#something something is secretly a little glad it worked out that way though because otherwise he never would have gotten to meet me

[saturdays--sun]

actually, since the iteration of me that's with saturday is just. Me with no additives. i'm adding in whatever the hell happened today with the job i was applying for into her lore. that was the catalyst for her moving + getting her silly little bookstore job that eventually led to us meeting. dodged a bullet and a blessing in disguise all in one <3

[natalievoncatte]

Kara had a guilty pleasure, one she didn’t share with anyone. It would have been awkward, and besides, everyone- friends, family, Lena; they all would have mocked her, relentlessly. It was the first of September and Kara was bracing herself for six months of the most exquisite torture.

She wasn’t expecting it on Lena’s desk.

When she walked into the office, the scent hit her. It tickled something in her brain and set her nerves alight, cascading shivers of excitement running down her limbs.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. The most obvious implication of this is Kryptonite, or rather the Kryptonite radiation it emits, which is unique to Kara’s lost homeworld and is deadly poisonous to her while being essentially harmless to humans without both significant and prolonged exposure.

There were, however, other things that Kara responded to differently. Certain flavors were too intense; some things her peers found pleasant were overwhelming or inexplicably bitter or otherwise unpalatable. Her enhanced hearing, even without her powers active, made her sensitive to noises that a human wouldn’t even notice. The list went on and on.

One thing in particular, though, was especially… stimulating to her. It got her motor going, as it were. Not like that, of course. Ironically it had the same effect on her that caffeine had on humans, even in small quantities.

There was something in pumpkin spice that excited Kara. Just not like that.

Okay, maybe a little like that. Even the scent of it made her feel things, and there was a steaming hot cup of it on Lena Luthor’s desk.

Kara had been summoned over some editorial matter of little consequence, probably an excuse to chat. When she stepped into her office, Kara stopped dead because Lena reached across her desk and picked up that cup and Kara was already having trouble.

Lena was… Lena. She was dressed in thigh high boots and black jeans and a tight, low cut green sweater that revealed a generous swell of cleavage that immediately drew Kara’s brazen eye. She caught herself looking and quickly put a stop to it, but Lena was looking right at her, smoldering green eyes peering at her over the rim of that damned coffee cup.

Great Rao, Lena was beautiful. Her hair was swept over one shoulder, baring the elegant column of her neck and her sharp jawline. Her visible ear carried multiple piercings dripping with diamonds and there was a faint pink tinge to her pale cheek. The red of her lipstick was almost violent and she positively smoldered. One might have thought she was dolled up for a photo shoot.

Kara was staring at those lips as she took a sip of coffee, leaving a faint white stain on the white cup.

Such a visual feast with the mere scent of the spices in her coffee was enough to weaken Kara’s knees and make her secretly fidget her toes inside her shoes. It was only a quick chat, a five minute conversation, but it was excruciating trying to get through it like this.

“Earth to Kara,” Lena sighed.

Kara blinked. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll go?”

“Where am I going?”

Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Kara, you’re benched.”

“Wait, what?”

Lena huffed. “Look, it’s noble, going days without sleep while you live your double life, and we did agree that Supergirl duties will take precedence over your work here… but I can see you’re exhausted. I can’t order you to stop rescuing cats from trees and helping old ladies with their taxes, but I can order you to take the rest of the week off from working here. Which you are. Starting now.”

Actually, Lena probably could order her to stop doing things. Lena could probably order to do anything with the spicy tang in her nostrils and the quivering weakness in her limbs as heat gathered low in her belly. Kara was glad that she had just been ordered out.

“Oh,” Lena said, “and stop at Noonan’s on your way out. I hear the pumpkin spice lattes are your favorite and well,” she gave her cup a little shake.

Kara decided she would not stop at Noonan’s.

She stopped at Noonan’s. She got a PSL and a pumpkin spice bear claw and a dozen pumpkin spice donuts and consumed them all in the span of five minutes once she set foot inside her loft, after which she spent the next thirty in the shower thinking about Lena’s pillowy red lips and how kissable they were and her pale skin and how badly she wanted to mark it as hers and she sort of spent an hour in a pumpkin spice fueled fugue, and then passed out on her bed buck-ass naked.

Which was where she still was when the knock came at the door.

Her head shot up from the bed and she realized that it was movie night and she was hosting. She had no movies picked out, no snacks, and no clothes.

What she did have was super-speed, and this had a spread of frozen snacks ready to go in the oven, and a stack of blu-rays to be voted on, and pants. She needed pants and probably a bra and definitely a shirt. Humans were weird about their torsos. Fortunately Kryptonians were, too. Kara was rather lucky that she hadn’t landed on a planet that considered shirts obscene.

There were at least two like that, which isn’t a lot, but it was more than you’d think.

Kara opened the door and greeted Alex and Kelly, ushering them in. Brainy and Nia were next.

Lena showed up last, dressed in one of her peculiar movie night fits- a stylish leather jacket over honest to god fluffy pajamas, like a fashion plate going to a slumber party. Her hair was down and wavy and she looked soft and inviting and Kara wanted to snuggle her relentlessly and was very glad that the pumpkin spice was largely out of her system.

Largely.

Oh.

Lena lifted the two six packs she was carrying, giving Kara a suggestive arch of her eyebrow. Lena liked to bring gifts when Kara hosted, usually wine. Tonight she had twelve chilled bottles of… pumpkin spice beer.

Kara wanted to scream. Or possibly moan. Or possibly make Lena moan and maybe spank her a little.

Fuck!

“Hi-hi,” said Kara.

“Hi yourself,” said Lena. “Mind if I come in, or do you want to drink these right here?”

“C-come in,” said Kara.

“Eyyyyyy,” said Alex, as she saw the six packs. “The spice must flow!”

“The spice must flow,” Kelly repeated.

“Chai Hulud,” Nia said, in a faux-deep voice.

“I believe it is “Shai Hulud,” said Brainy.

“Sure, honey,” said Nia, patting his knee.

“You gonna hand those out?” said Alex.

“These are for our host,” said Lena. “Kara has plenty of spirits in her fridge.”

Alex busted out laughing, confusing the others.

Kara remained stone-faced.

Movie night then went on as normal. Everyone took seats, the first movie was voted on, snacks were enjoyed and beers were had. The pumpkin bottles sat in their cardboard holders in the fridge, untouched.

Until they got into the second movie, and Lena sauntered over from the kitchen carrying two bottles, and thrust one into Kara’s hands as she wedged herself in between Kara and Nia, casually tossing her legs over Kara’s lap.

Kara steadfastly did not look. She would not look. She would not look. Surely Lena was just making herself comfortable and private hadn’t noticed that the top couple of buttons on her pajama top had popped themselves and she was showing quite a generous amount of…

Kara looked away sharply. She had looked.

“Do the thing, darling,” said Lena.

“Do the thing! Do the thing! Do they thing!” Nia began to chant.

Sighing, Kara took her bottle and Lena’s, and popped the caps loose with a flock of her thumbs. Lena squealed in delight and Kara realized that actually drinking this concoction was an amazingly terrible idea.

Especially since Lena was basically in her lap now.

Kara tried not to drink, but the hint of that spicy scent from the beer was enough to make every nerve ending tingle and start a fire in her belly. She took a long pull on it and quickly realized she’d drained the bottle in one go.

Lena, grinning, stood up. Kara watched every sway of her hips as she marched to the kitchen, bent to grab another bottle from the bottom shelf of the fridge, and sashayed back to shamelessly plop right in Kara’s lap and offer her the new bottle.

The little display has gotten at least Alex’s attention, and she looked somehow at once horrified and amused and whispered to Kelly, who snorted.

Nia picked up on it next, after Kara had downed her fourth one of the cured pumpkin brews and her brain was sloshing around in sweet cinnamony goodness.

She was running into a considerable problem. Lena was curled up in her lap, draped across her in fact, a soft weight that was driving her absolute insane even as the scent of Lena’s… of Lena mingled with the spices singing in her veins. She forgot the movie. She forgot the existence of everything but Lena, and barely noticed when Alex announced,

“Guys, it’s late. I think we better head out so that Kara and Lena can clean up.”

“Perhaps we should help,” Brainy suggested.

“Nah, let’s go,” said Nia, who then muttered, “seriously Querl we need to go.”

Kara blinked and watched them all pile out, Alex shooting Lena a knowing look before rolling her eyes and closing the door.

Two seconds after the door closed, Lena twisted languidly in Kara’s lap, and was now no longer sitting in her lap but straddling her.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. They also have anatomical structures that humans do not, something that was was currently causing Kara to blush furiously, because Lena was well… sitting on it.

“I can explain,” Kara squeaked.

The look Lena gave her would have been devastating, pumpkin spice or no pumpkin spice. Lena’s face filled her vision as Lena placed her hands on Kara’s sides and rolled her hips, dragging a groan out of her.

“Is that explanation going to include a hands on demonstration?” said Lena. “I may need a few rounds before I fully understand.”

Kara swallowed hard. “You mean… you w-want to…”

“Kara,” Lena sighed. “How is someone who’s been flirting with me for five years so bad at flirting?”

Kara stared at her.

“Just, um, to clarify, you’re flirting with me, right?”

“I’m sitting in your lap unbuttoning my top, darling. I believe that qualifies.”

“You’re what?”

Lena grinned and swept her fingers down her chest, popping the rest of the buttons in sequence. The pajama top suddenly hung lose, baring the lush inner curves of her breasts while obscuring the rest of her in an agonizing promise.

Kara, finally, after years of this, took the hint and had Lena relieved of her fuzzy pajamas by the time they hit the bed.

The next morning, or rather next afternoon when Lena woke up, Kara looked over at her. Her eyes had just opened and she was grinning ear to ear.

“Lena?” said Kara.

“Yes? Before we go again I’m going to need a protein shake and some supplements.”

Kara felt her ears burning as her cheeks heated.

“Did you know about the pumpkin spice thing?”

“Pumpkin spice thing?” said Lena.

“Alex told you, right?”

Lena pursed her lips.

“Nope.”

“Cat Grant?”

“No, although I did ask her and she said you, and I quote, ‘creamed your khakis’ in front of her one time.”

“Then who?”

Lena grinned.

“I went to Clark to ask him the right way to go about seeking your attentions. Lois overheard and pulled me aside. Apparently you two share the same weaknesses.”

“My only weakness is you, baby.”

“Oh, it’s baby now, is it?”

“Yup,” said Kara.

[scoops404]

Aaaahhh I just finished ‘Merry Men Making Merry’ (otherwise known as MMMM) and I’m so hyped about it!!! I had so much fun reading it, your world-building is amazing, so impressive!

As I said I’m a big fan of the story of Robin Hood and it brings back childhood memories. I like that you can read your fic without having any knowledge of the original story, but if you do have knowledge of it it’s so much fun to recognize parts. Like BBH being friar Tuck had me cackling, it’s perfect!

I always love how you write Larray, I can literally hear him in my head with the way you write him 🤭

Oooh and don’t get me started on the ingenuity of incorporating their background stories through flashbacks, that really made the story come to life for me.

//“You gave me a purpose,” Dream tells him, barely audible over the cracking and popping of the fire. The wind almost carries the words away, but George heard them. They’re his now.//

This is probably my favorite part in the fic. For a moment there you had me fooled because of how the og story ends, but your ending was literally perfect. Anyway, I don’t want to spoil too much and I’ve been going on for too long so for anyone reading this ask please go read the fic, you will not regret it!

Thank you Scoops for giving us such a wonderful story again, you’re amazing!

(All that’s missing was the map of the realms at the beginning of the story, haha)

MMMM because it's finger lickin' good!!! Lol no that's so cringe omg

Spoilers under the cut!

I really wanted to write Robin Hood and I was blessed to get the prompt (It was one of those challenged where you give your top 3 preference and then get assigned one). I knew I could write something actiony/adventury because I LOOOVE writing those and I think I'm pretty good at it. Cc!DNF don't really lend themselves to action and adventure but AU versions of them do. Deep in Dream and The Mushroom King and the Nightmare were some of my favorite stories to write. Like, fully obsessed while I was writing them and working on the world building, and MMMM reminded me heavily of those vibes.

I have seen the DIsney animated movie, of course, and also "Men In Tights" and both of those stories kind of spoof the already famous tropes of Robin Hood, so I did some digging --aka I watched an hour long youtube video essay about the evolution of Robin Hood lore-- and dove in. I wanted to add elements from different "canons" - like Robin Hood being secretly a nobleman. I also didn't want this story to be 100K words (which, as you know, I could easily accidentally do) so I decided for the plot, we would center around something fun-- stealing something, since that's what he's known for. I didn't know how to make George Maid Marian because obviously he has to be the love interest, OBVIOUSLY lol, so once I changed it to Maid Marian being Dream's sister, it all kind of fell into place.

However, I also wanted to see *how* they became the Merry Men, I think that's really interesting and integral to the story, and thus the flashbacks were born. I really don't like flashbacks, both in reading and writing, I think they can be done very very well (Hi Luci!), but normally i just find them really boring, so I had to keep them short and action packed to keep everyone's attention.

BBH as Friar Tuck -- fit tooooo perfectly, I just had to. I went back and forth on George or Sapnap being Little John and then decided it didn't really matter ultimately, they both kind of fill that role. Though, George kind of also rounds out the "Robin Hood" persona --please note that he gets mistaken for Robin Hood at least once in the fic!

I had a blast writing this one and, not going to lie, it got away from me for a while, but @rebelwithoutabroom helped pull me back lol.

Thank you so much for such a lovely review of the story! I'm so glad you liked it <3

(Yes, next time will add a map, though i have no idea what it all would look like so that will add like 5 months onto things. Also, multiple realms, what was I thinking?!)

[ladyhindsight]

It has become increasingly difficult to make progress with this book. It’s the sort of slump I get into with each installment, which is ridiculous considering how much time I actually spend thinking about the series and forming my thoughts. But hey, back again with another chapter.

One of the reasons why returning to the story sucks is that I remember this book better than City of Fallen Angels, and I don’t know how to internally deal with how bad the storylines of (especially) Alec, Maia, and Jordan are. But as always, let’s give it a go anyway.

The chapter opens with Alec having secretly slipped away from his post in order to meet up with Camille and accost her about the spell that could make Magnus mortal. At this moment, there is no narrative reason to think Alec is playing Camille in order to learn more about Magnus (unlike Clare once states that that was the very reason why Alec went to repeatedly see Camille), and considering that the only thing Alec inquiries about is the spell itself, that whole idea holds little water as of now. Anyway.

→ No comma before “and”

→ Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Being gay does not mean you cannot appreciate female beauty or “appeal” since not everything is about physical attraction anyway. Also, funny but petulant: “I guess you’re beautiful, but I hate you so, no.”

→ This is also inconsistent with an earlier scene with Alec and Camille in the book where it says that "She was as beautiful as Alec remembered her."

Propping up Jace and also tooting your own horn. Additionally, Jace’s “cleverly disguised put-downs” are never cleverly disguised, they are always just plain old and rude put-downs.

Imagine being so jealous that you have to bully a teenager. Also, let’s leave Jace’s amazingness out of this. And no, that wasn’t something. That isn’t anything.

Imagine being so jealous—and inappropriate—that you have to flaunt your previous sex life with the ex to a teenager. Also no comma before ‘and’.

→ Considering if there is such a spell at all, why isn’t everyone just taking other people’s immortalities away left and right? Use your brain, Alec.

→ Shadowhunters can learn to work spells (like Valentine, hello?)

→ I like how Alec does not question at all how this supposed spell even works, like how would Magnus know who it was? This storyline and dialogue are so asinine that Clare wasn’t even trying to make it anything.

Alec and Camille reach an impasse, and we cut to Isabelle and Jocelyn making their way to the Adamant Citadel.

Because Jocelyn is uh-mazing. If there is one thing we have learned about Shadowhunters is that they have to rigorously train when they are teenagers but once they become adults, all the training ceases because they have apparently reached the max capacity in skill that never deteriorates. See: every adult Shadowhunter in the series ever.

The only reason why Isabelle might currently dislike Jocelyn is the fact that Jocelyn refused her the information about Robert’s affair, but otherwise there is nothing narrative-wise (considering that later in the chapter Isabelle brings up this fact again).

Also I don’t understand how any of these clauses are related:

→ Jocelyn was only a step behind her, (she was nimble and fast)

→ and as aggravating as Isabelle found Clary’s mother, (Isabelle is annoyed by Jocelyn. Additionally, I really dislike constantly calling Jocelyn what has basically become her moniker, Clary’s Mother)

→ she was glad in a moment, when Jocelyn raised her hand and a witchlight rune-stone blazed forth… (Isabelle, though being annoyed by Jocelyn, is glad that she illuminates the space?)

Okay, great. But why was Isabelle glad about it? She wasn’t worried about not knowing where they had arrived, she wasn’t afraid of their strange surroundings, she wasn’t anything about anything.

→ Then a portion of the wall slid back

Per Collins Dictionary: “You use as well when mentioning something which happens in the same way as something else already mentioned, or which should be considered at the same time as that thing.”

Per Cambridge Dictionary: also; too

→ What do you mean demon-stone as well? What is demon-stone? Another name for adamas like the demon towers in Alicante?  I can’t remember (nor find) an instance where any material, especially adamas, was referred to as demon-stone. So you now just figured to call adamas demon-stone?

See the point above. What is demon wire?

→ Iron Sisters should have the courtesy of calling people with their preferred and up to date names. But barely anyone in the series actually do so anyway.

→ Being outcast means being ostracized by the society or a group, which Jocelyn sort of is, but also no because she left on her own volition. She wasn’t rejected or cast out. Also she had the freedom to prance around Alicante in City of Glass and no one made a huge fuss nor intended to escort her back to the border.

→ I also don’t particularly like the style of Cleophas’ speech, just complaining on my part

→ Meaning Silent Brothers can read minds whenever

→ Meaning Iron Sisters can read minds elsewhere but in the Citadel. Do they though?

→ Also Jace Lightwood, woooo

→ Fingers of her hands as opposed to fingers of her feet??

→ …fiery gaze. Her fingers were very long—not elegantly…

→ …adamas wall. A second Iron Sister stepped through, as if emerging from a haze of white smoke.

→ though her hair was gray and the ends of her two braids bound by gold wire.

Because what the hell is that original mess of a blurb.

→ It is a very shitty thing to entrap an angel, don’t do that.

→ In case you happen to do so, you could never force it to do your bidding.

→ You cannot force them to give you holy weapons but you can take something (undefined) by force

Okay, makes sense… until later.

The Sisters tell Isabelle and Jocelyn the nature of the demonic bond between Sebastian and Jace, essentially what everyone had already gathered but like, really honing it in.

→ Isabelle throws a Clary-esque tantrum at the Sisters and storms off very Clary-esque way.

Again, Isabelle not much liking Jocelyn though they have never interacted in any meaningful way, never built any sort of relationship where Isabelle would dislike Jocelyn for any reason, so again, there’s no reason for any of this narrative-wise.

I’ve said before and I’ll say it again: Jocelyn is a prop character, a plot point, an exposition regurgitator. There is no reason why she would even know about any of this. See this post.

We cut to Clary in the magic house, and Jace comes to get her from her room.

These sort of musings make me rip my hair out (figuratively) because these are so wholly empty and meaningless thoughts in order to add drama and flare and angst. Clary know Jace is not himself, he is somehow, someway tied to Sebastian and is not behaving right at all. So yes, he must be happy!! Why is she here to save him at all from all this happiness with Sebastian!!!!! Good lord.

Not much happens then, Jace takes Clary out on a date, and we cut to Maia and Jordan arriving at the Praetor headquarters. The word “alpha” did not age well and I cringe every time it is used.

Yes, it is, in fact, bad. This is not the time to gaslight yourself.

→ which was build a blocks of golden stone (stop filtering)

I love that we are getting brand new werewolf facts like the eyes and the protein intake in the FIFTH INSTALLMENT OF THIS SERIES.

Then cut to the Gang discussing the findings of the chapter:

→ If you happen to summon an angel, prepare to be blasted with divine wrath

→ but remember, you can take weapons by force, unless you get blasted, you know, with the divine wrath

→ Did you know that two things can be true at once? The ritual allows you to summon Raziel (because it does, duh) and be protected from his divine blasting. Also why the fuck did Raziel give means to summon him if his going to be a little bitch about it.

CLARY’S MOTHER. MY DAUGHTER.

→ Just use their names, please.

Oh my god, how does he know anything. Not like he hasn’t been sharing almost esoteric knowledge before in the series, and Alec finds it himself to be surprised by it only now.

Wow, I truly loathe this. Surprise

[snailsrneat]

Hello! if it's alright with you, may i have twisted wonderland matchup? no pressure though, you can skip if you'd like.

My pronouns are she/her and my body leans towards a chubbier look. I have light brown skin, with dark brown hair and eyes. I usually like to wear dresses that fluctuate between cutesy and punk.

My mbti is INFJ and zodiac sign is cancer! For a basic rundown of my personality, I'm told by close friends and family around me that I'm really caring and hardworking. I usually like to help people, which ends up with me acting as a mom friend or a listener to someone's problems. I'm also said to be really hardworking, especially when it's something I'm passionate about. But I'm also told that I'm perfectionistic, private, and anxious. I can easily burn out if I don't keep myself in check, as I prefer to do finish things with excellence quality. It also may take a while for others to get to know me because I'm shy and reserved about myself. Not to mention I overanalyze a lot.

For my interests, two basic interests I really like are music and books! While for specific interests, I really like Hadestown (+ bunch of others) and creative writing.

Thank you so much and have a great day/night/afternoon!! please excuse me though if I've made a mistake in my matchup. also, your blog is very much underrated and I love your works ^_^

You have been matched up with...

Silver

------------------------------

You and Silver are like, the perfect couple.

On one hand you have yourself, a very stressed and anxious person.

Then you have Silver, the most calming human to ever exist.

It's perfect.

Y'all would have study dates all the time.

And he'd easily recognize whenever you were burnt out and he'd just pick you up with his beefy arms and lay you down gently on the bed and cuddle you whilst petting your hair.

It would be so cute.

The way I imagine you to meeting is through a school project.

You guys were assigned together for a project and at first it was a bit awkward given that, at the time, you two barely knew each other.

But soon you guys became acquainted with each other, and while you didn't know each other well, you both held admiration for one another.

You guys began hanging out more and more, mostly due to Lilia playing match-maker.

Soon you began to open up to him and that's truly when he fell in love.

Lilia had to Silver's hype-man because otherwise Silver would've probably just never said anything and stayed in the friend-zone.

He confessed though and it was really sweet.

Lilia 100% approves of y'alls relationship, and even is secretly planning y'alls wedding.

Malleus is really glad that Silver has someone like you by his side but is a little jealous.

Sebek, well, he's Sebek.

All in all y'all are too cute for me to handle.

-----------------------------

[shotorozu]

you like their hands

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, kirishima eijirou, monoma neito (2/?)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, quirk left unmentioned

post type : headcanons + small scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice] not even nsfw

note(s) : i was gonna put denki in this but i had a hard time thinking about what kinda hands he’d have, so i’m putting him in the next post

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

his hands are big, and his fingers are quite thick.

really likes wearing rings and bracelets, but he usually doesn’t wear them when he’s working (i’d say that bc wearing jewelry while doing physical activity HURTS)

regarding texture, his hands were initially soft— but due to transferring in the hero course, they roughened up over time

he’ll use hand cream if you want, but he doesn’t go the extra mile. and his nails are trimmed at all times. painting his nails a black color would be great once in a while.

lol i forgot to mention nails in the last post

he notices right away that you like his hands when he catches you staring at them when he’s cracking his knuckles

like.. people have said that his hands are nice, but he doesn’t really say much about them bc they’re not you

scenario

a crack sound is briefly heard in the rather silent room. the scrolling on your phone halts, and your eyes follow the sound of the crack.

ah, he’s cracking his knuckles. you think to yourself, and you’re left just simply admiring the way he applies pressure on a knuckle. who knew that his rather— large hand would look appealing, even while cracking his knuckles.

you snap out of your observation, but instead of just simply going back to whatever you were doing, you’re met with lilac eyes. “you were staring again.”

your cheeks heat up, and you opt to just turn your head to the opposite direction. “sorry,” you apologize. however— that’s not what hitoshi was looking for apparantly.

“if you like my hands alot,” he scoots next to you, hands sliding up and down your arms— his firm grip practically making the pre existing butterflies in your stomach act up again. “then you should’ve said so, kitty.”

is he conscious of his actions? hm. you could say that

he’ll purposely play with his capture tool right in front of you— the material wrapping around his hand. and he can only laugh when you immediately get absorbed into it

the back of his hand will brush against your cheek. then, when he comes in to kiss you, he’ll cup your cheek— kissing you with his other hand resting at your nape

under the table, his hand will start to slide against yours, interlocking hands with you. he’ll act like nothing is happening, but on the inside— he’s taking in your reaction

a little spicy, but when he wants you to look at him— he’ll do that thing where his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, as it almost dips right into your mouth

if he feels a little extra, his hand will also be tugging on your hair (if you’re fine with that. otherwise, he’s sticking to the one above)

oh and he also does that thing where he rests his hand on your neck, thick fingers squeezing your throat lightly.

overall— THIS MAN omg, he’ll entertain your interest in his hand nicely, just for you. and every single thing he does is memorable

kirishima eijirou

his hands are quite normal regarding size, they are almost always veiny, a lot more than bakugou’s actually. i think at some point he was concerned about them

his hands are rather flushed in color, but that’s because of his quirk. his fingers have a few tiny scars here and there,

he occasionally has pen marks on his wrists due to bad penmanship, and his nails.. don’t look the best, but they’re not the worst it’s bc of his quirk

the palms of his hands are ridden with callouses. but he wears them with pride because it’s the pure evidence of his hard work with his training.

but he starts to get worried about them when he goes to hold your hand.

you always had a thing for kirishima’s hands, but you just never had the chance to tell him that. i guess asking you did it for him

scenario

did you even realize how hard you were staring at his hands right now? it happened every single time he enlaced his arms around you, his hands resting at the sides of your arms

at first, he thought it might’ve been because his hands are too rough, or you might’ve been in discomfort— because maybe, just maybe, he accidentally activated his quirk?

the fact that he can’t exactly tell what it is worried him, maybe he should just ask you.

but his worry washed off when you told him upfront that you ‘liked his hands’

“wait so.. you’re staring at my hands because you like them?” kirishima wants to confirm your words, and— so casually, by the way— nod in agreement.

tracing the veins on his hands, you elaborate “your hands are really nice, i can tell how hard you must’ve worked.” pressing your smaller hand against his, you smile.

eijirou takes a moment to process it, but it’s surprisingly quick. “oh t-thanks!” he sheepishly took the compliment, a small blush sporting on his cheeks. “i’m glad it wasn’t because you thought they were weird.”

kirishima unintentionally feeds your interest with his hands. like sometimes.. he’s just not aware of it, but yes— he is feeding your interest well

will always make you compare hand sizes with him, chuckling softly at the dazed look on your face when your palms touch

if you allow him, he’ll fix your hair for you. doesn’t matter what hair type you have, he’ll do LOTS of research to know how to style it

those hands are magical

if you get a papercut, or a wound from cooking— he’ll patch you up, then he’ll press a kiss on the bandaid.

he’ll do this thing where he’ll squeeze your sides when you pull in for a hug. but if you’re not okay with that, he’ll opt to just rubbing your back with his hand— rocking you softly as he hugs you

a little spicy, but his hands do wander a lot. you might need to even hold them in place to make sure they don’t go too wild

in addition to that, he’ll just SLIGHTLY, activate his quirk to make sure you’re conscious of his touch. his finger tips gliding against your back, sending shivers down your spine.

but of course, he’s careful. he doesn’t activate it to the point it causes scratch marks, nor will his actions draw blood. he doesn’t wanna do that

in short— kirishima’s a little clueless at first. he wouldn’t really tease you in public, but he’s surprisingly attentive to your interest.

monoma neito

his hands are on the tipping edge of slightly above average. he doesn’t have a lot of veins on his hands, but they do pop out depending on what quirk he’s using

monoma’s hands are pretty spotless of any scars (from cuts, abrasions, etc.) because he gets REALLY annoyed with wounds pretty easily

to the point he’d want to attend to the wound immediately, he doesn’t let them sit— it’s just a personal preference

his nails are at the perfect length. not too long and not too short to the point it hurts, you don’t know how he does it.

wears watches on his wrists, and not the digital type— he sorta acts like he can read it easily, but it takes him a few seconds to even get to know the time

you know this because kendo snitched on him and told you LOL

you secretly hate yourself for this, but you really like his hands because of how he takes care of them. you’d never tell monoma even though you’re dating him

scenario

you’re unsure of yourself on how your boyfriend— monoma, found out about your fascination with his hands. it was supposed to be a secret for the rest of your life, and you only remember talking about it once out loud

which you assumed was a close call, considering that you thought he didn’t hear it at all— but he did.

“so i heard you like my hands, huh Y/N?” monoma’s teasing tone does not aid the situation. your cheeks heat up with embarassment, and you can’t get yourself to answer his question— without sounding like a fool anyway.

you fake annoyance, “where’d that come from?” you ask, and monoma doesn’t seem to want to switch the topic

“i’m asking you a question, dear Y/N— i heard you like my hands,” his tone would’ve sounded condescending to any other person, but you can tell that he’s either genuinely curious

or just teasing you, because that’s how he is.

to aid his question, he brushes his fingers along your neck— near your pulse. you jolt, stunned by the sudden action— heart beating rapidly against your chest.

“see,” monoma presses his hand against your chest, where your heart is palpitating, grinning in a way that’s teasing you “it’s true, isn’t it? sweet Y/N has a thing for my hands, hm?”

you furrow your eyebrows, and flick his forehead— and he hisses in reaction, “fine then, i do like your hands.” you finally give in, admitting final defeat.

ever since then, you haven’t heard the end of it

definitely that person that’ll just randomly bring it up to you, no matter what hour of the day it is.

“oh Y/N, you were totally fawning over my hands earlier—”

“i will castrate you.”

you know he means well most of the time, but sometimes he just loves teasing the heck out of you.

but that doesn’t mean he neglects your obvious interest in his hands.

he’ll compliment you, he’s a snarky person in general— but to you, he’s totally smooth with it.

slides his hand from your forearm to your hands, only to bring them up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your hand

squeezes your hand everytime he sees you, it’s kind of a nonverbal greeting at this point

similar to kirishima, he likes comparing hand sizes— teasing you about the size difference (even if it’s not even a big of a difference, he’ll take that chance.)

does this thing where he rubs his thumb against his palm. does it a lot when he’s concentrated about something, or just out of the blue

a little spicy, but he’ll make you tell him what you like about his hands, and what you like about the things he does with those hands of his. if that makes sense

he wants all of the details, doesn’t care if it’s mundane, or things he does when he’s feeling a certain way.

he wants to know, because as soon as you’re done with your spewl, he’ll do exactly what you like, teasing you while he’s at it. and so he can start incorporating those habits whenever he’s around you.

totally someone that’ll make you suck on those fingers. oh, but he’ll purposely get some dessert on them— asking you to suck them off

“good grief, i got some dessert on my fingers again. Y/N, come suck them off”

sometimes he’s serious, sometimes he’s just teasing.

overall— it’s pretty adventurous. he starts to act on it as soon as the revelation is revealed to him.

but i’d say he does just fine.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work for audio readings without my consent :))

[floraltypes]

OHSHC Meeting The Parents

Who - ohshc hosts x reader

Type - fluff !

Summary - the hosts meeting your parents

AN - my requests are open so request something!

unedited :/

Tamaki

You had told Tamaki that your mother was dying to meet him

The woman wouldn’t stop asking you questions regarding him after you dropped a hint you were dating someone

So, one day she threatened to lower your allowance if you wouldn’t invite him over

Hence, why you are running around with trying to finish up your hair and the maid trying to help is stressing herself since you won’t sit down

When the doorbell was rung the butler quickly opened it and your mother and you both rushed down the stairs to try and get there first

Tamaki looked nervous in the beginning but his eyes lit up once they landed on your figure

“Y/n!” He called out, jumping a bit

Tamaki was very much dressed for the occasion, no surprise, and cleaned up well

You mother put a hand on her heart while Tamaki squished you into his arms

“So adorable, my little y/n,” Your mother cooed

“Uh, Tamaki, I can’t breathe,” He let you go quickly, put kept his arms on your shoulders

He soon realized that your mother was there and quickly turned around bowing a few times and apologizing for not greeting her sooner

“No worries dear, why don’t we go to the dining room to begin eating. Y/n’s father will be later due to work,” Your mother told him

The three of you sat at the larger table, Tamaki sitting right besides you

Your mother asked him many questions and he happily answered, staring at you most of the time and your mother could just tell how much he was in love

She thought he was so cute on how he kept asking you questions throughout dinner to involve you in the conversation like ‘what is your favorite class?’ ‘Y/n, you like that game too, as well, correct?’ ‘Y/n sure is very intelligent!’

Your father ended up being very late and didn’t eat with you three

You and Tamaki decided to go to a one of your extra rooms where there was a large TV and couch

You both sat down besides each other and watched something on the television, Tamaki holding your hand

At one point, Tamaki was trying to reach over you to reach a drink on the table besides you, but it ended up being farther than he thought and he feel ontop of you

He looked up from your legs with a awkward, yet cute, smile

At that exact moment the doors swung open and your father walked in

“I apologize for being late, your mother said the boy was in he- why are you laying inappropriately on top of my child?”

“Uh, i-, no, never!”

Let’s say your father didn’t think the highest of Tamaki like your mother did…

Kyoya

You were both working on some homework one day when you brought up the idea

“Do you think it’s about time to meet my parents?”

“Should I?” He asked back

To be honest, Kyoya knew he was a respectable man and knew how to behave, but still had some nerves

You also didn’t want to exactly have to sit through a long dinner with your boring parents who only knew how to talk about business deals and money, but it would be something your family would eventually ask you

When it came time, you were meeting Kyoya and his parents at a restaurant with your own

When the two of you viewed each-other your eyes lit up a little

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Kyoya’s father greeted, bowing in front of your parents who soon exchanged the gesture

You greeted Kyoya’s father, your second time seeing Kyoya’s parents again after the dinner you had with them not too long ago

“Y/n,” Kyoya pulled out the chair for you, which you soon sat down on and he sat right beside you, your other side being taken by your mother

“Kyoya, you’re the youngest, correct?” Your father quickly asked, sending a glare

“I am the youngest son, yes,”

“Ah, so you should know what competition is like,”

“I do,”

“Good because they’re many men competing for my daughters hand in marriage,” He laughed, soon turning his attention back to your mother who was chatting with Kyoya’s parents

He mumbled something to himself and grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his

You rubbed small patterns with your pointer finger as a quiet way to reassure him, sending a small smile which seemed to lighten his mood highly

He knew that with you competition seemed worth it, something he was willing to put up with as long as having a chance with you is the prize

When the two of your guys’s families were getting to depart, Kyoya turned to your father before leaving

“I know competition, and I’m very successful in all types of it, I will win the competition for your daughters hand, I just hope you will be able to accept the victor,”

Hikaru

Telling Hikaru that your mother found it important for her to meet him seemed ridiculous to him

Both of your parents weren’t apart of the relationship, so what should it matter what they think of the other

You loved him and he loved you, he didn’t need anyone else to say otherwise

“Come on Hikaru! My mother will continue to bother me until you finally agree,”

“Only if you promise me something,” He quickly told you, snickering secretly at his brilliant plan

“Anything, I’m so tired of her complaining,”

“A kiss,”

You quickly moved your lips to hover in front of his and connected into a sweet and short kiss

His cheeks brightened to a vibrant pink and he scowled turning his head away

“Not now,” He mumbled.

A week later he was outside your door with a cocky smile and a bouquet in hand, (advice from Kaoru)

“Hello, Mr and Miss L/n,” He bowed, handing the bouquet to your mother

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you son,” Your father put a hand on his shoulder

“Son?” Hikaru asked silently, looking at you with confusion

“My father always wanted a boy,” You tell him, laughing a little

“You look nice Miss L/n,” Hikaru complimented your mother, already

“Oh Y/n, he is so kind!”

Though at first, Hikaru thought meeting your parents was ridiculous, now he’s laughing with them at some joke your father made and being invited over next week for another dinner

Kaoru

He’s another person who isn’t so confident about the idea

You both were snuggling on his bed, his arms wrapped around your waist and head lying on your chest while you combed through his hair

“My grandma wants to meet you,”

“She does?” He looked up with a spectacle look

“She isn’t bad, much more open to things considered her age,”

“It makes sense why she would want to meet me, so I guess,” He sighed, then taking in the comfort from the position he was in.

“I don’t want to make a bad impression,”

“You won’t! She just wants to treat you to one of her iconic desserts,”

The both of you slowly got up from your spots and got ready to go to your grandmas that evening

When she opened the door, she gave you a tight hug and then soon threw her arms around Hikaru, squeezing him tightly

“Y/n says you love chocolate, I made some treats so she can show you to the dining room,”

He ended up losing all his nerves after taking a bite of the cake

“It’s amazing!”

“I’m so glad you like it. You’re such a sweet young boy, take some more,”

He felt really comforted by your grandmother and comes back next week after she sends him a letter inviting him

When you came home after a shopping trip with your friends, and saw your boyfriend chatting with your grandmother in the kitchen you were very confused

“Hikaru, I didn’t know you were coming over. Did I forget to tell you I was seeing my friend today?”

“You did,” He walked over you you and gave you a hug and small kiss on the cheek

“Then, uh, why are you here?”

“Your grandmother invited me!” Soon your grandma walked in with three cups of tea

“Oh thanks grandma, did you here me come in?” You went to take the other cup before someone came in behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“She wanted to meet Kaoru’s twin,”

Mori

The both of you were in the library doing some reading

You had recently been describing this book to him that you fell in love with and he wanted to read it for himself

You just wanted to read in general

It was a quiet time, but the both of you sat near each other and your head was lying on his shoulder

You had totally forgotten that your dad was begging to meet this man

“My dad wants to meet you,” You voiced, looking up at him while he just nodded, eyes still on the page

“Which one is that?”

“Dad is the really energetic one, papa is the really smart one,” You told him, the poor boy still having trouble with the names for your two fathers

“Ah,” He hummed, moving a hand to rest on your thigh

“Great, I’ll tell them you will be over this weekend!”

“Mhm,” He rubbed a small circle on your clothed thigh and the two of you kept reading, basking in each other’s presence

When the day came Mori wasn’t exactly nervous, but he wasn’t excited

He had brought a treat that his mother wanted him to bring over

“Mori, is it?” Your papa questioned, while your dad quickly took the treat.

Your boyfriend nodded his head, and scavenged through his pocket for a little box

He handed it to you, and you tilted you head, letting a small smile take over the features on your face

“ARE YOU PROPOSING TO MY BABY ALREADY?!” Your dad asked, jumping and trying to rush to grab the box from your hands, getting pulled back by your papa

“No, it’s a present, calm down hun,” He said with his stern voice, though your dad could easily tell her was just trying to be considerate of you and Mori

“Thank you,” You looked up at Mori and pecked him on the lips

“DID MY BABY JUST KISS HIM?!” Your dad yelled once again.

“You kissed me after our first date, remember?” Your papa reminded the man

“Mori, please come in, take a seat, eat, smile, talk, dance, sing, whatever you please,” Your dad pushed him into the living room and your papa followed

You soon pulled the two aside, sending a look to them

“Don’t be rude to him, I already told you that he doesn’t speak much and that’s his choice that we need to respect,”

You soon felt arms on your shoulder and looked back to see your boyfriends figure towering over yours

“It’s okay Y/n. I’m willing to answer questions to help soothe your parents worries and to show my love for you,” He smiled down at you and placed a kiss to the top of your head

That was when your papa and dad knew that this man was truly a good one

Honey

“Y/n-chan! I want to meet your mom!” Honey told you one day while the two of you were waiting for Usa-chan to get cleaned at the cleaners

“How come?”

“I want to meet the person who helped make you so kind!” He exclaimed, gripping your hand tightly while the two of you walked through town

“Sure, if you really want to,” You shrugged. “My mom is a big cake fan so I think the two of you would get along,”

“Yeah!!!” Honey cheered and the two of you continued your walk with grins on your face

A couple of weeks later your mom was finally home after her stressful business trip and was excited to meet the boy you had been dating

“Mother, this is Mitsukuni,” You introduced her to the childish blonde who was holding on tightly to his stuff animal

“You can call me Honey! It’s so great to meet you! Y/n-chan told me you like cake, so I brought some!” Your mother put on a fake smile and showed him to a area to place it

She soon put on her shoes and coat and the three of you took the limousine to a restaurant nearby

“So, you’re a third year?” Your mother asked once the three of you were seated at a table

“Mhm! Along with my cousin Takashi, he is one of Y/n-chan’s friend as well,”

“He’s the tall one right, I thought he was your boyfriend, someone you could depend on,”

“Mother,” You mumbled, loud enough for her to hear, hoping she would behave kindly to Honey despite the boy not acting like a normal third year

“Y/n can depend on me! I promise! I’m very dependable,” Honey placed his stuff animal on the ground and sat up straight

“You are,” You looked over at him, agreeing with your boyfriend.

The rest of the dinner was a little awkward and when Honey asked to order cake your mother shot him down, it took a lot for the boy to try and hold on his tears

He thought for sure that he would get along greatly with your mother

“Well, aren’t you a cutie?” A man walked up to you, walking alongside you with Honey on your other side holding your hand, your mother was a bit ahead on a phone call

“Um, can you please leave me alone, I’m not interested,”

“Oh come on now doll, don’t act so uninterested, don’t lie, I know you are,” He was about to place a hand on your shoulder before he was on the ground and Honey was holding him in the position

“Y/n! Y/n! I’m so sorry,” Your mom rushed to you and quickly hung up the call looking at the man on the sidewalk and pulling you into her arms.

“I’m fine mother, he didn’t touch me. Mitsukuni got him for me,” You reassured her, pointing to your boyfriend who was watching the man run away

“Oh Honey! I’m so sorry for how I behaved, you really are a good boy,” She pulled him into her arms. “Why don’t the three of us go get some cake to celebrate!”

Haruhi

It was something your father found important

You and Haruhi had been chatting for awhile and your father had overheard you on the phone many times

The poor single father couldn’t figure if your giggles were friendly ones or ones someone would have when talking to a crush

Though he was intelligent when it came to taking care of the colleges he owned, he knew nothing about girls and their crushes

So, he had to ask his secretary for advice, which he did often since he was raising a girl on his own

The advice he received was to just… ask you?

“Y/n, sweetheart, who are you chatting to?”

“Haruhi, Fujioka Haruhi,” You told him, then getting back onto the phone

He rushed to his phone and asked his secretary to found out some more

When he received the information, he rushed to you again, a bit confused it was a commoner, but open to the idea

“I want to meet this Fujioka, and their parent,”

You told Haruhi and she understood, thinking it made sense that your father would want to meet her, especially since Haruhi liked you a lot and was thinking of ways to ask you out soon!

“I’m Hiro, a pleasure to meet you….?” He looked at Haruhi’s father with confusion.

“Ranka, sorry, I’m coming back from my job,” He apologized, whipping the scarf around his neck a little tighter. “You must be Y/n, Haruhi talks about you often! You’re so adorable!”

“Thank you!” You smiled, then grabbing Haruhi’s hand and dragging her into your larger home

Haruhi was very nervous to meet your father, she didn’t want to say anything and tend to just try and stay glued to your side

“Haruhi, you chat with Y/n often, um, that’s good,” Your father was nervous as well, he didn’t want to make the assumption that you two were dating and risk embarrassing you, something he unfortunately did often

“Yeah, Y/n is nice,” She nodded, and you continued to drag her up to your room, showing her trinkets and books

Ranka and your father went to your garden to chat and have some tea

“You have such a lovely home,” Ranka complimented. “Where is Y/n’s mother, at work?”

“She actually isn’t with us,” Your father coughed. “She passed away after having Y/n,”

“I’m so sorry, Haruhi’s mother hasn’t been with us for a while as well,”

Something in common!!?!

They soon started to talk about the difficulties on raising children on there own, and found each other to be much kinder when the nervous aspect disappeared

(they end up calling each other often when they need more advice with their kids, they become good friends!)

“Haruhi is always talking about Y/n, it’s so cute! My little girl is in love..!!”

“Love?!?!” Your father choked on his tea

“Why yes, it’s so painfully obvious that Haruhi doesn’t even realize it herself! I bet it is the same with Y/n, I hear the way she chats and her giggles through the phone,”

“Y/n is in love?!?!”

“Yeah! I think Haruhi is going to ask them out soon!”

“Ask Y/n out?!?!” Your father was about to pass out on the spot

But, Ranka helped him breathe and she revealed just how great of a daughter Haruhi was that your father didn’t seem too scared

Though he didn’t chat with Haruhi too much because the both of you were too busy chatting with each other, he felt she was a good person

“Well, Haruhi, fine young woman, treat my child well, you are well, um, yes,” Your father nodded and Haruhi did the same

The two won’t go and see a movie together, but they’ll be able to get rid of some nerves soon enough and hold some nice conversations together

[sepublic]

The Golden Guard: Eda’s Dark Parallel?

           Does anyone else think that the Golden Guard actually reminds Lilith a LOT of Eda, specifically Eda as a kid, during the good old days before she got cursed?

           Think about it… They’re both sassy, hot-headed teen prodigies with an owl motif and yellow attire. And the way Lilith angrily talks about the Golden Guard, it seems her feelings of resentment mirror how she felt towards Eda back when they were kids? Lilith, who was by-the-book and traditional, worked so hard… And then there’s this younger person with an Owl motif who just swoops in out of nowhere and through talent, completely outclasses her!

           If you go with the idea that Lilith wanted Gwendolyn’s approval and had to compete with Eda over that… Then for all we know, maybe Lilith lowkey wanted Belos’ approval as well, but felt like she was being cheated out of that with the Golden Guard, who kept stealing the spotlight from her! 

          Like she was afraid he’d take her spot as head of the Emperor’s Coven, the way Lilith feared that Eda would win the initiation duel back when they were kids… And lo and behold, the Golden Guard DID take that! Granted Lilith left an obvious vacancy from her own betrayal of Belos so of course he took that spot, but still; It’s quite a sore spot.

           In some ways, perhaps Lilith is aware of this, deep-down or not; She might see the Golden Guard as just Young Eda, but without any of the emotional connection, nor any redeeming qualities; If he does have them, again, it’s not like Lilith knows the Golden Guard well enough to know these traits, much less take them into account.

           LOTS of text and speculation and analyses below!!!

           The Golden Guard is even sixteen years old… Which, is very likely EDA’s age, back when her and Lilith competed for the Emperor’s Coven! That can take on a whole new, dark meaning for her… 

          Perhaps Lilith is low-key disturbed by the Golden Guard’s existence, because he reminds her too much of Young Eda? Eda, before she was cursed- So it’s like the memory of her is coming back to haunt Lilith, in the form of someone who has no concern for Lilith whatsoever to hold him back, unlike the actual Eda.

           And in a way, it’s a horrible reminder that some things never change, that some things stay the same and Lilith can’t get past them, she can’t outgrow it like she thought she did; Because even now, even as head of the Emperor’s Coven, there’s still a 16-year-old prodigy with an owl motif and yellow attire, who is sassy and playful and mischievous, who threatens to upstage Lilith’s self-esteem and sense of power. Somebody Lilith is afraid of; Thirty years later, and she STILL has to deal with this kind of person in her life, but it’s worse because she’s actually older and should be better, yet somehow isn’t…

           Who knows? Maybe Lilith even recognized the similarities to Eda, enough to actually be sympathetic to the Golden Guard at first? Perhaps she, on some level, saw the Golden Guard as a way to vicariously redo her past with Eda, but without the mistakes… Maybe she tried to be nice to the Golden Guard, but then he quickly turned out to be a snob, he’s not REALLY Eda; So Lilith settled on never cursing him like she did Eda, but then otherwise decided that she didn’t owe him any love and could just quietly loathe his guts.

          Lilith failed Eda in part because she was an older sister who abandoned her in a time of need, but there’s not really that expectation with the Golden Guard, so why bother? She’s got enough on her plate as is, and an ACTUAL Eda to worry about, to look after, to be concerned for and patch things up with.

           I’ve even seen people make the very good point that in a lot of ways… The Golden Guard is like a Dark Eda? In the sense that, he’s Eda, had she joined the Emperor’s Coven as a kid. He’s a look at Young Eda, if she didn’t reject the Coven System, and joined Belos- Reveling in her own talent and power as granting her ‘special treatment’ over the rest, so any downsides to the coven system weren’t HER problem anyway!

           Again, this adds another layer to the Golden Guard being very reminiscent of Young Eda, and even current Eda as well… Except, he never lost his magic and was never cursed. Maybe that’s another thing he unknowingly haunts Lilith over; He’s lowkey a reminder of what Eda could’ve been, had Lilith not been selfish and a coward, or had she communicated better. Yet at the same time, he’s frustrating- Because the Golden Guard is like the worst parts of Eda, the parts that Lilith hated and made her resentful…

           And this constant reminder of the past, of her own issues with Eda back then that culminated in the curse- It could’ve made it a LOT harder for Lilith to really resolve things with Eda, because this kid keeps reminding her why she was so angry, and it’s impossible for her to move on because the Golden Guard isn’t some distant memory, but an actual person who continues to threaten her, the way Eda had…

          And of course, the Golden Guard reminds Lilith of the Eda she lost; The happy, carefree Eda who wasn’t cursed, the Eda she could’ve had in a sense. The Eda that Lilith in some ways wanted, yet is forced to confront and acknowledge is a very obnoxious and terrible person that makes her unhappy…

          And this kind of rude reminder that the Eda that Lilith wanted would’ve continued to make her miserable, if not moreso, is not something she appreciates shattering her dreams and low-key denial, of a world where things had just been a little different.

          The person you’re trying to get, maybe get BACK, wasn’t so great after all- So you just have to move on, and be glad for the Eda who IS happier with her life and more mature, despite being older and more cursed. You gotta move past your guilt Lilith, and realize that Eda is in a better place- Not that she ever needed the curse, but she doesn’t quite need saving from the parts of her life she actually chose for herself, in part to be kind to Lilith no less! Because I bet Lilith believes that deep down, she didn’t deserve Eda’s kindness, so she wishes to reverse that compassionate decision of Eda’s that only resulted in Eda suffering because of how terrible Lily secretly is.

           But, back to the subject; There’s more similarities to Eda and the Golden Guard, especially at the end of Separate Tides; How he makes an ominous warning before casually, happily yelling “BYYEEEE!!!”, just like Eda when she warns Luz about trying to have a Moonlight Conjuring in Hooty’s Moving Hassle, before heading off to the Night Market. His widow’s peak even bears a decent resemblance to Eda’s, doesn’t it? Which…

           Combined with all of the talk about bird motifs being a Clawthorne thing, it DOES raise many questions about the Golden Guard’s potential connection to Eda. Is he some long-lost son? A third child that Gwendolyn had later in life, because witch biology might allow them to do that? Some homunculus, crafted from bits of DNA from Eda, and maybe even Belos? Belos does seem weirdly fond and trusting of him, the two are placed together in the Season 2 outro when nobody else, not even Kikimora, is there; And of course, the Golden Guard wields a staff, red magic, and fleshy creations, VERY similar to Belos…

           I can’t say for sure- But the idea of the Golden Guard as an alternate Eda is fascinating. An Eda who became completely arrogant, and didn’t stop to care about others; Her cockiness and mischief becoming cruel and obnoxious, essentially the worst parts of Eda, down the path she’d always dreaded. A look into another life, a different choice in such a pivotal part of her past… Personally, I LOVE this kind of dark parallel of a character, so I’m hoping these similarities are commented upon in-universe, assuming they’re not outright literal!

           In a way, the Golden Guard could haunt Eda, because he reminds her of herself… Of her carefree youth, but what she could’ve had… But also, the terrible things she’d done. And obviously Eda despises the coven system too much to really change her mind, and it’s safe to say that the Golden Guard is not at all what she wanted to ever become… But still, it’s a neat bit of character writing and parallelism. If Belos is like a Dark Luz, what Luz could’ve been had she not grown… And the same could apply between King and Kikimora;

           Then who knows? The Golden Guard could be a Dark Eda, who got by talent and continued to take things for granted. An Eda who swore loyalty to Belos and was embraced by the emperor for her skill and ability. Jovial and cheery, but without any of the actual compassion that makes this genuine with Eda. An immature brat who never grew up (granted he’s only sixteen and hasn’t gotten the chance), unlike Eda. And if the Golden Guard is an alternate Eda;

           It’s fascinating how his roles are reversed with his alternate Luz… The Eda parallel is younger than the Luz parallel, learning from them, and taking after their motifs as well! But I guess it’s not all too surprising, with how Eda and Luz both learn from one another, though I suspect Belos and the Golden Guard aren’t as mutual, but who knows? 

          It does make you wonder about Kikimora and King as potential mediators between these duos, whose placement remains consistent… How does Kikimora, the King parallel, interact with her Luz and Eda? Did she become close friends with HER Luz, while, as Dana’s art suggests, she seems somewhat irritated by and resentful of her own Eda? So it’s like Eda and King never grew to be friends and conquer differences… As well as if King never grew to respect Luz and saw her as just a “f*cking nerd”?

           With how Luz is taking after Eda, and possibly getting a Cardinal palisman to complete the Clawthorne motif as a new member of the family… Who knows? The Golden Guard could be an intriguing character for her to bounce off of narratively, maybe as someone Luz might have, in another universe, learned to look up to and admire? How well Luz’s relationship be with the Golden Guard, if they are a Dark Eda? And how can this indirectly show us about how Luz and Young Eda would’ve interacted, what Young Eda was like, what Lilith went through as a kid…

           And, for all we know- The Golden Guard’s owl motif doesn’t hint at a pre-existing connection to the Clawthornes, but rather a future one… Maybe he’ll end up being adopted by Eda, the way Luz was? I’d love to see the Golden Guard become an evil older sibling who’s protective of Luz… 

          I ADORE that trope to death; Evil older brother with bright, younger sister, whom he cares about, and the sister cares for him too, even if it’s complicated because the sister believes in the brother to be better, while the brother doesn’t want to be better, or is at least reluctant about having to change…

           I’d love to see another Hugo and Kipo dynamic, and actually… If the Golden Guard parallels Eda, then who’s his Lilith? Could it be Luz herself? I’ve talked before the similarities between Luz and Lilith, as kids who were bullied and struggled with a lack of talent, but made up for it with hard work and ingenuity; They’ll give you a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, but then happily leap at the opportunity if they think someone is improving.

           And, as Separate Tides has also shown us; They both grapple with guilt over making Eda suffer, unintentionally to varying degrees. Luz and Lilith both learn that they’re not a burden and that it’s okay to ask for help, and come to terms with their guilt with Eda… If Belos and the Golden Guard are Luz and Eda reversed, then could Luz and the Golden Guard also be Lilith and Luz, reversed?

          With the Eda parallel being the older sibling in this scenario… An alternate timeline where Eda and Lilith were the same people, but switched places in birth, and it was EDA who ended up being the cruel and toxic sibling who left the younger feeling demeaned and worthless. I imagine if that were the case, the Golden Guard’s toxicity would occur largely in the beginning, as he acts adversarial to Luz and mocks her, taunts her over Eda’s loss of magic, and her own glyphs no doubt; The Golden Guard doesn’t seem to acknowledge glyphs as a valid form of magic himself.

           But then, if he were to get a redemption, the Golden Guard’s tune might change as he matures and learns to treat Luz more kindly… In a way mimicking how Eda really grew to care for Luz, but also the way Eda has begun to reconnect with Lilith, except with the Golden Guard as the one with the baggage and guilt.

           And, a redemption might not be too implausible, because… He is literally only sixteen, the same age as Emira and Edric, and likely the same age as Eda when SHE was cursed. Younger than Lilith, when she made the worst mistake of her life, because she didn’t understand the coven system for what it truly was –and who could blame her?- and was grappling with a likely terrible mother in Gwendolyn… The Golden Guard is literally a minor, and possibly an overworked teen prodigy.

           After all, the first glimpse of his personality Dana gave us, way back in 2020, was of the Golden Guard admitting that he was tired; And despite his usually cheery personality, all of our glimpses at his face behind the mask (symbolism!) have had him look likely serious and glum… But then again, we don’t see the lower half of his face, so who knows? 

          Perhaps the Golden Guard is abused and overworked by Belos, kind of like Amity with her parents… The Golden Guard is a child dealing with a very toxic influence, and a huge burden of responsibility no less. And with all the potential connections to Belos as maybe even a literal father, or at least a parental figure, it’s not hard to see why the Golden Guard would turn out so messed up. And the Golden Guard being ‘tired’ could be a connection to how Eda is left exhausted from her curse, too.

           So, who knows? Because of his age, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect, or at least hope, for a redemption for this kiddo. But a recent sister show to The Owl House has taught me anything, kids aren’t free from death, and Infinity Train made it clear that you can humanize and sympathize and mourn someone who deserved better, yet ultimately dug their grave and was condemned to a sudden death because of that; All because they didn’t know any better, and really couldn’t have.

           And on another note- Maybe the Golden Guard has owl motifs like Eda… Because in a lot of ways, he actually admires her? He admires the Owl Lady, or at least the certain ‘past’ version that others such as Lilith may have brought up… Maybe the Golden Guard seeks to supplant Eda the Owl Lady as The Most Powerful Witch in the Boiling Isles. Maybe he sees himself as Eda, but better, and this rebellious, hot-headed kid feels the need to prove himself by defeating someone he sees himself in.

           Maybe the Golden Guard is like Lilith, as someone who wishes Eda could’ve joined the coven system, and he’s disappointed in how all her talent was ‘wasted’ on other things. Maybe the Golden Guard was disappointed in Eda losing her magic, losing further respect for his ‘problematic idol’, and/or he felt some validation and vindication in being a successor to Eda. 

          Does he hold some grudge? Did the Owl Lady’s power excite him, give the Golden Guard a goal to recklessly challenge and defeat, so he can experience the thrill of victory and add to this feeling of invincibility that teenagers, especially the talented ones, have?

           Eda as a kid, and even now, has always been fond of spiting what others say she can’t do, or setting new precedents and accomplishments to prove herself. Maybe the Golden Guard is like that, and hopes to take on the onus of outdoing the Owl Lady; Perhaps he admires Eda, and wishes she could’ve joined a coven like him. As an outside admirer, he mourns Eda’s ‘potential’ in a way similar to Lilith, but different; Because he’s a kid who looks up to her, and not an older sibling that has an actual childhood with Eda. If so, then that’s another dark parallel to Luz;

           After all, Luz got frustrated by Eda in Adventures in the Elements. So maybe the Golden Guard is someone who grew resentful of Eda for not living up to the legend he hoped, the image he wanted, sort of like Lilith! I’ll go out on a limb and even suggest him as a past apprentice, who unlike Luz, never learned to be patient and appreciate Eda’s teachings, so he turned to the coven system and Belos for easy gratification. He didn’t want to be challenged… And in that way, the Golden Guard could parallel my speculation on Belos, as also a Dark Luz.

          So of course, it makes sense that Belos would recognize this same dilemma in the Golden Guard, and perhaps be sympathetic and take him under his wing for it. Eda might not recognize the Golden Guard because he’s changed a bit himself, is hiding his own identity –Lilith doesn’t seem to know much about the witch beneath the mask either, just the public image and façade- and Eda’s been having memory issues. Maybe this will add to the Golden Guard’s resentment, who knows? He really might just be a rebellious teen who Eda failed, unlike with Luz… And that could add to more envy, perhaps.

           At the very least; Dana’s fondness for the Golden Guard takes on a whole new meaning… What with how Eda is pretty much one of, if not THE most favorite character of hers, the one who really jumpstarted this entire show and world to begin with… Having this other character she likes essentially be a canon AU version of that beloved creation, would certainly make a lot of sense! Dana likes Eda, she likes to show us about Young Eda; So a character who IS Young Eda, just on a different path, would likely appeal to her. We’ll see…

           I think it’s worth noting that in her art of the Golden Guard, it depicts him as essentially a normal, lazy teenager who’s asking someone else to do his chore for him, while he lounges around to do something else. I could see a young Eda as occasionally fulfilling that role and asking her older sister Lily for a favor- And maybe this could allude to the Golden Guard being frequently exhausted from being overworked himself, hence “I’m tired” and wanting to extend his breaks as much as possible. We’ll just have to wait and see…

[littleoddwriter]

I love your writing! I was wondering if you could write Jesse, Asa, and poly Ghostface with and autistic gender neutral partner please.

Slashers x Autistic!GenderNeutral!Reader | Headcanons

Thank you so much for the request and compliment, I'm glad you enjoy my writing. :) I really hope you'll like these Headcanons! [Fortunately, I'm 98% sure I'm autistic, on top of having BPD, which has great overlaps with Autism anyway, so I've done lots of research over the past years and yeah- I'm just saying that I am definitely not unfamiliar with it and I hope I did an alright job! I focused on certain aspects that I know pretty much every autistic person experiences to some extent at least and that I'm personally familiar with as is. <3]

notes; GenderNeutral!Reader; Stimming; Meltdowns; Sensory Overload; Special Interests & Infodumping; Routines; Semi-Verbal; Asa is autistic, too; Stu has ADHD; Dealing with Difficulties in Social Situations; Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (unintentional); Implied/Referenced Ableism; Implied Murder; Poly-Amorous Relationship.

Characters: Asa Emory/The Collector; Billy Loomis; Stu Macher; Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull.

Asa Emory/The Collector

With Asa you’re lucky, since he’s autistic, too – so whenever you talk about your special interests, he’s not only listening attentively and engaging in an actual conversation with you; he also goes on about his own afterwards!

In addition, it was such a relief to not be forced to mask around him at all, and it was only later that you realised just how much less exhausted you were at the end of every day then

He obviously understands all the struggles you face better than anyone, and while it’s not all exactly the same for him, he can sympathise with you and help you out, just like you do with him

If you suffer from sensory overload, he knows exactly what to do – he turns off all lights, gets out your noise cancelling headphones and stim toys you might rather have instead of hurting yourself with more extreme stims you have at times like this

He handles your meltdowns really well, too – he always lets you ride them out and makes sure you know that you’re not alone and that he’s here for you

Some days you might not talk at all, and he couldn’t care less – he knows what it’s like, he is semi-verbal as is – and so you two have come up with a system to let each other know what’s going on; and you have prepared cards for more mundane things, while you otherwise resort to texting each other about more important and unique things

On the other hand, you also can’t shut up sometimes and generally he is okay with it; he actually enjoys the things you tell him, but when he needs to focus on his work it can be a bit distracting of course – still, he never holds it against you – he just tells you to be quiet and talk to him later, and you understand it; so it’s fine

The two of you also have a whole box full of different stim toys you both use, and it makes you incredibly happy to have a shared collection of them with your love – it’s almost strangely romantic

Since you’re both autistic, it was super easy to come up with routines that work really well for either of you when you moved in together – that way you never get in each other’s ways or upset one another

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

Stu has ADHD, so he understands you better than Billy does in this department, but they both put in a lot of effort in knowing what boundaries you have, what they’re supposed to do in which situations, what you struggle with most, etc. – They’re happy to make accommodations for you

Sometimes Stu’s current hyperfixation is something in the realm of one of your special interests and so you just talk back and forth about it for hours, which can drive Billy a little insane, but he secretly loves just how passionate you two get, while he’s just sitting between you two and watching you go on about topic XYZ

If anyone at school or college thinks they have the right to mock you and these two witness it, or you tell them about it, you can be certain to not see that person ever again

They never make you feel weird or embarrassed about your stims, interests, or specific ways to do things – it’s who you are and they love everything about you, especially the things that others usually didn’t

Just like Asa, they are ready to help you out and provide for you, when you’re suffering from intense sensory overload – you’ve walked them through what is best for you in such situations and they’re really good at following what you said

Meltdowns, too – you’re never made to feel ashamed; they never treat you any differently and just let you ride it all out, as they comfort you afterwards and tell you that it’s alright

Even though they’re both very social, they never force you into situations you’re uncomfortable with and make sure you’re okay whenever you do come along to house parties, or meeting with several people at once – if you need to leave, they’ll go with you and comfort you if needed

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

You tell him that you’re autistic pretty early on, and while he didn’t know too much beforehand, he does his research and lets you tell him how it affects you, etc.

He is incredible, really – he lets you infodump about your interests and engages in it via signing or texting you what he thinks; he is genuinely interested in whatever you have to say and admires your passion and the way your entire face lights up when you get to talk about something so important to you

He might not understand your sensory issues entirely, but he doesn’t judge you for them either – he gladly accommodates you in whatever way you need

He buys you stim toys you’ve been eyeing, but couldn’t afford by yourself; and he generally doesn’t make you feel bad about your stims and behaviours

In case you tell him about the ableist things people have told you before, and how they might have mocked you for things you can’t help, he gets angry on your behalf (he may target some of these people next, too – just for good measure)

If you happen to have a meltdown in his presence, he makes sure to not agitate you more; instead he assures you of his presence and comforts you when you need it – if you’re okay with cuddles and kisses, he’ll primarily use those to calm you down when the worst is over

He never gets in the way of your routines and always makes certain you can pursue them properly – he doesn’t want to cause you any distress

Whenever you may lash out because of sensory overload, he doesn’t take it personally or get mad at you; instead he asks what is causing the overload and accommodates you – especially in public; he’ll remove you from wherever you may be at that moment and comforts you to help you come down from it

[imagineyourworld]

Paper Rings

Howzer x Genderneutral!Reader 

Summary: Will you marry Howzer even though he can’t offer you the shiny things you’re used to? (Inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same title) 

Warnings: Like one mention of war and allusion of poverty, otherwise just tooth rotting fluff 

Check out my other work here

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What was he thinking? Your parents were a Duchess and Duke on your home planet, they were friends with the Syndullas, you grew up in a mansion and here Howzer was, wanting to marry you. Not only did he not have much property, most people considered him property, He couldn’t offer you what you were used to, what you deserved. But no matter how often he told himself that he shouldn’t ask you to marry him, he just had to. He couldn’t take the thought of dying without ever having told you just how much you mean to him, how much he wants to spend the rest of his life, however long, with you.  But today, he finally decided, was the day. The war was over, for the first time since Howzer could remember there was something resembling peace, and you’d be arriving later that day.  Just a few days ago you had commed him, telling him that you had asked your parents to let you finish your university education on Ryloth and they agreed. So you will spend the next two years right there next to him, And afterwards you could look for a job on Ryloth, or maybe, now that the war was over, Howzer could find a way to escape the army and the two of you could settle on your home planet or any corner of the galaxy you wanted. Provided you said yes.  Howzer was on duty most of the day, which is why he couldn’t greet you the second you set foot on Ryloth. But as soon as his shift ended he hurried to the Syndullas’ house, in the garden of which the two of you had been secretly meeting for the past two years.  Or maybe not so secretly, he thought as he saw Hera waving at him from the window of her bedroom.  “Great”, Howzer muttered. He liked Hera, loved her like a little sister even, but he really didn’t want anyone watching this proposal. No one should know, in case you said no, an answer for which Howzer had to be prepared for. That’s the reason he had decided against asking for Eleni’s help in choosing a ring. Instead he had gone with a small silver band, engraved with the initials for both your and his first names. It was classic and simple.  And cheap, the nagging voice in his head insisted. Of course there had been many more beautiful rings, but the truth was that he couldn’t afford any of them, even the engraving had almost blown his budget.  He finally reached the bush behind which he knew you were hiding. The second he stepped around it and into your eyesight you had your arms wrapped around Howzer.  “I’m so glad to see you. I missed you”, you greeted him.  Howzer hugged you back for a few seconds before letting go to press a gentle kiss to your lips.  “I missed you more”, he whispered, his forehead leaning against yours.  You shook your head, a smile on your lips.  “That’s impossible.”  With a matching smile, though maybe just the slightest bit more nervous, Howzer grabbed your hand and lead you over to a thick log on the ground.  As soon as the two of you sat down you rested your head on his shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable, due to his armour, but being uncomfortable with Howzer was million times better than being comfortable alone.  Howzer tried his best not to look you in the eyes, which was a lot easier with your current position, because he knew the second you really looked at him you’d be able to tell that he was nervous about something. And he wanted to stall for just a few more moments, just in case the question he was about to ask would ruin everything.  “So”, he started. “How was your day?”  He didn’t need to ask twice. You began telling him all about the beautiful room the Syndullas had set you up in until you could find an apartment of your own. The university campus you had seen for the first time today and the classes you would take this semester.  “I can’t believe I’m finally going back to university after I had to leave when this stupid war started. Although, without this stupid war we never would have met, so I suppose that’s one positive thing about this whole kriffing mess.”  It’s now or never, Howzer thought.  “Speaking of us...”, he said. He nudged your head with his shoulder to make you lift it before taking both your your hands into his and looking you deep in the eyes. “I really don’t know how to say this. I’ve tried to practice, but everything sounded wrong, so I suppose I’ll just wing it.”  A horrified expression made its way to your face and if Howzer’s hands hadn’t been sweating so much he would have noticed moisture gathering in your own palms.  “Howzer, my darling, are you breaking up with me?”, you asked, voice shaking and tears threatening to spill. You couldn’t believe it. Just a few days ago he had seemed so happy to have you on Ryloth with him, he had told you he loved you, and now this?  Before you could do or say anything else Howzer began shaking his head frantically.  “No! Stars, no! Cyare, just listen to me.”  You nodded, although still a bit shaky.  “I’m so happy to have you here with me for the next two years, but that made me realize, or rather it’s one of the things that made me realize, that I want to have you right next to me for the rest of my life. I don’t know how long my life will be, even now that the war is over, I don’t know what the empire will do with us clones, but if you’ll let me, I will do everything in my power to never leave your side. I know I can’t offer you much, I don’t have a mansion like the one you grew up in, or even a house to call me own, I can’t give you jewelry or fine clothes or the best food, but everything I have, everything I am, I can give to you. I offer you my heart and my soul and I promise to do whatever I can to make you happy for as long as you want me to.”  After his last words he let go of one of your hands and knelt down in front of you on the ground. In the same swift motion he pulled a simple black box out of his holster where his blaster should be.  “(Y/N), cyar’ika, mesh’la, my beloved, my beautiful, my darling, my sun and stars, will you marry me?”  The tears that had been in your eyes earlier were now floating. Never had anyone said something like that to you, offered you so much and asked a question you never knew you wanted to hear.  But Howzer, in his worried state, misinterpreted your tears. He sat the box down on the ground and put a hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t want to marry a man who cannot offer you the riches you’re used to.”  Tears were now making their way down his cheeks as well. You shook your head, slowly at first, then violently. How could he think that that’s why you’re crying?  “Howzer, I love you. I love you whether you’re the richest man in the galaxy or the poorest, it doesn’t matter. I may like shiny things, but I’d marry you no matter what, even if you proposed with a paper ring.”  Within seconds his expression went from shock to relief to pure happiness and love. He lifted the box from the ground again and opened it, showing you the ring inside.  “It may not be paper, but I doubt this is worth much more.”  Laughter bubbled past your lips. Without thinking you leaned down and pressed a kiss to Howzer’s forehead, another to his cheeks, his eyelids and his nose, before your lips finally connected in a loving kiss.  “I still need an answer, mesh’la”, Howzer mumbled against your lips after you had separated to catch your breath.  You wouldn’t have thought it possible to smile even wider, but somehow you did.  “Yes. My answer is yes, Howzer. I will marry you.”  With a smile matching yours, and after another quick kiss, he gently slipped the ring on your finger.  And even though it was probably the cheapest thing you owned, it was also the most valuable and you loved it almost as much as the man who had given it to you. 

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I know my usual day to post is Friday, but I was listening to Paper Rings and thinking of the latest Bad Batch episode and this fic just came to me and I couldn’t wait to write and share it. 

[dameronology]

to all the pilots i've loved before {poe dameron} - 3/4

part three: better half of a whole

summary: you’re in love with poe dameron. it’s both the most complicated and most simple thing in the galaxy - and it’s all shoved into a shoe-box under your bed, in the form of a thousand love letters. here’s to hoping he never finds them. (series masterlist)

warnings: language, mentions of injury

i'm so sorry this took me so long to write!! i got writer's block and then i was horribly busy with a thousand others things and sadly, i cannot prioritise fan fiction over real life duties. and i would know, because i've tried

enjoy!!

- jazz

Poe didn't sleep for...well, it was probably days. Felt like years.

Dear trouble,

Every time he closed his eyes, your face would flash into his mind. The sound of your laugh echoing amongst the cries of war; the feel of your soft hands tracing the remains of battle scars and wounds. What if the hug you gave him before you left was the last? What if your slightly pained laughter at the shitty joke he'd made in the jungle the night before was all he had left? He cherished every memory he had of you but he loved you more.

I know you hate when I call you that, but it feels pretty accurate - because you do cause trouble, normally with me but more recently FOR me. Anyways, I never considered myself to be much of a letter writer, but then I saw yours and...fuck.

Love. What a funny fucking word, right? Said so easily, but meant so much. Something that felt so hard to find, but even more difficult to hold onto. His parents had found it and they'd kept it for so long, and he'd always wanted the same - nothing less, nothing more. Just the kind of unwavering, undying love that can survive a war and be happy with the domesticity that followed. The only difference between Poe and his parents was that they'd been fearless with every aspect of their lives, not withholding their ability to express feelings. Perhaps that's where he fell short. Shara had taught him a lot of things but she'd been lost before he taught her how to pull his head out his ass and just...say things how they were.

What am I even supposed to say? I love you too would be a start, because I obviously I do. I've always wanted to say it but I never wanted to risk what we had in case you secretly hated me, and now I'm going to live out the rest of my days regretting it.

The first that Poe managed to finally get some rest was four days after Leia had broken the news of your disappearance. He'd fallen asleep in his quarters, curled up into Finn's side and clutching a t-shirt of his that he'd left in your room - you'd borrowed it a few months ago, and it still smelt of you. It was a mixture of your everyday body fragrance and a little of engine oil. BB-8 was snoozing quietly in the corner and for the first time in days, Poe's jaw and shoulders weren't tense and clenched.

The little robot did stir, however, when he got a comms system message from Leia. He was awake immediately, cruising across the room and crashing straight into the nearest human he could find - and it was at that point that Finn regretted leaving his leg dangling off the side of the bed. He jumped awake, brown eyes finding the droid peering up at him.

You're not just my best friend. You're my partner in crime, my soulmate and you know that twin flame bullshit that Rey always go on about? You're probably that too because we're both flaming hot. You're the better half of this whole. You and me.

"Poe is sleeping, buddy," he quietly said.

"There's a message from the general," BB-8 beeped back.

Poe suddenly woke up at that - it could have been any message, and certainly not one about you, but something in his gut told him otherwise. If it hadn't have been, Leia would have left it til morning, or not even bothered him at all in his current state.

"What?" the pilot asked. "What is it?"

"They're back, in the med-"

Poe didn't give him a chance to say anything else, because he was already up and out the door - jacket unzipped, boots half unlaced, hair sticking up in a thousand different directions.

And even though he hadn't slept for days, he was running for his dear fucking life. The medical bay was right on the other side of the base and he didn't care. You were there - in what state, he didn't know - and that was all that mattered. He was just wanted to be with you, beside you, and he never planned on leaving.

If I see you again, I'm not gonna hide it anymore. I love you and you deserve to know that. I'm gonna give you the fucking world, I promise.

Poe skidded around the corner, stopping his tracks when he saw you across the room. You looked tired - far past it, in fact - and his entire body tensed when he saw the bruises on your arm and up your neck. Still, he took comfort in the fact that he knew you put up a good fight. You'd sparred together enough times and given him enough bruises to last a life time.

There was a slight oof as someone crashed into the back of Poe (Finn's subtle way of announcing his arrival). He placed a hand on his shoulder, shoving him forward slightly. It was clear that Poe was in a state of shock - at your loss, at your declaration, and even more at your return - because the last few days had changed everything.

Everything he'd ever wanted was about to come to fruition. No pressure.

"Go to them," Finn murmured.

With that, Poe took a few steps forward - you met him half away across the room, chests colliding with enough force to knock down an ATAT. He wound his arms you, pulling you towards him with one hand tangled in your hair and the other holding your back. He clung to you, tears in his eyes and entire body shaking, almost as though he was using the feeling of you to act as a reminder that this wasn't a dream. You were here. You were back. Perhaps a little worst for wear, but alive and standing all the same.

I don't know how I'll say it. Am I meant to just blurt it out? I've never said it to anyone before, so...what the fuck am I meant to do? Normally, I'd come to you for advice on this sort of this but that feels a bit counter intuitive.

"Hey, Poe," you gently murmured.

"Hey, trouble," he let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from the hug to clutch your face in his hands. "You're alive. You're here-"

"- yeah, I'm here," you grinned.

"What happened?" he pushed. "If I ever find those First Order bastards, I swear it's on site."

"They were trying to shoot us out the sky, so we had to lay low on a random moon for a few days, but the residents of said moon were not very friendly and - you know what? It doesn't matter," you leant into his touch, relishing the feeling of his hands against your skin. "I'm here and that's what's important."

"I was so scared," Poe admitted. "And they had me search your room for back up plans and-"

You froze.

"You...you searched my room?" you stuttered. "What did you find?"

The main thing is, I AM gonna tell you. I promise. Just...please come back.

Love, Poe

Poe's eyes widened - maybe now wasn't the best time to break the news. You were bleeding from your head and hadn't slept for days. To spring it on you before you were even cleaned up felt a bit unfair. His worst fears had been avoided, so he didn't mind waiting just a little longer.

"Nothing," he forced a smile. "C'mon, I'll clean you up."

Taking your hand in his, Poe lead you towards one of the beds. He was hardly a medical expert, but he'd been through enough cuts and scrapes to have a basic understanding of stitches. And luckily, your injuries didn't look too bad. It was more just the fact you had them in the first place that hurt him.

What if he'd gone on the mission with you? Or convinced you to stay? Fuck, he would have gone in your place if he knew what was going to happen. The last few days had been the worst of his life and he almost felt responsible for what had happened to you. Your pain was his pain, and he felt it in every fibre of his being.

But, of all things, at least he knew what love was now - and if you had never have gone MIA, he never would have gone looking in your room, and he never would have found those letters. It felt like a bit of a dick move to call them a blessing in disguise but his mother had always taught him the value of looking for silver linings. The last week had been one giant thunderstorm. There had been no breaks in the rain, or sun peaking through the clouds. It had just been darkness and thunder, but it was all beginning to clear now.

What was it that Shara had said when Poe was a kid? Things have a funny way of working out. This was all a testament to that, and also to the fact that she always seemed to be right.

Poe's hands moved gently as he stitched up the cut on your forehead. They were still steady as they moved, brown eyes occasionally moving down to meet yours. He always smiled when they did.

"There we go," he said. "That shouldn't scar, but if it does, it would make you look like a bad-ass, so..."

You chuckled slightly. "Thanks, Dameron."

"You don't have to thank me," he quietly murmured, running a thumb over your cheek. "I'm just glad you're back."

"Right," you grinned. "What did you do whilst I was gone?"

Cried. Read those letters. Cried some more. Wrote a letter myself, then cried on that too.

"I just...I caught up some on some reading," he forced a smile. "C'mon, let's go to my quarters. I have some bactaspray there for those bruises."

Poe took your hand in his again and helped you up off of the bed - you seemed okay to walk, but he didn't let go. He needed to feel you, to know that you were there. He was worried you might float away into the galaxy and disappear all over again if he didn't cling onto you.

And for you, the feeling of his warm hands against yours was a welcome relief after a long few days. You were trying to push the pain and the incoming nightmares to the back of your head, and it was much easier when Poe was beside you. You already knew that he was going to make you sleep beside him that night. Being on the same wavelength so often was a great feeling.

Poe hadn't thought about tidying his room - why would he? He'd been so preoccupied with you, and finding you, that he'd barely considered the idea. Besides, it wasn't like you were going to care about the shoes by his door, or the letters on his desk, or the unfolded laund-

- fuck.

The letters.

Your box of letters, which was sat on his desk, which was right by the door.

By the time he'd even registered that they were there, you were already half way into the room. In a somewhat half-arsed attempt to shove them back in the box and toss them to the side, Poe dove forward and knocked them into an open draw, slamming it shut.

When he turned around and saw your wide eyes, it was clear he was a little too late. You'd already seen them.

taglist: tags: @neverlandlibrarian @asphyzzz @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ubri812 @taina-eny @dessinemoiunehistoire @fangirl-316 @princessxkenobi @brandyllyn

[diaco1968]

Thrill

Shigaraki Tomura x f!Reader

WARNINGS! +18, lemon/smut, heavy NONCON!, Forced! , implied cheating, dirty talk and degradation, unprotected, yandere-ish

The sound of the sharp knock resonating off the walls of the otherwise completely silent apartment had you almost jump out of your own skin, a cold sweat immediately beeaking out all over your back despite the heavy warm blanket you were under. You muted the video even though you assumed it was already too late for the unwelcome guest not to have heard it. Another sharp knock and you knew your assumption was right. Either way you quietly slipped out from under your blanket, feet meeting the cold floor and worsening the already cold shivers rolling down your spine, no one had business visiting you at 3 in the morning. Reaching up you looked through the peep hole. The silhouette of a familiar person with light hair was visible but mostly blocked by a smear of something dark across the glassy cover making it extremely difficult to make out the face.

This time instead of the sharp knock, fingers almost gently rapped over the wooden door as if the person knew you were standing right on the other side, the rapping playing a familiar and serie rhythm. Eerie because you only knew one more person who knew this rhythm.

Your hand rose and your fingers wrapped around the doorknob all on their own accord. The rude knocking was his way of respecting you actually, cause you knew as well as he did that this flimsy door could not stand in his way if he had decided to come in already. Chills from your cold feet on the floor made the whole experience worse than it needed to be. With a quiet shaky intake of breath and a shake of your head to regain your stoic composure you pulled the door open slowly, enough space so that your whole frame was in the doorway and not more, one hand still on the door for emotional support.

And surely you needed that.

He was way more terrifying than you remembered him from last time. His white hair glowing and almost reflecting the moonlight that seeped inside the corridor from the window at the end, the white light engulfing and giving his form a ghostly appearance, with bright crimson eyes staring at you expectantly. And that was not the only crimson in the mix. A big splash of red was covering one whole side of his face as it had either dripped down from his own head, which was likely cause strands of his hair was also still dripping with crimson, or had sprayed onto him from some other poor soul, down his neck, disappearing in the black of his shirt, making it look even darker, all the way down to his left hip. He was leaning his bloodied hand on the doorway, looming over you with his nonchalant yet completely insane face, lips slowly parting into a smirk, knowing by the pale look of your face that he absolutely had not given you a choice for this surprise meeting.

"May I use your shower."

Your jaw went slack staring at him with an open mouth as you clutched the door unable to answer what wasn't really a request.

"Of course, what a dumb question."

He pushed off the wall and gestured for you to get out of his way as he pushed the door wide open, stomping right past you. Feeling way out of your comfort zone you glanced left and right in the corridor before succumbing to your fate and closing the door behind you, staring at the muddy bloody shoe prints going to your living room. You followed them and watched him kick his shoes off in the middle of the living room on the creme carpet, lean in to look at the pictures over the chimney, scoff then make his way over to the kitchen.

"That's not the bathroom-..."

He totally ignored you as he went to the fridge grabbing a cold beer, all the while making sure he smeared everything with the blood on his hands.

His eyes glanced sideways towards you as he chugged the bear in one go, putting the bottle on the very edge of the counter.

"Ahhh."

His eyes locked onto yours, beginning to show a slight bit of annoyance. And as his mouth split open into a wide grin he tipped the bottle over the edge. It hit the floor with a noise that sounded way louder to you than it should've before it shattered on the kitchen tiles.

"Oops. My bad."

Your eyes snapped onto him from where they previously were glaring at the broken bottle on the floor, grinding your teeth together in annoyance.

"The bathroom is the other way."

"I know."

You hissed out from your clenched teeth and he waved his hand dismissively, stepping over the glass and walking towards your bedroom. Of course he was going to use the master bathroom. What else. He stopped in the doorway to the bathroom and looked at you.

"Join me."

You crossed your arms over your chest this time glaring at him directly.

"I see no need for that. You're a big boy."

He faked a pout before shrugging his shoulders and stepping into the bathroom.

"Well I thought you wanted me gone as soon as possible. Apparently not, so I'm gonna take my time then."

You shook your head and sat on the edge of the bed, every single muscle in your body rigid from stress. How long could he take anyway?

Apparently too long.

An hour of chewing your lower lip and tapping your foot nervously later, you decided to check up on him. You knocked on the door but got no reply. Three times. So you opened the door slowly and carefully to peak inside. Unlike what you had imagined the bathroom wasn't filled with steam from the shower. But sure enough he was standing under the running water. You stopped yourself before you could rake your eyes down his body you went to close the door.

"Come on now, it's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Shigaraki."

You whispered in a scolding tone but didn't close the door, instead staring at his eyes.

"Eh? What happened to Tomura? Or the one I like more, Tomuooo~"

He attempted to mimick your voice with a whiny needy tone and remembering exactly what he was talking about you flushed bright red stammering.

"Oh my gosh... fuck off..."

He laughed, the sound taking you aback not recalling ever having heard him laugh.

"Fine, but seriously. I need your help."

He turned around to show you the half ass cleaned wounds on his back.

And of course you had to inspect so you stepped inside to take a closer look at the gashes. Two long angry stripes across his middle back, not bleeding anymore but spots of dried blood still sticking around them.

"No way I'm gonna blindly scrub at those. They hurt like a motherfucker."

You heaved a sigh finding the reasoning legit. After all you were used to seeing such wounds yourself. You grabbed a towel for the lack of a better option, finding out that he was too far inside the shower for you to reach. Not wanting to hear his retort on telling him to get closer you decided to step in and that's when the cold water ran over your hands and slid all the way down your arm inside your sleeve.

"Shit! Why so cold?!"

"Why not. Not how he likes it?"

You clicked your tongue annoyed and pressed the towel to his back a little too harshly making him hiss and glare at you from the corner of his eye. If you were completely honest it was a terrifying glare but you didn't budge and instead started to scrub away at the skin lightly enjoying the silent tease-less mood. Not for long though.

"Speaking of him. Where even is he?"

'As if you don't already know.'

You bit back your retort and settled for somthing else.

"We were and are not going to be speaking of him."

As if to emphasize, you scraped the towel a little harder over his skin and watched as his shoulderblades rolled and rippled right under the skin but he ignored it.

"We're not? Having a naked man in his shower makes you feel guilty?"

Your nails dug into the towel and you paused.

"Shut it."

"No. He is away working, not even dreaming of his little fiance being unfaithful to him. Trusts you a little too much, huh?"

"I said shut it!"

You growled and slammed the towel onto his back, right into the gashes. His shoulders twitched angrily and he reached back and grabbed you right before you could storm off angrily. A loud surprised gasp left you as your back got slammed into the wall, cold water from the shower pouring over you and soaked you to the bone in a matter of seconds.

"And I said no."

You tried to wriggle out of his grasp or wiggle away from under the onslaught of cold water to no avail.

"Fuck! Let me go!"

His hands grabbed at your wet heavy hoodie ripping it enough to make space to slip it off your shoulders and expose your chest then let it hang around your waist. With your hands still inside the sleeves you felt bounded by the tight heavy cloth unable to do anything but struggle in vain.

"He has no idea his fiance, the love of his life, is secretly a villain fucker, does he?"

"I am not!"

"The love of his life? Cause we both know you ARE a villain fucker."

"Stop!"

"Stop? But you don't really want me to, do you?"

His fingers wrapped around your neck tightly, pressing you harder into the wall forcing a squeak out of you before he shut you up by pressing his lips onto yours and his tongue shoving into your mouth, making you turn your head to the side with a cough.

"You don't want me to stop cause he doesn't screw you like I do,"

His fingers tangled in your wet locks like snakes slithering through the grass, tightening on your scalp with a fist full of hair and forcing your face back towards himself and running his lips over the side of your mouth.

"He doesn't grab you and force you down in your place like the little whore you are-"

"We were on a break! It was one time!"

"It was not one time."

He pressed you into the wall harder with his body, freeing his hand and grabbing your panties. The flimsy fabric turned to muddy dust and washed away down the drain. His hand immediately replaced it and cupped your heat roughly. And for once you were glad for the running water, you could not stand his comments on the moisture gathered between your legs otherwise.

"To your credit, you did try to be a good girl. You just couldn't stay away from me. It must be thrilling, huh?"

You pursed your lips staring at the ceiling trying not to focus on his fingers running all over you, as if he couldn't decide what to touch first. They ran from your sex to your hips, back to your ass then over your breast, pausing to enjoy the erect nipple rolling it harshly between his fingers, making you bite your lower lip.

"Tell me. Which one is your derive? Is it the thrill of being used like a fucktoy by a villain and not knowing if I would dispose of you afterwards?"

He slipped his hard cock between your thighs, tugging your hair down to expose the length of your neck to him, leisurely kissing sucking and nipping on the soft skin as you shut your eyes and opened your mouth to breath cause the water was now angled right in your face.

"Or are you thrilled by cheating on the poor fucker with his enemy and not getting caught?"

You started thrashing your arms and managed to free one before he pulled you over and slammed you back into wall by your neck again making you Yelp and cling to his wrist tightly.

"Is this really how you want to go? Half decayed and well fucked in his shower? And imagine he is the one who will find your body too... tragic."

He was bluffing... he was definitely bluffing... right?

"Is it?!"

He roared in your face, his voice echoing off the walls and you found yourself trembling in his hands, shaking your head no.

"Then be a good bitch like the horny little slut you are and cooperate."

You felt as if his words smeared over you and make your skin tingle with filth. He was right, you were not used to this kind of treatment. And your quivering legs and throbbing pussy was evidence enough that you did in fact find this thrilling.

Sensing your submission he freed your other arm from the hoodie, throwing it away before leaning down to hook his arms under your legs, picking you up and positioning you over his cock, the tip proding between your folds and poking at your hole. And unceremoniously thrusted himself all the way in, by letting you drop down onto his lenght. You gasped at the sudden stretch, arms flying from the wall to wrap around his neck to hold yourself steady as he stepped away from the wall, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

"Mmm your tight cunt never ceases to impress me. Does he fuck you at all?"

"... please stop..."

He chuckled and grabbed your ass with your legs draped over his arms and he started moving you over his cock, the position had you unable to do anything except cling to him tighter and clenching constantly around his dick from the hard angle, moaning into his neck. You could see the goosebumps on his skin and it oddly managed to give you a satisfying feeling.

Untill all sense was drawn out of your head as he started thrusting into you while he moved you up and down, drilling into you deeper and deeper each time. You screamed as your whole body went rigid and hard shivers ran down your spine, your toes curling as you came hard with his cock still screwing into you roughly, your scream drowning out into a quiet gaping mouth.

"Fuck... you used to be way harder to please. Missed me a lot, yeah?"

His nails dug threateningly into your hips but you refused to reply.

He pressed your back on the wall again, moving your legs all the way up over his shoulders, not bothering to pull out while changing the position.

"Still stubborn I see. No problem. I know how to deal with you."

"You're a one night stand gone wrong!"

You spat as you glared at him. Should not have said that. Should. Not. Have.

His fist found its way back into your hair and he pulled it up to expose your neck again.

"Is that right?"

He leaned all the way over you as his hips picked up a bruising pace, slapping against your ass with each thrust with a loud sound. His lips latched onto your neck and he started sucking on the skin. Shocked you went to push against his shoulder and he tightened his fist in your hair, forcing you to grab his arm instead from the pain burning on your scalp.

"What are you doing?! Stop!"

He changed the spot and started sucking another deep purple mark on the other side, before moving lower and sinking his teeth into your chest.

You yelped loudly digging your nails into his shoudlers and in return he move his mouth again biting your other breast.

"Fuck! Fuck! Stop! He will see those!"

"That's the point you dumb cunt. And that's not all either."

Feeling your distress had you clenching around his cock again he moved his hand and started rubbing your clit roughly as you squirmed and struggled.

"I'm going to cum soon with your dirty pussy milking me like that..."

Your breathing was ragged and you were moaning on each thrust and he absolutely loved the way your face scrunched up im horror from the realisation. He leaned in to whisper into your ear.

"That's right. Now tell me, are you a dirty little whore?"

"Please! Please don't!"

You were now half sobbing as you pleaded and gripped onto his shoulders.

"Answer me then. Are you a cheating filthy fucking whore?"

"I am! I'm a cheating whore! Please!"

"Oh but you're not any whore. You are mine. Your thirsty little cunt is all soaked for me alone. Right?"

"Yes! Only for you!"

"Do you think of me when he fucks you?"

You hesitated and he did not like that, delivering a harsh wet spank on your ass.

"Ah! Y-yes!"

"Yes what?"

You were now definitely crying, tears streaming down your face as guilt and pleasure mixed into your system, clinging to him desperate for some little comfort.

"Y-yes I think of you.. when he... when he fucks me..."

"So you missed me a lot, didn't you?"

"I missed you a lot..."

"Address me properly."

"I missed you a lot Tomuooo~"

And with that he rammed himself into you one more time, warmth exploding in your lower belly as to your horror he spilled his load inside you. Your whole body went limp, dread and fear gripping your chest and your throat. He turned off the tab and it was all silent except the sound of the last few droplets hitting the tiled floor before the silence was broken by his evil chuckle.

"Good, cause I'm far from done with you."

[sithsecrets]

rumors | din djarin x reader

A bit of gossip gets under your skin, but Din shows you that it's all a bunch of lies.

---

4k words

mentions: VERY EXPLICIT SMUT, fem!reader, a bit of harassment at the beginning, self-doubt, establishing a relationship, discussions about relationship dynamics, din tells reader his name

---

You know you’re in for trouble the minute two Guild Members sidle up next to you at the bar, shit-eating grins plastered on both of their faces.

They greet you and the baby with a kind of fake friendliness that makes your skin crawl, and not for the first time do you wonder what’s taking Mando and Greef so fucking long. The two men usually do business in under ten minutes, five if Mando can manage it, but of course today is the one day they decide to shoot the shit and pal around like old friends.

“So you’re Mando’s crew member, huh?” asks one of the bounty hunters, light eyes glinting mischievously as he leans in. “What’s he paying you these days anyway? Because I’d be happy to double his rate if it meant getting to have something as pretty as you around me all the time.”

“Ten percent,” you answer, choosing to ignore that last little comment, “and I’m perfectly okay with that.”

“That’s not bad,” Blue Eyes’ friend answers, brushing back a lock of his greasy hair with a smirk. “But what does that fee cover? You just a nanny for whatever the fuck that is,” he gestures to the Child in your lap, “or do you provide Mando with other services as well?”

On your left, Blue Eyes lets out a snicker, and Stringy Hair seems pleased with himself. You huff and roll your eyes, not at all in the mood for this shit.

“I take care of the baby and the ship, and I pilot the Crest from time to time.”

“You hear that, man? She’s a pilot and a maid!”

“Three guesses as to what she gives a good spit shine every night,” and then the two of them are absolutely cracking up, snickering behind their glasses as they toss back a round. They’re just mocking you now, so desperately trying to get a reaction, and you’re horrified by how it’s almost working. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction, but if they so much as—

“Everything alright over here?”

Mando’s voice is like a bucket of cold water down your back, startling you so badly that you almost fall off your barstool. The baby lets out a shriek of surprise, and you rush to make sure he’s secure in your arms before you turn around.

“Just fine,” you lie, rushing to get up. “We were just talking about your latest bounty.”

Stringy Hair and Blue Eyes don’t move to correct you, much more subdued now that Mando’s arrived on the scene. They greet him with respect, but he hardly gives the two dickheads a passing glance.

“We need to get back,” Mando tells you, and you’ve never been so glad to hear those words.

You nod, and then the three of you are trekking back to the Crest in silence. Mando goes up the cockpit immediately once you arrive, off to punch in the coordinates for his next quarry. Apparently Greef’s given him some kind of special assignment, so they journey to the next planet will be a long one.

The Crest lurches into hyperspace within minutes of takeoff, and you try to settle in for the evening, putting the baby down for the night, getting ready for bed yourself. The Child sleeps like a rock, but you aren’t so fortunate, tossing and turning in your little bed. It’s the conversation with those two assholes from earlier that’s got you so restless, their words playing over and over again in your head on loop. You don’t know why what they said bothers you, but it does. It bothers you a lot, in fact, mostly because they weren’t entirely wrong.

Everything you told Blue Eyes and Stringy Hair is true— Mando cuts you in ten percent on his bounties, and in exchange, you take care of the baby, maintain the ship (its living spaces and its mechanics, thank you very much), and you pilot the Crest from time to time when asked. But… But you’ve also fucked Mando before. Twice. Three times if you count the blowjob you gave him last week, but you’re not entirely sure that fits under the definition of “fucking.” Regardless of the details, you’ve had sexual contact with the Mandalorian— this is a fact. Mando’s never directly offered you money in return for sex, but it’s not like he didn’t just pay you your cut of his bounty less than an hour ago. And if those two pigs from the cantina could peg you at fifty yards, Maker knows what everybody else is thinking. Greef, Cara, even Peli on Tatooine— all of them must think you’re just Mando’s whore, right along with the rest of the Guild.

The idea of this weighs heavy on your mind, two parts of you waging an internal war. Your rational side says that you shouldn’t care what other people think of you— you’re a grown woman approaching thirty, and what you do with your body and your time is no one’s business but your own. The side of you that yearns to be accepted, however, worries that everyone’s secretly laughing at your behind your back, that they all think very little of you because of what you’ve done. And how could you blame them? You’ve let your employer fuck you twice, and all without him showing you an ounce of affection otherwise. Just thinking about it makes you feel remorseful, anxiety twisting in your stomach as you toss and turn in bed. And to make things worse, a third voice emerges in your mind, one that’s small and timid and raw. This little part of you wonders what Mando thinks of all this— it wonders what Mando thinks of you. You feel sick the minute it occurs to you, the notion that Mando could think nothing of you as well. Everyone else can say whatever they want, you suppose, if Mando still respects you at the end of the day. If he still cares for you at the end of the day…

After a whole hour, you decide that you won’t be sleeping until you get all of this sorted out. You’re almost shaking with anxiety as you approach the ladder, but you climb up to the cockpit anyway, calling out Mando’s name with a wavering voice. He says you can come in, and so you do, padding into the little space on socked feet.

“Everything okay?” Mando asks, vaguely distracted as he looks through holoimages on the display before him. You catch snatches of the same alien being in each one— Mando’s next quarry, no doubt.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “The baby’s asleep. He went down well tonight.”

Mando hums. “Good.”

“I, um. I’m having trouble sleeping, though, and I was hoping we could talk.”

Mando doesn’t look away from the holoimages as he speaks to you. “What about?”

You balk for a moment, gathering courage. “Us.”

Finally, it would seem you have Mando’s full attention. He shuts off the display and turns his chair until it faces you, the blue light of hyperspace reflecting off his armor and helmet. You grow shy under Mando’s gaze as you so often do, but you force yourself to be brave anyway. You can’t go on like this— you have to know.

“Us?” Mando echoes, titling his helmet just the slightest bit forward. You nod, and he straightens up again, regarding you. “What about us?”

“The sex,” you say slowly, “or, more specifically, why we had sex in the first place.”

“We had sex because we wanted to,” Mando says at once, and you just want to scream. He won’t make this easy on you, will he?

“Right, of course, but… but what made you want to come at me like that? Do you just like my body and how I look, or is it because you pay me—?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mando cuts, losing all semblance of cool indifference in one fell swoop, “you don’t— Please don’t tell me that you think having sex with me is part of your job.”

“I don’t, I don’t!” you declare, rushing to prevent a miscommunication before it happens. “I just— I just wasn’t sure why you wanted me of all people, and I met some people today that thought you hired me just so you could fuck me or whatever. They—”

“Was it those two fuckheads from the cantina?” Mando asks, tone absolutely murderous, and all you can do is nod. “What exactly did they say?”

“They asked me about my pay and about what’s ‘included in my fee,’” you reply, face burning at the thought of what Stringy Hair and Blue Eyes said at the bar. “They said you were probably paying me for sex the way you pay me to take care of the ship and the baby. It just… It made me self-conscious because we have had sex, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. I know they’re just assholes, but now I’m afraid everybody thinks that of me, especially Cara and Greef and your other friends.”

Mando lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Come here,” he says, beckoning you over with an outstretched hand. You hesitate to move, shocked by the gesture, and the Mandalorian repeats himself. “Come here, cyar’ika, please.”

The beskar is cold against the back of your thighs, but you settle in Mando’s lap anyway, sure you must be dreaming at this point. He fingers the hem of your long, baggy sleepshirt, one arm holding you securely.

“None of my friends think you’re fucking me for money,” Mando begins, “I promise. Those guys from the Guild you met today, they’re assholes just like you said. They might treat their women that way, but that’s not me. It never will be. Understand?”

You nod shyly, relishing in the way Mando begins drawing little circles at the base of your spine.

“Good. Now to answer your question… I had sex with you because I wanted to, yes, but it wasn’t just to get off. The baby likes you, and you do a good job taking care of the ship. People like you wherever we go… Ilike being around you.”

You’re smart enough to know that that’s a big statement coming from a man like Mando, and you reward him for this display of vulnerability with a soft smile.

“I like being around you too, Mando.”

The helmet tilts just the slightest bit, and you wonder what his expression looks like under the beskar.

“I like being around you,” Mando repeats, speaking slowly, “and… and I’m sorry. For starting like that, I mean.”

Your brows draw together. “What are you talking about?”

Mando readjusts his grip on your, and the way his hand settles over the curve of your thigh is enough to make you shiver. “I should have taken my time with you. Fucking you against the wall, bending you over those crates in the back— that’s fine sometimes, but you deserve more.”

“If that’s how you like it, I don’t—”

He cuts you off then, a gloved thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“I don’t care about me right now,” Mando says evenly, the tone of his voice picking at something deep in your stomach. “What do you want?”

It dawns on you then that this is foreplay— Mando’s decided he wants to fuck you again— and that makes your face hotter than fire itself. You know he’s waiting for an answer, so you decide to speak freely, the consequences of your words be damned.

“I want you to fuck me in bed,” you say slowly, whispering more than you’re talking. “With your gloves off. That’s not against the rules, right? You took them off the other day in front of me and Cara—”

“It’s not, mesh’la,” Mando affirms, the strange word dripping off his tongue like honey. You wonder what it means, though you don’t have the nerve to ask. “Go down to the hull and make us a space on the floor. I’ll be there in a minute.”

---

The darkness is disorienting, the blackness so black that you couldn’t see your own hand if it was two inches in front of your face. That’s by design, though, because none of this would be okay if you couldsee.

You had exactly two conditions earlier in the cockpit: in bed, no gloves. But it would seem that Mando had so much more in mind when he told you to come down here, and it’s anything beyond what you could have ever dreamed of. You’ve imagined this situation before, thought about what it might be like to know Mando this way, but to have it happen…

The beskar clangs softly as Mando lays it down, the sound letting you know that he’s somewhere off to your right. You’re sure he’s having no trouble seeing in the dark, given how many settings there on in his visor, but you can’t see a fucking thing. Not him, not his discarded armor, not even your own hand in front of you face. Under any other circumstance, you’d be afraid of the dark, but not now. No, now you simply tremble with anxiety, naked skin prickling with chills as you wait for Mando to undress himself. He stripped you first, of course, when the lights were still on, took his time and peeled your clothes off of you almost with reverence. You wish you could do the same to him, but something about that would be wrong you think— it would be crossing a line.

“Are you sure this is allowed?” you ask, almost whispering. The baby’s upstairs in the cockpit, dead to the world and tucked safely in his pram, and yet you still feel like you’re being too loud. Hyperspace is always so quiet, and the silence sets your teeth on edge even after all this time.

“Can you see me?” Mando asks, voice still filtered and staticky.

“I can’t even see myself,” you counter.

“Then it’s allowed.”

No more words pass between either of you for a moment, the space filled with the sound of clothes rustling. You hear a belt buckle and a zipper, can trace out the sounds of pants being kicked to the floor… Three short, bare footsteps, and then you aren’t alone on your little pallet anymore, Mando presence warm and undeniable close on the other side of the cushions.

“Cyar’ika.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the circumstances, or the fact that Mando speaks to you with a raw, unfiltered voice, but this one word picks at something inside you, gets you hot and needy where it counts. How many people has he laid down with like this? How many of them have heard Mando’s voice, his real voice, if any at all? You don’t know the answer to either of those questions, but you also don’t care, not right now.

“Can I touch you?” you ask softly, mustering all your strength and bravery. Mando doesn’t response, doesn’t so much as let out a breath, and so you jump when you feel his hand on your own. He guides you across the blankets, pulling you in closer, laying your palm on the warm, solid expanse of his forearm. Your fingers curl around it, squeezing the muscle, admiring the way Mando simply feels under your hands. He’s had so much of you— practically your whole body— and yet all you’ve been blessed with until tonight is the warmth of his hands, the feeling of his cock in you and on you. To feel his bare skin like this is strange, the fact that Mando is really and truly human coming into sharp focus as your fingers run along a scar, the hair on his arms…

“You’re handsome,” you declare, awed by feeling of Mando under your palms. He shudders when you lay your hand on the side of his face, the movement almost flinch-like in nature, but you’re quick to soothe his nerves with a gentle stroke of your thumb. You can’t imagine what this is like for Mando, can’t fathom what it must feel like to be touched when you hide yourself from everyone all the time. It’s in this moment that you realize he knows nothing of the sun or the wind, and your heart breaks for him.

“You wouldn’t say that if the lights were on.”

Mando sounds vaguely nervous now himself, voice more subdued than it was before. You have so much you want to say, want to shout out that you love everything about him and his body and your life together, but you that would be too much. No, doing something like that could ruin all of this in one fell swoop, and so you swallow those words down, replacing them with something else instead.

“If I ever get to see you one day,” you tell him, “I know for a fact that I’ll say the same thing. I promise.”

There’s a strange weight in that, a certain trust and understanding that you can’t put your finger on, but the pressure isn’t uncomfortable as it settles in the atmosphere, pressing you and Mando even closer. He pulls you under him without a word, holding you, twining your arms and legs and hands together until you aren’t sure where yours end and his begin. His kisses are tentative and unpracticed, but you feel the passion regardless, sighing as the press of Mando’s mouth tells you all the things he can’t say out loud. You don’t know how you ever got things twisted, aren’t sure how you could have possibly thought that Mando didn’t care for you because these aren’t the kisses and caresses of a man who sees you as little more than something to fuck. No, this is something else entirely, something better than you ever could have hoped for, and the rush of endorphins as your head swimming.

Your entire body arches when Mando begins to crawl down your body, his lips trailing over your neck and chest, your stomach and even the curve of your hip. “Mesh’la,” he says to you, murmuring into the spaces between your fingers. Mando’s paying particular attention to your hands now, kissing them delicately. “Listen to me, please.”

“Yes?” you say, half moaning as he drops your hand in favor of propping your legs open. The anticipation has you dizzy, brain fogged over completely as you wait, as you feel him line up your bodies—

Mando doesn’t say anything, not for several seconds, too distracted by the feel of you to speak. You’re fine with that, already too far gone to care after what, two, three thrusts? You couldn’t keep count if you wanted to, the haze in your brain too thick for any tedious mental activity to penetrate. Still, you try to listen like he asked, try to understand the words coming out of his mouth.

Mando’s voice is strained and low, but you catch everything regardless. “My name is Din,” he says to you, groaning shortly when you wind your fingers in his hair. “You can’t— You can’t say that in front of anyone, only to me and the baby. But that’s my name. I want you to call me by my name.”

“Anything you want, Din,” you say at once, and Maker does that have him swearing. Din does something with your body— opens your legs or lifts up your hips, something— and you see stars, whining brokenly. Not for the first time do you wish you could see his face or the plane of his back as he fucks you, but you have to admit that you’re glad that Din’s blind in all of this as well. You don’t even want to think about what you look like, how ruined and desperate your face must be. The pace is relentless now, and you find yourself struggling to keep up, keening and moaning and taking it until Din’s talking to you again.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, and you don’t understand.

“What?” you ask, breathless yourself. He hasn’t let up once since the two of you began, and even though you haven’t cum once, you already feel like you’re on another plane of existence.

“I’m sorry I never—” Din groans, adjusting his grip on your body. “I’m sorry I’m so bad at all of this shit. Talking and letting go and all the other stuff normal people do. I shouldn’t— You deserve more than that. I’m so sorry, cyar’ika.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you tell him, holding fast to his shoulders, his arms, anything you can get your hands on. You don’t know how to tell him that all this is more than enough to make up for everything, that there’s hardly anything to make up for as it is.

“Yes, there is,” Din presses, and you know he wants to say more, but you cut him off before he can continue.

“Make me cum and kiss me while you do it,” you say to him, “and we’ll call it even.”

And Din seems more than happy to accept the deal, his fingers on your clit not three seconds after you’re done talking. You cum almost too fast, blindsided by your orgasm despite the fact that it’s been building for what feels like years now. Din’s not far behind you, asking whether or not he can cum inside you, and you tell him no, not this time. You have a long-term implant, but you it hasn’t been looked at by a medic in well over a year. It’s probably fine, but you’d rather be safe than sorry. And anyway, it’s not like the feeling of Din’s cum painting your stomach and chest isn’t incredibly hot, so you’re by no means complaining as you lie there and listen to him jerk himself off, your name falling from his lips.

“Stay here,” Din tells you, speaking gently even as he works to catch his breath. You miss him the second he’s gone, your ears straining to track his movements in the dark. Careful footsteps, the shuffling of blankets, the click of the light in the ‘fresher— you can’t see Din, not from this angle, but the idea that he even trusts you enough to cut a light on at a time like this has your heart pounding. He’s completely exposed in there, helmet still sitting next to his armor across the hull, and you almost close your eyes on reflex as you listen to the water run. But it’s all for nothing because Din tells you to do it anyway, turning off the faucet and stepping out into the hull again after you say that you’ve done as he asked.

The washcloth Din cleans you with is warm, a fact that’s not lost on you as you lie there in the semi-darkness. He’s quiet, but the delicate, precise nature of Din’s work speaks volumes. You want to ask him if this is something he does for everyone he sleeps with, but you keep your mouth shut, thinking a question like that might ruin the mood. He goes away from you again once your stomach’s clean, cutting off the light in the ‘fresher and discarding the rag all while you keep your eyes closed. It’s not until Din’s back in bed beside you that you dare to so much as crack them open, afraid you might glimpse too much if you move any sooner.

“Thank you,” you murmur. You’re not sure if you’re thanking Din for the sex or for cleaning you up, but it’s probably a bit of both.

“You’re welcome, cyar’ika,” he replies, pulling you in close. “Are you tired?”

You don’t speak for a moment, thinking of how hard it is to keep your eyes open now, how your thighs ache and your body yearns for rest. “Yeah.”

“Sleep, then,” Din tells you, and you almost feel pathetic for clinging to him like a child. Almost.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

You aren’t sure why you’re asking— it’s not like Din has anywhere else to go— but his answer is important to you regardless.

“Right here, mesh’la,” he tells you, sounding tired now himself. “I promise.”

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Desperate For It (Don’t Look At Me)

Pairing: geralt x jaskier Warning(s): omorashi, desperation, wetting, light dom/sub Rating: explicit

Summary:   Jaskier accidentally discovers a new kink when he drinks too much during a performance.

This is the very first time I’ve written something like this and I’m still a little uncertain of it, but I hope someone enjoys it <3

The one plus of attending banquets as Jaskier's bodyguard Geralt thinks, is that no one thinks twice about offering him drinks. Which means he doesn't have to sit through nobles fawning over Jaskier sober, even if he knows Jaskier would prefer he stayed sober. But Geralt finds Jaskkier's performances easier to handle when he's intoxicated, not because he dislikes Jaskier's voice or his music, but because he finds it easier to tolerate the other attendees. Or maybe because he tries less to pretend he doesn't actually appreciate Jaskier's showmanship very much when he's drunk. Maybe too much.

Jaskier is currently flitting around from person to person, basking in their flattery and returning it in droves, his voice sickly sweet and tinged with arousal. He's had a few already as well, and has already started making eyes at Geralt between visiting his admirers. Another reason Geralt finds it easier to attend these events drunk.

He keeps his eye on Jaskier up until he takes the stage, at which point it's safe to sit back for a little while and listen to him sing bawdy ballads thinly disguised as love songs. Secretly, he loves them, has imagined Jaskier in all the compromising positions he sings about, even if he knows he shouldn't. The drink helps with that, too. He tries not to think too much about it tonight, though, focusing more on the people around him and the sway of Jaskier's hips as he slips from the stage to mingle with the crowd once more. They love it, they always do.

Women fan themselves as he approaches, batting their eyes at him and men puff up winking as he gently bumps into them. Jaskier certainly knows how to work the crowd, how to get them excited about an otherwise regular performance. And when he slips up next to Geralt, Geralt finds he's not wholly unaffected either, even if he knows it's an act. There's a break in the song, and Jaskier leans in closer. Geralt holds his breath for a moment, but cryptically, Jaskier whispers,

"Get me out of here during the intermission."

But during the intermission, the Lady of the house joins the party, calling for drinks for her entourage and beelining for Jaskier. Geralt tries not to overhear, but it's hard when the woman is making no attempt to quiet her invitation for Jaskier to join her in her private chambers. Surprisingly, Jaskier doesn't look as thrilled as he might normally. Geralt frowns, but as Jaskier quickly excuses himself, Geralt catches a whiff of desperation from his direction. His suspicions are quickly confirmed when Jaskier sidles up next to him.

"I need you to distract Lady Marabelle."

"What interest does she have in me?"

"I don't care. Pretend there's a vampire amongst the guests, Geralt, I need a piss and she won't leave me alone."

Oh. Something in Geralt's stomach clenches and he shoves it down immediately. He fully intends to approach Lady Marabellem but then she's coming toward them, grinning widely and requesting one of Jaskier's more popular songs. He tries to make excuses but he's ushered back toward the stage and Geralt sympathizes, but there's still a part of him threatening to get to the surface that enjoys the fact that Jaskier can't relieve himself like he wants to.

He tries to push past it, but with every dip and twirl he knows Jaskier is holding his bladder, that he desperately needs a piss and it's… far more arousing than it should be. It shouldn't be arousing at all, but he can't stop thinking about it, about wrapping a hand around Jaskier's prick and jerking him off while he holds his piss, forcing him to come before he's allowed to let go.

Maybe the alcohol was a bad idea for both of them.

An hour goes by before Jaskier gets another break and he's soaked in sweat when he finds Geralt near the edge of the room. Two young men approach him to proposition him, then an elderly woman comes to compliment his voice and Jaskier stumbles through a no and a thank you before scurrying over to Geralt.

This time, Geralt can smell the desperation on him immediately, thick and cloying, and his cock stirs in his trousers. He's not quite drunk enough to tease him, but he's gone enough to consider it.

"Please," Jaskier whines, "Geralt you have to get me out of here before I piss myself."

Heat sears up the back of his neck and Geralt's only glad Jaskiker is distracted by the need to pee or he'd surely notice the flush in his cheeks. Because the thought of him not making it, of wetting himself - especially here especially surrounded by all these people - makes him terribly hot. He doesn't even trust himself to speak, just grabbing Jaskier's bicep and tugging him toward the door.

They make their way through the corridors, and Geralt's barely holding it together with the little whimpers and whines that spill from Jaskier's lips. He wants to thrust him up against the wall and see how long he can make him last. But Jaskier continues to groan and the small part of him that's not hnorrifically aroused by Jaskier's misery, sympathizes.

"Fuck, Geralt, hurry-"

"I can't go any faster-"

"I'm not gonna make it, fuck-"

"Yes you are," Geralt growls, if only because if he doesn't make it, Jaskier wetting himself isn't going to be the worst of their problems.

He pushes through the crowds, apologizing roughly as he tugs Jaskier along behind him and he can smell it getting worse, can feel the way Jaskier's body clenches to prevent embarrassing himself. Finally, just as Jaskier is pleading with him to let him piss in the hall, they reach an outside door and burst out into the courtyard.

There are people all over, but Geralt hauls Jaskier over to the side of the yard, standing behind him to shelter him as Jaskier fumbles with his trousers. He's shifting from foot to foot whining and isn't making any progress with his ties when he lets out a little fuck-

Geralt smells it before Jaskier can hiss at him that he's leaking and his hands are on Jaskier's trousers immediately, quickly untying him and pulling his cock out.

He's wet and it makes Geralt's head spin, he has to try so hard not to stroke him as Jaskier lets go but he wants to. He wants to stroke him slowly, let him feel it as he finally empties his bladder, but he doesn't know how well it would go over. Even with Jaskier in the state he's in.

When Jaskier finishes, he lets out a little whimper and slumps back against Geralt's chest. He's hard under Geralt's fingers and his hand twitches around him. Jaskier's hips shift and Geralt tightens around him, slipping up to the head of his cock and squeezing. Instead of pulling away. Jaskier gasps and leans harder into him, pressing his face into Geralt's neck. It doesn't take much to get him off just a couple more strokes and Jaskier's shuddering through his orgasm, spilling onto the grass between his feet.

Geralt's cock is rock hard in his trousers, wet with pre-come, but he wipes the come from Jaskier's cock and tucks him back into his trousers, leaving him alone in the courtyard.

They're already both well into their cups the next time Jaskier mentions it. It's been weeks since the banquet, but evidently he's been thinking about it too. Geralt's not sure if this should come as a relief or not, but it is.

"Geralt," he says matter-of-factly, swaying over to him, "I need a piss."

"Door's over there," Geralt grunts, taking another swig of his ale. They're staying at an inn in the middle of nowhere, Jaskier knows as well as he does there's no privy here.

"No," Jaskier corrects, "I really need a piss."

Geralt's heart picks up and he can feel his eyes go wide despite himself. Jaskier can't really be offering what he thinks he is… can he?

"Come out with me? Please?"

"No," Geralt says and Jaskier deflates, "you stay right there, I'm getting another drink."

Even as he rises from the table, he hears Jaskier's sharp intake of breath and he grins to himself. He might not be able to touch him like he wants, to make him writhe under his hands, but he can certainly make him squirm.

It's not until his fifth drink that Jaskier asks to go outside and Geralt easily denies him. He's squirmy, yes, but Geralt knows how much he can take now. In Toussaint, he very nearly pissed his trousers, but that was after hours or free drinks and performing, this is nothing in comparison.

"Hold it," Geralt says simply, his cock twitching in his trousers at the mere implication of it.

"Geralt," Jaskier squirms, "I can't, please, I haven't gone since we left Hagge, I'm gonna piss right here -"

His hand darts between his legs, squeezing his cock and shifting into the touch.

"Does getting hard make it easier to hold it?" Jaskier nods and Geralt has an idea. "Come here."

"No, Geralt please, I can't any longer, please-"

"You can. Come here."

Jaskier whimpers but rises from his seat, shuffling over to where Geralt's seated, legs spread wide. Jaskier's eyes drop to his cock where it's unmistakably hard in his trousers, but when he looks back up at him, Geralt interrupts.

"Sit down."

Jaskier does as he's told, seating himself between Geralt's thighs, pushing back far enough that Geralt's cock settles against his ass. It takes all his strength not to grind up against him as he pulls Jaskier close. He fumbles with the ties on his trousers, undoing them and sliding a hand inside to wrap around his cock.

Jaskier gasps at the first touch bucking into his hand then pulling away sharply.

"Geralt-" he hisses, but Geralt just squeezes more firmly, one hand sliding low on his stomach.

"Unless you're gonna piss on me, quiet."

Even as he says it his cock twitches and his gut clenches. He shouldn't be so eager for Jaskier to piss in his lap, but even as he continues to stroke his cock, he wonders if he might just… not let him go.

But when he really starts to squirm, when Geralt feels the first little droplets slip from him, he relents. Jaskier wants to play, but he doesn't know how far he wants to take it.

Geralt's rises to his feet, one hand still firmly wrapped around jaskier's prick and he walks him out the back door of the thankfully empty Inn. Jaskier immediately drops to his knees, finally letting go as Geralt kneels behind him.

It's intentional this time, when he brings him off. Jaskier's so worked up it doesn't take much and he comes almost as soon as he's finished pissing, his thighs shaky when Geralt runs his hands down them.

Jaskier leaves him to call for a bath and Geralt remains, shoving his trousers down and frantically fucking his own fist. He comes hard with the image of Jaskier squirming with need burned into his mind.

The next time Jaskier asks, both of them are sober and Geralt manages to keep his hands off of him until Jaskier relieves himself. He comes even harder this time.

It becomes routine for them, almost any time they're alone and somewhere safe, Jaskier will come to him sheepishly and Geralt is always more than happy to play. He never comes with Jaskier, but watching him work himself up almost to the point of wetting himself is worth the denial.

The first time Geralt gets off with him, they're snowed in in Kaedwen and there's not much else to do at the inn. So when Jaskier wakes him from a nap to show him his belly, swollen with drink, Geralt is out of bed immediately.

"Challenged a couple of the guys to a drinking contest," he explains, "didn't want to get drunk so I- ugh- drank water and apple juice. Drank them under the table," he chuckles, strained.

"I bet you did, so full for me, hm? How bad do you want it?"

"Fuck, Geralt, I might need your hand tonight. Get me hard, please-"

"You're already hard," Geralt rumbles, nosing against the back of his neck and sliding a hand over his crotch. "You like it, don't you? Holding for me."

"Mmhm," Jaskier mumbles, "oh, fuck-" he drops to his knees and Geralt follows, squeezing him through his trousers.

He leans over him, hips pressed to Jaskier's, draped over his back and braced on the floor. His cock throbs where it presses into jaskier's ass, but he ignores it. He's gotten good at denying himself until Jaskier's taken his own pleasure.

"Geralt I'm, fuck, m gonna piss. Please -"

"Little longer."

"Fuck. Please. Ah-"

Geralt's hips shift and he moans low against jaskier's neck, nipping at his skin.

"No."

"I can't hold it."

"You can."

"I can't-"

"Then you'll piss yourself," Geralt growls.

He knows Jaskier can last a little longer, he can't even smell the piss yet, but when he strokes his cock through his trousers, Jaskier cries out. He shoves Geralt's hand away, tearing at his trousers and he's already dribbling over his hand before he gets his cock out and finishes on the floor.

Geralt slides an arm around him, but he's blindsided by his own orgasm. He ruts against jaskier's ass, too overwhelmed and surprised to do anything but hold onto jaskier's prick as he soaks the floor.

After that Jaskier gets handsier, reaching back to cup Geralt's cock and play with him to keep his mind off his own need. He works himself up to it, running his hands up his thighs or covering Geralt's hands when he touches him but he gets braver. He palms at Geralt's cock through his clothes, squeezes and strokes him and the feel of his hand combined with the burning arousal of watching him squirm is a potent combination. If it wasn't for his training, he would have come three times over before Jaskier even gets his cock out to piss.

As it is, he's trembling when Jaskier twists and kisses him. It's abrupt and he's not expecting it, but Geralt sinks into the kiss with a moan, still jerking Jaskier's cock even after he's come. His own cock throbs under Jaskier's touch and he rocks into the touch. The longer it goes on, the less control he has when he gets horny, and he wants to fuck Jaskier more than he's ever wanted anything in his life.

Jaskier's fingers wrap around him and Geralt buries his face in his neck, fucking into the tunnel of his fingers. He groans and he aches and Jaskier just squeezes him harder, pressing his hips back to keep the space between them minimal. It's not until he's leaning over Jaskiers shoulder, propping himself up on his thigh, that he realizes Jaskier is touching himself. He's hard again, slick with his own release and jerking hard even as he squeezes around Geralt.

That's all it takes to push Geralt over the edge and he's coming hard, twitching as he shoots up Jaskier's back. Jaskier follows almost immediately, shaking through it and catching Geralt's mouth in another bruising kiss. In all the time they've been doing this, they've never kissed and now Geralt can't help himself. He deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around Jaskier's stomach and holding him. It's… a little overwhelming.

The sex and the deseperation is one thing, but he never expected Jaskier to want him like this. It softens as they come down and Jaskier reaches around, wrapping an arm around Geralt's neck.

"Fuck," he mumbles, lips barely leaving Geralt's.

"Mmm," Geralt agrees, eyes still shut and leaning in for more.

Jaskier obliges him, nipping playfully at his lips and pressing into his chest. He's soft and cuddly and for a moment Geralt can forget that they're both a mess and just hold Jaskier against him. They linger for a little while before Jaskier squirms away and climbs properly into his lap.

"'S more fun when you come, too," he hums, "I know you want to, I know how hard it gets you."

"Jask-"

"Let me make you come," Jaskier breathes, "I know you sneak off and get yourself off after."

"Sorry-" Geralt starts, but he's interrupted before he can continue, before he can tell Jaskier he never meant for him to find out.

"Don't be sorry, I love it. Come for me next time," Jaskier whispers, leaning in to kiss just under his ear, "on purpose."

Geralt can't keep those words out of his mind. Days pass and he's still thinking about Jaskier whispering in his ear, asking him to come for him. It's arousing and more than he could have hoped for. They haven't had time to play since, but more than once Geralt has brought himself off remembering Jaskier in his lap and telling him he wants him to come for him.

They start heading north, preparing for the trek up to Kaer Morhen in a few week's time and they both know their winter stay means a break from their play. Geralt is torn, happy to have Jaskier come with him for the winter, but disappointed not to be able to get off with him for the full five months they'll be there. So when they get to town and Jaskier is performing that night, Geralt doesn't seek out a job like he normally would. Instead, he orders drinks to their room and waits for Jaskier to return from his lunch session.

When he comes back to the room and sees the table of drinks lined up and waiting for him, a grin spreads across his face and he meets Geralt's gaze with a glint in his eyes. He crosses the room quickly, climbing up into Geralt's lap and wrapping his arms around his neck. Geralt isn't sure what to do with himself, so he lets his hands settle on Jaskier's hips, settling into the position with surprising ease.

"What do you want from me, tonight?" Jaskier asks, tilting his head playfully. His eyelids drop and he drops his gaze to Geralt's lips before kissing his cheek.

Geralt's skin prickles under every touch and he brings one hand up to the back of his hand, tangling his fingers in Jaskier's hair.

"I want to see you squirm while you're playing for them. I want you aching and desperate and I want to make you come so hard you cry."

Jaskier whimpers, hips twitching and then he's shoving Geralt down to the bed, kissing him hard.

"I want you," he breathes, "wanna ride that pretty cock of yours, make you come again and again- fuck." He nips at Geralt's bottom lip, dragging his teeth along it as he pulls away. "Want you," he whispers and Geralt grins sideways at him, breathing heavily.

He wants Jaskier so badly he can't even properly express it, but if Jaskier wants it too, that's good enough for now.

"Get ready for your show," he whispers, "I'll be watching." He draws him in for one final kiss, then lets him go.

Geralt tries not to watch as Jaskier prepares for the show by making his way through the drinks laid out for him. If he thinks too much about it, he gets hard in anticipation, eager to get on with it. Jaskier notices and comes up to him, running his fingers over Geralt's filling cock.

"Darling, you're so hard already."

He presses into Geralt's neck, humming against his skin and kissing his way down to his throat. When he pulls back, he ficks his eyes up to Geralt then drops to his knees.

Jaskier sucks him off, quick and precise, and when Geralt comes he takes him deep, swallowing it all. Geralt's head lolls back on his head but Jaskier tucks him back into his trousers and rises back to his feet, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"No more watching," he hums, "you'll get me going too soon."

Geralt deepens the kiss before drawing back, still panting against Jaskier's mouth. He presses quick kisses to his lips before Jaskier laughs softly and pushes him away.

"Why don't you go and have supper and a bath arranged for us, hm? I'm sure we'll both want it after tonight." He winks at him and pushes him away gently with a hand to his chest. "I have to prepare."

Despite keeping his distance, Geralt is already vibrating with anticipation by the time Jaskier takes the stage to perform. Something about tonight feels different; maybe it's the gentleness with which Jaskier has been touching him or the closeness that keeps creeping into their encounters. He's always felt more than simple friendship or attraction to Jaskier, but it's becoming more obvious that Jaskier feels the same and Geralt is still trying to figure out how to cope with that.

He constantly wants to kiss him, to hold him, and Jaskier slowly guides them toward that, lingering longer after they play or cuddling up against Geralt's back when they sleep. Geralt feels greedy because he always wants more and more, but Jaskier is always a step ahead, offering himself up before Geralt can work himself up to asking.

Tonight is the first time they've done anything public since the first time and while Geralt has been thinking about it for weeks, Jaskier was the one to suggest it. It had been a passing comment a few days prior, something he wanted to try before they headed north and had to cease their activities for a few months. Geralt has been waiting for the perfect chance and tonight feels right.

He sits at a central table near the back of the tavern with a perfect view of Jaskier where he'll be seated to perform and his cock is already twitching just at the thought of it. He has his own drink and one for Jaskier waiting for him for during the break and his fingers curl around his tankard. When Jaskier finally comes out on stage, Geralt can already pick up a faint scent of need on him and it makes his gut clench. He's gotten better at recognizing the scent, picking it up before Jaskier has to tell him and it's made for some incredible orgasms on the road when he bars Jaskier from relieving himself as soon as he scents it.

It's faint right now, but certainly there and Geralt watches Jaskier's expression as he takes a seat and rests his lute on his knee, smiling and waving to the crowd. He launches right into it, playing a selection of bawdy ballads chosen specifically for the audience, most of them younger working men.

Halfway through his performance, he takes a break and Geralt can see how desperate he is already. When he comes to collect his drink, he's sweaty and twitchy, his breath shallow.

"How do you feel?" Geralt asks, running a hand down his side.

"Fuck, I wanna piss."

"Good." Geralt nudges the tankard toward him. "Drink." Jaskier drinks and as he dips down to kiss him, Geralt presses a hand to his crotch, squeezing him through his trousers. "You're getting hard already," he muses, "everyone's going to be watching you, staring at your cock. You'd better not leak."

"Fuck," Jaskier mumbles, "you're awful." He kisses him again before finishing his drink and disappearing back into the crowd.

This time when Jaskier takes the stage, it's clear he's worked up. He's squirmy, keeping his legs folded and trying not to jostle himself too much. Geralt slips a hand between his thighs, cupping his swelling cock and stroking himself slowly. He plays with the idea of jerking off right here, of bringing himself off watching Jaskier squirm, but Jaskier wants to make him come and that is enough to slow his ministrations.

He doesn't stop entirely though, pressing down on his cock as he picks up Jaskier's desperation scent again and rubbing himself slowly. When Jaskier finishes, he quickly darts away and Gerlt shoves his stool back, following him upstairs. Jaskier is waiting for him, standing in the middle of the room with his knees pressed together and one hand clenched around his cock.

"Geralt, I can't hold it," he wines, "I thought I could but I-"

"Take your shirt off. Doublet too."

Jaskier looks at him pleadingly but reluctantly removes his hand from his prick, peeling off his upper layers. His trousers are still dry, but he reeks of desperation and Geralt wants to throw him down on the bed and suck his cock until he wets himself. He holds back, but keeps his gaze focused on Jaskier. His belly is swollen and he ache to touch it, to pull Jaskier close to him and-

"Please-" Jaskier whimpers and when Geralt's eyes snap up to his, there are tears in his eyes.

"How long," Geralt asks, his voice rough and low. "How long have you been holding it?"

"Last night," Jaskier whines, "I thought I'd surprise you, wanted to- fuck, Geralt-"

Geralt surges forward before he can help himself, catching Jaskier's mouth in a rough kiss, nipping at his lips. He slides a hand down his chest, pressing lightly against his belly and Jaskier shudders, whining frantically into his mouth. Geralt kisses him harder, cups his jaw with one hand and he takes Jaskier's hand and presses it against his own cock.

"I can't-" Jaskier whines and Geralt releases his cock, pulling away.

"You can."

"Please-"

Geralt ignores him, stepping back to sit on the bed, legs spread wide as he watches from a distance. Jaskier squirms before him shifting from foot to foot and clutching at his cock to keep from losing control. And Geralt's cock aches in his trousers. He's rock hard now, jutting up obscenely and he touches himself through his leathers, letting Jaskier see the slow way he slides his fingers up his covered length and how he pushes up into the touch.

"Geralt-" Jaskier cries out, both hands on his cock and Geralt growls low. He can smell the scent of urine now, knows he's not fuckign around this time, but he can't help but push.

"Hands off," he commands and Jaskier sobs as he pulls his hands back, holding them behind his back.

"Geralt please I can't, I really can't."

Geralt says nothing, but watches as Jaskier's movements get jerkier and jerkier, until he's doubled over and actively sobbing to go outside, but Geralt can't let him, can't pass this up.

"Straighten up."

Jaskier whimpers as he stands up straighter and Geralt can see his cock through his trousers now, swollen a little and certainly wet at the tip. Jaskier cries out and jerks and a wet patch forms in the front of his trousers.

"Please Geralt, I'm gonna piss myself."

"No."

"Geralt-"

"No, Jaskier."

He squirms and jerks trying to keep his hands off himself, and the tang of embarrassment seeps into his scent. Geralt can't keep his eyes off him, watching the way he doubles over with each little spurt and then he's begging, pleading with Geralt to let him take his cock out, but Geralt is too far gone and has no intention of letting him.

"Fuck," Jaskier whimpers a tiny sound accompanied but another spurt of piss and the dark spot on his trousers grows larger. "Fuck, I can't stop, I can't-"

Geralt watches in delight as the dark patch grows and grows and Jaskier drops his head back, whining with embarrassment as he soaks himself. But Geralt's cock is like steel in his trousers, pre-come forming a matching wet patch in his own clothes. Piss puddles on the floor round Jaskier's feet and Geralt is on his feet in an instant, hauling Jaskier back against his chest and unbuttoning his trousers immediately.

He shoves his hand inside, stroking Jaskier's prick even as the stream continues, his other palm pressed to his abdomen and pushing. Jaskier whimpers and writhes in his arms, wet and filthy and Geralt can't help but rut against him, teeth grazing the back of his neck.

His only indication that Jaskier is finished is when he slumps against Geralt, but he doesn't linger long. He's quickly pulling away, refusing to look at him.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, gods-" he chokes, "I wanted to- I couldn't- oh gods, I'm so sorry-"

Gerlt slips up behind him, holding Jaskier's shoulders and pressing his cock against his ass firmly enough to demonstrate how completely aroused he is.

"Can I fuck you?" he blurts, nosing in Jaskier's hair. Jaskier makes a choking sound and Geralt presses a hand to the front of his trousers, pressing the damp fabric against his prick. "Fuck, Jask, I want you-"

"I thought you-" Jaskier stumbles, "thought you just wanted to see me squirm."

"I do, but- gods, Jask you're fucking filthy," Geralt sucks at the side of his neck, and a little breathy goran escapes Jaskier's lips. "So good for me. You tried so hard."

"I did," Jask agrees, "had to piss so bad-"

"Mm and look at you now," Geralt squeezes him through the wet fabric, "I think you like it, hm? A little bit?"

Jaskier nods and Geralt groans against his skin. He wraps one arm around his chest, sliding his other hand down over Jaskier's ass and squeezing. He grabs one of Jaskier's hands and presses it against own cock.

"Me too," he rumbles, "feel how much I love you like this, how badly I want you."

"Fuck me," Jaskier chokes, "Geralt, please-"

He doesn't get another word out before Geralt shoves him up against a wall tugging his trousers down and running his fingers between Jaskier's cheeks. He presses against his hole, slipping in just a little and Jaskier gasps under him. He's already slick and Geralt can't help but push inside, sliding in up to the second knuckle and letting Jaskeir buck back onto him.

"You wanted this," Geralt hums and Jaskier nods.

"Not exactly like this," he huffs, clenching around Geralt's fingers, "but yeah. Want you, want your cock, please."

Geralt gets a second finger into him, fucking him steadily on them as Jaskier whines. He's loose and ready, clearly spent a long time prepping himself for this and Geralt' mind supplies an image of him, already wanting to piss and fingering himself open in preparation for Geralt's cock.

"How did it feel?" he pants, "fucking yourself on your fingers when you had to piss like that."

"Good. Nearly came just like that. Would've ruined your fun," he chuckles.

"Wish I'd seen it." Geralt slips out of him and teases a third finger at his rim. "Bet you squirmed so nicely."

Geralt pushes into him and when he finds little resistance, he doesn't linger. He pulls out and fumbles with his own trousers, tugging his cock out. He's already leaking, slick with pre-come and when he presses himself against Jaskier's hole, he moans, burying his face in Jaskier's hair. He pushes further, steadily sinking into him and his eyes roll back in his head as Jaskier twists to face him.

He kisses him soft and slow, but Geralt is too wound up, aching for it and thrumming with adrenaline. He deepens it and Jaskier follows his lead, letting himself be kissed hard and rough, lips bruised from Geralt biting at them.

When Geralt finally settles inside him, he's deep and Jaskier's body is hot and tight around him, squeezing with every little shift. He moves his hips experimentally and Jaskier whimpers, shoving his hips back to keep Gerakt buried inside him, so Geralt keeps his thrusts shallow but hard, driving into him and groaning against his neck. But his body is vibrating, he needs and he can't keep himself from jerking hard.

"Fuck me," Jaskier breathes, "Geralt, please."

He doesn't need anything more than that, pulling back and fucking back into him hard. He lets his mind go calm, almost meditative as he nuzzles against the back of Jaskier's neck, roughly kissing his skin and he snaps his hips. Jaskier's legs shift apart and his trousers slip a little, but Geralt gets a hand around them, using them for leverage as he pounds into him.

He fucks him quick and hard, gasping as Jaskier whimpers under him bracing himself against the wall with one arm while the other slips away. Geralt doesn't realize he's touching himself until Jaskier drops his head back on his shoulder, huffing desperately.

"Fuck," he breathes, "so good, darling, just- oh, right there-"

Geralt aims for that same spot again, catching Jaskier's mouth in a bruising kiss. It's uncomfortable at the angle but neither is willing to give up even as Geralt fucks him quicker, harder.

"Fuck," Geralt growls, batting Jaskeir's hand away from his cock. He slips his own fingers around him, fisting him in time with his thruss because he knows he won't last long now, not with Jsskeir giving way It so sweetly, now with the little sounds spilling from his lips. He wants to bring him off first.

It doesn't take much longer with Geralt's hand on him before Jaskier's coming hard, shooting up against the wall and slumping against it. He goes limp, Geralt's hands on him the only thing keeping him upruight and he holds him steady, fucking quicker and harder until his thrusts grow chopping and desperate.

When he comes, he buries himself deep, pressing his nose into the side of Jaskier's neck and kissing his shoulder. As his orgasm washes over him, the adrenaline ebbs away and his legs shake under him.

Geralt pulls out and drops to the floor, bundling Jaskier back up into his arms. He rolls him onto his side and pushes Jaskier's damp hair out of his face, leaning in to kiss him breathlessly. His heart pounds and his softening cock is sensitive where it slides against Jaskier's damp trousers, but he's barely aware of anything but Jaskier's body against him, through the fog of arousal.

When he finally breaks the kiss, he rolls onto his back with a huff of a laugh and Jaskier shuffles up next to him.

"Bet you're glad we ordered that bath now, hm?"

"Mmm." Geralt leans over and kisses him.

"I'm disgusting," Jaskier huffs, pushing him playfully away.

"You're not," Geralt mumbles, reaching back to him, "love you like this." He tugs Jaskier on top of him, running his hands down his back to cup his ass. "Love you," he whispers, softer still and Jaskier's lips twitch before he leans down to kiss him, hands pushing through Geralt's hair.

"Love you," he breathes.

They lay on the floor, tangled up in each other until a knock on the door signals the arrival of the chambermaids. Jaskier quickly strips out of his sodden clothes and wraps a sheet around his waist, waiting for the bath to be filled. Geralt tips the maids a fair sum and sees them out before stripping bare and hauling Jaskier up into his arms.

"I'd like to do this again," Jaskier says when they're both submerged in warm, soapy water. "I… rather enjoyed it."

"I could tell," Geralt rumbles. He settles a hand on Jaskier's belly, rubbing his thumb through a thick patch of hair. "Though I was thinking… what if next time we don't come back to the room first?"

"Geralt-"

"I like the idea of you squirming in my lap," he hums. Jaskier flushes but Geralt can smell the faint scent of reignited arousal. "What do you think?"

"Yeah," Jaskier breathes, "yeah, that could be good."

[drabbles-mc]

All Mine

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by Anon: If you are taking them, I have a request! The reader and EZ are best friends and she is close to Angel who secretly loves her. But once EZ joins the MC and the reader hangs around more, Angel gets jealous of EZ because she is hanging out with him, not knowing the reader is in love with Angel. Angel becomes distant from her but she stops by his place to talk to him because she misses him and so much possessive smut, bruises, hickeys 🥵 I love your writing and wanted to request ❤️

Warnings: language, angst, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of bodily fluids (male + female), unprotected sex

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I was just thinking that I need to write something for Angel soon and this request was perfect for that so thank you. Got some backstory and buildup to really get the angsty vibes going before we get to the smut. As someone who is a big fan of hickeys and the like this request really spoke to me lmao. Hope you guys enjoy!! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @helli4nthus​ @angelreyesgirl​ @starrynite7114​ @queenbeered​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @sadeyesgf​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​​ @yourwonkywriter​​ @sesamepancakes​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @plentyoffandoms​​ @georgiaaintnopeach​​ @twistnet​​ @amandinesblogofstuff​​ @garbinge​​ @bucky-iss-bae​​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing don’t hesitate to let me know, I’ll add you to the list!)

If there was anything that could be said about being friends with the Reyes brothers, it was that it was never boring. You’d all been friends for a long time, having gone through life together from high school on. You and EZ had been in the same grade and became best friends almost instantly, and it was difficult to be friends with EZ without also being roped into a friendship with his brother, too. Not that you minded—the three of you always managed to have a good time together.

And the friendship you had formed with Angel was pivotal when EZ was shipped off to Stockton. Never boring didn’t always mean fun. But the two of you kept each other sane throughout the whole ordeal. You’d always gotten along well, but in those years that EZ was away you and Angel really fell into a flow with each other. You were practically living over at his place. The couch always had blankets and pillows on it for you just in case you stopped in and stayed the night, which happened more and more frequently as time went on, especially on nights after you took the time to go visit EZ. You wondered why Angel didn’t go as often, but you knew better than to pull at those strings. Even though you knew a lot about the Reyes brothers and their family, you were also aware that there were a lot of things that you weren’t privy to, and you respected that.

You’d gotten good at patching Angel up, physically and emotionally. Whether he was coming home busted up from whatever was happening with the club, or you came over to find him a drunken emotional mess because of what life had put him through, you had slowly but surely figured out how to help him through it. Your first-aid skills improved a lot in the years that EZ was away.

And, somewhere along the way, you’d fallen in love with Angel in the mess of it all. There wasn’t an exact moment where you could pinpoint that it happened. But spending all that time together, getting each other through the rough patches and celebrating together in the good times, really carved out a space in your heart that was reserved just for Angel Reyes. You kept that to yourself, though. You knew that if he felt the same way at all, he would’ve said something or made a move of some kind. It stung sometimes, but you knew that having him in your life as a best friend was preferable to not having him at all.

“He’s coming home next week,” he said, trying to ignore the pain of you cleaning out a cut he’d gotten above his eyebrow.

You nodded, trying to keep your excitement levels down, “I know,” you leaned back to get a better look at his whole face, “How are you feeling about that?”

He nodded, “’S better than him staying in fuckin’ prison.”

You chuckled, “That’s true,” you paused, knowing that there was a lot more going through his mind about it, “You talk to the club about everything?”

He cringed as you swabbed the gash with medical alcohol, “Yea.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly, “You fuckin’ know,” he let you cup his chin to hold his head still as you pressed a bandage onto his cut, “He’s meant for more than this shit. I don’t get why he wants to come back to Santo Padre at all, let alone get tied down with the fuckin’ club.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly, “It seems to work well for you.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, “Don’t say that like EZ and I are capable of the same things, querida. You’re smarter than that.”

You sighed, leaning back and resting your hands in your lap, “Your cut should be fine. If it starts oozing anything you can sue me for malpractice,” you let the EZ topic drop, knowing it was a bit of an exposed nerve and probably would be for some time.

He chuckled, “Thanks. I’ll have my people get in touch with your people,” he stood up, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head before heading to the kitchen to pull something together for dinner.

The days dragged on as you waited for EZ to come home. Once there was a definitive end-date to his stint in Stockton, time seemed to move slower. You’d been spending more time around the clubhouse in general, but you knew that if both Angel and EZ were going to get involved with the club, you were going to need to get comfortable with all of it. You knew that you weren’t going to get to be in the know about everything, but you didn’t want to be a stranger either, or just “that girl who is always hanging out with the Reyes brothers”. The guys really didn’t seem to mind. You all got along well enough, and having the endorsement of being a close friend of Angel’s certainly didn’t hurt. It was a relief, and you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to know that you had a team of backup if something ever got that bad. Angel would go to the end of the earth for you, but having a small army never hurt.

You’d been cautiously optimistic about what life was going to be like when EZ was back home again. You loved him and you missed him, but you knew that he wasn’t going to be the same exact person coming back that he was when he went away. No one comes out after that much time the same. But in all of your visits, you could feel that he was still EZ in all the ways that mattered. He was just going to need time to adjust, to figure things out, to get his feet back underneath him. And that was exactly what you were there for.

He fell into things rather easily with the club. You knew that Angel was still conflicted about it, but there was no going back on it now. EZ was officially a prospect and Angel was officially his sponsor. No amount of deep sighs and eye rolls was going to undo that. The club was accepting of him, but they were still vetting him thoroughly. You couldn’t necessarily blame them, but you knew who EZ was and it made you a little biased.

EZ was open with you about what he was going through, and you were glad that the two of you hadn’t lost that over the years. He needed some consistency, some kind of anchor in the midst of all of the chaos, which was a role that you were more than happy to fill.

Late nights at Angel’s apartment started to give way to late nights at EZ’s trailer. You still saw the both of them a lot, one of the benefits of hanging out at the clubhouse whenever you could. But you knew that EZ needed some extra one-one-one time and you weren’t going to rob him of that because you had gone and let yourself fall in love with his brother.

You figured that Angel would be glad that EZ had someone in his corner. You knew that things were a little tense between them sometimes because of the club and you didn’t have any of that baggage to carry. You assumed that Angel would be happy to know that his little brother was being cared for by someone who really knew him and gave a shit about him. But it didn’t really feel that way.

EZ was on the opposite side of the bar from you, stacking the last few cases of beer that had gotten delivered that day. The two of you were laughing as you told him about some of the stupidity that was going on at your job. The laughter was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both turned to see Angel standing there, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Pres needs you in Templo for a few minutes, Prospect.”

EZ nodded, wiping his hands off on his jeans, “Alright,” he walked around to the other side of the bar, giving your shoulder a nudge as he walked past you, “Don’t let anyone rob the joint while I’m in there.”

You laughed and shoved him towards the sliding glass door, “Hope they’re not kicking you out.” Despite the fact that EZ was making his way to the room, Angel lingered back for a moment. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to say something to you, “All good?”

He shrugged, nodding, “All good,” the expression on his face said otherwise but you didn’t get to push it as he turned and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

You were still there when the meeting was over, not that it took very long. Everyone dispersed in their own directions. Angel flagged his brother down, saying something quietly into his ear, eyes only darting over to you for a moment before he clapped EZ on the back and walked out of the clubhouse without coming over to say anything to you. EZ walked over, unaware of everything you were noticing and feeling.

He plopped down on the stool next to you, “Movie night?”

You nodded, smiling, “Absolutely.”

About halfway through the movie your mind was somewhere else entirely. Before you were able to censor yourself, you blurted out, “Is Angel mad at me?”

EZ looked over at you, clearly confused. He paused the movie, “Mad at you?”

You nodded, “Yea. He’s barely been talking to me the past couple of weeks and when he does it just feels…different.”

EZ shrugged, “If he is, he hasn’t said anything to me. I doubt it’s that, though. He’s been stressed with all the shit going on with the club lately. He might just accidentally be taking it out on you.”

You gnawed at the inside of your lip, wanting to believe him but not quite sure that you did, “Yea, probably.”

The next few days went by and it was more of the same. You felt like you were trying to drag a conversation out of Angel and he was coming up with excuse after excuse to dodge you. You tried not to let it get to you, but it was difficult. After everything, he was icing you out. And even despite that, your heart still sped up every time you saw him, hoping that he would walk over and things would go back to how they’d been for the last few years.

So you found yourself outside the door to Angel’s house. You knocked on the door for the first time in years—you never used to feel like you had to. But now everything felt off and you didn’t feel quite as welcome as you did before.

A few moments later you heard a scuffling from the other side of the door before it opened. Angel was in his jeans and a tank top, hair a mess, and your heart skipped a couple beats in your chest. You cleared your throat, “Can I come in?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything as he moved to the side so you could walk inside. You toed off your shoes and part of you wanted to plop down on the couch the same way you had so many times before, but you fought the urge. You did notice, though, that there was still the small pile of blankets and pillows taking up one end of the couch. It gave you a small sliver of hope.

“What’s going on?” Angel asked, standing in front of you in the middle of his living room.

“I just came over to talk…to see how you’re doing.”

“Oh?” he scoffed, shaking his head, “No pressing plans with Boy Scout tonight?”

“What’s your fucking problem?” your words were angry but the look in your eyes was anything but—everything just hurt.

“You just use me to pass the time till he got back out?” he looked like he was on the brink of tears, “Just come over here to fill the Reyes void until the Golden Boy was back?”

“Angel, what are you talking about?”

“You! Us!” he snapped. The word us hit you like a punch to the gut. You couldn’t force out any words, so Angel continued, “You spend all this time comin’ over here, making me think that you actually give a shit about me, makin’ me fa—” he stopped himself, shaking his head, “Then you just fucking drop me. It’s like I don’t even exist anymore.”

“Angel,” there was a slight tremor to your voice, “your brother just got out of prison. Figured he might need a little extra support for a while. Why is that putting such a bug up your ass?” you saw him go to say something but you held your hand up to stop him, “And just so we’re painting the full fucking picture here—you’ve been dodging me. Every time I try to talk to you, you suddenly have something else to do, somewhere else to be. This is the first real conversation we’ve had in weeks and it’s only happening because I came banging on your fucking door,” you wiped away tears that you hadn’t even felt before that moment, “Sorry you haven’t gotten my undivided attention, but that’s just life sometimes, Angel. And, fuck,” you shook your head, “even though you’ve been acting like a real dick lately, I’ve still missed you.”

“I’m so fucking sick of coming in second place, Y/N.”

You stepped to him, looking up at him, “You’re not in second place. There are no places. That’s all up here,” you reached up and pressed the pad of your finger to his temple.

He gently placed his hand over yours, completely enveloping it, “I can’t handle you getting sick of me, forgetting about me,” his eyes met yours, “I don’t wanna lose you.”

You felt a lump forming in the back of your throat, “Then why are you shutting me out?”

He shook his head slightly, hand still clasping yours, “Easier leaving than getting left.”

“I was never leaving you, Angel,” your voice was barely a whisper, “And I’m not going to.”

He closed his eyes, leaning down so his forehead against yours. He took a deep, unsteady breath, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you.”

You smiled, bringing your other hand up so you were cupping both sides of his face as you pulled back a little, “You’ve got a really shitty way of showing it.”

He laughed, shaking his head before pressing a kiss against your palm, “Will you let me show it in a better way?”

Your heart was pounding inside your chest as you nodded. He instantly pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours. One hand fell to the small of your back while the other rested on the back of your neck, keeping you as close to him as he could. Your knees felt weak as you melted into him.

He pressed the tips of his fingers harder into the back of your neck and you could feel the neediness seeping from his body into yours. You draped your arms over his shoulders, getting lost in the feeling of the way his lips moved in-sync with yours. A soft moan slipped out as he bit down on your lip.

He pulled his lips away from yours, letting you both catch your breath. He still had you wrapped up in his arms and you smiled, placing a gentle kiss on his jawline, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you too.”

With a quiet laugh he scooped you up off the floor, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. With what seemed like no effort at all, he whisked you down the hall to his bedroom. You laughed as he let you drop a few inches from his arms onto the mattress, a smile on his face as he situated himself between your legs, hovering over your torso with his lips hardly an inch from yours.

“You mean it?” you asked in a whisper as you reached up and pushed his hair back out of his face.

“Mean what?”

“That you’ve been falling in love with me.”

He nodded, his voice as soft as yours, “Every word,” he leaned down and kissed your temple before bringing his lips right next to your ear, “I just wanna make you mine.”

Your body trembled at the sound of his words. You let your eyes drift shut as what he said washed over you. “Do it,” your voice was hardly audible, “Make me yours.”

You felt him hum in approval, the vibrations against your neck sending a chill through your body. He attached his lips to yours, cupping one side of your face in his hand. You hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you, and you felt him smile into your kiss. He pressed his lips hard against yours for a moment before he slid them down to your neck. His hands slid down your sides, resting on your hips as he bit down onto your neck. You moaned as he sucked on the sensitive skin there. He brought his lips to the other side of your neck to do the same thing as he pushed your hips down to the bed, effectively unhooking your legs as his hands started to undo the button and zipper of your jeans.

He pulled your jeans down, tossing them off to the side before hopping off the bed just long enough to undo his belt and push his jeans down to the floor. Once the denim pooled at his ankles he stepped out of them and was right back on top of you again, pulling your shirt off over your head as you reached and did the same to him.

He kissed you as his hands roamed all over your body, touching every exposed inch, every single curve. His tongue met yours as he gripped tight onto your hips. You moaned as he began to grind against you. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your head as he pulled out of your kiss, sucking lightly on your bottom lip as he did.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he kissed you lightly on the lips as his fingers looped around the waistband of your underwear, slowly sliding them down your legs.

He left a long trail of kisses and love-bites down your chest, stomach, and thighs. He draped your legs over his shoulders and you let out a shaky breath as he grazed his teeth along the inside of your thigh, biting down ever-so lightly before moving his lips between your legs. A moan fell from your lips the second he pressed his mouth against you, your hands instantly tangling themselves in his hair. You felt the vibrations against you as he chuckled at how quickly you became so needy. Every single thing he did felt perfect. The sound of you moaning his name filled the house as his tongue continued to explore every part of you.

He pulled his lips away from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He smiled up at you as he slowly slid his fingers into you, turning your whimper into a moan. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders, nails setting into his skin as you cursed under your breath. He kept his eyes on you as he slowly began to pump his fingers in and out of you, reveling in the fact that he was the one marking you up and putting that look of pure bliss onto your face.

You arched your back slightly when you felt him bite down onto your thigh, “Fuck, Angel, don’t stop.”

His voice was raspy, “You gonna cum for me, querida?”

“Y-yes,” you almost didn’t get the word out as you felt his mouth begin to work along with his fingers. Your legs tightened around his head, thighs clenching as you got closer to your orgasm, “Fuck, Angel,” you cried as you came.

He slid up to you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Your fingers trailed through his beard, feeling your wetness as he leaned in to kiss you. You could taste yourself off of his lips and tongue and you were about to get lost in that sensation alone until you felt him pressing against your entrance. You rested your hands on his hips and pulled him closer to you, both of you moaning as he slowly slid into you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, soaking up how he felt inside you.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered as he slowly started to move his hips, “You’re so perfect for me.”

You knew there was no way to be closer to him than you were, but you wished that there was. You wrapped your legs around him again and cupped his face so you could kiss him as he thrust into you. He braced his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in as he leaned into you. you slid your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him down against you as you sank your teeth into the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

You heard him curse and you smiled as you placed a kiss on top of the bitemark, “You’re mine now, too, Angel.”

He pulled away from you so he could look you in the eyes, “Say that again.”

You gently traced the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip, “You’re mine, Angel Reyes.”

His lips crashed into yours as he picked up his speed. He couldn’t get enough of you, hands grabbing at whatever they could to try and keep you closer to him. You felt his rhythm start to falter—he gripped tightly onto your hips as he thrust hard into you a few more times before quickly pulling out of you before he came.

He collapsed onto your chest with a sigh. You let out a tired laugh as you lazily trailed your fingers through his hair, both of you attempting to catch your breath and get your hearts down to a reasonable speed. You could feel the reverberations of his chest against yours and in that moment you were sure that there no better feeling in the world. His fingers lightly traced over your skin and all you could think about was the fact that his touch felt like home. You let your eyes drift shut for a few moments as he peppered your neck and shoulders with soft kisses.

He shifted so he was laying on his side next to you, staring at you with a starry look in his eyes. You smiled over at him, rolling onto your side as well, “What’re you thinking?”

He smiled, kissing you gently on the lips, “That I love you.”

You felt your face get hot as you touched your forehead to his, “Yea? Good. ‘Cause I love you too.”

He laughed as he rolled and pulled you with him so that you were laying on top of him, your chest pressed against his, “No going back on that now, you know.”

You let your fingers dance down the side of his face, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[aminiatureworld]

Honesty

Characters: Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,830

Warnings: None

Premise: Some habits just turn bad over time, and not matter how much we try they can be terribly difficult to stop.

In which Kaeya keeps to himself.

Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon! I thank you once more, and I hope that this was as you envisioned it. Also didn’t expect this to be so incredibly long but I hope that’s not unwelcome!

Kaeya is one of my favorite characters to write, but I also find him one of the hardest as well. He’s very good at slipping through your grasp, and it can be hard to convey such an outwardly complex and flirtatious character without making him a cardboard cutout. But it’s also incredibly gratifying when you think you’ve done it well. I hope this is one of the times.

Non bulleted pointed version on Ao3

It wasn’t that Kaeya wasn’t used to attention. It was simply that he wasn’t used to your attention.

I mean Kaeya was hardly the most innocent man in Monstadt; almost everyone spoke of the handsome and slightly ill-behaved cavalry captain. Kaeya certainly did nothing to discourage the talk, or the flirting, not when it was so fun. It felt good to be looked at for reasons, well if not positive at least they weren’t in the same league as the notoriety he’d picked up otherwise. Disapproving citizens were certainly better than a disapproving brother, especially since said brother had a habit of parroting Kaeya’s darkest thoughts.

Of course Kaeya wasn’t looking for anything when it came to said flirtations. Not only because the appeal was never there, at least not in any legitimate sense, but because Kaeya secretly felt he was a bit of a burden, something he’d never even admit to himself. And no one wanted a partner with emotional baggage. If there was anything Kaeya was quite sure of it was that. And he hadn’t the time, nor really the ability, to fix all his problems, if he wasn’t permanently broken already. Better to keep away from any firm attachments, one that might ruin the lives of those around him.

This admittedly terrible conclusion was all perfectly fine in theory, but then you’d arrived and it’d all fallen to the wayside.

You were perfection to Kaeya, in more ways than he could count. He loved your smile, as well as the various other expressions you pulled, whether snarky or appalled or excited; he loved the way you laughed, even when you complained it sounded vaguely seal like at some points and like you were dying at others; he loved your every mood and whim, no matter how silly or reckless. He loved when you had a temper and when you showed more restraint than he did, he loved when you acted like a character you’d just read about and he loved when you later got embarrassed by it and begged him to forget it. The list went on and on and on, so many things did he love about you. Most of all he loved that you never seemed in a hurry, not that any of the others had, but the boundaries had shifted quite a bit this time.

So what had begun not so much as flirtation but as awkward friendship blossomed into something more, and Kaeya knew it. Not that there was any proper confirmation, but really was there a need? He told himself that the idea was ridiculous, no need to make things official. Besides, it wasn’t as if Kaeya had changed much at all. Indeed he’d done quite the opposite, determined not to let things shift in the way you two interacted.

Of course he’d excused his actions. After all, though the knight had many contradictory opinions of himself, of his actions, of his past, but they tended towards the negative. He was evil, he was cruel, a shameless opportunist and a failure even in that. Most importantly, in regards to the matter at hand, Kaeya tended to think that he was in no position to enjoy a proper and serious relationship; it wasn’t in him. He’d only bring disaster upon his head and upon the heads of those he loved. How could he let it happen?

That were what he told himself, what again and again he drilled it into his mind. And he ignored the small part of him that told himself it wasn’t any of that, the part which jeered that, if he were altogether truthful, the reason for a lack of meaningful reciprocation ultimately lay in the overwhelming fear he kept buried deep within himself. The fear of telling others about himself. About his actions, his opinions, his morality. The unpolished and deeply irritating bits that even Kaeya couldn’t stand.

But that was buried under too many layers of denial to play into what he was doing, and Kaeya had thoroughly convinced himself that his actions were for the good of everyone, yourself included. So the charade continue, with you saying more and more and Kaeya saying altogether nothing of consequence at all.

“Kaeya, what do you think of me?” You asked one day. It was a summer afternoon, the lazy kind, when all seemed static and half asleep. Kaeya was one of those things, and jolted to full wakefulness, surprised and ill at ease by the sudden question. You didn’t look at all upset, though maybe a bit bashful. The blush that dusted your cheeks and nose was the cutest thing, and if he weren’t so utterly afraid Kaeya might’ve wanted to tease you a bit, and see said blush grow a little bit deeper.

“What do you mean? You’re my fine adventuring friend.” He said, trying to relax once more, hoping the initial jolt of shock hadn’t been evident. It was hard to keep alert at all times around you, especially in what had just been such a relaxing atmosphere. But he had to keep calm and steady, suave as always. Who knows what might happen if not?

“Well I’m glad to hear that,” you began, cadence becoming a little slower, “I’m very glad to hear that. But, well, I was sort of wondering… if it might be a bit… different than that.”

“Is this a sudden confession?” Kaeya asked, tone light and playful.

“No!” You blurted out, gaze dropping. You started tearing at the grass slightly, but the action didn’t worry Kaeya too much. If it wasn’t a confession then it’d be easy enough to sneak out of, and then you two might go back to enjoying the afternoon as usual.

“It’s just…” you continued, staring intently at the ground “it’s just that I want to know. I mean I’m sure it’s obvious how much I care about you, well and truly care about you. You’re my closest friend Kaeya, but you’re also more than that. You’re my confidante, the first person I go to talk to about, well, anything. I said this wasn’t a confession, and it isn’t. But I want to know where we are. And I want you to be honest, what do you think of me?”

You lifted your head up, gaze piercing through Kaeya’s soul. He felt nothing in that moment but terror, the feeling of the ground suddenly giving way below him. What was he to say? What could he say? What did he think of you, the question seemed so simple but Kaeya found he couldn’t answer it, not truthfully. What you meant to him, well you meant almost everything. Kaeya loved you, loved you so much. He wanted to tell you everything about him, wanted to learn everything about you. He wanted to hold you in his arms and listen forever to your voice, to the things you had to say. He wanted to bask in your presence, to drown in it. He loved you, and he knew you loved him too; but it wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t tell you what he wanted to say, what you wanted to hear. It was for your own good, and, Kaeya was realizing very quickly, the idea of doing so, of confessing himself, of laying his soul bare, was something so utterly and completely frightening.

“Like I said you’re my dear adventuring friend.” Kaeya managed to get out, hoping there was no streak of falsehood in his voice. Picking up some of the torn up grass he scattered it onto your head, causing a groan of annoyance. Laughing at his childishness Kaeya steered the conversation towards another topic, hoping the former one would never come up again.

It didn’t, but Kaeya still sensed a change. It was gradual enough, indeed it was so gradual he hardly noticed at first. But eventually the change became too great, and Kaeya felt a distinct sinking sensation the first time he’d passed you on the streets on Monstadt and you’d done little more than smile, instead of running up like you usually did to ask him where he was going and tease him about missing work, sure that he was up to no good.

The initial realization having passed a bunch of little things came to the sudden forefront of Kaeya’s mind. Come to think of it you two never met outside of work anymore; gone were the days it seemed when you two would go for a walk after having sandwiches together, both complaining about the others work and wondering when you might ever have a break.

Gone too was the familiarity in some ways. When you two spoke now there was a formality, a distance that seemed to have popped up. You no longer asked Kaeya about his brother, and in return he stopped asking you about your own family, uneasy by the sudden loss of intimacy, and unwilling to be the one to break the barrier.

As the weeks passed by and you grew more and more distant Kaeya grew more and more frantic. He found himself thinking incessantly about you, about what you were doing, where you were going, whether or not you’d ever smile at him the way you used to, if you’d blush again at his teasing. A small piece of him knew that it was his own fault, and knew that it somehow connected back to the conversation you two had had in the summertime. But self-awareness doesn’t always mean change, and Kaeya still refused to do anything about it.

Then he started dreaming about you. He wasn’t sure why, you two saw each other less and less, and there was no reason for him to suddenly start these dreams, but somehow it’d happen. The dreams were mundane, painfully so. They were much like any other dream in content; the only difference being your presence. You were as before in his dreams, as if he’d somehow been able to rewind the clock, but only in his sleep. The two of you did this and that. You saved reckless Pallad, you rode Dvalin with the Traveller, you ran around the Winery, stealing glasses when no one was looking. Always you two were off, doing something completely normal, and always did Kaeya feel such joy that waking up felt rather like torture. He began to dread it, meeting you in his dreams. It felt painful, so very painful, as if he were betraying himself, as if he were betraying you too in some way. He shouldn’t’ve been dreaming of you, and yet he kept right at it, as if his mind were somehow unable to let go.

After three weeks of not seeing you Kaeya relented. He couldn’t go on like this, not one more moment. His work was becoming sloppier and sloppier, and he felt as if he hadn’t slept in years. He’d woken up in the middle of the night, so wretched from the whole situation that he felt like crying out of frustration. In the dark there was no one to pretend to, and he found himself staring at the curtained window, suddenly hit with his utter selfishness. He loved you, he loved you and you loved him, at least you had. And he’d thrown it all away, not out of any kindness or nobility, but out of his own fear, his own inability to be honest for even a moment. It was his fault that this was all happening, and as such he had to make amends.

He found himself at what had been your normal after-work meeting spot, leaning against a squat sort of maple tree. It was the perfect meeting place, far enough from the city to be picturesque, but close enough not to be a trip. Now Kaeya waited, praying to Barbatos that you might, by some miracle, appear.

Evidently the Anemo Archon was in a somewhat favorable mood, that or Kaeya was simply lucky, for he spotted you about fifteen minutes later, walking leisurely towards the tree. You weren’t truly paying attention to your destination, instead glancing in the direction of Cider Lake, expression slightly clouded. Turning your head you stopped dead in your tracks, shaking your head slightly, as if you truly couldn’t believe the sight in front of you.

“I…have something to say.” Kaeya began, not altogether sure what that was. Once he’d come to the conclusion that he was the source of the whole problem it became evident that the only was to solve such a thing was through honesty. But it had been so long since Kaeya had been honest, really truly honest, and he now felt awkward and slightly shaky, as if learning to walk all over again.

“What is it?” Your tone, though surprised, held no hostility in it, instead it seemed vaguely curious. The thought gave Kaeya a bit of strength, and he drew himself up a little more, determined to see this through no matter what.

“I want to apologize for how I’ve treated you. I haven’t… haven’t been honest. I think you realized that, indeed I think you realized it long before I did. But, now that I’ve realized it I want to say I’m so deeply sorry.” He paused for a moment, not sure how to continue on. “Do you remember when you asked me what I thought of you?” He finally asked.

“Of course I do.” You smiled slightly, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “You said I was your friend.”

“Well I was lying.” Kaeya’s voice was blunt, the flirtatious tone that he usually put on nowhere to be found. “In truth you mean so much to me, so much more than I could put into words. You said that you weren’t making a confession, but I am. I like you, no, I love you. You mean more to me than everything, than my past, than my work as a knight, than my shame I carry in regards to my brother. Being around you is like soaking in the sun, or gazing at the moon, and I took it for granted. I took your entire presence for granted, and I understand why you felt the need to distance yourself. Our friendship was built on dishonesty, all because I was afraid. I am afraid still, so very afraid, but I find what I fear more than telling you all of this is never having the opportunity to. You’d don’t have to reciprocate, don’t have to approve of anything I just said. But if there’s any little bit of you that felt as you did this summer I want to apologize to it, and tell you I feel the same.”

The silence was deafening, oppressive. For once Kaeya found he couldn’t keep your gaze; his entire affect, his personality, it was all gone, and what was left was raw and badly kept. Shifting his gaze towards the lake he held his breath and waited for your answer.

He felt your fingers glance his. Snapping his head towards where you were he searched your face for something that might reveal what you were thinking, but you quickly looked at the ground.

“Thank you.” Your voice was no more than a whisper, but to Kaeya it was a lifeline, the fact that he was able to hear your voice once more. “Thank you for being honest.” You slipped your hand into his. “And to answer your unsaid question, I do feel the same way I did when I asked you before. And this too is now a confession, or rather an assent. I love you Kaeya, I’ve never stopped loving you. And though I may still feel a bit hurt by your lack of honesty then, I only ask you this,” you finally moved to look him in the eyes, your gaze misted over by hope and joy and a hint of sorrow, “will you be honest with me now?”

“Until the day I die.” Kaeya breathed out.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You replied, dropping his hand and flinging your arms around his neck.

Kaeya immediately wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “Thank you” he whispered, over and over again. The fear that had once filled his mind was no more, instead he felt as if he were floating, kept tethered to reality only by your embrace. He was relieved, but more so he was happy, so unbelievably happy. You’d given him a chance he’d never give himself; you’d opened your life back up to him, and now you two might never have to be separated again, not truly anyways.

 “Want to know something?” Kaeya asked, tone playful, as you two walked back to Monstadt, hands linked.”

“What?” You asked, slightly curious. Kaeya smiled, before leaning over and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you.” He whispered against your skin. And he meant it. With his whole heart he meant it.