#there's something so Warm about the initial recounting

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Fix Your Problems, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Y/N needs to vent, but Rafe needs to solve her issues.

Masterlist

Girls know that when another girl comes to them with a problem, it is just to vent about the issue that they have. Boys. Well, boys like to go to each other for solutions and Rafe isn’t innocent of that mentality. Before Y/N, Rafe hadn’t been in a relationship, so he didn’t have a chance to learn that women just need an outlet to voice their frustration. And he is about to be taught that lesson. He waits for her at the coffee shop with a mug of coffee in his hand and a hot chocolate across from him for her. His fingers tap along the ceramic mug. He looks out the window to see if he can spot her arrival. This is the first time that they are going to be seeing each other in person after returning to campus from the holiday break and he anticipates seeing her again. He wants to see all the gifts she got this Christmas and she is excited to show him. He spots the pompom of her pastel green hat that he sent over to her for Christmas. A massive grin grows on his face and he knows the bell sounding announces her entrance. As she slides into the booth across from him, she leans over the table to kiss him on the lips. “Hey, Rafe. How are you?” she greets. 

He can see something is wrong. There is a slight furrow of her brow and a slight dip of her lip that she is trying to hide. He plays along with her pleasantries for now, “I’m good now that I get to see you, Angel. How was your Christmas?” “It was good. I got to spend time with my family. I was also pleasantly surprised with how many gifts I woke up to on Christmas morning. Some handsome fella even gave me this pretty bracelet with his initials on it. I think I might keep it and him around,” she recounts, holding out her wrist for him to see. He takes her arm into his hand, “Wow. That handsome fella must really be special if you are wearing this even though you have only been dating him for around four months.” “Yeah, I guess you can say that I love him,” she teases and kisses him. “Thank you for the gifts, Rafe. I just wish you told me we were also sending each other stuff because I hate the thought of you not getting anything from me on Christmas.”

His warm hand cups her cheek and his thumb brushes reassuringly against her skin. “Don’t worry about it, Angel. You gave me my gift before we left for break. Plus, getting that FaceTime call from you on Christmas day was my gift,” he promises. She kisses his wrist and this thumb goes to trace the slope of her lips. He can’t be in the dark about her sadness anymore. “What’s wrong, my angel? Why do you seem so sad?” he questions. She shrugs, “Nothing, I’m fine.” “Please, don’t lie to me. I can see something is wrong,” he pleads to her. She sighs, “It’s stupid, but Stacey is having a back-to-school get-together this weekend and she didn’t invite me. I guess I feel a little left out.” “That’s not very nice of her. Have you tried telling her how you feel?” he suggests. She shakes her head, “No. Do you know how embarrassing it would be to run to her like a little schoolgirl and tell her she hurt my feelings?” Rafe understands what she is saying and slides in on her side of the booth. He rests her head on his chest, vowing to help her with her problem. 

———

Rafe knocks on Stacey’s door and puts his hands behind his back. She opens the door with a slight frown at who is waiting for her. “Uh, Rafe. What are you doing here? Is everything okay with Y/N?” she worries, knowing that Rafe only cares about one person. Rafe’s head moves from side to side, “Actually, she isn’t okay. You didn’t invite her to your get-together this weekend.” Stacey nods and cracks her knuckles nervously. “I did not. Because, you see, Y/N and I aren’t really that close of friends and this party is for girls that I am really close to,” Stacey tries to explain. Her mouth shuts when she sees that is not the answer Rafe is looking for. He chuckles, “Obviously, she feels close enough to you that she feels left out by what you did.” He pauses to see if Stacey has anything to add to her defence. She doesn’t. “You know what I want you to do, correct?” Her head hinges up and down, “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry that I hurt Y/N’s feelings.” “Good, I’m glad we can come to a conclusion. I’ll see you later,” he grins and heads back home. 

———

Y/N doesn’t bother to knock. She uses his passcode to storm into his room and finds him on his bed. He sits up right at the sight of her. “Is everything okay, Angel? You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” he frets, rushing to her side. Her arms cross over each other, “You forced Stacey to invite me to her party.” “I did. You said you felt left out that you weren’t invited,” he states. He places his hands above her elbows. She lets out a low laugh, “Why would you do that?” 

“Because you had a problem and you needed help fixing it.”

“Rafe, most of the time, when I come to you with my problems, I don’t want you to fix them. I just want you to listen and agree that I am in the right.”

“Why can’t I fix your problems if I have the solution? Come on, let me fix your problems, Angel.” 

“Sometimes girls just want someone to vent to. Plus, I don’t even like Stacey so the last thing I want to do is go to her party, but now, I have to go because you made a point of getting her to invite me,” she complains. He chuckles and pulls her into a hug, “Okay, I’ll take that venting thing into account for next time. Angel, if you didn’t want to go to the party, then why did it bother you so much?” “Because I wanted to be able to turn her down,” she mumbles, burying her face into his neck. He lets out an amused breath, “I see. Well, I’m sorry that I ruined your ability to reject her. If you want, I can call you with an emergency half an hour into the party so you can leave early.” Y/N pulls back to look him in the eyes. “That is the least you can do. You are getting me sushi too,” she orders. “Sounds fair. I’ll do whatever you want, Angel.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

[desafinado]

Damnn i like s/o wife hcs so much can you do the same to zhongli and diluc👉🏻👈🏻 also hope you have nice day

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 happily ever afters (?)

°｡⋆ zhongli, diluc, kazuha x reader (separately)

°｡⋆ suggestive like literally the word, sickening fluff once again

note: ofc, and thank you, hope your days are well too. added kazuha bc while i’m here, might as well… i'm glad y'all like the first one, and if there’s anyone else you’d like to see, don’t hesitate to leave an ask!! also... depending on whether i got the courage to post it alr, a 50 followers celebration is coming up, (its here!!) so feel free to join in ^^

(alhaitham, ayato) | (zhongli, diluc, kazuha)

zhongli ♡

all his years on teyvat, and you’d think he’d get used to all of the beauty it has to offer… but you still catch him off guard when you boop his nose first thing in the morning.

though he couldn’t have asked for a better way to wake up, it gives him the perfect excuse to shower you with kisses.

i feel like he’d easily slip into the so called “married life” as well as being the perfect husband (or as i like to say, malewife)

he cooks, he cleans, he makes you feel all warm inside…

he even visits during work, or vice-versa. you both have lunch with whatever he had initially packed just for you (you insist for him to join you).

on the less busy days, you both might even go for a walk by liyue harbor, taking in the stunning view of the ocean amidst the work on the docks

another spot you both would frequent is the path to the golden house, which might be a harder trek, but the views of the mountains as well as the history scattered around is very much worth it.

early on in your relationship, he already took note of your affection for certain dishes, so now he knows which ones to cook when you come home feeling celebratory, fatigued, frustrated, or just sad.

he lulls you to sleep (cuddled together ofc) with some old liyue tales and folklore, forehead kisses every now and then.

expect a lot of road trips along liyue or even to other nations. he wants to experience teyvat, now that he isn’t very preoccupied being an archon, and he wants to experience it with you.

even if it's just for a weekend, he makes sure that it’s something you’ll both treasure.

while on these trips, your favorite pastime is just taking candid pictures of him; they either turn out absolutely stunning and jaw dropping…or just plain goofy

“hehehe…” “what are you giggling about, my love?… oh. wonderful picture nonetheless ,my darling, though i apologize you caught me at a bad moment.”

you sighing at him in content, as he recounts his own experiences about the location you’re both visiting.

since, he’s always recounting to you his experiences in the past, you make it a point to introduce to all the newer advances in the world… whether it be technology or gastronomical breakthroughs

“so you’re saying… they put a whole dango in this milk? and people drink it? that doesn’t sound very…” “healthy? yup, but the raiden shogun herself approves of it so…”

though it might not suit his tastes or its emergence into culture, he’s happy trying whatever you have to offer him.

you’ll also tell him the history and cultures from your own homeland! he’s gets very excited about it, because he’s always up for learning something new, especially when it’s something near and dear to you.

he just wants to spend as much time as he can with you; he of all people knows how short human life can be. he’s willing to spend it making sure you’ve lived a good one.

he’s been more silent than usual; you’ve been talking for a good 20 minutes now. he’d usually ask you questions or share his own insights from your sharing, but he’s been totally silent, only giving nods of affirmation. you pause your ramblings for a moment to check on him.

“dear? you haven’t spoken this entire time, i have to admit it is quite strange.”

he exhales softly, shaking his head.

“does it make you uneasy? i apologize, i was just… captivated by you.”

a blush spreads from your cheek to your entire face; he never did fail at making you feel like a middle-schooler with a crush. you hit his chest playfully, trying to play off your flustered state. he just giggles, admiring you under the golden sunset.

“zhongli!”

“it is only the truth, my love. it seems that everyday my love for you only grows stronger.”

diluc ♡

you’ve never seen lovesick, until you see diluc come home everyday to collapse in your arms.

he’ll often rant about rowdy patrons at the tavern or pompous businessman he had to meet that day, you just try to get him to a better place… or at least you try to.

“he annoyed me to hell, darling. he acted like he owned the place…” “but you do, dear. next time, you should just kick him out. don’t they know they’re keeping you from me?”

his embarrassed state is something he only lets you see… and well, cause. it just baffles him that you'd go to such lengths or say such things to demonstrate your love for him.

when you both have a day off, you both spend it around the estate, enjoying each other’s presence.

reading books in the library, baking a batch of cookies, picking grapes or braiding his hair. he absolutely craves these moments of normalcy, and you’re happy spending it with him.

braiding his hair is especially fun, because it gives you the opportunity to run a hand through his soft locks. you also steal a kiss or two on his neck.

if you two have a day or night out on the town, you can be sure that he might hold your hand a bit tighter or rest an arm around your shoulder the entire time.

it’s not that he’s necessarily jealous, but it's a small reminder for him that whatever he can face, he can face it with you.

so if a certain knight comes along, teasing him, he doesn’t feel at all embarrassed, because his love for you is nothing to be ashamed of.

but back to coming home, it's especially satisfying after spending a day with you. it’s a good kind of tired, the tiredness you’d feel from an overload of serotonin.

if he decides to go on some darknight hero business, you’ll be there to see him off and make sure he’s ready for whatever he might come across.

he’s even discovered a snack bar or two in his coat pocket.

bloody, bruised, or unscathed, you’ll be there to welcome him home. he’s told you to go on and sleep without him, but you’ve refused every time.

the first time he found you, he felt the guilt go straight to his head. you assured him you were fine though, and you’d only feel sorry if he wasn’t the last thing you saw before you slept.

if time and fatigue truly forbids it, you’re sure to find him in morning light, his arms around you.

he never wants you to worry over him… more than you already do.

to him, you’re the only thing worth coming home for, the only reason he’d want to come home in one piece. between all the loud crowds causing him a headache or bloody battles he’s fought, he imagines you waiting for him at the place he knows as home.

“oh my god.”

his voice is deep and almost shaky, seeing you reading a book and sitting at the edge of your shared bed. the sun was set to rise in an hour or so, but here you were, waiting for his arrival. he dropped whatever he was holding, not caring for the loud thump it made; he immediately brought his arms around you, the both of you softly falling to the bed.

“d-did you wait this long for me? you didn’t have to… i’m so-”

“diluc.”

you bring a palm to his cheek, guiding his gaze towards you. your eyes did look sleepy, but a lazy yet bright smile ran across your face.

“it doesn’t matter, my dear. i’m just happy you’re home, here, with me. that’s all that ever matters.”

kazuha ♡

you both compromised on a long distance relationship for the majority of your relationship, but when marriage came up, you knew you couldn’t keep it that way.

rather than him having to come visit you every few months, he gradually stayed longer and longer, until he truly did live in your own home… or well, both your home.

that didn’t stop his wandering ways though, in fact, he had a newfound goal to show you everything he had seen.

expect him to be taking up all your vacation days, planning a thorough and perfectly personalized itinerary.

if time allows it, you’ll even travel for a month or so, just wandering around, before coming back home.

when kazuha came back home, you’d always be there and make him feel at him. he was literally coming back from a long-winded journey after all.

he wanted to do the same for you, so he’d push through his fatigue to take care of you once you both return. he’d run you a bath and make some comfort food to help you relax.

sleeping in until tomorrow afternoon, your bodies lazily entangled with one another. if you even try to get up, he’s quick to pull you back down, encouraging you to rest.

“i’m not that tired anymore…” “hmm, well i still am, very much.” “okay, then let-” “i need you here though, else i’ll never get up.”

you know he’s exaggerating and simply being clingy, but maybe you should indulge him, as well as yourself.

when it’s back to business, you can expect him to be taking care of the house. he’s already decorated it in trophies and memories he’s brought back from his own adventures, but he focuses on showcasing the memories you and him have had.

he’ll also be passing time, writing poems about his life with you, or just you. you are his muse, after all.

the moment you come home, you can expect him to be clinging on to you, as if letting you go would mean that he would lose you.

after one particularly long day (you left without giving him kisses :( rip ), he just carried you in his arms to your shared bedroom. he didn’t let you leave until he showed you just how much he missed you (kisses and cuddles or something more suggestive oh my).

or you know, he’ll just tell you with all the poems he’s thought up while you were gone… maybe even through song, if he’s feeling especially heartstruck.

he realizes how you must’ve felt when he went on those months long journeys, so he’s trying to make up for it now.

he realizes how much he’s been missing you too, all those nights he spent alone feeling like something was missing… it was you.

“that was beautiful, ‘zuha.”

your head is snug against his chest, and your voices are pronounced against the night breeze, river splashing and crickets chirping. the tent kazuha pitched gives you the privacy you two very much deserve.

“the poem? the view? or… could you possibly even be talking about me?”

he smirks at his last suggestion, you can only giggle softly. you snuggle deeper against his touch, trying to etch this moment in your head.

“all of it, beloved. everything about you is beautiful. i…”

he only shakes his head, giggling right back at you. he welcomes your closeness, resting his head on your shoulder.

“all i do, all i see, all i am, they are only possible with you. you, my dear, are the most beautiful soul that i am thankful to be graced with.”

requests are open!! please do not reposts on other sites.

[wooahaes]

just out of reach

pairing: non-idol!ghost!joshua x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort. kinda angst bc reader's also in love with a ghost.

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: reader has a rough day. love that is likely never to be requited.

daisy's notes: google how do i kiss a ghost

“I’m home.” 

You heard nothing as you called out the words upon arriving home. No partner to warmly greet you and steal a kiss before asking about how your day went, or saying that they ordered dinner tonight. No sound of something pawing its way toward you, barking or meowing for attention at long last. No roommate, either, to ask if you’d bought the thing they asked you to since your way home from work took you right by the grocery store you frequented most. Sometimes, you were glad to live alone. You had less to deal with, although you did have to deal with all of your chores entirely on your own. Other times, it left you the way you felt tonight: hollow and mostly alone. No one to bother you and maybe hug you when you opened up about your rough day, but no one who could give you that warm embrace that you craved in your bones. 

So you decided you’d make a mug of hot chocolate the way one of your friends used to. Ever since you moved to the city a few months ago, life was quieter than it had been before. You’d yet to make friends both in and outside of work, yet to have someone you could open up to… But you made it work. You opened up the cabinets, pulling down a box of instant hot chocolate packets when you noticed the lights beginning to dim and flicker.

You took a break, holding it for a moment, eyes squeezing shut. Right. That annoyance. You slowly breathed out, speaking aloud as you reached for one of your favorite mugs, “Stop.”

The lights returned to normal. You moved to the fridge, opening it up to see if you still had leftover whipped cream, maybe milk, too. Barely a second later, the door was pushed into you, bouncing off. 

You shoved it away. “Quit it.” The mug you left on the counter was pulled away. “I fucking mean it—”

Then you felt a cold breath against the back of your neck. You slammed the fridge shut and turned around. “Go away!” 

All of a sudden, he materialized before you. Joshua. The last man who owned this apartment. You didn’t like recounting the gruesome accident that led to his death, but you were ultimately grateful that you knew them now. The landlord had told you that he merely ‘left one night’ and that he ended up having the apartment repainted due to the state it was left in. Rent was cheaper, though, and you needed a place to stay… So that meant you had to live with this roommate you never asked for. He stared at you with wide eyes, and stepped back, watching as you began to go through the routine of making a half-decent mug of hot chocolate. He’d realized you definitely weren’t playing with him the way you usually did, the grumpy one to his playful nature.

“Sorry,” his voice was soft, and it sent a chill down your spine. Ghosts had this weird edge to this voice, distant and cold. You’d grown used to it, but that initial chill never seemed to leave you considering how… alive Joshua felt most days.

You shrugged it off. Despite snapping at him, you knew that he couldn’t have known how badly today treated you. He told you that life was fuzzier. That sometimes he couldn’t see you clearly, just as you couldn’t always see him. Seeing a picture of him helped, in a weird way: like you were able to recognize Joshua, so he stopped feeling so fuzzy around the edges when you perceived him. But you? You weren’t sure if you would ever stop being hard to see. 

Despite him not existing in a physical form, the wood creaked underneath his feet. He stepped into the space next to you as you stood in the kitchen, drinking your hot chocolate. He peered around you, trying to focus a little further on your features, as if that would tell him what he wanted to know. “What happened?”

You shook your head. “Too much.”

He raised a hand, hesitating for a moment before he reached forward. His touch was cold, but you could feel his fingers brush against your cheek, and it soothed you. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

If you shut your eyes, it felt like he was there just a little more. Like he wasn’t dead. Why had you grown so attached to him…? Neither of you knew why he was stuck there, but the two of you developed a strange sense of something. Not quite friendship anymore, although you would call Joshua a ‘friend’ if you had no other words to describe it. It was as though he knew you intimately, learning more about you over time. Part of it came from the way he used to watch you when you first moved in, the rest was everything you’d told him. He’d told you stories from his own life before the incident happened. People he knew were still alive now. You’d met a few of them, actually. You’d taken a letter you’d ‘found’ to Jeonghan with final words that Joshua had written out beside you, focusing hard enough on a pencil to be able to write it himself. You’d met Seungcheol, too, who showed you pictures of Joshua and Jeonghan when the three of them were in school together. He’d had you deliver something to his mother, too, and introduced yourself as a ‘friend’ despite the word never fitting quite correctly in your mouth.

Joshua was dead. “Friend” was all you’d ever be, and yet the way he looked at you felt… different. The way you felt toward him was different, too.

“Tell me about it,” he said gently. “I’m here.”

Right. If nothing else… Joshua would always be right here.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

[oh-saints]

sweetest devotion (pt. 6)

“we’ll figure out the nitty-gritty along the way,” serena once said. but never once did she mention anything about figuring out this alien feeling mason got whenever she was concerned.

playboy!mason x princess!OC wc: 2.2k tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only, but particularly extramarital affair to a marriage of convenience for this particular chapter note: i'm sorry this chapter doesn't contain spoilers as i've mentioned in the previous one. things changed as i was writing this down but i hope you like this one the same! <3 but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so this is not beta-read yet. tags: @pingyu-in-wonderland @ironmaiden1313 @myreveriie @808heartz <3 (lmk if you wanna be added!) < part 5 - part 7 > sweetest devotion masterlist

“please let me know—”

mason was pacing back and forth, making sure everything was within his sister’s sight, especially serena’s meds, so when serena woke up, jasmine would be able to reach them without difficulty, considering her growing stomach.

“mason tony mount,” and the called man halted his steps. “stop moving this instance.”

the youngest of four didn’t have much choice other than to follow the instruction. the last time jasmine announced his full name, he was called out for having a mistress. whom, ironically at that time, he’d gladly choose over serena, and look where the blind devotion had gotten him into.

“you moving around doesn’t help my nausea so dear god, please help this bloody pregnant woman and stop moving,” jasmine sat down on the nearest sofa, huffing out her palpable frustration. “I know the drill of being caretaker, okay? now go,”

right, the sole reason of mason calling jasmine for help.

he could be walking away freely like he wasn’t accountable, because serena being admitted to the hospital wasn’t his wrongdoing anyway. but ask anyone in the nurse station and they’d gush over how much of a good husband mason mount was.

you could barely find him outside of serena’s room, except to go to the training ground or fetching his own portion of food, and he’d always drop something by on the nurse station’s desk whenever he came back from them. and whenever it was time for a nurse or doctor’s visit, they’d find the husband recounting what happened at work to the wife, who’d listen attentively and respond accordingly. he’d take her for a stroll to the garden at the back of the hospital before the sun set too, as per the doctor’s recommendation, complete with jackets and warm drinks sat underneath the wheelchair.

but no matter how much he played the dutiful husband the past days, he was still an active footballer by the end of the day. going for an away match was inevitable, thus the reason why his sister was in the hospital now.

jasmine didn’t know the reason why, and mason hadn’t bothered to say anything else other than “serena hasn’t been feeling well”. technically he wasn’t lying, but one look at the nasty blue marks on serena’s cheeks was more than enough of an explanation for jasmine. certainly it wasn’t mason because his brother didn’t have it in him to hit a dangerous animal, let alone a woman, but the older mount wasn’t expecting an answer until either serena or mason was ready to give her one.

what happens in one’s household should stay inside, they say.

“text me if something—”

“happens, yes, I know, mase,” jasmine clicked her tongue as she rolled her eyes, obviously in annoyance. “I thought you didn’t care about serena?”

right, the sole reason of mason calling jasmine for help.

aside from his initial worry, he thought jasmine would be the safest option to ask for help because, by far, she was the only one who knew about his extramarital affair—or at least, who admitted to mason that she knew about it and voiced her honest opinion on the matter.

yet, she hadn’t said anything since then and his entire family hadn’t cut off his ears by berating him, so surely jasmine also hadn’t spilled a thing to the rest of his kin. it was within his intuition to trust serena’s life in her hands while he was away because surely jasmine wouldn’t drop anything that could possibly worsen serena’s condition, especially anything in relation to elena.

if anything, jasmine was the first person mason should apologise to—other than serena, of course—because he hadn’t been listening well. he remembered clearly, much to his own dismay, of his annoyance when jasmine particularly called him out about elena, only for him to accuse her of being unsupportive sister when she was anything but.

“oh shit,” the silence mason entertained was enough of a reason for jasmine to sit up, now fully interested at the turn of events. “what changes?”

“please, no more foul language around my little niece,” mason sighed. from a third point of view, it was a deep breath let out to emphasis one’s frustration. but jasmine knew better, she knew her brother. “why are you smiling?”

“nothing,” jasmine hummed rather cheerily, her eyes glinting something dangerous mason didn’t want to find out yet. “just what changes, mase?”

another sigh coming from jasmine’s other end. her brother could be seen pinching the bridge of his nose, in hope to soothe his invisible confusion. confused as to how to answer his own sister because he truly didn’t know the answer.

what changed? everything.

nothing changed yet everything changed, if that made sense. but nothing was making sense in mason’s standard currently.

yet everything was making sense in jasmine’s standard. “do you love her?”

“no,” that much, mason could give out. “of course not.”

“do you like her?”

“yes,” that much, mason could give out. who didn’t like serena? aside from him, a thousand of eldorran people could vouch on their soft spot towards the princess. “if not, I wouldn’t be marrying her.”

jasmine smiled wider. she might not know whatever reason his stupid brother married the youngest monarch in the first place, but mason’s answer was enough.

at least for now.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

what jasmine didn’t know was that mason had asked serena’s stay to be prolonged until he had elena under control. aka, being under police custody.

it was a rather long legal process to get her taken by the authority, and it was still an ongoing battle. so he didn’t want to risk it, not when he had two lives to protect now, until he knew all of them were able to breathe safely without being hunted by an unwanted ghost of the past.

the only people currently allowed to enter mason’s premise were only him and the house’s caretaker he’d entrusted with since the first time he moved here. maybe even longer, since she’d also worked for the previous owner. but it was also because she left the house when she was done with her work—he’d never felt so lucky she refused his offer to become a live-in caretaker a long time ago, or else mason surely had fired her too as he didn’t want to risk her life as well.

“the duffel bag for your wife is by the door, mr. mount,” the caretaker lady spoke up as mason entered the kitchen, ready to ask of her another plate of his favourite cheat meal. “please let me know if you need anything else.

“thank you, sam,” and he was truly grateful sam stayed behind the past couple of days, just until mason left the house after getting fresh set of clothes, because he didn’t know what to do about serena’s wardrobe if he was left alone. he didn’t want to intrude serena’s privacy just yet, not even when he’d be forgiven if he told her the reason why. “but could you make me that broccoli fusilli with cheese you always store in the fridge? I haven’t had the chance to grab a meal.”

“broccoli fusilli?”

mason looked up from his seat, puzzled. “yes, you usually wrap them with clear foil with some other dishes,”

maybe mason should start feeling less lucky sam previously refused to become a live-in caretaker. there were too many things that he started not knowing of ever since serena lived under the same roof as his, things that sam could’ve told him if she’d come to live with him.

when sam didn’t move from her spot, mason braved himself to ask the multimillion dollar question. “didn’t you make all those food?”

“no, mr. mount,” the older woman shook her head, as confused as he was. “your wife never lets me touch the kitchen since you both got married. it’s all her cooking.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

since sam’s last words, mason hadn’t been the same person as he was when he returned to his house from the hospital earlier that afternoon. mason hadn’t been the same person—heck, mason hadn’t been a person at all during the entire trip to the away game.

he recalled having the fridge always stocked. with his favourite snacks, beverages, and beers—a chore he remembered giving to sam on the earliest days of the caretaker. the frozen and wrapped dishes he’d like to warm up whenever he came by the house after spending his time with elena in her home, was indeed only recently, but he never expected them to be made and left there by his wife. he only thought sam was having extra energy of some sort to cook too much for two—serena and herself—that she left some for him to heat up later.

what else did serena do for him?

“what’s bothering you, lad?”

ben chilwell’s voice snapped mason’s thoughts into a wreckage, but mason could say he needed it. they were coming on shortly, for god’s sake. “nothing, just my wife.”

“I thought you don’t have a wife?” ben’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. the left back remembered vividly mason’s admission to not having a wife yet because that title was supposedly reserved for elena. now that the other lady was tangled in a legal battle—one mason didn’t bother telling him of, by the way, that he had to find out from their common friend’s mouths—ben wondered who mason might be referring to. “do you have another mistress or something?”

if mason pulled the rug under his feet, ben was more than ready to chase the younger man down the bloody hall.

“no! of course not!” mason shook his head off rather violently, expressing his extreme distaste towards ben’s accusation. “I mean, serena.”

“how’s she, by the way?” despite sharing mutuals with elena, ben couldn’t help but become concerned towards the princess this time around. “I hope she’s getting better.”

“she is, thanks for asking,” mason threw his best friend the “formal” smile because while he was happy serena had indeed been getting better, he wouldn’t know how to make of their impending situation when he got back. “it’s just that... I don’t know, mate. I can’t believe still that elena could do such thing.”

“no one saw that coming, mase,” ben patted down mason’s knees, giving him a reassurance smile, letting the fan’s favourite know he shared the same sentiment. “don’t fret so much about it.”

“I thought she was the one, you know?” mason let out another deep sigh, a developing habit he vowed to eradicate soon, as he tied his shoes tighter. “maybe she still is.”

“if you think she is, you need to get rid of serena,” ben crouched down to put his shinpad in place. “you know that, right?”

“I do, but I can’t seem to do that to her. not after what elena did to her,” mason’s statement actually halted ben’s movement for a split second because it was all a lot to take in, honestly. “maybe I’ll purse elena again after I’ve got it sorted with serena.”

“so is it elena or serena?”

ben was expecting mason to give him a straight, direct answer but a hesitant mason was not in the cards, at all. if someone told ben about this side of mason a month ago, he would’ve laughed at their face.

“forget I asked,” ben was honestly scared of the thought mason changing overnight, not when he knew the younger footballer had been head over heels with his model, muse—whatever it is he calls her with—since the first time he laid his eyes on her. “why do you care so much about serena anyway?”

ben’s question might be simple but it was enough to stun mason in his place.

why do you care so much about her?

at that precise moment, his phone vibrated in his hands. rather violently, compared to the empty state of his mind, but speaking of the devil…

good luck for today.

same text, from the same person, on the same time. sent impeccably 30 minutes before match, just right before the gaffer’s pre-match brief.

mason didn’t know he was holding a bated breath but as he read the text once more, a small smile crept into his face. it was the text he’d been waiting for. even though he didn’t always reply to them, she never missed out on telling him what she was up to—always watching him from home was what she was conveying.

not even elena managed to pull out a routine such as.

and that was when mason knew he had the answer to ben’s earlier question; because she cares about him, always has.

it was only right to reciprocate it, no?

“I hope that’s not the guilt speaking,” mason looked up to the older englishman, who patted his shoulder just now as he looked over mason’s shoulder, only to find the text from serena. “you were so adamant to propose elena a month ago, remember?”

the word guilt rang in mason’s ears more violently than an earthquake ever could.

next chapter contains:

“mason, what are you doing here?” “I’m making sure no one barges into the house and attack you again.”

[danger-xylophones]

Hey! I hope you're having a good day/night <3 I had a LOTR and/or The Hobbit headcannon request but if you're not taking those rn I understand <3 How various characters would react to a friend (reader) who is very emotional (like, the type of person who when they find something funny they LAUGH HARD, has deff. been kicked out of public places for fighting people who made them angry, and gets teary eyed even over the death and suffering of animals and total strangers) Any character is fine, I love them all, but please include Gandalf (he's SO COOL! and I feel like he doesn't get included in hcs enough but idk-) Thank you <3 :)

Howdy, I am still taking requests it just takes me awhile to get around to them.

I also agree Gandalf should show up more.

Gandalf:

Gandalf adores you

You are unequivocally one of his favorite people

And that's saying a lot considering he's been around for centuries

He loves how expressive you are and wishes more people were as free with their emotions, he thinks that maybe some problems in middle-earth could be solved if people were just more open about how they're feeling

Of course, he acknowledges that your propensity for expression can be a danger at times

He would never wish for you to stop being so expressive, but he does wish you'd quit getting kicked out of bars

It makes it hard to go get a drink with you because you're banned from a lot of places for 'roughhousing'

He's keen to have you meet Radagast, he thinks the two of you would get along swimmingly

I will add he's hesitant to smoke anything other than pipeweed with you - I mean, you're already prone to heightened emotions when sober, he's a bit scared to see what happens when you've got some for of recreational substance in you.

You're the first person he wants to show any new fireworks he learns to make to because you let your enchantment with the party favors shine through unabashedly

Beorn:

Beorn was initially a bit put off by you

He's very quiet and used to the company of animals who normally don't laugh when he cracks a joke to himself

But he warms up to you when he sees just how deeply you care for anyone and anything

He took you on a walk one day and you started crying because you found a tree that'd been scorched by a lighting bolt

And again when you were so gentle and tender with one of his horses that suffered a bad scrape on its side

He starts to open up a bit when you're around

It's not that noticeable but the jokes he normally cracks to himself are now loud enough for you to hear

He looks forward to your sporadic visits now

Legolas:

Being an elf who was raised to keep a stoic countenance, he finds your expressiveness odd but a welcome change

The first time he cracked a joke that made you laugh he was worried you'd asphyxiate

Gandalf had to be the one to explain that you were just like that, that you felt things a bit differently from others

It takes Legolas a bit to get used to just how strong your emotions are

He happened to be in a bar with you when you got kicked out once, he was worried he'd be helping you bury a body before the end of the night

He understands your empathy for animals though, as that is something he can say he feels deeply

Elves share a special bond with all life and though they are often spared by death, that does not mean witnessing it ever gets easier

He eventually learns to appreciate your expressiveness as a gift few can claim to have

Galadriel:

Galadriel is very fond of you

You remind of her of her younger self who was more wild and willing to let her feelings shine through

She loves it when you tell her stories of your life

Your still just as emotive while recounting your journeys with Gandalf to her as you probably were while traveling

She's a bit jealous of you though, as she wishes she could show her emotions as freely as you do

You're a breath of fresh air for her

As the Lady of Lothlorien, she has a certain countenance she must uphold and that stoicism is often repaid with aloofness from her fellow elves

But you remind her she is also a person, same as you, and that she feels too

Gimli:

Whenever you get tossed out of a bar, Gimli's often right there with you

He's also loud and expressive

You can hear his laugh through the clamor of a filled tavern and his temper has also gotten his name blacklisted at a few mead halls

He thinks of you're pretty dwarvish, which is high praise to him

Dwarves are passionate folk and that passion is celebrated because it takes great emotions to ring art from stone

He does feel a bit awkward if he sees you cry only because it takes a lot to make dwarves cry

So he's a bit clumsy if he tries to comfort you

But he loves that he can find you in a crowd if he pauses to listen for a laugh

Bard:

Bard doesn't know how to feel about you, if he's perfectly honest

You remind him of his children who are still learning how to control their temperaments

And his initial thought is that you're too immature

However, when he does finally sit down and talk to you he's quick to realize that this supposed 'immaturity' is something he completely fabricated

You're incredibly intelligent, emotionally and intellectually

And he soon realizes he made a grave mistake judging you so early on

He comes to love just how boisterous your laugh is

It becomes enough for him to start laughing just hearing you laugh

He's still learning how to handle you're more fiery emotions

But he's a loyal friend who'll stick with you even when you get the both of you kicked out of the bar

[princessphilly]

Hello, love! A little birdie told me you have a big day ahead of you today, so I wanted to drop a little something off as a pick me up for later. It’s a little different than my usual, but I wanted to try something new. Sending you good vibes and some love from Bob and me! <3

- tazer anon

You had picked him out at the bar that night. He was sweet, a little geeky and shy, but polite. His gentle, hesitant touch and soft, southern drawl stood out from the other patrons. You figured he would be a safe bet to go home with at the end of the night. He had such good manners, you could blow his mind if nothing else. Be a story for him to tell and let you blow off a little steam.

He told you his name was Bob, and he was a Naval pilot. Another surprise. You’d met pilots before. They were notoriously cocky, and— at least the one you had the misfortune of knowing— didn’t satisfy.

You told him as much, watching the flush spread across his cheeks and redden his ears. Bob explained that he was a “wizzo;” he wasn’t actually flying, he was manning the weapons systems. He answered all the questions you asked that night, jumping when you danced your hand up his thigh. Turning that lovely shade of pink again.

Like a gentleman, he picked up your tab and insisted you switch to water after a few drinks. Bob asked all sorts of questions about you: hobbies, music, movies, work. After a 20 minute recount of the chewing out you got from your project manager for HIS mistake that afternoon, you noticed how attentively he was listening to you and how easily you’d opened up. It made you flustered, apologizing for dumping that on him when he was just out looking for a good time.

“Don’t apologize, darlin’. I’m sorry you had such a rough day.” He dropped a warm, reassuring hand to your exposed knee. The rasp of his rough palm tickling your velvety skin. Bob asked another question, fingers playing idly with the hem of your dress.

You talked, he made you laugh, and after you’d finished your waters, Bob asked if he could escort you home. He was so sweet, you resolved that yeah, you were going to blow his mind. You should have remembered to look out for the quiet ones.

It had been you to push him back into your door. You that initiated the kiss, sinking your fingers into the short hairs at the nape of his neck. You who started plucking open the buttons of his neatly pressed shirt. You had a plan: suck him off enough to get him pliant, then ride him hard. Watch his eyes grow wide behind fogging glasses and see how far you could get that pretty flush to spread. Maybe in the afterglow, see if you couldn’t talk him into letting you ride his face, too. You had a plan, but the firm grip on your wrists halting your progress at four buttons threw a wrench in that plan.

“You sure you want to do this, darlin’?” He asked, blue eyes pinning you in place as if amplified by the lenses in front of them. You nodded. “If you want me to stop, you say the word, and I will.” His voice, once timid, now sincere and intense.

“Okay.”

“You promise, darlin’?”

“I promise.”

“Good girl.” He stroked the rough pad of his thumb over the apple of your cheek, and that’s when you realized that Bob had been in control from the moment your apartment door clicked closed behind you both. Maybe even from the moment you approached him at the bar. You thought you’d lured him into your honeysuckle trap, but it had been the other way around. You weren’t mad about it, either.

Even during sex, he kept up his manners, checking in and asking if things were okay.

“Spread your legs for me, please. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

“Can you keep ‘em open nice and wide for me? Thank you.”

“Can I touch you like this? Is that okay?”

“Such pretty tits. Can I suck on these, baby? Would you like that?”

“Open your mouth for me, please. Good girl, get my fingers nice and wet.”

“Thank you, sweet girl.”

It seemed so silly, but you wanted to please him and you wanted his praise. You wanted to hear him groan while he swiped his tongue in broad strokes through your glistening folds. You wanted him to work you open with three of his thick, callused fingers. You wanted to hear him praise you when you came so hard you squirted all over the front of his crisp button down.

And when you begged and pleaded, he always gave.

“Please, I need your cock inside me.”

“Faster, please, faster!”

“Yes, I love your hand around my throat. Harder, pleasepleaseplease, I need it harder!”

And with every mind numbing orgasm, you shook and shivered, keening his name and “thank you, thank you, thank you, fuuuuuuuck!” Whining and whimpering under every praise hitting your ear in that soft drawl.

Rolled on your side, with Bob tucked close behind you. His cock stuffing your spent pussy, puffy and pulsating. He rocked into you gently, knowing how overstimulated four orgasms would leave you. He cradled you, wrapping you in his arms, planting kisses along your neck, shoulder, jaw. Bob’s breath was ragged in your ear. Senses hazy, but you heard him loud and clear.

“Where do you want me to cum, sweet girl?” The rhythm of his hips starting to pick up. You gave a broken moan as the hand under you covered his own on your breast and squeezed, the other flying back behind you to sink your nails into his ass.

“Where do you want me to cum, sweet girl?” He asked again, pounding into you properly this time. Every thrust jiggling your ass and jolting the mattress against its frame.

“Inside!” You whined, “please cum in my pussy!” He growled in your ear, bringing a hand down to work frantic circles over your aching clit. Desperate to feel you clench around him one last time.

Your voice broke in a moan of thank you’s and sobs, while your hot, wet walls locking around him like a vice sent him straight over the edge. Bob moaned, deep and guttural into your neck; panting and pressing his hips as flush to your ass as possible. You felt the heat of his release fill you from the inside, the twitching of his length matching the anemic fluttering of your walls. “Thank you, darlin’.”

The next morning you woke, half expecting Bob to be long gone. Instead, you found him half-hard inside you still, stroking the baby hairs at your temple; urging you gently back to the land of the living. You offered to wash his shirt and he offered to make you breakfast. After round two.

I was blessed two days ago and now I’m sharing with everyone else. I love you, Tazer anon.

@withahappyrefrain @writercole @wildbornsiren @iguana-braces @imjess-themess @sebsxphia @thesluttyarchivist @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @thedroneranger @roosterforme @fuckyeahhangman

[whatanightmaregrinch]

John Hancock x Fem!Sole Survivor- holy matron

{{ TW: Drug use, biblical references ig?, intense feelings}}

In Hancock’s opinion, taking up with the vault-dweller had saved him. Feeling like a fraud was no good, but walking around Goodneighbor made it worse. It only fed his increasing self-loathing, and then in turn, his chem habits. He spent most of his time either in his office absolutely fucked out of his face, or stamping out get-rich-quick schemes he would have given an arm and a leg to be a part of with people and ghouls he would have been glad to call his partners, and it was weighing on him. If he wasn’t concerned about the threats to his people, it was his own personal demons that taunted him. So many times he’d thought about taking just one too many Day-tripper, just to see how close he could get to the edge without going over (although he was more than sure that if he did tumble off of the edge, he wouldn’t have given a shit anyway).

Constantly grappling with his inner self; he felt like two men consistently battling for the right to live, the stronger of the two dictating his actions at the time. The coward who he desperately wanted to bury, urging him to just hide under his covers and take as much jet as he could not to feel anything, the degenerate who’d allowed a fellow drifter to meet their end at the hands of Vic and his boys- and the ghoul he’d forcibly become. The ghoul who treated his citizens with care, the ghoul who would stand up for what was right no matter the cost, famous for his freedom loving attitude and warm hospitality. He figured he’d get a little soul searching out of their travels together initially, but he ended up discovering a whole different way to be. Sole Survivor’s bottomless confidence and kindness had revived the way he thought about the Commonwealth and the people in it, and quite frankly, it had scared him. He’d never expected such a change to blossom within him, and it ignited an intense fire. The type of fire that had shown him he was thinking too small in terms of personal goals. This woman had somehow managed to co-ordinate a bunch of tattered strangers into becoming a trusted outfit (a feat, considering the name “Minutemen” often left a shitty taste in people’s mouths), all the while searching for her son and taking the fucking Institute on. If she could do that all at the same time, he could at least try and get his shit together.  When they woke in the mornings, he was more excited to start the day with her, not terrified, high, and preparing for that day to be his last in the wastelands. Maybe some things would never change- like his habitual chem use, but he didn’t force Buffout and Mentats down his throat as soon as his eyes cracked open just to deal with the thought of being alive, most days. Sometimes it was bad, and he felt like he couldn’t move from the pile he’d put himself into, but she would always be there to lend him a hand, out of the dark hole and into the light again. He was sure the Commonwealth had brought forth an angel, a dazzling burst of sunshine on his radiation-clouded day. She listened to everything and anything he had to say, and the more he talked, revealing the sorer parts of himself, the more he realised the fondness he had for her was developing into something more tangible, something real. She had too many shining qualities for him not to be attracted to her- and like a moth to a flame, he was sucked in.  Guilt ate at him most days after he realised how he felt about her. He felt like he was betraying the trust his friend had placed in him to travel with her as a companion- his widowed friend, no less. She didn’t really talk about her spouse, Nate, only if something small came up- like if a song came on that he used to like, or when they’d eat sugar bombs and she would smile a sort of painful smile, recounting how she’d throw them at Nate for him to catch in his mouth. There was a part of Hancock that detested Nate- not for loving Sole, but for being such a standard of man that John could never hope to compare himself too. It was unfair of him to do that, he knew that Nate wasn’t the one stopping him from being a better man, but when it came to Sole, Hancock wished he could be nothing short of perfect for her. For starters, he wasn’t smooth-skinned the way she was, and whilst he had confidence, it wasn’t that much confidence. She was ethereal at times, eyes straight from a pre-war film actress that burned into the back of his eyelids. He was well ... He was John Hancock, the guy who’d purposely taken a radiation drug knowing it was about to fuck him up and turn his skin into a pile of brahmin shit, just so he didn’t have to look at his own face anymore. Cause a girl’s gonna find self-mutilation sooo attractive. Sole wasn’t the type to judge on appearance- he was sure of that, but he couldn’t be sure that he was what she wanted, and losing the close bond he had with her over something like this scared him to silence regarding his feelings. He promised himself he wouldn’t read too much into how she acted and responded to him, he knew well enough that she was grieving and probably interpretated his actions as simple kindness, but he couldn’t help the way his chest seized when she interacted with him of her own accord- a guiding hand on his forearm when he was about to turn in the wrong direction, a quick but joyous hug when they received good news- his brain ate those memories up and played on repeat for him to experience, over and over again in the back of his mind. He was starting to feel like a teenager around her, and it was fuckin’ embarrassing. He was the king of ghouls, not some scared teen attracted to the girl next door. She was far from that type of lady anyways, hard to picture the woman as innocent when he’d seen her take a Raider’s face off with a hunting rifle at point-blank range. “Hancock?” the angel whispered at them from across the campfire. He immediately gave his full attention, not that she’d demanded it.  “Mm?” he made a noise in reply, and her smile washed over him like a sunrise, beautiful and life-giving. He’d bask in her glow for an eternity if she would only let him.  “Do you think the Greentop Nursery folks will be okay? I’m worried the turrets won’t be enough.” She confessed, patting the ground next to her to search for her cigarette carton and flip-lighter. He almost felt amused at her line of questioning, he was sure that those people were safer than the dickheads in Diamond City with how many defences she’d created and repaired when they visited. “Between the turrets and the traps ya’ set up? More than okay. We’re not too far from ‘em though, could always check in tomorrow.” He offered, and she seemed to turn his suggestion over in her mind as she lit the cigarette, and enhaled. “Alright, We’ll check tomorrow- I just wanna make sure the Greenskins stay gone this time, that’s all.” She said, idly glancing at their surroundings, as if the very mention of a Super-Mutant would cause one to come crashing out of the bushes at them, Mini-Nuke in hand. He stared at her for a moment too long, and she gestured at her face. “Something there?” She rubbed at her cheeks, paranoid for dust marks or otherwise. He laughed, shaking his head.” No, but if there was i’d probably just let it sit, see how long it took ya’ to notice.” She rolled her eyes at him, throwing a rock at him, which just bounced off the tree he was sat near, and settled by a puddle on the floor. “Nice, real nice. What if ya’ took me eye out? What then? I’d be a one-eyed ghoul and it’d be your fault.” He sniffed, playfully. She actually considered the prospect, and grinned as she puffed at her cigarette. “I’d lead you around, tell everyone you lost your eye trying to chat up a Deathclaw.” She mused, exhaling some smoke, and he snorted. “Ya’d still lead me around though, feel like I win there.” He pointed out, and she grunted in reply. He grinned, he loved that noise. It was an old-man habit she had, unable to admit she was wrong, but not proud enough to dismiss him completely. He fished around in his pocket for his Berry Mentats, and pilfered two for himself, throwing them back like they were shots of whiskey. She spotted the box, and sweetly batted her eyelashes at him, silently asking for some. He rose a (long-gone) brow, and held the box up in the light the fire provided, so they could both see the faded design. “Ya’ want some of these? I dunno..” He pretended to be all beat up about her asking, masquerading as a ghoul who truly cared about his chem supply. “I just feel like keepin’ ‘em all too myself.” He continued, eyes trailing to hers to see what she would do with his defiance. She processed the moment, and a playful expression touched her features.  She suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs, pointing over his shoulder with a terrified face, and to her credit, it startled him enough for him to turn and look. She scrambled forward, hand shooting out to take the Mentats from him, but he was faster- leaning back and holding them up and out of reach, arching away from her. “I’ve been around too long for that to work on me, nice try though.” He taunted, waving the packet around. She huffed, but quickly went in for another attack. Hancock felt himself involuntarily gasp when Sole launched herself at him with such force that it sent both of them toppling to the ground, her arms coming to pin his forearms to the floor, causing his tricorn hat to fly off, abandoned next to them on the floor. He was vaguely aware of the way her legs straddled his stomach, but he couldn’t even form thoughts to react, especially when a smile so wolfish and greedy eclipsed her that it had his brain factory reset. He was too close to her, the fire illuminated her in a warm and inviting glow, she was so close he could count her eyelashes if he wanted too, and oh how he wanted. He wanted to know everything about her, wanted to know what made her smile when she felt down, wanted to know what made her mad; how he could make her happy again. “I’ve been alive for over two-hundred years, John. Nothing works on me, either.” She taunted him, proud at their role reversal. All he could do was watch, wide-eyed as she shifted her weight, easily grabbing the box of Mentats from him (like he’d ever put up a fight). She tipped one out into her hand, and dropped it into the back of her throat, swallowing her ‘stolen’ chems with a slight grimace at the taste. Hancock was sure this was as close as he’d ever get to heaven, watching her felt like observing a miracle up close. He watched in a trance as her attention finally turned back to him, completely enraptured by her movements. He watched as she analysed him, and she opened her mouth to talk to him, but whatever it was that she wanted to say slipped away as her pupils expanded, eating away at her irises until they were tiny slivers, pupils gorging themselves on any light that strayed too close. She shuddered, allowing the chem to sink into her. This felt holy, her grace flooding him. He felt naked, stripped bare of his corporal form, for her to view all of his sins underneath her. It was too much, too fast. His brain reeled at her perfume; tones of amber and sandalwood, and his body reacted before his brain had chance to sign off on the idea. In true John Hancock fashion, he told her the one thing he absolutely shouldn’t have.  “I might be in love with you.” he stumbled out, and he froze when his thought process caught up with the rest of his body, gasping and furious about being left out of the decision, waving a shiv at him. She stared at him in silence, processing his words, and he sucked in a breath when she didn’t back away from him, but instead increased the amount of weight she was using to lean on him. He was pinned underneath her now, not that he could consider moving- the gaze she fixed him with was intense, he felt like he could set ablaze any minute if she willed it.  “You’re either in love with me, or you aren’t. You don’t maybe love someone.” Her words burned his ears, and he trembled as his brain, riddled with Mentats, tried to summon a response. “I do love you.” He managed, heart beating in his ears. She leaned closer to him, absorbing his amended confession with a furrow of her brow. “Tell me again.” She demanded quietly, and John experienced her in a way she’d never allowed before. Her face was flushed, revealing her excitement- her eyes held a far-away desperation, a need to feel wanted, to feel loved. Hancock didn’t give a shit if anyone overhead him, he held her gaze as he told her again.  “I love you.” She didn’t ask, but he continued to repeat the words to her like they were a prayer, and each time he said them, she got a little closer, a little more relaxed by his devotion to her. He would become a martyr for her cause, no matter the personal cost. She finally closed the gap, and they shared a kiss. It was a little rough, the Mentats in both of their systems meant they couldn’t afford the same grace they’d have sober. She pulled away, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and her lips remained there for a moment to whisper to him.  “Love me, John. Love me for as long as you can.”  

[eddiemunsonssparklyeyes]

Everything Nice

So... I kinda hated how Sugar and Spice ended, so I added a third part that I titled, of course, Everything Nice, for no other reason than that I am basic. This really is just a bit of drabble to tie up some loose ends I was unsatisfied with. I may continue this into a regular series, but I am undecided as of yet. Let me know what you think.

Warnings: mentions of sex

Summary: It's the morning after you hooked up with Eddie at the Valentine's Day dance and it's time to confront what that means for the two of you going forward. Was it just a fling? Or something more?

Word Count: 1.5k

A warm beam of sunlight cast a golden glow across your face, illuminating the creases where your face had melded to your pillow case and the crust of dried drool in the corner of your mouth. Fluttering your eyes open you blinked at the dust dancing in the sun ray, and squinted at the flashing red numbers on your alarm clock. 6:47 A.M. Even though it was early, you felt fully rested and couldn't remember the last time you slept so well. What had you done the night before that had you sleeping like a baby? Oh. Oh.

Suddenly last night came rushing back to you, memories crashing in wave over wave. You knew exactly what you did last night. He was still asleep in bed next to you. You turned gently to cast your gaze on Eddie's peaceful, sleeping form. A strand of his untamed mop fell across his face and his lip twitched. His steady breathing was soundtracked by a quiet snore and his eyelashes fluttered, indicating a dream state.

Quickly, you recounted the previous night's events to catch your delirious, morning brain up to speed. You and Eddie went to the Valentine's Day dance together. You danced. You kissed. It was sweet. And then you hooked up in the drama room. It was hot. And then you told him your parents were out of town and invited him to stay the night at your place. And then you hooked up again. And that's how you found yourself with your legs tangled up with his, and his arm draped across your midriff.

'Jesus.' You chided yourself, 'What is wrong with you? You just met this guy yesterday. You had a really nice date that could have evolved into a respectable relationship, but you couldn't keep it in your pants. What if he was only interested so he could have sex with you? You certainly didn't give him a challenge.'

You were so invested in your self-loathing, internal monologue that you didn't notice Eddie had woken. He startled you when he pulled you closer to him and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Morning, princess."

His voice was gruff, and gravelly in the morning and the way his warm breath blew strands of hair across your face made you shiver. You couldn't help but smile, though the conversation you were about to initiate was uncomfortable. It could wait a few more minutes while you soaked up this moment with Eddie. You buried your face in his chest and snuggled in closer, further entwining your legs.

"Morning." You mumbled.

He gently stroked your back and it felt so natural, so right, being here with him like this, that you almost convinced yourself that there was no conversation to be had. But, you knew that wasn't true.

You sighed and pried yourself from your hiding place against his chest.

"Eddie, we need to talk."

The easy, blissful gaze he had immediately steeled over as he braced for what you might say next. His mind filled in the blanks while you struggled to find the words you needed.

Last night was a one-time thing.

I don't want to see you anymore.

You're too weird and I don't like you.

Somehow what you said hurt worse than what his mind has conjured.

"I-I think last night was a mistake."

He kicked himself for letting his walls down so quickly, but he could build them back up just as fast. He sucked his teeth and nodded once.

"Got it." He said flatly as he turned to get out of bed.

You grabbed his arm.

"No, no, no, no! Not like that! Wait, please."

He looked into your pleading eyes and considered shaking your hand off of him. But, the warmth from your palm was radiating through his whole body and settling like a weight in his chest, and he knew he couldn't walk away from you. He sat down on the edge of the bed and chewed his lip nervously.

"A mistake, huh?" He asked softly.

"Not a mistake," You amended, "Just... too soon, maybe?"

He tilted his head pensively, "It was... unexpected." He admitted.

You breathed a sigh of relief at having a dialogue going.

"Right! I need you to know that that was so unlike me! I don't just go around hooking up with guys that I've only just met."

He raised an eyebrow and a smirk twitched at the corner of his lip, "So what you're saying is that I'm special?"

He was trying to make a joke, but he had hit the nail on the head. You placed a gentle hand over his heart.

"So special. I really like you, Eddie. And if last night is anything to go off, I think we'd be really great together. I just... I don't want to ruin it by getting ahead of ourselves. Could we just take a teensy step back? Really get to know each other before we have sex again?"

He grabbed your hand off his chest and placed a gentle kiss on each of your knuckles.

"I really like you, too, sweetheart. And I understand where you're coming from. Last night was... a lot. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was amazing, but, yeah... a lot."

He pivoted his hand so your fingers were laced together.

"How about this?" He proposed, "Let's get dressed, and I'll take you out to breakfast. A real, proper first date. Then, at school, I'll hold your hand, and carry your books, and punch any jock who tries to hit on you."

You shoved his shoulder lightly and tried and failed to suppress a grin, "Shut up."

"I'm serious, sweetheart!" He was impassioned, "I want to do this right! I want to take my time with you. And, I know that when we finally get to that place where we're ready to have sex that isn't just based on raging hormones, but is based on trust and connection, that's going to be so worth it. You are worth it. That's what I want."

You blinked back the tears welling in your eyes. The weight of the moment settled over you and you placed Eddie's hand against your cheek, planting a gentle kiss on his palm.

"Would you really punch a jock for me? You whispered.

"I'll punch anyone you like." He answered seriously, "Give me a list."

You laughed and threw your arms around Eddie, pulling him into an embrace, "Thank you for understanding."

He leaned back so he could see your face and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing the tip of your nose, "Thank you for letting me know how you were feeling. The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable."

You two settled into an easy silence, soaking up each other's presence. Eddie kissed your shoulder after a few minutes and said, "So... breakfast?"

You sighed, hating to leave this cocoon, "I'll go get dressed.

You got dressed in the bathroom, feeling suddenly shy being naked around Eddie, despite that you had had sex with him twice now. You really wanted to hit the reset button and do this right. You came back into your bedroom wearing a black, mock neck sweater tucked into a forest green, suede mini skirt with gold buttons down the front. Eddie was wearing his jeans and sneakers, but no shirt.

He gave you a sheepish look, "I, uh... I don't have another shirt." He gestured toward the burgundy button up on the floor.

You raised an eyebrow and teased, "What? You don't want to do the walk of shame?"

He gave a laugh, "Preferably not, but if I have to, then--"

"No, no!" You cut him off, "I'm sure my dad has a t-shirt you can borrow. I'll be right back."

You found a black t-shirt in your parents' dresser that was just a little loose on Eddie, but you were sure your dad wouldn't miss it. Eddie took you to a local diner and you found out that he liked his eggs scrambled and his coffee black. You treasured these mundane bits of information, even more so when the waitress asked if you wanted grape or raspberry jam with your toast and Eddie answered for you.

"Grape! She hates raspberry."

After breakfast, he took you to school, and true to his word, held your hands and carried your books. To any onlookers, it must have been a sight. Him dressed in all black, covered in tattoos and a bad reputation. You delicate and new, like an early spring flower, still glistening with morning dew, untouched by corruption. Or so they had thought.

Is that Eddie Munson with the new girl? How did that happen?

Fuck them all. Fuck reputations, and stereotypes, and anything else that might indicate you and Eddie were anything other than perfect for each other. He walked you to your locker and stood by while you organized your things. He saw the looks people gave as they passed, but he was too enraptured by you to care. Let them think what they wanted. He was Eddie Munson, and you were his girl.

[all4ston3]

corruption w trey parker

note;; uhm this actually started as like a blurb but i got carried away :(( trey makes my mind go blank i just need him so bad

warnings!!;; sucking treys dick, praise, like a pinch of degradation, slightly tipsy trey n reader, she/her pronouns used, begging………. i think that’s all ok bye!!

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

u and trey have been friends for a really long time! for almost 5 years, long enough to where there is a mutual attraction but both parties are scared to act on it in fear of ruining a perfectly good friendship. and throughout all those years,, trey has been partying, doing drugs and doing not so innocent things. u stayed home and focused on ur career, honestly u weren’t even aware of all the dirty things he’d been up to!!

one day you guys bump into each other and he offers to take you out for a drink so u two could catch up, and the alcohol loosened him up, so he told you EVERYTHING he had been up to, recounting all of the pleasurable experiences he had that he could remember.

u were left speechless and flustered. u were a shy person, u had maybe 2 sexual encounters in ur life that were very vanilla and honestly boring and unremarkable. as trey was talking u couldn’t help but imagine yourself with him. u being in those girls places, u being the one called a whore or you being the one facefucked.

trey noticed ur silence and ur red cheeks. “what’s up? are you uncomfortable?” he was quick to put his hand on ur shoulder and stare at u, waiting for a response. the worry in his eyes made ur heart melt and you were reminded of how much u truly wanted him. “oh! no not at all actually! i’m just thinking.. i haven’t had any rememberable .. sex experiences. you have so many!” trey sighed in relief at your answer and slid his hand down your arm. he had a wicked smile on his face and he pondered for a second, he was planning something. “that’s okay. it’s okay.. i’m free tonight and i could take you home and show you a time worth remembering. if that’s okay with you?”

you agreed. you had been waiting years to finally hang out with trey. your little crush on him had grown so much over the years and you loved just being around him. spending quality time with him. you loved just being in his presence, being able to smell his cologne or see his face up close and not on the tv. you hadn’t even realized he was talking about sex initially. you only realized when he had you go into his room. he followed behind and shut the door behind him. you looked back and locked eyes with trey, who was smiling and looking at you in an almost evil way.

all he could think about was getting you on your knees in front of him, having you stare up at him and obeying everything he said. he had been waiting for years to have an opportunity to do this. he always thought of how much of a good girl you were, and how he wanted to corrupt your mind. he wanted to be able to have you at his mercy.

he walked over to you and gently took your face in his hands and put his mouth on yours. the alcohol on his breath while he felt you up had you starstruck. you warmed into the kiss and reached up, grabbing his bleached hair. he groaned and was quick to grab your hips and pull them into his. you don’t remember the last time you felt so eager for something. you moved your hands from his hair and reached for his belt, trying to frantically take it off. but before you could he grabbed your hands. “not so fast, if you need it that bad you need to show me and beg for it.”

you were confused and stared up at him, your face red with embarrassment. you were used to men just giving it you without foreplay or anything. you expected to get trey so fast. “i know baby, i know.. just get on your knees and beg, okay? i know you’ll do so well.” he put his hands on your shoulders and gently pushed you down. you quickly followed and got down on your knees.

you didn’t know what to do. you put your hands on your lap and looked around as you got progressively flustered. trey noticed your uneasiness and squated down, gently grabbing your hands and massaging them. “i need you to start begging. you want this cock, right?” he asked. you quickly looked at him and nodded, sitting up a little so you were more level with him. “alright, beg for it then.” he had said before standing back up.

his crotch was face level with you and you gently palmed his cock through his clothes. “trey.. please? please…” you had whispered. “speak up. also try harder than that for me. just ‘please’ wont do it for me. beg like you need it. like you’ll die without it.” he pushed your hand away from his crotch and held his belt with both of his hands.

“please!! trey you don’t understand, i need it so bad… been waiting years to finally be with you n do this.. trey i need your cock, i’ll go crazy without it!” you grasped at his pants and stared up at him, pulling at his pants. he said nothing as he undid his belt, only bothering to pull his pants n boxers halfway down before pulling his cock out.

it was big. bigger than you had expected. it was a sight for sore eyes, made you start to drool. “i’ll teach you how to suck cock. i can tell you never have.” he has said without even thinking twice, holding your hair up with his hands. you wanted to be mad at him for saying that, but he was right. you were totally inexperienced. “ok sweetness, i’m going to guide you with my hands. if it’s too much, touch my leg.” he mumbled before bringing your head forward. you opened your mouth and took his tip into your mouth, gently sucking on it before going any further. he grunted and his knees buckled, “fuck, feels so good already..” he continued pushing your head down just a bit more. he held your head still and slowly thrusted in and out of your mouth, never going all the way down. “fuck!” he whimpered, just staring down at your face. “your mouth was made for this.. your mouth was made for my cock n mine only..”

he continued this way for a while before he decided you were okay to go rougher. all of the sudden, he pushed his cock down your throat slowly. you gagged and tried to pull off. “breathe… through your nose..” he grunted, his grip on your hair getting tighter. he was constantly making noises and twitching. you had spit around your mouth and dripping down your chin, you looked pathetic and he took every second of it in. you were a fucking mess and you knew it, but you loved it. you loved being a slut for trey.

it wasn’t much longer before he had came down your throat, pushing your head down as far as you could take it. he got loud, moaning and grunting loud enough to sound like yelling. he pulled out and stared down at you. “you were born for this, god i could use your throat any fucking day.” there was a mixture of cum, tears, spit and sweat all over your face. you wanted to respond to him, but you were too fucked up to think of any words. you were just desperate for him to fuck you like a whore. to fuck you like you didn’t matter to him. he knew this. “okay alright.. go ahead and stand up n get on the bed.”

[lovesongbracket]

Reminder: Vote based on the song, not the artist or specific recording! The tracks referenced are the original artist, aside from a few rare cases where a cover is the most widely known.

Lyrics, videos, info, and notable covers under the cut. (Spotify playlist available in pinned post)

Time After Time

Written By: Cyndi Lauper & Rob Hyman

Artist: Cyndi Lauper

Released: 1984

Cover included: Iron & Wine, 2016

Written by Lauper, with assistance from Rob Hyman, “Time After Time” is one of the all-time great love ballads. It was Lauper’s first #1 hit and arguably her signature song. After Lauper had already recorded the large majority of her debut album—She’s So Unusual—her producer Rick Chertoff insisted she needed “one more song.” Chertoff introduced her to Hyman and they began working on the song. Lauper came up with the title while reading TV Guide—Time After Time was a 1979 science fiction movie starring Malcolm McDowell as H. G. Wells, portraying him inventing a time traveling machine. Lauper’s label initially wanted this song to be her first single before she convinced them to go with “Girls Just Want To Have Fun.” In her memoir, Lauper recounts: “When the album was completed, the label wanted the first single to be “Time After Time.” But I kept saying to them, “Listen to me—releasing a ballad first defines you in a certain way. You become known as a balladeer, and it can kill your career.”

[Verse 1] Lyin' in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you Caught up in circles Confusion is nothing new Flashback, warm nights almost left behind Suitcase of memories Time after [Verse 2] Sometimes you picture me I'm walkin' too far ahead You're callin' to me I can't hear what you've said Then you say, "Go slow," I fall behind The second hand unwinds [Chorus] If you're lost, you can look and you will find me Time after time If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting Time after time If you're lost, you can look and you will find me Time after time If you fall, I will catch you, oh, I'll be waiting (I will be waiting) Time after time [Verse 3] After my picture fades And darkness has turned to gray Watchin' through windows You're wondering if I'm okay Secrets stolen from deep inside The drum beats out of time [Chorus] If you're lost, you can look and you will find me Time after time If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting Time after time [Bridge] You say, "Go slow," I fall behind The second hand unwinds [Chorus] If you're lost, you can look and you will find me Time after time If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting Time after time If you're lost, you can look and you will find me Time after time If you fall, I will catch you, oh, I'll be waiting (I will be waiting) Time after time [Outro] Time after time Time after time Time after time Time after time Time after time Time after time Time after Time

Summertime

Written By: Mikey Way, Ray Toro, Gerard Way & Frank Iero

Artist: My Chemical Romance

Released: 2010

“Summertime” is a ‘new wave’ song, allegedly believed to be written about frontman Gerard Way’s wife, Lyn-z Way. In an interview, Gerard said that it started as a riff Mikey had written, before evolving into a song they ‘couldn’t have the record without.’ “[“Summertime”] is one of the lyrically personal songs on the album, whereas the rest of it is just me talking about my worldview. So it’s a really beautiful song and again—no rules. We can have a soft song.”

[Verse 1] When the lights go out Will you take me with you And carry all this broken bone Through six years down In crowded rooms and highways I call home? Is something I can't know till now Till you picked me off the ground With brick in hand, your lip-gloss smile Your scraped-up knees and [Chorus] If you stay, I would even wait all night Or until my heart explodes, how long until we Find our way in the dark and out of harm? You can run away with me anytime you want [Verse 2] Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down Turn my headphones up real loud I don't think I need them now 'Cause you stop the noise and [Chorus] If you stay, I would even wait all night Or until my heart explodes, how long until we Find our way in the dark and out of harm? You can run away with me anytime you want [Post-Chorus] Well, anytime you want Well, anytime you want [Guitar Solo] [Bridge] Don't walk away, don't walk away Don't walk away, don't walk away! [Chorus] 'Cause if you stay, I would even wait all night Or until my heart explodes, how long until we Find our way in the dark and out of harm? You can run away with me [Post-Chorus] Or you can write it on your arm You can run away with me Anytime you want

[peantbutter-honeycombs]

Can you perhaps do a part 3 to your vox machina x child reader series something about a reveal of the readers race or something or perhaps a continuation of the story if that’s ok with you I just love your vox machina shots

Being a child member of Vox Machina and… | Vox Machina x child reader Pt. 3

Summary | Kid’s got some issues and so does Vox.

A/N | Sorry this took so long been getting into campaign 2 trying to decide if I want to do a child reader for that.

Genre | platonic, angst, fluff, mystery?

Warnings | death, descriptions of blood and violence, panic attack

Initially, you hadn’t been bitter. You didn’t fit the image one was expected to present for such a dignified social event. Not even considering your age, you were small, gangly, freckled and with hair that couldn’t keep its place. You didn’t/wouldn’t belong in a high-profile party.

Still, the joint excitement of Vox Machina had somewhat infected you. Now you found yourself wanting to attend the high-profile event. To combat your pouty face, Keyleth did your hair. Grog offered you ale, which Pike immediately shut down, and Vax tried peek-a-boo with his cloak. Ultimately, it was Percy’s promise to recount everything you’d be missing so long as you were brave and good that placated you.

Vex, you didn’t understand, was a nervous wreck. Leaving you in the keep, with no one to watch after you. Though, you would have Trinket. 

It took multiple assurances from Vax and Percy before they were able to take their leave. You had the keep to yourself.

You crept with Trinket into Grog’s room. Tied only with Vex’s room, you considered his to be one of the most comfortable. With the stash of fur pelts, warm temperature and large bed, it was the perfect place to settle down until Vox returned.

After some time you heard the door, the entry to the keep open, sitting on Trinket’s back you rode to the entry. Your excitement fled upon seeing the seven in shackles, escorted by a small march of guards. In a blink, you paint yourself as a hapless child who’d only just woken. Jarrett, sympathetic to your guise, apologized for the late intrusion, explaining the terms of Vox’s arrest.

House arrest, it could be worse. Allura had essentially grounded the lot of you. Well, not you. According to Jarett, she had clarified that you were allowed to roam freely with proper adult accompaniment and so long as you returned home at a proper time.

The keep was swept clean and all the team’s weapons confiscated, including Scanlan’s instrument. Fortunately, your room was left in peace. Still, you were upset greatly watching the guards tether Trinket to a tree.

Ordered by the Sovereign to remain confined in the keep, there was nothing to do but wait. After assuring you everything would be alright, Vex passed you off to Keyleth silently mouthing an instruction to shield your ears. A thick ornate crown of lush flowers decorated your hair. 

You had caught bits of what had gone down at the feast. Vax feared himself turning into a vampire. Scanlan had a book to translate. Pike was quiet. According to Grog, the food was decent.

You weren’t the type with a keen sense of smell. It was your ears that performed unnaturally well. If a tree fell in the forest and no one was around to hear it, you would. Even with Keyleth’s floral muffler, you were able to discern the biting conversation between Percival and Vex’ahlia. 

Something or other about people killing Percy’s family. To be honest, you were more intrigued by the book left open on the table. 

There were whispers, multiple voices at once, emanating from the dark pages. Their voices sounded distant, their words imperceptible, and yet at the same time crystal clear. Their raspy hissing voices, infecting your mind.

Stress flares up in your head. There is a moment you feel it; the fog beginning to clear. Memories starting to take shape, though still blurred like an old painting. In this moment, as certain figures began to take shape, you could feel a deep sadness traveling through every cell.

“Y/n, Magpie, are you alright?”

Vax’s voice disrupted the whispers. He had, at some point, moved. Now he knelt, crouched beside Keyleth, attention focused on you. His eyes carried a gentle concern.

Keyleth brushes a thumb across your cheeks. It’s then you realize you’re crying. Cold, silvery tears came as a frigid flood, uncontrolled and unwanted. It hadn’t been until the tender hand wiped away some of the tears that you even realized you were crying. You had no reason to, right? So you didn’t understand why you were.

Glancing to the side, over Vax’s shoulders, you notice the other members of Vox standing around the door. Percy’s peering out around the door, canvassing the corridor on the other side.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” Vax offered gently, extending his arms for you to jump into.

A decision had been reached between the members of Vox. You’d be breaking out. They were forced to escape under the darkness of shadow from their own keep. 

Vox concluded your silent tears were the consequence of claustrophobia. A fear they understandably assumed you had, as you had been held in captivity for who knows long prior to meeting them.

This, unfortunately, was not the case.

All the while, as they twisted through the secret tunnels below the keep, you held on to Vax, trying to sort through the deluge of memories still just out of focus. The harder you tried, the more your lips trembled, tears pooling from your eyes.

Jarrett stood with a group of his men at the exit of the passage. Once again, the members of Vox found themselves under the escort of the guard. This time, though, you were all split. Vax, Vex and Scanlan had been pushed into the kitchen; Percy and Keyleth into the Percy’s workshop; Grog and Pike into the chapel. 

Jarrett decided you would stay in the common area, as he believed there was little chance any of the members of Vox would try escaping without you. If only you believed that.

Fortunately, this was the room where they stored the colored chalk. 

You needed to calm yourself. You stopped trying to restore the diluted memories. It made your head pound and heart sting. Instead, you settled on the stone floor and began to draw.

You could hear the whispers of a conversation between the two guards. One was complimenting your rudimentary artistic skills while also making little suggestions on how you could improve. The other was telling their partner to shut it. When the two fell silent, you looked over at them. You then extended your hand, a blue piece of chalk held between your fingers. An invitation.

Your ears twitched. You left your spot and moved to the window. As you went, you could hear an argument between the two guards over their cross hatching techniques. They did not choose the right career path.

Outside, you could hear the nervous whines of Trinket. Something was out there. Whispered hisses, not unlike those you heard emanating from the book, circled the keep. And there were screams. The kind of screams that had a raw intensity that warned of threat, and cried out of desperate need.

Moreover, there was this creeping feeling as if a dark presence was looming in your periphery, breathing icy clouds on the back of your neck. It was giving you goosebumps and a feeling of gut wrenching wrongness.

You sped to the door, only to discover the larger wooden doors were locked, and you didn’t have the key. “Slow down there, kiddo. We’re on strict orders not to let you leave this room until further notice.” One of the two guards spoke. 

Your eyes narrowed, spotting the set of brass keys looped on their hip.

Your small hands pound on the door of the workshop, your little voice calling out to Percy and Keyleth, who you knew were inside. Not a moment later, the doors to the chapel busted out. They slammed against the opposite wall, splintering into pieces.

“Tiny, what’s going on!?”

You explained to Grog, as well as a child your age could you, the unsettling presence you felt closing in. Though your explanation was muddied by some fright filled babbling, both Pike and Grog appeared to take your discomfort seriously.

They rallied the others, gathering the team in the large entry of the keep. Freeing the others from their respective holding rooms, you noted, was suspiciously easy. Surely you hadn’t been the only one left under watch.

There was a discourse. Everyone was confused and on high alert. “Where is everybody?” You spoke aloud, your soft voice managing to capture Vox’s attention despite their loud conversation.

Soon after you posed the question, Jarret and three of his soldiers retreated into the building, hurriedly locking the door behind them. Immediately, they placed the blame on Vox, which you guessed was fair. But this time all in the party were, in fact, blameless.

The true assailants hid in the shadows above. Wraiths, beings who take pleasure in watching the life drain from their victims, were perched in the rafters watching the lot of you. Like predators stalking their prey. There was barely time to take arms before they took initiative and lunged for the group.

Nevermind the two guards brutally kill, it was their targeted attack on Scanlan from which Vox realized they were after the book. Eyes rolled back black inky ichor pooling from his mouth, ears, and eyelids. Vex moving quickly, grabbed the fallen spell book and passed it to Keyleth just as a wraith bled into her body.

You would be having nightmares about this.

Gathering the injured members, Vox and the last guard to remain, Jarret retreated into the war room. You were trapped. As Vex pointed out, they needed a way to fight it. You could hear the rasping, cold, hollow screams of the wraiths, even as they grew quieter, on the other side of the door.

Jarret passed Vex and Vax weapons, though even you knew such arms would be useless. Vax had tried in vain to cut through them with his dagger when they had wrenched through Scanlan. Unfortunately, their bodies were amorphous dark fluid shadows harmlessly cut through.

You had faced many threats in your time with Vox Machina. Mere days ago they’d defeated a dragon. Something about these assailants, perhaps their connection with the book, made you want to jump right out of your skin. It was paralysing. There was this foreign yet all too familiar feeling of being insignificant. Shaking, terrified, you straighten your posture awaiting the blow, you for an inexplicable reason expected to come.

You felt a hand grip your shoulder. Your defensive instincts kicked in. You went straight for the wrist, biting into what you registered as a threat. Both fortunately and unfortunately, it was only Vax. Luckily, your bite had only been a warning, no fangs.

He recoiled, his brain stuttering for a moment. He wasn’t sure what threw him more, the two puncture marks on his wrist beginning to ooze crimson or the pure look of unmatched terror in your eyes.

You had been crying earlier over what he still wasn’t sure. He’d wiped your tears and held you close. Vox had heard your pained screams and witnessed fear take over you, sending you running to hide behind one of them for safety. This terror, this raw intense dread that crippled you completely, was new.

There is a scream. Keyleth is dragged up the wall, ichor streaming from her eyes and mouth. Then the candles blow out. In one swift movement, Vax pushes you beneath the table, then ready’s himself for the inevitable battle. He'd bring up your bite later.

The sounds of Vox’s violent acts are flooded out by the noise of your heart beating in your chest. It’s the sound of war drums on the horizon, each beat taking up pace growing louder. Buh-Bum. Buh-Bum. Buh-Bum.

Silence. After a cacophony of vicious screams, the keep goes still. You feel the chill in your blood, the coldness that brought the synapses of your brain to a stand still, begin to subside. Still, your thoughts were so scattered that functioning was challenging.

“(Y/n), darling?” Vex calls out, kneeling down to see you below the table. Noting your state, she slackened her composure, her battle hardened face softened. “(Y/n), dear, I believe you’re having a panic attack. We don’t have to stay here, darling. Would you like to leave?” She offered, carefully extending a hand. You nodded and allowed her to lead you out.

The fresh air was nice and the cool breeze tickled your exposed skin. Vex stayed by your side while the others quickly gathered what was needed. Jarret had decided to release Vox against the orders of the king and allow them to handle whatever manner of being had realised such terrifying assailants.

Leaned in against Vex’s side, you were soothed by her gentle heartbeat. Trinket laid close on your other side enough so that you could stroke his fur. You had barely lifted an arm in battle. Your only true action being disarming the guards that’d watched over you, an act you’d later learned, saved their lives. Still, you were exhausted.

As things were being put into order, Vax approached, scratching at the two marks you’d left in his wrist. “(Y/n), is everything alright? Are you okay?” He asks, crouching to match your height. He was concerned you could read it on his face.

“Those things, those wraiths. You wouldn’t let them take me too, would you?”

“I believe they were only after the—" Vax begins to remind, however, he stops himself when he notices the desperate look on your face. It happens sometimes. Vox forgets you’re just a child. He flashes you one of those charming-gentle-Vax’ildan smiles. “You know we’d rip any monsters apart before we’d let them hurt you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to give him a hug. “I apologise for biting you. I won’t do it again.” You whisper, relaxing into his embrace so fully it’s as if you’d melted together.

“Eh, it’s okay, Magpie. I’ve suffered worse.” Vax shrugs, peeling away from the hug. 

"Now you ready to go kill some vampires?”

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 12: Sleep

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, cheating/infidelity, smoking, alcohol use, smut, oral sex (V), PIV sex, daddyyyy, dirty talk, lotta lotta fluff, nightmares, rape and murder mention (canon), PTSD, making shit up about Javi’s background, recounting a suicide attempt (towards the end- I marked around where it starts by bolding a line of text that says "You do?" just in case you wanna skip over that)

Chapter Summary: Our heroes have a sleepover (part two)

Notes: Chapter title from "Sleep" by my fave band My Chemical Romance. Early because fuck it idk. Small note: If you notice that I miss a tag/CW/TW, feel free to let me know so I can add it. I know suicide attempts are a pretty hard hitting trigger, which is why I'm notating that one specifically. Thank you for reading, I appreciate you! I'll post next chapter on Sunday 8/31!

[ First Chapter ] [ Previous Chapter ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

Peña Ranch, Laredo, TX June 24, 1998

Dinner with the Peñas was amazing. The barbacoa was fucking delicious, and Javi brought out what he referred to as the good tequila, which was, in fact, very good. While your body attempted to digest the literal fuck ton of food you ate, you sipped tequila and encouraged Chucho to divulge embarrassing stories about Javi while the three of you sat and bullshitted for hours after eating.

Once the sun set, Chucho went to bed. You and Javi sat on the porch, watching a passing thunderstorm miles away. 

The rocking motion you’ve found in the squeaky chair lulls you into a calm. You close your eyes and feel the warm wind graze across your face. There’s a steady roll of thunder growling across the land. You breathe, “I like it out here.”

“Yeah? Do you like the country?”

“I do. It’s peaceful,” you open your eyes and look over at him, “Where would you live if you could live anywhere?”

“You first.”

“Somewhere that has seasons. It feels weird when there’s not snow on Christmas. Or autumn leaves in the fall, all the colors. I miss it,” you cock your head to the side.

“Sounds… cold.”

“You get used to it, mostly. When I was little, my grandma would watch me a lot, and I remember during snowstorms she would always make me and my cousins sauerkraut and dumplings or tater tot hotdish-“

“Tater tot hotdish?” he crinkles his nose in judgment, then lights a cigarette.

“Yes! Don’t knock it til ya try it. It’s classic Minnesota. I’ll make it for you sometime,” you glance at him and attempt winking.

It's pretty twitchy and shouldn't be considered a wink, but thankfully he just shakes his head as he smiles , “Deal. Anyway, snowstorms…”

Your eyes light up as you remember what you were saying, “We’d watch movies and eat warm food and not worry about going anywhere, because it’s not like we could get out of the driveway even if we wanted to. It was cozy and… it felt like home, you know? Comfort and warmth, even though there’s a fucking blizzard out the front door.”

“That sounds nice,” he rumbles, watching you with admiration as you bask in the nostalgia of it all.

Something dawns on you, and you can’t swallow the words before they come out, “That’s how I feel when I’m with you.”

He blows a cloud of blue smoke away from you, then swallows hard as he searches your face. You (unsuccessfully) try to stay calm when your heart starts pounding so loud you can hear it, and you swear you feel the impending doom of his rejection, when he replies with a knowing nod, “Like your favorite blanket when you’re a kid. Safety, warmth, comfort.”

A lump forms in your throat and you breathe, “Exactly.”

The two of you look back off into the distance. A soundwave of thunder reaches the porch, rolling from lightening flitting across the sky like a strobe light.

"I like mountains. I'd live somewhere with mountains and seasons," you tell him finally, answering the initial question, "You?"

"I like that answer. I'm stealing it."

"You can't just steal my answer," you scoff.

"It's done. Stolen," he grins at you and shrugs, "I figure if you're there I'll like it."

Your face heats up as you blush and you roll your eyes bashfully at him, "That's very cute so I'll give you a pass on stealing."

His free hand reaches out to you, and you hold it. You sit there for a while, fingers laced, silent except the squeaking of the rocking chairs, and eventually the grind of a cigarette against an ash tray. You look over and observe him, holding your hand contently, thumb rubbing against your palm, rocking, and watching the storm. There’s this feeling in your body that you’re not used to experiencing. You feel… full. Like if the world ended right now you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here.

Is this happy?

“Today has been the best day I’ve had in years. Maybe since I came to Texas,” you tell him quietly.

Maybe ever. How fucking sad is that?

He turns his head to you, eyebrows drawn together, fingers pressed against his lips.

"Thank you, Javi."

Your eyes flick down to his mouth, then back up to his dark eyes. His eyebrow quirks suggestively, just barely detectable. You bite your bottom lip and pull him towards you into a kiss. It’s an awkward angle and you’re only able to give him a strained peck before he gets up out of the chair and kneels down between your legs.

His hands cup your face, then he presses his mouth against yours. You feel his tongue skirt along your lip and grant him access with a whimper. The noise sets a fire in him, his movements becoming more ravenous. A hand moves to the nape of your neck and grabs a fistful of hair, tilting your head back and exposing your throat. You pant and moan into the night when he starts lapping and sucking at your neck. It feels divine letting him have his way with you.

As if he can read your mind, when you try to run a hand through his hair, he snatches your wrist and holds it down to your lap firmly. An intoxicating shudder runs down to your pussy, making you whimper.

“Can you do something for me, baby?” he whispers into your ear. You’re so hyper sensitive, just his breath against you, blowing across his saliva coating your neck, sends goosebumps across your skin and you bite back a moan.

“Anything you want,” you whisper, looking into his eyes and nodding frantically.

This was, apparently, the correct answer, as it elicits a groan from Javi, eyes gleaming, before he tells you, “I want both your hands on the top rail of the chair.”

You draw your eyebrows together and bite your bottom lip, then blindly feel around the chair above your head. Once you find it, you hold tight.

“Perfect,” he praises you and lays a wet kiss on your neck, sucks gently. You gasp and quiver in response. He chuckles, running a finger from the column of your throat, down into your cleavage, “You’re fucking perfect.”

The statement flips your stomach upside down, and you want him so fucking bad it hurts. Your skin is aching like you’ve been starved for touch. Panting, you beg him, “Touch me, baby, please please I need it. I need you.”

He lets go of your hair and pulls your tank top up until he can tuck it behind your head, leaving you exposed to the night. He groans as he stuffs your tit in his mouth. Each flick of his tongue against your nipple sets your nerves on fire. A moan rips from your throat, “That’s so good daddy- thank you, holy fuck -”

He responds enthusiastically, moving to the other side and moaning as he engulfs you. He’s drunk with lust; Sucking, licking, nibbling, then moving to the other one and repeating you until you’re a flushed, breathless, whimpering fucking disaster. Your chest is covered in his spit, glistening in the dim glow of the porch light.

“Javi, please pleaseplease, daddy-“ you mewl, thrusting against his chest to get any kind of friction on your pussy, who is begging, crying, for attention.

His lips meet yours for a passionate kiss. You meet his gaze as he pulls back and he looks so fucked , it somehow turns you on even more. You’re sure the feeling is mutual, judging by the way his eyes run over your face, then he immediately starts yanking your shorts off.

Despite your squirming, he stops to admire you after tossing your bottoms to the side, “Wow, look at you,” he breathes, splaying his fingers on the top of your thighs, trailing along your goosebumped flesh up to your hips, “You’re so fucking wet for me,” skims his thumbs on either side of your engorged lips, causing you to moan and buck against him. He inhales sharply, “I need you to do something else for me, cariño.”

“I’ll do whatever you want, I'll do anything for you,” you plead. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you fucking need him. He could ask you to murder someone for him, and you would agree to it right now, anything for him to give your cunt the attention it needs.

“Scoot forward, bring your hands to the armrests, and let me help with your feet.” he tells you firmly. The chair creaks as you adjust and bring your ass to the edge of the seat, then your numb forearms flat against the arm rests. He coos, “Perfect, babygirl,” he adjusts your ankles so they wrap around the chair legs, guiding you in a gentle pedagogical fashion, “Ok now just hold on.”

“Wha-“ you start, only to be cut off by your own moan as his tongue delves in between your lips. You melt into a daze when he starts rocking the chair and you move up and down on his flattened tongue. You can’t even form a coherent thought, babbling fractions of words and moaning. He doesn’t increase or decrease the rhythm and speed he’s rocking, just a maddeningly consistent pace as your clit drags against his tongue.

“Javi I- fuck, I-“ the words evaporate and transform into moans as your heart starts pounding and you feel pleasure mounting inside. As much as you want to grab his hair and grind against him until you cum, he asked you so nicely, and you want to be his good girl. So you take a shuddered breath and whimper, keeping your body as he wants it as his tongue tip toes you right up to the very edge, then hurls you into an orgasm that makes you forget your own fucking name. Ecstasy absorbs you and you’re unable to stop yourself from grabbing two fistfuls of his hair so you can press your convulsing cunt against his now frantic tongue. He devours you, lapping up everything he can as he moans.

In an unparalleled smooth move, you slip off the edge of the chair and land on the floor. You groan, “Ow.”

“Are you ok?” he asks, scooping you up against him protectively. Instead of answering, you pull him against you for a kiss, savoring the taste of you in his mouth, on his skin, in his mustache.

“I love when you taste like me, when you smell like me, it’s like- like you’re mine,” you tell him breathlessly.

“I am- I am yours,” he husks, pulling your sweaty, naked body against him, kissing you until your passion is renewed. Which is all of about 3 second after he utters those words. You tug impatiently at his shirt, trying to unbutton it without moving your mouth from his. When you get it, you pull it off of him and move so he can get his pants off. You turn around so your ass is facing him, leaning against the rocking chair. His fingers dig into your waist as he eases his throbbing cock inside you, which isn’t difficult considering how fucking lubricated you are.

A choked sob rips from you as he occupies every single corner of your pussy, then starts thrusting into you hard and fast. Neither of you can formulate words, just feral panting and moaning. The two of you are vibrating on the same frequency, following your instincts doing what feels right. Fuck it feels so right.

Without breaking his pace, he pulls you up so your back is against his chest, holding you there with one hand while the other moves down to your clit and starts rubbing circles around it. The contact draws a guttural moan from your lips as you push back onto him. His breath starts to sound shaky and his movements get a bit more frenzied. The static under your skin starts to grow and grow, a swell so consuming, you’re unable to make a sound or even breathe until the wave breaks. When it does, your whole body convulses and your knees clamp together. A noise you don’t even recognize as your own flies from your mouth. He sputters out a moan as he works through his own mind-shattering orgasm, filling you with his seed.

Panting, his arms slacken and wrap around your belly, and he pulls you with him as he collapses on the wooden flooring of the porch. You lay there together, heaving and wrecked, brains hazy post-orgasm.

“Wh- how did we end up fucking outside again?” you giggle. He giggles, too. It’s not even funny, but you’re both absolutely delirious.

After recovering, you go inside and get ready for bed, stealing glances at each other as you brush your teeth and go through bedtime routines. In the dark of his bedroom, you crawl in next to Javi, settling with your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, holding you close. Your fingers write loving words onto his bare skin. You can hear his heart beating underneath your ear, proof that this is real. He kisses your forehead and buries his nose in your hair.

Your eyes have already closed and you’ve started to drift off into the comforting void of sleep when he mumbles, “Goodnight, cariño.”

—

When you wake, it’s still dark. Javi is thrashing around underneath the covers beside you, crying out incoherently. As you roll over to face him, you realize his eyes are closed and he’s having some kind of a nightmare. Small whimpers of no no no leave his lips. You sit up, then give him a few firm pats to his chest, whispering his name.

He doesn’t react, but his head starts shaking back and forth as he mumbles something you can’t understand. You take both hands and shake his shoulders aggressively, then stroke his face with your thumb and call out to him, “Javi, baby, wake up-“

He starts whimpering and mumbling, eyes still closed, so you shake him some more to try coaxing him out of the bad dream, a little louder now, “Javier , I need you to wake up, come on.”

His head starts whipping back and forth as he screams, “No no NO!-“

He’s scaring the shit out of you, so you start lightly slapping his face as you beg him to wake up. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you just want whatever is happening to him in his dream to stop. His eyes snap open, unfocused and disoriented at first, then he registers that you’re hovering over him. He blinks a few times and then pulls you down against him into an embrace.

“Oh thank god,” he gasps. You pull back and look at him, running your fingers through his hair to calm him. There are tears running down his cheeks and he’s trembling, sweating, practically hyperventilating. The state of his composure has completely disintegrated.

You roll onto your back and guide him to nuzzle into your bosom while you embrace him and stroke his hair. He collapses into you and starts sobbing, “We had a daughter… and they took you both,” another sob racks his body, shaking the entire bed, “And they killed you front of me. It was so real.”

The panic in his voice breaks your heart.

We had a daughter

Your head spins. For the first time, you let yourself seriously think about your future with him. It’s a mental block you put in place unconsciously, rerouting your train of thought any time the thought lingered for more than a moment.

But now you let it linger. You imagine living with him, marrying him, having his children. Going to sleep with him every night and waking up next to him every morning. It’s so beautiful, your chest aches. And you imagine if you thought that was being ripped away.

“Oh, baby, that’s so scary,” you croak, trying to hold back tears of your own. As you squeeze him tighter and continue to pet him, he gradually comes back to reality.

Eventually he takes a deep breath, gets out of bed, and leaves the room. He comes back a few minutes later with a full glass of water, offering it to you. A smirk cracks across your lips, amused by his thoughtfulness. You thank him and drink half of it, setting the cup on a side table when you’re done. He sits on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped and gaze fixed on the floor. You crawl across the mattress to wrap your arms and legs around him from behind, laying your head against his back.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” he tells you as he covers your hand with his.

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” you assure him, planting a kiss on his spine, then ask, “Are you ok?”

He sighs, “Yeah, I think so. It was just… fuck, so real. Like I was there again.”

“In Columbia?”

“Yeah,” he lets go of your hand and moves to lay back down. You adjust yourself accordingly, laying on your side, ushering him under the covers with you. He gets under the blankets and faces you.

There’s a sheen of nightmare sweat on his forehead, his eyes still haunted. He sweeps a piece of hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear, making eye contact with you, “I was seeing this girl in Columbia. Working girl, if you know what I mean. She was a CI for me, tried to get intel from one of the big players in Escobar’s cartel,” he looks away, “And they figured her out. The things they did to her… I’ll never forgive myself.”

Your eyebrows draw together and you ask in a whisper, “Did they kill her?”

“In a way,” he grabs his pack of cigarettes and an ashtray from the side table, offers a smoke to you, you take it, he lights them, “Can’t say the same for the people that did it to her. They’re all dead, I made sure of it.”

You can’t really formulate any words to adequately respond to this, so you take drags off your cigarette until he continues.

“I saw kids die. Some of them my fault. I- fuck… I held a gun to a kid. It all plays over and over in my head sometimes, I can’t get it to stop. Fucking atrocities,” he runs his hand through his hair, mussing it further, then continues hesitantly, eyes glued to the cherry of his cigarette, “After what happened with Helena especially, I knew that getting attached to people was dangerous. I couldn’t do that to someone I care about again. Put them in harm’s way, you know?“

You nod, recalling the snide comments Dan had made about Javi only having sex with “desperate sluts” and sex workers. It makes sense, you suppose, to not form meaningful connections, when you know they could be used in such an insidious way. You both snuff your cigarettes out in the ashtray, so he moves it back to the side table and rolls over on his side facing you again.

“But in my dream- after I first met you- you came with me back to Columbia because you were pregnant. We got married. We named our daughter Rosemary after my mom-“

“- that’s my grandma’s name.” you interject, unable to stop yourself.

He smiles, making your heart skip several beats, “Really?”

You nod, suppressing your own smile, “Sorry, anyway, continue.”

“After Gilberto was arrested, both of you were kidnapped and held hostage by the Cali cartel. When I found you, they slit both your throats in front of me,” he swallows hard and looks at you with the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen, “It was so fucking real… horrible. Fuck .”

“I’m sorry baby,” you whisper, then rub your thumb against his cheek affectionately. You bite the inside of your cheek, then take a deep breath and say softly, “I know what it’s like to have nightmares like that.”

“You do?”

“The ones that feel so real, from the worst time in your life, and you’re living it again? Yeah,” your hands run absentmindedly across his skin as you talk. His hand rests on your waist as he listens intently. When you meet his gaze, he nods, urging you to continue, so you do, “I’m in my bathroom at my dad’s house. I’m… I’m bleeding out on the floor and he won’t stop screaming at me,” a lump rises in your throat, tears burn behind your eyes, “telling me what a fucking failure I am. How ashamed he is to have me as a daughter,” you sniffle, then clear your throat, “I can’t move because I’m so weak. My brothers and my stepmom are in the bathroom watching, but not saying anything.”

“Why are you bleeding?” he asks hesitantly.

“I- I did it to myself,” you choke out, barely a whisper, and pull your trembling hands back to show him the knotted scar tissue on your wrists where they were sewn back together. He holds one of your wrists in a delicate manner, like it’s something fragile, traces the scar with his fingertips, then presses his lips against it. Like his adoration could heal you.

While most people have seen them and averted their eyes, promptly taken steps back as if your insanity were contagious…heard your story and laughed nervously, then tried change the subject… he looked at the scars, which you’ve always seen as hideous reminders of your mental instability, and… he kissed them. As if to say, your scars are beautiful too, because they’re yours.

“It was back when I was 15. I was in a bad place,” you scoff at yourself, “Obviously. Like, I was so depressed I couldn’t feel… anything. For weeks. I visited my mom the weekend before and she tried fist fighting me when she was shit faced, said really nasty things to me. My dad had been making snide comments about how I was acting depressed for attention. And I just didn’t want to do it anymore, you know?”

He nods solemnly, lacing his fingers with yours. Your face contorts with the nostalgic misery that comes with this memory, and you whisper, “My little brother found me. My stepmom held me together the best she could until the ambulance arrived,” your body rattles as you try to suppress a sob, “I just remember him screaming at me. He fucking lost it. Calling me names. Telling me that if I make it I need to get the fuck out of his house. How fucking disappointing I am.”

You gather the courage to look up at Javier, half expecting him to be uncomfortable at the confession. But his nostrils are flared, lips pursed, frown lines defined.

“He didn’t kick me out when I was released from the psych ward. In fact, he didn’t talk about the incident at all. It’s as if it never happened,” you sniffle again, then frown, “Except, my stepmom and brothers have never looked at me the same way. Interacting with me was an obligation. My stepmom used to be closer to me than either of my birth parents. She could barely look at me afterwards. I think… I think she hates me for making her son see me like that.”

“Because that’s what you want to do when someone is suicidal. Ostracize them,” Javi bites off. It’s kind of endearing how visibly furious he’s getting on your behalf.

“Yeah… yeah it sucked a lot.”

It’s quiet for a while. He looks deep in thought as he studies the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You watch his studious expression, content to sit here forever even if he doesn’t say anything else. You’re not expecting anything. Just enjoying his presence.

“I’m glad you stuck around,” he whispers, face softening as he focuses back in the moment, looking up to meet your eyes, stroking your hair.

You nod in response and the corners of your mouth upturn. You expected to feel much more cagey after peeling back this layer of yourself, but instead it brings you comfort. For once in your life, you honestly say out loud, “I’m glad I did, too.”

He kisses your lips and pulls you into his chest. Safety, warmth, comfort.

It crosses your mind that recently you’ve developed another recurring nightmare. The one where you’re tied up and can’t move. Can’t see anything. Entrenched in darkness when you hear floorboards creak. It happens again, closer. Footsteps? Terror grips your heart. Is it someone or something ? When you try to cry out, a thick wad of fabric muffles your screams. You gag on it and struggle to catch your breath as panic crawls across your chest. The creaking stops. It’s so quiet, the only thing you can hear is your own gasping breath.

You shake the thought out of your head, then wipe your wet face on his comforter. Immediately realizing that might be disgusting, you wince, “Sorry for using your duvet as a tissue.”

He chuckles, “It’s fine,” then more seriously, “Do- do you want to talk about it more?”

The thought makes your stomach churn, and you frown, “No. I’d rather cuddle with you.”

He nods and yawns, then the two of you move around until you settle into big spoon (Javi) and little spoon (you). In the haze of looming sleep, you take a deep breath and think out loud, “I like the name Rosemary.”

“I do, too.”

The closeness of his skin against yours, holding you securely, makes your entire body radiate with ease until you drift back to sleep.

[ Next Chapter ]

[ikehoe]

Seduction [Clavis Lelouch x Reader][Ikemen Prince][SMUT]

[Clavis Lelouch x Reader] [Ikemen Prince][Smut]

Characters ↬ Clavis Lelouch x Fem! Reader

Rating ↬ Explicit [Smut – mdni]     

Tags ↬ Smut, Gentle PIV, implied first time on Reader’s end, Reader takes the initiative, Suitor is tied up (willingly), Blowjob 

Warning ↬ Unprotected PIV 

Description ↬ Contrary to everyone in Rhodolite’s beliefs, the third Prince, Clavis Lelouch, has been the perfect lover for you. Attentive, almost to a fault, fun-loving (depends on your definition of fun), and loves you more than you could have ever imagined. The only thing you can complain about is his reluctance to go all the way. That isn’t to say you haven’t done plenty, but it seems like every time you two are about to cross that line, he seems to pull back and focus on you instead. So now you’re on a mission to get to the bottom of this (and to the next level).  

A/N ↬ This fic was born out of my horny thoughts after reading Clavis’ engagement story. I highly recommend you check it out! Apparently, our favourite prankster is actually a GENTLEMAN! Anyways, hope you enjoy it. :)

Tag List ↬ @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @randonauticrap @violettduchess @atelier-maroron @otomegameinlove

Disclaimer ↬ I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games. 

Wordcount ↬ 3k

Your hands were busy, toiling away at the dough that would eventually become the sweet delicacies that your lover so often craved. However, your mind was elsewhere, recounting the events from two nights ago. The way Prince Clavis’ large hands skated so delicately across your skin, lips pressing the gentlest of kisses down your body until he reached your legs, lavishing you again and again with his warm tongue. His gentleness in handling you was something that you weren’t used to at first. After all, the one thing that every inhabitant of the Rhodolite castle could agree on was Prince Clavis’ nickname of Hellcat. But it was different with you. He was different with you. It was like he was a man possessed with thoughts of nothing but you, and as much as you felt guilty about consuming the third Prince’s mind, a part of you reveled in it. You couldn’t even count with your fingers and toes how many times Clavis had appeared in your room at night and proceeded to spend hours upon hours caressing you, leaving his mark on you, making sure you were fully satisfied. The wanton moans that escaped your lips during his visits were things you couldn’t even think of without turning a brilliant shade of vermillion. 

But, despite how attentive your lover was, despite how generous he was, he never seemed to want to take that next step with you. Oh, you’d tried. Numerous times. Throwing aside all semblance of your pride, you’d once surprised him after he came back from his daily duties, dropped down onto your knees before him, and began to weave your delicate little fingers through the mess of contraptions that was his belt, only to be immediately swept up by the Prince and gently placed onto his couch. The situation immediately reversed, and he dug into the apex of your thighs with his tongue, bringing you to the peak of pleasure again and again until you had completely forgotten about your plans to spoil him for once. 

Not this time. You were solid in your resolve to bring things to the next level. The amount of thought and preparation you’d put into this plan of seduction was no easy feat. You’d be hard-pressed to admit it, but you likely spent too much time not paying attention to your studies and trying to imagine what scenario Clavis would most likely crumble under. You’d even asked Jin for help, receiving dubious advice to wear some very low-cut, cleavage-showing corsets and tops. Thankfully, he’d finally given you some useful advice and suggested a small town square boutique with a secret section in the back of outfits designed to stoke desire within your partner. 

And that’s how you ended up in this current situation, wearing scraps of silk and lace that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. To the tailor’s credit, every silken scrap of clothing on your body did the perfect job at accentuating your assets. The fabric fell perfectly against your bosom and highlighted the perkiness of your rear, but the cherry on top was the lace garter that came with the outfit that hugged the flesh of your upper thigh in all the right ways. You knew even Clavis, with his odd resolve, wouldn’t be able to resist this. What was even more thrilling were the fabric handcuffs that the shopkeep insisted you have for free after explaining your embarrassing situation. 

“I promise, I promise. Even the strongest-willed man won’t be able to resist begging you to feel something after you tie him up with these!” 

You sure hoped that the shop-keep was right. The sound of Clavis’ bedroom door opening kicked you into high gear and you immediately shuffled around, pulling on your night robe and arranging yourself into a perfectly inconspicuous pose on the couch in his bedroom. 

“Clavis! You’re back!” You exclaimed, excitement and nerves rampant in your expression. 

His signature smirk had butterflies running through your stomach, and you couldn’t help but return it with a smile of your own. You didn’t miss the way his golden eyes raked over your body, taking in the unusual robe covering you. His gaze lingered for a beat too long on your shapely legs. The way he regarded you was not unlike a beast that would size up its prey before pouncing. The barely concealed heat behind his gaze caused a warmth to spread through your core, and you knew it was now or never for your plan, lest you spend another night being ravaged by Clavis instead of the other way around. 

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. And here I thought I would have to be the one to surprise you in your bedroom today, yet here you are,” he drawled, approaching you with the grace of a jungle cat. It took you a long time to get used to the peculiar way your lover showed affection for you, but behind that mischievous smirk and heated gaze, you could see his love clear as day. 

“Wait! Close your eyes,” you cried out, both hands raised in the air as you willed your lover to go along with your little plan. 

The smirk momentarily slipped off your lover’s face in favour of confusion. “Why?” His eyebrows furrowed, then half a beat later, his usual smirk returned to his handsome, delicate features. 

“I… I want to play a game with you. Please sit down over there!” You exclaimed. The nerves you were experiencing were evident in your voice, and you prayed that for once in his life, your lover would just listen to something someone else said without any additional questions. “It’ll be fun, I promise!” 

And he’d be damned if he wasn’t intrigued by what you were up to. Your flushed cheeks highlighted just how adorably inexperienced you were. That thin robe did little to cover up the silhouette of your body and your suspiciously revealing clothing underneath. It seemed like you’d even applied a heavier hand with your makeup today. Your perfectly plump lips were darker than usual, the red of an apple dipped into a glaze of sugary syrup. All he could think about was how irresistible you were. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when Clavis began to make his way leisurely over to the couch, one hand playfully covering his striking eyes. It was now or never. You took the chance and pounced, grabbing his wrists with your tiny hands and pressing them over his head. The speed you tied a knot binding his wrists together would have put even the best sailor to shame. After all, you were motivated by your drive to see your lover come apart for you.

At the sudden movement, Clavis’ eyes widened momentarily, and he gazed down at you. Although clear alarm bells were ringing through his head, it wasn’t to the point where he felt like he wanted to stop this little ruse just yet. 

Before he could open his mouth to question you, you pressed your lips against his, gently peppering kisses against him repeatedly until that urge inside you to turn it into more began to spread throughout your body. His eyes were half-lidded, looking up at you with all the affection in the world, and you began to slowly slip the robe off of your shoulders, revealing inch-by-inch of your soft skin. Thankfully, the shopkeep’s words seemed to ring true as your lover’s eyes were glued to your every action. His gaze even roamed your chest many times, despite him saying that he was not a breast man – though that was before he’d seen yours in all their glory. 

By the time you had completely dropped your robe, Clavis’ mouth was watering in anticipation, wanting to feast on your delicate skin and honeyed core until both you and him were satisfied. Instead, however, you seemed intent on continuing to play this game. He watched as you lowered yourself until you were at eye level with his crotch, painfully strained against the fabric of his pants. 

“My dearest little bunny, what do you think you’re doing?” He choked out, managing to sound somewhat coherent despite his heart pounding against his chest. When had you become such a seductress? The herculean effort he had to put in was already bad enough, diverting your attention away from that. Still, now you were intent on teasing him? When he first confessed his love for you, he promised to always be the perfect gentleman to you, and the perfect gentleman made sure his lady was always satisfied. He also knew how much your reputation would take a hit just by associating with him, the Hellcat of Rhodolite. So he’d promised himself that until you were wed, he wouldn’t bed you. But now… with you standing in front of him, licking your plush lips with that seductive tongue of yours, all of his resolve seemed to be crumbling away. 

“I just wanted to make you feel good this time, Clavis. After all, you’re always the one making me… you know….” And there it was, that telltale heat rising to your cheeks once more, causing you to shed the seductress façade for a second to shyly look away from Clavis’ intense gaze. You nervously fiddled with his belt for the next couple of minutes before his voice interrupted you from your goal. 

“As much as I’m flattered that you want to spend so much attention on lil’ ole me, gentlemen make sure that their ladies are happy before considering their own happiness. How about you let me run my tongue along those luscious legs before feasting on that pretty little cunt, hm?” The words that rolled off his tongue were positively sinful. 

If you had given it a couple more seconds of thought, you were sure that you’d give in faster than Yves could fall into a trap hole. You quickly shook your head and rid your lover of his pants, watching with bated breath as his impressive manhood sprung up, hard, throbbing, and positively begging for your attention. You tentatively brought your head closer to his length and gave it a kitten lick from the base to the tip, making sure to suck with your mouth so he could feel every movement. 

“Nngh—wait, hold on, I—,” Clavis stammered – actually stammered, while trying to control himself to not immediately release and spill his seed mere seconds after you began. He wasn’t completely inexperienced, but something about you made him feel like he was a pre-pubescent boy who had first seen a pair of shapely, bare legs again. 

Not heeding your lover’s muted warnings, you continued to bob your head up and down on his length until his cock was throbbing. It was odd – you were doing this solely for his pleasure. Still, the warmth that was pooling at your lower belly was starting to become uncomfortable. You were sure if you didn’t get some sort of release in the next ten minutes you would spontaneously combust and end up scrapping this whole idea in favour of begging Clavis to make you feel good. 

“Mm, I want to taste you, Clavis,” you mumbled, purely out of your own selfish whims. You wanted to experience every part of him, including his seed. 

And those were the magic words that had his hips stuttering, thrusting into your mouth while he shot his thick seed into your mouth, over and over. You had heard from your friends that the taste could often be utterly repulsive, but not your Clavis. Apparently, a diet of trying out weird food combinations could do a man good because even swallowing his seed seemed to have an aphrodisiacal effect on you. You squirmed around in your position, kneeling before him, trying to obtain some relief from the wanting in your core. 

“Who knew my little bunny could be this bad? Hm? You even swallowed every last drop of me,” Clavis purred, fingers twitching as he longed to run them through your hair. But that was enough – experiencing the heavenly warmth of being able to release into your pretty little mouth was enough for him. Once again, before he could open his mouth and beg you to take the restraints off of his wrists, you surprised him by standing up and placing yourself on his lap. The softness of your rear pressed up so closely against his groin had his cock stirring to life once more, and he mentally chastised himself for not being able to resist your charms. 

“How about you let me treat you now? It’s only fair,” he groaned, unable to tear his gaze away from yours, especially once you began to gently grind against his muscular thighs. 

“Mm… tempting offer, but how about no?” The slight relief you got from moving yourself up and down against his thigh was euphoric. You were reaching your release embarrassingly quickly with just that little bit of friction. You were sure he could feel how absolutely soaked you were, and even that added to the whole sinfulness of the situation. 

“Please, my love….” Clavis murmured, gaze needy and desperate as he felt your arousal drip down his thighs. 

Gods, you deserved an award for denying your lover when he looked so vulnerable and yielding to your whims. “How about this? I’ll untie your restraints under one condition.” And the way he immediately nodded had you holding back a giggle. “I’ll untie you as long as you promise me you’ll make love to me tonight – and not just … you know, licking me … there… but I want to feel you. All of you.”

It wasn’t surprising that your lover would immediately take you up on your offer, despite hesitating while his rational brain tried to sway him back on the side of preserving your innocence. However, it seemed like his desire for you won out in the end as he eagerly agreed, and you unleashed his hands, only to have him grip your upper thighs tightly and lay you down on the couch. It was almost comical how quickly your roles reversed. He gently ran his finger up and down your folds, collecting your arousal, and then tasted it, uttering an absolutely sinful groan in response. 

“Will you really be so cruel as to not let me taste you tonight?” He grumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead as he looked down at you with as much of a puppy-dog look as he could muster. Which, to Clavis, looked more like a wolf in poorly disguised sheep’s clothing. 

“I want to feel you now, Clavis. You can… do that… later,” you blushed. Then, before you could continue with anything else, he began to press his length against your entrance. The delicious stretch of his manhood was enough to have you squirm underneath him. It stung, but you knew it would, and he immediately stilled to not hurt you anymore. 

“I’m sorry, my little bunny. It’ll only hurt for a little bit more, okay?” He murmured, eyes immediately filling with concern. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to Clavis being sweet with you, but this level of gentleness was something you didn’t see from the third Prince every day. He nuzzled into your neck as though you were the most cherished thing to him. 

After a few seconds of adjusting, you quietly whispered that you were ready. Ever the obliging lover, you felt him slowly ease his manhood into you until he was fully sheathed. There were absolutely no words that could describe how perfect he felt in your core. It was odd – even his length was curved in just the right way to have you seeing stars with just the first push. You couldn’t help the incoherent babble that began to fall from your lips as he continued thrusting into you, hitting that spot in you every single time. If this is what you were missing out on, you would have to have a long talk with Clavis after about his cruelty for depriving you of this pleasure. 

“My gods, you feel better than anything I could ever dream of,” he murmured, eyes furrowed in concentration as he attempted to prolong your first time with him as much as possible. “How am I supposed to think about anything but your little cunt from now on?” It was almost impossible how well your tight walls formed around him and fluttered with every one of his movements. As if he wasn’t obsessed with you and everything about you already. 

“I’m – I’m getting close, Clavis. Please, I want us to come together,” you begged, feeling that heat begin to spread throughout your body. With one final thrust, your walls fluttered around his length, and you were thrown into the most intense release you’d ever experienced in your entire life. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and that radiant hot pleasure had you squirming against your lover’s body, quickly throwing you into oversensitivity as he continued to thrust into you. 

You barely registered your lover’s groan as he released, covering your fluttering walls with his thick, white seed. Then, finally, both of you began to still against each other, fully satiated and gleaming with that post-coital glow. 

Clavis chanced a look down to your face at the sight of you, hair mussed, lips quirked into a small but satisfied smile, and breasts heaving with each deep breath. It was enough to make his heart clench with just how much he loves you. Enough to make him worry that he could never be as good of a man as you deserved despite his best efforts. Enough to keep him up at night, thinking of new ways to make sure you had to rely on him and could never leave his grasp. Enough to make him want to spend every waking second beside you, despite his lifelong goal of wanting to take down Chevalier. Before he could continue spiraling down a path he was familiar with, your gentle voice brought him back to the present. 

“I love you, Clavis,” you cooed, with beautiful, clear eyes reflecting his face. “That was amazing… Why didn’t you want us to do that earlier?” 

“It’s a bit of a shame for me to admit this, my little bunny, but I only ever want to be the perfect gentleman to you. The perfect gentleman doesn’t take away his lover’s innocence until she’s fully committed to him… and so I’ll have to ask for your forgiveness,” Clavis explained, eyes searching for a shred of anger, indignance, or resentment in yours. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve been fully committed since I first accepted your feelings.” 

“I thought we could take it a step further than that, my love. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and I’d rather die than give you up. Will you do me the honours of becoming my wife?” 

And after your teary acceptance, you ended up having a couple more rounds of deliciously passionate, sinful sex with the man you held dearest to your heart. That’s also how you found out that Clavis had chosen an engagement ring for you since the first day you met. Every moment after that was carefully tailored and thought through to ensure that you’d end up falling in love with him. 

And despite your suspicions about whether you actually won your little experiment, it suddenly didn’t matter, as long as he could be by your side for the rest of your life. 

[thetravelerstale]

Don't let my Sunshine fade

Guess who woke up and choose violence again, yup. Me. Let's pretend this isn't related to the fact that I miss someone.

Aether was a stranger to most, aside from his floating companion and the whispers of his deeds, not many actually knew him personally, and those who though they knew him only say the outer surface. That smile that shines just a little to bright to distract from the dullness in his eyes. No one ever saw the scars that begun to collect on his skin, or the way his hair became messier and messier until it looked like knots instead of a braid. No one saw the late nights, when he couldn't even bring himself to look at the moon because it reminded him of his sister too much. Then you had found him, he wasn't sure about you first but you didn't cause him any trouble so he didn't deny your request to join him.

"From the Adventurer's Guild you say? Alright... Oh you traveled with Bennett? Heh, yeah I almost feel bad for him. Oh don't worry! We won't get to into too much trouble." He had given you that same smile, but you saw how it didn't reach his eyes.

He didn't expect much from you honestly, he was just so used to it being him and Paimon. You were an interesting person don't get him wrong, he's just grown a little bit mistrustful of people and by now he's realized anyone would manipulate him if they knew his weakness so he'd listen to you to talk but don't expect him to say much about himself.

You sat at a campfire in Liyue, talking about an adventure you had gone on in Dragonspine that led to you nearly freezing. His laughter seemed so genuine, so warm. You saw he wanted to speak, but he stopped himself.

"Why don't you tell me a story of your adventures? I'm sure you have lots!" You asked with wide eyes, already leaning forward to better hear him. The blond only smiled and shook his head before Paimon begun recounting a fight and he just relaxed again. You've noticed lately his hair hasn't been as messy though.

The two of you had a few fights, mainly about how closed off he was. He didn't understand why you cared so much, and you didn't understand why he didn't care.

"Just drop it already," he groaned, walking away. Always running. He never changed did he?

"Aether." A hand on his shoulder made him pause and turn, golden eyes widening as he saw the look on your face. Fear? Sadness? There were tears, but you also seemed surprised?

He didn't have time to ask however as he found your lips on his. He had been kissed before, some better than this, others were worse but he didn't push you away. He couldn't push you away, because if he did he'd be alone again. So he pulled you closer and closed his eyes, praying to every archon that this wouldn't end.

You were something of a miracle, he decided. You were never truly mad at him and you were never too upset that you would walk away, no matter how many times he told you to leave. You were stubborn, but he liked that.

You were uncompromising when it came to his health, and you didn't let him go days on end without treating his wounds. He was healing. "Hey Y/n?" He looked at your hands that were wrapping bandages around his arm. You hummed in aknowledgement, lifting your head to look into his eyes. They were brighter now than when you had met him. The dark circles weren't as prominent now.

"I ... I love you."

You smiled and kissed his forehead before returning to work on his arm. He didn't need you to say the words back, he had figured out a long time ago how you felt. Why else would you put up with him?

He was hesitant about telling you about him, and most of what he initially told you was stuff you had already picked up on. His fears, his likes, you knew them just from your journey with him but you let him explain them anyways, because this was progress. This was him trusting you.

"Oh did you know that I don't actually like lightning? It used to not bother me honestly but, well I met the Raiden Shogun and... I guess that kinda speaks for itself huh? I even got a pretty sick looking scar from where she struck me with lightning- oh? You wanna see it?"

Maybe it wasn't so bad to open up. Especially when you leaned closer, eyes focused on him with that twinkle. He wondered how you could look so angelic. One morning you had woken him up before the sun had risen and wanted to show him something.

"Shhh, don't wanna wake Paimon," you whispered and grabbed his hand, leading him a few feet away to the edge of a cliff. You sat down and patted the grass, inviting him to sit with you. You both sat there and watched the sunrise together.

"It's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you..."

He turned to look at you, meeting your eyes and blushing. How could you be so genuinely sweet? "You're too sweet you know, makes me wonder some days."

"At least I know I'm on your mind." You hadn't meant for it to sound teasing but he looked down at his hands in his lap, blushing even more. He loved you so much. He truly did.

He healed, he realized one night as he looked at the moon. When had he started doing that again?

The moon hadn't been there when you first met him, but for awhile now he's been admiring the way it's light shines on your skin. The way you slept beside him, holding Paimon as the two of you snored. He gently stroked your cheek, freezing when you begun to stir and sighing when you settled down. "You know, you'd get along with Lumine... You're both so stubborn." He chuckled softly as you slept so peacefully and leaned over to kiss your cheek. "Rest well angel." He then pulled the blanket back over him and laid down once more.

Fate was cruel however, and Teyvat was an unforgiving land. He would have laughed if he wasn't spitting up blood, vision hazey as the flames around him grew higher and higher. Maybe he shouldn't have gone alone. Who was he to take on another archon? He was reckless, and when they had found his weakness he had abandoned rational thought. He really should have gotten a different sword by now. He had the mora for a better one, he should have known that dull blade was going to break after everything it's been through. He pressed a hand to his side, trying to keep pressure on one of his many wounds as he scrambled to sit up. This couldn't be the end could it?

You found him sometime later, a heavy trail of blood led straight to him as he sat under a tree, chest heaving with labored breaths. His eyes, oh how they shined as they saw you, brighter than the sun or any star. A bloody hand reached up to your cheek.

"Angel?"

You hated how his voice shook. How his eyes filled with tears and without a doubt you hated the blood staining his clothes. He was only holding on by a thread. You dropped to your knees beside him, grabbing anything from your bag you thought could help but froze as you felt his cold hands on your wrists.

"Watch the sun with me?"

"Aether..." You looked at him, and you froze. The softness in those eyes- he had already accepted his fate. With a sigh, you moved to sit beside him and he rested his head on your shoulder.

"Did I ever tell you about how my sister and I would watch the sunrise and sunset together before we left a world? She used to drag me to these open grassy fields and we'd cook our favorite meals while we waited for night to come and we'd talk about all our favorite memories of that world."

"That sounds fun... Be sure to tell her about me will ya?" You were glad he couldn't see the tears falling as you messed with his hair.

"She'd love you I think... But don't forget you're my angel." He tried to laugh but it came out as a dry cough, more blood spewing from his mouth.

You watched as the sun set, and the moon rose. Cuddling Aether close you fell asleep with him only to wake up sometime later to a new voice singing. It was a song you had never heard but the source was someone that felt so familiar. Her yellow hair and white dress reminded you of someone and you felt you were dreaming as she sang so softly.

"... You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't let my Sunshine fade away."

She was gone when you woke up the next morning, the only sign she ever existed was a strange flower lying in the grass between you and Aether. The blond smiled as you awoke and kissed your forehead. "Good morning angel." His wounds were healed, by some miracle.

"Morning... Sunshine." You said softly as you rubbed your eyes. Aether's smile only grew wider.

"My sister used to call me that." He hugged you, "But I like it better from you."

[demiclar]

Sleeping In

Sleeping In - Ao3

Osiris finds there are things worth waking up for.

(Season of Plunder Finale spoilers!)

Osiris’ body demanded rest. The potion Mithrax had given him had afforded him the strength to fight off the last dredges of Savathûn’s power, to finally wake after so long lingering below the surface, but now, his body required rest more than anything. His former state had not been restful. As much had become apparent in the time after he’d initially woken, after he’d slipped between sleep and wakefulness enough times to realize his body was weak and in need of a great deal of rehabilitation. After his time as Savathûn’s captive, his comatose state after his rescue had been about survival. He had not healed, or rested, his body had done what it needed to keep him alive, but could manage little else. Now, he was healing.

He spent much of his time sleeping. He found his bed—if he had managed to leave it in the first place—soon after he and Saint had dinner. He didn’t rise until nearly noon, a far cry from the sleep schedules he was used to functioning on during the height of his research. His waking hours were like the moments of sunlight in an Alaskan winter, late to arrive and early to leave. Before his exile from the city, it had felt like there were weeks where he’d have no sleep at all, and now it almost seemed that all he did was sleep. The new needs would be alarming if his body were not responding so positively to it. With Saint ensuring he ate and drank all he could, his strength was returning to him in force, his stability and hazy, clouded memories along with it.

He’d told Saint and the Vanguard what he could of Savathûn’s memories. He told them of the power on Neptune, the secret she knew of there, and whatever else he could make of her thoughts that had clouded his head as his own. He would understand them all in time, he hoped, but there were other, more pressing matters to attend to. There were other reasons not to sleep in.

The first time Osiris had met Crow had not been a formal meeting. He’d been pulled from sleep when the sun was filtering through the curtains, warm morning light brushing over his skin. He’d dozed under it until noise had drawn him out of half-sleep, quiet conversation muted through the door to his and Saint’s bedroom. He couldn’t make out their words, but he’d recognized their voices easily enough. Saint, and the voice of Uldren Sov, the former Prince of the Reef. But that, Osiris knew, was not correct. His tone was kinder, more relaxed, settled in a way Osiris had never heard out of the Prince. It was not his voice Osiris heard, but rather the voice of Crow, the man he’d seen through Savathûn’s eyes, and heard of through Saint’s stories. Savathûn had led him astray when she’d donned her disguise of Osiris’ skin, but still Crow had committed himself to helping Saint, to rescuing Osiris.

Those were not the thoughts on his mind as their words filtered under the door. Rather, Osiris listened to the affection in his Titan’s voice as he rose from their bed and dressed. As weak as he was, finding out how much support had rallied around Saint while Osiris had been captured and unconscious filled Osiris with a new kind of strength. Gratitude welled up in him, as warm as the solar of his Light, since passed. To know that there were others caring for Saint, helping him through his darkest nights settled something in Osiris’ very soul. They had not left even after Osiris had woken, and that too meant the world to him. Crow, Osiris knew, had given more than most.

They did not notice him when he first opened the door to emerge. He watched them from within the doorway. Crow was in the kitchen, making himself a mug of coffee with ease enough to show he’d done so many times before, talking animatedly as he worked. Osiris’ Titan sat at the breakfast bar in front of him, his attention rapt on the Hunter in front of him. A soft smile lit his face, while Crow grinned, recounting a story. It was only when he turned round to set his mug beside the coffee maker that he caught sight of Osiris in the doorway. His grin faded into shock, his body going still.

“Osiris.” He breathed.

Osiris felt himself smile. “Crow.”

That too, had been enough.

Since then, Osiris wakes to find Crow in the apartment on more days than not. He eats meals with them, or keeps them informed on the various Vanguard actions and the goings on beyond Earth. Osiris will often emerge from his study after the few hours of the day he’s devoted to his studies and to recalling Savathûn’s memories to find Saint and Crow in the kitchen together, laughing as Saint tries to teach Crow to make something or other, and Crow ends up making a mess of himself and the kitchen, but a good meal always finds its way to the table.

The scene Osiris walks into this evening is no different. Crow’s laughter reaches him through the study door, slightly ajar, and Osiris rises, feeling himself smile at the noise. He and Crow were not initially close, but the care Saint holds for him has allowed Osiris to warm to him in what feels like a mere matter of moments.

“Wait, wait,” Crow's voice holds a pleading edge, but any desperation seems to dissipate as he laughs between words. “You can’t leave, I don’t know how to–”

Osiris steps into the hallway, approaching the kitchen. When he rounds the corner, he finds Crow standing at the counter, a heap of dough wrapped around a rolling pin.

“Why is it so sticky?”

Saint throws his head back and laughs, and Osiris feels himself smile. The Titan pulls a tub of flour closer to Crow and the cutting board he’s working at, then sets his hands on Crow’s shoulders, standing just to his left.

“Use the flour, it will make it less sticky.” He advises, then turns. His face brightens when he catches sight of Osiris. “Ah, Osiris!” He steps away from Crow to reach for Osiris instead, landing a quick peck on Osiris’ lips. “Perhaps you could supervise? I must change.”

“Certainly.” Osiris smiles, but he cups Saint’s face with his hand before the Titan can step away, leaning back up for another, slower kiss. Saint drinks in the contact, as he has every touch they’ve shared since Osiris awoke. When they break apart, he leaves Osiris with a kiss to his brow, and Osiris is still smiling when he takes up a seat at the breakfast bar in front of Crow. “Pizza tonight?”

The Hunter grins, working to rub flour into the dough still stuck to the rolling pin, hoping to dislodge it from the wood. “Maybe.” He says, his lips twisting in effort. “If I can get this off.” He lifts his eyes to Osiris. “How were your studies?”

“Things are going well.” He answers, “I’ve been corresponding with the Ghost in Savathûn’s Throne World, Fynch. He’s been able to provide some insight into some events the Vanguard reports left unclear.”

Crow nods. “That’s good. I’ve heard the Guardian really likes him. They—” he breaks off, frowning in distaste as he gets the pizza dough off the rolling pin only for it to stick itself to the cutting board instead.

“My apologies,” Osiris gives him a sympathetic smile, “I should have told you to flour the cutting board.”

Crow shakes his head, taking a pinch of flour in one hand and setting to work with the other, pulling the pizza dough off the wooden surface.

“I can see why the Guardian likes him.” Osiris continues, “he was timid in our first few conversations, but he seems to be growing more comfortable with me as time has gone on. He has a keen eye for his surroundings.”

Crow nods thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that about him. I guess I was a little worried that you two might get off on the wrong foot at first, with Savathûn.” He lifts his eyes to Osiris’ once more, his gaze assessing.

Osiris purses his lips. “The issue of Savathûn is…complicated.” He murmurs. “Since seeing her memories, it’s given me a perspective I…” He trails off. Crow is still watching him from the counter, but Osiris shakes his head with a small sigh. “I’m not sure what to make of it.” He confesses.

Crow looks down, his eyes falling to the lump of dough in front of him. He works flour into it with methodical slowness. “I get that, I think. Savathûn was a mentor to me, and when the Traveler blessed her, she did so many awful things, but it was hard for me to view her as completely evil.”

“There is no good or evil.” He murmurs, his gaze following Crow’s. “Only the Vex have that kind of determinism, and for what reason, we don’t properly understand.”

Silence stretches between them until Saint emerges from the bedroom, immediately frowning at the changed atmosphere.

“What happened?” He asks, reentering the kitchen, a warm sweater replacing the armor he’d worn earlier while he’d helped Mithrax in the Eliksni quarter. “You did not burn something, did you?”

Crow recoils immediately at the accusation. “That was one time!” He protests, and Osiris recalls the most eventful ten minutes since he first woke at home, when Crow accidentally set a loaf of bread on fire with his solar light and very nearly set the rest of the kitchen aflame trying to put it out. He relaxes as Saint pats his shoulder, insisting he was only joking. “It was my fault.” He says, his voice quieter. “I brought up Savathûn.”

Saint makes a short huff of distaste. “I cannot leave for two minutes without the two of you discussing that witch.”

“It’s important that we discuss her.” Osiris points out. “Understanding her actions is paramount.”

“I know.” Saint responds, softening immediately. He rounds the counter to the breakfast bar, pressing a kiss to Osiris’ temple. “I only meant to say, there is a time and place to discuss Savathûn, and I do not wish to have her in my home again.”

“I know.” Osiris echoes. He presses a kiss to Saint’s lips before the Titan looks over at Crow.

“Did you preheat the oven?”

Crow lifts his hands, caked in pizza dough and flour.

“You want me to touch the oven?” Saint rolls his eyes, but his scoff is colored by fondness rather than irritation, and when he returns to the kitchen, Crow laughs when he ruffles his hair.

“Glint, if you would—”

“On it!” The Ghost appears in the air, zipping to the oven and directing a beam of light at it. They fall back into work quickly, the lingering darkness cleared from the air.

Osiris instructs Crow while he rolls out the pizza and shifts it to the stone before he covers it in sauce and cheese, layering their toppings on in different sections. Once it's in the oven, Saint washes and chops vegetables, and they get their meal on the table with no mishaps, accidents or fires. When they sit down to eat, Osiris lifts his water glass in a toast, smiling at the other two seated at the table with him.

“Thank you.” He tells them, “for more than just making dinner.”

Saint and Crow return his toast, and Osiris enjoys another evening awake, alive, and safe after so long.

[sunlightsshadow]

Heal What Has Been Hurt Liveblog

hello and welcome to the first of 5 initial (but probably not Only) posts recounting my liveblogging of Heal What Has Been Hurt by @sunlitmcgee

ch1: and the universe said "I Love You"

c! tech did one (1) good thing and it was burning the egg

gogy mention/pos

its only ch1 and they've already gone DadMode. hasnt even even , talked to the boy yet/lh

XD :D

ch2:Flower Gleam and Glow

"weirdo mother hen guardian angel nanny thing." hehehe

moths moths moths moths moths

Clara :D

ch3: I've Been Ghosting Your Dreams

i wonder how tommy feels about warm rain

my browser crashed god dad is too powerful/j

ghostbur :DDD

oh i have so many feelings about ghobur

ch4:Come, My Child

not lots of thoughts just enjoying the domesticity of the bois

did enjoy the star freckles tho

ch5:Like A Busy Bee Taking Flight

"large purple man" thanos/neg

compass compass compass compass (im wearing my Your Tommy compass my bf bought me <3)

heheh dad said pogchamp

ch6:Flying Like a Bee, Black and Yellow Energy

hehe derivikat lyrics

xd dad god. why is that form even still in your rotation/lh

ranboo/pos. i love all Ranboos

hehehe time to sin!

c! techno/neg

xd having several children who are gods and can take care of themselves and having to focus your attention on the whole of creation is different than abandoning your litteral tiny children to go adventuring w a gladiator who hears voices

xd you could have shifted forms dont yell at them/lh

ch7:Cold. Why You Gotta Treat Me So Cold?

weird schlatt tubbo/neg nightmare tubbo/neg

GOD I hate exile

I am so emotional over them GODS

I need someone to be proud of me like xd is proud of tommy

I want a god dad. the yearning is strong

ch8: sweet like honey

any time someone writes tommy saying the phrase "ill be good" istg i feel my heart break

back sore, clue #1

micha 🥺

ch9: I Think You're All Insane

_beloved family/pos

PUFFY!!

every time i manage to forget the captain is dreams mom someone reminds me :/(/hj/nm/lh)

no more memory broke :D

am i using that emoji to much? i do not care<3

god enderman lore/pos

ch10: Deep In The Meadow

i also feel Okay. this is a good place to be

there is something so personal about tommy wanting to end the cycle of abuse and worrying he'll end up like the people who hurt him

good people have intrusive thoughts tommy:(

ch11:Here it's Safe, and Here it's Warm

hehehehe Wings also toms XD would never leave you :(

"you'll instinctively know" its not instincts if it hurts Philza

god i fucking love the personification of instincts. so much. its such a cool thing

ch12:Why, Tell Me, Father?

tommy has a perfect comfy bed and doesnt wanna move. mood

tommy is starting to heal and i love that for him/gen

how DID xd figure that out?

ive just decided just now while rereading that xd was too nice to phil

"you're still here" im gonna SOB

heal! emerald duo/neg

I wanna hug tommy :(

ch13:It's a Promise for Life Between Father and Child

what if i just [takes a white out pen to tommys trauma] look now hes just a lil guy! (someone do this to me)

[beats the doomsday bitches over the head with a stick] i will actually never be normal abt c!tommy

mmmm i should play omori

tinyboo. itty bitty

i dont wana read the interaction w technoooo [reads it anyways] its important

Ghobur! he back!

i think more people should let ghostbur get angry

ch14:How Would You Know?

idk how phil cant sense the Pissed Off aura xd must be giving off rn

in which xd is my spirit animal

:D(malicious)-XD

i like his hat :(

somebody please do this w my dad

ch15: Remember to be Patient

i am obsessed w instinct stuff. lil baby birb go peep peep

i was so lost in the euphoria of birb i forgot to have thoughts

ch16:Fold Up Your Wings, Close Your Eyes

WING TIME WING TIME WING TIME

"it's beautiful… except of course for the unholy screams"

xd " claws" and " adorable" are not generally words that go together

he is SAD the baby is SAD :(

what would xd do if tommy turned into an actual baby?

"its me?" AWWWW🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

hes a baby

i will kill any god for him

baby boy

precious

oh boo even *mentions* agere how did I miss that the first time? tommy is simply baby

ch17: See the Sunset

cant see glass<3

i want a cool space blanket (I have a non-binary flag space blanket tho :3)

I also like when things make click clack noises… am i birb?

I love hiiiiimmmmm

ch18:Nothing Could Tear Us Apart

they can both be clingy it's okay

i almost forgot to open my document when I started reading again

[wilbur voice] quackityyyyy

hes not even actually here but I'm lobe himb

hehehe lovey dovey qpps/pos

i adore my qpps and my bf

GOD i am not NORMAL about platonic soulmate clingyduo there is nothing normal abt my mind state towards them!

"You were worth more than L'manburg ever was…" grrrrrr growl hiss its so GOOD

more baby birb🥺

ch19:Come out and Play

is he a demigod now?

bird time again!

i love instinct shit have i mentioned that?/hj

baby baby boy/pos

i was reading this the first time and I was just like. hes so small

i fuckin love my comfort chara using my coping mechanisms

And with that it's back to reading<3