#of how important every voice that sings along w us is

[jsprnt]

Healing Hearts PT.5 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

C/W: nightmares, sleep paralysis, anxiety

WC: 3.515

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

She's yelling at me again, I stare at her. Just hoping she'll eventually get tired and stop talking. I take a deep breath, exhaling while leaning against the kitchen counter as she keeps on ranting. I glance around surprised, I'm back home?

"You should've stayed with him y/n! He was perfect for you, for us!" She shouts, while washing the dishes, seemingly very annoyed.

"Mom- we've had this conversation before. You know what he did- you don't feel bad for me?!"

I try to speak calmly, but my frustration gets the best of me as I raise my voice gradually.

"That doesn't matter! His mom's company and ours are in the same industry, you couldn't have sucked it all up, so we could merge when you got married to him?!"

I mumble a few cuss words under my breath, always the same shit. I loved my mother, but she could actually suggest the craziest things sometimes. How could she think the business opportunity was more important than my happiness?

I open my mouth again, trying to force words out of frustration out. I try to speak, but no noise comes out of my throat. Like my vocal cords got paralyzed in a few seconds. I grab onto my neck, my expression turning panicked. Looking at my mother for help, but she's staring, blankly. The look in her eyes sends a shiver down my spine.

The corners of my vision turn black, a fuzzy feeling washing over me.

I'm in my own apartment again, was I dreaming?

There it's staring at me, in the corner of the room. It's eyes piercing at me. It feels like it's going to pounce at me any second, a dark energy surrounding me. Fear filling my body.

I try to raise my head, but it's like my body is fighting against me, it feels like a hundred bricks are weighing down on my chest. I try to scream for it to leave, to get out. No words leave my lips, my thoughts racing wildly.

"No, go away! Leave, please!"

I squeeze my eyes shut, praying to whomever for me to wake up from this nightmare.

I gasp for air, my body finally gaining some autonomy back as I throw myself onto the floor out of panic. I was on the couch?

I groan, the hardwood floor is cold as my body is sprawled on the unwelcoming ground. I pick my body up from the floor, looking around trying to blink away my sleep. I realize my cheeks were wet from tears, I try wipe them away quickly.

I notice my bag and shoes scattered on the floor, my phone on the coffee table. The TV blaring today’s news as I had turned it on for some background noise in the house. I must've immediately fallen asleep on the couch after I came home from the training center. Too tired due to the sleepless nights I had this past week.

I check the time, deciding to eat something and to go outside to get groceries. I could lay in my bed every single day of my life if I could, but I had to at least try to do something active. Just to find a way to stay sane.

I grab my keys, shutting my door behind me as I go down. I put in my earphones, blasting my current favorite song.

The weather in Liverpool was surprisingly nice. Not too hot thankfully. I walk along my neighborhood, walking in and out of the shops greeting the staff of the shops I would regularly visit.

I walk into my apartment building again, two bags of groceries in my hands. I sing along to the song playing in my ear, trying to find some solace even on my worst days.

I walk into the elevator, pressing the button going up the highest floor. The two minutes ride is quiet, the elevator goes up smoothly, the doors sliding open. But, I'm confused by what greets me.

It's a child? Maybe around two to three years old. Whose kid escaped their apartment? I drop my groceries on the floor, squatting down to get on the child's level.

"Hey, honey. What are you doing here alone?"

My voice is gentle, looking around to see if a frantic parent is in the hallway.

The child giggles at me, her eyes twinkling as she spots a pack of gummies in my grocery bag. I grab it handing the pack to her. Trying to coax her to telling me where her parent was.

She starts waddling down the hall, I follow after her hoping she'll lead me to her home.

She stops in front of a door, it's a little further down mine. I knock twice, holding onto the toddlers hand.

The door swings open, revealing a very frantic looking women. Her eyes dart at me, then down to the toddler. She yells words of relief, picking up the child.

"Bella, baby where were you? I looked away for two minutes and you were gone!" She cradles her toddler, muttering concerned words. I notice her accent is not one from here, it's sounded almost American.

She looks at me, a smile replacing her panicked expression. She seemed young, maybe around my age?

She leans towards me, engulfing me in a grateful hug. "Thank you so much for bringing her back home."

"Oh no it's fine, I just was concerned since she was alone in front of the elevator."

We exchange some more words, followed by her inviting me in for coffee. I hesitate at first, but then remember I haven't even met most of my neighbors yet. I can at least try to get to know them. I put my groceries into apartment before walking back to my neighbor's place.

We both sit on her couch comfortably, the view in her apartment being similar to mine. I learn that her name is Sofia, she lives here with her toddler and her boyfriend. They had moved here for work apparently, her boyfriend being from Liverpool originally.

Our conversation flows nicely, it felt like catching up with a close friend. I hadn't felt this feeling in a long time. The FaceTime calls with my girls didn't feel the same as in person conversations.

I leave her apartment two hours and a new friend later...

I walk into the team bus, my bag slung around my shoulder. Eyes glued to my messages. Monet had finally gone on a date with the bartender guy. They had apparently hit it off immediately. The group chat had been blowing up since this morning, us wanting to know every single detail of their date.

My eyes dart back up around me, realizing I was one of the first in the bus. I walk down bus aisle deciding to sit all the way in the back. I chuckle to myself quietly, remembering how I would always run sit to at the back of the bus in high school.

I plop down in my seat, leaning back to see everyone else enter the bus slowly. The match today was against New Castle, the guys not being too worried since they had won against them most of the time. Sadly, Ibo had to be out of this one due to a hamstring injury, but we had estimated he'd be back in a couple of weeks.

"Can I sit here?" I look up realizing is Cody.

"Oh yeah of course, you want the window seat?"

He nods, giving me a smile. I make way for him to sit, observing the bus to see everyone else walk in seeing Joel and Virgil take the seats in the aisle next to us. The guys are given a small talk, before we finally depart, it was a three-hour ride after all.

My phone buzzed in my lap, the noise making me pause my conversation with Cody.

I giggle at the message Liz had sent. She had asked if Monet's relationship was a free booze membership for herself from now on.

"Who are you texting?" I look to my right, a smile still on my face. A curious Virgil is looking back at me, almost falling off his seat to see my phone.

I turn my phone screen, placing it on my chest and letting out a fake gasp.

"You're really nosy, you know that?" I state, turning my head back to look at Cody.

"Is he always like this?" I joke, knowing he'd play along. Our joke is played for around five minutes before we both burst out in laughter as Virgil looked a little annoyed.

"I was texting my girlfriends back home, are you happy with knowing who I'm texting hm?" I retort. He clears his throat and I can't help but notice a small smirk he is trying to fight back, his lips twitching as he tries to cover it up with running a finger on his lips.

I shake off the situation, turning back to Cody to continue our conversation before it was interrupted, again.

I notice the guys in front of the bus filming a TikTok, laughing at their banter as they tease each other.

I notice they are walking up to Cody and move my body slightly so can they film him. 

I watch as he starts talking about reading a book to be occupied during the bus ride. I muffle a laugh as I hear the other guys yell about how smart he is.

I turn my head to look at the others filming a TikTok catching Virgil staring at me for a split-second. I avert my gaze, checking the notifications on my phone.

"You have Instagram?" I hear Cody look up from his book. "Of course I do, why?" This leads to the guys eavesdropping, leading to my phone buzzing with follow requests, they were definitely quick with it.

The bus finally arrives at St. James' Park after three hours, staff exits first. I grab my heavy bag, slinging it around my arm. I look around, hearing some New Castle fans booing our team. Football, it really gets the most grown men act like absolute children.

The match doesn't start the best way possible, with Trent receiving a yellow card for throwing the ball away after getting fouled. He literally slides off the pitch, making the Liverpool supporters go crazy, it did look like it hurt, but he seems to be alright.

A couple minutes later New Castle manages to score after Antony Gordon succeeds in getting past our defenders, the stadium erupting in cheers, setting Liverpool back 0-1 twenty-five minutes in.

Then New Castle gets their foot on the ball again, going into full attack mode, the ball is passed to Gordon again with Virgil right behind him and boom, Virgil making him fall straight on to the grass as his leg gets caught in Gordon's. I stand up from my chair in the medical room, arms folded due to nerves.

And thats a red. I see Virgil stand there in disbelief, I mutter some cuss words under my breath as I see the Liverpool players and Klopp try to change the referees mind. Though, their efforts seem to be in vain as Virgil starts visibly getting angry. Klopp trying to get him of the pitch and through the tunnel, before he gets even more furious.

I crack open my door, seeing him walk towards the locker rooms, he looks absolutely pissed. I leave him to cool off for now, before I go up him.

I watch Luis get subbed of for Joe, hopefully Liverpool will still manage to win with one man down.

I walk out of the medical room five minutes before half time. Knocking on the locking room door, as I wait for him to tell me to enter.

He yells a quick "come in" before I pull down the door handle. I'm greeted by a- shirtless Virgil, he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"y/n?" I clear my throat, it's not like I hadn't seen him shirtless before during quick check ups in my office or in the gym, but this felt a little- different.

I walk up to him, sitting next to him. "Hey, just wanted to check on you. You're okay right? Any discomfort or pain?" He nods his head as if trying to reassure me. "I'm fine doctor, just a little mad right now." I give him an awkward smile. "Oh yeah- you did look really mad." We chuckle amongst each other, my hands reaching up the pat his shoulder. "You'll be fine. Trust me the guys will win this." I give him a wink before standing up to leave, feeling his eyes linger on me. Half time break would start any minute and I had wait for Dr. Woods and Davis in the medical room.

Half time break finishes, players were fine and Klopp gave them a good pep talk before they went out to the pitch again. I cross my fingers as I watch the screen in the medical room. My intense focus is interrupted my a knock in my door, yelling a "yes" as the door opens revealing Virgil, now dressed in black training clothes.

"Can I sit with you? Locker room is lonely." I laugh at his remark before urging him to sit next to me. We continue watching the match, discussing it as we go.

Darwin is finally subbed in, and before we new it he passes the New Castle defenders. Scoring a beautiful goal.

We stand up from our seats, jumping in happiness as he grabs onto my wrist happily, cheering. We settle down finally, one more goal, and we would win this.

As the 90 minutes start ticking an extra five minutes of time is added, making us both sit on the edge of our seats. Then the ball is passed to Darwin in the same manner again, we gasp, this might be it.

Of course the ball lands in the left corner of the goal. We jump up again, Virgil’s tall frame engulfing me in a suffocating hug as we both bounce from happiness. "Told you they'd win!" I yell, he doesn't pull back, as we stand there to witness the players celebrating. I clear my throat, motioning him to let go. What if someone walked in and got the wrong idea? "I will continue to trust you words y/n." He makes a funny motion, causing a laugh to leave my lips.

The game ends as we both walk back to greet the players, Virgil greeting them playfully.

They freshen up, and we walk back to the team buses.

I walk into the garage, my hands a little clammy as I grip onto my bag, since the last time I didn't have the best experience walking out alone.

"You alright?" I turn back to see Virg behind me a concerned expression on his face. "I'm fine." I say, focusing back on getting into the bus.

I sit in the back again, Virgil sitting next to me as I try to get comfortable in my seat. I watch everyone get into the bus, leaving as the ride home would get us back quite late.

I put in my earphones, the days events and my sleepless nights making me feel exhausted. I lean my head back, sighing and before I knew it I was out cold.

I'm awoken by someone shaking my shoulder slightly, my head leaning on something. I stir, opening my eyes the see Virgil looking at me softly. I rub my eyes, realizing we're back at the training center.

"You slept really nice huh? My shoulder hurts due to your head." I give him a sheepish smile, muttering a 'sorry' before we both get out of the bus.

I bid everyone goodbye as I walk up to my car. Sighing as I try to wake up fully before I start my car to drive. I'm startled by a knock on my window, jumping slightly before turning to look at the person with a bewildered expression. Of course, it had to be Virgil again, he laughs at my face motioning for me to lower my window.

I start my car and press on the window button, lowering the window fully, before turning my car off again. "What is it?" He tells me to calm down before he asks me if I'm okay. I look at him questionably. "Why are you asking me?"

"You looked a little out of it, you're okay right?"

He asks, a concerned expression on his face.

"I'm fine, I promise. I'll see you tomorrow yeah? Get some rest." He stares at me for a second before wishing me a goodnight. I smile waving as he leaves. Turning on the radio as I drive back home a couple minutes later.

I'm sitting with the guys in the canteen as we're all eating lunch. They've been discussing yesterdays game since the morning with a lot of enthusiasm. Everyone still praising Darwin for his performance. 

He tries to downplay it, trying to tell everyone it was a team effort. I stop him immediately, pulling out my phone to show him an edit I stumbled across on my phone. "Look, they call it a Darwin Núñez masterclass." I say, trying to speak my best Spanish possible.

He watches my screen intently, before giving me a shy but happy smile. Making the table erupt in praises again as they take a peek at the edit.

"You know these edits are fun to watch!" One of them says as they start talking about fan edits. "They do give me an ego boost, can't lie." I snort at Trent's comment, trying cover it up with a cough. "What? Can't do that now?"

I hold myself back from laughing again, reassuring his love for edits. "You can I'm sorry. Enjoy watching your edits as you please."

I'm sat in my office chair, humming a song as I update the progress reports. I sigh, these will always be exhausting to update one by one.

I check the time, ten more minutes till I'm off. I hurry up a little making sure every detail is typed in neatly and clearly. A knock taking me out of my concentration as I save the reports.

"Come in!" I yell, packing my bag as the door is opened. I look up, it's Virgil. Damn, we had been seeing each other a lot lately.

"What's up?" I ask raising a brow. "Nothing just wanted to ask something. "What is it?"

I grab my jacket holding it against my arm as I grab my bag as well. Walking up to him, and looking up at him. "Do you remember when I promised you dinner when I hurt your nose?"

My eyes flicker into his, right he did promise that. "Yeah, I do why?" Is he asking me out right now?

"I thought you could come over to mines tomorrow, for dinner. I wanted to take you out but you know I didn't want you to be harassed by people recognizing me-" I ponder for a second before agreeing. "What time?" I ask. "At seven. Is that alright?" I nod at him as he bids me goodbye and leaves my office. Was this a date? No- he's making it up to me. That's it.

I get home, freshening up and making dinner before I call my girlfriends. I had to ask them what they thought. I call them, positioning my phone against a flower vase as I take a bite of my food.

"He wants you sooo bad, trust me. You know I'm an expert at this." Priya yells into her phone, I watch her expression intently. "She right y/n, guys don't do stuff like this to girls they don't fancy." Jul chimes in. I sigh, opening my mouth to speak. "He said he's just making up it to me though? How could it be anything else?"

"Sweet sweet y/n, don't act innocent we know you like him too~" I hear Monet say. A blush spreads on my cheeks at her words, trying to suppress the urge to laugh nervously for some reason. "No no no, I don't like him come onnn-" they start teasing me before Liz interrupts. "It's at his house, so what will you wear?"

I freeze mid bite, my eyes widening slightly. "I haven't thought of that yet." I swallow my food down as they urge me to show them my options. I place my dishes in the dishwasher before walking over to my closet, pulling out potential options as they force me to put on and model every single one, acting like they were on Americas next top model.

We all end up agreeing on a simple casual dress, it was in his house so no need to get fully dressed up. Besides, it isn't even a date!!

I jump into my bed and for the first time in a while I manage to drift off to sleep peacefully.

[emeowwww-blog]

Fyolai ~ Shortfic + oneshot "I think I can love you"

This is the first writing thing I have ever posted here ._.

im sorry i wrote this in 30 mins it makes absolutely no sense UwU

No NSFW (Sadge /j) BUT some TWs apply: Mentions of past trauma, mentions of gore, mentions of death.

WC: 1833 (Ik its short im sorrryyyyyyy)

THERE WILL BE SOME RUSSIAN IN THIS STORY BC I LITERALLY CAN'T WRITE FYOLAI W/ OUT USING MY LANGUAGE (I HC them using both formal and familiar "you" so shhhhhhh) Just trust that it isn't that important to the story translate it if u want~

"I think I can love you."

~

‘Love’ was a word that Fyodor didn’t understand. It was overused. The Greeks had some greater idea of love, with words for different types. As for now, present day, love could be used for anything from appreciation, to desire, to lust, to joy. Love, the emotion, was perhaps the hardest to understand. Fyodor had never felt love for another person. His mother always told him how much ‘love’ she felt for his father. He heard teenagers talking about loving this boy, or this girl. Love was not an emotion he was capable of feeling. 

It had been this way for decades. No matter how many people claimed to love him, he turned them all away. Looking back, there was one person he had accepted into his life. 

One person who he allowed himself to befriend.

But that wasn’t love. That was tolerance.

Loving Nikolai Gogol was not a possibility in the slightest.

“Dos-kunnnnnnn~” Nikolai whined over his shoulder. “Stop pacing!”

“Вы сука- quiet, Nikolai.” Fyodor waved the man’s words away. “I’m thinking.”

“But it’s midnight!”

“And this is exactly why I was hesitant to share a room with you.”

Second of course is that he would likely kill me in my sleep…

Death at least seemed like an upgrade from life. Nikolai had expressed his urge to kill Fyodor before. It wouldn’t be long before he attempted again.

“Fine then. I’ll sing myself to sleep~”

“No-”

‘Спи, младенец мой прекрасный,

Баюшки-баю.

Тихо смотрит месяц ясный

В колыбель твою.

Стану сказывать я сказки,

Песенку спою;

Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки,

Баюшки-баю.’

“Stop it.”

Nikolai continued his odd rendition of Cossack.

По камням струится Терек,

Плещет мутный вал;

Злой чечен ползет на берег,

Точит свой кинжал;

Но отец твой старый воин,

Закален в бою:

Спи, малютка, будь спокоен,

Баюшки-баю~

He ended his song on a long note, slightly changing the meaning of the sound. Nikolai’s voice wasn’t exactly professional, but it was soothing. More soothing than Fyodor would have liked it to be.

The Cossack was one of the only memories from his childhood. Its notes were seared into his brain, along with the voice of his mother singing it every night. She would say, ‘Спи, федецчка, будь спокоен, Баюшки-баю.’ for the last line, a smile on her face.

That smile was now gone. 

The new grin he saw every day belonged to a man. A man dressed in white and black with multicolored eyes.

“Dos-kunnnnnnnnnnnnnnn~ come to bed nowwww~”

“Not after that, clown.”

“Come onnnn, you know you love me~”

For some reason, the joke broke his stoic demeanor.

“Like I could ever love someone, let alone you!”

The night was spent restless, memories of that desecrated church, the worshippers coughing up blood, Fyodor standing at the altar with a face lacking emotion. They deserved to die, and yet he still had horrific dreams about it every night. Dreams where Nikolai was in the crowd, where the blood covering his well-worn ushanka was not his, but that of the boy in white. 

In these dreams, Nikolai was the only person left standing, crimson dripping from his nose, mouth, and eyes. He would smile, and say something. The words were always unintelligible, his throat filling with blood. 

Crime and Punishment didn’t only affect the criminal like its name suggested. Anybody who ingested the poison flowing through the veins of Fyodor Dostoyevsky could be brought down with a wave of a hand. Including the people he cared for. 

Today, the dreams changed.

He sat in the first pew, carefully counting and recounting the 33 buttons on the Priest’s coat. Likely made of pure gold. The eyes of the worshippers around him were glazed over, their minds lost and withered to a spell. Everything was methodical and repeated. 

Like usual, Fyodor opened the bible in front of him to recite along with the Priest. 

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

The same line. Romans 8:38-39. At the same time as usual, Holy Communion was announced. Fyodor stood up and volunteered to help. A single drop of his blood was added to the wine chalice. The wine and bread was passed around.

Once the Priest drank, Fyodor activated his ability, standing behind the altar. A shriek rang out from the back pew, and people began to clutch their throats as blood poured from their lips. The man beside him coughed up the foul red liquid. The plan had succeeded, yet Fyodor felt no joy. There was no happiness or sadness from killing. It was simply meant to be.

A boy stumbled out from the dark space behind the pews. A boy dressed in white, with multicolored eyes. Blood dripped from his face and onto the floor. 

“Nikolai?” Fyodor asked, horror seeping into his expression.

Nikolai smiled, crimson welling up like tears. Or maybe they were tears, stained red. They ran down his cheeks from his eyes. He appeared to be crying.

“What did you do? Did you take the poison?” The dark haired boy ran down the steps, clutching his wooden cross. 

Nikolai nodded. 

“No.” Fyodor grabbed Nikolai’s hands, shaking them, “You didn’t.”

Nikolai smiled again. But this time, instead of failing to speak his final words, they escaped from his throat.

“I love you Fedya. I always will.”

Fyodor awoke to moonlight streaming across the floor upon which he laid. He had refused to share the only bed in the room with Nikolai after his outburst. Why the inn couldn’t supply them with a double room, he didn’t know. His anger was silly. The word love shouldn’t trigger such a reaction out of a grown man. It shouldn’t be a product of his nightmares. 

And yet here he was, trembling from a dream already fading away. The voice of child-Nikolai echoing in his ears. 

I love you Fedya, I always will.

How tempted he was to say he loved him back. A temptation that he had never felt an inkling of before. Did the dream change because of what Nikolai had said just before he fell asleep? No. He wasn’t able to love. He wasn’t able to love Nikolai, and he never would. His longing was an illusion. An illusion where the only cure was denial. 

Denial led to spending the rest of the night lying awake on the floor until the first light. His eyes closed, the glow from the sun placating his nightmares.

“Dos-kun? Wake up~ you’re shivering.”

Nikolai hovered over Fyodor’s half-conscious form, waving his hand in front of his eyes.

“Are you sick?” He pressed his fingers to the man’s forehead, murmuring at the heat spreading into the tips, through his gloves. “Seems so.”

“Nnnnhh… stop…” Fyodor whispered. He didn’t get sick, yet it was hard to deny the lethargy that spread through his joints as he lay on the floor. “I’m not sick… Nikolai-”

“Shhhhh.” The white clothed man swiped the pad of his thumb across the other’s lips, effectively silencing the feeble protests. “Let me care for you.” 

Nikolai was acting rather differently from usual, but Fyodor was much too exhausted to question it. Placing a damp cloth on his forehead after transporting him to the single bed, Nikolai rested his hand on the other’s. 

Warm and cold, yin and yang. Their hands fit like they were made for eachother. And as Fyodor drifted in and out of sleep, his grip on the other became tighter. 

“Don’t let go of me.”

Nikolai’s face contorted in surprise, but he sat back down nevertheless. Fyodor was his reason for living, and making him feel comforted and happy was his ultimate goal. The only thing left was to get Fyodor to tell him he loved him. He must love him. He had to. Nikolai loved him, so why wouldn’t Fyodor love him back? Wasn’t that how it worked? It seemed that way on the television. If the main female loved the main male, then he loved her back automatically. Female and male…

Fyodor slept through the day, mumbling odd prayers and lines from the bible in his delirium. Nikolai couldn’t pick out many words, as he seemed to be reverting back to his northern Russian dialect, softer spoken.

Until he recognized one:

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Followed by a name:

“Don’t die, Kolya”

No. Fyodor claimed he had forgotten that. Claimed he had left the event in the past. He gripped the sick man’s hand tighter, willing their skin to meld together, to switch bodies and end his suffering. Nikolai knew the nightmares personally. If Fyodor, his Fedya, was still experiencing them now, how long had they been plaguing him?

“Fedya, wake up” The man tried to shake the other awake. “Please wake up. Nothing will hurt you. I’m here.”

No response.

“Please. I promise I'm here. I’m not dead.”

One word left Fyodor’s lips, “...Что?”

The language of their childhood that they rarely spoke in conversation anymore. They used it to talk in secret, not uttering more than a few words. Occasionally to annoy the other (Nikolai’s singing). But never personally, too many memories surfaced.

The song.

It elicited a reaction before, but would it work again?

“Я здесь, Федя. Я здесь”

‘Спи, младенец мой прекрасный,

Баюшки-баю.

Тихо смотрит месяц ясный

В колыбель твою.

Стану сказывать я сказки,

Песенку спою;

Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки,

Баюшки-баю.’

His voice broke slightly when he saw Fyodor’s eyes flutter.

По камням струится Терек,

Плещет мутный вал;

Злой чечен ползет на берег,

Точит свой кинжал;

Но отец твой старый воин,

Закален в бою:

“Колыа?” Fyodor whispered.

Finally:

Спи, малютка, будь спокоен,

Баюшки-баю~

Nikolai smiled genuinely at the sick man in his lap, “Все кончено. Я здесь. И я-”

“Вы что?”

“Мне так жаль. Я чертовски сильно люблю тебя, и мне так жаль, что я заставил тебя это сделать. Я причинил тебе боль и-”

“Вы любите меня?”

Oh fuck. He did not mean to say that, “...Да.”

“Oh god.” Back to English.

“What?”

“Kolya. I think I love you too. I think I can love you.” He hiccupped as a sob broke from his throat, “Don’t leave me, I don’t want you to die.”

Nikolai didn’t know whether this was delusion from illness or serious, but he allowed himself to hope. A single tear escaped his eyelashes and fell onto Fyodor’s chest, right on top of his heart.

“Are you serious?”

“... Yes. Fuck, I’m not sick.” tears continued to flow down his cheeks.

Nikolai cried too, “You are.”

“Don’t leave me again… please”

“I won’t. Never again.”

[jade-green-butterfly]

Today...is a very special and important day for me, folks~💝😊Three years ago, a certain special troll became the highlight of my 2020 during rough times and immediately won my heart from the moment I knew he would have his own destiny and journey to find others like him...and his family. Since the first Trolls movie, I have always admired dearly him from afar and the moment I saw him during the Trolls World Tour trailer, my heart literally poured out him and I have truly loved him for just being his wonderful, lovable self ever since~💘🥹 And that certain special troll, is none other than Cooper~💗🌈✨

I have always been a big fan of him and he’s always been my favourite troll to begin with but every time I see him and hear him, my heart always beats so much for him, making it aflutter and words cannot describe how special he is to me...how he means the whole world to me~💞🌈💗🌈💞I mean...can you blame me? >//w//`< How could I resist and say no to such an adorable face to go with such a darling like him??💖😍💖😍💖Cooper is more than just the goofball that we all know and love...he’s my goofball and so much more...the most amazing troll with such talent, a unique voice and a dazzling yet loving royal family to go with him...Cooper is also the prince of my heart, who deserves all the love and happiness in the world...and I feel so blessed to be the one to give it all to him, along with my heart~🥰💝💝🥰 April 24th 2020 was the day I drew Cooper for the very first time, and when I started shipping myself with him. And together, him and I have remained strong and inseparable ever since!🫶💕We’ve had such happy memories together - becoming part of his world and family, sharing one another’s lives and music, even officially marrying and creating our own dear little life together~✨💜💗💚 And I wish to keep on loving Cooper forevermore~💓😊 Which is why I dedicate this very special piece above (with a textless version too) to us, inspired by a cute Trolls book called ‘Sweet Dance Party’, a lovely heartfelt scene from the movie, Sing 2 and their version of our newest song addition to Coossy’s OTP song list (and one of my classic faves) - ‘I Say A Little Prayer For You’. And I also took part with my piece in my dear @x-elyssa-x’s colour challenge, who I deeply and gratefully thank for helping bring my beloved OTP to life, along with KaitlinEXE, @gloryraiin, @dagdasgoddess, @groovinyeen, @asa-de-ouro, @queenabstract, @zoey-nillesen​, @angoraram and many more for all the beautiful commissions, gift art and loving support you have given me over the past three years, and for putting all your fantastic work and effort, and heart and soul into every single one which I absolutely love to this very day~💞🌟💙💜💚 I can’t thank you all and the rest of the Trolls Fandom enough for how amazing and welcoming you’ve all been to me when I first jumped onto the bandwagon, and I am so happy I did too! 💖🤗Thank-you all so much for everything, including all the dear friends I’ve made and all the loving supporters I have gained - bless you all and don’t stop being awesome~!✌✨💕 And finally, thank-you ever so much for everything, Cooper...my cupcake king and sweet jellybean~💘👑🫂For always being there for me, making me feel such love and happiness I never could imagine~💝🥰🌈 I am truly blessed and the luckiest lass alive to such a wonderful darling like you in my life and by my side~💗😇 U///w///U

🎊💜♓💗♎💚🎉~Happy 3rd Anniversary, Cooper...my beloved prince, my one & only...I love you so much with all my heart, more than life itself...and I will keep on loving you so, forevermore and beyond~🎉💜♓💗♎💚🎊

*~Reblogs are also deeply appreciated as well, so please do reblog as well as like! Thank-you kindly!~*

Cooper (c) DreamWorks Trolls/DreamWorks Animation

Trollsona Jussy/Justina Butterfly (c) @jade-green-butterfly​ (Me~!)

[asahicore]

get to know me game !!!

omg i love things like these cz any opportunity to talk about myself is a good opportunity !! thx for the tag @ozymandia-s i was reading thru ur answers like it was the morning paper, i'll tag @bbujiikseu and @ethereal-engene if u guys wanna do it <33

birthday: dec 13

favourite colour: purple-ish like lavender 

do you have pets? yaaaaah i have a white cat who's evil but also really cute and a dog named elbow

how tall are you? 160-2 cm i'm not sure

how many pairs of shoes do you own? a bunch but i mostly wear my platform docs, my beige platform converse, my black regular super old and beat-up converse or my knee-high brown boots that i got at a thrift shop for such a good price

favourite song: this is like the most impossible question everrrr but invu by taeyeon was my most listened to song in 2022 and i still levitate whenever i listen to it

favourite movie: twilighttt the girls who get it get it but i have lots of movies i love

who would be your ideal partner? my 2 most important things r someone who makes me laugh but also finds me funny and someone with good communication. i dont really care about stuff like sharing hobbies or styles or whatever but as long as we can have a good time doing whatever i'm in love (my ex...)

do you want children?  yessss not now for sure but in a few years like 2 or 3 i think

have you gotten in trouble with the law? i dont think so..?

what colour socks are you wearing? rn they're black

favourite type of music: kpop... 97 of my 101 most listened to songs were girl group kpop lmaooo but just pop in general

how many pillows do you sleep with? 2 !!!

what position do you sleep in? i try to sleep on my back but being on my tummy with one leg up is so much comfier

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping: people who snore like i'm not a particularly light sleeper but it wakes me up immediately and keeps me from falling asleep

what do you have for breakfast: coffee most of the time but earl grey sometimes, i dont usually eat breakfast but if i'm feeling hungry i'll have a fruit or something. i'll also have a pastry at the uni café if i really cant wait until lunch to eat lmaoo

have you ever tried archery? i dont think i have but it looks cool

favourite fruit: lately i've been obsessed w physallis but that shit is expensiveee. otherwise i'd say mango and cherries

are you a good liar? nooo u can see it right away if i'm lying i get so tense and if i'm lying just to take the piss out of someone then i can only keep it for like 10 seconds cause 1 i start laughing and 2 i feel bad for making someone believe something untrue lmaoo

what’s your personality type? enfp i think?

innie or outie? (it really depends on my mood but i'm usually an outie i think, i just need a day in the week to really relax on my own) i’ve been informed this is about the belly button… well it’s innie then… why do u wanna know that about me tho

left handed or right handed? right handed. left handed ppl freak me out...

favourite food: it is so impossible to choose a fav meal but i'll say tiramisu cz its my fav dessert

favourite foreign food: sushi ig

am i clean or messy? i'd say clean

most used phrase:  i have no idea probably whatever stupid phrase i've coined as mine for the week

how long does it take for you to get ready: not too long cause in the morning i basically just make my bed, wash my face, brush my teeth, get dressed and do my makeup.. but if i decide to have coffee at home or to read before leaving then it can take a while

do you talk to yourself? all the damn time bro i was actually tripping over the fact that you can hear a voice in your head without actually speaking just the other day i think its so weird but im thankful for my inner monologue.. shes a queen

do you sing to yourself? if theres music i'll sing along but i dont usually just sing out loud randomly

are you a good singer?  no lmaooooo but i love singing badly and my friends and i go to karaoke every week which is super fun

biggest fear? this is weird but my legs being wobbly like not havign control over them, so like when you're on those inflatable games or when the ground is slippery.. hate that

are you a gossip? yes lmaooo but only when theres reason to be

do you like long or short hair? ive been growing out my hair and its slayinngggggg but on other ppl idc

favourite school subject: i think french (not as a second language but as a french person studying french at a french school lmao) and english lit

extrovert or introvert: extrovert, like im sociable but also if you're a strange man dont talk to me

what makes you nervous: university deadlines also the amount of books in the world i'll never be able to read </3

who was your first real crush? i think when in like 4th grade i had a crush on this guy named matt, but ive had plennnttyyyy of crushes since then

how many piercings? eight and they're all on my ears !

how many tattoos? 0 but im debating getting one

how fast can you run? not fast lmaoo

what colour is your hair? dark brown

what colour are your eyes? dark brown

what makes you angry: misogyny <3 i had to watch this video of a debate between pro-choicers and pro-lifers.. i was gonna explode listening to the pro-lifers' arguments they're so fucking stupid man

do you like your name? its very unoriginal lol but i dont mind it, also my middle name is my grandma's which is genevieve and i think it slays

do you want a boy or a girl as a child? one of both tbh

what are your strengths? hmmm i think i'm fairly reasonable? like when i have an outburst (and i have a lot of those) after some time i'm able to calm myself down and reason with myself so usually im able to stay somewhat level-headed lol i also don't wallow, i get back on my feet pretty quickly and my friends have told me i'm generous :)

what are your weaknesses? this might sound like the opposite of what i just said lmaoo but i overthink too damn much and i jsut cry all the time like everything pains me but then at the same time im able to get out of that mindset quickly.. so idk bruh

what is the colour of your bedspread? i have like 3 houses but the one i currently am at is my uni dorm and the bedspreads are either white and grey or green/blue/pink and they're both floral patterns

colour of your room: at my moms and here they're white but at my dads they're a light greyish brown

this was fun and took me forever lmaooo good way of procrastinating tbh

[a-wild-things-rambles]

umm word vomit and crazed analysis of johnny cash’s american recordings and what the songs mean to me. cw: my major issues with my father and in the last paragraph mentions of alcoholism and a mention of not eating/being able to eat, also no spellcheck

im currently listening to my folk/country playlist, and i forgot how much i love singing along w johnny cash, its instant gender euphoria because i can sing so low, and i always forget how much i love singing, like not just mumbling along, but fully standing properly and breathing properly and belting out the songs, it reminds me that im skilled at things, and i love my singing voice, and how it says so much about the music i love,

ive been listening to his cover of wayfaring stranger on loop, it reminds me of traveling with my father to see my nana after my grandfathers death. it also makes me think of journys, of returning home, its a common folk song to cover, and i love every one, but the best version to me is the firepitcolective, authough johnys is my favrout to sing along to.

johnny cash is an important artis to me, cash- american recordings, is one of my most integral albums, to who i am today, i listeded to woddie guthrie when i was even younger, but i could remeber cash, even now.

the beast in me is my fathers song, and now mine. i loved it, and sung along, but as i grew it gaind a reverence, i dared not sing it aloud, dare not seek it out, for it was a reminder of an open wound, and the dark refection in the mirror i wanted to avoid become at all costs.

drive on,,, is the first song i can remeber learning when i sat down with my guitar, with my fathers 'the little black book of johnny cash' that i stole from him, the courus i can play with my eyes closed, but i leave them open when i scream out the lyrics. its the first one i play when i open it, it speaks of loss and things not matering, people not understanding, to just shrug things off and 'drive on'

oh bury me not (introduction: a cowboys prayer) this taught me god. i will always say that i think my issues with the church stemed from this being my main expernce with god and belief. this is what it should be. its a prayer i direct to no god, but to the forces that exist. its,, pure. hopeful, abashed not ashamed. this is the good god. the god hidden far from churches. the holy in each of us. oh buery me not.. it haunts me i am the boy i am the digger i am the lone prarie.

bird on a wire,, 'i have tried in my way to be free' 'i have torn everyone who reaches out for me' i dont know if i can put how i feel into words. im crying now, its asking for forgivenss, its trying to eb free, its lashing out but trying not to. i cannot sing this withough a tremble. 'ill make it all up to thee' is,,, fuck its so mutch

let the train blow the whistle is the song i want playing at my funeral. its bittersweet, nostalgia, coming to terms, its the calm of acseptance

like a soilder,,, recover, looking back, the third bit "thee are nights" too "spoils of victory is you" its a prayer, and a memory, a the truth od me

an interlude here, cash iften talks of a 'you' this could be god or a lover. i always imagended it as my best friend. someone who loves me. they are all that matters now, not the faces i wish to forget. but my best friedn is now another face i wish to forget. i cannot continue this thought. im sorry

redemtion is similar to a cowboys prayer. it has much god and i like it despite. its fire and brimstone. i whould love to sing it in a churh. but it holds nothing i can lable. just nebulus meanings, i feel i may have stripped it of meaning. i may have

thirteen. i have known id have to talk about this, but my bracing isent enough. it is insepertable from me sitting on the floor i slept on in my fathers house, listing to it on loop and weaping, an empty stomach clouding my thoughts, as my father drank himself away downstairs. it holds the tragedy of my youth. thirteen is probrably the song thet means the most. no thats not quite the right word. it holds the most meaning, associations and history. its painfull. if i listed issues i associated with it i whold never stop "never had me a name, they just gave me the number when i was young" alenation. and later transsnes. my disconect "born to bring toruble to wherever im at" i am a curse upon my family, upon my friends. the first tatoo i wanted was a number 13 tatooed on my neck. i still think of getting it. "long line of heartache i carry it well" i was always told i managed well "list of lives ive broken reach from here to hell" "i pray you dont look at me i pray i dont look back" i dont know what to write anymore. thank you for reading. im sorry.

[astaroth1357]

How the Brothers Would Try to Corrupt MC w/ Their Sin

I have a headcanon that it's part of demonic nature to try and corrupt humans. Though I think it would be unlikely that the brothers would try to intentionally corrupt MC post-pact, it's still like second nature to them. That means they may try to unintentionally, uh… infect their soul with sin and drag them down into eternal damnation! They don't mean it, but be careful MCs of the world.

Lucifer

One of the hardest things to do can be to make others take pride in themselves… but Lucifer is always ready for a challenge.

The name of the game is praise. The human mind can be easy to manipulate so with enough praise even the most stubborn human will start to believe a drop of their own hype.

Building up pride is a steady thing... He'll usually pick a strength or talent of the MC to give high praise. Perhaps they sing beautifully or they're rather clever, don't worry. He'd let them know.

Light sprinkles of praise steadily increase their self-esteem, which may seem nice and almost healthy at first, but in truth he's laying a trap… He knows how effective his words can be and he's just waiting for them to go to the MC's head.

You think then he would be done right? Oh no. That's not the fun part. What's fun is to then offend that pride he's spent so long building.

He thinks it's cute, really. A small comment here or a little condensation there and they'll get so mad. It's just so amusing!

Of course, he can't take what he dishes, so they'll need to watch out. But don't worry he loves them, even if they're just a little too fun to play with…

Mammon

Since when does the Avatar of Greed give gifts?

Really, that should be the MC's first red flag. Mammon isn't known for generosity, so when he's spending what little money he can hold onto on them, it's time to raise some eyebrows.

It may seem nice, almost sweet, when he manages to track down a rare vintage of wine for them or take them out to a ritzy restaurant for the night but unfortunately it's all just part of the plan…

Nobody has tastes higher than Mammon. He can't afford them most of the time, which leads to compromises, but given all the Grim in the world he'd be living in the lap of luxury - which is exactly the kind of lifestyle he wants the MC to crave too.

Anyone, no matter how modest, can give into temptation. How easy would it be to taste the sweetest wine or enjoy the most wonderful trip then want to do it again? It may seem innocent at first, but piling on the finer things can soon have the MC craving for them when they pass.

Then all Mammon needs is to make little promises, "If I make it big this time, then we'll go to France!" or, "If I win this next hand then I'll buy ya another glass." 

So how many times will the MC give Mammon a pass, then? Will they stop questioning how he comes up with his cash? Will they let him gamble just that "little bit" longer? Will they even join him...?

If they keep getting that taste of luxury, then maybe it's not so bad… right?

Leviathan 

You think the easiest way to get the MC jealous would be to flirt with other people since that's how most people go about it but, uh… 

This is Levi we're talking about. Casual flirting is pretty much out of the question.

So what is a demon to do to get their hapless human jealous? The answer is, be patient.

No one's perfect, humans especially! They'll slip up eventually… 

Maybe someone from back home just got a new car or they're sending out marriage invites. 

Maybe they have a friend who's better than them at school or sports or there's just someone who has something they want: Money, talent, looks, followers, friends, you name it. When they see it, he can feel that envy creeping in…

From there, all he has to do is feed it. Let the world poke at their little insecurities for him while he plays the supportive boyfriend!

"Did Mammon really get the promotion? I thought it would have been you! That's so unfair..."

"Satan beat your scores again? What is this, the third time? Doesn't that suck?"

Small little comments… but all with a goal to fill the MC with toxicity...

"Are Asmo videos still doing better than yours? I think I know how to drop his numbers... if you want."

And soon enough, anyone can be an enemy. Everyone has it better than them… so they push the world away in order to feel better. And they become so toxic, the world rejects them in turn...

Except, of course, for their loving boyfriend, Levi.

Satan

If you want to keep someone mad, it's best if you're not the actual one doing it.

I know, it sounds counterintuitive, but turning yourself into the enemy risks the target cutting you out. Satan knows this, so he'll never enrage the MC directly...

But indirectly? There's a start.

Everybody has little pet peevs. Tiny things that aren't important, but dig under the skin nonetheless.

Breadcrumbs in the butter, gum-smacking, toe-tapping, tones of voice, or just little annoying inconveniences that can sour one's day...

Satan is well-versed in these tiny annoyances, he'd dare say they're in his domain. And, perspective that he is, he'll know what frustrates the MC soon enough.

Then it's just a matter of execution.

Maybe he jacks with their toothpaste tube or "conveniently" forgets where they put their books... Or they keep mysteriously finding fingerprints on their game disks or seemingly can't keep their room organized to save their life!

It may just seem like the world hates them... but really it's just their demonic lover.

These tiny details and little mishaps will just build and build like cracks in their foundation until it all breaks and comes crashing down… and he'll be right there egging on every moment of it!

Asmodeus 

You would think that Asmo would have the easiest time tempting the MC into his sin, but that's not so.

Sure, most traditional definitions of Lust begin and end at carnal desire, but what about those MCs who maybe aren't so drawn to the sins of the flesh? Fear not! Because the keyword for Asmo is desire.

Really, Asmo is happy if the MC's mind is full of nothing but him. He wants them to desire him, to love him obviously, but to the point of obsession. His heated kisses and sensual whispers are only means to that end, which can change whenever he needs.

The MC will have their life bombarded by their beautiful demon. It's not an unwelcome smothering, he's among the best boyfriends they could ever hope to have, which is exactly why he’s so effective!

He wants them to need him at every moment. Soon it will feel weird to go places alone without their demon… Certain things they could do themselves, like their hair or getting dressed, they'll want him to do instead.

Of course, if he's able then he'll certainly seduce them as well and at every chance he gets! From the House to RAD and even in the throne room - he's shameless!... But that's the fun, isn't it?

Beelzebub 

Oh Beel… He's probably the most dangerous one of them all. Not because he's so demonic, but because he's so sweet!

When Beel makes food for the MC or orders them an extra side, he does so with love. He just wants them to be full! ...or so he thinks.

Beel's demonic instincts creep up on even him, he's just not one to really question what or why he does things sometimes. He'll know he has the urge to see the MC eat or just be indulgent… but he won’t know why.

You could actually say it works to his advantage. Whenever he offers the MC another turkey leg or a few more bites of cake, his tenderhearted insistence is often so sweet that they'll just go along with it and try to keep eating… even if they're already full.

Now, the human body can only take so much food at once, but over time it can adapt to changing habits.

Eventually, the MC will find their appetite expanding to catch up… They'll stop feeling full as easily as they used to and soon the bigger portions that Beel gives them will be all but a necessity!

Of course, the worst case scenario is that this doesn't happen at all and they do serious harm to their health by always pushing past their limits… but there's no guarantee Beel's solution won't just be more food anyway.

Belphegor 

Belphie is the only brother who will knowingly (and gleefully) try to make the MC as sinful as he is!

It's all for selfish reasons. If the MC is slothful, then they'll want to go out less and (probably) spend time with him more. Win-win if you're Belphie.

Since he's well aware of what he's doing, he's pretty damn effective at it. No other brother will be as committed to meddling with the MC as he is.

He'll convince them to cancel plans or sabotage their alarms so they oversleep. He'll suddenly be unable to sleep without them while his naps seemingly get longer and longer… And if they have something to do, he'll be the voice in their ear saying it can wait!

Really, at any opportunity he can get Belphie will try to drag them down or slow their progress with the sweet, sweet promise of relaxation or a good time...

Sure, it may sound nice at the time - great even! - but it won't take long for their promises to break or deadlines to pile up… Sure, the MC could try to catch up but wouldn't that be too much work? Wouldn't they rather rest instead? Why even worry about it?

It's a seductive line of thought and Belphie sells it well, it'd take only the most motivated MC to resist his charms but like that'd stop him. If he wants the MC for himself, he'll happily put their life on hold to do so. Just go with it... yeah?

[finelinevogue]

Just wanted to say 2 things:

1)Love the fic where he proposed over a cup of tea…so sweet💗

2) we all know how H has asthma sometimes so…could u write something w/the reader helping him with an attack idk or during an interview/concert/family gathering do as u pls

A nice day

XOXO

firstly, thank you so much that’s so sweet of you <33 and secondly, um yes i would love to give this a go at writing for you! hope you enjoy;

Harry couldn’t breathe.

He was in a panic, completely terrified of the uncontrollable situation. He was having an asthma attack concocted with a panic attack and it was brutal.

“Shit,” Jeff whispered as he watched Harry breathe heavily and loudly on the floor. His friend was currently on his hands and knees trying to gasp for air, whilst dressed in his notorious Fine Line outfit.

It was the big night. The one night only at The Forum for the release of his new album Fine Line, hence the costume. He had been nervous all day, with shaking hands and a tendency to forget simple things. You had been with him all day; having a slow brunch together out in the Hollywood Hills and then just chilling around for the afternoon. You didn’t want to anything to strain his voice, so talking hadn’t been an option. That left you either to sleeping and cuddling, whilst watching a movie, or sex. Now you were all for sex, but Harry complained that he liked talking to you during it and so that got shut down pretty quickly. You didn’t forget what he whispered to your ear though just before you cuddled into watching Bambi;

“Keep your moans for later, you’ll be fucking needing them for what I have planned.”

But that was over two hours ago now. Harry had been whisked away to start getting ready, what with hair and makeup first. You’d left him to it, telling him you would just lounge around and wait for him. It was when he was getting into costume had you announced you were just going to go down the street to get some coffee from Dunkin’ - seeing as there were few of them back in England, where you most commonly lived with Harry. The problem was you hadn’t come back yet, and it was an hour later.

“Harry mate, you need to calm down.” Kid Harpoon told him carefully, kneeling down next to his good friend. Nothing was working though and Harry was too breathless to ask anyone for his inhaler.

It had started by thinking about how nervous he actually was for tonight. It was such a huge show and one of a kind too. He was playing his new album and it wasn’t even 24 hours old yet. There was so much pressure weighing him down that he couldn’t breathe - he was suffocating in the anxiety of his own mind and he couldn’t escape at all. Then because he was in so much of a panic his asthma hit him and added another reason to his breathlessness. It was finally made worst when he realised you weren’t by his side to help him. You weren’t there to quickly eliminate the asthma and focus on helping him overcome the panic attack, instead he had his mates surrounding him - crowding him - and they didn’t know the first thing to do.

“Sarah, where’s Y/N?” Mitch shouted, making Harry squint the thought away. He didn’t want to think about how something back might’ve happened or might be happening to you. Where were you? Sarah’s response did no better to help him.

“I don’t know.”

“Harry bud. Talk to us.” Jeff spoke, crouched down in front of him. Harry shook his head, tears running from his eyes as he began crying. The sobs were really harsh and embarrassing. The tears were heavy and mixed with snot running from his nose to pool on the floor below him. He was not doing well at all, coughing when the asthma choked him up. He couldn’t do this. He felt like he was in a small box and it was only getting smaller. He felt as if he were going to die. Genuinely.

“Does he look like he can talk, dickward.” Adam’s voice came from the other side of Harry, messing his head up even more. There was so many voices and he couldn’t focus on just one, but he didn’t want to. He wanted yours. He needed yours. You.

Whenever this has happened before he was always luckily in the comfort of his home, or the tour bus and always with you. So this was unfamiliar and terrifying. He was beginning to think you’d left him or you’d gotten seriously hurt, but he couldn’t do anything to help. He was stuck - paralysed to this position as his lungs collapsed in on themselves and his brain sped the same speed as a train. You were his comfort person and it was only ever you that he wanted in situations like these. Just you.

“Move out of my way. Move!” Harry thought he heard you and your voice, but he hated that his mind could be playing tricks on him in desperation for what, or whom, he truly wanted.

He felt someone crash on the floor in front of him and the almighty smell of lavender and soap hit him all at once. This time, he was glad to have someone sit so close to him, because it was you.

“Harry look at me, hey, hey. You’re okay. Look at me bubs.” You spoke calmly, trying not to sound panicked yourself, even if you were heavily worried. You watched as he looked up at you, eyes ridiculously red and puffy whilst his nose was dripping like a leaking tap. You wanted to rub his tears away and dab away the snot, but your main priority was on his breathing first. “Okay good, okay.”

Your hand went into your bag and picked out his inhaler. You shook it a few times, before putting it into Harry’s mouth. “On three, one, two, three…” Harry tried is best to breathe in and you pushed down on the canister. “Good, bubs, really good. Okay again, one, two, three…” You repeated and then a third time until you could tell that the wheezing of his asthma attack had disappeared.

“T-than…” Harry tried to mumble out, but couldnt because he was still in panic and his throat was so dry.

“Sshh you’re okay.” You turned to one of the crew members and asked for them to fetch you a bottle of water. You asked people to clear out of the room and leave you with Harry for a bit, knowing he wouldn’t settle in front of all these people. You sat on the floor, crossed legged, and brought Harry to lay his head in your lap with his body trailing behind. You offered him one of your hands to squeeze if he wanted to, which he appreciated, cupping both of his around yours. Your other hand laid to stroke through his gelled hair - that would no doubt have to be redone now.

Instead of going straight into talking to him, you sang his favourite lullaby to him in aid of calming him down. It always worked, or at least helped a little. You sang quietly, noticing the beat of his heart soften with every line you sung. You were by no means a professional singer like him, but he liked the way it was so imperfect and mellow. It calmed him to hear something so simple and so you. Whilst you sang the crew never came back with your requested water and you thanked them, before you were the only ones left in the room.

After you finished singing you noticed how calm Harry was, almost still - the complete opposite to how he’d been all of 10 minutes ago. It was amazing what the power of you could do to him.

“What colour are we feeling?” You and Harry had created your own little system by which you would let each other know how you’re feeling by a colour of the rainbow. You’d designated a meaning to all of them that only you two could understand and used them on the days when you weren’t feeling great, to help understand each other’s feelings better.

“The whole bloody rainbow.” Harry mumbled out and you passed the water around so he could take a few sips, to which he thanked you graciously for.

“Oi, you can’t have that as your answer.” It was a rule that you could only use one colour to some your most intense emotion in that moment, otherwise there was kind of no point to the system.

“But it’s true. I feel grey with confusion, blue with sadness, purple with frustration, yellow with fear and even light yellow with cowardice. Yet I feel pink with happiness and light red with love.”

“What about red red?” You teased, not being able to help yourself.

“What? Lust? Always, for you that is.” You leant down to kiss his head as he cracked a joke, showing you that your Harry was still there beneath all this worry.

“Tell me what the colours represent in real life.”

“Purple because I am frustrated that I had to have a panic attack right before the biggest show of my career. Yellow because I am frightened that nobody will like the album and it will be a complete fail of a night. Grey because I can’t choose one colour and focus on it. I.. I—”

You could tell he getting himself worked up again, so cut him short. “Bubs stop, you’re okay. Listen to me.” You tucked his hair behind his ear as if to open it up for him to hear better. “Don’t ever be frustrated with yourself for something like this. You are allowed to have moments of weakness; you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. Did this compromise your show? No. Did this show off how strong and brave you are? Yes. That’s what is important, therefore we can swap purple for dark yellow because you were brave. Which means yellow can also turn to dark yellow because you are so brave for doing something so huge and so wonderful. People already love the album H. Can’t get enough of it. Everyone will sing along to every word, I can promise you that. Or at least I will. You are amazing, so never undersell yourself. That’s important to me and for you. Bubs, you are so amazing for what you’re doing here tonight and I couldn’t be prouder of you. Yes, a panic attack isn’t nice and it isn’t convenient, but it just helps show how much you care about tonight and it going a success. That must count for something.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit and that was okay. He was most likely getting his thoughts together and mentally preparing himself for the greatest night of his life. You bent your body over so you could hug him, since his back was to your front, and just give him a squeeze to reiterate how proud you are of him.

“Y/N.” Harry spoke quietly, as your body encased his. You embraced his warmth and inhaled the beautiful scent that he was wearing. He both smelt and looked phenomenal.

“Yes bubs.”

“You know I love you right?” Of course you did, but it still made your heart flutter as crazy as the first time he said it to when he tells you now.

“I do.”

“And you know you’re it for me right?”

“Well.. I—” You didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself.

“Because you are.” Harry turned himself around, making you sit up so he could move. He was lying with his head facing upwards now, face looking less red and puffy, and staring right into the souls of your eyes. He looked magical. Beautiful. He thought the same of you. “And,” he moved his fingers to take off his S ring from Gucci, that probably cost more than your annual salary, and place it onto your ring finger of your right hand, “I give you this as a promise to share my last name with you someday.”

Seeing the initial of his last name sat on the finger opposite to the one he claimed he would one day put two more rings on, brought you to tears. “Harry…” You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless. You had never expected for him to do something as monumental as this and had never experienced it before to know how to react.

Of course you’d always dreamt of marrying him and being his for eternity, but never thought of it possibly becoming your reality. Now, Harry was completely devoting himself to you and only you and it suddenly all felt like the dream was settling in place.

“I swear to you Y/N, i’ll love you until the next lifetime and i’ll find you again. I love you so much, I can’t even tell you how much because it is so infinite. You’re so kind and patient with me and you see me for me, not for the Harry Styles, just Harry. I’ll never let a day pass without you on my mind and I think it’s because you were always meant to be mine. My heart is yours.” He smiled once he noticed you were crying, moving one of his hands up to wipe the tears away.

“How do I top that?” You whispered to him, but mostly to yourself. Both of you laughed.

“Just tell me you love me.”

“I do. I do love you Harry.” You nodded and then he sealed your confirmation with a kiss to his lips. You rested your hand upon his cheek, placing the coolness of the S ring upon his cheekbone, as he placed his hand under your chin to guide you into the kiss. He tasted divine and you smiled knowing that you got to have him like this, taste him like this, for the rest of your beating hearts’ days.

[idamariaw]

A one-shot where you meet a british man, a bit clumsy for his own good sometimes but at least it brought him to you.

This is dedicated to @atlafan, Happy Birthday 🌸

The air was humid, warm and had a strong scent of your favourite jasmin bodywash as you carefully stepped out of the bathtub to continue to get ready for your date tonight. A date that you’ve been looking forward to all week and made it way easier to get through classes and exams, even though you didn’t know much about Harry yet. That was his name, Harry Styles.

You met him just over a month ago in the coffee shop near your apartment where you spend most off your afternoons to study or read, the earthy and warm environment having a calming effect and the staff always sweet. You were reading an article for your course in political science, Stevie Nicks ’Wild Heart’ playing with your notes and books neatly in a pile by your side as eveything sudden flew to the ground with a large thud. It startled you a bit and you took your headphones off to register what caused the mess while you heard a voice beneeth you along your dropped belongings,

”Shit! I-i’m so sorry. My guitar bag got stuck in the corner of your books, I really didn’t mean to.”

A mop of chocolate curls cought your eyes while speaking to you with his deep voice and keeping to apologize even though it didn’t matter, you knew it was an accident. After picking up your things he got up to his feet and you got the oppurtunity to really look at him now. Tall, broad build at the shoulders, skinny jeans with a button up in different patterns, curls to his chin and the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen.

”I’m so fuckin’ clumsy, first time at this coffee shop and this happens.” Now you noticed he had an accent, a british one? Well if your cheeks weren’t burning before they sure were now.

”Oh no it’s okay! I promise. Accidents happen, i’m pretty clumsy myself so you’re not alone. I was getting zoned out on my work anyway so you helped me with that” You said with a smile to reasure you’re not irritated or anything.

”Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but your muffin got on the ground as well. Let me buy you another please?” He furrowed his eyebrows a bit and pouted his heartshaped lips and you just couldn’t say no.

”Oh and I’m Harry by the way, Harry Styles.”

After that you asked him to sit down with you and tried to give him a good impression of the shop although it’s caotic beggining. You learned that he actually was brittish, was majoring in English Literature, wrote music and sang covers with his band.

You met him every now and then the following weeks and after sharing a carrot cake with a latte a few days ago he finally got the courage to ask you what you thought about for weeks,

”Would you be willing to see me outside this coffee shop for dinner on Friday? Please?”

And here you were, freshly out the bath and in your closet looking for an outfit. It was early autumn and Harry said he’d pick you up at 6, so a leo printed long skirt and a sage green knitted sweather along with maroon converse and a bamboo knitted purse with some jewelry would work. A pretty little matching lace bralette and panties underneath just in case things would go that way. Just as you put on a layer of your strawberry flavoured lip gloss you heard the doorbell ring and your heart skipped a beat. You looked over yourself once more before getting your purse and rushed to the door.

There he stood, so good looking it almost made you angry, with his signature black skinny jeans, a black button up, brown boots, a tan coat and hair up in a bun.

”Hello darling, I’m sorry if i’m a tad early. These are for you by the way.” He came in for a hug and kissed your cheek as he handed you a bouquet of red roses and you got a chance to take in his strongly scented perfume that consumed your senses.

”No I was just ready so it’s okay! Wow thank you, i’ve never gotten flowers before. I’m just gonna put these in a vase and I’ll be right with you.” He furrowed his eyebrows a bit as he leaned against the treeshold.

”Really? Hm I’ll remember that then. I’ll just wait by the car, we’re going for a drive about 20 minutes away if that’s okay. Take your time darling.”

As said, he waited by the car and opened the door for you on the passenger side and then you were on you way.

”Can I have a guess at where we’re going? Dinner somewhere maybe?” You asked even though you didn’t really have any but you’ve always loved surprises and he didn’t even know that.

”Well you can guess darling but i’m not sure you’re gonna figure it out that easy. But yes, we will have dinner in a way.” He answered you with a crooked smirk, showcasting his dimples.

After the 20 minute drive he parked by a black steele double gate leading the way to something you were quite familiar with but haven’t visited in ages.

”The botanical garden?” You asked surprised while Harry opened the door for you to step out.

”Yeah, is that alright with you? I figured as you like the atmosphere at the coffee shop so much this could be nice.” He said a bit shyly.

”Are you kidding me? Ofcourse I love it, I used to be here as a kid with my parents a lot but haven’t been in ages!”

”Thank god, I got nervous there for a second. I’m just gonna get some things in the car but you can start walking up and I’ll meet you at the front.” He said as he started to pick some things out from the back.

You felt giddy and excited as you approach the building and started to walk up to the front like Harry told you. It was when you came to the entrance that you noticed it’s closed and locked. Did Harry know this? Then you felt a hand at the small of your back and the smell of his perfume announced his presens as you turned around and what you saw made you melt to a puddle inside. The guitarbag was secured aganist his back and in his arms he held a picnic basket with a blanket and filled with all kind of goods.

”An evening picnic at the botanical garden with some live music, can’t go wrong with that can we?” He said with a cheeky shrug even though you could sense the nerves in his eyes.

”Seriously? That’s so nice Harry, oh my god. It’s to much to be honest. But how do we get in? And is it even aloud?” You didn’t want to doubt him or his plans but you couldn’t help it as it was actually closed.

”Hm don’t need to doubt me darling. I know the owners son as I helped him with a poem analysis in our class so he owned me a favour.” He explanied as he fished up the key in his coatpocket and opened the door with ease.

The setting and environment was everything you remembered from when you were younger and visited this place, green and thriving plants and vegetation everywhere, even a little pond in the middle with a fountain. The ceiling was made of pure glass so you could clearly see the sky that began to darken and stars starting to shine through, it was breathtaking.

”I was thinking we could set up and get up these stairs close to the roof to we get the best view.” You heard Harry speak up as he lead the way up to a white spiral stair that got you to a spot near the roof to spread out everything and sit comfortably.

He really didn’t spare anything on the food or drink, a nice rosé wine, fruits and berries of all kinds and a fancy charcuterie board.

”Harry I hope you know that you didn’t really need to do so much for our date, a romcom with a burger and fries would have been just as nice. But I really appriciate this, thank you so much.” So said honestly because it was true, just being with him was more than enough.

”Thank you for being honest darling but it’s not to much. You deserve the effort and I want to show you how important this is for me, how important you are for me. Feed me a strawberry please? And do you have any song requests?” He said as he brought up the guitar from its bag.

”Maybe ’Leather and Lace’ by Stevie Nicks if you know that one?” You asked softly as you brought the strawberry to his pouty heartshaped lips and your throat got a bit dry when he hummed against the fruit as he took a bite.

”Mmh, thank you darling. And yes I know that one, a pretty big Stevie fan myself actually.”

He said as he started to play the strings on the guitar, the melody started to fill the garden and softly singing the lyrics made everything complete. It was almost like the man in front of you couldn’t be real with how perfect he looked.

”You’ve been staring at my lips quite a lot this evening.”He said taking out of your trance and making you blush down your neck.

”W-what? Oh i’m sorry Harry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” You started to explain yourself but he cut you off quickly,

”Shh, no darling it didn’t make me uncomforable at all. Come here please.” He made grabby hands at you as you sat opposite to him on the blanket so you could come up to his lap.

”I promise you it didn’t. I’ve been looking at you too you know, so beautiful today it makes my heart ache. So happy and thankful, proper cuite you are. Must have the sweetest mouth to. Would you let me have a taste?” He said as his fingers came to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and lips almost touching yours.

”Yes Harry please.” You almost whimpered against his mouth until you felt his lips softly pressing aganist yours. You shifted in his lap to wrap your fingers in the nape of his neck below the bun to deepen the kiss, Harry leaning back to take a breath.

”Tastes like strawberrys darling, gonna give me a toothache with this sweet mouth of yours.”

You continued to kiss for a while and as he moved down to your neck he felt you shift against him more and he got the courage to lay you down on the blanket and hover over you to get better acess to the rest of you.

”Can I take this off? Or will you be cold?” He asked while playing with the hem of your sweather.

”No I want it off please, I won’t be cold.” You barely finished the sentence before the sweather was off and Harry started to kiss from you neck down to the crease of your breasts.

”Smells like flowers darling, and so soft. Perfect tits you have.” His raspy voice sent a shudder down your core the same time as he carefully touched your breasts and started to kiss them through your lacy bralette.

”What’s this hm? A fuckin nipple piercing? Almost as if you’re tryin to kill me, fuck.” Oh yeah, you almost forgot about that one in your right nipple and he sucked and nipped at it as a man obsessed.

Being teased and played with for so long now made you whimper again and you tried to buck your hips into him for more friction now as you started to ache from your lower region.

Harry noticed this and made the decision to use this against his favor.

”Do you want my mouth somewhere else darling? Seems like your aching pretty bad. Or fingers maybe? Need you to talk to me.”

”Yes please, I want your mouth on me so bad. Please Harry.” If you weren’t so worked up you would feel embarassed for your neediness but you just couldn’t care right now.

”So polite, ofcourse I’ll give it to you. Anything you want, you’ll have. Can I take the skirt off?”

You nodded quickly and he got down so he was facing your core and budged up the skirt around your hips. He kissed your mound over your panties and looked up at you with a cheeky smirk.

”Matching knickers, hm? You’re flattering me darling, being so pretty for me.”

”I-i was just being hopeful…” You let out a breathy laugh at his observation feeling the blush creeping to your cheeks again.

”I was to if i’m being honest but I didn’t want to push you into anything, i’m so thankful that you let me see you like this but I really want to take these of as pretty as they may be and taste you properly. Smells so fuckin’ good I’m going insane.” He took the panties of and let out a low growl while spreading you open with his fingers and see how you were glistening from the wetness under the starlight. Going in for a long stripe with his tounge from your slit to your swollen nub, sucking and nibbling at it just the right way to make you give out a loud shaky moan. He continued playing with your clit with his tounge and lapping up all the sweetness he could get while he felt your legs starting to shake against his head and your moans only got louder.

”Making such pretty noices for me darling, keep going. Need to know that I make you feel good. Want my fingers as well while I play with your clit? Already so swollen for me.”

”Yes fuck i’m gonna cum soon, please Harry I want your fingers please…”It was all you could say before you felt two of his fingers press against your slit and tounge going back to your clit. Your hands found his hair and he let put a growl against you as you tugged on it harder than you intendent, small strais of hair coming out from the bun.

”You can cum darling, I’ve got you. Being so good for me and letting go like this. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had, so so fucking good for me. Let me have it, please.” He continued to thrust his fingers as he said his dirty words and that sent you off the edge and gave you the most intense orgasm of your life. Small tears rolled down your cheeks and Harry kissed your inner thighs to help you come down. He licked his fingers clean and covered you again with the skirt, going up to face you and kiss your lips.

”Mmh, hi pretty girl. Felt good?” He asked nuzzling against your nose and stroking your cheek.

”Oh my god, yes. You’re literally perfect Harry, thank you.” You closed your eyes and cuddled into his side as he laid beside you looking up to the stars against the glass ceiling.

”No I’m not darling but thank you. What do you say about cleaning up and head over to mine, watch a movie and I can make you a cuppa? Sounds good?” He asked you before whispering quitly to himself ”And thank god for me being a clumsy fool.”

[timextoxhajima]

The Boyz as things and feelings (just cause)

this is a small thing @haechanhues​ needed help with so i decided to make it an actual post uwu [this is gonna be pretty long cause i might write little scenarios]

[THE BOYZ AS THINGS AND FEELINGS]

SANGYEON - MIRRORS AND PILLOWS

mirrors make a place look bigger than it really is - i feel like sangyeon has that ability to make you feel like you’re more important on your worst days

the things he’ll do just to make sure you’re alright, even when he knows you’re not

he also has the ability to reflect what you need: sad? he’ll come and hug you and let you cry or talk about your shitty day. happy? he’ll joke about the way you snort while laughing then he’d probably do something dumb to keep the energy up there

mirrors also feel very private and at-home, and that exactly how i feel he curates an environment

pillows are self-explanatory ig, smth to cry into, smth to fall asleep with while hugging, has the best homely scents ever, very comfortable

i imagine going home after a long day and finding your partner also tired, but he’s cooking or like in the couch watching tv and he just invites you into his arms uwu

“tell me about everything! whatever that makes you happy or sad and i’ll try my best to be who you need at that point of time!”

JACOB - FLOWERS AND MUSIC

ok like jacob with a guitar is just a stellar sight to behold, he looks like he was born to hold one, and his vocals are super underrated imo, most of tbz’s discography doesnt really suit his voice - i really wish he had a chance to have more lines in more ballads or maybe even a solo thing

he would drag you out to go on walks after he knows you’ve buried yourself in your work the whole day, and he’d be the kind to stop at a pretty flower and contemplate plucking it but he wouldn’t cause he’s a fairy and wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less a pretty flower

would probably play a piece in the background while you’re stressed w work and hum a tune so the singing wouldn’t distract you

would stop when he notices you stopped working and your sad ass is probably crying lmao

he’s a very soft and gentle man imo

he’s the innocent daisy amidst other bright colored, flamboyant flowers but he still stands out

“i’ll grow you a rose bush in the yard so i don’t have to be sad about plucking flowers next time.”

YOUNGHOON - WINTER COATS AND COFFEE AND PASTRIES

he definitely radiates tsundere vibes on first sight, but when you get to know him, he’s obviously the opposite: a crybaby

but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep up his model-like appearances when he’s outside - in fact, he’d be the one to influence you into caring more about how you look (of course not materialistically, but more into actually caring about making yourself feel good with your fashion and appearance)

i chose winter coats as a symbol of coverage - he doesn’t show much of himself unless he’s close to you (like when you wear winter coats to keep warm, he’s a burrito because he doesn’t bother too much about sharing his feelings), but when he does, it feels like he has the ability to keep you warm and comfortable, even on the coldest days, even if his inner savage comes out

it’ll be like he scooped you into his coat and has you warm in one of this inner breast pockets

i see him as the kind to get regular coffee and like, a tart or something, at a cafe. it adds on to the warmth, when he remembers what you like. the details. maybe you like your coffee with cinnamon or less sugar or something, but then he tops it up with a muffin and he knows you like it heated up so he specifically asks for them to do so

ok but he’s defo the kind of guy that catches people’s attention at public spaces so every now and then when he’s laughing or smiling, some girl would gawk at him and he would be embarrassed about it, but lucky for you, you’re already wearing matching coats so they know the man’s taken uwu

“if only they knew how long it took to convince you to wear that coat.”

HYUNJAE - CONCERTS AND CONVENIENCE STORE DATES

classy but calm. dream-like but realistic. 

i say concerts as in the instrumental, ballad kinds. he loves it and he knows you probably need the sleep where you have that kind of background white noise/music that provides you the best quality of sleep there is. but when you’re not dosing off, he’s admiring how much time you’re willing to invest into being at something he loves

of course, in turn, he doesn’t complain much when you’re hungry and you meet him down the street at the nearest convenience store for some instant noodles and potato chips with a coke and he lets you ramble about your day 

he would probably buy you an ice cream just so you’d feel better, then regret it when you get a stomachache later cause it was like 2am in the morning

you probably have like 5 of his hoodies at home that you refuse to wash cause his scent is tainted all over it and the only time he gets to take them home is when he stays over or visits and he sneaks one into his bag when you’re in the kitchen making tea or a bowl of noodles

then you’ll get it back without even knowing it was gone

the kind that would probably surprise you after a day of work with a casual date idea to the movies, and i mean showing up at your place, impromptu, after he knows you’re home with two tickets 

“act like my girlfriend for once and go on a date with me, would you? your work isn’t going to be there with you when you die at 90.”

JUYEON - STARGAZING AND VR GAMES

as dumb and sometimes bimbotic as he seems he is, he’s gotten most of the visible constellations memorised and he would not hesitate from telling you all about his childhood with his family when they would travel and try to spot every single constellation they can remember

which brings me to the point where he remembers what you like, but... backhandedly. he doesn’t remember what you like but he remembers what you hate instead, so you don’t ever have to worry about getting that licorice flavoured jelly bean

he would offer a midnight walk to help you relieve your stress, cause he knows you just like seeing the nightsky amidst the peace and quiet while he rambles on for his own satisfaction. not everything has to be so emotionally attached and shared. you can share blissful moments without being the reason for each other’s and that’s totally fine.

juyeon is kind of a scaredy cat in the sense that he isn’t really into horror movies or games but he’s always had that dream to become a pilot and so for his birthday, you brought him to a vr game arcade where he played some plane simulator and ever since, you’ve been taking turns to surprise each other with a new vr arcade spot or adding on to the vr game console set you have at home

“maybe i should digitalise you so i can see you in the vr game”

KEVIN - KARAOKE SESSIONS AND NEON LIGHTS

the best-friend kind of partner you would come across once in a lifetime

a billion film shots of you after he drags you to the karaoke and he beats you at super intense songs like the bohemian rhapsody just cause he can hit those high notes and solely because he was screaming on the floor when he did it

almost left his film camera behind 

absolutely LOVES those walks along streets where there are a million neon lights

would come across that one sus neon light signs that indicate a sex toy store and he would give you that sly smile and probably joke for you to go in 

kevin has a moon neon light in his room and you have a star or something (whatever you want)

corrects your grammar and pronunciation, only for you two to bicker about it even more when you use google translation and there are different pronunciations depending on where/what accent you’re using

he really is your light in the dark, even if he’s known to be introverted. once he’s comfortable enough with you, he makes you feel like the most important person in the world

has one of those portable speaker microphones at home and he drones on and on and on with some billie eilish song until you hurl a pillow at him

“so you’re the tough girl, like it really rough girl, justcan’tgetenoughofkevingirl, chest always so puffed girl”

CHANHEE - DUETS AND STRAWBERRY PICKING

(i could not find a more candid, softer aesthetic pic for chanhee rip)

his entire wardrobe fits you - the only problem is that he’ll never let you wear it in fear that you’d stain or tear something

shared playlists because that’s how similar your taste in music is, and so sometimes when you have your earpiece in and you’re humming the melody of that song, chanhee picks it up immediately despite not hearing that song, and ends up harmonising with you

got kicked out of the library once or twice because it was exam period and the two of you won’t shut up

ironically doesn’t sing that much if you’re not around

chanhee is a true blue introvert - which is a miracle that you’ve managed to tear through that barrier of his and find out that he giggles at every stupid thing you do: he’s having a bad day? trip over the pavement. he’ll laugh. it works

dragging him out to go strawberry picking was so difficult - but of course chanhee isn’t safe from how beautiful and enticing the fresh fruits were.

didn’t touch anything strawberry flavoured OR any strawberries for the next month or so

his straightforwardness comes with the breakdown of his barrier - but that’s what brings you comfort. he will never lie, he will only be sarcastic and even then, you’d know it’s true

i used duets as a symbol of harmony and being in-sync, though never really exactly the same, and that’s how it is with chanhee. your thoughts are very similar even though he’s much more introverted than you, but that’s what binds you 

“i’m gonna tell the librarian i don’t know you if we get kicked out again.”

CHANGMIN - CITY TOURS AND MATCHING OUTFITS

city tours - the kind that you already know inside out and yet you STILL travel the area as if you were a tourist 

that’s exactly how it is with changmin: you know him inside out, after being friends for so long, but it never gets old

you’re used to him biting your hand out of nowhere and yet it startles you all the time. that stupid chucky doll in his living room? old, but it never fails to scare you

he doesn’t ever talk about it that much, but he loves it when you co-ordinate outfits

no, it doesn’t mean you wear couple tees, but it’s aesthetically pleasing to changmin that if he wears cool tones, you would too

he’d be reserved about his thoughts and feelings sometimes but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think or feel them

there’s a strange sense of familiarity with changmin, because you kind of know what to expect but then you’re never disappointed, you know?

“i got you this white pigeon cause it looks like the one i already got... you can give it back to me if you don’t like it though-” /he takes it before you can accept it/

HAKNYEON - STAND UP COMEDY SHOWS AND RUNNING ALONG THE BEACH

there’s something about ju that makes it very casual and easy-going

he hates horror genred themes so fuck that, he would queue online just for the latest ali wong comedy show, even if it’s an online show, and he would laugh until he cried

sometimes he’s a drama queen but that makes it alot easier for you to know what he’s thinking or feeling - it makes communication alot easier

that means a lack of arguments

he’s also very empathetic but straightforward, exactly like how comedy shows are - because they are relatable, they are funny because they bring out the irony and sarcasm and all the dumb things in life that people are sometimes afraid of talking about and hak just says whatever he wants to say, even if he knows it might be hurtful or upsetting

he prioritises truth and honesty over anything else

it makes you a better person, honestly

beach walks - very calming, very liberating. he lets you yell and scream and kick sand back into the water because you can, and he does it with you

tries to teach you how to skip rocks but you suck and you can’t so he just pulls you away from the pile of rocks you amassed

“flick your wrist like that, not like you’re meowing!”

SUNWOO - SOCCER FRIENDLIES AND STUDIO SESSIONS

he will NOT go easy on you in a friendly match: you might be one of the fastest players of the female team but he’s ruthless in his ball-stealing, so even if you were fast enough to keep the ball out of his reach, he’d still be able to snatch it right out between your feet

very, very competitive and does not like to lose

you would always play the ‘ladies first’ card but then he’d throw the ‘feminism’ card back at you 

sometimes you act more like siblings than anything else 

the only time when he isn’t fuming with competition is if you’re injured because he accidentally tackled you - he’ll gracefully give himself a yellow card before absolutely trashing you in the next match

has one foot into the production game recently - likes to play with the beat board and mixing tunes, and since you’ve had your hand in doing music remixes for a deejay job before, you’re there to identify which songs have the same bass line or beat counts for easier mixing

would make you a playlist of remixes but wouldn’t admit that he spent a whole day in the studio without you just so it would be a surprise

a soft boy stuck in the wraps of an egoistic man

“a day? please. i illegally downloaded half these remixes off the internet cause i’d think you’re too internet-dumb to find them.”

ERIC - BAKING AND SKATEBOARDING

full of impromptu, casual ideas to hang out 

baking is a fucking mess - why did he suggest it when he doesn’t even have the right ingredients?

wanted to replace eggs with water - like ok thats supposedly healthier, but why????????????

he likes cleaning so that was the only fucking bonus in baking - had to call his mom for help halfway through because the cookies looked more like goop than playdough

gave up in the end and he repaid his debt by helping clean your kitchen

tried to teach you how to skateboard, but he ended up falling off his own in the process and now he’s got a grazed knee 

the kind of person you’d have so much chaotic fun with, he’s that friend your mom told you to NOT hang out with that much if not you’d get run down by a car 

has the most fucking random pieces of clothing in his wardrobe, like where did he even get that pink coat from?

“no you have to do this and like lift up your leg and then kinda rest your weight on it before flicking your ankle and like- whOA- OH OW OHNO OHOHOH OW”

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Two: The Arrival

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Death of a parent, nosy neighbors, irritated feelings, lmk if I missed any

W/C: 3.2k

A/N: Welcome back! First of all, I want to thank each & every one of you that read & enjoyed the Ch.1! Your wonderful comments really set it in stone for me to continue this fic & I really hope I don't disappoint! Anyway, I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks of this one! I'm so nervous!

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Chapter One || Chapter Three

~APRIL EIGHTEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

The days passed, the same as they always do, yet with no word on any boy or man willing to spare the help for the farm. You did your best to think rationally; the majority of the families around town were busy with their own affairs, their own shops and farms. It was only you and Pa, and while the majority of the townspeople were friendly, not a soul seemed to spare a second thought towards the two of you, outside of banding together for Ma’s funeral.

You were preparing to give up, once again, the hope that perhaps there was one – at the very least, one – man who would take pity on you and Pa. The more you reassessed the people of the town, the more it appeared they only ‘cared’ when it suited them, when whatever dilemma you and Pa were faced with was the opportunity for them to engage in hearsay.

Mrs. Williams, for example – although kind and respectful while you stood in front of her – immediately took it upon herself to, not only relay the information that help was needed to every man, woman, and child in town, but indefinitely began to spout words of pity regarding you and Pa. Of course, that got the whole of the town babbling about how awful, how unimaginable, it was to have to endure the tedious season by yourselves. Yet, no one desired to lift a pinky to help.

So, as you enter the town, you aren’t stunned when you hear whispers as you pass. It had been a brief few days prior that you had finally been overlooked, finally was not the cause of their speculations. And now, you grit your teeth with disdain and continue walking through, awaiting the moment you reach the haven of the shop and, hopefully, have a moment to collect your thoughts and set them in the icebox to cool.

One positive outcome of it, you gather, if you were to look on the other side of things, is that you have gained the ability to avert your ears from whatever nonsense the older women gossip about, not concerned so much of what they say, just that it was taking place at all.

However, as you make your way down the dirt road, you realize it isn’t just the typical gossip coming from the elderly ladies, and are even more shocked to learn that you are not the subject of the chatter. The whole town is seemingly buzzing like a hive of bumblebees, a hum carried through the air consisting of ‘Did you see him?’, ‘A visitor’, and ‘What a strange man’.

Even you acknowledge that it must be interesting news for the whole town to be churning with such fervor and animation over it. The town, collectively, has never been so excited about anything since the new sheriff was appointed and you find yourself turning your ears to the conversations to see if you hear anything of importance. Once you realize, though, that you're partaking in the exact avocation you so despise when it's directed toward you, the doors close inside your ears once again and you walk straight to the shop.

After you’ve had time to settle and display all the new wares, the bell rings and you hear behind you the whispers of the older ladies filling the atmosphere, conspiring against whatever – or, whomever – has attracted their attention so.

“Hello, dear!” One of them – Mrs. Foster, who is seen as the lead hen – yells out to you. You take a deep breath, summoning the companionable parts within you to the surface.

“Hello Mrs. Foster,” you greet while turning to face the group.

To her side, Mrs. McKenna and Mrs. Jones, along with her young daughter, Lucille. Lucille Jones must be the closest you have to an acquaintance in town, but her mother keeps her quiet and buried under her wing, grooming her to be exactly the respectable young lady that will surely attract a wealthy husband, therefore paying for luxuries his new mother-in-law would not be able to afford otherwise. That poor fool.

“Have you seen the latest traveler, dear?” Mrs. McKenna asks.

“I have not,” you reply simply. Tis the truth, after all, but something about this mysterious traveler, that has caused such an uproar, makes the curiosity seep into the lining of your veins. Though, you would not engage in their gossip just to find out more.

“He is most strange,” Mrs. Jones adds, answering a question you had not asked.

“To each his own,” you say, feeling the irritation at their simple minds grow in your belly.

Before another moment could be spared for this nonsense, you quickly distract them with your latest concoction: a complexion cream made from eggs, cream, oats, and lavender, a soothing blend that would help hide the blemishes on their faces. Not their consciences, unfortunately, but it excites them no less.

~APRIL NINETEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

You awaken before the sun today, the sky is still a dark cobalt and fading into sapphire behind the hills, indicating the orange ball of light will be presenting itself in moments. You sigh, stumped at the sudden feeling in the pit of your core that today will be unlike the others – somehow. You turn over on your other side, away from the window, in search of another wink of sleep. It is futile, and you accept the call for the day to begin.

You step lightly so as to not disturb Pa sleeping just below your floorboards, and begin washing your face, arms, and legs, dressing in your usual skirts, and meticulously perfecting the knot of your hair. You even go as far as braiding the length of it before pinning it around on the back of your head and the sight of it resembles a flower. You hum; a sincere hum of a song your mother used to sing. You ponder why it entered your head in this moment after not having heard it in over a year.

Once the sun begins to peek its rays across the fields, you step down the ladder softly, keeping your eyes to Pa’s bed on the other side of the rails to ensure you haven’t woken him. Only, he isn’t there. His bed is made with care so you know he hasn’t been resting on it for a while. As soon as your boots are planted on the wooden floors, you turn to face the rest of the house. He is nowhere; not in the kitchenette, not sitting at the table, nor sitting in his armchair in the corner of the house.

Confusion strikes you; he has not risen before you since Ma was still here. You grab the lockbox from the safe and your bonnet off the wooden hook in the wall, tying it around your neck and placing the box in your bag, stringing it over your shoulder before stepping outside. There is still a chill in the air from the night and you shiver slightly before cupping your hands around your mouth.

“Pa?!”

You yell into the air, the heat of your breath visible in front of you as you await an answer that doesn’t come. Your eyebrows wrinkle across your forehead, worry beginning to creep into your bloodstream. You walk down the steps from the house and turn towards the fields. As you look across them, the sun shining bright enough now to help your vision, you don’t see his figure anywhere. You walk towards the barn, cupping your hands around your mouth again to repeat your call.

“Here, child!”

You hear the rasp of your father’s voice respond from within the barn. You will your heart to rest from the fright that rushed through your veins, breathing right again knowing your Pa is well. You walk to the doors of the barn, the sun blinding you briefly before entering and you see Pa standing and chatting with a man.

He stands with a confident, yet humble posture, straight brown pants covering tall legs, suspenders attached at the waist and strapped over a bone-white shirt with a black coat resting across broad shoulders. In his hands, he fiddles with a wide brimmed, brown hat that, as you step closer, you can see has small tears & rips along the outer edges. He turns to look in your direction, a soft and friendly smile underneath a neat mustache, hair sparsely adorning his jaw.

“Daughter, this is Mr. Prospect,” Pa introduces.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prospect,” you give a small curtsy and bow your head.

“I assure the pleasure is mine, miss,” he replies, bowing his head. “Your father and I were only just discussing the season you will be faced with here. I am most obliged to be suited enough for work and I am at your service.”

You nod along to his words, finding it difficult to search inside your brain and pull something out of it that may continue the conversation. His voice is rich and decadent, finer than the most luxurious chocolate you might have the pleasure of introducing to the buds on your tongue. It sounds as if it comes from deep within his being as opposed to his throat, and you find it very pleasing to your ears.

“Mr. Prospect here will be our new farmhand for the season. He only just arrived moments before you rose,” Pa continues.

“Forgive me, Pa, I did not hear you wake-”

“Do not fret, little one,” he smiles and places a weathered hand gently on your shoulder and you smile in return. “Daughter, please show our new employee the farm; I have yet to do so, but the chickens need feeding now.”

“Yes, Pa.”

Pa exits the barn with a stomping of his boots as his heavy and tired legs carry him, turning the smile on your face into a small frown. You exhale through your nose and turn to the man, noticing a small tuft of white locks at the beginning of his hairline, fading into a rough cut of shaggy, brown hair. You avert your gaze so as not to be impolite with your stare and look into the mahogany irises of his eyes.

“Well, Mr. Prospect, I do apologize for you having to lodge with the cattle,” you say as you gesture to the black and white beasts resting in their stables.

“It is quite alright, miss. I’m sure they will be most interesting to converse with,” he smiles, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth and his jest pulls a giggle from your throat as you smile.

“Just up there –” you point to the ladder leading to a platform above the cows. “– is a bed of hay. It may stick you, but we will provide plenty of blankets to soothe the irritation and keep you warm.”

His gaze meets the platform, exposing his elongated neck and strong jaw, his profile revealing his aquiline nose and you find your gaze fixated on him once again. What an intriguing man. You realize he must be the new traveler the town was so preoccupied with yesterday, but you find nothing strange about him at all. Quite the opposite. He seems to be the purest and gentlest man that has ever passed through this town. He looks back down to you, the soft, good-natured smile reaching his eyes, the same smile on his face from the moment you met.

“Follow me, please.” You lead him out of the barn and to the fields on the other side and he places his hat back on his head as he walks.

“This is the field the corn will grow, and just on the other side of the barn will be the potatoes. I must divulge that it is quite strenuous. I am thankful to you for accepting the work; it will help my Pa and I tremendously.”

“I respectfully deny your thanks; I’m afraid it is I who should be thankful to you and your father for welcoming me with such friendliness,” he replies and you look up into his eyes. Such beautiful orbs, as brown and majestic as the mountains that surround you, the likes of which you’ve never seen.

“This way,” you say, a light tremble in your voice from momentarily having the ground swept from under your feet. You lead him to the house, stepping up the stairs and opening the door. You take a step inside, but the man does not enter, rather staying still on the porch, fiddling with his hat in his hands once again.

“It is quaint; I’m not sure where you are from, Mr. Prospect. Perhaps you are familiar with more lavish dwellings,” he looks around the room as much as he is able from where he stands and smiles.

“Not in the slightest, dear Sunflower. The home you reside in is lovely and most would be envious to have such to call their own,” he says kindly and you smile genuinely in return, a warmth reaching the apples of your cheeks from his endearment.

“You are welcome to our table for meals and coffee, if you’d like. And we have wash basins you are free to use as well.”

“Many thanks, miss. I am very grateful to have been blessed with hospitality such as this.”

You nod your head, lowering it slightly as you walk out and back onto the porch, the man waiting for you to step down into the dirt before he follows suit. You smooth out your dress and turn to look back at him, his eyes having not left you once.

“What is your name?”

“Ezra,” he replies, reaching his hand out to shake yours. You offer your hand politely and return your name, the greeting between you holding firm, yet gentle; his hand is warm and soft, slightly calloused from farm work.

“Ezra,” you repeat, letting each letter of his name roll from the back of your throat, over your tongue and through your teeth. It was as smooth as the butter you had churned this past monotonous week. “What a unique and beautiful name; very pleasing on the tongue.”

He blushes lightly, a small, shy smile forming on his lips as he averts his gaze to his dirt covered boots.

“Did you see the notice at the post?” You ask, smiling fondly at the bashful man in front of you and he faces you again, nodding his answer. “Yes, I assumed so. There was one at the shop, too, but you had not walked in while I was there.”

“Yes, once I saw the notice and inquired about the position, I spent some time familiarizing myself with the town before heading here to see your father. He had been preoccupied yesterday and requested I return early this morning.”

“That’s strange. He didn’t mention it to me,” you ponder. Then again, it wasn’t unusual for Pa to not trouble you with these affairs until it was time to deal with them. “And you only just arrived yesterday, correct?”

“Yes, miss. To be frank, I am slightly unnerved at the commotion my arrival has stirred; it seems the people here are not accustomed to travelers.”

“Unfortunately, no,” you reply with a contrite look on your face. “I apologize for the welcome not being so friendly. Do not take it to heart. I have grown up here and still feel like an outsider,” you add, the sudden remark escaping you naturally. You have a strange feeling that you may be able to open your mind and thoughts to this man who exudes comfort and compassion. Maybe someday.

“Well, Ezra,” you enunciate again. “I’m afraid I must go now. Pa will have you busy with work in no time, I guarantee. If you ever need anything from me and I am not here, our shop is in town, right after the bank. Please do not hesitate to come by and ask.”

Ezra looks at you again, the tender smile that had budded on his unconventionally attractive face blooming into a full fledged, teeth baring grin. The sight of it makes your heart skip a beat, sparking a dull fire in the furnace within your belly that had long been barren, full of the ashes of any past flame that ceased to exist as quickly as it had lit.

At first glance, it may have been easy to overlook his features, but as you gaze at him before you, it is not difficult to see that he is, in fact, very handsome. You smile in return, adjusting your bonnet to sit atop your head and turning on your heels to walk toward the town.

Of course, the people are still buzzing with the recent arrival of Ezra Prospect. Even worse now, word has reached that he is to be your new farmhand. Mrs. Williams, of course, heard from her husband that Mr. Prospect had shown intrigue in the position, and later that night while they ate dinner, Mr. Williams shared the news with his wife. It truly is doubtful that anyone would be able to survive one, single daybreak without having something or someone to talk about.

The main three hens, Mrs. Foster, Mrs. McKenna, and Mrs. Jones all swarm your personal environment before you even make it inside the shop and they are just about bouncing in their heeled boots, awaiting any sort of information you can give them about Mr. Prospect.

“I hear he’s your new farmhand.”

“Is he as strange as he looks?”

“He seems dangerous; best keep your distance, dear.”

They will not stop; one question rolling into the next from each of their beaks. You have a right mind to lay out some feed on the ground for them so as to keep their mouths busy with other matters. The irritation courses through you, a dull tightness forming at the base of your skull.

“What is his name?”

“Perhaps if he did not feel so unwelcome by the whispers of the town, he may be more inclined to tell you himself,” you say harshly before having a moment to think twice.

They gape at you; the audacity, their expressions seem to say. You don’t seem to care for it, though. To have them whisper about you was one thing; you could manage just fine, however bothersome it is. But Mr. Prospect seemed friendly and gentle enough to make you relinquish any passiveness to these women, unwilling to keep cordial when they’re so unpleasant of anyone new introduced to this town. It’s unusual, this feeling. Protective. Over a man you only spoke to for no more than fifteen minutes.

The women scoff under their breaths, very obviously offended by your response and denial of amusing them. They whisper amongst themselves as they walk away, not trying to hide their second glances at you from over their shoulders as they continue down the road. Surely, the word will spread that you did not wish to speak to them about the traveler, and they will conspire on which hen to send next to continue the digging.

You feel some relief, however, knowing now the conversation will be turned back to you instead of Mr. Prospect. He did not deserve to be treated as such during his stay and you would make sure of that.

Chapter One || Chapter Three

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Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @barbossa2319 @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @ezrasbirdie @danniburgh @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @meesterblack @amandalovess @hunterofartem1s @pedro4ever @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @librariantothejedi @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin

[fluffypeachwriting]

Hihi!! Can I request ramuda finding his s/o drunk bec they miss him// Somethin funny/fluffy :,0 if this doesn't make sense lol just anything w ramuda fluff is okay!! Thank you for your time (●♡∀♡)

I just LOVE sweet and fluffy Ramuda, I hope you enjoy!!  (≧◡≦)

“Ramu…”

It hadn’t even been a week since Ramuda up and left for an ‘important work thingy’, leaving you alone to mope around at home until he got back. When he wasn’t there, everything felt so much quieter, like the air itself wasn’t as sweet. You intended to have a drink or two to occupy yourself before going to bed – everything reminded you of Ramuda, and the fact that he wasn’t there.

“Ramudaaa……”

Every song was one he would sing along to, every show he would either cuddle up with you and watch or make fun of in his special way, every meal was one you wished you could cook together. But what made your heart ache for him even more was that whenever he went on these little ‘outings’, he always came back down in the dumps. To most people he would seem like his usual self, but you were close enough to him to spot the signs of a depressed Ramuda.

“Where are you, Ramu…”

You weren’t awake enough to pick up a gentle “Here!” coming from the front door. Soft footsteps came closer and closer until he found you. When he did, you were slowly spinning in your desk chair while half asleep, mumbling to yourself.

“I’m home…!” He called out to you quietly, not wanting to startle you but also not wanting you to hear the slight laugh in his tone.

“R-Ramuda?!”

Your prayers were finally answered! It was too much of a coincidence, and at first you were inclined to believe that you were missing him so much that the Ramuda in front of you was an illusion, but upon seeing his concerned face (as opposed to his usual peppy smile) you knew for sure that he was really there.

“Ramuda! It’s you!”

You jumped up and tumbled into Ramuda’s front, almost tripping, if it wasn’t for Ramuda’s strong grip – he seemed to have missed you just as much as you had.

“Woah woah woah!” Once he was on stable ground again, Ramuda petted the top of your head as he spoke: “Aha! Did you miss me so so so much ☆?”

You hummed into his shoulder and managed to wrap your arms around him. Finally, Ramuda was home and happy, and you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms and forget that you were ever apart. However, getting that across in your current state wouldn’t be easy.

“Bed… can we sleep? Is that okay?” Despite his small stature, Ramuda was more than warm enough to lull you right to sleep, and with your head close enough to his chest to hear his heartbeat, you probably could have fallen asleep right there and then.

“Of course! I just have to get changed for bed, okay honey?” He kissed your cheek, smiling to himself when he noticed how warm it was, “But we gotta get you sorted out too. Brush your teeth and change into cute jammies and all that, mm hmm ☆?”

Usually his sing-song-y voice would cheer you up but it wasn’t falling asleep in Ramuda’s arms, so you huffed. Still holding onto him, you rocked him back and forth as you thought to yourself, and you hoped he didn’t notice you slowly nudging the two of you closer and closer to the bed.

Sober you would remember that nothing gets past Ramuda but they were not here right now.

“Hey! I said we gotta get ready!”

“Mmmrrghh….”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Ramuda sighed and lifted your head up so he could see the grumpy expression you were hiding, which somehow matched his totally exasperated one. He came to the conclusion that he would have to drag you to the bathroom to get ready for bed: “Come on, sweetie,” he said, in a much more low and dulcet tone than before.

“Mm… I like your deep voice. Calming – when you’re not angry, y’know?” You plodded beside Ramuda as he guided you, “Say stuff more, Ramuda. Nice voice.”

He let out an honest chuckle, completely forgetting about the stress of his trip to Chuuoku, before replying, “I can do that. Anything for you, my dear.”

“Yaaaaay….!”

“It’s gonna be an interesting night, hm?” he poked your face in case you fell asleep on his side, “I’m happy at least one of us will be able to remember this tomorrow.”

“Hm.”

[jackrrabbit]

Unprofessional [pt. 1] /// Yandere Tendou x f!Reader

Summary: The new hire you’re supposed to be training at your office job is a little too attached for his own good…or yours. [Part 2]

A/N: Someone requested yandere Tendou and I was like !!! However when I wrote it, it turned out kinda long so I split it into 2 parts; I’ll answer the req when I post part 2. Anyway I’m obsessed with the concept of salaryman Tendou, please enjoy!

Tags/warnings: yandere, timeskip (Tendou is 22-23 in this), workplace/office setting, liberal use of “senpai”, alcohol, Tendou’s crackhead energy is toned down a little bit because of the setting [In part 2: smut, 18+]

You don’t really like Tendou when you first meet him.

Your first impression when your boss introduces the new employee is that he’s all talk and no substance. He’s been hired fresh out of university, and he’s got the stink of a former frat boy all over him—that baseless enthusiasm, chaotic goodwill and arrogance mixed together. That might have been your type when you were still sucking down cheap keg beer from red solo cups, but you’re two years into your career as a real grown-up adult now, and the cockiness that radiates off Tendou in waves is just…annoying.

Unfortunately, when your boss tells you to take the newbie under your wing, train him, and be his mentor, it’s not a request. It’s a demand. So you decide to suck it up. If you’re going to have to spend every second at the office with Tendou trailing after you like a baby duck, you may as well get used to him.

After a few weeks, you have to admit he’s not that bad. Sure, he’s not the best at respecting personal space, but how can you blame him? When he looms over you to reach for a file above your head for the nth time and traps you between his body and the cabinet, you finally lose your patience and snap at him to give you some space, but he looks so surprised and apologizes so sincerely that you can’t help forgiving him. You feel a little bad, even, when he explains that he’s never worked in an office before so he’s not used to all the rules that he’s expected to follow in a professional environment.

You can’t really fault him for that, especially when you’re the one who’s supposed to be teaching him these things. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything,” you tell him, and he perks up so quickly that you feel even worse for chewing him out in the first place.

The thing is, Tendou doesn’t really stop getting close to you once you chastise him. It just bothers you less. The dozenth time his hand lingers over yours while you’re passing him a document or he picks an invisible thread off your blouse or sits a little too close when you’re riding in the back of a taxi to a client meeting, you start convincing yourself that you’re overreacting. He’s probably not being that much more pushy than your other coworkers—you’re just more aware of him because you don’t know him as well.

And it doesn’t help that he’s tall, towering over you and pretty much everyone else in the office. The cheap suits he cycles through can’t quite conceal the hard lines of muscle underneath—oh, whoops. Now you’re the one crossing boundaries. Tendou is so big that you’re just…more conscious of his presence, right?

This is drilled into you one night after a marathon overtime session when you’re carrying a tall stack of boxes back to the archives. Maybe it’s because you’ve been at work for 11 hours, but the files feel like they’re filled with rocks, not paper. Your muscles are this close to giving out when Tendou appears out of nowhere to pluck the files out of your arms. “Here. Gimme, gimme, I’ll take ‘em.”

The way he carries the heavy boxes so effortlessly makes you kind of embarrassed at how much you’d struggled with them. “You’re pretty strong, hm,” you say absently. Oops, was that inappropriate? You don’t want him thinking you’re hitting on him or something.

“Oh—yeah I guess?” Tendou’s laugh (the one that used to grate on your nerves) sounds like he’s pleased with himself. “I go to the gym a lot.”

“Wish I could find the time. Or the discipline,” you reply as he replaces the file box in the archive room.

“Wow, senpai is calling me disciplined. My heart is pounding.”

His tone is sarcastic enough that you don’t think twice about the second part of his statement. “Don’t get too full of yourself. If you have the energy to go to the gym, you should spend that time double checking your expense reports before you submit them.”

“Ouch.” Tendou holds his hand over his heart in mock betrayal. “Targeting my weak points, how ruthless. But seriously, working out is second nature to me. Been doin it since I was a kid so it doesn’t take any kinda discipline.”

“Oh? Did you play sports or something?”

“Yeah…” Tendou’s voice trails off and when you pause from your task of organizing the files to look up at him, he’s staring directly at you. “…Used to play volleyball. Grade school through college.”

The way he’s looking at you, searching your face for something you can’t identify, makes you think this is more important than it seems. You tip your head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

“Our team in high school was pretty good,” he says slowly.

“That’s cool,” you say, turning back to the paperwork. “Did you ever play Shiratorizawa? They’re my old high school—I think their volleyball team went to nationals back in the day. I was never into sports though.”

A moment passes, and you frown. Did you say something wrong? But just before you’re about to change the subject, Tendou starts laughing. “Shiratorizawa? No, I don’t think I ever played them.”

Your laugh joins his a second late, although you don’t know why he thinks it’s funny in the first place. In the echo of your voices, you can hear how quiet it is in the archives. There’s something here you’re missing, but you’re not sure what.

Luckily enough, the somewhat awkward atmosphere doesn’t carry over to the next day. When you get into the office, Tendou is his usual clingy self, distracting you from your own work to ask you to teach him something and pulling you away when you’re talking to your coworkers so you can double check his emails before he sends them. If anything, he’s more attached than usual—when you go to a contract renewal negotiation with a client he insists on tagging along, so you let him after making him promise not to get in the way.

Of course he doesn’t keep his promise, but you end up appreciating his intrusion more than you could have predicted. The client is stubborn and rude until Tendou chimes in (much to your dismay, at first) with an offer to add on some oddly specific perks to the contract. You’re already practicing your apology speech to the boss in anticipation of losing the client, but to your amazement he agrees to Tendou’s terms and the deal is sealed, along with a healthy bonus for you.

You’re on cloud nine, practically skipping out of the building with Tendou at your side as you fantasize about what you’re going to do with the bonus after you split it with him. A weekend vacation out of the city? An online shopping spree? Some fancy dinners at five-star restaurants? Knowing you, the money will end up going straight to your savings, but you still can’t contain your giddiness. “How did you know he wanted that add-on? Seriously, I had no idea!”

“A guess! I’m good at reading people.” Tendou’s just as elated as you, pumping his fist and whooping like a kid as soon as you’re away from the client’s earshot. “Woohoo! Yay! Our first sale together!”

“A guess? You risked that huge contract on a guess?” You roll your eyes but you’re too excited to be mad at him. “Anyway, you don’t have to say ‘our’ first sale, I know it was all you. I’ll tell the boss you’re doing a good job.”

“No way, it’s ours! Both of us. Me and senpai.” Tendou’s hand reaches down and his fingers lace with yours, squeezing so tight his knuckles go pale.

The thrill of your success flickers as nervousness sets in. Is he holding your hand? “Tendou—“

“Senpaiiiii~” he says in sing-song, swinging your hand as you walk to meet the taxi and ignoring your meek attempts to pull away. “Didn’t I do a good job?”

“Y-Yeah. Good job, Tendou.”

Work friends. The two of you are work friends. Your boss passes all comments to Tendou through you (mostly things about how he’s good with clients and charismatic but needs to stop making minor errors on paperwork). When one of you is sick, your coworkers ask the other to pass on their good wishes. Tendou fits into his role at the office seamlessly, and you can’t say you don’t appreciate the fact that all of his good work is reflecting well on you.

So when his birthday rolls around two months after he’s hired, it’s up to you to plan the office drinking party (only after he complains to you about how he doesn’t have any friends since moving to Tokyo). You have the date you got from Facebook—May 20th—circled in red pen on your private calendar along with a little doodle of a birthday cake.

“What’s that?” asks one of your coworkers, pointing to the circle, as you flip through your agenda a week before the event.

“Tendou’s turning 23,” you tell him. “It’s a Friday, so some of us are going to go to a restaurant and drink a little. You’re coming, right?”

“Oh…yeah.” Your coworker scratches his head and clears his throat. “You guys are pretty close, huh. Um, I actually wanted to ask—you’re not together, are you?”

A chill runs up your spine. “Together? Who said that?” If this rumor gets around to your boss it’ll kill your career. These things always look worse for the woman than for the man. God, it was probably something Tendou said without thinking, he’s always talking about you and someone could easily misinterpret all that praise…

“Well, if you’re dating—“

“We’re not dating,” you say quickly. “We do a lot of work together because I’m training him, but it’s not like that.”

“Really?” Your coworker straightens and smiles. “Cause I was actually thinking of asking if you wanted to go out this weekend—“

“Senpai? Can you help me with this draft?”

Damnit, it’s Tendou getting in the way at the absolute worst time—especially considering he just had to come up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder. Seriously, how many times do you have to tell him to stop doing that when you’re talking to someone else? You’re not sure whether to be irritated at him for cutting your coworker off, concerned that the other man won’t believe what you said about you and Tendou having a strictly professional relationship, or relieved that you don’t have to give an answer to what sounds like an offer for a date.

You cast an apologetic glance at your coworker and make your way over to Tendou’s desk, hoping against hope that the interruption doesn’t look too suspicious. You’d die if word got around to your boss that you were dating your mentee.

///

You’ve got this office drinking party thing down to an art. Step one is to load up on greasy appetizers that’ll increase your alcohol tolerance, step two is to drink plenty of water, and step three is to pour yourself a single drink early and take small sips.

There’s a step four, too: make sure no one else’s glass get’s below the 1/4 mark. Your boss and coworkers are a lot less receptive to how little you’re drinking when they’re all nice and tipsy. It’s a system you’ve perfected over the years, one that allows you to have fun with people from the office without risking making an ass out of yourself or getting a hangover (which, at 25, is a lot more unpleasant than it used to be).

You can’t count the number of times you’ve witnessed the awkward drunken escapades of your fellows, which range from the endearing (your boss crying over how much he loves his wife) to the awkward (coworker makeout sessions) to the potentially criminal (bar fights. So many bar fights). You’re happy to remain a neutral observer, and tonight is no exception.

The only problem is that Tendou hasn’t yet mastered the art of drinking lightly when you’re around people you work with, so now, at the end of his party, he’s (for lack of a better word) trashed. His cheek is mashed flat to the restaurant table like it’s glued there and his head is surrounded by progressive rings of bottles and cans. It’s some kind of miracle that he hasn’t yet gone to the bathroom to get sick.

“Sorry Tendou,” you sigh. “I should have been keeping a better eye on you.” You had no idea he’d get so drunk so quickly. Aren’t tall guys supposed to have high tolerance or something?

“Sssshenpaii,” Tendou slurs, hoisting his head off the table with that looks like Herculean effort. “I liiiike when…when ya look at me…”

“Ha, ha,” you say sarcastically.

Tendou’s head whips around. “Where’d everyone go?”

“They all left—now it’s time for us to go home too. Come on, I’ll help you get to the taxi.” You pay the bill (oof, there goes your petty cash for the week) and pull on Tendou’s shirt sleeve to get him to stand up. Luckily he’s just sober enough to realize what you want him to do and he follows you out to the street with an arm draped over your shoulders to steady his meandering footsteps.

The real trouble comes when the two of you are seated comfortably in the cab and the driver asks for Tendou’s address, which, apparently, he can’t remember. You do the sensible thing and look through his phone, but his own contact card provides no hint to where he lives in Tokyo, only a phone number, email, and address in Sendai which has to be his parents’ house—

Wait.

Tendou’s from Sendai?

You’re from Sendai. You didn’t know he was too. What a coincidence that both of you moved to Tokyo from Sendai. You’ve mentioned your hometown to him a couple times—how come he never told you he’s from the same place? You’re only two years older than him; maybe you’ve run across him in Sendai before the two of you started working together.

Now that you think about it, his face has always been kind of familiar…you thought it was just ‘one of those faces’, but…?

This isn’t the time to wonder, though. You poke Tendou gently in the side, careful not to jar him enough to risk any stomach upset. “Tendou? Do you remember what street you live on?”

After a long pause Tendou names a street, but it’s your company’s address which isn’t located anywhere near a residential district. When you tell him to think harder, he grimaces, lips pulling back to bare his teeth. “Don’ wanna go home…lemme sleep over at senpai’s house.”

“What? You can’t stay at my place.”

“Why noooot? ‘m tired,” he drawls, eyes closing as his head droops onto your shoulder in the back of the cab.

“It’s—it’s inappropriate—wait, no-no-no-no don’t fall asleep,” you tell him desperately but it’s already too late. A light snore filters out of him and you curse. “Tendou—“

“Address?” the cab driver barks insistently, giving you the stink eye in the rearview mirror.

Shit. Well, it is his birthday, you have a pull-out couch, and it’s not like anyone from the office is around to see you going home together. Tomorrow morning you’ll just have to give him a lecture about professional boundaries and make him promise not to breathe a word of this to your boss.

You give your own address to the cab driver. Tendou sleeps peacefully on your shoulder throughout the entire drive, rousing only when you whisper his name in his ear outside your building (which is a miracle, because you know without a doubt that you’re not capable of carrying him). When you get up to your apartment, you deposit him on the sofa bed and tell him not to look through your stuff while you brush your teeth.

Obviously, he doesn’t listen to you. When you emerge from the bathroom, Tendou is standing in the middle of your living room and turning the pages of an old photo album of yours.

“Hey, give me that.” You try to pull it away from him, but he doesn’t let go and his grip is stronger than yours, so the album remains firmly in his hands. “If you’re sober enough to mess with my things, you should go home.”

“This is senpai, right?” Tendou says, pointing to one of the photos.

Despite your exasperation, you lean in to take a look. It’s a picture from high school with you and some friends, all of you wearing your Shiratorizawa uniforms and grinning cheekily at whoever took the picture. Your fingers are cocked up in a peace sign. “Yeah? That’s me.”

“So cute…senpai is really cute…” Tendou’s long finger trails over the edge of your face though the filmy plastic covering the photo.

“Um…you need to get to sleep,” you say nervously, pulling a little harder on the album.

He doesn’t budge, instead just flipping back in the album to older pictures from when you were little until he stops at a photo of you and your younger brother in grade school. Against your better judgement, you frown and look closer to try and pick up whatever caught his interest in this particular image.

“How old…?” he asks.

“I don’t know, 10 or 11 maybe?”

Tendou nods. “When I met senpai…you were this old, yeah.”

“Jeez, you’re really drunk. We met two months ago, remember? I was on the interview board.”

“Yeah.” Tendou’s gaze is glued to the photo. “I was so sad, ‘cause senpai doesn’t remember me. But also really happy to see you after such a long time…I thought it was a dream…”

“Hm? I don’t get it.”

Tendou finally looks up from the picture and meets your wary gaze with those wide red eyes. God, you used to think his face was so creepy—lately you find his zealousness endearing, almost childlike, but right now? It’s making your feet itch how much you want to step away from him. “I was really hoping you would remember on your own, but I guess I’ll have to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“How me an’ senpai met…”

Are you imagining it, or does his voice sound a lot less slurred than it did just 20 minutes ago? “You’re not making any sense.”

“Shh, just listen…your little brother played volleyball when you were kids, didn’t he?”

How did he know that? You nod hesitantly.

“Yeah…he was in my grade. He was a bad kid, y’know that? Always saying mean things to me.”

It’s true. Your brother’s always had a mean streak in him.

“He used to call me a monster. ‘Cause, y’know—“ Tendou taps a finger against his face. “Guess I look weird. And my name, too. So he said he didn’t wanna play with me. Demons can’t play on human teams. Every day, saying cruel things. I really hated him.”

Monster. Volleyball. Your little brother. Tendou Satori like the mind-reading spirits from folklore. Something’s coming to mind, a memory you haven’t thought about in years—no, decades.

Your little brother making fun of another kid. A tall kid with red hair in a bowl cut.

“I-I remember,” you stammer. “I came to his practice one time and you were there, right? That bowl cut kid was you. I got mad at him for calling you names and I yelled at him. That’s when we met?”

“Correct!” Tendou’s beaming like you just told him he won the lottery instead of recalling a random fifteen-year-old memory. “You made him let me play! I got to get on the court, and block him, and see his beaten face looking up at me. All because of senpai.”

You can play this off, you think to yourself. Tell him you’re sorry for how your brother treated him. Ask him why he never told you that the two of you have met before. Say something. Anything. But your mouth is too dry to let you speak.

“And, you know…” Tendou’s voice softens and a light blush dusts his cheeks. “I thought you were so cool. I couldn’t believe you were related to that jerk. Can I…tell you a secret?”

No. Deep down you know what he’s going to say, and you don’t want to hear it.

Tendou’s hand comes up to comb through your hair, gently pulling through the delicate strands next to your face and tucking them back so he can lean in and whisper into your ear (even though there’s no one else around). “I like you, senpai.”

Stop it. Stop it. Your blood feels cold in your veins.

“I’ve liked you ever since then. I used to wish we were in the same grade so I could be your friend and talk to you every day. Whenever we were in different schools I missed seeing you in the halls and hearing your voice when you spoke to other people.”

“Stop...stop talking,” you whisper, but Tendou continues like he didn’t hear you.

“Why’d you have to go all the way to Tokyo for college? In my third year at Shiratorizawa I studied for your school’s entrance exam forever, but I didn’t get in. Was too busy with volleyball, I guess.” He pauses. “Oh, by the way, I went to Shiratorizawa. I lied about that, sorry. But—seriously, d’you have any idea how hard it was for me when you were away at university? Not seeing the person I love for six years?”

Love, he said. You feel nauseous. “Tendou, you don’t—“

“Let me finish, okay senpai? You don’t know how much I’ve been through. Always having to respect your ‘personal space’—“ he frames the phrase in mocking air quotes— “when I need to touch you so bad I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

And then he’s hugging you into his chest, crushing your torso into his. You struggle and try to get him to let you go, but Tendou is so much stronger than you.

“You’re not that different from your brother after all, are you?” he hums into your hair. “You’ve been torturing me. You know how you lean over my desk when you show me something on my computer? I can…see down your shirt when you do that. And I smell your perfume. I spent two hours at the mall trying all the different perfumes so I could find the right one…thought my nose was gonna stop working! But don’t laugh—“

You’re not laughing.

“—the salesgirl looked at me funny but I got it eventually. Chance Eau Fraiche, right? I can’t believe how expensive that stuff is, what is it made of gold? It was worth it though! I saw this news article about how smelling things in your sleep can trigger memories, so I tried spraying your perfume on my pillow before I go to bed and now I get to see you at work and when I’m dreaming—”

“STOP IT!” Your slap echoes across the room with a resounding crack. You’ve never hit anyone before in your life, but your aim is good enough to leave Tendou staring with a shocked expression off to the side and a bright red mark on his face. His arms fall down from you and you back away from him, clutching your hand to your chest. “You need to get out. You’re drunk and you’re not thinking clearly. We...we can talk about this tomorrow, but right now you have to go.”

Your heart is beating like hummingbird wings, sending a flush up to your face that you know is visible. Tendou ghosts his hand over his cheek and is quiet for a long moment. “I wanted to do this the right way,” he says finally.

“What?”

“I tried. But you’re so obsessed with professionalism. You refused to see me like that,” he sighs. “You’re too responsible. Although it’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Please listen to me...” The psychological anxiety of this revelation is stirring up a primal fight or flight instinct, and you start backing up.

“I really wanted to treat you gently. You deserve to be treated well…”

“Tendou, wait.” How far are you from your bedroom? You don’t want to resort to hiding from him, but you’d feel a lot better with a locked door between you and him.

“…but senpai, I’ve waited so long. And it’s my birthday.”

Your hands scrabble for the doorknob, only—oh. He’s not just stronger than you, he’s faster too.

➠ [Part 2]

[flowercrown-bard]

To give without knowing (20/20)

AO3

previous /  masterpost

word count: ~4k

Epilogue

Geralt and Jaskier’s room at Kaer Morhen was lit with an assortment of candles that painted a faint golden glow onto Jaskier’s skin. From his place - his head lying on Jaskier’s lap - Geralt looked up at him, with no need to hide everything he felt for the bard.

He looked beautiful in this light. He always did. And so Geralt told him, because there needn’t be any more secrets. Finding the right words was still hard for Geralt and more often than not, he closed off and tried to hide away instead of confronting Jaskier about his feelings, but he knew that at the end of the day, he could talk to Jaskier and that he would stay with him. That he loved him.

“You’re beautiful.”

Jaskier’s fingers that were running through Geralt’s hand in a soothing motion, faltered for a moment, but then Jaskier’s lips spread into a wide smile.

“You are too,” he replied, his hand leaving Geralt’s tresses for long enough to trace his face; smooth out the perpetual crease between his brows, caress his cheeks and run a thumb over his lips. Without thinking, Geralt pressed a small kiss against his thumb, making Jaskier’s smile brighten.

He didn’t need to think anymore, didn’t need to doubt or agonise over his or Jaskier’s feelings. If the weeks travelling with Jaskier by his side in which he had been allowed to kiss him and tell him how much he meant to him, however often he wanted, hadn’t been enough to convince Geralt that he had no reason to be scared, the months they had been together at Kaer Morhen had left no doubt about how Jaskier felt.

Geralt closed his eyes again, giving a content hum as Jaskier’s fingers trailed his nose, his brow and found their way back to his hair. Absentmindedly, Jaskier began to part his tresses and weave them into a lose braid.

If anyone had told Geralt a year ago, that he could have this, he would have snorted in disbelief and turned away, despite his heart aching for it.

Now, though, it was as natural as breathing – as natural as loving Jaskier - to let him run his fingers through his hair whenever he pleased. Geralt had dreamed about this for so long and yet the reality of it was better than anything he could have ever imagined.

When Geralt had searched for the carvings, he had imagined Jaskier talking endlessly about whatever held his interest at the moment and he would have been happy to listen to Jaskier if that was what he wanted to do. But Jaskier didn’t rant about the pranks Lambert kept pulling on him and his plans for revenge, nor did he gush about the elven poetry Eskel had showed him in the library. Instead, Jaskier quietly hummed to himself. Geralt wasn’t even sure Jaskier realised he was doing it, but with every note Jaskier sang, Geralt felt lighter.

“Sing the words for me?” he asked softly enough to not interrupt Jaskier’s humming.

Jaskier didn’t falter in his song, but without missing a beat, he added words to the melody. They were the exact same words that had torn into Geralt’s chest with icy claws, not five months ago. And yet, as Jaskier now sang of moonlight-strands of hair and blazing eyes of liquid fire, Geralt felt warmth flood his insides and he couldn’t stop a smile from tugging at his lips. He didn’t want to stop himself either. Not when he now knew that those words that had caused him so much agony, had been meant for him all along.

Low enough that Jaskier might not be able to hear it, Geralt hummed the melody as well. The bitter winter winds howling outside created a haunting harmony to their song. Theirs, because this too had been written for Geralt.

Geralt snuggled closer against Jaskier’s warmth, knowing that soon enough, Vesemir would tell him to go fix the roof of one of the towers or spar with his brothers. For now, though, Geralt was allowed to be with his beloved, for no reason other than that they simply wished to be close to one another.

Jaskier finished the braid and let his hands caress Geralt’s face again. As he sang of hands so gentle and so strong, Geralt reached out and enclosed Jaskier’s wrist with his hand. There was a slight hitch in Jaskier’s breathing and an amused and curious note entered his voice, but he didn’t stop singing. When Geralt opened his eyes, he was met with a gaze so soft and loving that it took his breath away.

Slowly – not because of doubt or fear, but because he wanted to savour the moment – Geralt brought Jaskier’s hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss against each of his knuckles.

When he was done, he brought his other hand to Jaskier’s face and tugged him closer. Jaskier followed his lead happily and leaned over to kiss Geralt.

The position wasn’t comfortable for either of them, with Geralt having to lift his head off Jaskier’s lap and Jaskier having to bend his back to meet each other’s lips, but Geralt wouldn’t exchange this for anything else. Jaskier moved slowly against him, smiling into the kiss as Geralt cradled the back of his head.

“Jaskier?” Geralt pulled back just enough to speak, but still holding Jaskier close.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up just the same as they had the first time Geralt had said it.

“I love you too.”

They didn’t need to say it out loud - both of them knew how the other felt – and yet, Geralt’s heart beat faster every time the words fell from his lips. He didn’t need to say them, but he could. And he wanted to. After spending so much time thinking that Jaskier wouldn’t want to ever hear those words coming from Geralt’s lips, he relished in seeing Jaskier’s face brighten whenever he uttered them, just as much as he loved hearing Jaskier say it back.

Geralt’s hand wandered up, brushing the scar that was barely visible anymore above Jaskier’s brow. He leaned up to press a soft kiss against it, but fell back onto Jaskier’s lap with a frustrated growl. This really wasn’t the best position to do this.

The muffled sound of Jaskier’s laughter made Geralt stop his grumbling and when Geralt threw him a mock-glare Jaskier’s shoulders only shook more.

“Do you want to sit up?” Jaskier suggested with a grin. “Might be more practical.”

Geralt huffed, drawing his brows together in a frown that he knew wouldn’t fool Jaskier.

“I’m comfortable where I am.”

Jaskier hummed thoughtfully and tugged lightly on a strand of hair that had come loose from Geralt’s braid.

“But consider this: If you sit up, we can kiss more comfortably.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes and as if he still needed to contemplate Jaskier’s words. He cocked his head, which must look strange as he was still lying down.

“Could we hug too?”

“You know you don’t have to ask.” Jaskier rolled his eyes, but his expression softened. “But yes, we can hug too.”

He opened his arms a little and immediately, Geralt sat up and turned so he could wrap his arms around Jaskier and bury his head in the crook of his neck. Jaskier’s content sigh ghosted over his neck and made goosebumps erupt all over his skin, as he rubbed small circles into his back.

The very same motion had been used so often to soothe each other, to comfort and tell the other that they were protected. Now, though, it was just a caress, a drawing of lazy patterns, simple as that. They didn’t hold each other close to fend off the cold and there was no need for comfort. They simply embraced because they wanted to.  

For a moment, Geralt closed his eyes and just took in the feeling of having Jaskier in his arms. He nuzzled into Jaskier’s neck, laughing lightly when Jaskier complained that the bits of loose hair tickled.

When Geralt opened his eyes again, his gaze fell onto the shelf Eskel had helped install on the wall opposite the bed. Most of the shelf was occupied with little trinkets and knickknacks Jaskier had insisted were important to bring with him. Books, hair brushes, a small vial of perfume and Jaskier’s attempts at knitting, which Geralt had come to accept as part of their room now. All of it was something Jaskier valued for one reason or another and seeing it in the room that used to be so barren and cold most winters, ignited a bright flame in Geralt’s chest. All of those things were a reminder that Jaskier belonged here with him, that he had chosen Geralt and intended to stay.

And yet, despite how much meaning Geralt read into these things, it was nothing compared to the feeling he got when his eyes fell onto the top shelf. There, in a neat row, sat the carvings Geralt had given Jaskier. His lips quirked up and he let out a small laugh when he saw the stick sitting between the cat and the fish. Over the months, they had made a game out of Geralt pretending to throw the stick out and hiding it away until Jaskier found it again. Jaskier had become better and better at finding all of Geralt’s hiding spots. Granted, Geralt had never truly tried to make the snake unfindable. If he wanted to keep things hidden, he had ways to do so. Thankfully.

“What’s so funny?” Jaskier asked, and pulled back just enough to be able to see Geralt’s face. His hands slid down Geralt’s shoulders and arms until he was tenderly holding Geralt’s hands in his.

“Nothing,” Geralt said, giving Jaskier’s hand a light squeeze. “I’m just happy that you’re here.”

There were only two figures missing from the collection. The wolf and the horse stood on the nightstand next to their bed. Whenever Geralt held Jaskier at night, he could see them watching over them. He would have thought that after months, he would have gotten used to that sight and what it meant, but then again, he hadn’t gotten used to being able to the way Jaskier’s back fitted against his chest either. But he was more than happy to spend the rest of his life getting used to it. He doubted the warmth in his chest and the wonder that overcame him whenever Jaskier snuggled closer, would ever go away.

Jaskier followed Geralt’s gaze and let out a contemplative hum.

“I don’t want to leave the figurines here when we leave Kaer Morhen again.”

“I could always make you knew ones.” When Jaskier’s brows rose up, Geralt added, “Yes, I know that I don’t need to give you gifts.”

Jaskier nodded, pleased and lifted Geralt’s hand to press a kiss against his knuckles. Geralt couldn’t help but think that it felt like a reward.

“You could always take half of them with you,” he suggested. “You could put them in your rooms in Oxenfurt.” He hesitated, but one look in Jaskier’s eyes made him stomp down any doubts before they so much as became full thoughts. “So you won’t have to miss them when we spend the next winter there together.”

Jaskier’s face lit up. “That’s a wonderful idea. Especially since you so rudely thwarted our plans of having you come visit me there. I was looking forward to that.” He playfully jabbed a finger at Geralt’s chest. “Spending the winter there will more than make up for that.”

Geralt huffed in response to Jaskier’s teasing. He really could get used to this. He wanted to have moments like this one for the rest of his life. He wanted to have Jaskier with him for the rest of his life.

“I have something for you,” Geralt said, the sudden seriousness in his voice a stark contrast to the earlier playfulness. “I wasn’t sure when to give it to you, but if you’re worried about missing the carvings…this might help a little.”

He made to get up, but Jaskier stopped him from getting farther than a step, by holding fast onto his hand.

“Geralt, you just said – “

“I know,” Geralt interrupted softly. “I don’t need to. But I want to give you this. It’s…it would mean a lot to me.”

The fondness in Jaskier’s eyes as he nodded warmed Geralt from the inside. Geralt took another step away from the bed, but then he stopped.

“Close your eyes.”

Jaskier lifted an eyebrow with a grin. “Seriously?”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier closed his eyes and immediately Geralt narrowed his. He leaned in again and long before his lips ever reached Jaskier’s, a smile played around Jaskier’s mouth.

“You peeked,” Geralt said, just before brushing his lips against Jaskier’s.

“No I didn’t,” Jaskier said, still pretending rather badly to have his eyes closed.

Geralt snorted and reached for the shelf to pull down the scarf - if it could be called that – that Jaskier had attempted to knit over the course of the winter.

“Oh come on.” Jaskier’s grin took away the effect of his indignant tone. “You don’t need to blindfold me.”

Geralt didn’t reply, just placed the scarf around Jaskier’s head and secured it gently, making sure no hair got stuck in the knot. For a moment, he just took in Jaskier’s pout, the excited twitching of his hands and the way Jaskier tried to move his head in the direction Geralt was.

“Geralt?” he asked, making Geralt realise that he had gotten so lost in watching Jaskier that he had forgotten to move. “Are you still there? You know, this is really unfair, what with you moving soundlessly.”

“I’m still here.” Geralt pressed a kiss against the crown of Jaskier’s head, before turning away again and opening the chest in the far end of the room. He pressed against the inside of the chest lid, and the secret compartment he had built in there years ago, snapped open.

He hesitated a moment, before his fingers closed around the thing he had hidden in there. It might be too much, too soon. Despite having worked on this for longer than he had any other carving to perfect it, a spike of doubt shot up in him. Perhaps it wasn’t good enough. Maybe he should wait a little longer before he gave it to Jaskier.

One glance at Jaskier, bouncing a little on the bed in anticipation, dissipated all of his doubts. His fingers tightened around the gift and he walked back, kneeling onto the bed behind Jaskier.

Taking one last deep breath, he draped the thin chain of the necklace around Jaskier’s neck and clasped it. Immediately, Jaskier’s hand shot up to run over the wooden pendant lying above his heart. His breath hitched as he traced the fine carving on it.

“Geralt?”

Geralt unfastened the knot holding the scarf in place and moved so he could see Jaskier’s face as he took in the necklace Geralt had made for him.

Jaskier’s breath hitched.

“It’s-“ His words broke off with a choked sound as his eyes lit up with more joy than Geralt had ever imagined he could bring to him. His voice was but a breath, when he finished, “- beautiful.”

Jaskier truly was. He always had been. When the sunlight shone onto him, his hair would turn nearly golden. When he smiled, his eyes would crinkle at the sides and when he woke up and yawned in a truly undignified manner, his tousled hair would make Geralt want to run his hands through it to smooth it out.

Now though, with a wooden wolf medallion resting against his chest, Geralt was sure that Jaskier had never looked more beautiful.

“It’s just like yours,” Jaskier marvelled as he tilted the pendant to see all the details and the shading Geralt had burned into the wood with a controlled igni, that he had had to practice with Eskel first before he had been confident enough in his skill to use it to adorn Jaskier’s gift.

Geralt hummed, a pleased flutter in his chest at how happy Jaskier sounded at the prospect.

“Not quite,” Geralt said. When Jaskier gave him a quizzical look, Geralt added, “Flip it over.”

Jaskier did as he was told and when he realised what was on the other side of the medallion, he let out a small gasp and his eyes widened. Almost reverently, he stroked a finger over the delicate buttercups that were engraved into the wood.

“This might be a little easier to take with you on the Path,” Geralt said, catching Jaskier’s hand and holding it gently. Months of fear told him to amend what he had said and add that Jaskier didn’t have to take it with him if he didn’t want to. He was well aware that with this carving, there would be no doubt whom he had gotten it from. He knew he shouldn’t doubt, but still… “You can wear it so others can only see the buttercups, if you don’t want to be seen with the wolf medallion.”

Jaskier’s brows kitted together and he dropped the medallion back to his chest.

“The only reason why I would wear it like that is so I could keep the wolf closer to my heart.”

Geralt’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“You like the gift then?”

Jaskier’s eyes crinkled at the sides with a smile as he gave Jaskier’s hand a light squeeze.

“I love it.” He leaned forward to steal a kiss from Geralt. “And I love you.”

When Jaskier pulled away again, Geralt chased the kiss, burying his free hand in Jaskier’s hair and relishing in the feeling of Jaskier smiling against his lips.

“Greedy,” Jaskier teased.

“Can’t I be?”

“When it comes to kisses? Always. There’s nothing I would rather give you.”

Geralt took it as an invitation to steal another kiss. Jaskier laughed lightly, breaking the kiss with the sound. Geralt didn’t mind. There was no sound more beautiful than Jaskier’s laugh and no feeling better than knowing Geralt had been the one to get Jaskier to make that sound.

Geralt’s hand left Jaskier’s hair and played with Jaskier’s two-sided medallion.

“You never gave me an answer,” he began slowly, “when I asked you why you had chosen your name to be a flower.”

“Ah.” The hint of a shadow fell onto Jaskier’s face. “I never did tell you, did I?”

A spike of uncertainty pierced Geralt’s chest and he drew away.

“You don’t need to tell me.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just…I might have been a bit dramatic when I chose that name.”

“As opposed to now, when there’s not a single dramatic bone in your body,” Geralt deadpanned, earning him a snort and a swat to the arm from Jaskier.

“Oh shush you,” Jaskier said, with laughter in his eyes. “I mean it. I might have been a bit…melodramatic. One might also say, I was feeling terrible about myself and I wanted to take that and make it into something good.”

“You don’t need to downplay how you felt,” Geralt said seriously.

“I know.” Jaskier’s twitched into a thin smile that slowly grew warmer as he exhaled. “Buttercups aren’t exactly the most beautiful flowers out there. Or the most useful ones. Or the most resilient. When I was a child, I tried to make a bouquet of buttercups and the petals had fallen off before I could give it to my mother. I don’t remember much, it’s been so long ago, but I do remember that I cried and tossed the stems away. My mother found them and together we planted a little patch of buttercups in the garden, where I could see them from my window. She taught me how to take care of them so they would grow and I loved doing that whenever I was frustrated from my lessons. I have no idea how much time I spent staring at these buttercups every time that I failed at something. When I didn’t understand my lessons on how to become a viscount, when I had an argument with my father, when I felt like I was wilting away in that place.”

A line between his brows had appeared at his first words and deepened as the story went on, but now it smoothed away, as Jaskier rubbed the pendant between his fingers. “I felt like those plucked buttercups. It was only a matter of time before I too would fester like they had. But If I could just find the way to care for myself in the right way, if I found my garden and people who cared for me like my mother and I had for the flowers, I could grow. I thought that though I might still not be very useful, or resilient or…or good enough for anyone to want to keep me around, but maybe I could find someone who would look at me and find comfort in me.”

“You did,” Geralt said, putting as much sincerity into his voice as he could.

Jaskier’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “When I told my mother, she helped me leave Lettenhove and go to Oxenfurt. I know my father wasn’t happy about my going away, but…I think he has accepted that I’d rather be a bard than a viscount. And he knows I’m happier like this. But I don’t know for sure. I haven’t seen them in so long. Only once, since leaving Lettenhove and that was even before the two of us had met.”

“We could visit them, if you wanted.” Geralt shifted his weight a little, as he tried to find the right words. “If you miss your mother, we could meet her. If your parents watched you perform, I’m sure they would be proud of you. I know I am.”

Jaskier’s bottom lip trembled and his grip tightened around the pendant. “I think I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

“So. Oxenfurt, Beauclair and Lettenhove. We’re going to have a busy year.”

Jaskier let out a small laugh and his eyes glinted with joy that made that delicate thing in Geralt’s chest glow brighter than the sun.

“Oh, don’t forget that we’ll have to go back to the coast again to tell Essi about everything that happened. And I’ve already promised Lambert and Eskel that we are going to meet up with them again in summer.”

“If you keep making so many plans, they aren’t all going to fit into just one year.”

Jaskier gave him a boyish grin and nudged him playfully with his elbow. “Good thing you’re not going to get rid of me anytime soon, then. We have all the time in the world.”

The notion was so strange, so wonderful. Even after all this time, imagining a future together felt like a dream. Geralt’s words got stuck in his throat and he could do nothing but hum in agreement.  Jaskier understood him even so.

“Well, anyway,” Jaskier gave a mock bow, “that was the glorious tale of the meaning of my name.”

“I like it.” Geralt’s voice was strangely rough. “And I think buttercups are plenty beautiful.”

“Flatterer.” Jaskier let out a snort, but his expression remained soft.

“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Poet, then.”

Geralt let out a groan, that quickly ended in a chuckle. “Now that’s more an insult to you than to me, masterpoet.”

“I don’t think so. You can be quite good with words. Occasionally.” He winked and tilted his head to the side, a glint in his eyes. “Like when you told me what your gifts meant. I assume that there’s meaning to this carving too?”

Geralt hummed in agreement.

“So what does it mean?” Jaskier asked in a way that made it clear that he knew exactly what it meant.

“What do you think it means?”

Geralt leaned closer to press their foreheads together. He closed his eyes, focussing on Jaskier’s touch, as he played idly with Geralt’s fingers and drew small patterns onto his skin.

Jaskier didn’t answer right away. He didn’t need to. Both of them already knew what it meant. They saw it in each other’s eyes when they later sat together with the rest of the wolves, joking and laughing. They felt it in each other’s touch, when Jaskier brushed his side when they were preparing dinner together. They heard it in each other’s voices when Jaskier cheered Geralt on while he sparred with Lambert and Geralt gave snarky commentary just for the sake of Jaskier’s entertainment.

And later, when the keep had quieted down again and they laid in each other’s arms once more, Geralt leaned closer to Jaskier and whispered it in his ear. And Jaskier caressed his cheek gently and whispered it right back.

---

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[bored-mumma]

Tom Holland Fluff Alphabet

MASTERLIST

A = Attractive. What do they find attractive about the other?

Personality wise, Tom loves your ability to laugh in most situations. No matter how stressed he is, you easily bring a smile to his face.

Physically, he finds your looks breath taking. Your  a priceless work of art to him.

B = Baby. Do they want a family? Why/Why not?

Yes, Tom is almost obsessed with the idea of having a family with you. He’s doing it all right. Got a house with a few spare bedrooms, proposed, got married, and now is waiting for the day you finally show him the positive test. It’s the life he’s always dreamt of. 

C = Cuddle. How do they cuddle?

Wrapped around you. Usually his arms are held around your waist, head resting on your chest and his legs tangled with yours too. He wants to feel your warmth and to just relax after a hard day.

D = Dates. What are dates with them like?

Not usually traditional ones. Instead of fancy restaurants, you can’t beat a late night drive to the beach, sitting in the car with a take away and singing very loudly and very badly to some love songs. Having fun is the most important part of your date nights.

E = Everything. You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

You are my best friend.

F = Feelings. When did they know they were falling in love?

You couldn’t see the floor from the amount of the snacks laid on it , you and Tom both wearing your comfiest pyjamas and snuggled up beneath some duvets. There was a raging storm outside so instead of a nice meal out, Tom ordered so much stuff to eat and some movies. He rested his head on your lap, your finger nails gently dragging along his skin. He wasn’t watching the movie though. Instead his eyes kept drifting up to you, realising just how much he has fallen in love with you. 

G = Gentle. Are they gentle? If so, how?

Very. In every way. He’ll hold you gently, he’ll comfort you gently. Even if you argue, he’ll still talk in a calm voice. You’ve never even heard him raise his voice let alone yell properly - especially at you. He’s definitely your gentle giant.

H = Holding Hands. How do they like to hold hands?

I = Impression. First impression/s?

Tom thought you were hilarious. In you walked, a large smile on your face and making everyone happy. You loved to make others happy and Tom was no exception. He introduced himself and the two of you hit it off almost immediately. It didn’t take long for him to ask you out - in fact he did so just three days later.

J- Joker. Are they into pulling pranks?

you tend to pull pranks on other people as a pair. He’ll randomly text you throughout the day saying he’s bored and the two of you will discuss how to pull a couple pranks on his co-workers. 

K = Kiss. How do they kiss?

Pretty gently. He puts his forehead on yours, holding your hands. He slowly leans in and presses his lips against yours, moving in sync. Although, of course, there are other times when its more feral. He’ll pull you towards him, claiming your lips as his own as his hands tangle in your hair. 

L = Love. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

Tom does. He was so excited to say it, he was acting like an over-energetic puppy! He made you your favourite breakfast one morning, along with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Taking it up to you, you sat in the bed together and before you even had a chance to say thank you, Tom blurted “A beautiful breakfast for the beautiful woman i love.”

M = Memory. What’s their favourite memory together?

When you went to meet his family. He is really close with them all, and when you came in and just instantly clicked with everyone, Tom couldn’t help but sit back with a smile on his face. When everyone sat for dinner, Tom barely got a word in edge ways since his family was just adoring you and wanted to keep the conversation going. 

N = Nickel. Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?

You. Get. Everything. And I mean everything. When looking at buying your first house together, you had to get one with an extra bedroom just to store all the stuff he got you. Usually some random stuff he sees in shops that reminds him of you but it also includes stunning accessories, clothes, vintage books, literally everything

P = Petnames. What petnames do they use?

“babe” or “love”.

Q = Quaint. What is their favourite non-modern thing?

Tom loves to sow! It takes his mind of his hectic life just for a little while. A wall in the spare bedroom is just covered in his designs. Ones he’s most proud of but doesn’t want them hanging in the lounge. It’s also great for you. Rip in your favourite top? No problem, Tom can fix it.

R = Rainy Day

Board games! All and any! Except for monopoly, as experience taught you, that game brings out both your extreme competitive side. 

S = Sad. How do they cheer themselves/others up?

Tom is very good at talking about his feelings with you. If he’s down, he knows your the best shoulder to cry on and vice versa. He’ll always be there for you too. You may not be able to give him advice or to really help him out but just to have someone to hold, to cry to and talk to makes him feel safe. 

T = Talking. What do they like to talk about?

He loves a good gossip. Want to tell him a story about your co-workers having an affair? He’s all ears, throwing in a few gasps and questions too. He’s just nosy but so are you! So a perfect match. 

U = Unencumbered. What helps them relax?

A warm, deep bubble bath with some music playing softly, a good book and some snacks. It’s so relaxing there’s been a few times you’ve had to walk in the bathroom and wake him up from a nap.

V = Vaunt. What do they like to show off? 

He dances. All. The. Time. Either with you or just around you, he loves to dance. And you can’t deny, he’s got the moves! 

W = Wedding. When, how, where do they propose?

Coming home from a lunch date with some friends, you were looking forward to just relaxing at home since it was Toms night to cook. However, when you opened the front door, your eyes landed on the most beautiful sight. Your home was covered in flowers, some candles and a red carpet rolled down the middle. Except there was no sight of your partner. Calling out to him, you walked farther into the room when Tessa, your guys dog, ran out and down the red carpet, a little note wrapped around her collar. As you gave her a quick scratch behind the ears, you read the words “Will you marry me?” 

“What do you say?” You spin as you hear Tom speak from behind you, down on one knee and holding a stunning ring. 

X = Xylophone. What’s their song?

Lady in red

Y = You. You are the ___ to my ___ (e.g. the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You are the straw to my berry

Z = Zebra. If they wanted a pet, what would they get?

Tom is very content with Tessa. Both of you love the staffy to pieces! But he’s very open at the idea of more dogs in the future. 

[animedaddymilkers]

Kinkmas 2020: Day 19

Prompt: Praise Kink w/ Itachi

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Established Relationship, Comfort Sex, Praise, Penetrative Sex || Characters: Itachi Uchiha, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

Another rag filled with blood was wiped across your forehead, the sweat dripping down your skin and burning the cuts you had. As the secret compound came into view your footing faltered but you couldn't stop now, you were so close to being home. Or at least, the place you considered home. The front door came not fast enough and you stumbled through, your legs milliseconds away from giving out. At this point, you were only standing and moving out of pure determination and spite. With your presence, a couple of other Akatsuki members appeared to investigate the commotion, Deidara making some smart ass comment about how shitty you looked. Your blurry vision could barely process things, the last thing you remembered was a sea of black enveloping you before unconsciousness came to claim you.

Hours later, you woke with a groan and a hand resting on your shoulder to prevent you from sitting up. Every possible part of your body hurt so you didn't put up a fight, laying back down. You blinked your eyes open, adjusting to the light slowly. As your brain was able to finally process things again you realized it was Itachi who was sitting beside the bed. The sight of him reassured you, sending a sense of ease over you. He smiled softly, thumb gently rubbing over the back of your hand. Without words, he was telling you just how much he adored you, knowing that if he were to talk now it would overwhelm you. A damp cloth was placed on your forehead while Itachi continued to attend to your wounds. Soft music was playing in the background and somewhere in your mind, you recognized it was the traditional music he tended to play when he was stressed. Knowing you caused an already anxious man more turmoil guilted you slightly, but before it could become overwhelming you fell back to sleep.

The next time you woke up, Itachi was still sitting next to you, though he moved to sit next to you on the bed. Compared to earlier, you felt infinitely better, ignoring his silent pleas for you to lay back down. You sat up, testing your limbs and the injuries you sustained. Nothing felt extremely out of the ordinary, just a bit of discomfort really.

"I used a salve. It should help with the pain," his voice broke you out of your concentration, meeting his gaze again.

"Thank you," you answered quietly.

A long pause fell over you two, just comfortable silence as you continued to look at each other. Itachi's eyes practically screamed that he had more to say to you, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, he leaned forward quickly, gingerly locking lips with you. As his mouth pressed into yours his hands cupped your face, holding you close. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer. The only time you broke the kiss was to breathe before hurriedly going back in.

"You're amazing," the compliment was muttered against your jaw where he was currently kissing, "I heard the details. (Y/N), you excel so far above everyone else. How can you stand to have me in your presence?"

"Itachi…," you breathed out, hands playing with his silk hair, "You're just as amazing as I am, if not more."

He let out a breathy laugh, as if the counter compliment was amusing to him, "No, dearest. You soar higher than anyone else. Don't sell yourself short."

His hand lifted one of yours to his lips and he kissed up your arm before continuing, "I'm glad you've come back to me. I was beginning to worry. Most others would have perished on that mission. But you- you finished it and more."

It was your turn to laugh softly, "Yeah, finished it and came back in tatters more like."

"You sustained grave injuries yet still made it home. Simply another testament to your abilities, love. Now hush, no more negative talk," his hands ghosted across your shoulders, bare from when he bandaged you up earlier.

The dull ache in your body was proof the injuries were bad, considering that even after medical healing you were still mildly in pain. Yet, Itachi was determined to kiss them better, gently caressing each patched up spot and pressing a kiss into it. Thanks to his affections you became more aware of your body, taking note you were only wearing shorts. His hands were all over your body, ghosting over your skin before returning to your face. He played with your hair, simply gazing into your eyes before kissing you again. You pulled him closer, taking his hair out of the usual ponytail it was pulled back in. A curtain of his black locks fell around your face, closing out the rest of the world from you two. His hands wandered to your chest as he continued to kiss you, fingers massaging your breasts and coaxing a moan from you.

"You sound beautiful, beloved. Let me hear you sing."

His soft fingertips tugged on your nipples, playing with them as he kissed you, happily swallowing each of the moans you gave him. Itachi was definitely a foreplay man, but this time his hands moved quicker than normal. Usually, he'd spend an hour just kissing and making out with you. Now, your shorts were already discarded and a hand rubbed softly at your clit. Granted, you were a bit needy yourself, tugging at his long sleeve shirt until he removed it. You ran your hands down his chest, his eyes closing at your touch. When his eyes opened again he took your hands in his as he went to sink down further in between your legs until you stopped him.

"'Tachi… I need you…," your words were breathy and to the point, knowing if he used his mouth your abs would be sorer than they already were from your injuries.

The brief look of disappointment on his face almost made you laugh, he was a giver in every sense of the word and sex was no different, "Anything you want, love. Just say the words and I will give it to you."

He kissed the pulse point on the inside of your wrist and knelt between your spread legs. Paying extra mind to your wounds he hovered over your body, propped up on his elbows as he slowly pushed into you. You sighed in unison, Itachi burying his face into your neck, his thumbs rubbing over your shoulders affectionately. Slowly, his hips pushed in further until he was in all the way, kissing your neck and brushing his fingers along your arms.

"You feel divine, love. So warm and wet for me. You make me lose my mind."

His mumbled words made you moan quietly, rolling your hips up to meet his. A hand gripped your waist as he thrust against you, whispered praises spilled into your ear with each movement. You whined at his words, the compliments only adding to your pleasure. When you could manage to get words out in between pants you made sure to return a compliment, adamant to let him know how good he was making you feel. He leaned his head back, hair falling down his shoulders, looking like a statue above you. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you pleaded for him to move faster. At first, he was hesitant, not wanting to strain your injuries, but after you breathlessly begged again he knew he couldn't refuse you. His hips moved faster, dragging his cock in and out of you. Each time he thrust he changed the angle of his hips until you gasped and dug your nails into his skin again. He grinned slightly, knowing he found your special spot. After that, he kept the angle the same, pounding into you.

"I'm going to make you feel good, darling. As good as you make me feel. Love, you look so heavenly like this…"

The pitch of his voice began to betray him, getting slightly higher as he tried to prolong his climax. Again, he was a giver and adamant about making sure you experienced the ultimate pleasure first. His pace quickened and a finger met your clit again, rubbing it in practiced circles. The only time his mouth stopped giving you breathless praise was when they were softly leaving marks along your skin. You arched your back off the bed, hands wandering his body before settling in his hair. Itachi groaned and his finger on your clit moved faster, noticing how close you were to the edge.

"Cum for me, dearest. Show me you're still alive."

The last comment was little more than a desperate plea and it confirmed suspicions you had earlier. Itachi must have been distraught over your condition when you returned. And rightfully so, having lost nearly everyone important to him, the thought of also losing you weighed on his mind constantly. Yet each time you had a mission you were determined to show him how capable you were, show him how you would always keep your promise to return to him. So, you had no problems with showing him just how alive you were, calling out his name and moaning as you let your orgasm claim you. Your pussy clenched around his still thrusting cock, making the grip on your waist tighten. Nails raking down his back he gasped your name and held you tightly in his arms. His hips kept moving, riding you through your orgasm before he groaned and came inside of you. The feeling was overwhelming and as each of you came down from your highs you held onto each other. Itachi kissed your temple and you barely remember him cleaning you both up as sleep yet again claimed you.

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

[7soulstars]

Hello :) I hope it's okay to send a request (if not, then I'm sorry about it ) So maybe where Bucky lives on Clint's farm to get away from everything but then there comes this woman, Clints best friend besides Nat and he immediately wants to know her better.. after a while they get really close and develope feelings for each other but dont talk about it. So one night, she stays over and needs to share a room with Buck, things get heated and passionate between them ? :) then it's all cuddly? ❤️

Hey darling! Thank you so much for requesting! I am so sorry it took me so long! I blame it on my lazy ass and also on the many pending requests. Thank you so much for being this patient with me! I really hope you like this one!

Мой целитель

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Broken Bonky Babie, Avengers are teasing little shits, Steve leaves like in the movies and doesn’t come back (I want to kill him for that), Fluff, Shy Bonky and Y/N, Liddle angst, Both idiots doubt themselves, Y/N likes beating the fuck out of bullies a.k.a Violence, steamy stuff but not smut ( cuz I don’t write smut”

Summary: Someone managed to make Bucky accept the fact that everyone can heal. 

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

Мой целитель ; (pronounced: Moy tselitel') Russian for My Healer

War never ends. It just rests. One day someone will come to ask your help that is when the rest of war is over again.

That is what Bucky has always been of the belief ever since before and after endgame. Ever since Steve left, most of Bucky did too. Yes, he had Sam and the others but Steve was the only part of his original past left and he couldn’t even stop him.

He decided that the rest period for his war conflicted heart had started when Clint had offered him a place to live at his farmhouse to ‘heal and stay away from the space bullshit’. 

Not to brag but he had fit right into the little family. The kids loved Uncle Bucky and Laura appreciated the extra help she got with the house. Sam and Natasha would come by every two days and the rest every once a week. They would go visit a bar and hang out. That was Bucky’s life now. That was his routine.

Clint had sudddenly announced one fine weekly team hangout day that his long time best friend would be joining them. Bucky couldn’t care less. He had seen people come in and out of the Barton house all the time. Most sending him glares due to his past. He couldn’t blame them. Not when he knew he would do the same in different set of circumstances.

But he was proved wrong. Y/N was an angel. More so to him. Not a single glare was directed at him by her the entire time. She just smiled sweetly. Maybe he did care a little bit.

Y/N turned out to be Lila and Cooper, Clint’s first two children’s godmother. She had finally come home after 15 years of being in and out of the country for her job. Clint had mentioned that every time she came back she would first visit the kids not forgetting to bring them gifts from everywhere and how the snap had worried her. So Bucky was not surprised when he had to get three kids off of her as she entered the house. His heart swelled when she said ‘Thank You’, although everyone said that. 

He was unusually getting attached to her and that scared him.

After Steve attatchment was difficult. Trust was difficult. But Y/N made it seem like child's play. She somehow completely saw through him. Almost as if she knew everything about him and he was confused by that.

Especially at those little moments when he felt hesitant.

Bucky was a handsome man no doubt and that meant some women were confident enough to ask hit on him everytime he was out at a restaurant or a bar with the others. Y/N would join them quite often and on one such day she saved Bucky from his anxiety issues.

"Hey.....you come here quite often.....can I buy you a drink ?", a very confident girl had managed to come up to the table and asked Bucky who looked at her with eyes as blown out as big as saucers and immediately looked down stuttering as he tried to politely reject the lady. A hand carefully wrapped around his metal arm as he realized Y/N had said "I'm sorry he's taken", before sending the girl as kind smile which had lead to Bucky's hair-hidden neck to go red.

Bucky had excused himself to the washroomas the rest relentlessly teased his popularity but he had not noticed Y/N following suit.

"I'm sorry", she had apologised leaving the other puzzled again. "W-why?" "I should have asked before touching you....I know-I know you don't like being touched....I'm sorry". There was pure sincerity in her voice "NO!",his own voice startled him and her as she looked at him in confusion. "I-I mean I'm glad....You helped me out there......Also.....",there was hesitation in Bucky's heart, "Also....I don't mind if you touch me Y/N".

That day onwards something changed. Significantly so, Bucky found himself calling and hanging out with Y/N more. She filled his thoughts would be one way of saying that and the Avengers noticed. So the next time Bucky tried to sneak out of the farm when the others were there Sam noticed, “Hey Hey Hey ! Where are you sneakin to ?”. The other stood frozen like a deer in the headlights staring down at his best friend like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. Nat smirked as she bit on her grilled cheese sandwich sing songing, “He’s going to meet Y/N~~”Bucky grumbled a little ‘Shut up Nat’ before taking the car out towards the bar.

“Buck !”, she had yelled waving as he smiled and pulled her into his arms for a hug and staying like that for a few minutes both eventually hesitantly letting go. Joe the bartender already having set up their regular drinks showed how often they frequented the place, even having seats that were almost always empty for just the two of them. 

After meeting Y/N, Bucky realised new things about himself. He liked sweet stuff more than savoury. He liked playing games at the arcade. He was definately much more open to technology than Steve ever was. He liked being spoiled and babied. And he was extremely serious about board games. He knew all this because Y/N made him realize that.

That day he found out another thing. He likes staring at Y/N looking at the sunset. In other words he likes Y/N. But he had promised himself to not act on it. He didn’t want to loose her. Not now, not ever.

Walking through a dark alley way was not something Bucky liked but with Y/N it was something he was starting to hate. Y/N is beautiful. Obliviously so. He could sense sleazy men staring at her but chose to stay put. But we all know that rouse wasn’t going to stay put for long considering a group of 3 men surrounding the two of them all eyeing Y/N. “Hey sweetheart why don’t you come with us ? We counld have a darn sweet night”, exclaimed the one that looked like the leader as the other two laughed behind him. “Back off”, Bucky had warned. He didn’t want to fight. He felt like he’d embarrass himself before Y/N. “Ohhh look who it is The Winter Soldier”, the other said mockingly. “What are you going to do? Kill me? You don’t have Captain America now to back you up do you ?”. Before Bucky could even reply the third guy let out a scream at which everyone turned to look at him to see him cradling what seemed like a freshly broken wrist and before he could even react the second one went flying into a pile of trash (where he belongs) and the main commentator’s head was being bashed strait onto the road by Y/N’s hand. “No, but he does does have an ex-black ops now turned into a CIA Agent to back him up”, she quipped seethingly through her teeth.

Bucky said nothing. His brain was still processing the information he was bombarded with. He walked Y/N to her car and drove back to Clint’s all while still processing.

So when Sam (who was just about to leave) asks “How was it ?” Bucky looks him in the eye and goes.

“I’m in love with Y/N.”

Tony had decided to prank Clint one fine day and told everyone that Clint was hosting a sleepover. So that meant Clint had to accomodated several idiots into his farmhouse. Within this chaos he also had a very great idea.

So when Y/N was pushed into Bucky’s room both stopped functioning.

Y/N spotted him angrily whispering into is phone as she got out of the shower. Throwing his phone into oblivion ,startled, when she called name out suddenly. “Y-You’re done ? Uhhhh you can take the bed doll, I’ll take the floor”,Bucky hates the floor but if it meant Y/N would be comfortable, he’d be ready to sleep on a block of ice. “Nope definately not ! We can share the damn bed Buck the floor uncomfortable !”, she argued. “ No Y/N you don’t understand I can’t !” “WHY! IS IT BECAUSE I MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE AFTER THAT DAY ?”, there was a grave silence between the two. He knew exactly what she was talking about. Bucky’s eyes soften and for the first time he realizes that he had never thaken the effort to know more about Y/N. He was focused on her helping him find himself. “Why would you say that ?” ,he said softly as he moved towards her and she moved backwards. “Because it is what it is isn’t it?”, she retorted. “NO IT IS NOT !”, Bucky sighed as he sat on the bed and watched the woman of importance as she paced around the room. “Why then Bucky ? You’ve been distant from me since that day....” “You won’t understand.....” “Try me” “I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU OKAY !” 

12 minutes. It had been 12 minutes since Y/N had froze and stared at Bucky. 

“Shut up. You’re lying” , she finally said.

“What ? No ! Why would I lie about that”,Bucky argued

“Because ! You are James Buchanan Barnes ! One of the most attractive men I have seen in my life period.”

“And here I’m the one firmly believing someone like me doesn’t even stand a change with someone as pretty as you.”

“See, you’re lying again”

“Doll, shut up before I will have to make you”, he warned

“Don’t make empty threats that you won’t fulfill James”, she challenged.

And with that Bucky has Y/N slammed into the bed , his mouth moving roughly along her’s as she puts her arms around his. There was something different about this Bucky. Y/N felt every single pent up frustration that the man kissing her had felt supressing his feelings had felt.

Soon enough they seperated, finally gasping for air. Bucky plopped beside Y/N as she placed her palm on his cheek rubbing a thumb over it while smiling at him blissfully. 

“Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you”

“I love you...”, she said and somehow Bucky knew he had tears running down his cheeks. He curled into her arms. Clint’s loud speakers playing Elvis as the two dozed off to sleep. But Bucky waited for her to doze off, kissing her forehead as he ran his metal arm through her hair.

“Мой целитель, I love you too”, he said. 

He wasn’t alone anymore. He was healed. His internal war had ended forever. That’s all he ever wanted. That’s all he was thankful for.

---The End---

Guess who almost cried writing this fic? That’s right! ME. Now I need myself a Bucky to hug. I really hope you liked this fic and I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH ON HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME! Please like, share, comment and reblog if you like my work to support me ! Please do not plagarise my hard work and thank you so much for reading! 

~Love, Hri