you that was the wrong thing to say.

“So you thought you could get yourself off without me knowing?” He raised his brow. You shook your head vigorously, hoping to backtrack.

“No, I—,” you began to apologize, but Pierre lifted his hand to grip your chin. He cut off your sentence by pressing his thumb against your lips to silence you. Slipping his thumb into your mouth, you instinctively closed your lips around them.

“I think you’ve done enough talking,” he replied, “Suck.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked against his tongue and pressed your tongue to the pad of his thumb. Pierre’s eyes darkened as he gazed down at you. He pulled his thumb from your mouth, which sounded with an audible ‘pop.’

“On your knees,” he commanded, stepping back from the bed so he could unbuckle his belt. Eagerly, you lowered yourself onto the floor in front of him and placed your hands behind your back just the way he liked. On nights like these, all he wanted to do was take. And you were more than willing to give.

Pierre pulled down his dress pants along with his boxers before kicking them off to the side. His shirt was quick to follow and soon he was bunching your hair into one hand and tapping your chin with the other. You understood the signal. You opened your mouth at his indication and let your tongue roll out as you awaited his next move.

“Remember what to do if it gets to be too much?” He asked finally. In times like these, it wasn’t possible for you to use your safe word. So, since you weren’t able to touch him anyway, all you had to do was dig your nails into the back of his calves if it became too much for you to take.

You nodded your head in agreement.

“I need your words, baby,” he said tenderly as his fingers brushed against your cheek, contrasting the way he was about to completely destroy you.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Pierre’s hand tightened its hold in your hair before he slid into your mouth. He brought his other hand to grip at the base of your neck to help push himself deeper. Your tongue met the underside of his dick, and you closed your lips around his throbbing length.

He began with a few slow, deep thrusts, getting you accustomed to his size. You sucked harshly around his tip when he pulled back, and you felt his abs tighten at your movement.

“You good?” He checked in, staring into your dilated pupils. You nodded the best you could and punctuated it with another long suck.

Taking your answer as a green light, he gave you a dark look before increasing his pace. Pierre’s hips thrusted faster now, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each snap of his hips before he retreated.

He fucked your face with force, and you felt yourself gag around him every time he thrusted back a little further than the last time. Tears welled your eyes as you made eye contact with Pierre, and he felt his balls tighten as he gazed down at the mascara running down your cheeks.

Pierre’s jaw dropped in a low groan as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted as your doe-like eyes met his.

His thrusts became a bit more erratic, and you tightened your lips even further against him as you knew he was about to hit his high.

“Gonna swallow for me?” He asked, shoving his cock deeper. You didn’t even want to think about how badly your makeup had run by now, but you gave him a pleading look to keep going.

Reaching his high, Pierre paused his hips mid-thrust, stopping as you swallowed around him. He pulled back a couple inches before his head fell back in pleasure and you felt his cum hit your tongue.

You swallowed as much as you could but felt a little bit dribble out of the corner of your mouth. Pierre pulled out of your mouth completely, and you brought your finger up to wipe the remaining cum before sucking it off.

“God, you are so fucking hot,” he praised, affectionately wiping away your smeared mascara.

Helping you up onto your feet, Pierre pulled you into his arms and dipped his head down to kiss you roughly.

“Congrats on your hat trick,” you congratulated between breaths. Picking you up with his large hands, he lightly tossed you back onto the bed before crawling over you.

“If only I could’ve scored one more,” he said wistfully, his mind imagining all the things he could do to you in a week.

“Maybe try a little harder next time,” you teased, bringing him back down to meet your lips.

He chuckled at your joke as he dipped his head to your neck to place open mouthed kisses against the skin there.

Pierre’s hands trailed up underneath his jersey and squeezed around your breast. Your mouth opened in a small gasp, and he twisted one nipple between his fingers as he bit at your neck.

He pulled back for a moment to slide further down your body. He pushed up the bottom of the jersey to bunch around your waist to reveal your dripping pussy.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he commented in awe, “This all for me?”

“Always for you,” you moaned as he ducked down to bite at the inside of your thigh.

“Is this pussy mine?” He asked, meeting your gaze from between your legs. His tongue licked up your thighs until he stopped just outside of your folds.

“Yes,” you let out a shaky breath, “Only yours.”

Content with your answer, he licked a strong stripe up from your entrance to your clit. Your hand immediately flew down to grip at his hair that was beginning to curl with its extra length. His beard rubbed against your cunt, and your back arched off the bed with the added friction.

One arm reached out to keep you pressed into the mattress and your attempts to grind into his face were halted.

His tongue circled around your clit before he closed his lips around it. Sucking at your sensitive nub, you gasped in pleasure. Pierre ate you out fervently, you hadn’t even noticed he’d brought his fingers to your cunt until he’d slipped two inside of you.

He fucked you gently with his fingers as his tongue worked wonders on your clit. With his beard scraping against your folds, you felt your climax hit you suddenly and intensely.

Your toes curled as the white-hot pleasure ripped through your body. Pierre eased you through it, keeping his tongue light on your pussy until the shockwaves were over.

Before you’d gotten a chance to catch your breath, Pierre moved back up your body and engulfed you in a hot kiss.

You felt your wetness in his beard as his tongue entered your mouth to tangle with yours. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the feeling.

One of your hands snaked down between your bodies to grasp at Pierre’s cock, which was already starting to stiffen again. You pumped him a couple times in your hand until his grabbed your wrist to stop your movements. He removed your hand from him and moved it above your head. He took hold of your free hand to join the one trapped in his grip to immobilize you completely.

“Keep them there,” he stated before removing his hands.

You followed his orders obediently, and he rewarded you with a quick kiss. Pulling back, Pierre lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you sharply.

Your hands clutched onto the sheets beneath them as he began fucking you at a relentless pace. One hand rested by your head to steady himself as his other pressed fingertip-shaped bruises into your hips.

Pierre busied himself by sucking hickies into your neck as you bit your lip in ecstasy.

Your eyes flittered open as he moved his hand to your jaw. Squishing your cheeks together slightly, your mouth opened in a small “O” at the force, and something went unspoken between you two.

You let your tongue fall and relax as you stared into Pierre’s eyes. His grip changed so your chin was held between his thumb and pointer finger, and he took a second to gather some spit before he let it drop into your open mouth and onto your tongue.

“Jesus, fuck,” Pierre cursed, admiring the way you looked under him. His lips were back on yours almost immediately after, moaning into you.

When he pulled back, he pulled out of you in a quick motion. Pierre flipped you over onto your stomach and was piledriving back into you before you could complain.

Your face smushed into the mattress and Pierre’s arm stretched out to use your back as leverage while he pounded into you.

“I love seeing my name across your back,” he grunted out, his hands briefly moving to trace over the number ‘18.’

“Please, Luc,” you moaned into the sheets, “I’m so close.”

“What was that, baby?” He questioned, moving your hair aside to nip at your ear. You knew he heard you the first time, but he loved to hear you beg for it.

“Please let me come, daddy,” you whimpered, about to bubble over from pleasure, “I need it so badly.”

Pierre pulled your back against his chest, and his hand wandered up to your neck. He closed it around your neck lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to push you over the edge. The fingers on his other hand snaked down, and he rubbed tight circles onto your clit.

It didn’t take long before you fell over that familiar edge for the second time that night. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, and Pierre released unsteady breaths against your neck. His hand tightened around your throat for a few seconds as he thrusted up into your cunt, chasing his own high.

He let out a loud groan of relief as he released into you. You felt his warmth spread throughout your pussy.

Pierre went still beneath you and his hand loosened his grip on your throat. You both panted as you tried to catch your breaths.

Slowly, Pierre lifted you off of his dick, and you felt some of his cum drip out of you and onto his thighs. His eyes fell down to the sight of you dripping onto him, and he let out another low moan.

Before he decided to flip you back around and fuck you again, he removed himself from you altogether. Gently, he laid you down on the bed and retreated to the bathroom.

In your blissed out state, you hadn’t even noticed his absence until you felt Pierre spreading your legs again. You flinched at the feeling of the washcloth between your folds as he cleaned you up.

He tossed the washcloth somewhere on the ground, making a note to throw it in the laundry later. You still laid on the bed with your eyes closed as your breath finally began to even out.

Pierre joined you and rested on his forearm as he watched you regain your composure. His fingers darted out to trail over the skin on your stomach from where your jersey had ridden up.

“God, I wish I scored hat tricks more often,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Oh please,” you chuckled, “You know you can do this almost any time you want.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You hummed in agreement as you rolled yourself onto your side to face him. Your hand reached up to rub at the beard covering his chin. Normally, he didn’t grow it out this much, so you were thankful playoffs were still ahead.

“You should keep this,” you said, letting the hair scratch at your fingers.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. You nodded your head before leaning in to kiss him. Different from before, his lips sensually caressed yours, conveying all the love he had for you.

“Night’s not over just yet,” he said when you pulled back. You furrowed your brows in confusion at his statement.

“I think I can fit in one more round in the shower,” he suggested cockily as his fingers brushed over your hips, the indentations of bruises already beginning to form.

“Well, you did score a hat trick,” you concurred, “Can you get it done in twenty minutes?”

Pierre’s eyes flew to the alarm clock on your nightstand, and it was indeed 11:40. It wasn’t a rule that his celebrations ended at midnight, but you’d just challenged Pierre and he was not about to back down now.

“I only need ten,” he teased, tugging you off the bed and into the bathroom.

[miracleonice87]

Thousand

a Tyler Seguin one shot

a/n: I’m back! Last week was busy for me and this one is, too, but I have three other WIPs coming up after this one within the next little bit, so stay tuned. also idk if anyone else watches One Tree Hill (I know Tyler does 😉) but his family gives me major Nathan, Haley, Jamie, and Lydia Scott vibes in this one.

summary: still playing for the Stars, Tyler is recognized for his 1,000th career game and celebrates with his wife (the reader), family and team.

warnings: husband and dad Tyler being cute with his family and becoming a slightly silver fox (I think that def deserves a warning); hint of a daddy kink lollll

_____

February 22, 2025

Dallas

“Mama! Can I wear my new jersey from Uncle Jamie? Please?”

You pursed your lips, fastening the back onto your emerald earring as you looked at your five-year-old son’s reflection behind you in the mirror. You turned away from your vanity to meet him at eye level.

“Baby, you should wear Daddy’s jersey tonight,” you told him gently, rubbing his back. “We’re celebrating a really big milestone for him, so he’s gonna be recognized out on the ice, and we’re gonna be there with him, remember? I know it would mean a lot to him if you wore his jersey.”

Luca pushed his bottom lip out just a smidge, pouting just like Tyler was famous for doing. You bit your own bottom lip to hold back a laugh.

“Okay. Well, can I wear Uncle Jamie’s next game?” Luca bargained.  

You smiled at his tenacity and smoothed your hand over his crisp white dress shirt that you’d laid out for him. You put your forehead to his and assured, “Absolutely.”

Luca perked up and stood a little straighter at your promise.

“Thanks, Mama,” he said. You kissed his cheek and said, “You’re welcome, baby. Thank you for understanding.” He nodded and turned to leave the room, presumably to pull a 91 jersey from the ever-growing collection in his closet. He stopped short and turned back to look at you.

“Hey, Mama?” he began. “Hmmm?” you prompted, trying to fasten your necklace and suddenly wishing you’d had Tyler put it on you before leaving — not only was he much more capable, but the way he always kissed the nape of your neck after securing the clasp made you melt each time.

Luca paused, smiling down at his sock feet before lifting his gaze to you again.

“I’m really happy for Daddy,” Luca said with a smile so sincere it made you melt. You were such a sap for these Seguin boys.

You nodded, choking back tears. “That’s sweet, baby,” you said. “I’m really happy for him, too.”

_____

An hour later, after dressing yourself, your son, and your two-year-old daughter, you pulled into the private parking area within the gates, Luca bopping up and down in his car seat, ever anxious to get inside the arena. The moment you unloaded both kids, they took off for the door to the arena.

“Luca Paul Seguin, slow down, please!” you instructed in your best mom voice, fumbling to throw both your purse and the diaper bag over your shoulders. “Hold onto your sister’s hand, bub,” you requested.

Luca smiled brightly and turned toward Harper, extending his hand toward his toddling little sister, who took it with a giggle. You finally caught up to the two of them and scooped up your daughter as you stepped onto the elevator, headed to the front office floor. When the doors opened, you were greeted by Tom Holy, the Stars’ VP of communications who had become a close friend over the years.

“Here are the real stars of tonight’s show!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands once, making you laugh. Luca ran to him for a hug and Tom playfully dusted off Luca’s little shoulders that now donned his favorite black Seguin jersey.

“Nice jersey, Luc! Hey, I gotta tell you, though, we have something else for you and your sister to wear tonight — if you want to,” he said.

You shot Tom a warning look as he produced a black tote bag from the reception desk, telling him, “You did not.”

He gave you a wink and said, “Do you know us at all by now? Of course we did.”

Much to Luca’s delight, Tom pulled two home green jerseys from the bag, with white 91’s printed on the back and sleeves and the “A” adorning each chest. But the nameplate didn’t hold your last name — instead, it read “DADDY,” with “1,000” printed below the jersey number. Luca jumped up and down with the jersey in his hands, while Tom handed the smaller jersey for you to dress Harper in.

“And we got a little something for you, too,” he added, reaching his hand into the tote bag once more. Your eyebrows shot up, caught off guard.

“Why me?” you questioned, feeling completely undeserving.

“Because, he says it himself all the time — he wouldn’t be the person he is without you,” Tom told you earnestly. “Tonight we’re celebrating all of you.”

He handed you a small black box and you froze for a moment before he extended it further, insisting that you accept it. You slowly grasped the box and pulled it open. Inside lay a pin nearly mirroring the style of lettering on the back of the kids’ jerseys, but instead it read “Seguin - 91 - 1,000,” encrusted in diamonds and emeralds.

You covered your mouth with curled fingers, attempting to steel yourself so that the waterworks wouldn’t commence just yet. You warmed inside at the incredible kindness of the gesture, giving Tom a hug.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said softly. “You guys are always first class.” He waved you off as you retrieved the pin from its box and fastened it on the lapel of your long black blazer, paired with a lacy camisole, jeans and black heels. You propped Harper on the desk to switch out her jersey for the new one, Luca having already made his own outfit change.

_____

In the tunnel, you had Harper on your hip and held tightly to Luca’s hand to prevent him from running to the ice and interrupting warm-ups. Your kids were used to standing at the boards where they could watch the guys drill and give their dad knuckles on the glass — where he could tap his blade in front of them each time he skated past. But not tonight. They might not realize it for years to come, but tonight would be even more special than watching their dad skate in front of them.

After a few minutes, you felt a hand come to rest on your shoulder — Jim Nill’s. You smiled at him and leaned in for a hug as he greeted you warmly and gave Luca a fist bump.

“And this little one…” he added, tapping Harper’s nose lightly as she grinned up at him. “She’s gotten so big. She’s too cute — you sure she really belongs to Segs?”

You laughed and remarked, “Pretty certain, yeah. If you saw her dramatic side, or how she is with the dogs, you’d see the resemblance.” It was Jim’s turn to chuckle.

Tom sidled up next to the two of you and advised you on how the presentation would go.

“So, we’ll roll out the carpet, and you guys will head all the way down to the end. Jim and Bones will follow. Tyler will come and stand next to you guys on the ice and then we’ll do the presentations,” he instructed. “That sound okay?”

You nodded and smiled at Tom. “Yeah, it sounds great. Honestly, I’m just a little nervous about holding onto these two so none of us fall on our asses,” you half-joked.

“Well, Gramma can help with that.”

At the sound of the familiar voice behind you, you spun around and gasped, while Luca exclaimed, “You’re here!”

There stood not only Jackie, but also Paul — the two were always willing to come together for momentous occasions in their children’s lives, especially now that you and Tyler had given them the gift of grandchildren, and you were grateful. You had had no idea that they were coming, even having spoken to Jackie the day before, asking her once more if she was sure she didn’t want you to book her a flight to Dallas.

Tears welled in your eyes as you shook your head, completely at a loss for word as they flanked you. You squeezed each of them tightly and whimpered, “Does Ty know?”

Paul shook his head. “He has no clue,” he responded. Jackie added, “And the girls are up in the suite already. They wanted to watch it all up there.”

You could only shake your head repeatedly, barely having time to recover before hearing the PA announcer ask the fans to turn their attention to the ice. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your knuckle and passed Luca duty off to Jackie, keeping a hold on Harper yourself, as Tom smiled and winked at the five of you.

“Not even a warning, Tom?” you teased, sniffling. He chuckled and squeezed your shoulder.

“No way,” he remarked. “Your reaction was priceless.” You shared another smile before you saw Rick stepping onto the green carpet near the boards.

“Here we go,” you breathed, leading your in-laws out to the ice past Rick as directed, not without him stopping you to give you a kiss on the cheek, squeeze Harper’s hand, and pat Luca on the back.

You stepped carefully along the fabric-covered frozen surface, concentrating on a beaming Tyler before you, Harper already reaching her arms out for him as he waved at her. You knew immediately that there was no point in fighting her on wanting to be held by her daddy, so as soon as you reached the end of the carpet and gave Tyler a peck, you handed her off to him, Tyler kissing her rosy cheeks.

The crowd “awww’d,” but you could only concentrate on the dumbfounded expression Tyler wore upon looking up from Harper’s “Daddy 91” jersey to smile at you before noticing his parents only a few feet behind. Rarely, if ever, left speechless, Tyler was completely in shock.

Jackie came forward to reach for Tyler, singing, “Surprise!” as she threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh, my god. I can’t believe you guys are here,” Tyler finally said, his voice shaky. Jackie kissed his cheek and pulled away to wipe tears from her eyes.

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, son,” Paul assured as the two men embraced.

After thanking his parents, Tyler crouched down to greet his boy — practically his own self, in miniature.

“Cool jersey, bubba,” Tyler said, glowing with pride as he nudged Luca’s chest and squeezed his hand.

“It says ‘Daddy 91’ on it!” Luca pointed out. Tyler giggled boyishly and kissed Luca’s forehead. “It sure does, doesn’t it,” he said, Luca nodding.

Tyler stood upright once more, snaking an arm around your waist as you held onto Luca’s shoulders in front of you, smoothing his hair affectionately. Tyler then noticed your new pin, running the back of his index finger over it and commenting, “Wow. This is unbelievable.” You could only nod.

“You look beautiful, baby. But what, no ‘Daddy’ jersey for you?” he asked softly with an ornery grin, making your cheeks warm as you pushed your shoulder into his chest. You shared a quiet laugh and he kissed your temple, then the PA announcer turned over the floor to Jim.

“Stars fans, you all know better than most just how much this night means to our number 91,” Jim began. “We as an organization have watched him grow, both as a person and as a player, since his fourth year in the league. We have witnessed the way he has blossomed, from an outstanding young player into a seasoned veteran. Tyler Seguin has become one of the most prominent leaders of this franchise, and I know I can speak for all of us when I say that we could not be more proud to call him a member of our family.”

The crowd cheered, so loudly that Jim had to pause, Tyler blinking back tears as he squeezed your hand tightly and nodded to the fans appreciatively. Even Harper began to clap, making Tyler laugh and kiss her sweetly, sniffling when he looked back to the crowd.

“Tyler, we thank you for the role that you have played thus far during your time as a Dallas Star, we look forward to many years and celebrations to come, and we recognize you tonight for reaching another milestone in your career in the National Hockey League — 1,000 games. We are thrilled to have your lovely wife and your beautiful family here with us tonight to celebrate you. Now I invite our captain, your dear friend, Jamie Benn, to join us and present you with gifts from your teammates, then Rick and I will proudly present you with gifts on behalf of the organization.”

You had held your emotions together decently thus far, but when Jamie glided over to you with a huge bouquet of white roses in one arm and a small gift box in the other hand, you felt tears trickle down your cheek. Jamie stopped in front of your family, greeting you first. He gently grasped your shoulder and kissed your cheek as he placed the bouquet in your arms.

“For you,” he spoke. “Love you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for him — for all of us.” You nodded, reaching up on your tiptoes to wrap your arm around his neck and whisper a thank you of your own into his ear, Jamie smiling at you tenderly when he pulled away.

“And for this guy…” Jamie began, extending the black box, which you now could see was marked with the Rolex logo, Tyler’s way as Tyler wrapped his arm around Jamie, hugging him tightly, the two of them exchanging private words of gratitude. You swiped at your tears as you watched Jamie pull back to kiss Harper’s cheek, making her squeal with delight at the attention her favorite uncle was showing her.

You all laughed, and Jamie turned his attention next to his godson. He bent at the waist to look Luca in the face, his wide grin growing even bigger. Jamie held out his fist and the two engaged in their special shake and bake handshake, Jamie ruffling Luca’s chestnut brown curls atop his head as he stood straight again.

“Love you, buddy,” Jamie told Luca, extending his hand for a low-five. Luca slapped his palm and beamed up at his beloved uncle. “Love you, too,” he confirmed, Jamie winking at him.

Next, Rick approached and presented Tyler with a gorgeous crystal award, engraved with Tyler’s name, the Stars logo, and the date and statistics from his 1,000th game against St. Louis a few nights before. Jim gifted Tyler a silver hockey stick from the Stars organization to commemorate the occasion, and Tyler thanked them both profusely, hugging them as the PA announcer asked the crowd to now look to the scoreboard for a video tribute.

This was one part of the evening you had known was coming — Tom had arranged for you and the kids to be filmed congratulating Tyler on the actual night of his 1,000th game, in the wives and girlfriends suite. You had inquired about who else was being asked to be part of the video, and Tom rattled off the names of some of Tyler’s closest friends, current and former teammates, and most respected fellow athletes — his sisters, Freddy, Derrek, Marchy, Tom Brady, Rob Gronkowski, Jordan Spieth, Dak Prescott, and many of the Stars he had played with for multiple seasons all made appearances, including Jamie, who smiled at you as he skated behind you to watch.

“1,000 games. Did you ever think we’d all be here?” Jamie asked you softly as the video started, glancing Tyler’s way.

You, too, looked toward your husband, his face lifted to the Jumbotron, and you noticed the way his handsome features had only become more distinguished with age and the few grey hairs sprinkled near his ears and in his beard. He always groaned when you jokingly pointed them out, but you loved them — in your eyes, they told the story of his life as a man, his life as a hockey player, his life as a dad, his life with you. This occasion was just another chapter of Tyler’s dream come true — your dream come true.

You glanced back at Jamie and nodded, smiling. “Actually... yeah,” you answered, a hint of surprise in your tone. “I think I did.”

_____

Late that night, long after you’d put the kids to bed — with Luca having insisted on sleeping in his new jersey — you and Tyler lay cuddled up on the couch, wine glasses now empty on the end table, feet entangled on the ottoman. The gifts Tyler had received were propped on the mantle across from you, out of reach of children’s hands and dogs’ paws. Tyler kissed the top of your head, inhaling your scent deeply as you absentmindedly fiddled with the button on his loosened dress shirt collar.

“Are you happy?” you asked softly. Tyler breathed a chuckle. “I don’t think happy even begins to cover it,” he told you, smoothing his hands up and down your bare arms. “It’s more like… amazed. But it’s not even because of the 1,000th game.”

You rolled your head toward his to look up at him, meeting his gaze. “What do you mean, baby?” you asked.

He glanced at the new additions to his memorabilia collection and then back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching into a thoughtful smile.

“The ceremony was great. The best. I’ll remember that for the rest of my life,” he told you. “But what I’ll remember most is the way you looked, carrying the baby and just smiling at me walking onto the ice. And the moment I saw my parents with Luca between them.” Tyler’s voice quivered as he spoke, and you tightened your grip around his waist, laying your stomach against his to lean up and kiss his jaw. Tears shone in his eyes as he gave you a grateful look, pulling your hand to his lips to kiss your fingers.

“My career has been far better than I deserve,” Tyler added. “But what makes me the happiest is just getting to do life every day with you, and the babies. And my parents and sisters, too. I’m just really feeling blessed.”

As he sniffed, you pressed a kiss firmly to his lips and said, “Life with you is more than I could’ve ever wished for, Ty. Every day is like a celebration of the love you and I share. Everything else, like tonight — it’s just icing on the cake.” Tyler nodded, giving you one more kiss as he whispered his gratitude for you.

[aeruthien]

Out of the Door and into the Beyond

Fandom: Critical Role Characters/Pairing: Widobrave

Summary:

After the visit to his parents' grave, Caleb is in need of his life partner and best friend.

Or, me not believing that Caleb wouldn't immediately seek out Veth after THAT happened.

Also read it on AO3

--- "Sir? Are you alright?"

The voice pierces through the fog in Caleb's mind, and the world around him jolts back into focus. He is shivering, only now aware of the cold damp which has penetrated deep into his clothes.

He blinks once. Twice.

When had it grown dark?

With a flicks of his wrists, three golden orbs appear into the night sky, illuminating an older man, whose arm flies up to shield his eyes.

"Careful!"

Caleb ducks his head in.

"I am sorry," he mutters. The light disappear, and he waits quietly for some kind of retribution even as he pushes himself to his feet.

What ditch had he fallen asleep in? He presses a palm against his forehead, ignoring the wave of nausea in his stomach, trying to recollect his thoughts.

"That's alright," the man grumbles. "You just spooked me, is all."

He sighs, and Caleb relaxes marginally.

"To be honest, you would not be the first one who lost track of time here. Many lost souls, after the war."

Caleb frowns and forces himself to focus on his surroundings. In the dim light of the stars and moon, he can make out two large, flat stones in front of him.

A cemetery. He is in a cemetery. How did-?

His stomach lurches. Suddenly, the satchel at his side feels horribly empty, and without it, he is off balance. Untethered.

With a shock, he realizes that the man had been speaking Zemnian the entire time.

"Honestly, son," the man continues gently, "it looks like you've seen some hardship yourself. Are you here for a friend?"

Caleb shakes his head and stumbles away from the graves.

"No, I-,"

His eyes dart around but don't take anything in.

"I must go."

He doesn't wait for a reply, and flees as fast as his shaking legs can carry him. In the distance, the lanterns illuminating the village of Blumenthal give off an almost ethereal glow.

Caleb stares at it, until the bang of a closing door shakes him from his thoughts.

Then, he teleports away.

---

Late night visitors are not a strange occurrence to the Brenatto household. What is strange, though, is when they knock. The members of the Mighty Nein would normally just barge in unannounced, whether or not they had send word of their arrival ahead.

Yeza glances over with wide but determined eyes, ready to get to Luc out if necessary, and Veth sneaks over to the door, her crossbow in her hand.

She waits a second, but the knock does not repeat.

"Who is there? I warn you, I'm armed."

No response. She mutters a soft curse under her breath.

"Here goes nothing."

With her Mage Hand, she pulls the door open, her crossbow immediately trained on the silhouette outside.

It is humanoid. Large. Should have worn the fucking goggles, Veth thinks in the second it takes her eyes to adjust to the darkness. But the figure does not attack. Or move. And then Veth realizes who it is.

"Caleb?"

---

Caleb follows her willingly as she leads him inside, but gives no other indication that he notices her presence. Yeza's fearful expression morphs into concern, and he sprints ahead to open the door to their guest chamber.

"Come on," Veth urges as they approach the human sized bed. "Sit down, Caleb."

His gaze is vacant in a manner she has not seen since the aftermath of Trent Ikithon's trial, and and shivers are running through his body.

"I'll make some tea," Yeza offers uncertainly from behind her.

Veth nods. Tea is good. That at least she learned from Caduceus. If nothing else, it would warm him up some.

"I'm going to take of your coat, now, alright?" she says softly.

As expected, Caleb does not respond, but Veth keeps narrating her actions as she undresses him and pulls a blanket over his shoulders. When she is done, she continues with stories about Luc, taking his hands in her smaller ones to warm them up. The familiarity of it is jarring. She had spend many hours hidden inside empty barns and dirty inns, chattering softly into the silence as she pressed close against Caleb, waiting for him to return to her after a bad day.

At one point, Yeza enters with tea, and an instinctual hiss of protection almost escapes from behind her teeth. When he is gone, she picks up her stories, muttering disjointedly about Luc's newest friends, the apothecary, their new trade agreement with Pumat Sol, and her new magic. She is halfway through elaborating on one of the more recent parent-teacher meetings -Luc had shot a bully with a crossbow-, when Caleb takes in a deep, shuddering breath.

Veth pulls away from her position curled against his side.

"Caleb? Are you with me?"

He blinks, gazed unfocused.

"Veth?" he whispers.

"Hi," Veth smiles. She stands and presses her lips against the side of his head, hugging him gently.

"What happened?" Caleb mutters, his voice slurred. One arm curls around her, and Veth sighs in relief.

"Well, you tell me. You teleported on my doorstep."

Caleb eyes dart around the room.

"Oh."

A pause.

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't matter, silly." Veth grabs a cup. "Here. Tea. Cleric's orders."

The cup is small in Caleb's human hands, but as his fingers close around it, the shaking seems to subside a little, which Veth takes as a win.

"You know, Cay, of course I do not mind having you here, but... why now?"

She perks up.

"Wait! Did someone hurt you? Do we need to kill someone? It was Ludinus wasn't it? I knew it! I'll call the others-"

"No, Veth, no. It was not Ludinus."

Veth sinks back down. "Oh.... But we still get to kill him right? I'm sure Beau can think of a plausible reason."

Caleb's lips curl up briefly, and Veth grins. There. Mission accomplished.

"Let's leave him for another time, ja?" Caleb murmurs with exasperated patience.

"Alright, alright," Veth concedes with a huff. They sit a moment in companionable silence. Before the Nein, this is where she would have let it be, if she had even gotten that far. They would have waited until daybreak, each with their own fears and regrets, and too scared to grow closer yet too scared to leave.

"Tell me what happened?" Veth prompts softly in the warmth of her home.

"I think..." Caleb starts. She squeezes his hand in encouragement.

"I think I stepped through that door."

Veth sits up sharply. Caleb is staring at the floor, but there is no pain or sorrow in his expression. Instead, there is a tentative wonder.

"But," he says, words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth, "I do not know if the door is closed behind me. And I want to run back. As fast as I can."

Veth waits a bit before answering, making sure he is done talking.

"That is great, Caleb," she says tentatively. His head whips around to her, but she continues before he can object.

"It is great! You did it! And it is very scary, I get that, but now you know what it feels like on this side!"

She puts her hands on his cheek.

"And if you do step back, it will be easier to go through it again the next time. Until you can close it for good."

Caleb stares at her, before taking a shuddering breath and closing his eyes.

"Ja. Maybe."

Veth pulls him against her so that his forehead rests against her shoulder.

"I'm proud of you."

Caleb's fingers dig into her arm, and his shoulders start shaking.

"I miss them," he chokes. "So much."

"I know." Veth presses another kiss against his hair. "I know."

She holds him as he cries, until finally exhaustion drags him to sleep. She stays the night curled up against his side like they had many times before, and when they wake, it is to the smell of fresh bread in their nose, and the high pitched squeals of her son in their ears.

Caleb is quiet at breakfast, but smiles gently at Luc's antics, and when she catches his gaze he gives her a shy, grateful nod.

"Let's go to the beach!" Veth declares to break any tension, and her family happily agrees.

Maybe the door isn't closed, she thinks as they drop themselves down in the sand, the warm sun shining down on them. And maybe it will never be.

But she will try her hardest to make the outside of it worthwhile, so Caleb has a reason to stay.

[violet-t-9]

Check in on my (not very realistic) wish list for episode 141

 1. Blooming Grove Clay family reunion! Hugs and tears! Home-cooked meal and tea! Much needed relaxation and downtime after saving the world.

Ay that was a nice meal and a good night’s sleep.

2. Widogast’s Nascent Nein (9!) Sided Tower because Caleb still has a spell slot for that! So many cats and books. Also, rooms for Essek and Molly (9!). Bonus: seeing more rooms on the 8th floor of the tower?

Oof well thanks Trent now we don’t get to see the tower again, ever. I’m 100% sure that Essek will see his room during the Aeorian study fun times and Luc and Yeza will see their rooms in magical summer camp with professor Widogast though, so I’m happy.

3. Check in and visiting Allura to return her staff and Kima’s Holy Avenger (”hey we saved the world killed Lucien stopped the city Allura are you proud of us? You are? Tell us who is on the Tal’Dorei council.”)

They mentioned it, but they didn’t play it out, unfortunately. Alas, the members of the Tal’Dorei council shall forever remain a mystery.

4. Check in and visiting Yussa and Wensforth to apologize for their last visit to the Tidepeak Tower and using his emergency exit plan, but Yussa being too grateful to be saved from a screaming city hivemind to care.

Yep, thank you Caleb for remembering Yussa lol. Should have known that he would want to study the Happy Fun Ball... Wizards sharing knowledge, how nice! Also, Veth’s goodbye to Wensforth was very sweet.

5. Molly getting more and more of his memory back and slowly becoming his old flamboyant self.

I... wow I mean I guess Kingsley? This technically happened? He is going to become someone new, which is always exciting! He got a lot of... interesting memories back too. He is also interested in learning about Molly’s memory too, even though he is somebody else (and just as flamboyant).

6. Caleb says goodbye to Frumpkin and there is either a sweet farewell or Frumpkin just goes “nah fam I choose my wizard you can’t get rid of me”.

Aw Frumpkin didn’t feel ready to leave at first... :( The actual farewell was indeed short and sweet, I loved it. 

7. Beau and Yasha moments, conversations, fun times, shameless PDA, or potentially fade to black because they deserve it.

Camping outside at night, aw. Their moment after the Zeenoth trial was very touching as well! “Yes, my love?” and “my Expositor” lol how romantic they are. They are planning to settle down and explore Yasha’s past together! Their honeymoon little trip! Also, “I will have you and then some” was indeed hot.

8. Jester and Fjord being domestic, adorable and sharing kisses/conversations or potentially fade to black because they deserve it.

The sleep snuggle was soo cute and Jester’s love admission was adorable! Also the rain and double confession wow Fjord what a romantic man. Their conversation in Nicodranas was sooo cute guys. They planned boat trips!

9. Caleb and Essek have a long one-on-one conversation about their “it’s complicated” relationship and have some more physical contact (still reeling from the forehead touch last episode).

Caleb attempting to include Essek in the globe of invulnerability and Essek dragging Caleb away from melee combat aw. The kiss on the cheek and the empathetic hug... I will take the time travel conversation as well. 

10. Veth, Yeza and Luc’s joyful/tearful family reunion and happy fun times in which Veth and Yeza may or may not celebrate in private.

Aw that was a nice reunion, so very cute. Veth gets to fully return home to her family after saying goodbye! I’m going to assume that she celebrates her return with Yeza in private. 

11. Cad’s moments with his family and also with Molly (because it’s fun to watch them on screen together and conversing let’s be real).

Caduceus gets to be with his family now, enjoying life at the blooming grove! He deserves the relaxation!

12. Jester’s reunion with her mother with big hugs and finding out that parent trap TM has succeeded thanks to her genius plans. Also, the gentleman being a super awkward but loving dad.

Yes I knew it would work! The gentleman is a nervous drinker confirmed lol. The mother-daughter talk was very nice and a great reminder!

13. The Mighty Nein plans for the future: getting rid of Cloven Crystal, Fjord visiting Vandran (with Jester probably, who discusses Tusk Love with him) and maybe Sabian? Yasha’s plan to bring flower to Zuala (trip with Beau?). Beau’s plans regarding Zeenoth’s trial (has that happend yet? Does she want to go?) and Caleb’s plans for the assembly (or even further ahead, magical school? Aeorian research with Kryn Colleague? How pissed is Ludinus Da’leth?)

Well, the empire siblings sure started a task force against the assembly huh. Also yeah Caleb you tell him, F**k your vacancy Martinet Ludinus Da’leth! Professor Caleb will teach Luc. Astrid would be more interested in the position anyways. Fjord got to visit Vandran with Jester and got him to join their sailing adventures! Jester also talks about Tusk Love with him wow. Beau testified against Zeenoth with Yasha by her side! Yasha gave flowers to Zuala on a trip with Beau! Caleb and Essek got to do their Aeorian research study! Fjord’s cloven crystal adventure was also addressed! I’m so good at predictions you guys I KID YOU NOT I predicted everything.

14. Getting an update about Astrid and Eadwulf to find out that they are in fact doing fine because Trent is in deep trouble and under heavy investigation by the Augen Trust and Cobalt Soul (bonus: Trent is already starting to get what he deserves. Or even better, Trent has died from liver failure in jail. Like his jaundice really kept getting worse so one can hope I guess?)

F**k you Trent, you just had to show up and ruin everything didn’t you. Well, Astrid and Eadwulf are fne now, and Trent IS in deep trouble and rotting in jail. Still hoping that he will die from liver failure after like, a few years.

15. Fjord officially “meeting the parents” and Gentleman/Marion giving Fjord the shovel talk because that didn’t happen last time.

Aw he didn’t go with! But the gentleman did talk about Fjord anyways lol and gave her some sound advice.

16. Wedding mentions/discussions? Proposals? Anyone? No?

Well Jester proposed to marry... her parents? Lol did not see that one coming. Veth and Yeza renewing vows yes! It was a nice suggestion. 

17. Artagan/sprinkle joins in the celebration because why not (bonus: Sprinkle gets to be free! Or whatever an undead weasel could be lmao)

Artagan and Jester’s conversation was very nice development for them. Sprinkle gets to stay forever, unfortunately for Sprinkle lol.

18. Obligatory wish for Essek’s fancy dunamancy or magical items (like I know we will never see dark star probably but I live for spell casting flavours).

Essek’s hold person on Trent was clutch, “stay down”, what a king. The tether essence, lightning bolt and gravity sinkhole were all wonderful. Still sad about the dark star never being seen though.

19. Obligatory wish for the polymorph spell (look, I just love it okay).

Hey, Jester threatened Astrid with it! Polymorph mention wins! Fjord was sad about the potential choice of turning her into a turtle but it would have been funny.

20. Obligatory wish for Caleb to use more fire/customized/dunamantic spells creatively or with nice flair (what’s sexier than wizards NOTHING).

What’s sexier than counterspells and dispel magic NOTHING. Also hey, the manacles of stasis worked!

21. Discussion about Essek’s future because oh boy can he even go back to the Dynasty? Have they found him out yet? If they did, how mad is the Bright Queen? Are Volstruckers too busy to chase him down? We need to know!

Oh man I mean Essek found a way to live freely at least! With a lot of illusions and identities, of course. He also got to stay in contact with the M9! I think he may show up in campaign 3!

22. Group hug! Group feast! Group cheer! I dunno, just do group stuff. They are the Mighty Nein, they are the Mighty Nine, they saved the world!

A lot of group hugs and feasts! I especially loved the hug when they said goodbye to Essek. 

23. Visiting/checking in with other NPCs or allies potentially! Like Kiri, Calianna, Twiggy, Keg, Shakasta, Bryce, Dagen oh also the Hag (I’m kidding).

They checked in with Orly! Not these allies but you know, Orly is awesome. 

24. Obligatory wish for everyone (the Nein, their friends/families) to get a happy ending that gives me a feeling of satisfaction and fulfillment, and that the episode/campaign ends with a poetically beautiful scene!

Yes, it was a very poetic and very beautiful story indeed

I love the Mighty Nein/Nine, I love the cast. I’m so grateful for their story in my life. Words are not enough to describe my thankfulness for being able to go on this journey with them.

Now excuse me I just need to go sob in a corner.

My score: 19/24

Seriously though check out #13 I’m proud of that one

Other Highlights: 

Caleb hit 100 HP OMG I too am proud of him.

Well I didn’t expect the boss fight but I’m glad we are getting one? 

Caleb’s produce flame was used by Veth on Fluffernutter, nice!

The Veth + Beau putting collar combo was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, also there is something poetic about Caleb relying entirely on his friends and Astrid to carry out the collar tactic on Trent.

The forced empathy commands by Cad lmao wow angry Cad is scary, too bad Trent didn’t have any.

Veth’s silent image... Caleb disintegrating and burning everything in the T-dock... Caleb’s book for his parents... Professor Widogast... Excuse me I’m going to cry now.

[kae-karo]

how will you survive & Kaeya........

HELLO CROW since i know u are also not immune to pre-fallout kaeluc, pls enjoy (send me one of these prompts and a genshin character!)

only place i call home - T - 1.8k

tags: pre-fallout kaeluc, getting together, canon divergence

[read on ao3]

--

“So, I’ve been thinking-”

“Have you? How very unusual.” Diluc’s lips remain pointedly even when he speaks, though Kaeya can see his eye flick over to catch his stare. It’s only a moment before his neutrality breaks into a small smirk.

“I’ve been thinking,” Kaeya presses, brow quirked, and Diluc hums his amusement. “About...expanding my horizons.”

Hope flutters on delicate wings in Kaeya’s chest at the way Diluc stills. He stares at his book, but his eyes do not scan the words there, and his fingers do not flip to the next page.

“Expanding your horizons?” Diluc prompts, voice exceptionally neutral. Kaeya leans back, feels a shot of relief weave through his body.

“Indeed. It seems the Reconnaissance Company is looking for recruits.” The company dedicated to foreign affairs, to traveling the land beyond Mondstadt. Diluc lowers his book.

“I wasn’t aware you were interested in travel.” Such tension in his voice, it makes Kaeya’s heart race at the thought of it. He doesn’t want me to leave. Diluc does not say so aloud, but he doesn’t have to - Kaeya can see it clear as day, bright as dawn and the flames Diluc wields so spectacularly. How could he miss it? How had he ever doubted that Diluc cared for him?

Still, those fears drop in unannounced from time to time, occupying Kaeya’s every thought until he concocts some plan to put them to rest.

Aloud, he hums a noncommittal sort of sound. Shrugs when Diluc glances over at him. Worry knits Diluc’s brows together, a subtle thing that Kaeya could not miss if he’d been a mile away. He’s grown too close not to understand the way Diluc acts, the way he thinks.

And so, such a plan had been hatched.

“Well, isn’t it for the best that a Knight learn the ways of the world beyond our own borders?” He has little interest in travel, even less in leaving Diluc, but he does not say so. Not yet. Just a little longer, he’ll drag this out just until those pesky thoughts are silenced, until Kaeya can be nothing but certain that Diluc does not want him to leave.

“You could try picking up a book,” Diluc counters, lifting his own just slightly. Kaeya tips his head, hums. Feigns consideration for the idea.

“Ah, but I’ve always been partial to a hands-on method of acquiring experience.” He might let his stare linger just a moment too long on Diluc, just a moment to trace with his gaze the paths he wishes his fingers could trace instead. How he’d appreciate the chance to apply his hands-on learning to Diluc.

And they are close, of course, but not that close. Kaeya has not yet been able to convince himself to break that steady, unchanging relationship they’ve grown into. Cannot bring himself to dare to ask for more.

“You can learn plenty here, can’t you?” Diluc asks to his book, and Kaeya’s grin widens in the absence of Diluc’s assessing stare.

“Hm. Perhaps I could,” he says with a thoughtful tone, and watches with bated breath as Diluc exhales slowly, as his grip on his book relaxes just a fraction.

“Besides,” Kaeya adds after a moment, and Diluc’s gaze flicks over. His cheeks have turned a pale pink, and Kaeya itches to reach out and touch them. To close the impossible distance between them, though he can feel his familiar cowardice clawing its way up to hold him back. “I could hardly leave you alone here.” Diluc’s eyes widen just a fraction, and Kaeya rushes his next words. “How would you survive without me?”

A huffed breath, and Diluc shakes his head, turns his gaze away. Kaeya wonders at how close he’d come to admitting it aloud - that he did not want to leave Diluc. And, too, at how Diluc had reacted. Of course he doesn’t want Kaeya to leave, that much is clear, but…

But Kaeya should not wish for more than that. For Diluc to want him to stay is more than enough.

“You think too highly of yourself,” Diluc says with grumbled words, and Kaeya laughs. It’s a nervous laugh, he’ll admit to himself, but Diluc likely can’t tell the difference. He quirks a brow at Kaeya, rolls his eyes.

“Well someone has to appreciate my skills, since you certainly don’t.” This is easier territory, this gentle banter, teasing to get under Diluc’s skin. Familiar, safe, and Kaeya does not have to consider the danger he wants to throw himself into.

Because what happens if he steps forward and Diluc chooses to step back?

“Of course I-” Diluc clears his throat, dips his head and focuses rather intently on his book. “Your skills are just fine,” he says, and Kaeya’s brows arch up his forehead. “Now let me read, you said you’d keep quiet.”

Kaeya huffs out a breath and does not entirely know what emotion lies behind it: amusement? Perhaps. An aching, desperate kind of hope? Maybe, but he does not know if he wants to give that a name just yet.

Instead, he leans back on the sofa, reaches for his own book - as yet unopened - and reads the first page. Then reads it again, when it refuses to latch on in his head.

-------

Kaeya wakes suddenly at the creak of his door opening. Light spills in from the hall, faint and red-orange. The perfect illumination for the red-orange hair that follows.

“Diluc?” He sits up, watches as Diluc slips into the room, then inches the door back shut. When he turns, his gaze remains on the floor, though he wanders slowly over to Kaeya’s bed. Stands at the end, then glances up to meet Kaeya’s concerned stare.

“Do you really want to leave?”

Oh. So quiet, so- is he upset? Kaeya’s heart shatters - he supposes that they never truly finished that conversation, Kaeya hadn’t done more than suggest he might stay. He didn’t expect-

“No.” He didn’t expect Diluc to be so distraught, but it’s easy, so very easy to tell Diluc this truth. No, gods no, he has no interest in a life where Diluc is not a part of it, not even for a short time.

Diluc holds his gaze, fire burns behind his eyes, and Kaeya wants- gods, he wants to reach out. To drag Diluc here, to show him just how badly he does not wish to leave.

“Don’t say that unless you mean it.” Quiet, fierce. Kaeya huffs out a shaky breath - to know Diluc’s passion is one thing, but to have it directed at him...to be the focus of it, of Diluc’s fire…

“Luc.” He does reach out, this time. Doesn’t let himself think too hard about taking Diluc’s hand. “I don’t want to be anywhere else. I promise.”

Diluc stares, then. Holds Kaeya’s gaze with intent, with that same fire, and Kaeya’s heart hammers. He forgets to breathe when Diluc climbs onto the bed, when he crawls across the short distance between them. His hand never leaves Kaeya’s.

He stops, though, just before he gets too close. Just before they’d be sharing breaths, before Kaeya might- might lean in, might be the one to kiss Diluc first. Gods, to kiss him. Kaeya’s heart thuds a frantic rhythm, and he waits, watches.

It takes a moment to realize that Diluc’s getting closer, that his gaze flicks down to Kaeya’s lips in the near-darkness. That he’s so close, so impossibly close, now, and Kaeya swallows. Fights back the panic that wells up in his chest, because gods, he wants nothing more than to kiss Diluc.

So caught up in his fears, Kaeya almost misses when it actually happens - suddenly, warm lips press against his, and Kaeya’s eye goes wide, and he- he’s kissing Diluc. Or, really, Diluc is kissing him.

Diluc...wants him, likes him. Like this. Kaeya’s hand - the one not still clinging to Diluc’s - drifts up, cups Diluc’s cheek as his eye drifts shut. Gods, nobody said it would feel like this. Like fire incarnate, that Diluc would feel like his own flames. Warm, bright, gentle in a way fire most certainly isn’t, though it appears that way to the untrained eye.

Kaeya finds himself exceptionally untrained in the art of kissing Diluc. Not that he hasn’t kissed anyone before, but this is- it’s different. It’s better, and worse, and so impossibly overwhelming that he forgets to do much else aside from hold Diluc here and keep kissing him.

His lips move of their own accord, slide against Diluc’s with practiced ease even as he forgets his own name. And then Diluc hums a soft sound, hardly anything, and it shatters Kaeya - every fiber of his being splinters into a thousand pieces, and he forgets to care about how he should be acting or how he should kiss Diluc or- or anything else.

He pulls Diluc into his lap, though the blanket still separates them, and wraps an arm around his back, holds him close. Lives and breathes for the way that Diluc presses against him, warm from sleep and gods, from the way he’s kissing Kaeya. Like he’s wanted this for just as long as Kaeya has.

Diluc’s free hand twists into his hair, his tongue flicks out over Kaeya’s lips, and it’s all so much, so much at once, all of Diluc after so very long of convincing himself he’d never have more than his friendship. A grin tugs at Kaeya’s lips unbidden, and he can’t fight it, can’t keep it at bay, and his heart aches when Diluc pulls away.

He doesn’t go far, hardly an inch or two, just enough to catch the grin that Kaeya can’t hide quickly enough.

“What,” he grumbles, breathless and hoarse, and Kaeya’s heart flips over in his chest. He shakes his head, and Diluc frowns. “What, Kaeya?”

“Nothing, nothing, I just- gods, please don’t stop kissing me,” he manages, feels his chest flutter with those words, with the way that Diluc exhales against his lips before leaning back in.

------

He’s not sure what time it is when they finally agree to sleep - the sun might already be casting its earliest rays across the horizon, though he has no interest in finding out. Why, when his own dawn settles on the pillow beside him, curled up and warm as his breathing finally begins to slow?

Kaeya’s arms tighten around Diluc, and he buries his head in Diluc’s neck for a moment. Relishes that he has been allowed this, that Diluc- that Diluc wants him. Likes him, wants this with Kaeya. That his heart has not been shattered in the fragile process of placing it in Diluc’s hands.

“Kae,” Diluc mumbles, and it pulls a grin to Kaeya’s lips - he thinks he’s smiled more in this single evening than he has in his entire life. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

Do you really want to leave?

“I’ll still be here. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

I don’t want to live my life without you.