#so ye pinned can always update

[enden-k]

updated pinned a little. it might be good to check every now and then

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s your first time wearing that skirt. You’ve had it in your closet for two years. At least. You’re not really a skirt person but it’s cute. The floral on black with the zipper up the front. It drapes nicely enough though you’re not used to wearing anything so short. You have a trusty pair of shorts on just in case. 

You don’t go out either. Definitely not to places like this. You keep an arm across your middle, gripping your other as the hordes of people make you dizzy. The shining gold accoutrement of the decor along with the waft of low music over the noise of tables and voices add to your vertigo. 

The casino is busy and bright and loud. You stay close to your sister as she leads you across the carpet; ivory with golden curliques patterned across them. You’re no gambler either but you’re not there to play cards.  

“I think it’s upstairs,” Roxie says as she looks at the tickets in her hand. “Gala Room B.” 

“Oh, right,” you murmur and smile at her, “what’s the band again?” 

“Don’t worry about it the tickets were free,” she chirps as you look up at her. You feel even more a child beside her; your height often adds to your inferiority complex. Historically, you think, those characteristics have been often intertwined. 

“No, but--” 

“You need to get out of mom’s place more,” she chides, “I could’ve brought Katie instead, but I chose you, sis.” 

“I know, er, thanks,” you run your hand up to your shoulder and rub it nervously. 

“Show doesn’t start for another hour. Let’s get a drink,” she insists and turns, strutting towards the long bar at the other side of the grand space. You trail after her, shrinking down even further. She turns back to you as she leans on a tall stool, “what d’ya want?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t really...” 

“I know, it’s one drink, how about a vodka-cran?” She suggests, “you love cranberry.” 

“Um, sure, if you think that’s good.” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s the wild one, not you. You know you bore her and since your parents’ divorce, years ago, you haven’t really hung out together. She went with your dad and you with your mom, since then, it’s all been a bit fuzzy. 

She orders as you stand back, not wanting to get in the way of the people all around you. You lean back, rocking nervously as you glance around. You feel underdressed as you see women in cocktail dresses and men in suits. Even your sister is a stark contrast to your overly casual attire; your favourite purple cardigan and the skirt you’ve never worn. 

Your eyes scan the room, admiring the golden sconces of bulbs that resemble candelabras and the gilt trim all along the wall. The more you look around, the less you belong. You don’t even know why you said yes. Well, your mom pushed you into it. Just like your sister, she keeps saying you need to get out more. 

You rub your lips together and feel around your small tassled purse. It’s used, like most of your things. The thrift store is as much as your mom can afford and you still haven’t found a solid job. You worked at the grocery for a summer before they laid off half of you then did a one-day stint at a polling centre for the last municipal election. Even if you wanted to go out, you don’t have the money for it. 

You pull out your chapstick and smear it around your chafed lips as you sway back the other direction. You stop short as you nearly slam into another body and you stumble out of the way of the man in his black-and-white suit. Embarrassment creeps hotly up your cheeks and you cap your lip balm and stand out of his path. 

He’s taller than you. Well, everyone is. But to you, he seems huge. His suit is finely tailored to his figure though his hair seems to clash with the refined style. It’s almost to his collar but neatly parted, a shank falling forward to frame his sharp cheekbone. His square jaw is trimmed thickly with a dark beard, peppered with strands of silver and patch along the dimple of his chin. You’ve never seen anything as blue as his eyes, they are almost inhumanly vivid. 

“Sorry, doll,” he touches your arm as he passes and smirks, swiftly turning his sights ahead of him. 

You gulp as your shoulder hits someone else. You spin to face your sister as she offers you a glass. You take the red concoction with the short black straw sticking out over the ice cubes. You thank her as the chill seeps into your hand. 

“Oof, look at him,” she leans to watch after the man in his dark suit, “damn.” You frown and look in the other direction. She scoffs and nudges you, “come on. That guy is totally stunning. Even you can see that.” 

“I don’t wanna gawk at him,” you mutter, “he’s a stranger.” 

“Oh, whatever, not like he’d notice,” she snips. 

You scrunch up your lip and tuck your chapstick away as you peer toward the man. He goes up to a table, sliding in next to a taller woman with honey-blond hair and a shimmery dress. He rests his hand along her lower back as he chatters to her and the rest of the players around the leather trim. 

“Sheesh, he’s fine,” she puts a twang on the last word, “mmph. If I wasn’t with Tom...” 

“Right,” you look down at the drink and sip from the straw. You make a face and cough. 

“It’s not that strong,” she slaps your back, “don’t be dramatic.” 

“I know,” you clear your throat, “I just wasn’t expecting the taste.” 

“Let’s go upstairs,” she points above. 

“Uh, okay,” you agree to her sudden diversion. You suppose you really are boring. 

You follow her up the curved stairs and along the railing that overlooks the lower casino room. Arched windows let in the night and the glow of the facade. You lean on the polished wood and peer down at the first floor; it looks even more resplendent from there. You sister puts her elbow on the railing as she looks around. 

“We could stick around after, lose some money,” she says. 

“I don’t... mom only gave me a twenty and I owe you for the drink.” 

“Pfft, whatever, I’ll spot ya. Tom gave me some extra with the tickets,” she trills, “it’ll be fun. Play some black jack. It’ll be an experience. You could say you’ve actually done something.” 

You smile, closed-lipped and tight. She isn’t wrong. It’s your first concert, for some cover band, and your first time at a casino. It’s not an exaggeration to say this is the height of your life experience. 

Your eyes wander down and meet another pair. You wince. It’s that same man. He walks towards you, a certain swagger in his stride. As he peers up at you, his cheeks dimple and he winks. You wrinkle your brow and look behind you. When you turn back, he’s gone. Right, you’re imagining things. 

Roxie slurps as her straw turns hollow. She’s already drained her cocktail, meanwhile you’ve barely taken a sip. She stirs the ice and hums. 

“Wait here, I’m gonna get a refill,” she raises her glass. 

“Oh, I can come with you--” 

“Nah, just stand here,” she insists. “You’ll just slow me down.” 

“Sure, uh, okay.” 

You curl your shoulders inward as she walks away. Great. All alone. You avoid looking anywhere but your glass. You face the railing again and balance your drink on it. It’s not bad, tarter than you’re used to and a little burny.  

You play with the black bracelet around your wrist, the band they stuck around it when they scanned your ID at the door. You suppose it’s a good idea but they wouldn’t be letting kids in here, would they? Oh yeah, the hotel is attached. 

As a kid, you never went on vacations like that. No hotels, no casinos, no shows. It seems like Roxie is catching up on all of that and you’re just there. The world is so much scarier when it’s all a mystery to you. 

“Excuse me,” a deep voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking it’s merely a passerby, “miss?” 

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you barely save your cocktail from spilling over the edge. You clutch the glass with both hands and face the stranger. It’s that same man, with the suit and the long hair and the oceanic eyes. Something about him is familiar beyond your few earlier glances. 

“I think you dropped this?” He holds up a chip with a golden 100 on it. You blink and shake your head. 

“No,” you scrape out of your throat, “I don’t-- I didn’t--” 

“I swear I saw it fall out of your bag,” he looks down at your purse. 

“Really, I’m not... I don’t gamble.” 

“Ah, well, if it’s just hanging around, might as well use it, huh?” He keeps his hand out, “maybe it’s your lucky day.” 

“I couldn’t. If someone lost it...” your voice doesn’t want to go and he leans in to hear you, adding to the heat spreading through your chest. Is it the alcohol or him? 

“You’re sweet, keep it,” he shoves the chip toward you. 

“Please, I... I... can’t...” you wipe a hand on your skirt and clutch the fabric. 

“Doll, I can’t hear you,” he says as he grabs your hand and dislodges it from your skirt, “here.” 

He presses the chip into your palm. You stare at his tie then look down at the white chip with gold detailing. His hand brushes yours before he rescinds his touch. 

“Erm...” you murmur dumbly and shake your head. 

“My treat,” he growls. 

“But...” 

“Like the skirt, by the way,” he surprises you as he pinches a fold, “cute on you.” 

Just as quickly as he appeared, he strides away, leaving you blankly staring after him. His broad shoulders move beyond a thick marble pillar as you hold up your drink and the chip. You just look between them. 

“Hey,” Roxie approaches again, “oh, what’s that?” 

“A chip...” you state plainly. 

“Duh, I know. Where’d you get it?” 

You look at the floor. Would she even believe you? “The floor.” 

“Ooo,” she plucks it from your fingers, “awesome, “now we’re definitely having some fun tonight.” 

“Rox,” you swallow and look up at her, “we should hand it in. It’s a lot of money. If someone lost it--” 

“If they lost it, they can afford it,” she bobs her neck as she speaks, “live a little,” she sneers and taps your glass, “and finish your drink. Maybe that’ll loosen you up.” 

You nod and recede into yourself, cradling the glass again with both hands. You put your lips to the straw and drink until you can’t anymore. She gulps straight from the brim of her glass and sighs, wiggling as she peers around. 

“I almost don’t even want to see these old men play music,” she snickers as she takes in the expanse of tables flashing lights. 

“Oh?” 

“Relax, we’re going to see the show. You’re a horrible liar and mom will see right through you,” she sneers, “besides, I told her I wouldn’t get you in too much trouble.” 

[sagesolsticewrites]

Hi! I’d like to request a John “Bucky” Egan fic where he tries several times to flirt with the reader, but the reader is super oblivious about it and just thinks he’s being nice. It becomes something everyone on base talks about and gets invested in. Maybe other people set up a scheme to get them together or make the reader realize how he feels. Idk, just something funny and cute like that ig 😁

Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! I loved getting to write for our best boy Bucky 🥰 Shoutout to @blurredcolour’s Trust fic (an absolute masterpiece, check it out y’all!) for helping with the writers block on this one 😅 (Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Oblivious

“There’s my favorite nurse!”

You rolled your eyes at the phrase that announced John “Bucky” Egan’s every visit to sickbay.

“Hello, Major,” you said, turning to greet him with a mock-exasperated smile.

Bucky clutched a hand to his heart as if wounded, a hurt expression on his face. “How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Bucky, sweetheart?”

“At least a few more times, Major,” you reply, unable to hide a smile at the usual volley of friendly banter.

Major John Egan had been unusually friendly to you since the first moment he’d sauntered in to introduce himself to the medical staff as Air Exec. Your colleagues had blushed afterward and playfully insisted that he had paid you more attention than the others, but you just laughed and shook your head, insisting that he was just being nice.

This visit was simply another instance of Bucky being friendly to you; well, that and Harry Crosby’s airsickness had gotten the better of him again and he was checking up on the navigator.

You stepped aside as Bucky approached Harry’s cot, ready to update him on the goings-on since the last mission had returned.

He threw you a kind smile before perching on the stool next to Harry.

“How’s my girl treatin’ you, Crosby?”

Harry happily told him how the base had gotten a new shipment of airsickness pills and you had slipped him a spare box for his own personal use, and Bucky’s smile grew wider and wider.

You were glad to see how happy he was at the news that his friend was feeling better, and you quietly excused yourself to tend to the other patients.

Bucky sighed as you walked away.

“She still hasn’t picked up on it, huh?”

“No, Croz, she hasn’t.” sighed Bucky, “She thinks I’m just bein’… nice or friendly or something. Which I am!” He added hurriedly, “But I just…I like her so much. I wish she’d notice.”

“She will, buddy,” Harry replied, with a comforting pat on his friend’s hand, “She will.”

Bucky headed out after a few more minutes of conversation, giving you a wink and a smile as he walked past your station.

“Bucky visited again, huh?” Rebecca, one of your fellow nurses, sidled up next to you with a teasing grin.

“Yes, Major Egan came by to visit Lieutenant Crosby,” you replied, putting emphasis on their ranks.

“You’re sure that’s all he was here for? Somehow he never shows up here without an excuse to see you…”

“He’s just being nice, Becca,” you insisted, “You know how these soldier boys are.”

“But he’s always—”

“Becca,” you cut her off as gently as you can, “I really don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“Alright, alright,” she held her hands up in surrender, “Bucky is an off-limits topic, gotcha.”

The conversation turned to the current hot gossip, and you idly chimed in when it seemed appropriate, losing yourself in your routine tasks.

Rebecca broke off to check on Harry again, narrowing her eyes as she noticed Harry watching you.

“Something Nurse L/N can help you with, Crosby?”

He jumped, gaze darting to Rebecca as she approached.

“No ma’am, I just…”

He scrambled to think of some excuse, but all he could come up with was: “I’m trying to think of some way to get Y/N to notice Bucky!”

Rebecca blinked in surprise, then plopped down onto the stool next to his bed, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Oh thank goodness it’s not just me! He’s been at it for months but the poor girl’s just so oblivious…”

“I keep telling him to just talk to her like a normal person, but he insists on dancing around it!” Harry instantly agreed, glad to have someone besides Jean to talk to about this. “He’s been so distracted lately. If he doesn’t do something soon, I’m worried it might start to affect his flying.”

Rebecca pressed her lips into a thin line, twisting a strand of hair worriedly.

After a few moments of quiet, she spoke up again, green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’ve got an idea.”

———

“Hey Bucky,” Harry said at breakfast the next morning, “I’m gonna pop down to the infirmary to visit Winks, wanna come with?”

Bucky quickly agreed— he’d been meaning to check on Winks yesterday as well as Croz, but got caught up in… well, you.

As they entered, Bucky made a beeline for Winks while Harry caught Rebecca’s eye and gave a subtle nod, which she returned, signaling her part of the plan was complete.

She had removed the step stool you always used from one of the supply closets, now hidden under one of the cots nearby. When you weren’t able to reach something on one of the higher shelves, well…

Good thing Bucky was so tall.

“Y/N, would you mind grabbing some more bandages for me? My station’s running low.”

“Sure thing, Becca!” You called, stepping away from your current station to check the supply closet.

“Becca…” your confused voice called from the closet, “Do you know where the stepstool went?”

“It’s not there?” She called back, sounding equally confused. “Let’s see, um…”

She scanned the room, putting on a good show of looking for someone who could help.

“Oh, Bucky! Would you mind helping Nurse L/N grab something from the supply closet for me?”

“No problem, Becca,” came his reply, accompanied with his trademark winning smile as he nodded to Winks and made his way over to the supply closet.

It was much smaller than he’d anticipated, and barely half a foot was all that separated you as he asked, “Alright, what do ya need, sweethea—”

The pet name was cut off by the sound of the supply closet door closing.

And locking.

You lunged for the handle as Bucky reached up to turn on the single lightbulb, both of you calling out in confusion.

“Becca! What?”

“C’mon, guys, this isn’t funny!”

Harry’s voice came through the door, clear and determined.

“Just tell her how you feel, Bucky! Your tactic clearly isn’t working!”

“I— what?” You turned to Bucky, hoping he knew what in the world they were talking about.

Bucky hesitated, but seeing as it seemed he had no choice…

“Well this isn’t… exactly how I wanted to do it, but…” He took a deep breath, twisting his fingers together in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety, “I really like you, doll. I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you. And I’ve tried every way I know how to tell you, but nothin’ worked, so…” He gestured around at the supply closet, “I guess it came to this? Which wasn’t my idea, by the way. Just for the record. I would never…”

His voice faltered, and you realized just how close you were to him. You didn’t remember moving forward. You were just suddenly there, so close the two of you were almost breathing each other’s air.

“You… you like me?”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Doll, you think I call every pretty girl workin’ here my favorite nurse?”

You flushed at the compliment.

“I thought you were just being nice, I didn’t…”

“I mean, I was bein’ nice,” He said with a shrug, grinning, “Just not quite in the way you were thinking.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, and being this close to you, he couldn’t hide the bob of his throat as he swallowed nervously.

“I’d, uh. I’d really like to kiss you right now, if that’s alright with you, sweetheart.”

You nodded slowly, “I think I’d really like that, Major Egan.”

“It’s Bucky, sweetheart,” he murmured softly as he leaned in, capturing your lips.

You may or may not have spent more than a few lonely nights in your bunk imagining what it would be like to kiss Major John Egan.

Your imaginings were nothing compared to reality.

This was magic unlike anything you could have dreamed.

Your arms wound around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You toyed with the dark curls at the nape of his neck as he slanted his mouth against yours, deepening the kiss. Needing to be closer, you tried to step towards him, but merely succeeded in pressing him back against the shelves.

Ordinarily you would apologize, but something like a thrill ran up your spine when you felt him grin into the kiss as his back hit the shelves, knocking rolls of bandages and boxes of gauze onto the floor.

His right hand moved to cup your cheek, keeping your lips connected as his other hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as you arched into him.

You could still feel him grinning as he murmured against your lips, “Knew you were feisty under that good girl act.”

“Bucky,” you whined softly as he pulled away from you, chest heaving.

“Oh, now she uses my name,” he teased breathlessly, bumping his nose playfully against yours.

The two of you flinched as sunlight spilled into the dim closet, a harsh change from the dingy yellow lightbulb you had become accustomed to.

Harry and Rebecca stood in the doorway, wearing twin smug grins.

“Looks like our work here is done,” Becca said, shooting you a wink as she bid farewell to Harry with a two-fingered salute, “Pleasure working with you, Lieutenant Crosby.”

“Same to you, Nurse Carter,” Harry replied, and he turned back to the two of you, a genuine smile on his face.

“About time, Bucky.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky waved off his friend’s I told you so, “You gonna congratulate me or what?”

“Congratulations,” came Harry’s mock-put-out reply, accompanied by a genuinely congratulatory clap on his arm. “You got a good one. And it only took months of unsuccessful flirting—”

“Hey, I got her in the end, didn’t I?” He squeezed you closer, grinning down at you.

Your lipstick was all over his mouth, and you’re sure the Victory Red on your own lips was in no better shape.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care, however, as he pulled you in for a tender kiss.

Which you broke for a moment to point out, “He isn’t wrong, you know, it was months of unsuccessful—”

Your teasing was promptly cut off with a “shush” mumbled against your lips as Bucky silenced you with a kiss.

[seeingivy]

hair stylist

satoru gojo x f!reader

content: dad!gojo + megumi and tsumiki kiddos

an: a request from my beloved @luna0713hunter <3

--

“wanna take my mission today?” 

you momentarily look up from your current task - braiding tsumiki’s hair - to find satoru cheesing at you from the doorway, with a big smile on his face. 

“i mean, not really.” 

he pouts as he pads into tsumiki’s room, flopping down on the bed next to the two of you. you focus back on the ends of her brown hair, meticulously braiding every last strand into the fishtail braid tsumiki begged you to do for her. 

you remember the first time she came into your bedroom, her shy little eyes peeking into your shared bedroom with satoru on the first day of school. 

“y/n?” 

you turn around, gesturing for her to fully come into the room, as satoru gets dressed into his uniform in the bathroom. she shyly takes a seat on the edge of the bed, swirling a lock of her own hair in her fingers. 

“hi kiddo. need something?” 

she scoots closer to you on the bed and buries her face into the sheets, her red all neck against the white cloth. you bring your hand down on her back, rubbing soft circles into her skin. 

“hey. you okay, tsumiki?” you whisper, trying to stay as soft and quiet as you can. gentle, so she won’t run away. 

“yeah. i just wanted to ask you something.” she responds, her voice muffled. 

you wrap your hands around her wrists to pull her up, her bright pink face staring back at you. 

“canyoubraidmyhair?” she murmurs out, so fast you barely catch it. 

“huh?” 

she sighs as she lies flat down on the sheets this time, facing up. 

“every girl comes to school with pretty braids. fishtail, french, side braids. and i want to do my hair like that too but no one ever taught me how. when i was a kid, my mom used to do them for me so i never how to by myself.” 

at the mention of her mom, you immediately perk up, running to your room to grab your combs, elastics, and pins to braid her soft, brown hair into the half ass braid job you learned how to do in middle school. and when she looks in the mirror, excitedly running her hands over the braided locks with a smile on her face, it’s all the more worth it. 

“why do you want me to take your mission, ‘toru?” 

he readjusts his long legs onto tsumiki’s tiny bed as he looks over at you, one of his free hands swinging tsumiki’s french braid on the left in the air. you immediately smack his hand off her hair, which causes her to break out into a fit of giggles, as you look at him. 

“you always get to take the kids to school. i wanted to do it for once.” he pouts, now tickling tsumiki at the sides. 

“can you please take us to school? can we get milkshakes on the way?” tsumiki asks, the excitement rising in her voice. 

you lightly tug on tsumiki’s hair as the two of them start scheming on everything they’re going to do the morning of. make strawberry pancakes, listen to loud music on the way there, flip off that stupid traffic guard who always makes you guys late. 

“I didn’t even say yes yet, satoru.” you deadpan, the two of them turning their heads around towards you. 

they both have matching pouts on their face as they beg you, pleading with everything they’ve got. they’re both shaking your hands - claiming they’ll do the dishes for a week, clean the dirt they track in after baseball practice, give you a massage if you’ll take satoru’s mission so he can take them to school for once. 

“fine. i’ll take the mission.” you respond, the two of them immediately toppling over you on the beg to give you a hug and press wet kisses to your cheeks. 

– 

your phone buzzes in your pocket for the tenth time as you and nanami patrol down the halls of the abandoned penitentiary. 

“is that gojo?” 

“who else would it be, kento?” you sigh, yanking your phone out of your pocket to read through the texts. 

from ‘toru 

‘toru: attachment: one image

‘toru: megumi isn’t too happy about our change of transportation. 

‘toru: update, bought him a milkshake. he smiled for two seconds. i’m basically his favorite now. 

‘toru: nvm. he’s mad now. I accidentally honked at his teacher and called her a snail while the window was down. 

you zoom in on the picture, tsumiki and satoru cheesing in the front as megumi looks away from the camera, his line of vision focused on the view outside the window. you tuck your phone back into your pocket after hearting the image, only to see the curse directly to the side of nanami. 

he hasn’t noticed it either, too focused on the residuals on the wall, so you lean forward immediately pushing the two of you to the ground as the curse runs into the wall. 

you immediately scramble to your feet as nanami stands up, the two of you charging towards the curse on the left. there’s around four, the lot of them surrounding you. it takes you and nanami around twenty minutes to exorcise, leaving the two of you stretching out your bones when you’re done. 

“i haven’t done this in so long. i can feel my bones cracking, kento.” 

you reach down to touch the tip of your toes when you notice it. the chunk of your hair missing. 

you immediately bolt up and run towards the closest window and feel your heart drop when you see your own reflection. it seems that when you knocked nanami down to avoid the curse from hitting him, you nicked a reasonable amount of your own hair in the process.

“are you okay? did you hurt yourself?” 

“my hair. i think i cut it when i fell on the blade.” you whisper, still running your hands through the locks in the dark. 

“did you nick the skin? does it hurt?” he asks, cracking his knuckles as you take the veil down. 

“no. i didn’t even feel it. I think it’s okay.”  

“well, that’s good, considering all things. i’ll see you friday, right?” 

you give him a polite nod as you both turn on your heels, marking on your separate ways. and the despair of the entire ordeal sits in your chest as you drag your way home. 

– 

you shove your key into the lock, swinging the door open with your back. the apartment is filled with the sound of soft giggles as you pad into the kitchen, the three of them hunched over against the counter. 

tsumiki and satoru are making some mess of what looks like paper mache while megumi does his little galaxy puzzle on the counter, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. 

you push past them as you basically sprint to your bedroom to survey the damage in good light. you can feel the tears burning behind your eyes as you look at the mess on your head. 

the right side is still intact, coming all the way down to your normal length. but the left side, the entire mess is jagged and cut up to your shoulder. the mark isn’t clear cut, some of them closer to your shoulder while a few are still at their regular length. 

you hear a knock on your door and satoru pads into the room, his hands coming down on your shoulders and squeezing as he presses a soft kiss to one of your cheeks. he leans his head against your shoulder, eyes obscured by the fabric of your uniform as he murmurs into your skin. 

“how was the mission, love? hurt anywhere?” 

you wipe the wet tears on your face with the back of your hand as he lifts his head off your shoulder, immediately running his eyes and his hands on you to find the aching parts after your lack of a response to his question. 

“where? do you want me to bandage, you should go lie down and rest and you-” he murmurs under his breath, as he presses his hands to your arms, looking for a patch of red, purple, anything out of the ordinary. 

“i’m not hurt, ‘toru. sorry, i-” 

he brings his face up to yours, his eyes washed over in concern as he wraps his hands around your cheeks, his hands warm against your skin. 

“what is it? let me fix it, i-” he whispers, bringing up his hands to cup your face. 

you sigh as you wrap your fingers around his wrists, his hands still fixed on your face. 

“i knocked ken’ out of the way when we were in there and fell on my blade. i nicked like half of my hair off, satoru” you whine, the tears filling your eyes again. 

he lifts his hands up to examine the jagged cuts, his fingers carding through the locks. 

“no cuts. that’s-that’s good, love. you-”

you wrap your hands around his neck as he circles his own around your waist, rubbing small circles into the small of your back. he’s whispering soft words into your ears, the sentiment making you cry even more. 

“you’re still my pretty girl, you know that? we can fix it and you-” 

“satoru. I love my long hair. and i know it’s silly to cry over hair when i could have been worse but, but it’s-” 

“it means something, sweetheart. i know.” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your hair. 

you nod as you turn back to the mirror, running your hands through the hair. satoru reaches for the closest drawer on top of the counter, yanking out a pair of silver scissors as he gives you a smile. you give him a meek nod as you gather your hair at the back, for him to cut off the last chunks of your long hair.

except he takes the scissors and leans forward in the mirror to cut off his own chunk of hair, holding the white locks open in his fist. 

“what- satoru. what are you doing?” 

he swings open the door and calls out for tsumiki and megumi, as he shaggily messes with his newly cut hair in the mirror. he’s still taking some off the sides, his face scrunched up in concentration as the scissors move into his hair. tsumiki and megumi pad into the bathroom, their eyes wide at the sight of you two.

“what are you guys doing?” tsumiki asks. 

“haircuts. you’re both getting split ends.” he responds, so matter of factly that tsumiki and megumi run up to the mirror, running their hands through their own hair at the comment. tsumiki turns around to your side, brown eyes staring into yours. 

“can you do my hair short like yours? long on one side and short on the other?” 

you smile as you lift her up by the waist to sit her on the counter, running a comb through her hair as megumi nearly fights with satoru who is trying to do the same. 

“my hair wasn’t quite done, sweet girl. i can keep it as it is if you’d like?” 

“no, no. i want short hair like yours if you’re going to do short hair.” 

you can feel the tears burning in your eyes as satoru smiles at you in the mirror, mouthing “mama’s girl” as you reach for the extra set of scissors. megumi’s yelling at him for taking his eyes away for even a second while he has scissors in his hair, which has the two of them arguing with each other like there’s no tomorrow. 

you brush tsumiki's hair, the look on her face is so excited, as you snip the long strands of her hair out. she’s running her hands through her hair excitedly when you finish, even more excited when satoru starts cutting your hair to look just like hers. 

you switch with gojo, evening out the mess he made of his own hair and the hack job he did to megumi, until everyone’s hair is to the best of your doing - black, brown, and white hair sprawled all over the counter and the floor. 

“okay megs, miki. run to the bathroom, we’ll be right there to help you shower.” 

they both run out of the bathroom, their little footsteps dying out in the background as you turn back to satoru, whose pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“i like the hair, love. you look like one of those cunty moms who serves on a school board. gets her panties in a real twist over sliced apples.” 

you laugh as you run your hands through his shortened white hair, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of his forehead. 

“thank you for that, you-” 

“be quiet. i-i’m just taking care of you, love. you always help me clean up after missions, pressing soft kisses to all my bruises as i go to sleep. this is just me doing the same for you.” he whispers, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

you pull back and give him the biggest smile you can as you two lock hands to undertake your next mission. 

get megumi to take a shower without complaining the entire time. you already know you’ll be the one soothing satoru after this one.

--

taglist: @porridgesblog  @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[siddyyyyyyyy]

You're Only Sixteen

wc: ~4.6k

summary: child soldier joins task force 141 part THREE; part two, part one; part four

warnings: brief flashback, blood, violence, nightmares

a/n: I'm genuinenly happy how well this is going so far, I'm going to update the parts a bit more slowly for now, but I'm pretty sure I won't take too long on this. Probably. Enjoy!

This time, Ghost is leading the training for today. That just means they're no fun games like last time with Price, not that you were looking forward to it. Starting at the shooting range is like a warm-up for you, landing all shots while doing everything casually. Your reload is fast and precise, your aim is almost always perfect, and your technique couldn't be more clean.

Sparring was similar to the last time, but now you're paired up with Soap. You're both getting in your stance, knees slightly bent, one leg forward, and abdominal muscles tense. Both ready to fight, but this time without any weapons. Ghost specifically told him to strike first, wanting to see how long you can last or even win against Soap. It shouldn't be a big deal for you, even though he is quite a big guy, full of muscle, and slightly taller than you. You've mostly had opponents your size or bigger in field, and you never really had a problem winning or lasting long. Well, besides one person back in camp.

Soap strikes you first with a sharp jab to your side, but you dodge it quickly, hitting him back. You focus on your technique instead of winning, wanting to be strong against him. He seems to be focussing more on his technique as well, noticing how fast he works and his reflexes are. Your fighting styles are similar; the only difference is how you two use it in practice. While he's using more strength and power, you're trying to be quicker than your opponent and trick them.

You kick against his knee, and land some hits against his weak points, it's hard for him to stay balanced or focused. He huffs and stumbles back, only to rush to you quickly and try to tackle you down. With his amount of strength, it's difficult to actually stop him or dodge, having to think quickly. With a small grunt, however, you're down, with him trying to keep you like that. Your heartbeat speeds up and your eyes widen, your breath hitching in your throat. The position you're in is too familiar; trying to get out of it as quickly as you can. Soap is oblivious, just training with you and having tackled you down, keeping you pinned on the mat. Your brain is quick to handle, pulling out the same moves you did in camp. Soap doesn't even realise he's getting into a headlock by you at first. His back on the mat with your arm holding him tight around his neck, feeling how you're only squeezing him more and more with your bicep. He grips your arm and tries to relax, not wanting to get hurt. Luckily, that's all it takes for you to snap back to reality and let go. You sigh out heavily and stand back up, calming down.

»Ye alright?« He asks you even though he should be the one getting checked up on. You give him a weary nod, clearing your throat.

»Yeah, sorry about that.«

You mumble back and focus on not thinking back to the time in camp. It's almost confusing you now, how similar and suffocating it felt. But you know better than to think back to a time like that and distract yourself in training. Soap tilts his head with a confused gaze.

»What do ye mean? The headlock? Nah, that was sick.«

He encourages you with a thumbs up. You nod, unsure of what to say back. The training continues with trembling hands and more focussing on your breathing than technique, feeling on edge the entire time, thanks to the small trigger. Of course, no one has noticed these signs from you, or at least no one has said anything about it. On the other hand, you're glad no one has noticed your trembling hands and more or less distracted mind during the time.

Once it's over, you're headed to the showers and straight back to your bunk. That was more off-putting now that you're alone in your small room, thinking quietly to yourself about what had happened. You shouldn't feel this way, having thought you were over it a long time ago. Maybe it was something else that triggered you, or maybe you really aren't over it yet. Getting in a pin on the ground was one thing your past rival used on you as much as he could. You don't know the real reason behind his technique, but all you do know is how weird and creepy it felt like.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips once more, slumping down on your bed with no energy. Today's training was longer but not as exhausting as the one at camp. But you still feel very tired for no reason. You close your eyes and try to shut your brain off; instead, a lot of thoughts appear about your rival and that god awful training. You don't know why he's all of a sudden back in your mind. You don't know why you're thinking so much about it, and you don't know why you can't stop thinking about him. He was such an annoying and unpleasant person that you tried so hard to forget about, yet he can't seem to give you peace. Even when you're finally away from him.

After spending most of your day inside your bunk, trying to get your mind off old memories, it's time to actually try and do something about it. With slow steps, you make your way back to the training hall. It's dark out already, forcing you to walk cautiously around and not wake anyone. Eventually, you made it in and looked around for a punching bag… and something to wrap your knuckles with. You don't want to injure yourself after all.

It's dimly lit in the training hall, making it seem more cosy and relaxing. Especially with no one inside beside you. There are five punching bags to use in a row, but unfortunately no bandages or gloves for your hands. It is what it is, and you walk up to one of these punching bags to release some tension and stress. After getting into the stance, you land a few softer punches to get used to the feeling again. Maybe it's because you're alone in here, but it already seems too loud for you. Checking behind you, the double door is closed, so there's no way someone could hear you from their bunk.

You start again, using proper technique, and gradually become faster and put more strength into your punches. The punching bag suffers through your hard punches, taking it like a champ, all the while your mind zones out. Zoned out, all you can think about is your past rival back at camp. You don't remember his name; didn't even bother asking for it back then. But you do remember how creepy and annoying he used to be to you, for no reason. And that's enough for your punches to grow heavier and even quicker, the punching sounds are growing louder through the hall. Maybe your knuckles are hurting at this point, but you don't care. That bastard had no reason to treat you like that, leaving you confused, hurt, and probably traumatized.

It's only then when a gruff voice calls out through the hall, speaking to no one other than you.

»Didn't you have enough training for today?«

You stop in your tracks and turn around, seeing that familiar shadow again. Ghost.

Glancing down at your knuckles, you notice how red they look just from how hard you've been punching that bag for… how long already? You didn't keep track, but it seems like more than ten minutes, judging from your aching knuckles. Ghost has crossed his arms, glaring at you with tired eyes.

»Go back to bed, 's way too late for this.« He adds with a more weary tone and leaves no room for arguments, cocking his head slightly to the side. You sigh out rather disappointed, knowing you shouldn't talk back, but you also can't stop just now.

»But I just started...« You mumble and trail off at the end, already smelling how annoyed he is with you. He shakes his head, being as serious as before.

»I won't tell you again. Don't overwork yourself and go to sleep. Let your body rest. We've got trainin' tomorrow, too.« Ghost is not joking with you, probably being more stern than he needs to be. But he knows better than to let you work too much or stress over something for no reason. In his eyes, you're just a poor child who happens to have this fate and is forced to get along with it on your own. Too much alike himself. Eventually, your shoulders drop in defeat, and you nod in understanding.

»Fine. Sorry about that.« He doesn't respond back and just leaves, most likely going back to sleep, too. After considering his words and contemplating if you should just stay longer in here, you walk back to your own bunk like promised and fall against your bed. It's comfortable and quiet, dark as well.

But you notice a small med kit on your night stand, bandages and a cream for sore muscles beside it. You blink, thinking it's just your sleep catching up on you, but there is indeed stuff for you on that small table. Eventually, you apply the cream on your red knuckles and wrap them up, laying back on your bed. Maybe it really is just a normal base and rather peaceful. Maybe you could get used to this some time.

Having no energy to think any more about that, you fall asleep quite quickly this time. Even if you fell asleep quickly, it wasn’t a good sleep. A nightmare plagued you, most likely because of the trigger from earlier. A grey room with no windows, similar to your old training room in camp, several people around you, and loud noises everywhere. It’s incoherent nonsense, but you still understand everything clearly. The room is cold and rather dark for some reason; it all seems too much, but there’s nothing at the same time. Your body feels numb, and you’re wearing your bandages around your knuckles, some dried blood decorating the usual whiteness of the material. You notice it too late, but Mike has you on the ground already. The ground is even colder against your back, and you can’t do anything but lay and watch. He’s on top, which he often tried to do on you, and has your wrists and legs pinned tightly beside you.

Everything is so loud but also so quiet, it makes your ears ring. There’s a horrible stench of blood and sweat around the air, which makes it hard to stay still and fight back. Your moves are too slow, having no other choice but to stay like this. Your rival, Mike, slashes quickly through your throat, staying on top in a mocking way. It’s hard to breathe, you’re chocking on your own blood and squirming under him helplessly. The whole dream feels like a flashback, but worse. Too quick, too real.

You don’t remember much of what happened next, because the next thing you know is how you’re trying to control your breath and get rid of the sickening feeling from the nightmare. It’s not unusual you get dreams like this, but never to such an extent of being unable to breathe normally.

The digital clock on your nightstand tells you it’s time to get ready for the day. You couldn’t be more thankful for Ghost to lay the training into early afternoon instead of early morning. Because you know they’d notice if you showed up like this to the hall. Still on edge and tired, feeling as bad as you look right now. You keep trying to tell yourself that it’s normal to feel like this, hoping it’ll pass soon. Deciding to distract your mind, you go out to the park with your small sketchbook in hand. Maybe you will feel better in the fresh air while sketching something down that comes to mind.

But, of course, you never have a few minutes to yourself as a familiar figure comes by and stops in front of you.

»Drawing?« Gaz seems curious and tries to secretly subtly into your sketchbook.

»Sketching.«

»Ah. What exactly?« He carefully asks, knowing not to disturb a teenage girl when they seem peaceful at the moment. Gaz has past experience from his own family and friends, knowing how moody some are.

You hesitate to show him what exactly you’re drawing, and you just shrug in response.

»Just… anything.« That was a boring response to anyone, and he still wasn’t done disturbing your peace. He politely asks if he can sit by you for a while, sitting down on the same bench after you accept his kind offer. Gaz isn’t one to pry or mind someone else’s business, but today he’s really curious. Probably, because it’s been three days since you’ve been here and no one got to know you properly. Maybe they should work on their social skills instead.

»You sketch often?« Finally, he’s asking you about your hobbies. And finally, a normal question after years.

»From time to time.« That’s not true, you’ve been drawing since you remember and ever since. Drawing to kill time? Three pages full with doodles. Sketching something pretty? Two pages full with only that beautiful thing you saw earlier. Filling some pages to get rid of the anxiety? Done.

Gaz doesn’t quite believe your answer as well, noticing there’s only three pages left in there. Instead of prying more into it, he changes the topic slightly.

»So, what’re you drawing then? People?«

Without another word, you hand him your sketchbook, deciding it’s easier and probably faster this way. He takes it wordlessly and flips through the pages carefully. His eyes study the way you drew random people and objects, not having expected how good you’re at this. He glances at you before flipping another page, recognising the person almost immediately.

»Soap? You drew Soap?« You look down to his hands as he’s still holding it, seeing he found the first sketch of his teammate.

»I guess,« There’s no way out of this now, seeing he’s actually quite amused about it, »There’s more, actually.«

His smile widens, not having expected to see realistic drawings of his teammate. And there’s more? Today couldn’t get any better.

»More? You like drawing him or somethin’?« Gaz stops talking once he goes some pages forward, seeing some doodles of himself and Price. Even if it’s just some sketches or doodles, they look surprisingly well-made and semi-realistic. He looks towards you again, holding up that book of yours slightly.

»Can you draw Soap with a moustache?« Out of all questions he could’ve asked, he chose this one. Always picking the important ones. You need a full second to process what he’s asking before you find yourself speechless.

»What do I get for it in return?« Now, he’s the one without words. He considers for a moment as he tilts his head to the side.

»Depends on how well you draw.«

It’s then, when he can’t take himself seriously and chuckles.

»All jokes, I’ll get you a new sketchbook. Seems like this won’t do in a while.«

That’s a deal well struck with him. You can’t deny such an offer and start scribbling down a rough sketch of Soap, added with a moustache. Gaz watches the lines on the blank paper slowly resemble his teammate, grinning at the extra facial hair above his lip. It’s a sight to behold, being glad he could make someone draw a silly pic of this even more goofier SAS soldier.

Once you’re done, you show the page fully to him, and he can’t help but laugh at the drawing. Not because it’s ugly, but because it looks so much like him, and a moustache looks rather silly on his face.

»We gotta show it to him later.« You don’t see why not and nod, already seeing how absurd the situation will be later on.

After the more eventful interaction, it’s time for the usual training. This time, there wasn’t any difference in sparring, only feeling more tired than usual because of the nightmare last night. All you four did, was practice in the shooting range and go about sparring with Soap, leading with him improving your technique and showing some tricks. Of course, like no other time, you all went to the mess hall to eat dinner. You would have forgotten about the silly sketch of Soap if Gaz hadn’t reminded you beforehand to bring it over for dinner.

Sitting in front of the two teammates, Soap is laughing so hard that he’s clutching to his stomach. The drawing was really worth it, being amused at the sight in front of you. At least now, you could eat in peace without one particular person trying to get to know you better.

A familiar shadow appears in the corner of your eye, and you instinctively glance over. Ghost is approaching the table… with a Capri Sun? You look over once again, needing to take a double take to reassure yourself of what you’re seeing. And right, there he was, the scary-looking goth with a Capri Sun in hand.

It’s then that Soap also notices Ghost. Eventually, he stays standing next to the table and places the smaller but sweet drink on the table.

»Oi, what’s that?« The still amused scot questions him, as confused as you and Gaz. Ghost clarifies, finally not being an intimidating tree.

»Shitbox got me this instead of wa’er. Some of you can have it.«

Oh, so he can’t deal with a vending machine. If he weren’t your lieutenant, you would have made fun of him. Gaz nods and looks over to you after noticing you shift in your seat slightly. To him, it’s clear who wants it most. He wasn’t the only one noticing it, and Ghost shifts the drink towards you, mentioning it to you. Or maybe he just doesn’t think the two blokes deserve such a sweet drink and let’s you have it instead.

»You can have it.«

He grumbles before leaving for wherever he needs to go. It’s a bit weird to just receive something like this for no reason, especially from someone like Ghost. Glancing around, the two others seem normal about it, or they’re just good at hiding their real surprise. Eventually, you take the Capri Sun and draw in the orange straw into the packet. Oh, it’s cherry-flavoured. Your favourite.

Even when you thought your small happiness wasn’t so obvious, it turns wrong once Gaz speaks up.

»Taste good?«

You nod back in response and relax your expression as well as you can, not wanting to come off as too giddy for a sweet drink as such. They both grin quietly and continue eating with Price joining in after some time to eat beside you three.

----

It’s been a week there, and it feels less awkward now. You train and practice every day, sometimes sneaking in late at night to punch some bags. Capri Sun is something you get more regularly at lunch because Ghost can’t seem to figure out how to use the vending machine. In reality, he just likes to give you a small treat and see your eyes light up for a split second. It’s his small way to befriend you; it doesn’t matter if it seems silly or stupid, you appreciate it, and there’s no harm to it. You could compare it with an attempt to befriend a cat with treats, and it works well. Consider Ghost as a harmless guy who gives you your favourite drink- just because.

Gaz talks to you the most from the others, occasionally checking up on your new drawings and sketches, promising to get you a new one as soon as he can. He likes your drawings after all. He’s easy to talk to as well, having light conversations with you and a few jokes. Gaz is the most friendly and easygoing of them all for one. At least that’s how he is with you, but you’re sure he can be different too. Soap is as friendly as him, but for some reason you feel like you need to be careful around him.

The problem isn’t him, it’s no one’s fault, really. You know he’s just as nice and supportive, but it seems like the pin he did on you is still in your head. They can always out win you in a fight if you don’t pay attention, and the thought of it makes your skin crawl. Ignoring it most of the time, you trust them all equally. It’s better here than back in camp. If you can still call it that anymore.

Being here, made you realise how toxic it was back then. They don’t judge and punish you for making simple mistakes; they won’t even look at your scars twice or ask about them, and most importantly, no one forces you into something uncomfortable.

You feel safer.

Pushing the constant nightmares and headaches away, it really is more safe and peaceful here.

Today, after training, you cross paths with Ghost. You immediately notice that he’s carrying an almost comically large bag in his arms. Taking a closer look, you see it’s dry dog food. Dog food? Why would he need that? You never took him as someone with pets, and you never saw dogs around on base. Thank God you didn’t.

You nod briefly at him and can’t help it but approach him out of curiosity.

»Do you have a dog?«

He grunts, side eyeing you for a moment.

»Just gonna feed Riley. A K9.«

So, they do have military dogs. How come you never saw them? Back in the old camp, the dogs could roam freely on base. But they also weren’t really nice dogs, always barking and ready to attack anyone. Even you were once chased by a large German Shepherd, almost getting bitten if you weren’t fast enough.

You simply nod back, not sure what to answer to that. Of course, he could sense your shift into uneasiness and nudges your shoulder lightly while walking down the base with you.

»You should get to know some. They’re not scary, don’t worry.« That makes it better only for a moment before you fully process his words. There isn’t really a way you can deny his offer and nod slightly, following him wordlessly. He isn’t as talkative either, but you don’t think that’s a bad thing. You’re lost in thought once he speaks up, shifting the big bag of dog food into his left arm.

»Ever met a big dog? Anything?«

You’re standing outside his office as he asks, opening his door with a key while he waits for your answer.

»Kind of. Got chased by one.« He can’t help but pause for a moment at your blunt answer, eventually getting his door open and stepping in. You follow him in and close the door behind you, noticing a bigger German Shepherd sitting up on the ground. It’s tongue sticks out and seems to be happy about seeing you both, judging from it’s wagging tail.

The dog stays silent though, patiently waiting for their owner to give them some sort of permission. You stay standing near the door, watching the two silently, hoping it won’t do anything. Ghost puts the large bag down against the wall and steps closer to the dog, kneeling down as it happily walks to him and enjoys the few hat pats he gives. You watch them both interact, visibly relaxing slowly as long as the dog is near Ghost and gets fed, getting a few more pats from its tall owner. He turns to you and introduces you to the dog, his hand staying on the dog’s back.

»That’s Riley. A sweet girl- will be joining our next mission, as far as I know.«

That’s totally great. Yeah, sure, you could work with a big dog while having a fear of them. You nod either way, shifting on your feet as you watch the dog from the closed door. Riley munches on her food, seemingly content.

»She seems… nice.«

He can see how unsure you are about the dog, and he guessed he would need to get you used to dogs somehow. Ghost sits down beside Riley, nodding towards her.

»You can pet her. She’s friendly, won’t bite.« He is trying to loosen the tension with a small joke, only seeing how you glance at him before looking back at Riley. Eventually, you approach her with silent steps, being cautious of the still-eating dog. You kneel down beside Ghost, firstly just watching her with anticipation in silence. Riley is quick to realise you are close now too and lifts her head off the bowl of food, trying to get to know you eagerly. She takes a step towards you, and you stay still, not wanting to accidentally make her angry. Ghost beside you can’t help it but feel amused watching you be so stiff while also watching Riley to make sure she won’t make you even more scared.

Riley sniffs around the air shortly before leaning towards your hands on your knees, taking a sniff at them. Before you know it, she’s licking at them. You cringe at the feeling, leaning a bit away from her.

Beside you, Ghost grins under his mask, glad that you don’t seem to be scared and more amused at how you react to Riley’s sudden affection. Suddenly, the K9 is trying to lick at your face, but you turn away with a small groan. Ghost pets her on the back, commanding her to sit down for now.

It takes a moment for Riley to fully calm down, her tail still wiggling back and forth. Ghost hands you some treats and wants to show you what tricks this joyful dog can do. Riley follows his commands flawlessly, rolling over, laying down, playing dead, able to stand on her back paws for a few seconds.

You extend your hand to give her a few treats- the small cookies in shape of bones in the palm of your hand. She eats it out of there happily, probably having a blast right now.

Riley is a good dog, even when she wants to give you affection through licking your hand, which mostly feels weird, but overall she doesn’t overwhelm you like the past dogs in your life.

Ghost also seems to be satisfied with the end result, however, he couldn’t let go of your words earlier. Normally, he would mind his business, but this is a sixteen-year-old we’re talking about.

»So, you were chased by one?«

You glance at him shortly, unsure of how to explain it to him now. You try it out, explaining it to him as shortly as you can.

»We also had some K9’s on camp and I was chased by one because I wasn’t careful enough.« You don’t realise how shocking that sounds before he gives you a look of disbelief. He asks again, gently petting Riley behind her ear.

»Your own camp had dogs, and one chased you? Why’s that?« You only shrug in response, not sure yourself. The dogs were mostly trained to be aggressive and were held rather roughly.

»I believe they got extra trained to be as aggressive as possible.«

He only hums out in acknowledgement, letting go of Riley and standing back up. Every time he hears more about your camp it is when he loses five years of his life. You follow right after him, standing up and getting a last glance at the sweet dog.

»Go, get your shower.« He mumbles, reminding you of taking your shower since you joined him after training, finally able to rinse off your sweat. You nod and leave without another word, taking a quick rest before eating dinner in the mess hall.

a/n: Hope you had fun reading this, it was a bit longer than the last part. The next one is probably going to be just as long. I hope you enjoed it!

[pparadiselost]

carnal.

sakusa kiyoomi x fem reader sakusa physically can't get enough of you, pushing past the point of disgust. warning(s): nsfw, dubcon, slight yandere sakusa, overstimulation, sweat kink minors do not interact.

sakusa loves you too much. too much for his own good, to put it simply.

you have no issue with it. granted, he isn’t a particularly vocal lover. he doesn’t go around throwing himself at your feet to profess his love to you in the way that maybe his more energetic teammates might, but his affection for you is still there. it’s in the little things that tip you towards how fond he is of you. he makes exceptions about his strict life for you specifically, letting you prance around in his life in a way he would never tolerate from anyone else.

that isn’t to say you don’t appreciate his patience. something like that means the world to sakusa. you’ve seen the way he meticulously cleans his house until a speck of dust couldn’t settle even if it developed sentience and tried. he’s always the first person out of the black jackals team to get his vaccinations update, and his eyes shoot daggers at said teammates whenever they try to sling their arms around him or even get too touchy-feely with him after a hard-earned victory.

yet he doesn’t do the same with you. he lets you put your hands all over him, and he lets you smother yourself in his personal space as much as you want. you could probably come up to him with a bloody nose and demand that he take his shirt off to give to you, and if you caught him in a good enough mood, he might do it.

so yes, it’s safe to say that sakusa loves you, even to the point of compromising his lifestyle in order to get closer to you. you conclude it to be his undying love to you, manifesting itself in a way that might be a little more unconventional but still touching enough to make you swoon all the same. you’re not quite wrong on that; he does love you to the point of insanity.

sakusa is greedy, greedy to the point of ruin. that is what sakusa kiyoomi is.

he wants everything you have to offer him, and he wants to take beyond that. he wants the good and the pretty: the shy smiles you extend to him on secret dates, the way you wake him up with a quiet ‘good morning,’ the times when you call him just because you felt like talking to him. it’s all lovely and quaint, but he also wants to eat up the rest, the ugly and the primal. he wants to see you turn into a sloppy, dirty mess under him, to stain you with all of the messiness that he’s conditioned himself to avoid his entire life, to take you down into the metaphorical mud and to roll around with you until the two of you are entangled in a caked on mess that makes it physically impossible for him to separate from you.

he can only describe his desire for you in a way that makes his skin crawl with disgust, wanting you so inhumanly to the point his own body starts rejecting it. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“omi- no more-,” you gasp, pinned down on your back to sakusa’s bed. your head lolls helplessly against the pillow, and you barely have the strength to move your face to meet his eyes. your hair is splayed out all over his clean pillowcase, and sakusa’s ragged breath catches in the back of his throat when he sees how beautifully it looks. cum seeps out from between your thighs, and the white seeps all over your legs and drips down into a small pool underneath your ass, indomitable proof how thoroughly he’s ravished you. 

he just finished, just came inside of you, and yet the sight of his own cum drenching your body makes blood rush to his cock dangerously. he groans when he feels his dick hardening all over again, swelling up and demanding that he stuff himself back into your warm cunt like nothing happened.  

“ah- i’m hard again…,” sakusa mutters. his curly hair sticks to his forehead, the sweat that beads on his skin trickling down the sides of his face. his entire body feels slick and covered with it, and his throat constricts in on itself when he can see the sweat dotting your own body too. 

his cock throbs when he notices how much you must be overheating. already driven to the point of overstimulation after he came inside you once, twice already, pretty circular beads of sweat cling to your face and neck, and drops of it drip off of you in twinkling rivulets between your breasts and around your stomach.

the sight makes sakusa fucking shiver with a kind of deeply harbored need that lurches inside of him like a monster. 

you shake your head feebly. your eyes have lost focus a long time ago, and all you can register through your hazy mind is the presence of your boyfriend hovering above you. “n-no more, omi- i can’t take another round… ‘ve already cum so much, i-i can’t cum again!”

you look so gorgeous, it makes sakusa dizzy. his pupils are blown open wide with lust. he knows he should be kind to you and let you rest, especially when he’s subjected you to taking his cock mercilessly for two rounds already, but all his horny brain can think of is how much he wants more of you.

“i…,” he trails off weakly. this is bad. the sound of your weak voice and your already fucked out body shouldn’t be turning him on this severely. whatever little self control he has in himself is already wavering on the precipice of snapping, and the very last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

but god, fucking god—he’s never wanted anyone this astronomically badly in his life. 

a small bit of sweat trickles down your breast, settling in the valley in between your tits, and some monstrous instinct unconsciously clicks itself into place in the man’s depraved head. you cry out when he pounces on you, your wrists immediately captured by his big, calloused hands as he pins you down afresh against his mattress, effectively trapping you in between his bed and his muscled body.

“omi? wh- what- wait, what are you doing-?” your voice rings like wedding bells in ears as he ducks his head down. ice cold shivers pierce through your entire body when he buries his face in between your tits, and his tongue latches onto your skin, licking one clean stripe up and devouring your sweat.

heat and horror floods you, and you grab at his hair. “d-don’t do that, kiyoomi! it’s dirty-”

you stop mid-sentence when he raises his head at you. the look on his face is downright fucking sultry. his cheeks are dyed a beautiful shade of cherry blossom pink, and his eyes are blown wide open, staring back at you as if caught in the middle of a trance. his lips are swollen and puffy, undoubtedly from how much he’s tried to kiss you while fucking you just moments ago, and his tongue peeks from his mouth. he peers back at you with such pleading eyes that it steals the breath from your throat to see your normally uptight boyfriend in such a pathetic state.

“i need you so badly. you don’t understand,” he breathes, like he’s scared you’ll run away from him if he raises his voice even a little bit. “please, just one more time- i’ll make this the last round, i promise. let me have you the way i want you.”

you tremble as he licks at your skin again. the salty tinge of your sweat makes his skin crawl with delight. sakusa doesn’t particularly care for sweat that much; it’s the body’s natural way of cleansing itself, and as a volleyball player, it’s not like he has the luxury of being put off by it when he makes a living being surrounded by other equally sweaty athletes. but deep down, he’s cognizant that it’s his sheer obsession with you that makes him want to taste you to the point of muddling his own disgust, to lay his tongue on every inch of your skin so that you can’t hide a single thing from him.

you spread your legs slightly for him, and he gets his answer. you clench your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the bruising ache in your cunt when sakusa splits you open for the third time that night, praying desperately that your cervix won’t be screaming in pain tomorrow. he grips his cock, already slick with his cum and your juices, and your velvety hole happily welcomes his weeping tip.

“god, you taste too fucking good-,” he whispers as his tongue lavishes all over your chest. his mouth travels from in between your tits to your neck. he laps greedily at the sweat all over your skin there, flicking at the edge of your face and right where your pulse quivers underneath the skin of your throat. 

he forcefully pushes himself in all the way with a grunt, and when you throw your head back in a silent scream, his sharp teeth grazes over your jugular. you’ve never felt this vulnerable before. 

“ah- hurts, omi- you’re so big…!” you cry out. you don’t know what’s gotten your boyfriend this particularly depraved tonight, and you don’t know how he still manages to retain his disgustingly huge size even after having fucked you to full orgasm twice. “s-stop licking at me…! i’m sweaty, i’m gross!”

“gross? you? gross?” he’s quick to respond, and his tone is sardonic, as if he can’t believe that you’d call yourself such a thing. you could never be gross in his eyes; sakusa can’t get enough of you in his mouth. he thrusts rapidly into you, already setting up a horrendously brutal pace that has the bed squeaking loudly in protest.

mercilessly hot pangs of arousal squeeze their way through your core. your stomach twists itself into painful knots. the absolute pain of overstimulation battles with the oppressive need for more that settles in your cunt, your drenched and semen-slicked walls sucking in sakusa’s cock. he groans, his deep voice making you clench up around him. 

you can’t deny him, ever. not when he’s begging so prettily for you, not when your own body feels like it’s going to turn to putty. it feels good, being pushed to the limit feels good, and the erotic sighs and gasps that come from you only spur him on more. he knows you’re feeling good, and even if it hurts beyond comprehension, he’s going to make sure he engraves that neediness deep into your soul.

it’s the only way you can start to understand the absolute fucked up selfishness in his brain.

his mouth captures your nipple, and he sucks, his tongue tracing over your sensitive bud. you moan, and you buck your hips against him, forcing his dick deeper into you. you feel like you’re choking on your own breaths, his cock burying itself over and over into your worn out cunt, making the pliant muscles of your walls contort to mold to the shape of his dick. 

“too much, omi, you’re doing too much!” you’re sobbing, tears dotting the corners of your eyes and falling from your face. they stain the pillowcase underneath you, and sakusa is nothing short of enamored. the tip of his tongue expertly flicks at your hardened nipple, and he times his rapid thrusts so that you feel them exactly at the same time to their fullest impact. your womb careens and threatens to succumb to the pleasure. no matter how much you squirm or thrash against the sheets, sakusa keeps you firmly trapped under him.

it’s cute, how you think you can escape his advances. it was your mistake from the beginning to let him worm his way this deeply into your heart. now your body has to pay the price for your foolishness, and he’s determined to pleasure you so intensely that you physically can’t live without him. the thought makes his chest tighten and swell with happiness.

he briefly lets go of your nipple, and he grins darkly up at you. “i’m doing too much? i’m barely doing anything. what, are you telling me you can’t take it? you’re the one that gave me permission to do so.”

“you’re being too rough- don’t suck my boobs and fuck me at the same time! i’ll cum again!” you whine. your toes curl into the sheets as he bucks his hips against you. wet noises of your bodies colliding fill the room, and all you can make out over the dizzying haze of sex are the sounds of your pussy getting fucked by him. he’s making love to you like an animal, as if holding himself back will destroy him.

“do it then. do it. cum on my cock. cum from how i’m making you feel,” he drawls. you grit your teeth, barely holding back another pathetic moan as his tongue draws circles over your chest. his body is stifling against yours, and the heat has you struggling to breathe. sakusa maintains his steady yet wild rhythm, his balls smacking against your ass, desperate to fill you up with even more of his cum. the semen that he’s already emptied inside of you lurches against the insides of your womb, sloshing around in you and dripping out from your cunt. it smears everywhere, and it acts as a kind of lubrication for him. 

you’re just making it too easy for him. your body doesn’t have the means to offer any resistance against him, and all sakusa has to do is keep you in place as he wrecks your cunt as if you’re his personal fleshlight. your pussy won’t quit rubbing up all against his length, your wet walls being everything his cock has dream of. you’re sucking him and jerking him off and writhing all around him, overwhelming every one of his senses with how perfect you are.

his tongue continually laps at you, covering your chest with a sheen of your sweat and his spit. it’s downright fucking filthy, enough to have you recoiling the best you can while being forced to take more and more of his length. you feel so stretched out despite having already taken him earlier than night, like your poor hole can’t fully adjust to his girth no matter how many times he fucks you.

it’s like something unholy has possessed sakusa. he’s all over your body: licking, groping, fucking, touching. no matter how much he stares at your face contorting in pleasure or how much of your taste fills the crevices of his mouth, he can’t get enough. the knot inside of his stomach tightens in on itself. his cock throbs inside of you, wanting you to be carved with his presence from inside out.

the arousal mounting inside of you is nearly blinding. you thrash helplessly, shaking your head back and forth against his pillows. “‘m gonna cum already, omi- slow down…! can’t stop cumming- can’t- can’t take any more of your cock! you’re ruining me, omi- omi, kiyoomi, please!”

“i want to ruin you,” he laughs. “did you just figure it out now, silly girl?”

he isn’t sure if you can hear him through how much he’s fucked you dumb. your words don’t sound like your own and more like echoes of his own thoughts, ripped straight from the part of his brain that wants to trap you in like a bird ensnared in a cage. 

“your cock’s ruining me- it feels too good! ‘m gonna cum on it again, gonna cum again- omi, you’re gonna make me cum again! i can’t do it, i can’t- wanna cum- too much- omi, help me…!” you pathetically sob. you don’t know what your body wants. the overstimulation has your brain fucked out and dumb, feeling too heavy to be anchored to earth. but your cunt won’t let go of his dick, determined to have him tear another orgasm out of you. the flutters that echo and shake inside of your core demand it, demand that you hand over your body to him one more time, have him cement you as his for yet another time that night. 

“make up your mind,” sakusa exhales. he isn’t actually giving you the freedom to choose between stopping or continuing, because he’s going to force another orgasm out of you one way or the other. “you want me to stop? is that it?”

your voice dies out in the back of your throat when you feel your boyfriend slow his thrusts down, only sliding in and out of you at a snail’s pace. your lower regions scream at you, frustrated at the sudden lack of stimulation. your cunt curls in on itself, the unexpected emptiness of not having him thrusting and filling you up with his length forcing you into shock. 

you shake your head again, crying even louder at your own frustration. “don’t stop- ‘t hurts, but don’t stop… your cock’s too good, i need it- give it to me again… i wanna keep going- i need to keep having sex with you, omi…”

“that’s what i thought. you need me, don’t you?” he lets out a small airy chuckle before he slides himself back into you fully, speeding his thrusts up until he’s relentlessly pounding into you again. you arch your back against the bed, moaning out his name and going back to squirming futilely underneath him. his hips keep meeting yours, and he can’t seem to get enough of this sloppy union with you. the one time where you shut out the world to focus only on him, where your bodies come together as one, a sort of holy reverie that sakusa never wants to wake up from.

his mouth itches to taste you again, to take your into his mouth. he wonders if biting into your flesh will help, fill his mouth with you, overwhelm his senses with your presence. your sweaty body keeps rubbing against his, and when you tilt your face to the side to eke out another cry, he buries his face into the crook of your neck. 

“omi- make me cum, kiyoomi-,” you pant out as he sucks on your ear. his tongue swirls around the shell of your ear, his teeth hovering over the thin skin as if he wants to bite into it. he does, he wants to bite you and mark you and have his mouth overflow with the tang of your blood. but he’ll be good, just for you. he knows something like that will make you scared of him.

you shudder faintly when his tip prods at your cervix, kissing your cunt’s deepest part. the noxious taste of your sweat echoes all around sakusa’s mouth and nose, and the more he inhales the scent of your drenched hair, the more it turns him on. he wants to cum inside of your warm cunt again, and the arousal that thrashes wildly in his stomach spurs him on. you’re close, your pussy clenches and flutters around him the way that it does only when you’re at the brink of orgasm. 

it makes sakusa incredibly happy to know how long he’s kept you there this round. he’s memorized every aspect of your body accurately, devoted himself to learning you and pleasuring you perfectly, refusing to let his loyalty to utter stubbornness slip even more so when you’re thrown into the equation.

he jerks his hips forward harshly than he’s done before, determined to fuck himself deeper. you let out a strangled scream when his cockhead rams straight into your g-spot. the paralyzing pleasure that shoots straight into every crevice of your body has you stiffening under his touch, and sakusa grins with a sadistic satisfaction into your hair. you can’t see him, but he can feel the way your pussy recoils and struggles around him, clamping down on him suddenly. 

“found it.” he inhales shakily, and you’re left sobbing and mewling out incoherently as he proceeds to pound nonstop into your sweet spot. over and over again, from all the angles he can hit, until you go from thrashing wildly to free yourself to accepting the fact that you have no option except to take the fucking he’s giving you. 

you surrender to the pleasure that rips you to pieces, your brain succumbing to the feeling. “c-cumming, omi! cumming, cumming, i’m cumming- ahngh…! hah- oh fuck, fuck, omi- cumming…!” 

your cunt practically attaches itself to his cock, squeezing him to what feels like death before something warm rushes over his dick. your orgasm doesn’t hit you like a truck or strangles you entirely; it sneaks up on you like a shadow, and you’re consumed with the feeling of being shoved underwater. you struggle to breathe properly, wallowing in the waves of your own climax. it’s dull, and it hurts—you shouldn’t have kept letting him fuck you, and now you’re paying the price of the torturous ache that spreads all throughout your body.

you cry yourself through your high. you’re reeling as if you’ve been shocked. the heat claws painfully at every inch of your skin, and the soreness that blooms inside of you is living proof of sakusa’s loving handwork.

the man on top of you grunts, grinding down on his teeth when he feels your pussy milking him through your orgasm. he genuinely struggles to pull himself out of you; the sheer force of your cunt clinging to him nearly has him buckling at the knees. sakusa manages to keep thrusting through your climax, enjoying the wounded whines that you pant out. you peer up at him weakly, your eyes trembling as a bead of sweat trickles down the bridge of your nose. your hollow gaze meets sakusa’s fiery one.

something inside of him snaps.

he cums with a gritted cry, and you immediately feel the added pressure that mounts inside of your cunt. his cum spills everywhere, and he fucks himself through it, making your legs shake around his hips. he slams himself down into you harshly, his tip kissing the entrance to your womb as he desperately tries to stuff another round of semen as deeply as he can into you.

the pleasure for him is nothing short of blinding. the only thing he has on his mind is how delusionally in love he is with you, and he swears to himself at that moment that he’s never going to let you slip through his fingers. god, he thanks the stars at the fact that you’re this willing to let him love you, otherwise, there’s no telling just how drastic he might have gotten to prove his heart to you. 

“kiyoomi…”

he collapses on top of you, barely stopping himself from crushing your already spent body with his entire body weight. he presses his forehead against you as he inhales shakily a few times, just to calm his frantic heart. the reflection of himself in your widened eyes looks more like a feral man than what he’d normally expect out of himself. he’s aware that his now softening cock is still stuck inches deep into your flooded pussy, yet as he lets himself rest on top of your body, sakusa really doesn’t have it in himself to pull out.

“d-don’t you want to clean up?” you sound so small when he releases your wrists. there are marks on your skin, indicating where he held onto you for dear life, not wanting to let you go for even a second. you don’t run away from him; instead, you wrap your arms around him and hold him even closer to you. 

much to your surprise, he shakes his head. he can’t bring himself to talk to you just yet, relishing the afterglow and the aftermath of his cruelty and his love. it’s dangerous, and it constantly demands to consume him whole, to make ashes of his whole spirit and to burn you alongside it. sakusa knows he should tame the untamable part of him that demands more and more from you, yet he can’t bring himself to fully put a muzzle on it. a placid sakusa kiyoomi wouldn’t be the same man that fell in love with you.

for now, he lets it run rampant. he lets you take the hit, lets you console a haunted version of him. it’s nothing like his icy facade, the clean polished part of him that he personally shines and sharpens like a knife pressed to the world’s throat. with you, he can be as disheveled and disarrayed as he wants, and you’ll let him feed you the scraps, chewing it up and swallowing it down as if he were the most perfect man in the entire universe. he desires nothing more except to metaphorically devour you whole, until you become an inseparable part of his very being. you love him, through all of his grimy and unkempt obsession.

and by god, is it so, so messy.

KINKTOBER 2023—le quatrième jour.

[as-is-yours]

happy 2024 summer olympics!

some tog watching the olympics hcs for the soul because i love the olympics and i decided they do too:

andy competed in the ORIGINAL greek olympics. yes she did

with the guard being as competitive as they are, the olympics are a BIG deal in the safe house - it’s like the football world cup but all day every day for three weeks straight

it’s obviously too dangerous for the guard to attend the olympics these days with all of the cameras and media, so they hunker down in a safehouse and watch as much as they can on TV

they used to go most years though, nicky even told nile that he considered competing in olympic shooting back in the mid 1900s but it was too high profile to risk it

quynh was in the ocean when they brought back the olympic games as we know them today. her first olympics year back with the guard she asks andy why everyone is clothed and where the victors wreaths are

nile LOVES the olympics so she fits right into the dynamic when the first olympics of her time with the guard roll around

she was a little nervous about coming on too strong that first year, but when she saw how hard they roast each other and how much they goaded her into being just as competitive and aggressive as they were, she settled in easily

they would later regret unlocking that part of her once they realize how painful watching the olympics with an american is

nile keeps a scoreboard on the wall next to the TV where she updates the medal counts daily and reminds everyone who’s winning (the usa)

joe, quynh, and booker prefer the summer olympics while nile and andy prefer the winter olympics. nicky is just happy to make some money off of booker when france loses, no matter the season

“andy im getting us a peacock account to watch the olympics, they’re starting next week” “peacock account? what the hell is peacock? like the bird??”

there’s ALWAYS a bet going on. for the full duration of the olympic games there is never not a bet going on

nile will be doing joe’s dishes for a month after kaylia nemour beat suni lee in the uneven bars final

booker owes nicky €300 after italy advanced out of the first round of the women’s doubles tennis tournament (france did not) and another €1000 for italy winning the gold medal

andy stays out of the betting for the most part, or just picks the best athlete rather than one representing her home nation

“andy, that’s cheating—” “the scythians were nomadic. i don’t even remember where i was born so i’ll pick whichever athlete i damn well please, and you—” “okay, fine! we get it!”

andy found quynh wandering in a desert, quynh doesn’t really remember where she’s from either so she picks her favorite athletes based on vibe and which countries were her favorites to travel around with andy

there aren’t nearly as many north african athletes as there are italian, french, and american so joe starts adopting the athletes with the most heartwarming comeback/underdog stories as his faves

i feel like nile LOVES usa gymnastics having been a teen watching gabby douglas and simone biles!

that girl was SAT for every gymnastics event cheering on team usa like it was her job

andy has broken her neck attempting to pull off the stunts she sees in olympic snowboarding, gymnastics, skateboarding, figure skating, etc…. but sometimes she nails them. and it’s sick as fuck

nile is from the midwest i know she’s an ice hockey enjoyer. she pregames the winter olympics by making the guard watch miracle (2004) (nicky cries)

booker makes a drinking game for watching the games. he prints out the rules and pins them up next to nile’s medal count. take a sip when an announcer starts yelling, a shot when a random celebrity is shown on the broadcast, and finish your drink when a medalist cries

whenever great britan places below one of the guard’s countries, copley receives a very vulgar and unsportsmanlike text from them

no, quynh does not watch swimming events. thank you for asking

the couch is NOT a safe space. anything goes during the olympics. anyone who gets too mean (or whose athlete loses) can and will be pushed off the couch and exiled to the armchair

i will surely update this as the olympics continue and my friends and i get up to more hijinks. stay tuned and enjoy the greatest sporting event ever conceived

[hazelfoureyes]

Hate mail?

A very misguided edgelord child, or very damaged and lonely adult, seems to be harassing members of the larger hazbin community (not just our HDC)!

Here’s how to respond to these my dearest GN!Does:

0)Screenshot the inbox (optional, see step .5)

1)Report them

2)Block them

0.5)Send Hazel the screenshot and exactly how you WANTED to reply and we will laugh at them and then pity them together (optional, ig, but Im a messy bitch and I love reading these really dumb messages)

In all seriousness, seeing people delete blogs or go inactive from hate mail is just… gut wrenching. Tumblr has provided me such a massively needed community and source of acceptance when I’m terribly lonely and isolated so far from home and my native tongue. I can’t imagine any of us losing that over… well, clearly a child. (If these aren’t children then they are very very pathetic adults so desperate for attention yet too unlikeable to muster kindness they have write the most uninspired hate messages. And on anon? A coward at that 😂)

Luckily, I have a terribly thick skin (scarring does that ✨)

But for the days you are vulnerable, or your skin is running thin, or the words happen to hit a chord, you’re welcome to reach out to me.

If *you* are someone who is also a safe person to turn to, feel free to sound off! Let’s circle the wagons and protect each other. 💝

Yes, they can make more accounts. But every time they have to make a new one is time they aren’t able to harass someone else.

꒰১Fallen Guardian Angel’s of the HDC List*໒꒱

People safe to reach out to when these hit you too hard or just to vent and laugh at the sender (let me know if you want to be added, always keep your mental health and peace in mind):

@fraugwinska ✧ @hazelfoureyes ✧ @zzzykiek ✧ @dewdropdinosaur ✧ @afallowedfawn

This post is linked at the top of my pinned master list if you want to see an updated list! Reblogs don’t show changes to the original post

*again, adults only added to this list. Your life is hard enough at under 18 you don’t need to be taking on the stress of adults. Feel free to start a group amongst yourselves if you really want to be someone’s safe place, but I don’t want to send stressed and possibly trauma dumping adults to a minor.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 11 . Nothing More, Nothing Less (4)

a/n: double update this week because i got a perfect score on my all-or-nothing oral quiz last night hehe. also, this was supposed to be 2 installments only but I keep making things longer than when I first storyboarded lol

tags: feelings in progress, trying to break out from an abusive mentality, crying, fluff, remember that healing is not instant and takes time

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Everyone dispersed to do their own thing when they got back home. Of course, they did this after they made sure that _____ was inside their room and properly resting.

The healer complied with everyone’s wishes, how could they not when Choi Han was practically guarding the door? However, they were starting to feel restless and bored. Back at their old home, they were never told to rest for this long.

It was the opposite actually.

Everyone back there wanted them to get back in action as soon as possible. It doesn’t matter how bad they feel, _____ is expected to get back to work after 5 hours max.

Knock

Knock 

“Cale-nim asked if you feel well enough to join him for dinner.”

Good thing Choi Han gave _____ an agenda before they die of restlessness.

“Please tell the young master I’ll join him.”

The swordmaster inspected the healer first before nodding. Looks like _____ passed Choi Han’s detector and is deemed well enough to have dinner in Cale’s room.

It was an invitation for dinner but the Medicus knows that its real purpose is so that Cale can have a serious chat with them.

_____ already knows their fault.

In Cale and everyone else’s eyes, they acted recklessly. It’s _____’s mistake that they didn’t inform Cale that could handle that much. Then in turn because of that miscommunication, some things were hindered and they lost manpower for a short while.

To put it another way, _____ hindered everyone’s work.

For that, they were sorry. They didn’t mean to be deadweight that had to be carried around.

_____ told themself that they’ll tell Cale they won’t repeat the same mistake when they have dinner.

…things didn’t go as planned.

When the healer tried to explain that they certainly could handle more than what they did in the Whipper Kingdom Cale only sighed. Then when they tried to say sorry Cale frowned.

That’s never a good sign.

But _____ can’t think of what else they did wrong.

It didn’t help that the children averaging 8 years old also have the same expression.

“You know that I’m trash right?”

“Huh? Uhm yes, I do.”

_____ knew the rumours that labelled Cale as trash, but they didn’t know why it mattered right now.

“Right and as you know someone trash is selfish.”

The healer has no idea where this is going. In the first place, Cale was far from selfish. He may be opportunistic and a little manipulative but everything he did was for the betterment of others.

“Because I’m selfish I don’t care whatever happens to other people. My priority will always be me and my people first.”

_____ still has no idea where this is going.

“That means you, you rascal.”

Cale poked _____’s forehead, straightening the lines of confusion that had formed.

“You’re one of my people. You have been since that day you agreed to leave the City of Life with me.

Meaning, you are my priority. Meaning, I will not tolerate such dangerous and self-sacrificial actions from you.”

On looked at Cale as if he had no right to talk but the redhead didn’t notice it.

“And so in the future, I hope you can promise to never do anything that will harm you again. I don’t need promises of you doing better, I just want to know that you won’t get hurt this severely from healing other people...”

Plop

Plop

Cale who had more to say stopped speaking.

How could he not when he saw _____’s tears?

The same _____ who had a neutral expression after almost dying.

The same _____ who just nodded and moved on after realizing their family had abandoned them.

The same _____ who still had a poker face despite shaking from their nightmares.

That same _____ is now crying.

And it looks like they didn’t even notice they were crying.

_____ only noticed their tears when they picked up the two kittens that had been pawing their arm. After they did, the two took it upon themself to paw away the tears streaming down their face.

It seemed to have the opposite effect though.

Not only did it not stop the healer’s tears it actually made them cry more.

_____ couldn't stop the tears from flowing no matter how hard they tried. After a few seconds of trying they gave up and asked Cale a question instead.

"Cale-sunbae are you never mad at me? You never yell or punish me even though I keep messing up and is essentially useless to your group of experts..." 

Cale feels as though he is gonna have a heart attack from all the surprises because of _____. 

Are they being serious? 

How could Cale get mad at them or think of them as useless when their abilities are so useful? 

Just the amount of money they've saved from using fewer potions because they have a great healer was already amazing. Then there's the ancient power that makes them a living detector. Because of that ability, everyone found it easier to navigate the plants and monsters inside the Forest of Darkness.

How could someone amazing be deemed useless?

This was certainly because of the trash that adopted them.

Cale is going to make sure he fucks them up sooner or later.

But for now, the young master is going to make sure _____ understands their worth.

“I don’t take in useless people. I only take in people that can pay for their meals.”

The redhead used his personal handkerchief to dry the healer's tears.

As he did _____ could feel that warm and fuzzy feeling they felt back at the Whipper Kingdom come back. However, they ignored it in favour of listening to Cale’s words.

“Remember, I personally asked you to join me, to join us. Have you ever seen me make the wrong judgement?”

Cale is definitely tooting his own horn.

But hey if it makes _____ understand.

And it looks like it did because _____ shook their head no. Then they stayed silent as they stared at Cale’s handkerchief. As if they were absorbing the weight of his words.

Cale deemed it enough for now. He knows that _____ will have a hard time reversing everything they’ve learned. It won't be easy, but Cale is willing to go at _____’s pace.

Later that night Choi Han knocked on Cale’s door to report something.

When the swordmaster entered the room the first thing he noticed was how none of the children were with Cale.

“They’re in _____’s room. They said something about making sure that _____ doesn’t cry again.”

Was Cale’s short answer when asked.

“_____-nim cried?”

Choi Han couldn’t believe it. Just what did his Cale-nim say to someone as expressionless as _____ that it made them cry…

“Check on them yourself if you don’t believe me.”

That’s exactly what Choi Han did after he finished his report.

Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t because he didn’t trust Cale’s words. It’s more because he wanted to see if the healer was doing better now.

The black-haired man knocked on the door and Raon answered by opening it using mana.

It’s dark in the room but Choi Han has no problems seeing everything. As he scans the room he sees the children averaging 8 years old lying down on _____’s bed. The two kittens are already asleep just like the healer, leaving the black dragon to be the only one awake.

Choi Han smiled at the sight. The children didn’t look any different aside from the fact they were sleeping on _____’s bed instead of Cale’s. At the same time, it looks like _____ themself is sleeping peacefully.

The swordmaster checked everything one more time to make sure he didn’t miss anything before closing the door to let the four get their well-deserved rest.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: nice to see ya again!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Thor makes himself as permanent as the layers of sediment. Whether you’re in the dirt or looking over the charts and maps, making notes or sorting through your findings, he appears. Knowing he’ll be there keeps you coming yourself. Despite the short nights and long drives, thinking of him finding an empty site deters you from a day off, even against Sam’s pleas. 

The night before was filled with similar chiding from your friend. Sam is as persistent as ever. He always has a new account of his antics with Bucky and never forgets to tell you to take a break. You can’t stop though. You know if you do, you’ll have to think about everything you’re denying. 

The time away has given you time to breathe but it’s suffocated you in new ways. Along with that weight on your chest that has a name, there’s another you can’t quite understand. The one that sees you spending your spare hours alone and your working hours longing for anything but. You’re desperate to get out but terrified of the very same. 

When he arrives that day, you’re ready to give up. The tension in the air is giving you a headache and the dampness makes your skin feel sticky. You just feel gross. 

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d brave the weather today,” he muses as Thunder hops around his feet. You don’t look up, in a mood as grim as the sky. “You’d do well to stay in tomorrow. Trust me.” 

He’s always right about the weather. It must be the familiarity and yet it’s almost eerie how accurate he is. You might take his advice. You don’t like being wet and you’re starting to go cross-eyed from the hours and hours of concentration. 

Thunder yipes as you use your gloves to brush away clumps of dirt. Thor’s footsteps mulch patches of grass that sparsely carpet the dirt. He hums as his shadows looms in your peripheral. 

“Yes, my darling, I believe you’ve found the perfect spot,” he praises. 

You look over curiously. What is he talking about? You only notice then that he has more than the tiny dog with him. He has a basket on his elbow and a blanket under his arm. You sit up and watch him place down the former and shake out the latter.  

He spreads the blanket over the dirt and Thunder jumps onto it, rolling around on the fabric, digging her nose into the patched quilt as she wiggles across it. You clap off your hands and watch him as he gets down to his knees and flips open one side of the basket. He lays out several containers and two thermos’; one is the very same he brought you tea in.  

“I thought you could use a nice lunch before the weather turns,” he stands and nears the fence, “summer doesn’t last long here. You may as well enjoy it.” 

“Lunch?” You utter. 

“Brunch?” He suggest coyly. “Surely you can take a break. You are only human, you need to eat.” 

“You...” you lean to see around him, “you brought me lunch?” 

“I know it isn’t the most elaborate picnic but I thought it might be a pleasant surprise. I must confess I’ve been rather bored these days,” he admits, “so?” 

“Thor, that’s so... sweet,” you frown, “but...” 

“Work, work, work. Surely they can’t expect you to work yourself to the bone, pardon the pun,” he insists, “it will only be a bit.” 

“Yes, but...” you leave the sentence to hang. You don’t have a good excuse. You don’t know. It just makes you nervous. It’s a whole lot of effort for just you.  

“Oh, I don’t mind if you would rather stay over there. Only mean more for, eh, Thunder?” He asks the canine tramping around the blanket. “More than happy to sit here and enjoy my jelly cookies and hot coffee. 

“Coffee?” Your brows raise. 

“Freshly brewed. Promise, There’s nothing pickled. Though I don’t mind a nice herring,” he grins. 

Thunder bounces over and barks at you. She stands on her hind legs as she paws at the barrier between you. Now, how can you deny her? 

You stand and shed your gloves. You carry them over to the table beneath the tent and grab a wet wipe from the back. You come back under the open sky as you wipe your hands. 

“Sorry about all the dirt,” you scoff as you cross the dirt. 

“I don’t mind,” he assures you. He pulls apart the panels of the fence to let you through. It isn’t something you could ever forget but you can’t help but be stricken again by his sheer size. 

You bend to pet Thunder as she gets between your feet. She licks your fingers and you giggle. She’s cute. 

“Go on, pick her up,” Thor goads, “she loves it.” 

You scoop up the dog and stand. She squirms as she wags her tail incessantly. She swipes your chin with her tongue and you scrunch up your face. You carry her to the blanket and look over the spread. A leafy salad, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies... There’s so much. Your protein bars and peanut butter and jelly can’t compare. 

“Oh gosh, this... a lot.” 

“Is it? Isn’t too much. We’re friends, yes?” 

“Friends?” You face him as you pet Thunder’s soft head. 

“Perhaps it is rather one-sided. You are obligated to be here, I just sort of haunt this place,” he chuckles. 

“No, no, friends,” you smile, “that sounds about right.” 

You turn away and lower yourself onto the blanket, sure to keep your boots off of it, as you hide your face. There’s a tinge of disappointment. You hear a far off echo in your head. How many times did Steve say the same; we’re friends, just friends, you’re such a good friend. Well, that’s all this is. No need to be so sensitive. 

“Do you ever take time off?” He asks as he gets to his knees. 

You look at him as you put Thunder down. He barely keeps her from chomping down on a rye crust. He lifts her easily and she kicks her legs. 

“Eh, you beast,” he points a finger at her snout, “be good.” 

He sets her back on her paws and she obeys. He tells her to sit and she does so. Her eyes continue to hungrily rove over the food. How can he resist them? 

“Like you said, the weather won’t last. Should get done what I can before the ground gets cold.” 

“Ah, yes, that is a concern,” he tuts, “how would you deal with that?” 

“Heat lamps, tiger torch... jackhammer if I really need but I’d have to put in a request for that...” you hadn’t thought too much into the inevitability of winter.  

“Ah, that’s...” he smirks, “I’m sorry but the idea of you with a jackhammer,” he snorts. 

“Hey,” you pout. 

“It isn’t to be mean but... you’re so gentle. When you dig, you’re so delicate about it.” 

“Am I?” You wonder. 

“Mm, is it a bit weird to say so?” He wonders aloud. “Yes, you are very precise, very cautious.” He takes out a set of plates and offers you one, “please, help yourself.” 

“It must be boring watching. Really, I’m the one digging and it gets dull,” you accept and pluck out one of the sandwiches. Salmon, you think. 

“You make it interesting,” he muses. “You talk to the bones.” 

“I talk to the bones?” You repeat, “what?” 

“Yes, I suppose you’re not aware of it. But your lips move when you’re focused. As if you’re chatting up the dirt,” he chuckles, “sometimes a few words do slip out.” 

“They do?” You blanch before you can help yourself to the salad. 

“You don’t say much. Usually something about the dishes, I’m not too sure.” 

“You never mentioned,” you look away shyly. 

“It’s... cute,” he shrugs. 

“You mean crazy,” you shake your head. 

“I say what I mean,” he counters. “No use in not. We can’t be happy if we’re not honest, not least of all with ourselves.” 

You’re quiet as you turn your attention to your plate. His words feel sharp despite his placid tone. You know it’s only because they’re true, especially for you. If you’d just accepted everything sooner, if you hadn’t been so dumb, if you hadn’t been so emotional, it would never have gotten so bad. No, if you’d just been honest. 

“I hope... I hope that didn’t come off wrong,” he says. 

“No, no, I’m... this all looks so good and I’m starving,” you assure him as you sit back with your plate. “Thank you again. This is... great.” 

“Well, I was thinking, you must miss your friends. I might be a paltry substitute but I thought i might fill that gap, even just for an hour.” 

“It’s really...” your eyes tingle but you push away the tinge of sadness, “it’s really nice.” 

“So tell me,” he scoops up salad onto his plate, “tell me about home.” 

“I...” you begin, surprised by the prompt. “It’s just home. New York. It’s busy and loud. Not like here.” 

“No, not that. Your friends. I want to know all about them. If I’m ever going to come up standards, I’ve got to know the competition.” 

You laugh. He speaks as if he needs to impress you. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you’re not that special. You take a bite of the sandwich and chew, thinking out your question.  

You swallow, “well, my friend Sam, he calls every night to bitch at me. He’s great. Supportive but pushy. He likes to terrorise Bucky. He’s the strong and silent type, you know? Grumpy to boot but they’re... they’re awesome.” You smile without thinking, “before I left, they took me to this cocktail bar...” you blow out between your lips and roll your eyes, “real girly stuff.” 

“Ooh, cocktails. I’ve been known to indulge. I love finding new recipes.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes, I love the sweet ones. I’ve only just perfected my blueberry basil concoction. I’m afraid I can’t share the secret ingredient unfortunately.” 

“Blueberry?” You ponder the flavour, “sounds yummy.” 

“Perhaps one day you can try it,” he suggest. 

“Maybe,” you say evasively. “Anyway, yeah, Sam and Bucky are... characters.” 

“They sound like it. How’d you meet?” 

“Oh, it’s boring. What about you?” 

“It’s not my turn,” he deflects, “tell me.” 

You don’t know why he cares. It’s as confounding as everything else about him. You still don’t get why he’s here watching you sit in the dirt. It sounds as grueling as watching a golfing tournament, in your opinion. Yet here he is, a man who looks like that, staring at you in your mud-stained khakis. 

“College. We met through a mutual friend,” you explain vaguely. 

“Ah, so you’ve been friends for some time. Yes, I see, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he hums thoughtfully as he toys with the braid that hangs loose by his face, the rest of his hair twisted back as always. 

“Steve,” you say without thinking, your eyes drifting off into the distance, “he was my best friend. We met in art history. We spent almost every day together. Studying, whatever. He was more of a partier than me but... fifteen years, more than, and we saw each other...” You choke on your words and scoff darkly, “sorry, that’s... I’m homesick, I think.” 

You bat away the glaze in your eyes and focus on your food. You take a few bites as he sits quietly. Thunder stands up cautiously and crosses the blanket. She settles against your leg, leaning her head on your thigh. It’s comforting. 

“Yes, I think I would be very homesick as well. I lived in the city for a while but mother and father, they need me. And I love this mountain. It’s home. There was nothing in Oslo for me. I can work from here.” 

“Work? What exactly do you do?” You ask, happy to divert from your own painful past. “Oo, are you like a farmer? Or a shepherd. There must be sheep up here or something.” 

He laughs, “there are some sheep, yes, but those are protected by the government. We’ve not much of a choice where they settle. No, I’m not so savvy as all that.” 

“Hm, you... oh, what could do you here?” You look around, “on a mountain... oh, tours? Do you give tours?” 

He laughs, “it’s not a bad idea, but no. I’m a business owner.” 

“A business. You must sell fitness or something.” 

“Must I?” He narrows his eyes, “and what else do you assume about me?” 

“Oh, it’s only you’re so...” you cringe as you eke out the word, “big?” 

“Genetics,” he affirms, “not that but close, in a matter of looking at it. You recall that tea I brought you, with the cloudberry?” 

“Uh, yeah, it was sweet. Yummy.” 

“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he smiles proudly, “I make superblends. All Nordic ingredients. There is a demand for wellness and organic products. I found the right niche and I’ve not done too badly.” 

“Must not if you can live all the way up here,” you remark. 

“Yes, but... it’s a reason I moved back. Business is a lonely venture. Now I’ve got it all figured out, I have my managers and my business plan, I break even, I realise how much I put to the side,” he mulls his sandwich and takes a glum bite. It’s the first time you’ve seen him anything but bright and beaming, “I feel like I’ve fallen behind. Like I’m playing catch up.” 

His words sink in and storm inside of you. You crunch on the crisp lettuce and gulp. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and clear your throat. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” you say breathily. 

“Do you? You’re out here, on an adventure all you’re own, how brave,” his voice is wistful and his gray blue eyes reminds you of the clouds above. 

“Yes, I know,” you say, “better than you. Trust me.” 

You smile, a bittersweet tug in your cheeks, and he stares back at you. Your eyes cling to each other and you feel as if the world is moving around you. He smiles and a glimmer of something unfurls in your chest. You make yourself look away. 

“Well,” you push the salad around your plate, “what about you? You must have friends, aside from the girl in the dirt.” 

He hums and scrapes up a bite of the pasta salad. He takes his time chewing before he answers. You scratch Thunder’s nose as she sniffs at your plate. 

“Yes, if you ever come to sample my cocktails, you might meet a few,” he coaxes, “I think you’d get along. Hogan and Vol, and Fandy. All good company. Sif’s not around so often when my brother’s around but he’s as fleeting as the sun.” He tuts, “I would call Loki a friend as well but he does scowl at the very thought.” 

“Loki?” 

“My brother of course,” he explains with , “yes, he is quite the dour one. He might get along with that Bucky.” 

[fairykazu]

my doors always open ft. dan heng⋆˚☆˖°

cw: pinning, best friends

masterlist

although it is late at night, dan heng is aware of your antics of accidentally scaring yourself at night, scrolling through your apps at night, and then crawling into someone else’s room out of shame.

usually that someone is him.

it’s around the time you scrolled on tiktok for way too long, you knocked on his door like a stray cat begging for food, “dan heng?”

dan heng was already up, waiting for you, or studying the archives and updating the contents. “come in, name. you know that my door is always open for you.”

the door slid open as you trudged in with your blankets dragging on the floor. he adjusted his glasses as he asked, “what kind of video were you watching this time?”

flopping onto his bed, dragging your blankets with you. “some guy owning haunted dolls and he was speaking to them.” you said with a shiver. dan heng hid a laugh,

“fun?” he noticed from the corner of his eye, your face changed before replying,

“terrifying! i dont understand how stelle was able to handle them.”

dan heng rolled his eyes, rolling back his chair towards the bed, “im pretty sure they’re different creatures. one being a mythical being and the other possibly faked.”

you rolled yourself into a ball, “still scary either way!”

“okay, sure.” dan heng rolled back to his desk, placing his red glasses down. “show me the video. now i want to see how scary this being is.”

“but i dont wanna see it again!” despite your words, you opened the app again, favorited in the collection called “show dan heng.” though he wouldnt able ever see the name of the collection, he does feel special that you exclusively show him.

he walked to his bed, tucking you in with your and his own blankets just before sitting on the edge. the video was someone adopting a shipped order of dolls from one of his fans, saying that the fan didnt want the dolls anymore.

“the dolls seem not haunted but spirits are tethered to the doll.”

“so?”

“it was not their choice staying there. does that make you feel better?”

“not really, now i feel bad for them. also a little still scared of the dolls they live in.”

“that’s fair. now do you want to watch your favorite sitcom to get over it or sleep right now?”

“…hmmm.” you hummed, deciding a choice even though the both of you went through this routine before. “i choose-”

“let’s sleep. we can watch your favorite show tomorrow.”

“promise? you said that yesterday and we didnt get to watch it today.”

“yes, i promise.” dan heng said with a quiet snort. you nodded just before you drifted off to sleep.

bonus:

dan heng sneaked onto your phone just to watch the videos himself, laughing a little out of giddiness from seeing that he had a collection just for him.

clicking through the videos, he watched about ten of them, mumbling and taking notes.

“huh, seems kind of scary. i need someone to make a debunking channel.”

in the morning, dan heng kept his promise to watch the show with you as long you see this new and viral account on tiktok, it being a debunking story for videos you just saw.

[thisfrailheart]

prompt: rescue + kid fic | july 23 + 24 | wolfstar meet-cute au (with teddy! :D ) | teen and up | word count: 745 | @wolfstarmicrofic

***

"And then what happened?" Remus asks, glancing down at his son with a chuckle.

It's the first nice day in a while and they had decided to brave the short walk to the playground. The moody weather had kept them inside for almost a week and Remus is ready for some fresh air. And for Teddy to finally get rid of his excess energy.

"And then Josie said that her brother said that he has a friend who has a dog with a blue tongue! Can you believe it! Blue! Have you ever seen a dog with a blue tongue, dad?" Teddy tells him excitedly, gesticulating wildly.

"Blue? Really? That's amazing!" Remus replies, smiling.

Teddy's nods are enthusiastic. "Yes! Can we get a dog with a blue tongue? Or maybe a chameleon? Their tongue is really long! That's how they catch their food. What's for dinner tonight, dad?"

Remus laughs as Teddy skips ahead on the sidewalk, not actually waiting for answers. He remembers being so scared as a first time parent, holding that tiny baby and worrying whether they would ever get the hang of parenthood. We did pretty well, he thinks. Even if the rest didn't work out.

Shouting from Teddy shocks Remus out of his reverie. He looks up to see his kid pointing at a tree in someone's front yard. "Dad! Dad! There's a cat! Look! We need to rescue it!"

Remus comes to stand next to Teddy, peering into the foliage. "Teddy, I'm not sure it needs help. Sometimes cats climb for fun."

"But it's so small! And Mum always says that people who can help, should."

"Well, Mum is right." Remus sighs, trying to figure out what to do. The cat does look quite small and is meowing at them now. "Uh…let's ring the bell and ask if it lives here? Maybe this is what the cat does every day."

He's barely finished the sentence before Teddy is sprinting up the steps to the house. Remus runs after him, lifting him up so he can ring the doorbell. The door swings open to reveal a man about Remus' age. He's wearing a grey shirt and jeans, both covered in paint splotches. There are little flecks of paint on his face and in his hair. And he smells good. Remus bites the inside of his cheek.

"Excuse me, do you have a cat?" Teddy asks.

The man shakes his head. He looks from Teddy to Remus, confused. "Why?"

"Sorry to bother you. We were passing by and saw a cat in your tree. Teddy thinks it needs help but we wanted to ask first."

The man's face falls. "Oh no! Poor cat! I'll get a ladder!"

He immediately disappears into the house and returns with a ladder. Chuckles when he sees Remus' bewildered expression. "I'm painting." He points at his clothes with a grin. "I don't just keep a bunch of ladders in the house. Lead the way, Teddy!"

Teddy whoops and hurries off with the man, leaving Remus to stare after them in wonder. Who is this man, throwing himself into a rescue mission alongside two strangers?

Remus is even more surprised to see them succeed. Within minutes, the man has positioned the ladder with Teddy's help, climbed it with Remus' and coaxed the small cat into his arms. He steps off the ladder carefully, lifts the cat into the air triumphantly and sings a horrible version of Circle of Life. Teddy giggles. "It's so cute! Can we keep it, dad? It doesn't have a house."

"Oh, uhm…" And Teddy's puppy dog eyes almost get to him. But the man jumps in to help - again.

"How about this: I'll take it to the vet to make sure it's okay and then it can stay with me."

Teddy pins him with a calculating stare. "Forever? You can't give it away. Ever."

"Of course not! You're welcome to visit the cat any time. Make sure I'm doing this correctly," the man promises. "Maybe your dad can give me his phone number so I can keep you updated?" He winks at Remus.

Teddy immediately starts begging. "Can you, dad? Please?"

He sighs dramatically, not wanting to admit that he'd love nothing more. Especially not in front of the kid. "I think that would be fine, uh-"

"Sirius," the man offers with a grin.

"I'd like that, Sirius. To see how the cat is doing, of course."

Sirius laughs. "Of course."

[colibrie]

Mosaic Moments

Prompt 3, Leo: Not made of stone.

Art by @trilobitepunch

3. Not made of stone (Leo, Casey Jr, brief Donnie cameo)

"Woooowe! Now that was a great run!" Leo exclaimed, chest heaving gently as he skidded to a stop. His muscles throbbed with a pleasant burn, chest gently heaving with the welcome effort of exertion. A thin veneer of sweat cleansed his skin, gently pulling at the slight breeze that blew by the roof.

"Hah yeah," Casy huffed as he came up from behind, face flushed and hair stuck to his face. The humans thin shoulders jumped as he folded over, hands braced on his knees as he sucked in deep breaths of air.

"You good bro?" Leo asked, only half teasing as he stretched his arms above his head, casually nudging Casey Jr with the side of his foot. "Way you're sucking wind someone would think you were the one stuck in bed for over a month and a half."

"Hey, not all of us get to be freaky strong mutants," Casey shot back, a broad grin taking any away any heat that may of existed as he pushed himself upright. "You definitely don't run like someone whose been bed ridden. Then again, you always did heal fast. It was useful for the resistance but it drove uncle Tello and Master Michelangelo crazy trying to keep Sensei in bed long enough to meet minimum rest standards."

The shift was barely perceptible. If he hadn't been raised by older versions of the turtle he was sure he would have missed it. The suble tightness that crept into the corners of Leo's smile, forcing them wider in a way that was to plastic to be genuine. The way the light in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly, even as he let out the perfectly light chuckle to cover.

"Yeah, future me is like six kinds of amazing. Must have been a crazy time."

"It was the apocalypse," Casey replied slowly, mentally trying to make sense of these shifts.

Had it been mentioning sensei? In the aftermath of the Krang invasion Leo had initially had a hard time hearing Casey mention his future counterpart. But they had worked through that. They had talked, under the cover of night when the rest of the lair had been at rest. He'd apologised to the younger turtle for putting so much pressure on him. Leo had accepted with apologies of his own, and had eventually coaxed him to give more details about his life with sensei, stories both good and bad. They'd laughed, they'd cried. They were good...weren't they?

"Must all seem pretty tame now in comparison," Leo said casually as he leaned into his stretch.

"Yes and no," Casey responded, watching carefully as he pushed his hair away from his face. "There's certainly less explosions, and the lack of zombie krang chasing us on our morning run is nice. But other things are crazy. Like how rich everyone is. Uncle Tello used to tell me stories about it, and he had a million folders of ideas and inventions that he'd imagined but lacked the materials to make. Seeing how easy it is to get things here, I get it now. He'd be over the moon, and probably lock himself in the lab for a whole year!"

There. A slight flinch, shoulders hiking a few centimeters up towards his tympanum.

"Heh, once an egghead always an egghead I guess. Anyway, we should-"

"Leo, what's wrong?"

"Uh...Nothing?" Leo replied questioningly. "I mean, I'm kinda hungry. Wanna swing by Run of the Mill on the way back? We can-"

"I thought we were past lying to each other," Casey challenged, a tiny bud of frustration building beneath his ribs as he pinned the turtle with a look.

"I'm not lying Cas, everything is fine now, right? Apocalypse averted, city is in repairs, everyone is healing, and Donnie finally paused updating the security system long enough to eat something other than caffeine and applesauce. Everyone is happy."

"You're avoiding my question. Master Michelangelo said you'd..."

He did not even need to look for the flinch this time. Leo turned away.

There was something here he was missing. Something in his words. But what? It wasn't like he'd never told red eared slider about the future. About the family he'd lost.

About Master Michelangelo.

About Uncle Tello.

About how...

"They all die!"

His heart hit the floor, stomach doing flips as he stared at the mosaic of barely healed pain spiderwebbed across Leonardo's shell. They had talked about a lot of things in the aftermath of the apocalypse, but they had never discussed what had happened in the tunnels beneath the tower. About the fate he'd revealed.

"They all die!"

"Every single one of them."

"The world needs Master Leonardo, and all we have is this guy."

"Leo, I... I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what man? Everything is fine." Leo replied, voice smoothly polished. He did not turn around.

"I've been talking about the future this whole time and..and we never really talked about it like that."

"Sure we have. You were telling me about it yesterday."

"I was talking about Sensei yesterday," Casey corrected, "we've only discussed the...others... once."

A falling pin could have sounded like a gun shot in the quiet that followed.

"There's nothing to talk about there," Leo said eventually.

Gone was the polish, the glitz and the glamorous glow of humor. Leo's tone was flat, a blank slate for this single fact to be engraved.

"I think there is," Casey replied carefully, biting his lower lip hard as he sought the for words that would fix the situation. "The way I told you about what happened to them was... not ideal..."

"Hey, you did what you needed to do to get the message through my thick skull. I don't hold it against you Casey. "

"Yeah, that's partially why I did it. But...I think I also did it because I was mad at you."

The atmosphere between them felt tense enough to explode, and Casey found himself tripping over his words in the haste to get them our before the fireworks could begin.

"I was angry at you for not being Sensei, and I was scared that I was going to fail the mission he and Master Michelangelo sacrificed everything to give me. The mission that could make uncle Tello and Raphel's death mean something. I threw their deaths in your face, and it was...I didn't mean to... I didn't think it would still be effecting you this badly..."

"You didn't think learning my whole family died because of my stupidity would effect me? Jeez Casey, I know I'm an self-centered idiot sometimes, but I'm not made of stone either. "

The words were light, but underneath them was brittleness, fine cracks poised to shatter at the next misstep.

"No!" Casey panicked, desperately backpedaling for the a way to sooth the hurts he'd intentionally and unintentionally afflicted. "I just meant that-"

The soft beeping of Leo's com cut him off mid sentance, and the young terrapin answered it before he could regather his scrambled thoughts.

"What's good Dee?"

"I need to go to the junkyard for some parts, but Raph won't let me go alone incase Repomantis "shows up for a showdown". To appease him I volunteered you for the buddy system. Tell Junior to head home and meet me there in ten minutes," Donatello replied, his voice that perfectly painful bend of familiar irritation, excitement, and affected disinterest.

There was something else there too. Something Casey had never had a name for beyond donnieandleo. He'd grown up hearing donnieandleo in good times and in bad. In the early hours when Sensei would grumble and drag the soft shell into his own bed to ensure he got at least four hours of uninterrupted rest. In the curses that had flown from his uncles lips when he'd fought to keep Sensei from bleeding out after amputating his arm. It was like a secrect code that only they could speak, one that remained uncracked up until the day his uncle had died.

Whatever Donnie was saying now, Leo read loud and clear.

"Fine, but you owe me a smoothie after. Extra large."

"Says the guy who still owes me pizza for that bet from last week."

"Uuuugg fine, but I'm gonna need some serious food to make up for this. On my way."

"Leo, we need to-"

"Sorry Case, duty calls," Leo cut in, never looking back as he walked towards the edge of the roof. "You head back and get some lunch. I know Mikey has a new recipe for you."

"Leo stop! Just let me explain."

"No need. Heard it loud and clear, I promise."

[asterias-record-shop]

BINGO: friends to lovers w/tasm!peter parker

Prompt 17: "Do you think they heard us?" "Yes. We did."

reader & peter having a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of thing going on for a while/just so much pinning with stolen stares, hugs that last too long, the other boiling with jealousy but never saying anything because it’s not their place.

then it all just comes to a breaking point where one of them is acting off/distance and they have a fight about it until they confess to the other that they’re in love with the other and it hurts too much to be around them and that leads to smut 🫶🏽

—𓆩[will they, won't they]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, angst, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.3K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter had a more… complicated friendship. Best friends since childhood and ever since then, you both have always danced around your feelings. You finally decide to drop your feelings for your best friend after he starts spending more time with Gwen Stacy, and decided to go out on a date with one of the jocks from school and pull away from Peter, unbeknownst to you him, Gwen, and some more of your best friends are planning a giant date proposal for you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - I gave y’all some extra friends cuz y’all don’t have enough- || you definitely know about him being Spider-Man, and your friend group || you have glasses now! (During studying) || he accidentally blows you off for Gwen but with good reason! || cursing and foul language || you think Peter likes Gwen so maybe a little bit of angst but it’s resolved quickly || yeah no maybe a bit more than a little bit of angst- || made up OC that’s a jock and you go out with him smut warnings: sex with people in the same house as you, Peter is a fucking munch no one can change my mind, more experienced reader x less experienced Peter, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, creampie 

“So, we have her favorite flowers booked, we have her favorite food, anything else?” Gwen looks up from her clipboard that was meant to make her look more professional. She and Carter, a guy that pushed his way into your friend group, along with Alia and Jamison, all had a bet on when the hell this was going to happen.

Gwen placed two weeks, and Alia was already out because she said three days, while Carter said one week and Jamison a week and a half. The winner would have your child named after them; it was a good bet.

“Do we have her favorite songs lined up?” Peter was chewing on his thumb, anxiously walking back and forth on the roof of his apartment. “And-”

“Peter, you’re overreacting so much,” Gwen says laughing, holding up her clipboard. “I already have everything ready! You have no need to worry about anything, I got the flowers, the lights, the food, everything! It’s going to be perfect.” She looks down at her watch, nodding. “Now, it’s almost eight-”

Peter quickly looks down at his phone, gasping. “Holy shit, I was supposed to meet Y/N at seven for movie night! I’ll see you later, Gwen, thank you!”

He grabs his bag, jumping off the roof and shooting a web out to catch him.

“Go get her bug boy!” Gwen yells as Alia comes behind her, biting into one of your favorite candy bars.

“You think they’ll fuck?”

“I highly doubt it.”

It didn’t take Peter long to get to the fire escape of your apartment, settling himself onto the railing to watch your scrunched face stare down at a physics worksheet. You mumbled softly, flipping through your notes and pushing up your glasses before slamming your head down onto your desk.

It makes Peter wince as you groan loudly, quickly pushing up your window making you look back with a gasp. “Y/N, I’m so sorry I’m late, I was with Gwen-”

“Peter, what are you doing here?!” You whisper yelled, quickly standing and pushing against his chest. “You need to leave! Now!”

“What? Why?” He looked down at his suit, more specifically where your hands were on his chest before he heard more footsteps. “Is someone here?”

“Peter, leave! Now!” You pushed him out the window, quickly closing and locking it before shutting the curtains.

“I brought us some snacks!” A voice says, Peter peeking into your room in the slight exposition of the curtains. “So, strawberries or cheese? Or both, like in Ratatouille?”

You giggle, walking toward the form, Peter almost growling when he saw Henry’s pretty face and blond hair. “You know, strawberries and cheese aren’t that bad. I’ve tried it before.”

“Oh yeah?” Henry laughs. “How about we watch Ratatouille and reminisce instead of doing physics?”

You laugh. “Oh, I wish. What about we get some work done and then we watch Ratatouille?”

Henry nods, plopping onto your bed in the same space Peter always did making his fists clench. “I’ve never been good at physics.”

You giggle, shaking your head as you spin your chair around. “Me either.”

He hummed, rubbing his chin. “What about your friend? Parker? He’s good at physics, isn’t he?”

Your eyes flicker toward the window, Peter raising a brow as he nods his head in agreement. “His name is Peter,” you stand, quickly shutting the curtain correctly. “And yes, he is sickeningly good at physics.”

“Why don’t we call him up?” Henry opens his binder, humming. “I’m sure he could help.”

Your brow ruffled when the doorbell rings, quickly standing. “Who could that be?”

“Let’s hope it’s Peter,” Henry laughs as he follows behind you, your pretty apartment organized chaos.

When you open your door, your face falls when you see Peter in his clothes, obviously messy like he changed coming down the stairs (which he did, thank you), a smile on his face. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Peter!” Henry says, smiling. “You’re here!”

“I am,” Peter tries not to make his voice sound completely and utterly annoyed. “Got a sense that someone might need my physics powers.”

“Well, your sense was wrong,” you said immediately, Henry laughing.

“No, it was right. It really was.”

“You gonna let me in?” Peter asks as you glared up at him.

“Henry, I think it might be best if we continue this another day. You have to be home by eight thirty anyways, right?” You look back at the blonde boy who looked down at his very expensive watch.

“Oh, where did the time go! Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow night?” He starts walking toward your room, Peter taking that as his chance to sneak in.

“Yes!” You yelled back, shoving Peter who barely budged thanks to his new abilities. “Tomorrow night sounds good!”

Henry comes walking back out, bag over his shoulder. “Perfect,” he smiles at Peter. “Maybe I’ll see you before then, Parker! Hopefully we can get some physics done, my mom is making pot roast that is literally to die for so I need to get back.”

“Ooo, pot roast,” Peter says all posh like Henry does, and you roll your eyes instead of laughing like you normally would. “That sounds so good. You can’t miss that, Henry.”

“Right!” Henry laughs, turning to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

You nodded. “That sounds great, Henry,” you say as he slowly walks out, slowly closing the door before Henry quickly puts his hand between the door and the frame. “Yes?”

“I uhm… have a good night, Y/N.”

You inhale shakily, smiling. “You… you too, Henry.” Slowly, you close the door and lock it before turning around, jumping when you see Peter. “Peter!”

“What’s going on tomorrow night?”

You scoffed. “Henry’s taking me out on a date.”

Peter froze, quickly fixing his glasses as though his vision would affect his hearing. “What?”

You rolled your eyes. “You heard me. He’s taking me out tomorrow night to a restaurant his father owns.”

Peter shakes his head. “I… we have plans tomorrow night, Y/N.” Tomorrow was the night, you couldn’t not come on the night.

You shake your head back, crossing your arms. “Well, I thought you’d be late to that like you were today.”

Peter scoffs, rubbing his chin. “I was late one time, Y/N! You know I always come!”

You put your finger out, wiggling it toward him. “No! No, it wasn’t one time! It’s been every day for the past three weeks, you’re late to class and you say, ‘Sorry Y/N, I was with Gwen’, or study halls, ‘Sorry Y/N, I got caught up with Gwen’, or something with Gwen fucking Stacy! If want to hang out with her, you hand out with her, but don’t make plans with me whenever you’re going to be late or you don’t fucking show up at all!”

He didn’t stand you up that many times, did he? He goes through all of them, wincing slightly. Maybe he had stood you up a lot.

The room was silent as you inhaled shakily, rubbing your face with your palms. “Just… I need to finish my homework. You wasted my time arguing with me about something I’ve told you about for the past week.”

Peter’s face scrunches. “You haven’t told me about going on a fucking date with Henry fucking Ford.”

“His name is Henry Baltimore!” You yelled at him once again, covering your mouth. You had yelled more at Peter tonight more than you ever had before. “You would know that if you would read your fucking texts. Now, I need you to leave before I say something I can’t take back.”

Peter shakes his head, quickly coming in front of you. “No, Y/N, please. Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t go, don’t go out with him tomorrow night. I need to tell you something important.”

You shake your head, inhaling shakily as you press your face into your hands to hide your teary eyes from him. What was he going to tell you, that he and Gwen were dating?

“Peter, I don’t want to see you, please leave.”

He shakes his head, holding your shoulders. “No, I’m not leaving, I’m not-”

You shoved him, gasping in air to hold back your tears. “Peter, get the fuck out!” He inhaled deeply as you wipe at your cheeks, sniffling. “Y/N-”

“Peter, I’m not going to tell you again. Get out.”

Slowly, Peter walks toward the door as you stand there, arms cradling your own body as you try to control your breathing. He doesn’t say anything as he opens the door, looking back at you as you breathed shakily. “Y/N,” he says softly, but you shake your head, refusing to look back at him. “I just… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, grabbing the blanket from the couch. “Lock the door on your way out, and leave the key under the door.”

Your heart aches as he does exactly what you said, but what else could he do? You wanted him to do one thing but told him another, how could he know what you wanted him to do?

Peter kneels down slowly, slipping the key back under your apartment door before that special tingle comes in. “What do you want?”

He slowly stood and turned around, sighing when he saw Henry. “Oh uhm… I-I left my charger.”

Peter nods slightly, holding back a scoff. How the hell do you forget a charger? “Right.”

“Peter?” Henry says as he starts to walk away, pausing. “You… you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

The one time the stereotypical jock had to be smart, the one fucking time.

“You just… you treat her right and I won’t kill you.”

You were going to kill Peter Parker. Henry called you an hour before your date after you spent hours getting ready, hoping to have the pretty dress you spent good fucking money on ripped off at most three hours into the date and the makeup you spent hours on ruined by the morning.

But no, Peter, Peter fucking Parker bad to ruin it all — all of it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I really think you should talk to Parker before you go on a date with me. If nothing changes, I’m here.”

Changes? What the fuck was going to change?

You banged on the door, your knuckles burning as you looked down at the pink dress dotted with hand sewed strawberries all over, especially on the pink area of the corset. You did not spend almost two hundred dollars on a dress (with matching lingerie) to not have it ripped off.

When Gwen opened the door, she gasped. “You’re here!” She looked down at her watch. “And early! Why aren’t you on the roof-”

“Where is he?”

Gwen pauses when she hears your voice, slowly letting you inside as you stomped toward his room, unknowingly following the path of red rose petals.

“Hey Y/N- Y/N?!” Carter was shocked to see you before you opened Peter’s door, looking around before groaning and slamming the door.

“Peter! I know you’re in here! What the hell did you do, Henry called and canceled on me!”

You continue to turn around, gasping when you see him kneeling down in front of you. This was not happening.

“What… what are you doing?”

“We-Well uhm,” he quickly stands, fixing his suit. Peter never wore a suit. “That was probably too formal, the kneeling, but uhm-”

“Peter,” you say finally, inhaling. “Hurry up and say what you were going to say.”

He slips his hand into his pocket, slowly taking out a velvet box. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry it took me so long, I am, I just wanted it to be perfect.” He opened it slowly, a thin silver band with a diamond in the center making you gasp. “It’s just… I didn’t know what to do. You said, you said you always wanted a promise ring and-”

“Hurry up, Peter!” You almost screeched, quickly covering your mouth as he smiled, his pretty whiskey eyes looking up at you.

“Well, do you want me to kneel down or-”

You cupped his face, quickly pulling him down to kiss you, humming as his hands quickly found their place at your hips. You could feel the pressure of the small box, slowly stepping back as he follows obediently, groaning against your lips before the back of your knees bump against his mattress. Slowly, he pulls away just enough to press the velvet box into your hand.

His cheeks are red as he brushes his nose against yours, humming. “Is that a yes?”

You nodded, gasping as he slipped the ring onto your finger before setting down the box. He inhaled shakily as he lifted your hand to press against his lips. “I hope this is okay. We’ve been friends for years and-”

“Dammit, just shut up, Peter.”

You pulled him down to kiss you making him rush to put his own ring on push you down against the bed, groaning as his fingers rub against the satin ribbon keeping your dress on your body. “H-How the hell do you undo this-”

“Just pull it, you need to untie it,” you giggled, sitting up just enough for him to tug on the string and press kisses to your skin. “Peter, Peter fuck-”

“I know, honey, I can feel you,” he whispered, body already shaking. He could feel every little thing you did, he could hear every sharp breath you took as his fingers trail over your back and finally untie your dress and the cold hits your skin. “I can feel everything you do.”

Most of all, he could feel how aroused you were. He could smell it, as weird as that sounded, a sweet aroma filling his nose as he kissed into your neck and the small sparks that traveled through his fingers.

He pulls it down to your waist, hissing as you lift your hips into his just enough so he can pull it down your body, but the feeling of your body so close to his makes his eyes roll back. Your hands start to tug on his blazer before he can even finish pulling down your dress, pulling away from his lips to let out a soft whine.

“Peter, please, please-”

“I know honey, I know,” he whispers back, pulling off his blazer before he is able to focus on your body. You didn’t have a bra on, of course you didn’t because your top was a corset, but the amount of exposed skin made him stop. “Holy shit.”

“Peter, you have way too much clothes on.”

He nods frantically, quickly obeying your not so subtle command, unbuttoning his shirt before you pull him down for another kiss, humming against his lips. Your fingers push into his slacks, a whine leaving his mouth as you pull out his shirt to finish taking it off, his hands going behind his back to grab the cuffs and pull it off.

The kisses were hot, your tongue pushed into his mouth as he groaned loudly, his hands cupping your face as your own press along his chest. He pulled away just a bit for breath, letting his eyes trail along your body before your hands pressed against his chest, stroking along all of his scars.

You were the one who healed the wounds before the scars, it was only right you were the one who kissed them afterwards. With that thought, your lips pressed to the waxy skin as his hands started to undo his belt, thankful for the fact he hadn’t been able to put on his shoes.

Oh but yours, the pretty white platform heels that had to have been more than four inches and the Velcro strap around your ankles really made him want to put them around his waist, or over his shoulders — whichever came first.

“Peter?” You whisper, his eyes quickly flashing to yours. You gasped, his pupils wide as he stared at you, his hands shaky. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” he whispers, shaking his head as he pulls his pants and boxers off, inhaling deeply. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. It’s my first time after… you know, and I swear I can feel everything.”

“Everything?” You swallow, gasping as your cunt clenched around nothing, his eyes rolling back as he slowly begins to pump his cock.

“Everything.”

You shiver as he slowly pressed his head against your pretty lace underwear, the pink fabric embellished with strawberries embroidered onto it. He inhaled as he watched the beads of precum spread across the lace, groaning loudly.

This couldn’t have been for Henry, no. This was for him and him only, he was going to make sure of it.

“This was for that preppy mother fucker?” He almost growls, leaning down to slowly slip the panties down your thighs. He certainly would have kept them on if he wasn’t planning on absolutely devouring you.

“Peter, h-he’s not-”

“Important?” Peter suggests, kissing against your plush thighs before groaning against your skin. “Gonna make you forget his fucking name.”

Your eyes rolled back as he slowly slipped his fingers down your slit, smearing your wetness up to your clit as your eyes rolled back, gasping as his fingers firmly rub circles onto your sensitive bud. It makes you whine as he gets faster, watching as it starts to get swollen and puffy.

He groaned, leaning down to press open mouth kisses to your lower lips, sucking and tugging with his teeth as his fingers rubbed faster against your clit. He could feel you squirming under him, hands tugging his hair as you whined loudly. “Peter, Peter please-”

“Please what? Hm?” He teased you, smiling as your hips buckled. “What do you want?”

You whined loudly, the sound making the hairs on his neck stick up as he groaned into your cunt. “I-Inside, please inside-”

He hummed, his fingers slowly teasing around the tight ring of muscle. “You want what inside? What, hm?”

“Y-You, any of you, all of you!” Your voice is loud, eyes rolling back as he slowly pushes in a finger. You moaned loudly, the feeling almost foreign because you haven’t had sex or touched yourself in a long time. “Fuck!”

His finger is long and thick, curling inside of you and he could feel that tough part inside of you. He stroked it, watching as your eyes rolled back and he started to thrust his finger, pulling in and out joint by joint before pushing in until his knuckles pressed against your wet cunt. You screamed out, whining as your hips rode his digits.

“You’re so desperate,” he whispers, lips latching onto your clit and sucking loudly. He could feel your nails digging into his scalp with another whine. “What do you want, hm? Another one?”

He watched you nod, hips bucking. “Yes. Yes, I want another one, please!”

Slowly, he pushed another in, watching as you whined loudly. He could feel your body spark in slight pain and discomfort, so he lets them stay still for a minute as you panted softly. “You okay?”

You nod, humming as you slowly move a hand to his cheek. “I’m perfect, Peter. More than perfect.” He smiled, slowly thrusting his fingers to hear a mewl fall from your lips. “Fuck!”

He laughs at the pretty curse falling from your mouth, something too foul and disgusting dripping from your pretty lips humoring him. “Don’t be rude now,” he says immediately, his other hand firmly rubbing against your puffy clit. “I won’t be so nice if you start getting mouthy on me.”

You shake your head. “I won’t, I’m sorry, please please-”

He starts to thrust his fingers, eyes rolling back as he stares at your scrunched up face covered in makeup. As much as he hated the thought of ruining your pretty mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow with painted strawberries on it, he wanted nothing more than to ruin it.

He pushed your clit between his fingers, sucking hard as you squirmed before he moved his hand just a bit to press against your pelvis. “Behave, bug.”

The nickname made you whine, your hand continuing to tug on his hair as he pressed firm kissed down your slit, thrusting his fingers in and out of you as the other rubbed firm circles into your clit and your walls clamping and clenching around his digits made him moan out and rut his hips into the bed.

“You want another, darling? Hm? I think you’re going to need it for me, honey, truly.”

You nodded, gasping as he slowly pushed another one in and thrusts his fingers slowly, watching your body writhe under him. He inhaled sharply at the feeling, groaning out as he kissed against your leaking cunt. Your hips buck up into his fingers, whines falling from your lips before shaking your head. “Peter, Peter! Peter, I want you- please. Please, need you now-”

He laughs. “What, you don’t want me to finish stretching you out? You just want to feel my cock?”

You nodded, tugging his head back. “Yes. Yes, yes please!”

Slowly, he pulled but his fingers, sucking and kissing against your entrance before pushing his fingers into his mouth. “You just want to be stretched out by me, don’t you?”

You nodded, gasping as he sat up and kneeled over your body. He takes his cock that was leaking precum drip out steadily as he pumped himself and watched it slowly spurt onto your cunt. It makes you whine as he slathers it around with his tip, pushing it down your slit before pushing his head into your cunt.

He watched your eyes roll back, a groan falling from his lips before he ruts his hips deeper into you. You whine, hands quickly rubbing against his back before your nails dig into his skin. He let out a shaky moan, groaning loudly as he pressed a kiss to your head. “Fucking hell, darling, you’re so tight. So, so tight.”

You squirm. “Feels good, feels so good,” you say, gasping as he starts to thrust, whining loudly. “Oh! Holy shit, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

He groaned into your neck, cursing as he held himself up by his hands and rolled his hips. “Fuck, fuck baby, barely been in for a minute and I’m already going to cum. You’re so fucking tight around me, I can barely breathe.”

You nod repeatedly, your head shaking as you pull him lower. “Please, please, inside. Don’t pull out, I don’t want you to pull out.”

His eyes rolled back as he choked, your walls tight as he started to thrust harder and harder, the bed slamming into the wall. Your nails scratch against his back, sobs of pleasure falling from your lips as his cock drags against your walls and hits that spot inside of you that makes your body shake. Your hips almost instinctively rolled into his own, desperate for more before he pulled your legs around him, the cold faux leather and your heavy platforms settling against his lower back.

“Fuck, fuck baby,” he whispers, almost growling as his thrusts get harder and unhinged, your body bouncing withe every test. “Fucking hell!”

You moaned his name over and over, the only thing calling from your mouth Peter, Peter, Peter… like a mantra, whines most likely interrupting every syllable. He could feel every twitch of your fingers, every clench of your cunt, every breath against his neck as he pressed kisses to your shoulder.

He dragged his tongue along your skin, teasing his teeth against you before sucking. He could feel your chest against his, your stuttering breath before you pulled him up for a kiss and your fingers shakily ran through his hair. He almost whimpered, hips moving faster before you clamp down on him with a loud moan and a creamy ring enveloping his cock.

His hips stutter, loud moans falling from your lips before he inhales deeply and thrusts into you as deep as he could, screaming out your name as he comes inside.

His eyes roll back, broken moans leaving his lips as you breathe shakily, hands rubbing against his cheeks. “It took you long enough.”

Peter smiles. “Yeah, it did, didn’t it? You know… I was always with Gwen because she and the rest of them were helping me plan this.”

You gasped, looking back. “You think they heard?”

“Yes! Yes, we did! Everything! The cumshot too!”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | FINALE | wc. 5.1K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' | overview. this webtoon follows the story of a woman who somehow can remember all her past lives.

sum. there's always a factor chaining you from falling in love, usually you can never be bothered, but with Zhongli in your life you may have to pin down the source of your hesitation and possibly unlock new secrets from the consultant

cw. spoilers for the recent 3.4 update and intended inaccuracy of the lore

note. tumblr is so high it auto posted this on January💀💀

main m.list genshin.mlist

PART I < PART II < PART III (finale)

Strange, Zhongli really is the epitome of an oddity. You don't know if he was previously a magician or he simply knows how to make Mora appear out of thin air. Either way, you get freebie whenever he accompanies you in your untimely stroll

Though every freebie means a reward for saving his ass from getting scammed. The amount of times he hands off Mora to a person, who clearly has insidious motives, without second thought pales in comparison to the age of the late Archon.

You thought being friends with Hu Tao has taught him something, but clearly he's an airhead at heart when it comes to money.

Then came a particular day when you and Zhongli stroll in the streets of Liyue, you both passby a travelling storyteller who's halfway of retelling the tale of the lone warrior who sacrificed their life to save a Goddess.

". . .they were heavily guarded and fought neither for the Seven Seats nor to survive. Lady Guizhong also wrote in her tale that they were buried somewhere in the Guili Plains to commemorate the Lone Warrior's good deeds."

Eons of living can grant you insurmountable patience and restraint from spitting unfiltered comments that a person may take umbrage, you thoroughly believed you've mastered those skills long ago, if you slip a crack then you'd almost be an oxymoron.

"Bullcrap."

. . .You are a moron, after all.

You gained an immediate reaction from the consultant beside you who perched an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued.

You cough between your fist, "I don't intend to vilify Liyue's folklore, but that was straight up flawed."

Coming out as a bumptious person is the last thing you want now that you've gotten a new ally, but they were talking about you, more precisely about your past life as a swordsman.

Who knows someone better than themselves? And for Achon's sake why do they have to dub you as the Lone Warrior? Ugh, now you can sympathize what Diluc feels being called Darknight Hero. Yes, you know about his alter ego, can't fool a master disguiser.

"Why do you believe otherwise?"

"Huh?" When you gaze up at him, you saw the same intensity in his eyes when you first met him as he reiterated the question.

"O-Oh. . . sorry, I just didn't expect you to be open-minded when I literally called a famous Liyue story bullcrap."

The corners of his lips tugged up in a curious smile, "Let's assume we share the same thoughts, and I want to hear yours."

You didn't understand what he meant but his compelling voice made you speak your innermost knowledge of history without a shred of a doubt, "Most content of the tale is accurate since it was written by the Goddess herself, from the description of their appearance, their background, and deeds before the spark of the Archon war, it's all veridical. However, the part where the Warrior is buried somewhere in the Guili Plains is what makes it erroneous."

"How so?" Zhongli queried almost immediately when you paused for a second to construct the proper words without offending the anyone who opposed your opinions.

"First and foremost, the Lone Warrior was never buried in the first place, for their body was nowhere to be found amongst the corpse of the warpath. Instead of saying they were buried, Lady Guizhong built a stone slab in the Guili Plains to commemorate the Warrior however, due to the circumstances of the Karmic Dept, the slab is most likely destroyed from the uncontrolled rampage of a Yaksha."

As far as you can reckon, the Yaksha who destroyed the slab must have died feeling guilty for eradicating the one memoir of the Lone Warrior. At that time, it was all a speculation from you who knows what the Yaksha must be feeling, but now all of it don't matter.

Saving Guizhong is a choice you've never regretted, Morax felt happy and contented in her presence, it's enough to suffice everything. A simple stone slab won't change your standpoint, even without one you'd gladly do it for the second time.

"What about you, Zhongli? You said we. . ."

Your voice slowly fades away with the wind to carry out amongst the trees and may Barbatos hears this conversation to let him know he had found his Y/N.

He had always imagine what sort of interaction happens between two bards, given the fact you've once told him you play the lyre when you were a child, he's eager to see you in action.

"Hmm, as I thought, we do share commonity in the matter."

That piqued your interest, "Pray tell."

You've never met anyone who's well versed in history like you do.

"I also believe the Lone Warrior never had their deserved burial, but Guizhong made it possible to tell the tale of the mortal who made saved her life. While I personally think they're righteous, it still baffles me why would they sacrifice themselves for someone they're not well acquainted with."

You awkwardly laugh at his astute observation, feeling the perspiration forming on your forehead. Historians often ask the same inquiry; why did they save Guizhong? The tale itself didn't hold any answer for that, and a handful of Liyue citizens doubt the honor of the Lone Warrior because of this— Zhongli is one of them.

"Regardless of their intention, the Lone Warrior has my respect, for their sacrifice has led for another woman's salvation, it is nothing to be easily disregarded." Zhongli added, taking a few steps ahead.

"I've noticed how you accolade the people of the past, especially their noble hearts and their contribution to Liyue. It almost sounds like it's what you do to your. . . umm, deceased loved ones."

His eyes bleaked, for a moment you thought you crossed a line, but he spoke in a solemn voice, "I have actually, I've lost so many good people over the years, but I've learned to move on and look back in the past with a smile."

Yeah, you definitely crossed a line just there.

Your eyes find purchase on your shoes, "You're a strong man, Zhongli. I can only imagine how you managed to do that. Is that one of the factors you decided to become a consultant?"

He seemed to hesitate to answer, as if contemplating his thoughts first, ". . .I wouldn't say it's a defining factor, but yes."

"Do you ever look back to your loved ones without. . . hurting as much as it did on the first time?"

"It's a good thing to remember someone who meant a lot to you, but if the memory of that person is making you suffer, you need to let them go. You might feel guilty at first, but after a while you'll be able to think of them again without hurting nor feeling guilty."

Just then, a fierce wind struck and swept through their bodies. The dry leaves that hung from the branches rustled loudly as moonlight illuminated. Zhongli, who silently looked towards the clamoring branches, murmured in a low voice only for your ears.

"Do not rush yourself to move on, everyone has different pace. It might take you years or decades, even centuries and I'll still be with you, so do not worry about going through this alone."

Did you hear that? It's the sound of your heart thundering.

Before you know it, you were giggling to yourself.

Your laughter bubbles up from between your lips like a clear spring, unrestrained peals of genuine amusement. The sound is so mellifluous, he almost can’t find it in him to comprehend that it came at his expense. It makes him feel special.

"It makes me think how old you really are, you sound like you've been living for thousands of years." You jested. "You're not wrong." He promptly followed. What...? That must've been a joke, eh?

"You sure do know how to do your job. I felt better after hearing that. Thank you, Zhongli."

One moment you were facing him, the next you're suddenly squashed against his chest as he cages you in his arms protectively. Not a good position to be in when your heart began to pump rapidly as his scent rubbed on you.

You were about to ask him what was the matter when you heard an audible and heavy thump behind you followed by a burst of the Geo element. Zhongli looked down on you.

"I apologize for my action, but your life was on the line, so I acted out of instinct." Yet he doesn't make any indication to let you go any time sooner, his hold on you only tightens.

You hid your flushed cheeks by coughing, "I'm not made out of glass, I can handle myself perfectly fine." Yet you didn't move from where you are and held onto his clothes.

"Correct, a few slimes are no big deal, but I can't take any compromises when it's comes to you, Y/N."

"I-If you have time to flirt then just get on with the slimes." You demanded with a huff. You should've seen how he had looked like a lost puppy, "But I wasn't flirting with you, I'm merely expressing my thoughts regarding about you."

"That's even worse!" You exclaim, having no courage to look at him.

That night felt like some distant memory, some dream too far for him to grasp. He thought of your eyes, shimmering in the light of the moon, of your laugh, loud and joyous.

He could picture you perfectly, the warm orange of the lanterns lighting half of your face while the cool light of the moon illuminating the other side.

And it's not a secret he's enamored with you. Even Xiao can deduce the subtle smile everytime your name is mentioned. He hasn't seen an ardor look on him for hundreds of years, it felt anomalous to see him blush like a teenager.

The Traveler and the floating emergency food didn't seem to mind the two, but Paimon has been really curious about it.

If Zhongli likes you then can't he just straight up confess that in your face? Life would've been so simple if people are straightforward🙄

Rough representation;

There's no concrete answer for it yet, liking Zhongli more than what you two are amidst the process of your healing would seem like he's taken you out of pity.

You don't want that type of relationship. You opt to sort yourself before consulting your mixed feelings you have with the consultant.

And by that literally means;

"You want to accompany the traveler in Jueyun Karst?" You responded with a resigned sigh.

Each day spent with him only shows a fraction of how ridiculous you probably sound to a youthful man.

Everyone in Liyue knows no mortal can get in Jueyun Karst, even if they did there would be no merit to achieve unless you're seeking for a beautiful view of the clouds.

"Yes, the adepti Ganyu had gone missing for days, the traveler asked me if I know the shortest way to Jueyun Karst, and I proposed to be their guide."

Lies.

The traveler is capable of navigating their way to Jueyun Karst.

In fact, they already left this morning and it's noon as you speak.

You only used that excuse to skedaddle your way out of the dilemma you got yourself into. You need the cortisol to die down. And that won't happen if the said dilemma is with you (e.t. Zhongli)

"Hmm. . . so, you've been in Liyue before yet you still accepted my offer to give you a tour." His statement gives off an accusatory tone, but his lopsided grin tells you otherwise.

You shot him a sheepish smile. "How can I let the opportunity of conversing with a handsome man go to waste? There's a reason why I'm an adventurer, Zhongli."

He shakes his head, "How long you'll be away?"

"Not that long, I'd say only a few hours. Why? Are you going to miss me?"

You only meant it as a joke, you didn't think he'd take it seriously.

"Yes."

You see, this is the reason why you want to avoid him.

Hah! In the end, you found yourself winded up somewhere in Yujing Terrace. You heard Glaze Lillies bloom in this area, it reminded you of My. Tianheng where a field of Glaze Lillies can be found everywhere.

"Another flower is blooming, such a beautiful sight, if only life can be as beautiful as these Glaze Lillies." You nearly yelp at the sudden voice speaking near your ear and reeled back.

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry if I had scared you." An aged lady with her gray hair tucked in a low bun spoke. "I'm fine. . ."

"Call me Madame Ping. You look quite familiar to me, child. Are you perhaps the adventurer the Wangsheng consultant was talking about?" You crane your neck at her question.

"U-Uh. . . if you're talking about Y/N L/N then yes, that would be me. May I ask what made you so certain it's me?"

"Ah! He hasn't stopped talking about you since he visited this place. That man is so stoic looking, but when he hears your name it looks like he's a different man all of a sudden."

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply through your nose in any attempt to bring your nerves down. You had heard those words on multiple occasions— that Zhongli was different around you, that he cared for you like he cared for no one else. There had been a few times where that statement rang true. Some that don't.

Zhongli felt like a breath of fresh air, a sunshine on a cloudy day, a tall mountain summit from afar. You loved the way he listens to your beliefs, you loved the way he trusts you with his secrets and experiences, you loved the way he deeply cares to others, you love the way he seemed to brighten up every room he walked into.

Goddamn you love everything about that man!

Even his stupidity to pecuniary is lovable.

Somehow he managed to bring joy to the same place you always associated with agony— every corner of the place was happier with him around.

It's no wonder you feel something that can only be named as infatuation— a feeling you once harbored towards Morax, but failed to realize it until your death.

But that had been so long ago, back when you were a little kid determined to become an adult. Now you're an adventurer with a thousand adventures under your belt. Now you were strong and experienced and prepared. And yet, you're still hesitating. Why?

"What seems to cause your inner turmoil, child?"

Your breath hitched and your intake became shallow, it feels like being reborn again. An advantageous thing about reincarnation is that you get to experience love in many forms, mainly familial love.

It was your gateway from the gripping anxiety you feel whenever you overhear hearsay in your town about Morax.

But not once did a family ever asked you for your problems, it's not their fault being unaware of your curse and if they did ask you would've probably non the wiser— it was because they don't share the same sentiment having to live for thousand years.

With Madame Ping, you feel so inclined to relay your thoughts as if you're indeed a child ranting problems with your mom, something about her just puts your mind at ease. And you only just met her not too long ago.

You took a deep breath and tore your gaze from the Glaze Lillies, "There's this man that I fostered feelings for, since I started liking him. . . I always felt like I'm standing over burning charcoal. Do you know what that feels like? Not being able to stop my feet from moving even for a moment. I can't run. I want to, but there's something holding me back."

"Hmm, that sounds too complex," she sighs, "then again, being young has many complexities just as we adults have. With the way you're describing it, I won't say it's holding you back, child."

You lifted your gaze at her, confusion now painted your features.

"If I were to put it, you're simply tangled up in your past."

"W-What—"

"And you need closure if you want to face your feelings head on."

A closure? Is that what I'm missing? Should I vent my pent up feelings? Ugh. . . Will that really help?

Sensing your dubious demeanor, Madame Ping smiled, "You do not need to heed my words. I'm simply offering a suggestion."

"No, I'll consider it. In fact, I think it's the best course to deal with this. Thank you, Madame Ping!"

And so you dash from the place in search of something.

You run pass the vast greenery of viridescent grasses and colorful wildflowers— a meadow, where you'd usually go for meandering while accompanied by the evening breeze or gilding sunlight. It was perfect setting of tranquility for a maladaptive daydreamer like yourself. You'd imagine yourself laying down and naming the constellations that coincidentally appear in the sky, or count the exotic birds that flew by, or hum a tune that's been lost in history.

Looking at you now versus your past self equates for hypocrisy.

An amalgamation of both morose and agitated countenance now marred your features. Any person who sees you would imagine how tumultuous your life has been, it's nowhere near nirvana.

Trembling as you arrived at your destination, you stand in front of Morax's statue and traces the meticulous handwork with the pads of your fingers. The entire place feels like him, as though you’re with him at arms reach, but too far to actually hold him.

"It's really pathetic how I try so hard to move on, only to come back to you when something is amiss in my life," you murmured, "but I'm not here to endlessly whine about every misfortune in life, I want to release this feeling in order for me to be appeased."

You heaved a deep breath.

"I love you, Morax. I still do. No amount of flowery apologies can fix the damage I made for stalling my confession to you. I was young and had a plethora of uncertainties that made me second-guess myself. I guess. . . the guilt of leaving you pushed me to the brink of watching over you throughout my consecutive reincarnations, I wanted to make sure you were happy. And now, I want to be happy too. I feel happy with Zhongli and I don't want to make the same mistake of hesitating then later regret on it."

Some days your sadness was a mild lisp. It barely scratched the surface of your voice, but today melancholy had waged a full scale assault on your vocal chords.

"I've decided I'll confess to him, not today, I still need to build the courage to face him. I'm thankful for the time we spent our earliest days together, truly I am, but it's time for me to move on. One day I will look back on our childhood and say 'I love you' once more without the lingering ache in my heart. I'll never stop coming back to you, Morax. . . so, instead of bidding farewell, I'll see you later."

It felt good to vent your feelings out that you nearly cried that day as you walk back in Wangshu Inn and now you're ready to confess your feelings to the consultant whenever you're ready. And whether he'll accept it or not is entirely up to him.

"Are you free this , Y/N?" A strange look obscured the consultant's face, what's even more strange is the fact he's not even looking you directly.

"Yes. . .?" Something tells you he's not in a good mood.

Crap. . . someone give him Mora! ASAP!

"I wish to speak with you alone. Will you come with me in Mt. Tianheng?" Asked the consultant who seemed a bit on edge this evening after you came back. His spurious stone cold expression obnubilated akin to the look of a man who's gearing up for war.

His ominous mien warranted your logic to say no to him, but you're too far on the line of sanity to even refuse the man you like. "Sure."

>> TIMESKIP. . .

You thought not confessing early to Morax before your death was the worst decision you've ever made. Think again, 'cuz this is most definitely the worst, baddest and stupidest decision ever.

You never made it a point to come back to this place— it brought back a storm of memories, some of which were more comfortable being shoved to the recesses of your mind and be kept there for eternity. But for whatever reason, you feel inclined to follow him and disregard the uneasiness of returning in Mt. Tianheng.

Zhongli has been strangely quiet all the way here, at this point he'd be randomly stating facts, not be a complete mute-walking pillar.

Thus, you suck up your inner turmoil and deal with it instead of fleeing right off the bat.

"You're strong for keeping your head up this far." He accolades suddenly to particularly no one, except if he was referring to you.

"Me?"

He comes to an abrupt stop and finally, FINALLY faces you. And shit do his visage screams he's not playing around. He's not here to be buddy-buddy with you. He looks genuinely distress.

About what though?

. . .

. . . . .

. . . . . . .

Oh. . .

Oh no!

Did he see through your lies earlier? That you're supposed to be with the traveler in Jueyun Karst? Double shit! Not good!

A thin sheen of sweat accumulated on your forehead as you try to come up with an excuse, "U-Uh. . ." but came up with nothing.

You mentally prepared yourself for a parade of admonishing words from Zhongli, you genuinely thought he's going to nitpick on why you shouldn't have lied to him and probably question the motives behind your action. At least that's what you thought.

"This guilt is unbearable even for an immortal."

"Yes, I know I lied about going with the traveler in—. . . Huh?"

What?

His eyes seemed to shine brighter than the stars as he stares deeply into yours. You sense an underlying promise in those determined orbs, it instilled the feeling of anticipation and anxiety.

"I am Morax."

The air suddenly became suffocating for YOU. Breathing gets hard. There’s this feeling in your chest that’s gnawing through your body, affecting your every movement.

Conflagrated flames and scalding ice, the physical feeling tied up in all the emotions that seem to leak from ZHONGLI'S features— fear, hope and adoration churned his guts.

An unkempt strand of your hair overshadowed your eyes from Zhongli's standpoint. It seems as though he made the decision that'll compromise the friendship he had built with you.

Being the bearer of the knowledge of your reincarnation didn't come easy for an immortal who's supposed to be imposing as a mortal.

Ever since he saw you paying respect for his passing, his instinct is blaring at him to tell you his true identity. Though he has to admit it's not entirely his gut-feel that added a major factor of what he had done now— it was his selfishness, yet again.

He had gone through multiple scenarios of what your reaction may be; Would you laugh at his face? Are you going to dismiss his claims and think it's a prank? Will you run away from him?

Not like it matters to him.

You can do all of those and he'd still want to be with you.

Heck! He knew you were telling a fib about your involvement in the Traveler's quest and it didn't change his feelings for you.

". . ."

As crickets filled his ears, he takes a feeble step forward and spoke in a solemm voice, "You must have a lot of questions, I can guarantee to answer all of them but know that it was never my intention to prolong your suffering by hiding my identity."

He knows.

He GODDAMN knows!

Your words broke up and all you could mutter were stuttering sounds. Hot tears streamed down your face, and squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the tears would stop. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time as stand there unmoving. What else is there to say?

Before you know it, both of your shoulders were grasped in a firm but gentle grip of gloved hands. There's so many mixed feelings stirring in a boiling pot, and you can't make out a definite conclusion until you arrive in some sort of resulting point.

Are you angry for his decision to play dead? Betrayed he kept this from you? Pained that he didn't trust you? Relieved that he's really alive in the flesh? Happy that he knows it's you and you don't have to pretend around him? Which is it?

Amidst all the chaotic thoughts, you still feel safe in the presence of Zhongli— Yes, Zhongli. You hate how it feels so warm, you hate how you want to bask in his embrace, you hate the solace you find yourself in when he's around even in your worst time. Just then, similarly back in Inazuma, the sky shed tears to empathize your mourning heart. The heavens really find your suffering amusing.

In your haze vision, he was moving his lips but the words fell on deaf ears, your sense of hearing refuse to comprehend the meaning behind his statement. It's probably for the best.

Zhongli, the ever so keen who promptly took notice, snaked his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in a somber embrace and gently placed your head in his chest— an act of shielding you from the dangers of the world and offers you a safe haven.

The veil dropped and walls crumbled.

Your feeble hands grasped his flaunting waistcoat like a helping hand. Your scream synchronises with the thundering and the minimum space between you muffled the cries. Your undecipherable emotions echoes with the storm like a reflection on the mirror.

And everything leads to the man desperately clinging to your bare fingers on the cliffside of a bottomless pit you dug yourself into.

"Look at me."

Compelled to do so, you lifted your blurry gaze. A Geo Archon known for his wisdom and strength, is standing in his barest version. The version of a man who weeps only in the presence of whom he loves and trusts.

[ source: Pinterest. please comment if you know the artist so I can credit ]

"Z-Zhongli. . ."

A single index finger met your quivering lips, "Shh. . . The rain isn't stemmed from sadness. So get drenched, and be refreshed. I hope it washes away the hot bitterness felt by your heart. When that hurt washes away, let's return home together."

". . . Together? It sounds surreal. . . I don't want to believe it."

"May I kiss you for proof?"

You're too absorbed in the heat of moment that every rational decision flew out the window, but maybe the most rational thing to do is to indulge yourself.

You nodded, with your permission Zhongli has never been the happiest till this day.

His lips descended on yours with fervor, immediately you can feel his desperation, his love, his determination, his grief— it's overwhelming it almost knocked you on your feet. Quite fortunate he has his hand on your back to keep you steady while the other is on your cheek as he drowns you in his presence.

You feel hot, it's unusual during the rain shower, but the hypnotic intimacy he applies in his action takes your breath away.

Heat pooled in your stomach, the prospect of kissing Zhongli is something you didn't know you'd be craving for more and your heart skipped a few beats.

Your whole body tingled, the feel of his towering frame leaning on you as he encased you in his arms felt like you're ascending to Celestia.

Albeit slowly, you felt yourself gradually being pulled up to the surface accompanied by the hands of your savior.

It still wasn't clear if he's dreaming this moment, but there was raw emotion in the way you weave your fingers through his free tresses and caress his scalp. Zhongli kept his eyes half open, sneaking a guilty glance at you every time he comes back for air to assure himself this isn't a product of his imagination.

He doubts the authenticity of it all. He's not sure if nature rooted for this moment or if Celestia tricked him into this perfect present to appease his guilt, but every passing second makes him want to stay in this illusion and for the first time in eons, he felt like a little dragon discovering new treasures— he discovered you yet again.

Slowly, the pull apart, chest heaving and face flustered.

Zhongli suddenly felt more guilt, he had acted out of the line and kissed without properly courting you, not so gentlemanly. The smile on your face, however, eased the guilt in his heart and subconsciously mirrored your smile, it was simply contagious.

"It's really you, huh? I can't believe I didn't realize it was you." You placed your palm on his cheek as to reassure your sanity, in response he leaned impossibly closer to your hand.

"Words cannot describe how much I want to expose myself to you, and how apologetic I am for staging my death. Had I've been aware of your existence and your knowledge of the past, I would have come up a different solution and not cause you more pain."

Yeah, it really is him. No other man can look after your feelings like he does, and there's no other man lovable as him.

"I really want to ask how did you know, not only of my reincarnation, but also my awareness of my previous life. Is it because you were a former Archon?"

Heaving a deep sigh, he pressed his forehead on yours, his fingers traverse down the corner of your lips until it wipes away from what it looks like the remnants of your tears.

"I don't need to be an Archon to know it's you. Your kindness, compassion and everything beautiful will always attract me no matter what form you may take. No other being can impersonate someone so precious as you, Y/N. It's why I knew it was you the moment you wear your heart on your sleeve."

Times like this always reminds you why you fell for him so hard.

"As for your memories of the past. . . you weren't exactly being cautious of your words when you were speaking to my statue. No normal mortal has ever called me Morax other than you."

Oh. . . you were rather grateful for it.

"So, you're saying I'm not normal to you?"

"Y/N, reincarnating while retaining your memories is not exactly a trait of a standard normal mortal." He does have a point.

"Hey, look. The rain has stopped."

Hands adorned of scars, bruises and wounds that once grasped the pointed end of every sharp edged rocks are now held by the calloused hands of another fighter.

You watch as the lustrous moon rose up the sky, pride was balm from its full fledged form, exuding sufficient fulguration for the inky night and the prodigious number of stars turned into extraordinary bright white hued after the rain. For the first time, the deepest somber night just came out of its humble abode.

He kept his eyes on you and his forehead glued on yours, it looks like he's not planning on letting you go any time sooner, "Indeed, it seems like your heart has eased up too."

"Yes, and I have you thank for that." You gently grabbed the wrist caressing your face and rubbed figures of eight. "Thank you for having the courage of revealing your true self, it have me the right to courage to fess up what's on my mind."

You pulled away from his embrace and took his hand on yours, you can feel his burning eyes fixated on your actions, "I never got the chance to confess everything when I was dying in your arms. I thought it was for the best, but I'll say it now."

Watching you straighten your spine, Zhongli couldn't hide his anticipation. He has vague idea what you mean, but he didn't want to keep his hopes up, so he remained calm and let you continue.

"I love you. Whether you're known as Morax, Rex Lapis, Zhongli or any other names, I'm hopelessly in love with you because to me you're the dragon who kept me safe from the dangers and prioritize me over your own happiness. You're my first friend, my first confidant, my first partner in crime, my first protector, my first crush and most importantly, you're my first love. You're my every first, and you'll be my very last."

Every joyful feeling known to man hit Zhongli like a meteor and he couldn't help himself to claim your lips once again. This time he was more gentler and more on conveying his overjoyed expression. The kiss was brief as he pulled away immediately.

"I have always adored you, Y/N. Your death nor your lack of reciprocation doesn't make my feelings any different. Do you remember the promise I made? I will take you at the highest peak of the sky, I meant it literally that time, I'm more willing to fulfill that promise both literally and figuratively.bI'm grateful to have met you in my life, and I'm more grateful that you feel the same as I do. I will do my best to keep you happy, Y/N."

"Dummy! I should be the one saying that." Your eyes began to feel moisture yet again. "Would you look at us. It took us a couple thousands of years before getting to this point, it's almost laughable and I— ACHOO!"

". . ."

". . ."

"Let's head back. It almost slip my mind humans are quite fragile even just a few drops of rain, and your drenched clothes are not helping."

"Aren't you the one who told me to get drenched and be refreshed?" You replied sardonically, though the lovesick smile on your face betrays you.

He chuckled, "Let's continue this back home."

Home with him. It sent the elephants stomping in your stomach. Forget the fluttering butterflies!

He intertwined your fingers with his as you both walk back with goofy smiles, "Yeah, let's head home."

An idyllic hilly meadow greeted your sight as you stand tall after an arduous journey. Beside you is the prize worth of every gems in the world. As your blood-soaked hand held his, the two of you embarked a new journey towards tomorrow.

And this this time, you won't be alone. Mazes may seperate you two along the way, you'll always find your way back to each other's arms. A farewell between star crossed lovers doesn't exist, for they will meet later on at the end.

─ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. werp that will wrap up this series, I'll be working on with all of your requests and if I can insert the Xiao version of this then it's considered lucky. thank you everyone for supporting this fic, for encouraging me to continue more than one part and sharing your thoughts about it. i value comments more than anything so pls tell me what you think, I don't reply to all comments but I read all of them 💙💜

─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @itsyourgirlria @shizunxie @elsoleil @cherlynono @slzaar @katsuissus @tikitsune @useless-potatho @chimsblogg @lemonlimesocks @multifandomvoyage @malt-rants-and-stuff @jameineliebe @angelkazusstuff @eissaaaa @beezgobuzzbuzz @towos @atsukawolfcat @sunflowers1970 @avery-needs-more-fics @angstylittleb1tch @bigcandlesmolbrain @lxmine @imk1ra @chihawari @bishishbored @yuuki4646 @sunsethw4 @princeabomination @alexiris @chocolateneapolitan @ayra2452008 @ittosoneandoniwife @alatus2716 @thetwinkims @sweetbills @nanami-s-tie @rain-and-a-nice-nap @a-rose-byanothername @swirrley @lasignoramybeloved @magicalnaturenerd @boundedbyfate @extremelytoastybread @vvyeislazzy @dear-dairiess @crowleysthings @imafatpug @tjjjrsj + kokomisimppp alice4wonderland2184 quereespf haru-tofuu vv3ntii and others that I can't tag for sum reason tumblr won't explain •_•

©OTAKUWORKS | FEB 2023

[magnifythesun]

Hi! Are you still taking ianthony prompts? I've had this stuck in my head the time Ian's car broke down and Anthony said he begged Ian 6 times to come pick him up and I just imagine Damsel in Distress Ian who's also stubborn and a bit oblivious to a worried and protective Anthony who's always there for him in different situations.

Thank you sooo much for the prompt!!

This is definitely one of my favorite little details that they've dropped about themselves haha!! I can't believe Anthony had to ask Ian SIX whole times just to come get him 😂 Ian truly must never ask for help! Okay, I'm a little rusty in my writing but I'm excited so let's see how this goes! Let me know what you think! ^_^

(mid writing notes: writing this really made me realize just how many times SIX whole times of asking your friend to let you give them a ride is. SIX TIMES)

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56102110

--

Leave it to Ian to get stranded in the only 'middle-of-nowhere' spot in LA. Anthony was wearing tracks into his living room carpet, caught up in rereading the messages Ian had sent.

"Car broke 😢" was the first sign of trouble, accompanied by the sad photo of Ian's car half-pulled off of the asphalt into grass.

"Where are you?" Anthony had shot back, confused by the seemingly rural background of the photo. "Got AAA coming to help?"

"In the most barren part of the whole city." Ian replied after a couple of minutes. "I'm taking a look at at it now but yeah I'm probably going to call them. Car sounds fucked."

"Shit, man. Lemme know if you need a ride" Anthony offered. It only took a second for the reply.

"No worries, I'll be good."

There had been radio silence for a while then. Anthony hadn't been too stressed. He figured Ian already had a different person lined up to get him if his car didn't start back up. Still, he kept glancing at his phone for updates that didn't come.

After about forty minutes, and a quick glance at the clock that told him it'd be getting dark soon, Anthony texted Ian again.

"Triple A fix your car?"

The response was prompt. "Nope"

Anthony stared at the message, knowing this man did not just send him only the word 'nope.' It took a minute but more followed.

"The AAA guy's still looking at it but from what I can tell it's beyond his scope. He mentioned I should probably call a tow truck so I've been looking at reviews."

Anthony glanced outside his window, frowning at the rapidly darkening sky. "That sounds like a good idea. after you call whoever, I can drive over so you have a ride once they've towed yours"

Ian responded quickly, "No don't worry I'm all good."

Definitely must have a ride then, Anthony thought. Still, he had to make sure. "Oh good, you've got a ride then?"

There was a long pause, so Anthony set his phone down, glancing at the setting sun again and went to get some water from the kitchen.

Coming back in to his phone, he checked his messages, and-

"No, I'll probably just Uber."

Anthony was flabbergasted. "Why?? Don't worry man it's no problem for me to pick you up. Let me know where you're at." It was actually just straight up dark outside at this point. "Is the AAA guy still there??"

"Nah he's gone. Waiting on the tow truck."

Alone in the middle-of-nowhere Los Angeles? Anthony thought, In the dark? Worry flared up in his chest and the pacing began.

"Ian, just drop me your map pin and I'll head over."

"It's chill, I'm not in a rush to get home." Ian replied, not a care in the world.

Anthony resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. "that's not really the point??"

Suddenly a picture was loading in on the messages.

Anthony braced himself for a lackadaisical gif (and yes, he pronounced it jif like god and the creator intended) but was greeted instead with a horrendous selfie of Ian holding the phone at an angle an inch from his chin, smiling at him. The artificial light from his phone lit up the interior of his car behind him. Anthony couldn't help but laugh, even as the worry churned in his stomach. Another message followed.

"Don't worry. I'm a big boy now, all grown up and everything."

Anthony considered wracking his brains for a daddy joke, but decided Ian didn't deserve it right now. He grabbed his keys and wallet, flicked off the living room light, and left, locking his door behind him. As he walked toward his car, he jabbed the call button.

It rang only twice before Ian picked up. Anthony heard him take a breath to speak and didn't give him a chance. "Ian, just tell me where you're at, I'm heading to my car now."

"I-" Ian sounded surprised. There was a moment of rustling on the other end, then Anthony was clearly put on speaker as Ian's voice echoed slightly through the call. "Anthony, really, it's fine. The tow truck people have an ETA of like 15 minutes and then I'll call the Uber while they're hooking the car up."

Anthony, now at his car, pressed his eyes closed for a second in annoyance as he clicked his key. He hoped Ian could hear the pointed little beep-beep of his car unlocking in response.

"You really don't have to go out of your way to come get me," Ian continued, undeterred. "I didn't mean to derail your whole night with this," He laughed.

Anthony got in the car and leaned his head on his steering wheel in despair. "Ian."

"What?" Ian asked.

Anthony began to laugh despite himself, "I don't understand," He laughed harder, pushing the words out. "Why won't you just let me pick you up? I've asked you like five times!"

There was a moment of silence from Ian's end, and Anthony knew Ian was processing just how ridiculous this had become. Ian started snickering. Then they were both just laughing, Anthony holding the phone tight to his ear as Ian's laughter poured from it, his other hand ready to turn the car on.

"So," Anthony caught his breath, "So can you -please- drop me a map pin so I can come get you?"

"Alright, alright." Ian said.

Ian's voice was soft and breathless from his laughter. Anthony had spent a long time learning how to properly relish the beautiful moments in his life. The sound of Ian's voice right now, echoing slightly through the phone? That was one of those moments.

Anthony's phone pinged. "There. You happy?"

"Finally, my god." Anthony pulled the phone away to check. "Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Great," Ian said. "I think the tow truck gets here right about then." Anthony could still hear the smile in his voice. "I'll be here, waiting for you to rescue me."