#very sad for him ;_; he's fine though he's just stubborn

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Until I found you

The reader's nickname is princess. There are slightly spicy scenes so mdni. Fuck boy Eddie who quickly turns into simp for you Eddie, fluff and a bit of angst.

❤️

The First time that Eddie met you was when he was running from a very irate ex fling. He had literally just ended things and she had taken it badly; even though he told Cassia that he wasn't a relationship guy, she still thought that she could change him.

So intent on getting away from the crying and yelling he fell arse over tit and landed in a heap at your feet.

Normally Eddie would put on the charm right about now but his mind had gone blank at your pretty smile and the amusement in your eyes.

"Uh hey, you wouldn't mind hiding me from my very angry ex would you?" you snort at his request and proceed to help him up.

Now he would like to say that he charmed the pants off you that night but he didn't. In fact it was weeks before that would happen.

Eddie didn't do love. He was too cynical for that shit and he had seen enough break ups and fighting from his own parents and couples around him in his early years that it stuck with him.

Truthfully when he was younger there was still an idealised part of him that dreamed of finding someone who would love him but after various disappointments it was easy to close off that part of him.

He was thirty nine and had yet to have a serious relationship, preferred to indulge in flings with like minded people; there were still a few women who liked to think they could change his mind despite his warnings but they were unsuccessful.

Some people liked nothing better than a challenge and Eddie was a challenge, but he was also stubborn and refused to change his mind about things.

Even when he met you he was still determined that you would be like the others, that this would be a short fling and then be over within weeks... well if you ever agreed to go on a date with himm

However you seemed to have other ideas...

When you finally did agree to a date, Eddie made sure you knew the rules. No way was he having another angry woman chasing after him. You seemed pretty nonchalant about the whole thing until towards the end when you surprised him by gently taking his hand.

"Doesn't it get lonely?" you ask him curious and a little sad. He swallows and shakes his head. "No" he murmurs but that isn't quite the truth, he does get lonely but chases it away with flings, weed and D&D.

You didn't look like you believed him but you dropped it and gave him a little smirk. "So what's this amazing date you're taking me on Munson?"

❤️

Weeks pass and Eddie doesn't seem to realise that this has lasted longer than his usual flings, the two of you are having fun so he doesn't see why you would have to stop now.

Eddie groans as he thrusts into you, he can never get over how incredible it feels being inside of you and quickens the pace, loves the way you moan his name and clench around him.

A powerful, intense orgasm rocks the both of you and Eddie moans into your neck, softly kissing over it and your breasts. You're still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm, eyes closed and a blissful smile on your face.

"Hey beautiful" he caresses your cheek for a second, you cuddle back in his arms and look so content and happy, warmness spreads over his chest as he watches you. Fuck.

This was bad, this was very bad. What the fuck was going on with him? He was moving into dangerous territory here, things he avoided like the plague.

While you were nodding off he quickly dressed and tried to ignore his racing thoughts. So he liked spending time with you? So what! that didn't mean anything.

The content feelings that had been popping up out of nowhere meant nothing either, the warm feeling when he looked at you? Maybe he was getting sick or the AC was too high. That must be it..

This was fine. Maybe if he kept telling himself this then he would believe it? He feels a tug on his hand as he's trying to find his shirt and you're wide awake and gazing at him with big puppy eyes.

"Stay" you murmur sleepily and pout, it's so adorable that Eddie can't help but join you back in the bed.

This was fine. It was just one night it didn't mean anything. Nothing at all.

...

Steve is the first person to notice what's happening, he presses a beer into Eddie's hands before everyone arrives for the campaign and the two settle to chat.

"So you and princess? It's lasting a while huh?" Steve waggles his eyebrows at Eddie who almost chokes on the beer he's drinking, annoyed at Steve's teasing tone he shrugs and answers.

"I could end things whenever I want Steve" Eddie waves off Steve's comment, he really doesn't want to mention to Steve how sick he feels at the thought of never seeing you again.

"Yeah, you could but you don't want to Munson and you need to admit that to yourself" Steve says wisely and is saved from answering as some of Hellfire arrive.

No he doesn't.

Steve doesn't stop there and pins Eddie with his gaze. "Dude she's a catch and if you lose her because you're so stubborn, you know she will get snapped up like that" he snaps his fingers and Eddie feels like he's been punched in the gut.

Steve is right. He knows he's right and Eddie knows he's right and those thoughts stay with him.

He tries to lose himself in the campaign, and it works for a while, he's completely in DM mode and smiling at his enraptured audience. Dustin and mini Dustin are hanging on his every word as he finishes this part of the campaign on a cliffhanger.

"Dude, seriously!" Mike whines and Eddie smirks and pats Mike on the shoulder, "Wheeler good things come to those who wait. Now scram!" he orders him.

He's already annoyed that he was so distracted at times during the campaign in the first place, it wasn't often but it was enough to unnerve him. Since when did he get distracted while he was in the zone?

It was you that was distracting him and Steve stupid musings but speaking of you distracting him...

You walk into Steve's house smiling shyly at Steve and your eyes light up the minute that you find Eddie. His heart annoyingly speeds up which makes him grumble under his breath.

The minute you're in his arms his grumbling ceases and he smiles. "Hey whatcha doing here princess?" he's aware of the others watching him and gawking, he throws them a dark look and they scatter off in different directions.

"I thought I'd surprise you, is that alright?" you ask nervously and he's quick to assure you it's fine. The two of you liked hanging out together so he didn't see the problem and he never wanted you to feel nervous asking him these things.

"Sure princess, you want me to teach you how to play? I have a mini set back home" he doesn't expect you'll say yes but you surprise him by nodding happily.

"I'd like that Eddie"

❤️

Eddie smiles as you fall asleep cuddled into his chest, the two of you have barely left the bed since he picked you up from work and you're finally tuckered out.

Usually right about now he would slip out while you slept. Except he finds out that he doesn't want to, he wants to stay and the thought doesn't make him want to run for the hills.

You mumble in your sleep then whimper as your hand traces the empty sheets, he moves closer to you and instinctively you seek him out and sigh content when you're cuddled up on his chest.

It's cute as fuck and he melts. Melts, he can't cope with how sweet that was and he feels that warmness flood over him again as he strokes your hair.

The realisation hits him then. He could happily do this for the rest of his life.

Well shit. That was new and terrifying and he needs to leave now and not look back.

For a second it feels like he can't breath and he's gently moving you to your side of the bed and is halfway through scrambling for his boxers when it hits him that he doesn't want to leave.

His breathing calms and the racing beat of his heart slows down to a normal rhythm.

Once again the thought of not seeing you again makes him feel like his chest had caved in and he slumps back on the bed and immediately gathers you back in his arms.

With a gentle kiss to your hair and the feeling of your body flush against his, he begins to relax and he admits to himself that the feeling of you in his arms is something he will never tire of.

He wants to do this for the rest of his life.

❤️

[revcleo]

hyey guys late night thoughts

one problem out there is when people externalise a problem automatically, like:

if you have a misunderstanding with someone or something isn't clear, saying "You need to be clearer, no-one will understand you if you act like that."

It's no, it's a case of one-to-one communication there, it's "We need to figure out how to work this out, I didn't understand what you meant."

Even if you legit think that other people won't understand the other person, the first case here doesn't work. It will just do one of two things:

1. Annoy the other person

2. Depress the other person.

Note: If you are being spoken to in generalist terms like someone always saying "people don't like/won't understand when you" or even like "black people don't/won't", "abuse survivors don't/won't", "women's don't/won't". Then always just, consult some other people, read upon things. It's often someone saying "I don't like" and trying to make it look like they have back-up. Look around and see if things make sense, or if it's just someone who doesn't vibe with something, trying to make it out to be worse than it is.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Wonderful Tonight

Marcus Pike x Pregnant Female Reader - 18+

Summary: Marcus Pike takes care of his very pregnant wife, shaving her legs (and more) and then treats her like the delicious meal she is. CW: pregnancy, shaving, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected p in v (you can't get pregnant while pregnant, but all of you better be wrappin it up!), praise, pet names (baby, honey, etc.), multiple orgasms. This is fluffy romantic smut. AN: I write one piece with feelings and suddenly I'm Mrs Romance over here! I gotta say that I'm falling deeper and deeper for Mr Marcus Pike, JUST LOOK AT THAT FACE!!! I feel like their wedding song would have been Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton, hence the title. Thank you @syd-djarin for reading this over for me. @survivingandenduring, I'll be waiting for my edits lol. Dividers by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 3.9k

A faint groan stirs Marcus awake, he takes a few seconds to fully come to, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Trying to listen for that sound again, unsure if it was a dream or not. He reaches across the plush white bedding of the king sized bed looking for you, his beautiful and very pregnant wife, only to find the bed empty. 

Usually, worry and panic would rush through him if you weren’t in bed, but you appear to be in your nesting phase and it hasn’t been unusual in these last few weeks for him to find you rearranging the nursery or ordering more things off Amazon at strange hours. You also seemed to have the strangest midnight cravings, like mayonnaise on ice cream, or there was that night he walked on you about to take a bite out of a kitchen sponge. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and stretches, looking over at his alarm clock. 2:56 am. 

The sound of you huffing and grunting floats from under the door of your ensuite bathroom. You sound like you’re struggling or in pain and adrenaline courses through Marcus as he hops up and rushes to the door. His mind racing to calculate the number of weeks pregnant you are and if it’s too soon for you to be in labour or not. 

He tries the door handle to find it locked. “Babe?” He calls, rapping his knuckle in the door gently. 

“Sorry. I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” you call back, your voice seems off like it’s laced with discomfort. It immediately sets his teeth on edge, you’re not fine, and according to his quick math you’re also at a point where you could go into labour and even though the baby would be a little early, they’d be past the danger zone and the baby would most likely be ok. 

“Please open the door. You don’t sound fine.” He says softly, pushing the panic down like the trained FBI agent he is. 

You’re quiet for a second before responding in a more stable voice, “Everything is fine. I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

“Are you sure everything is ok?” He asks one more time, he knows your stubborn tendencies and how it usually takes him to ask three or four times before you give in. 

It’s silent again behind the door. Just the sound of you huffing like you ran a marathon before a sad little ‘no’ leaves your lips. It simultaneously sends him into fix mode and breaks his heart. He hears your bare feet pad across the tile floor followed by the click of the lock. 

He cracks the door slowly to come face to face with you in just your sports bra, naked from the ribs down. Your legs are slathered in raspberry and tangerine scented shaving cream and you have a purple razor in your hand. Your cheeks are pink with frustration and the exertion of trying to bend down. Your hair’s piled on top of your head, a few loose strands falling and sticking along the nape of your neck. 

He leans his toned bicep against the doorframe, only wearing his tight black boxers, then crosses his arms and looks at you tenderly. His voice is soft and full of love as he says, “Oh, sweetie. What are you doing?” 

The tears of frustration start to pool along your lash line. “I’m gonna give birth and I can’t be a Sasquatch, but I can’t bend over without feeling like my lungs are being crushed by my giant belly.” 

Marcus cups your face, wiping away the stray tear and bringing your eyes to his. “Honey, you’re not a Sasquatch. And even if you were, they’re doctors. Come here,” his hand trails to the nape of your neck and he pulls you gently into him, wrapping both arms around you and tucking your head into his neck, “They’re not looking at your leg hair. They’re focused on you and the baby.” 

You relax into his arms, belly pressing against his abdomen comfortably. “I can’t go into labour like this,” you say, anxiety wavering in your voice. 

Marcus drops his arms from your body and slides past you, slipping his boxers down before stepping into the large, glass walled shower. He turns the nob that controls the rainfall shower head and crooks his fingers at you as a silent call to walk to him. 

When you reach him, he starts to unzip the front of your sports bra. “What are you doin’, Mr Pike?” You say softly over the soothing sounds of the shower, watching his thick fingers pull the zipper down. 

“I’m shaving Mrs Pike’s legs,” he says as you look back up at him. His chocolate brown eyes soaked you in and made you weak in the knees. 

“Marcus, you -“ he cuts you off as your sports bra hits the floor. 

“I promise to love, cherish and treasure you,” he starts, lightly pulling you into the shower. He always recites his marriage vows when he can sense you’re about to fight off his help. His way of reminding you that he wants to be there, wants to care for you. He continues his speech as he leads you to the wooden bench, “In all circumstances; good or bad. Forever. Without hesitation or keeping score. From this breath, until my last breath, you are my wife, my love, my partner, and my equal.” 

He steadies you as you sit before taking a knee in front of you and smiling up at you sweetly. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. It’s the middle of the night and this incredibly sweet man doesn’t even question or fight you. Just supports and loves you with his whole being. “I don’t deserve you.” 

“Baby, you’re growing a person for us. You deserve so much more,” he holds his palm out and you place the razor in his hand. His other hand wraps around your swollen ankle lifting it to rest your foot on his knee. Before you can say much he starts making slow, gentle strokes of the razor up your leg. 

You’re both silent for a moment, him lost in the sight of your soft skin as he shaves your leg, you lost in him and the way he’s looking at you as he drags the sharp razor so tenderly across your skin. The steam from the shower wraps around the two of you, encasing you in your own little cloud. The rest of the world and all your worries are temporarily blocked out until all your thoughts are just Marcus. Sweet, loving, emotionally available, Marcus Pike. 

He reaches for the detachable shower head and drizzles warm water down your shin and calf, using his free hand to rinse away the excess shaving cream. You go to move your leg away but he grabs your ankle to keep you there. After switching off the water he puts it back and looks up at you, placing a light and lingering kiss on the inside of your knee before placing your foot back on the warm tile floor and grabbing the other ankle. 

The shaving cream has washed away from the steam and backsplash from the rainfall behind Marcus, so he grabs the bar of soap and lathers up your leg. You watch again as he focuses all his attention on carefully shaving your other leg. Using the same little strokes, rinsing the razor more often than you would if you were doing it yourself. 

After rinsing off the excess soap he glances up at you. “Better?” He asks soothingly. 

“Ya,” you say, trying to convince him that your legs were your only worry, but he knows you better than that. He knows that when you flick your eyes away from his and your spine just slightly stiffens you want to ask something but are afraid or nervous to. 

“Honey, what else do you need?” His hand kneads the swollen and sore muscles of the calf that’s still propped on his knee. 

“Well…” you trail off as you start to blush. 

“Mrs Pike. Are you going to ask me to shave your pussy?” He says with a devious little grin. Eyes lighting up like a horny teenager, placing your foot on the floor. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say quickly. “I’m just worried that -“

He lightly covers your lips with his palm and Reminds himself to stay calm. he’s thought about how sensual it would be to shave your most delicious areas, but he knows you have some insecurities about body hair, and he didn’t want you to think you had to be clean shaven for him to find you sexy. Because truthfully, you could be a Sasquatch and he’d still want you. “Oh no, baby. I want to. I really REALLY want to.” 

You lightly kiss the inside of his palm as he smiles hungrily at you. Just as your insecurities start to cloud your thoughts Marcus places his hands on your belly and rubs gently. “For the record, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, clean shaven or not. I love the taste of your pussy when it’s like this, it’s sweeter and feels soft against my skin. Plus, I love the way you cry out when I tug on it. So don’t think for a second that my excitement over getting to shave her means I prefer it that way. I don’t. Ok?” 

You crash your lips into his, tangling your fingers through the slightly outgrown hair at the nape of his neck. He tastes like toothpaste still from before he went to bed as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, his soft wet tongue swiping against yours. The two of you stay like that for a while. Lazily making out in the middle of the night in the shower. His hands trail from your belly to your back, gently massaging the muscles of your lower back and then your hips. 

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you catch your breath. “I’m going to get a new razor and your special shaving cream. Ok?” 

You nod against him. “Are you ok on the bench, honey? Do you need a towel to sit on?” 

“No, I’m ok. We can move if the ground is uncomfortable, Marcus.” He’s always beating you to ensure the other is comfortable. 

“Be right back,” he winks. You watch him walk out of the shower to the vanity. The water droplets on his back run down the toned and slender muscles that line his back, they catch in the curve of his ass before running down his tight cheeks. You find yourself squeezing your knees together at the sight of your naked husband. He truly is so beautiful, inside and out. 

He slips back into the shower and kneels before you, sitting back on his heels. “Slide to the edge, baby.” His hands come to your hips, guiding you forward. He licks his lips and looks up at you through his thick lashes, big brown eyes dancing softly around your face. “Spread your legs for me.” 

Normally, saying something like that would sound dirty, or like a command, but it floats gently over the splash of the shower. Soft, caring, and so sweet that you melt back onto your hands, parting your knees wide for your husband. His eyes glaze over slightly as his lips part, your glistening soft folds on display for him. He blinks a few times and takes a slow breath, reaching for the shower head again, cupping the water in his hand and drizzling it along your pussy. The breath catches in your throat, something about this feels incredibly sensual, and it doesn’t help that Marcus is looking down at your pussy like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Is the water ok? Not too hot?” He asks. 

How did you get so lucky, but more so, how did anyone divorce this man in the past? 

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” your voice waves, it’s breathy and full of arousal. He blinks up at you and smirks. He knows this is turning you on, and he plans to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as possible. 

He applies the cream and grabs the razor, popping off the flimsy plastic guard before getting to work. His hand rests above your mound, pulling back gently to make the skin taut. He uses little strokes, rinsing the blade between each swipe of the razor. You close your eyes and let your head fall back as he continues. Once he’s removed all the hair from the top, he rests his hand on the now smooth skin just above your clit and gently pulls back. A soft whimper passes your lips, he’s so close to your most sensitive spots. But he said he’d help you shave, so he continues, swiping the razor in the same short strokes down one lip, and then the other. By the time he’s done, your breathing is rapid and shallow. 

“You doing okay up there, baby?” He asks, placing the razor on the bench beside you. 

You moan a soft ‘mmmmm-hmm’ as he reaches for the detachable shower head. You open your eyes, watching as he tests the water on his hand and wrist before holding the stream over your pussy. You gasp at the feeling of the warm water pressure flowing over your now swollen clit. Marcus smiles up at you, the dimple on his cheek forming and setting you on fire. He clicks the button on the side of the shower head, increasing the water pressure and holding it closer to your core. 

“Marcus,” you whimper, leaning back further. Gravity lolling your head backwards. 

“That’s it. Just relax, honey.” He says in a hushed voice, his free hand gripping and massaging the soft skin of your inner thigh higher and higher until he’s at the top. His thick middle and ring fingers coming to tease around your entrance. 

“Oh god. Please, Marcus.” You say through bated breath. Your swollen breasts and belly rise and fall with your pleas. 

He dips the tips of his fingers inside you, feeling your walls pulse and flutter. Taking his time to slowly fuck his fingers into you, inch by inch. Slowly. Lovingly. All while watching how you react. Watching the way your mouth falls open, eyebrows raising slightly, lips going soft as you moan his name. 

Once his fingers are all the way, he curls them forward just as he clicks the button on the shower head, increasing the water pressure to its highest setting. You let out a long, husky wanton moan that echoes off the black tiled walls. “Cum for me, baby.” 

Your legs start to shake, as your body almost launches you towards your release. Every muscle seems to go slack and it waves through you, pleasure reverberating from your aching clit, spreading to every cell in your body. 

“Marcus. Oh fuck. Don’t stop, Pike. Please.”

You feel lighter, even as your heavy belly bounces as you grind shamelessly into Marcus’s palm and the spray of the shower head. He feels the grip of your slick walled pussy start to relax as you crest over the edge of your orgasm and start to come down. He pulls the stream of water away from your clit, the warmth of his large hand cupping you, his two thick fingers still working you slowly to the bottom of your high. 

“You’re such a goddess, baby.” He says proudly. The praise wraps around you like a warm blanket as he slides his fingers from you carefully. “I wanna take you to bed and watch you do that again.”

You find the strength to arch your neck forward and look at him. You smile sleepily and nod, allowing your beautiful husband to take your hand, shut off the water, and lead you to bed. Before helping you climb in, he moves his hands to cup your face, placing his lips against yours. His chest rumbles with a content sigh as your tongue swipes hungrily along his soft bottom lip. One of your hands scoops under your belly, lifting it to relieve the pressure on your lower back, the other reaches for his hard cock. You grip around the base gently and stroke him slowly, matching the energy of the kiss. 

“Mmmm, I like that baby,” he says between kisses, “But I’m not done with you yet. Let’s get you into bed.” 

You climb in as gracefully as possible, praying silently that you don’t look like those sea lions that you watched on your honeymoon in Alaska a few years ago. You lay down on your back as Marcus climbs on top of you best he can, stretching to keep kissing you, doing his best not to put any of his weight on your bump. This position immediately puts pressure on your body, making you feel short of breath. 

Your hands push at Marcus and you sit up slightly, seemingly fighting for breath. “Ugh,” you groan frustratedly, “I can’t breathe like that. I’m sorry. This is so unsexy.” 

“Unsexy? I’m rock hard for you,” he says, looking down and then back at you with a smile. “You lay how it’s comfortable, how about that?” 

“Pike, I’m only comfortable on my side with that crazy pillow under my leg.” You say, defeated and anxious. “I need you though.”

He thinks for a second, chewing his cheek as he surveys the pillows available. “Ok, what if you lay on your side, bottom leg straight, top leg hooked up and resting on the pillow?” 

You smile at him lovingly, “Is that really gonna be sexy?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more turned on by anyone in my entire life. You’re glowing. I’m amazed by you every day.” He fluffs the pillows around you as you turn away from him, bending your leg up as high as your belly allows. “Is that comfy, baby?” 

His fingers trace up and down your spine slowly as your body starts to sink and relax into the soft mattress. “Yes,” you whisper. 

His lips come to your neck, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, down your neck and then along the top of your shoulder, fingertips swirling along your back and ass cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning at his sweet caresses. His lips continue to kiss your skin and down your back, as he spins his body so his feet are at the head of the bed. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says into your skin between kisses. “So strong. So selfless. I love you so much, Mrs Pike.” 

Your whole body seems to tingle with anticipation of where he’s going to kiss next, you feel his hair tickle the inside of your top leg as he maneuvers his head between your thighs. You lift your leg higher, desperate to feel his mouth on your already sensitive pussy.

“Please, baby,” you gasp, arching your back slightly. “I need you to…” 

His warm soft tongue licks a slow and teasing stripe from your asshole to your clit. A tortured moan leaves your lips, hips bucking into his face. Marcus lets out a silent laugh at your reaction. He’s always loved how your body responds to him. The very first time he made you cum, both of you still fully dressed as you made out, hips grinding into his as you shook, he knew that he wanted to see that for the rest of his life. 

“Good girl, let me taste it.” He laps at you again, still just as slowly but with more pressure. Asshole, to entrance, to clit. Once. Twice. The third time his thumb comes to press into your now dripping pussy, tongue flicking around your nub slowly and with perfect pressure. 

“You taste so good,” he moans between licks. “Such a good girl for me. You’re gonna cum soon aren’t you?” 

“Yes. Yesss. Don’t stop, Pike.” He doesn’t stop, he never stops. Not until you’re either begging him to or you’re pushing him away. 

“Never, honey,” he mumbles into your wet folds, and that’s when the tight elastic behind your mound snaps, and you cum hard and loud. Your inner walls grip his thumb tightly, pulling it deeper. 

“M-Marcus…hnnggg…oh my god. Yes.” You’re lost in the euphoria. Every ache and pain from your pregnancy is temporarily erased and replaced with nothing but pleasure. Sparkling, warm pleasure.

It slowly starts to become too much, slipping into overstimulation. “Marcus. Stop, baby.” He’s always in tune with your body, his thumb already starting to slide out, tongue replaced with light kisses. 

You whine as he pulls away, already missing him and the intimacy. “Please fuck me,” you say over your shoulder, his blown out coffee coloured eyes almost black. He slips his body alongside yours, the arm closest to the mattress slipping under your head. He grips his dick with his other hand, pumping it while running it up and down your slit, collecting your arousal. 

“Ready, baby?” Marcus asks, kissing the top of your shoulder. 

“Just fuck me already!” 

If you weren’t pregnant he’d flip you onto your belly and drive into you, probably pull your hair and tell you to cut the attitude. But he knows he has to be gentler right now, so he slowly pushes the thick head of his cock into you. Inching in slowly, almost punishingly. “Don’t be a brat, baby. You know we have to be softer right now.” 

You wiggle your ass back, trying to get more. You need all of him. When he’s finally seated all the way inside of you he holds still, sucking on your neck. “Be good, or I’ll just stay like this all night.” 

“No, please, baby. Please move.” Your belly makes forward movement impossible so you’re just pinned between your bump and Marcus. “Pike, please.” 

He quickly pulls back to the tip and then slides back in. You cry out into his bicep. “Again. Please. Again.” 

“Fuck, I love it when you beg,” he whispers, fucking in and out of you a few more times. It’s deep and slow, always with a little extra punch of his hips at the very end. “Sound so pretty when you moan for me.” 

You reach down to rub your clit, him encouraging you with his words. “That’s a good girl. Touch yourself for me.” 

It doesn’t take long before you’re both on the edge, ready to tumble over together. To get lost in each other's pleasure. He moans deeply in your ear, whispering praises as you cum on his cock, holding off as long as he can before you feel his warm spend fill you. You’ve completely melted for him, unable to move or keep your eyes open. You both lay quiet, his softening cock still buried inside you, breathing heavily together. You both drift off, spent and happy and so unbelievably in love that it’s hard to believe something like this can exist. 

Marcus wakes up a few hours later still inside you. He slowly slips himself out, peels his body away from yours and tucks the blankets around you. He leaves you a little handwritten note that he’s going to get French toast and bacon from your favourite place. 

Ya, it’s definitely hard to believe that a love like this is yours. 

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag

@pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes

@jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather

@ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[aajjks]

please please PLEASE! (m)

synopsis. He’s a determined man, and he knows a magical word, please.

warnings. ännöyïng k��ö, hë häs göt thë fättëst crüsh ön yöu, përsuätïön, bêggïng, tsündërë yn, evïl bräïnêd köö, cütê köö, mänïpülätïön, cöcky köö.

He is kinda cringe but yk yolo.

note. HEYYYY I already miss him so.. I wrote this in like 37 minutes.. kinda rough kind of cringe but you know… and based on the interactions and reactions, this will get this may become a little Drabble series. OK OK NOW ENJOY. AND PLEASE SEND ME SOME FEEDBACK OR ASKS THEY MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY.

“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE YN!”

When are you ever going to agree?

Do you know that he cannot sleep because of you? Do you know that he’s not even able to eat without feeling sick to his stomach, ALL BECAUSE OF YOU.

You are very evil. Jungkook thinks that you are very mean, insensitive! You are evily beautiful, frustratingly sexy and awfully perfect.

He HATES you.

“You evil woman! I hate you!” He’s crying, he’s devastatingly frustrated right now. He has been persuading you for a month. But you still haven’t agreed.

He looks up at you, you look bored. He’s on his knees, his hands resting on your thighs, he’s got tears in his eyes, “JUST ONE DATE!” He chokes out.

He’s looking at you constantly, but it doesn’t have an effect on you, you’re looking at your nails while he’s begging you. “I said no.” You shrug, he scoffs. What is your problem? He’s hot. He earns well. AND HE LIKES YOU A LOT.

So why won’t you give him a chance?

“JUST ONE DATEEE PLEASE.” he sounds really cringe and desperate. He’s a grown man. But he’s on his knees, begging you. “Ynnnnnnn!” Are you enjoying this? he’s sure.

He doesn’t mind entertaining you, but… he really wants you.

“Yn!” He whines, he’s even tired of crying and screaming. His throat feels dry now. He stares at you dumbfounded. You are one stubborn woman.

But he’s also very stubborn, and he knows you very well, your reason to not go on a date with him our date is very ridiculous in his opinion..

He rolls his eyes. You are about to say it.

“No kook. You’re my best friend.”

Of course he’s your best friend, that is the problem.

“BUT I LIKE YOU.” He argues back, biting his lower lip, he doesn’t know how to get you to agree. Even though he knows you very well… he’s not sure.

But one thing is for sure, he won’t stop annoying you until you agree.

You don’t reply, still looking at your manicured nails. They take his attention as well, distracting him. They are a pretty color of brown, with a gray sparkly French tip.

He loves your hands so much.

“FINE.” Jungkook pouts. “because of you, I’m gonna die alone.” of course guilt tripping has to work. You’ll have to agree now.

He has been your best friend for the longest time ever, and he knows that you cannot see him sad. He’s liked you for as long as he can remember.

And you know that very well.

“Yn… you make me very sad.” He turns his eyes away from you. And he feels your gaze shifting to his face. He can feel the heat of your gaze suddenly.

He smirks.

He feels kind of evil, but he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.

“Y-You know I’ve liked you for the longest time! A-AND IT CAN BE KIND OF WEIRD TO DATE YOUR BEST FRIEND, BUT… just one chance.” He speaks in a very low sad tone.

Crossing his hands across his chest. And then he hears you sigh. “You are a very evil man, kook.” His ears perk up, you are definitely about to agree.

His hard work is finally starting to pay off. Maybe begging you for the last couple of weeks… was worth it after all. He’s got a goofy smile on his face, you can’t see it because he’s turned his face away from you.

“Ugh… don’t give me the silent treatment… I can hear your pout.” he is sure you’re rolling your eyes right now. The thing is that you both know each other very very well.

That’s why you are perfect for each other.

Go on… go on go on!!!

“Okay fine. UGH DON’T MAKE ME REGRET IT.” You say, finally giving in.

And at the speed of light, he turns his head, almost breaking his neck. Jungkook is looking at you with wide eyes. His mouth is agape.

Did he hear you right?

“SAY THAT AGAIN!” Standing up, he giggles. Clapping his hands like a toddler. He knows he’s annoying the fuck out of you right now, but a man’s got to celebrate.

“OH MY GOD YN Thank you I promise you won’t regret it and you will want to date me every single lifetime of yours.” He smirks, his changing from desperate to cocky in 00.0 seconds.

He winks at you while you give him the middle finger.

“You are going to want me so bad after this. I WON.” He Throws his hand into the air, doing a dramatic pose.

“Now I’ve gotta go!!! GO TO PREPARE FOR THE DATE. It has to be perfect. Bye bye ynnnnnn!!!! I love you.” He blows you a flying kiss before yeeting out of your home.

You just hope you won’t regret this.

[shirefantasies]

Hey ! 🌻

I really love your writings and I saw that you take requests ? 👉🏻👈 What would your headcanons be about each Thorin's company members taking care of you if you were injured during a quest while trying to defend them?

Heck yeah! Thanks for your patience as I go through the many I got 🥰 I love this request!

Warnings: minor blood/injury mentions, suggestive jokes

Thorin’s Company Taking Care of Your Injuries

Balin

✧ Sadness overtakes his dark eyes, but he knows you- you’ll pull through.

✧ Gives Oin his space to work, waiting instead where you’ll be lain afterward as he’s asked permission to help clean you up afterward. If he wasn’t so level-headed, in fact, he’d have demanded it.

✧ Can’t help but ask you what you were thinking pulling a daring move like that, but you just give him a weak smile and tell him he’s worth taking an arrow for.

✧ Pulls you into his embrace, kissing the top of your head and telling you he thinks you’re much more worth it, but thank you from the bottom of his old heart.

✧ His touch is the second gentlest beyond the healer’s, so you have as little complaint as you could at how often he changes your bandages and sits you up to make sure you are clean.

Dwalin

✧ The most stubborn. Confident you’re fine, he shakes his head at you for being reckless as he lays you down in your healer’s tent. He knows you’re a fighter- too much of a fighter, if this is any indication.

✧ Gets right in there and helps bandage you, completely unafraid of a little blood. Or a lot of blood. Nothing he hasn’t seen before.

✧ Sits beside you with his arms crossed, asking what possessed you to do that. Softens considerably when you tell him you barely thought, your love for him took over.

✧ Cue Oin walking in on his comrade passionately locking lips with his patient like life was ending that very moment.

✧ Comes across dry with his care to you, but it’s because he’s struggling to forgive himself and doesn’t know how to say it. “Don’t do that, you’re bleeding. I said stay down. Take it up with Oin, not me.”

Thorin

✧ Will be the one to carry you all the way to the healer’s bed no matter what it takes, no matter what injuries he himself sustained.

✧ Lays you down so gently, cradling your head in his hand as he searches for any light in your eyes. When you smile faintly up at him he pulls your head against his chest.

✧ Gives you space, lets Oin work on you, but the moment you’re back in bed he’s at your side with your hand in his, all but snapping at anyone who tries to take him away from you.

✧ Curses his own lack of attention that led you hear, forcing you to shake your head and tell him no, you did what you did out of love and care for him.

✧ Does everything in his power to help you in return, keeping your wounds clean and checking your temperature and staying knelt there as long as he must, telling you how much he loves you again and again.

Oin

✧ Would have been the one to do it anyway, but believe me when I say he will not let a single other soul touch you. You’re under his care and his care alone.

✧ Talks to you even if you’re unconscious, shaking his head and tutting and asking why you’d do that even as he smiles and thanks and blesses you.

✧ For nearly the first time, he finds his hands shaking as he works. If you’re awake and feeling up to teasing him about it, he just uses the moment to reiterate how much he cares for you… and tell you to hold still with a quick but firm kiss.

✧ Pulls out all the stops for your treatment, even using scarcer ingredients he’d hoarded for a long time if he thinks they’ll help.

✧ Rewards all your good behavior, whether it’s taking medicine or gritting through the pain of having things set or bandaged, with a peck on the lips.

Gloin

✧ Oscillating between cheering with pride over your amazing moves and pacing with the stress of knowing you’re hurt.

✧ Tells you how strong you are and how you’ll be back and your feet in no time!

✧ Worst thing for it, though, is just to be laying around just thinking about the pain, so he brings his games in to distract you and keep himself busy when you fall asleep.

✧ Reminds you what a perfect team you two are, for you may have taken an orc’s slash for him, but he ended up taking it down just for you.

✧ Tells you to squeeze his hand if you feel any pain. Regrets that immediately when you practically crush the life out of it, but he’ll never give that fact away for anything!

Bifur

✧ Visibly distraught, knowing how one wound can change a life. Probably demands to watch Oin the entire time.

✧ Needs a hug the moment you’re done just to feel you in his arms and reassure himself, and you cannot deny the comfort it brings you, too.

✧ If you’re the type to pick at your wounds or bandages, know that Bifur will be right there to wordlessly smack your hand away and give you a chastising look.

✧ He becomes clingier, though, in your time of infirm, not only staying by your side but always connected in some way, whether it’s a hand on yours or stroking your head or even him taking you into his arms and resting his head atop yours.

✧ Insists on some very odd herbal remedies that Oin unfortunately backs him up on, nodding and giving a gleeful grin when you reluctantly agree.

Bofur

✧ Refuses to let go of your hand unless Oin physically has to move or handle it for your treatment.

✧ Holds your face in his hands, telling you you’re the bravest most wonderful fool he’s ever met, punctuating every compliment with a kiss.

✧ Sneaks you a flask, saying taking a few sips will surely ease the pain you feel!

✧ Sings you lullabies to help you get your healing rest. Even if you aren’t trying to rest he’ll sing you comforting songs or even silly little uplifting ones complete with even the most ridiculous dance moves. Laughter is the best medicine, after all!

✧ It’s as if he knows what you need before you do. You’ll think of something that might ease your recovery and moments later there is Bofur offering it to you, saying he was thinking you might need it.

Bombur

✧ Paces back and forth outside Oin’s tent in a panic, practically flying into the flaps the moment he is allowed.

✧ Both his hands go to yours, holding it as he asks if you are all right.

✧ Starts to yank you into a hug the moment you day yes, stopping only at Oin’s reminder that that may not be the best idea right now.

✧ Brings you bowls of the best broth he could make, feeding you spoonful by gentle spoonful.

✧ Holds you in his arms and kisses you so softly as if you could somehow break beneath his loving touch.

Dori

✧ The last thing you hear as your tired eyelids flutter shut is Dori scolding you for jumping right into danger.

✧ He picks up again when you awake, but the moment you smile at him he’s lost, pulling you into a kiss with a hand on either side of your face.

✧ Tucks you in your blankets the coziest you have ever been, asking if there is anything else he can bring- anything in the world and it’s yours.

✧ Can be heard arguing with Oin about his methods, especially if they dare hurt you or are more experimental. Healing hurts sometimes, but bless him, he wishes he could take every single ounce of pain from you.

✧ May dodge a bit from the blood your wound oozes, but he certainly isn’t afraid to listen to you describe your pain or what you need in any detail.

Nori

✧ You’ll wake up to him practically pouncing you onto the bed asking what you were thinking pulling a stunt like that.

✧ Kisses you again and again, uncaring of who might be watching.

✧ He has…very creative ways he suggests as attempts to ease the pain depending on the nature of your injury. And, of course, if you’re up for them.

✧ If not, a few rounds of cards’ll keep you busy just the same, and he’ll admit it’s a lot less effort.

✧ Sleight of hand skills come in handy sometimes! He can entertain you with magic tricks, deftly change your bandages with you barely noticing, steal some of Bofur’s whiskey for you to share…

Ori

✧ Constantly asking if you’re going to be alright, which would annoy your company healer if it weren’t so blasted sweet.

✧ Tries to jump in and help, forcing Oin to remind him that he never has set a bone before, has he? He, in fact, has not.

✧ The moment you’re released, you bet he’s right at your side doing everything else under the sun he can. Covering you up with blankets, bringing you water or food and feeding it to you, fetching water and a cloth to keep you cool and clean.

✧ “Don’t scare me like that,” he all but whines your name, “besides, I almost had it!” “Keyword there being almost,” you shoot back with a half-smile, half-wince. “Alright, fair. Thank you. Really.”

✧ Brags about how amazing you are and how there’ll be all kinds of stories about you. You snort and refute this, to which he replies, grinning and holding up his book: “There will be, too. I’m writing them.”

Fili

✧ Wild horses could hardly drag him from your side.

✧ Hovers over Oin the entire time the older dwarf sees to you, even going so far as holding onto things he’ll probably need and handing them to him like an assistant.

✧ Sets up his bedding adjacent to yours in case either of you falls asleep, and of course so you can cuddle him. Oh, all right, he wants to cuddle you too, you got it out of him!

✧ “You’re wonderful.” Kiss. “Brave.” Kiss. “Mad.” Kiss. “Quite the terror to those orcs, even if the one did catch you in the end. Saw some heads fly thanks to you, love.” A much longer, more appreciative kiss.

✧ Can’t sleep? Don’t fret, Fili is there to share stories of his family, of adventures with Kili, their mother, maybe even something funny about Thorin his uncle wouldn’t particularly appreciate him telling you…

Kili

✧ Carries you to bed himself. Every night if need be, he’ll be there for you or even throughout the day to support you and help you walk.

✧ When you’re being worked on, he wants to look away, but he keeps his eyes on you throughout every moment, your hand firmly in his.

✧ Definitely jokes about kissing your wounds better. Teasingly makes to lift up your clothes ‘to see the scar’.

✧ Runs for Oin the moment you express any pain; he knows the feeling, after all, and as he tells you he cannot help the guilt he feels at indirectly causing this, even if you insist it was your choice.

✧ Holds you close, resting your foreheads together as he thanks you for loving him enough to put yourself in this state. “I would do the same for you, you know.”

Bilbo

✧ Deeply insistent that you eat and drink to maintain your strength, even if he has to feed you himself.

✧ Exasperated beyond anything if you tell him you’re fine or try to get up. Gives you the look. You know the look.

✧ If you have bloody bandages, he will help you change them, just looking away and trying not to gag most of the time.

✧ Piles a near-comical amount of blankets on you, forcing you to remind him he needs to keep at least one for himself. Bilbo refuses, thus you invite him into your sickbed with you. He only accepts because you’re ailing and that overrides the impropriety of it all.

✧ Seeing you in pain is so hard, but the one thing that helps Bilbo get through it is realizing it’s emboldened him to tell you just how much you mean to him. It’s a little awkward to get it out, but as he holds your hand and looks into your eyes it is nothing but worth it.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[1d1195]

Dolcezza VIII

Read Dolcezza here.

Here's the last part. (I actually have more but not sure if it's enough for a full part.) Maybe I'll save it for an extra, please send feedback if you think it needs more. I hope you've enjoyed 💕

Warnings: angst. more stalking. more crying. some fluff. If it helps at all, I wanted THIS part to be a cliffhanger as well (you can make your own guesses where I would have ended it, mwahahaha), and I imagine if that were the case I would have received a lot of hate messages. Hence why the last three parts were so terrifying hehehe

~8.7k words

Harry thought about the first time he met her, when he physically bumped into her. The first expression he ever saw on her face was one of pain from how she fell so hard to the ground. Then there was the night she was sick, and she looked so physically broken, Harry wanted nothing more than to take that away from her with nothing more than minestrone soup. Their argument from a few days ago also induced a sad and broken expression on her pretty face.

On Friday she worked a half-day at home, which allowed her to get her car fixed—they gave her a rental to assure her the problem wouldn’t continue since it seemed that would be the case after the last bout of car trouble. Her apartment was clean, thanks to Harry. So, all while working quietly at her desk, she had to sit with the fact that even though they were in an argument, he still took care of her. She had to find a way to apologize to him. But unfortunately, Eleanor was right: she was extremely stubborn and hurt that he went through her stuff. It was obvious that going through her stuff wasn’t the problem. She was certain Harry could move in after a month and it wouldn’t feel weird. It was very much that Harry was worried that bothered her. She wished she had hidden the picture better.

After a lot of arguing with Eleanor, they finally came to an agreement. There were a lot of tears from both parties, but Eleanor made her promise that she was the line. She apologized for not telling her and Eleanor apologized for shouting the stuff about her inability to accept help in front of Harry. The irrational part of her brain could only handle one person worrying about her. Eleanor had known her longer and understood her craziness. Harry was wonderful. He probably understood it just as well and yet she couldn’t bring herself to let him in as fully as Eleanor.

On Friday night, she laid on her sofa and watched a lineup of movies that never failed to evoke rivers of tears from her to get them out of her system. All of Saturday was spent agonizing over her frustration with not speaking to Harry, trying, and failing to read her book and mindlessly helping James and Emma with their various requests. She read Emma’s beautiful essays making her feel more overwhelmed with how much her baby sister had grown. Around noon she met James halfway to get him groceries and told him repeatedly that she was fine, just tired each time he asked her what was wrong. Returning to her apartment made her feel exhausted as if it was already midnight. But her mind wouldn’t let her sleep, which would have been preferable.

That antsy feeling she had brought her to the gym. Using the stair climber felt like hell. It was supposed to help but it made her feel worse. Sweaty and more exhausted than ever, she returned to her apartment hoping she would just fall asleep after a while. Instead of helping in the kitchen on a busy Saturday night as she often did, she stayed in, staring at the ceiling above where she was lying on the sofa.

Fortunately, Eleanor FaceTimed her. She explained all her frustration with her family. How she felt so busy and overwhelmed. Her voice cracked and her eyes welled with tears. “I’m really worried about you, babe,” Eleanor frowned. “It’s like senior year all over again,” she reminded her. She knew what she meant—an overwhelming amount of anxiety plagued her as she applied for jobs and completed her final capstone project. All while managing to help James and Ethan with their own applications for college and scholarships. She nodded unable to deny how she felt any longer.

“I know,” she whispered sadly.

“If your car is still broken, why don’t you have Harry pick me up from the airport next week? I’m sure he won’t mind,” she said it so casually and easily.

It seemed they didn’t get to that part of the conversation the other day as Harry probably intended. Sighing heavily, she put her arm across her eyes. “You can’t get mad,” she mumbled.

“Babe,” she whined with a frown and looked at her, already hurt it seemed. “Are you serious?!”

She explained everything. A month ago, about the picture and note—Eleanor was very unhappy to say the least. How she didn’t tell anyone. Then she told her how Harry cleaned her apartment for her even though they were arguing about him telling on her to Eleanor. Then he found the picture. Her ridiculous reaction and why she felt so uncomfortable with people worrying about her.

“I think I’m in love with him.” She whispered, teary and sad with her own actions.

“Obviously,” Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“Maybe...I need to go down to the kitchen,” she sounded like she was suggesting a plan as she spoke to Eleanor. “I have to apologize,” she nodded decidedly. “I have to let him in and let him worry, don’t I?”

“Yes, you idiot,” her voice was devoid of emotion. “I know, really know how hard this is for you, but it’s Harry. He adores you. You can see it on his utterly expressive face. Someone like Harry can’t pretend what he’s feeling—and he wouldn’t either.”

“What if I’m bad at it? What if he doesn’t want to be with someone that’s crazy like me?”

“I’ve never seen you be bad at anything you set your mind too. Harry will forgive you. He’ll help you get better. Knowing him he’ll probably come up with a reward system of garlic bread for you if you want or kisses, if that’s your new thing with him.” She felt woozy listening to her best friend but couldn’t help but smile at the garlic bread idea. “As for not wanting you? You are crazy. Someone who isn’t in love wouldn’t worry about you the way Harry is.”

She listened as her best friend continued speaking but she couldn’t really focus on it suddenly because there was a distinct thud through the wall. A thud that she thought it had to be an actual elephant in the office because she was so sure that Antonio had the apartment sound proofed so thoroughly, that an earthquake could happen in the room next to her and she wouldn’t hear it. She tiptoed to her door, peering sideways through the peephole catching the door to the office was just barely opened.

Antonio was sick. She only knew that because she saw a picture of his sick little family on her Instagram feed earlier in the day. It was why she felt even guiltier about not going down to help in the restaurant because she knew that they would be short-staffed on a busy night without Antonio there.

So why was the door open?

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more. She hurried to her bedroom with light footsteps praying it looked like she wasn’t home, closing the door as quietly as possible and then doing the same as she hid in her closet. Her heart hammered as Eleanor continued to give her all the reasons why she should just let herself love Harry. Just because she had dealt with people who didn’t appreciate her didn’t mean that Harry would be that way. In fact—

“Eleanor,” she whispered once more. But she heard the deadbolt creak open. Eleanor wasn’t listening to her. She had no choice but to end the call. Ignoring her immediate call back, she furiously texted Eleanor the scariest thing she had ever texted. She heard him creep across her living room floor. Her heart was in her throat, and she was lucky she peed right before Eleanor called when she got home from the gym, or she would have had a serious problem right then.

ANSWER THE PHONE Eleanor texted back.

She silently gulped and pressed the phone to her ear. She listened to Eleanor’s soothing voice. Her calmness despite the fact this was everything she knew Eleanor feared the first time she realized her best friend was being followed. The sound of him going through her stuff made her skin crawl. She should have listened to them; to El, to Louis, to Harry. Oh, she wished she called Harry.

Her body felt frozen with the phone against her ear. She couldn’t move. For everything she did for everyone else, she had never felt like this before. Not once had she ever been frozen in place. She never froze when she was scared—not when ten-year-old Emma broke her arm while she was bike riding and her eighteen-year-old babysitting self needed to hold it in place while James drove them to the hospital. When Ethan called saying James got in a car accident his freshmen year of college and he wrecked his car. When Dad told her that grandma wasn’t going to make it to her twenty-fifth birthday, and she should say goodbye. When Mom was worried about a strange lump she felt on her body, and she imagined life caring for her family without her mom anymore. When she promised to be the designated driver for Ethan and James and ended up standing between Ethan and another guy who had too much to drink arguing over something so ridiculous, she didn’t even remember it now.

Not once had she frozen in place like the way she was then. It was mortifying, all the fight and help she gave to everyone...it wasn’t there for herself.

“I know you can’t talk,” Eleanor whispered. She couldn’t do anything. She was frozen. If he made it to her bedroom, she wasn’t sure she would even be able to fight. That was the scariest realization of all. “I’m going to put you on hold and call Harry. I will be right back. If you don’t hear from me in five minutes, hang up and dial 911.” She hoped to GOD she could manage that if came to it. Hope the frozenness would dissipate long enough to dial 911.

*

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

“Dolcezza Ristorante. How can—whoa. Okay, okay!" Niall pulled the restaurant phone from his ear and shoved it at Harry. He could hear the shouting before he even brought the phone near his ear.

“Hel—”

“Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!?”

“I’ve been—” He barely got a syllable out before Eleanor was spewing a stream of words that were somehow one sentence. Or maybe it was five sentences. Harry lost track of nearly everything, only understanding the gravity that came from the sound of her shrieking. She only made out a scattering of the important words. His eyes widened as he processed her speech.

Harry dropped the empty dishes of finished food he was holding creating a massive mess. Everyone stopped and looked at him. “Harry?” Niall asked.

There was a breath of silence and frozenness. It was like the sizzle of the food in frying pans, the simmering of sauces in pots had all stopped making noise as well. Then he moved, running the few short steps to the kitchen door to the alleyway. “Call the police!” he shouted over his shoulder. He dropped the phone in the debris as well leaving Niall to fish it away from the broken glass and listen to Eleanor repeat the words she just said to Harry.

*

Harry was outside the back door and taking the steps upstairs two and three at a time. The door to her apartment was already open which made his stomach churn. Quickly and quietly, Harry hurried inside. The place was a mess. It was not her. If Harry hadn’t a more pressing purpose, he would have considered cleaning it up for her again, just to make her happy. All the pretty decorations and all her belongings that made it feel so homey, were overturned, or tipped over. Papers and pictures were across the floor. Like a student on their last day of school, throwing out all the papers from the year in the air like confetti. Harry felt his stomach twist again.

“Who are you?” A voice asked.

Harry turned slowly to the sound of the stranger. The one that had quietly wreaked havoc on her life for so long. Harry’s eyes dropped to the long strap of fabric in his hands. It almost looked like a tie, but it was thicker. Something that was intended to go over her eyes or wrap around her hands, he was sure. His eyes traveled back to the stranger’s face. There was something off about him. His eyes felt hollow. Like there was a misconnection between his brain and the rest of his body.

Harry hadn’t a clue what to do. But this had to be better than her trapped in the apartment with a lunatic.

“I work downstairs. We heard a commotion,” he lied, knowing Antonio added extra insulation and sound proofing to keep the sound of the restaurant out of the apartment. “Where is she?” He asked.

His answering smile was creepy—like he only learned how to smile recently. It was so discomforting Harry felt his stomach flip again with worry. His creepy smile paired with the emptiness of his eyes filling with a look of sick sense of delight made Harry’s skin crawl. It took everything in him to not have a physical reaction to his words. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Don’t know how someone can hide in a small place like this.”

“You need t’leave,” Harry ignoring the words he said. If he didn’t process them, they wouldn’t mean anything. “Now.”

“I thought I lost her,” he ignored Harry. “Then Eleanor... she came to visit and posted that picture of her. You could see the takeout bag in the background. It was a matter of time. I don’t want to lose her again.”

The man was delusional. Harry could see that. But his heart quietly broke for Eleanor, knowing she would lose her mind if she found out she was the reason her best friend was found by this guy. He silently vowed he would keep that to himself for as long as humanly possible.

“Listen. If y’don’t leave. Y’lose her. For good. If y’leave,” he swallowed. It felt like a gulp of vinegar. “Y’might get t’see her again.”

“She likes games,” he remarked rewrapping the strip of fabric around his hand. “It was like a scavenger hunt trying to find her,” he explained. “This is just another game.”

Harry tried to discreetly look for her around the open space. There was no way she was in this open room. There was nowhere to hide. Not unless she was somehow inside her sofa or under the kitchen sink. But... she had to be somewhere. There was only one real way out of the apartment and there was no way she would get through the door and down the creaky steps without him knowing after he saw her exit the rental car.

The wrought iron fire escape wouldn’t fare her much better. He would be down in the alleyway before she reached the bottom. Escaping wasn’t an option. Harry cleared his throat trying to feign innocence and help. “Can I help y’look?”

He nodded easily. Having no clue that Harry wasn’t there for anything other than making sure there wasn’t a commotion because he worked downstairs. It was very clear that he was ill. It made him sick to think she had brushed him off for so long. Played that it wasn’t a big deal. It felt horrible. All of it. Harry’s bones felt like mush.

“I need to check the bedroom and the bathroom.” That much was obvious. He had ransacked her entire apartment.

A fifty percent chance of rain was strong enough for Harry to walk around with an umbrella. When he took tests in his algebra class almost fifteen years ago, narrowing his multiple-choice questions to two choices was the best thing he could manage when he struggled with a question. The coin-flip wins he had with Niall each time they had to vacuum the main room at Dolcezza had left him with an impressive 38-102 record that he was certain the coin was always favored on his behalf.

Right now, a fifty-fifty chance may as well have been the chance of getting struck by lightning or winning the lottery.

Harry had to pick correctly.

He did a quick mental inventory of the bathroom and bedroom. Hiding in the bathroom almost made more sense. The door could lock. But if it was locked, it might make him angry—it seemed almost too obvious of a choice. He would break the door down knowing she was in there. It would be bad. The small linen closet maybe could hide her, but he wasn’t certain. His mind sprinted through the furniture in the bedroom.

“I’ll check the bedroom,” he tried not to run in there suspiciously. He checked under the bed, relieved she wasn’t in there. The tall wardrobe he had helped anchor to the wall after she decided the bookshelf was firmly in place and she had visions of the wardrobe falling on her was also empty. The only real place left that could hide a person was the closet. If she wasn’t in there, Harry would cry.

There was nothing else he could do but open it and see if he was right. It was like he was ripping a band-aid off. He yanked the door out of the way.

Harry thought about the first time he met her, when he physically bumped into her. The first expression he ever saw on her face was one of pain from how she had fallen so hard on the ground. Then there was the night she was sick, and she looked physically broken, Harry wanted nothing more than to take that away from her with nothing more than minestrone soup. Their argument from a few days ago also induced a sad and broken expression on the beautiful face he was so in love with.

Nothing compared to the look of anguish in her eyes and her shaky lower lip right at that moment he found her frozen still in her closet. Her phone was clutched to her ear in both shaky hands. Eleanor undoubtedly at the other end whispering to her to keep calm. Harry had never felt anything like the warmth spreading through his whole body seeing her pretty being there, perfectly whole, and beautiful. Whether she was terrified or not.

The relief Harry felt seeing her before him almost knocked him to his knees before her. There was nothing he wanted more than to hold her, whisk her down the steps, bring her to the kitchen, and feed her as much garlic bread, eggplant parmigiana, and minestrone soup as her heart desired.

He had to get him out of here. He gazed at her for a moment longer, his mouth pursing into a frown and he closed his eyes. “She’s not here,” he said evenly and closed the closet just as quickly as he opened it. He headed back to the main room where he noted that he had in fact, torn apart her bathroom as well. He frowned dejectedly.

“She has to be here. It’s seven-thirty. She’s always home at seven-thirty. That’s when she watches Jeopardy.”

Harry thought he was going to throw up. Knowing her schedule wasn’t something he had fully processed. “Maybe she’s not here,” he suggested.

“No, her car is in her spot. She had to get a rental while her car is in the shop.”

Harry was certain he was going to throw up.

“Maybe she hit traffic,” he tried instead.

“She always leaves time for traffic.” Harry strongly considered just slamming his head into the wall. “You’re lying,” his voice wasn’t accusatory. It was factual. Somehow that was worse. His hands tightened on the length of fabric once more.

“What?” Harry shook his head trying to feign calmness. But his heart started to speed. His fingers started to feel numb.

“She’s in there,” he sounded... excited. Harry’s heart was hammering in his chest. “Honey,” he called almost gleefully and started for the bedroom.

*

She pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Or vomiting. If she made a sound she was done for. Harry knew she was here. She knew Harry was there to protect her. Even after she pushed him away because he was the first person to show her what it was like to be cared for by someone else. Someone who didn’t take advantage of her kindness. Someone who wanted nothing more than to make her feel better when she was down.

She thought she was going to collapse on the floor of her closet when Harry yanked the door out of the way. She didn’t know if it was her stalker at the time. The weight that lifted seeing someone she knew... and someone she knew would help her, crushed her. Harry looked about as pained as she felt, and she didn’t know what to do or say so she simply stood there in shock and let Harry take care of her.

She’s not here. He said closing her back in the closet.

“Oh, thank God,” Eleanor whispered to her ear.

Eleanor had called Harry who knew how many times before she called the restaurant. Within seconds of switching back to her while she hid in the closet, listening to him ransack her living room. “He’s coming,” she promised. “Niall called the police,” her voice was so quiet. “I wanted to get back to you,” she explained. “I... I don’t want him to get away,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, babe,” she could hear Eleanor’s tears and she wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but she was still frozen like a block of ice.

Hearing Harry’s warm voice feign calmness made her melt. Watching the shadowy figure in her room made her want to scream but she was still stuck in place. Eleanor was whispering comforting things. Quietly begging to no one that Harry get to her first.

Her heart was beating so fast and there was sweat on her hairline. Her phone slid in her grip with the anxiety she felt causing her hands to sweat as well. She clutched the phone to her face even harder. Listening to his exchange with Harry and Eleanor’s quiet reassurances did nothing. She was so scared. She closed her eyes as if not seeing the inside of her dark closet would make it go away. Her body was thrumming with a heartbeat that seemed to appear in every inch of muscle. It made everything ache.

“She’s in there,” his voice was excited, and the tears found their way around her hand cupped over her mouth. With her eyes still closed, she could hear Eleanor whispering something, but she was too scared to process the meaning. “Honey!” He called. Like he was home from work, and this was normal. She heard him twist the doorknob to her bedroom.

She was going to be sick.

She inhaled to scream but instead, there was a commotion then. She imagined the soundproofing failed. It surely sounded like two adult men landed hard on the floor, the thud had to have transferred through and down to the restaurant. She was shaking. Every inch of her body. She could hear more of her belongings breaking and toppling hard on the ground. It felt like her lungs were shaking inside her ribcage with each quiet breath she had to take silently. She listened to the grunting and sound of punches landing.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes, but it felt like hours.

The swears and grunting stopped. There wasn’t a sound. Then a door slammed shut. It sounded like the door to the little laundry room. “El,” she whispered soundlessly, her voice hardly loud enough to get the syllable out.

“I’m calling the police again,” she switched the line leaving her in silence. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be left alone with someone entering the room.

“Principessa?” Harry’s voice was in the room.

She was frozen, terrified. What if it was a trap? He had gotten hold of Harry, had a knife to his throat or something equally disastrous. Her hand shook against her ear wishing Eleanor was back already. She couldn’t make sense of it.

“Kitten?” He tried again, his voice was gentle.

Her knees buckled.

“M’gonna open the door, my love,” he whispered softly.

The doorknob turned.

Finally, she had strength again. Her fight, flight, and frozen abilities finally shifted from frozen to fighting. She threw herself at him hoping to knock him off his feet and out of balance. She was so worried that it was still a trick. She was going to run downstairs and into the kitchen ruining the dinner rush, but it would well be worth it.  She was too scared to process anything that was happening and she threw her bodyweight at him and threw her fists at him as best she could.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Harry gently cooed, grabbing her wrists as she tried to wrangle herself away from him now that she had thrown him off balance. “Hey, hey, Principessa,” she continued squirming and throwing weak punches at him while still terrified. She was grateful she wasn’t so scared that she couldn’t fight back after all.

Despite everything, he was so proud of her for not giving up. Even if the danger was completely gone just yet. “Hey, s’okay, now, Principessa, m’here,” he promised and gave her wrists a soft squeeze. She finally stopped, going limp in his arms as she realized she was attacking Harry and not her stalker. Harry gave her a forced smile. Mixed with a grimace. “You’re okay, kitten. M’here,” he repeated cupping the side of her face so he could lock his gaze with hers. See that it was alright, that she was safe now.

She broke.

It was a miracle she could still stand but she probably had Harry to thank for that. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered her eyes flooding with tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” she sniveled covering her face now that Harry had released her. “I thought I could... I thought I could handle it. Handle it all...” she hiccupped. “But I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I was so scared, Harry,” she whimpered. Harry knew his face wasn’t holding neutral or positive. He felt as broken as she sounded. “I’ve been tired and scared for so long and there’s been no one—” her sob choked her words.

Harry thought his heart was going to split right in the middle. If it did, he wanted to give her half of it just to make her whole again. Just to make the pain stop. He tucked her head beneath his chin and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Oh, Principessa,” he cooed. “M’here,” he promised kissing the top of her head and soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine. “M’here.”

“I—” She tried to speak but the tears and emotions coursing through her stopped her vocal cords again.

“Shh, my love, shh,” he cupped the side of her face against her chest. His thumb stroked her damp cheek, and he kissed her hairline again. “M’here,” he repeated the promise. She was overwhelmed by how warm Harry was. His arm wrapped around her waist holding her tight against him. It was the first time she felt safe in hours... weeks if she was honest with herself. Harry held her silently, letting the tears and shaky sobs subside as her body shook against him. It made his chest tight with anxiety. To think she had been holding in all those emotions for so long just so others wouldn’t worry about her. “M’always going t’worry ‘bout you, kitten. Danger or no danger,” he promised.

She sniffled and pulled away from his embrace so she could wipe her hand on her cheek and Harry smudged his thumb across her other cheek brushing the tears away. Harry was scanning her face making sure he got each salty drop and every tear track off her face. As he did, she couldn’t stop staring at his concentrated expression. “I think I love you,” she whispered.

It was as if someone had put a defibrillator on his chest and shocked him. It felt like his heart was beating twice as much and he could hardly breathe as she whispered those perfect, beautiful, sweet words. His thumb stopped smoothing over her skin. His gaze dropped to her eyes again, as she looked at him, her breath shaky and she sniffled again shaking her whole body again. He started to laugh. Despite the situation, despite the worry, despite everything that was going to happen as the impending sirens got closer and closer to them. “I know I love you, Principessa,” he tilted her head up beneath her chin.

He did know. He loved her so much. It was overwhelming. The moment he laid eyes on her. The moment he touched her arms and helped her to her feet. When he had carried her things to her apartment. When she played with Leo. When she was sick. Each time she helped in the kitchen. Or when she bought him the book that he looked at for thirty seconds longer than all the rest. Every single second of knowing her, he fell more and more in love with her.

“Even though—”

He shook his head, rubbed his thumb on her lip to silence her. “I love you,” he said simply. The red and blue lights illuminated her apartment, and she heard more scary thuds ascending the staircase. “Nothing else.” She sank into his embrace and allowed herself to let go. Let someone else take care of things for a few moments.

*

The police were thorough. They stationed someone outside the building. Harry didn’t let go of her hand and wouldn’t let her leave his side. He was insistent she stay in the bedroom as they entered. They took pictures of everything in her place and Harry stood conveniently in front of the bedroom entryway while they brought her stalker outside. Harry assured Eleanor that she was okay while she cried against him. She would call back in a bit, but they had stuff to deal with.

“Thank you,” he croaked gratefully. The thankfulness he felt for Eleanor was so immense.

“Yeah, same to you,” she sniffled. “Don’t forget to call me,” she said seriously despite the sadness in her voice.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised. The police asked about a thousand questions which was exhausting in its own right. Niall finally rushed up, seeing the police bringing the guy down and he nearly got himself arrested for being so swift.

“He’s okay,” she promised with a shaky voice. They let Niall enter, who immediately gave her a huge, awkward hug because Harry wouldn’t let go of one of her hands.

“The whole restaurant is in limbo worried about you. All the regulars are worried about you,” he sighed. “I had to come up,” he explained sheepishly.

“I’m sorry—”

“Oh my God,” Harry shook his head and Niall kissed the side of her head.

“Tesorino,” he chuckled. “It’s so okay.”

“But Harry’s not—”

“Harry needs to be up here with you,” he promised. “The restaurant is very understanding,” he explained. “This isn’t something to worry about, Tesorino,” his tone was so reassuring. “M’gonna go back down and spread the good news,” he smiled. “In the morning, we’ll have breakfast, yeah?” He asked glancing at Harry briefly. He nodded quickly. She wasn’t leaving his side and she certainly wasn’t spending the night without him

She nodded with another smile. “Please.”

“I’ll cook this time,” he winked and squeezed her one more time before heading back down.

With the open door to her place, she couldn’t mistake the thundering applause the erupted from the restaurant below her. It made her tears begin to flow again. After several more questions, an EMT scanning her for any sort of damage and repeating her statement at least two more times with the help of Harry, she thought they were finally done.

“Hey!” One of the officers shouted. Harry looked the most alarmed and shoved her protectively behind him as the sound of thundering footsteps echoing up the stairs once more.

“Where is she?!” He sounded like he was going to cry.

“James?” She whispered, pushing herself from behind Harry.

“Oh, thank God,” he strode across the room, stepping on overturned debris and even though she was older than him, he lifted her off the ground. But that’s when the tears started. “Jesus Christ, Sis, why didn’t you tell me?!” He croaked. She blinked in surprise holding onto him as he crushed her to his body. Her lips parted in shock. She glanced at Harry who smirked at her with a touch of sadness in his eyes.

However, there was more commotion downstairs. “I’m her mother!” She could hear the anguish and felt it in every inch of her body.

“Oh my God,” she whispered beside James’ ear and looked up at Harry once more.

“I got it,” Harry pressed his hand on her back. Her feet were back on the floor, but James still didn’t let go. Harry quickly looked down the steps to assess the new guests. “Y’can let them up. S’her family.”

Emma looked practically animalistic, flying up the stairs, almost on all fours with the speed she took the steps.  She made it to the doorway—nearly shoving Harry out of the way and all but crawling across the floor with the momentum she had built up making her way up the steps. She flung herself at her siblings wiggling herself between James who still had not let go of his older sister for a moment. “How could you?!” Emma sobbed, muffled, and squished between her brother and sister.

“Oh, my,” she whispered. “Em, I’m—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re okay,” she hissed but remained clinging to her.

Her parents soon joined their hug asking a thousand questions that she was simply too exhausted to answer. “You don’t want to get in on this?” She asked with a watery voice. Her words floated over Emma and James who refused to let go of each side of her after a kiss on the top of her head from both her parents. Ethan was last in the room, he stood idly near them. He smirked at her question.

“Want my own hug, beautiful,” he winked. Harry snorted, ignoring the jealousy running through him because he believed Ethan was probably way more worked up than he was letting on for the sake of looking like a normal person. She felt her face warm and glanced at Harry who was smirking. “You gave us all the scare of a lifetime.”

Harry was asked to relay the story to her parents, which he did so gratefully. The shock and hurt they had on their faces realizing this was the first they knew of someone stalking their baby.

“Ethan had to drive,” Emma sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve as she finally pulled away from the embrace. James didn’t want to let go, it seemed. He stood so close to her, his arm touching her. Like he was pressing into her side.

“Sounds like you all had scarier things to deal with,” she looked at Ethan who scooped her up again lifting her off the ground the same way James had. He kissed the side of her head, and she squeezed him back. Ethan wrapped her in his embrace when he whispered something in her ear with a smile. Almost immediately, she pulled from him and punched his arm. “You always ruin something nice.”

“Sweetie, that is not funny,” her mom said tearfully turning her attention to Harry. “Thank you,” she said seriously.

She giggled, making Harry’s heart sing now that he wasn’t as worried. “It’s kind of funny.”

James hadn’t moved from her side, looking at her in awe. His oldest sister was his hero. This hurt him so much. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“James,” she sighed.

“No! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have—”

“There was nothing you could do, James,” she whispered. His lower lip wobbled, and his eyes filled with tears. He looked at the floor. She knew he was upset, obviously.

“One of the people at my internship, said your name out loud. I read the transcript it was Eleanor... I... I didn’t know this address. I had to look up the restaurant. I...”

“Jamie,” she hadn’t used that name since they were young. James had been James since he started kindergarten. She reached out for him again, tugged him toward her. “I’m okay,” she promised. “It’s okay,” she said soothingly, rubbing her hand up and down his back and tucked him into her embrace, holding the back of his neck as he shook with sobs.

It broke Harry’s heart knowing she was comforting her family over something that happened to her. But maybe it helped. Distracted her for the moment until she was able to deal with this. Harry wasn’t letting her go the second they left. He would comfort her the way she deserved as soon as they were gone.

Harry’s phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Eleanor. He said hello, flipped the camera around, and showed off the room. “Jeez, you let Ethan and James throw a party?” Her voice cut through all the comfort and tears.

“I resent that, Eleanor,” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“How are you doing, babe?” She asked with a smirk, seeing her holding James like he was her little brother again and not a foot and some taller than her.

She was still holding James who refused to remove his face from her neck. “I’m good,” she promised. “Thank you.”

“It was a team effort,” Eleanor smiled. “Think Harry deserves the biggest of thanks,” she said knowingly.

She nodded against James’ hold and looked over to Harry. “Mmm,” she hummed. “I think so too.”

*

Her family stayed in her apartment. They were insistent. Now that the pictures were taken, they were going to clean it up. All five of them. “Dibs on the underwear drawer!” Ethan said excitedly.

“You’re disgusting,” her dad grumbled.

“Can you arrest him too?” She turned to the police officer with an eye roll.

He pouted and the officer chuckled. “A guy can hope,” he shrugged helping James with the kitchen. Her mom helped her pack a bag for Harry’s, telling her how nice her place was. Even ransacked. It smelled delicious. Her dad was impressed with how the furniture was anchored to the wall and when told it was Harry’s doing, he thanked him once more for caring about his eldest.

Niall made a second trip up with a box of food for everyone to eat. Everyone sat and ate, moaning about how good everything tasted amidst the messy overturned furniture, broken glass from picture frames, and other decorative things. No one minded. Emma sat next to her as well as James who refused to let his gaze move from her.

“I’m okay,” she murmured to both. She kissed the top of Emma’s head and patted James’ knee. He shook his head holding his phone up to show him all the texts from his girlfriend.

I know you’re busy, but please keep me updated. I’ve never met her but I’m also super worried.

She frowned look at James with watery eyes. “I love her already,” she promised.

There was a lot of logistics to figure out. Her mom said they planned on leaving early in the morning to get belongings back home before returning to a hotel nearby so they could help with whatever she needed for the next couple days. “You’ll stay at Harry’s for a few days?” She asked, glancing at Harry.

“Yes,” he said before she could brush it off. “M’not...” he smirked and looked at his lap. “Don’t want her out of m’sight,” he admitted.

“Good,” everyone nodded in agreement.

“You don’t need to stay,” she assured them. “It’s really okay now.”

“Forgive me, but I have a hard time believing you now,” her mom made the same angry face that she always made. A crease between her eyebrows, a frown on the corners of her mouth.

“I know that you just went through something scary,” Emma began. “But do you think—”

“Jesus Christ, Emma!” James nearly shouted.

“Let me finish!”

“You’re such a selfish brat! You’re probably the reason she didn’t tell us with all your essays and—”

“Children—” her mother started.

“ME? You’re the one she’s been buying groceries for because you spend your money before it reaches your bank account—"

“You two knock it off!” Her dad shouted. Ethan snickered and shook his head chomping on the garlic bread that Harry honestly wanted to yank out of his hand so there was more for her to eat. She smirked and turned to Emma, her back to James, which Harry was sure felt like a slap in the face to him.

“What do you need, Em?” Harry kind of wanted to yell at Emma too for asking for something. But he waited because obviously the sweet girl knew her sister better and clearly sensed something kind at the end of her request.

“Could we make cookies together, tomorrow?” She asked, looking like the little girl that broke her arm and she had to comfort for a whole car ride.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I’d like that,” she promised. “You two will have to help too,” she said looking at James and Ethan. James was scowling at Emma’s satisfied smile of being right.

Ethan smirked. “Would love to see you in an apron, beautiful.”

*

Harry drove her back to his place before the restaurant closed. Niall said he would hang back for longer to give them time to get settled peacefully. Harry refused to let go of her hand. It was almost eleven thirty when they parked in his driveway. The exhaustion was so heavy it was a miracle she could stand. But Harry was probably to thank for that.

There wasn’t much talking in the car, but she was glad to hold his hand. She knew they had lots to discuss but she was tired. Harry was surely tired too. He grabbed her bag. “Do you think Ethan and James should sleep in the living room?” She asked suddenly as Harry unlocked the front door. Harry could see her mind spinning rapidly. It was like she was awake again, caught a second wind from the spiral in her own mind. “Just in case? I don’t want something to happen to Emma or my mom. Oh, I’ll have to fix Antonio’s office tomorrow. Oh... oh we didn’t tell Antonio—”

“Principessa,” Harry ushered her inside and dropped her bag on the living room floor. In the same movement, he cupped her face, and looked her squarely in the eyes. He pressed his thumb on her lips, silencing her. At once, her eyes softened. The forehead crease disappeared. Harry thought this was better than winning an award just to see her relief coat her face thanks to his gentle encouragment. “S’okay,” he promised and kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re not worrying about anything else for tonight.”

“But... I feel really bad!” she pouted below his thumb making a rush of electricity throw through him where his thumb touched her lips. “I know I hurt your feelings and I wanted to talk—”

“Kitten,” he shook his head. “Not tonight,” he promised. “Y’went through something really scary—”

“So did you!”

“—and s’far as m’concerned, you are a hundred percent forgiven. M’glad you’re alright. We can discuss anything y’want in the morning,” he promised. “But we’re not worrying ‘bout anything but kissing and sleeping tonight,” his voice was so serious, and it made her flush that pink color Harry worried she wouldn’t show him after their argument. It felt like ages since he had seen it when realistically it hadn’t been more than two days.

“Well, can we worry about the shower or something? I feel like I smell terrible, and I need to get this night off me,” she wrinkled her nose cutely.

“I think y’smell good,” he chuckled tucking his face into her neck and pecking at her skin. “Can y’even stand long enough for a shower?”

“I’m not getting in your bed all sweaty and gross,” she yawned. “I’ll sleep in the shower if that’s the case.”

He smiled. “Whatever y’say, my love.”

Harry gave her a head start on the shower and texted Antonio a brief update just in case he felt better tomorrow and made it in. After a few questions and a couple more reassurances that everything was okay, Harry finally told him about the most annoying part. I’ll clean up the office... he sent a row of eye-rolling emojis as well. Followed by the vexing part. She’s worried that it’s her fault and wants to assure you it will be clean.

Harry was surprised he was awake, but maybe the kids were keeping him up with whatever illness they were feeling. Tell her to shut up and she better not or I’ll never let her have garlic bread from the kitchen ever again.

Harry smiled, stripped his clothes off, and stepped into the warm steam along with her to get the grime from the day off. “I love you,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “I love you too,” she said sweetly. He cupped her damp face, brushing the suds from her shampoo away from her eyes and he kissed her so deeply and warmly, it felt like he was putting her back together with just a kiss.

*

Harry slipped on a pair of boxers and grabbed her bag to put in his room. She sat in just a large T-shirt she had left behind and a pair of his boxers as well on the edge of his bed. Harry brushed her hair for her and put lotion all over her body massaging the back of her legs and kissing her softly once he finished. As soon as her hair was brushed and toweled dried enough that she felt comfortable laying on his bed with damp hair, she slunk into his mattress and pillows with a long, heavy sigh. Harry immediately followed suit and wrapped his body around her. He kissed the back of her head and sighed in complete happiness.

His phone pinged with a text from Niall, stretching away from her long enough to find out he was pulling down the road. He knew that Niall did so that Harry wasn’t alarmed when the light from his headlights slid over the room and made him worried when someone entered the home. He still clutched her closer as he heard Niall shuffle right by his door, still nervous. But, somehow, she was nearly snoring already.

“Principessa,” he hummed.

“Hmm?” He wasn’t sure she was even a quarter awake. Maybe it was reflex to answer.

“I love you,” he kissed the back of her head. “So much,” he murmured.

She twisted awkwardly, exhaustedly, to face him. Harry draped his arm around the front of her pulling her closer to him despite the fact she could kiss the space between his collarbone if she wanted to. Beneath the covers she curled the arm closest to the mattress against his chest and the other held onto his hard hip. Harry pressed his lips to her forehead. Holding her in place and enjoying the feel of her soft skin below his lips. “I love you too,” she answered.

“Principessa,” he whispered. “I know y’need t’sleep. M’sorry. I really need t’say this,” he brought his hand back to her face and stroked his thumb against her cheek. She almost perked up completely, like she was fully awake. Harry felt a pang of worry course through him. She was so ready to give anything and everything of herself just for him. Probably for anyone. He imagined if James or Emma called right then asking for her to come back, she would. “You don’t bother me,” his voice was quiet, but deep. It made her whole body ache to hear him say it. “Ever. I was going to come up and apologize during dinner,” he admitted.

“Oh,” she giggled every so lightly. “I was going to go down and do the same,” she responded.

He chuckled and felt relief flow through him. “Really?” She nodded against his body.

“I won’t push you away... or I won’t like that. It’s going to take some time but... I really want to be better about accepting you being there for me. I really want that. I promise. I’m so sorry, I yelled at you,” she whispered.

“S’okay, kitten. I know... I know s’not easy,” he kissed between her eyebrows and rid herself of the pinch. “You’re forgiven. M’gonna help y’no matter what. No matter how much y’might not want me to,” he chuckled softly again.

“That’s...the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said or done for me,” she nosed at his chest sighing contentedly getting ready to fall asleep wrapped in Harry’s warm embrace.

It was perfect. She was so grateful for that little apartment. That perfect restaurant. Everything. “Sweetest, Principessa?” he repeated tiredness coating his voice, but he could talk to her for hours and hours tomorrow. But for now, he wanted her to know before she fell asleep. “For you, la mia dolcezza, y’deserve all the sweetness and more.”

--

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Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @crossyourpeter @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @emmaawbr @hermionelove @12yeahiminluvwu @cohnfusedarling

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If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[jnnul]

peaches

sum.: when you pie your [really-hot] neighbor in the face on accident, you never imagine that you’re gonna have to be wheeling him to the hospital because who the fuck is allergic to peaches? yang jungwon, apparently. but you come to learn that yang jungwon is so much more than his unfortunate allergy to peaches and his pretty face and you’re stuck wondering if falling in love with someone you can’t have is worth it.

word count: 2.9k

tags: this one’s sad bois, bullet fic, like ngl, when i was planning this one, i teared up a little bit, sorry in advance tw: major character death, terminal illness, just...not meant for the weak-hearted

a/n: literally all i can say i’m sorry :( can’t believe my first fic for jungwon is this sad nonsense i conjured up literally last year

you didn’t mean to pie your extremely attractive neighbor in the face

and you definitely didn’t mean to have to take him to the hospital because apparently, your hot neighbor was allergic to peaches

who’s fucking allergic to peaches?

yang jungwon, apparently

you didn’t even know what he looked like until you had to drive him to the hospital in your stupid beat up toyota bc his face was bright red and splotchy

and he kept itching it

which then meant that you had to swat at his hand every so often

it was not the first impression you wanted to make on such a pretty man

you vividly remember sitting in the waiting room, knee bouncing in fear that you may have accidentally killed the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life

or that you would have to pay his hospital bills for the rest of his life

fuck american healthcare (and the collegiate system)

only to find out that he was absolutely fine. in fact. he knew the doctor there. not only did he know the doctor. he worked for the doctor. 

he had insurance.

you had been betrayed.

not really. you didn’t exactly give him a chance to tell you that you didn’t need to take out a debt creating loan to pay his hospital bills

you were too busy trying not to cry as you sped down the interstate in hopes that your decision to take the toyota instead of paying another $4000 for the ambulatory fee was the correct decision

it was.

so when jungwon walks out with an itemized bill and a sheepish, almost silly smile, you nearly fall to your knees in gratitude in the middle of the waiting room

you’re pretty sure that some of those people are convinced jungwon beat cancer bc of the relief on your face when you see the 0 next to copay on the bill

you could kiss jungwon but his face still looks a little too splotchy to be doing that

and you tell him as much but he just laughs, shaking his head a little bit

“so you’re saying you would kiss me if i didn’t look so splotchy?”

“i’m saying i’m going to kiss your insurance provider and i’m switching mine to yours today.”

anyway

after nearly losing your hot neighbor to justin bieber’s hit song, you finally start getting closer to him

it turns out that you had meant to pie yours and jungwon’s mututal friend and down the hall neighbor, jake sim, from whom he was renting out the apartment for the summer

but jake had the reflexes of a fucking ninja and had ducked and jungwon had the privilege of being pied instead

you had knocked on jake’s door and as soon as someone opened the door, you pied them with no thoughts and no turnback

jungwon had opened the door though, and the rest was history

you guys had a very neighborly relationship

jungwon would come home after a long day of summer classes, internships, and work and you cook jungwon (peach-less) baked goods that he could die for

and when you would complain abt your broke ass, he would buy enough groceries for the two of you and you would go to his place or he would come to yours

the stubborn struggling artist in you always protested

“i can’t let you buy this for me! groceries are so expensive nowadays!”

“if it makes you feel better, these aren’t organic. in fact that avocado looks like it’s on life support.”

“...”

but you also end up coming over to his place whenever he has a quick repair or smth bc the landlord doesn’t know a screw from a lightbulb

so he insists that it all cancels out in the end

but you hates taking jungwon’s help (or any help in general you stubborn ass)

so you got onto the summer job hunt grind

but it was pretty late, almost the middle of june, and not many places were hiring

thankfully, jake sim was loaded

and he was going to europe for the rest of the summer

randomly

bc apparently that’s what rich people do

so you were able to take his role temporarily at the local dance studio that jake taught at

not that jake needed the money

but he said smth about “passing on the passion” and “encouraging the next generation of dancers”

you kinda stopped listening once you saw pics of him in leotards that left nothing to the imagination

scrubbing the mental image from your mind was hard enough

you weren’t the best ballet dancer, but you had danced for 10 years in contemporary before a foot injury knocked you out of dancing for good

so you definitely had the experience (and a semi-healed foot) that you needed

and besides! as an education major, you needed experience with working with students anyway

or at least that’s what you tell yourself

because you forget how terrifying little human beings are until you step into the studio

and every single one of them is wearing some lululemon or aritzia variation

and you’re...kinda just wearing your old tights and a loose shirt

not in a quirky “i’m not like other dancers” type of way

a more humble “i can’t afford luxury brands” type of way

no shame in the college grind game

but other than the fact that you felt like you were on an episode of dance moms every day, the classes weren’t that bad

the kids were pretty polite and they generally didn’t really mind that they had a new teacher - although one of them did say that jake was really good eye candy

and that you were gorgeous but not really their type

hey. you’re gorgeous. you’re everyone’s type. in fact, they’d be lucky if you were one’s type.

but you’re also thankful bc it’d be really awkward if your prepubescent students had a crush on you...

speaking of crushes

jungwon was fucking oblivious to yours

he says shit that makes you think that he’s caught on

that he knows that you would cosplay anastasia steele for the rest of your life if it meant he went for a roll in the hay with you

or you know, took you out on a nice, romantic date

you don’t really know how it works nowadays

but every time you think you’ve been discovered, he proceeds to completely do a 180

one time, the two of you were sitting on the couch watching, aptly enough, the notebook

when jungwon leans over incriminatingly, close enough to kiss you and you’re just about to turn your head, excited that jungwon has decided to make the first move

only for him to grab the remote and turn up the volume

which, in hindsight, does nothing to confirm that jungwon feels the same way about you as you feel about him

but it doesn’t really matter

we live in a delusional world and you’re the reigning monarch so it all works in your head

but other than the fact that you were most definitely crushing on your neighbor

the two of you were basically inseparable

it was like some higher being wanted you to suffer

bc you and jungwon got along SO WELL

and he just...didn’t even connect the dots

or if he did, he didn’t say anything about the tension between you two (that you might’ve accidentally somewhat have made up)

but all in all, jungwon and you had a pretty nice summer

some days you’d go to the beach and just watch the stars while drinking beers

some days you’d go to the little kiddie theme park that the neighboring town has just because their fried ice cream was insanely good

“we’re probably going to get diabetes, three different heart conditions, and certified obesity from these things.”

“...well the universe shouldn’t have made the human body too weak for fried ice cream then.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that fried ice cream simply should just not exist?”

“never.”

that summed up pretty much your entire friendship with jungwon

but no matter how close you became with him, it still felt like he was holding himself back a little bit - although, it killed you, you understood

for starters, he’d disappear off the face of the planet for two or three days before coming back to you with the same calm yet insane energy that only jungwon could carry

on top of that, he seemed to be losing a lot of weight lately - which was probably what was leading to the hair loss as well

and whenever you guys weren’t hanging out, he was pretty much always at the hospital

you’d mentioned gently a couple times that you were worried for him bc you were worried that his job was working him too hard (so as to not tip him off)

(hence the long hours at the hospital and the weight/hair loss)

but jungwon always gave you a tight smile and changed the subject

so you slowly learned to just drop it and not push him

you had no clue that jungwon was struggling with how to tell you the truth behind all those hours and the weight loss

you had no clue that jungwon was head over heels in love with you

you, y/n l/n, were completely unaware that jungwon knew exactly how you felt because he felt the same exact way

you had no clue that you were catching feelings for the terminally ill jungwon yang - according to jungwon yang

jungwon had liked you from the beginning, honestly

the almost comical way you fretted over him when you accidentally pied him, only to see rashes on his neck

the way that your eyes would light up when you were talking about how you wanted to teach

the way that your nose crinkled when jungwon brought home asparagus for you to experiment with one day

the way your eyes fall to his lips and then back up hurriedly, as if you’re scared that he’s going to find out you like him the same way that he likes you

which he does.

but jungwon yang also has terminal cancer.

which meant that he was absolutely never going to tell you about his feelings and let you tell him about yours

because he didn’t want to know that when he left this earth, he left someone who loved him behind on it

he’s scared

he’s scared that you wouldn’t move on (was that his ego speaking? perhaps)

or that you wouldn’t understand why jungwon had taken so long to acknowledge his feelings

or worst of all, jungwon was so fucking terrified that you would leave his side if you knew that he had terminal cancer

because that’s a burden that not many people were willing to take on voluntarily

so he stuff his feelings down deep into his stomach, where his heart can’t reach them

and it is the one thing that he regrets most

little does he know that you’re well aware of the fact that jungwon had cancer

jake had called you one day, out of breath and shaken to the core with worry

his friend jungwon had called jake and collapsed mid-call, three days before you met jungwon officially, and the line had gone silent

jake had begged you to drive jungwon to the hospital

which you obviously did, the second you found jake’s spare key

and managed to haul jungwon into your beat up toyota

and even in his semi-conscious state, you couldn’t help but think that he was the most gorgeous person that you’d ever seen in your life

and that you really wanted to get to know him

jungwon never knew that you were the one who had driven him to the hospital, since jake was the only one in the room when he awoke, finding out from the doctor that he had collapsed due to the toll of treatment on his body

you’d instructed jake to keep the news of you driving jungwon a secret

jungwon’s cancer wasn’t exactly public information, and you hated to think that jungwon would have a certain impression of you and that you’d never be able to speak to him normally

which is why you figure that jungwon simply just doesn’t want to want anyone at this point in his life

but you can’t help it

you like him so much that it starts to hurt

and you have to let it out

you have to tell him just how much you love him

before the love starts eating you from inside out

jungwon is silent when you blurt it out one day, while the two of you are standing in the kitchen, cooking with a random louis armstrong song playing in the background

you’re somewhat aware of what jungwon is going to say before he says it

but you let him say it anyway

“i’m not sure i want to get into a relationship right now.”

“that’s fine. i didn’t tell you because i wanted you to respond; i told you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

the louis armstrong song just continues to play and the two of you continue to cook in silence

it never grows awkward between the two of you

even with your feelings out in the open, everything stays the same

the two of you still tiptoe the line of friends and something more without ever crossing over to the other side

until that one day

jungwon had planned to finally put his big boy pants on and tell you how he feels

fuck the cancer

fuck his hesitation

fuck everything

he just wanted you to know that he liked you too

and that you were the reason why he was still smiling and dancing his way through this summer, even though he’d thought that he wouldn’t be able to smile like that anymore

he was all ready too

he’d gotten you flowers, put on your favorite song and cooked you your favorite food

he pushes down the funny feeling in his stomach that had been bugging him for the past couple of days, chalking it up to nerves because he was finally acting on his feelings

but that would be the nail in the coffin

the last thing that jungwon remembered was the feeling of swaying before falling to the floor, seeing jake sim’s shoes run over to where he was

and then everything went black

when jungwon woke up, the doctor had to inform him once again that he had collapsed

that the funny feeling in his stomach was no silly joke, but the cancer attacking him from inside out aggressively

they tell him that they had to perform emergency surgery to replace his kidney, which was damaged beyond repair, something that no one had been able to trace previously

he was lucky, the doctor said to them

there was a patient who was in a car crash in the operating next to him and the kidney had been in perfect condition

the doctor continued, saying how lucky jungwon was that the kidney had been compatible for his body, stating that the likelihood of his body being able to beat the cancer that had been destroying him increasing significantly

but jungwon isn’t listening

everything felt wrong.

jungwon could feel it in his heart

it wasn’t right

he swallows and asks the doctor the name of the patient

but he knows the doctor cannot reveal information like that

it doesn’t matter

once he sees jake burst through the doors, tears streaming down his cheeks, jungwon knows

“it was her, wasn’t it.”

jake just falls to his knees, sobs wracking his body and the doctor sees himself out

“she wanted me to tell you that she was happy that it was her before you.”

jungwon just falls back against the pillow, staring up the ceiling, unable to feel or think of anything

he just felt numb

even at your funeral, just a week later, jungwon is unable to think

he’s numb

completely frozen

unable to move on

and when he’s asked to pay his respects, all he can do is touch your coffin, his tears finally falling

“i’m so grateful you pied me in the face that day, y/n. i wish i had - i wish i had told you, i like you too. and i’ll get pied in the face with a truckload of peaches if it meant that you could come back to me. to come back to me to at least let me tell you that i like you. the same way you like me.”

he laughed cynically through his tears.

“you don’t have to respond. i just wanted to tell you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

jungwon never falls in love again after that, unable to forget the memories the two of you had shared in that short but sweet summer.

and every year, on the year that you’d given your life to jungwon, he eats a peach pie, wishing that you were there to chide him and eat it with you, louis armstrong playing in the background

[alienoresimagines]

I wish you would write a fic (canon era, modern au, any setting really) where Buck is sick and Bucky fusses over him. Maybe with Buck’s head in Bucky’s lap?

I loved your fic of Bucky watching Buck sleep, so anything with that type of vibe? ❤️

I don't know the difference between a snippet and an actual fic so this is 1.4k 😅 But hey, Gale's awake for this one! Thank you so much for this inspiring ask, I've been writing angst for a week so going back to fluff felt really good 🥰❤️ Featuring : A sick Gale and a worrywart Bucky Also on AO3 Find my other Mota fics here

"Do you need anything ? Blanket ? Water ?" His hands hover over Gale's shivering form but the other weakly bats his hand away when John reaches out to check his fever.

"M'fine, Bucky." Gale's usual deep voice is now raspy and hoarse from too much coughing and Bucky winces in sympathy, knowing how much just saying those few words must've hurt. It also happens to be one of the biggest lies he's ever heard, on the top of his list with Buck's other countless "I'm fine"s he's heard since meeting the other. Bucky's only slightly exasperated.

"Like hell you are." He grumbles unhappily but fondness rounds the edge of every word as he fusses with the army issued blankets until only two unimpressed, slightly hazy with fever, blue eyes could be seen above the green fabric. John has to physically suppress a coo at the sight, sure it wouldn't be welcome, and very much not in the mood to wrestle Gale back in bed a second time.

He's honestly surprised the other held on for as long as he did considering the entire 100th had fallen victim to a nasty cold in the past two weeks, even Bucky himself. Buck had nursed him back to health and despite the pounding headache he remembers, John had enjoyed every minute of it. He would've enjoyed it a lot more though, if this stubborn sweetheart of a man hadn't also decided to take as much of a workload as he could while the rest of them were bedridden, disregarding any signs of his own degrading health.

A hand pulls on his sleeve until he sits on the edge of the bunk, the heat from Gale's body warming his side even through two blankets. Those pills better kick in soon or John might just die from worry. Over a damn cold.

Well, that's not exactly true. Even if the depth of his feelings for Gale still scares him absolutely shitless, he's past the shameful stage of denial. A mere small splinter would be enough to have him worried sick if it was in Gale's finger. But, he considers, maybe he went a bit overboard when he tucked Gale in with all the blankets available. Perhaps just four would be enough... which is why he lets Gale, although unhappily, drop some of the blankets on the bunk next to him. His mouth opens then closes with a click at Buck's glare.

Three blankets it was.

Gale settles again under the remaining covers, graciously letting John adjust them until his neck is covered. His lips, despite being chapped and not as pink as usual, still look so inviting that Bucky has to physically stop himself from pressing his own lips to Buck's. Three days he's been deprived of Gale's kisses and he has never wanted anything more in his life - except for Gale himself. During the two days he was sick, Buck had imposed a no-kissing-on-the-lips rule, much to his own chagrin but he respected Gale's boundary and need for cleanliness. Besides, it's not like he wanted to get Gale sick. And today, on the day he'd been longingly awaiting for 48 endless hours, Buck himself was sick and would refuse Bucky's kisses, he knows. It doesn't stop him from gazing mournfully at those plump lips.

"I was really looking forward to those kisses." He whines dramatically in a defeated sigh, a pang of fondness in his chest at Buck's own saddened eyes. He hasn't been alone in his longing, and the thought sends warmth through his body. Yet, coldness courses through him as he watches guilt overcome sadness when Gale turns his head sideways to avoid looking at him.

"M'sorry." All theatrics forgotten, a frown crosses his face immediately. He leans closer to Buck's face, gently sweeping his hair of his forehead and then cupping his flushed cheek to stroke over a high cheekbone until Gale looks at him.

"Hey, Buck. Listen to me." With his thumb, he tenderly frees Gale's bottom lip from the cage of his teeth. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. Damn cold got everyone, it's no surprise it'd get you too. Nothing shameful 'bout that, okay?"

Later, when the other isn't as miserable as now, John will grouch to him about working himself to the bone instead of going to see Smokey as soon as he’d started feeling bad. Later, he'll make Gale promise to come to him too, if he doesn't feel like talking to their flight surgeon.

The thing is, Gale is John's safe place. With him, he doesn't have to worry about talking too much, touching too much -as much as he could in public- being too much. He just wishes Gale would allow John to be his safe place too. And he knows that Gale allowing him to see that vulnerable side of his is already a huge show of trust. But he wants Gale to trust him not only to catch him when he falls but also to lean on him when he misses a step or falters just a bit.

For now though, he accepts the small nod he gets and relishes in the soft, barely there up of the corners of his lips, which blooms into a sweet smile when Bucky leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"As soon as you're back on your feet, I'm kissing you 'till you push me away." He promises against the too-warm skin of Buck's forehead before pulling back and grinning down at him. Gale looks amused, if a bit tired, but the light in his eyes is one of amused defiance. Even if he doesn't speak, Bucky hears him anyway and it sends thrills of anticipation down his spine. Just a few days more.

There's a moment of silence as John mindlessly plays with sweaty golden strands until Buck blinks slow and long and Gale's warm hand slips into his under the blanket. He has to bite his lips to keep the dopey smile from his face but he does stroke his thumb back and forth the expanse of Gale's knuckles. Shivers still wrack his form, though they did subside a bit compared to minutes ago. It's not nearly enough for Bucky.

"You sure I can't get you anything ?" Buck audibly groans as he opens his eyes just enough to show Bucky just how hard he's rolling his eyes and John snickers sheepishly. He raises the hand not in Gale's soft grip in mock surrender, the amused glint in sky-blue eyes only spurring him on. 

"Sorry, sorry. But really, do you need anything ?" Gale licks his lips once and oh, John knows that look. It's as adorable as it makes his heart ache, the way Gale doesn't look him in the eyes. He thinks of a young boy, barely knee tall, not daring to ask his father anything and imperceptibly clenches his jaw. Softly squeezing Buck's hand in his, he smiles encouragingly when the other faces him.

"Anything, Gale." Tired eyes look at him for a moment, searching for something but John isn't sure what. He keeps his face open, knowing perfectly well there's no way he could hide how he feels about the other man when no one is around. Gale must find whatever he's looking for because he bites his lip slightly, seemingly pleased and content, if a little shy.

John is keeping a tally of how many kisses he's been robbed of.

Minutely, Gale starts scooting over and John huffs a laugh but obediently sits in the spot just vacated, back leaning on the metal headboard. He's barely put his legs on the blankets that Gale immediately presses in close to rest his head on John's lap like a cat pressing his head on his hand until he gets pets.

Bucky might just die of adoration for this sweet, sweet man he's blessed to call his.

He's half convinced the other will start purring when he strokes his fingers through his hair, nails slightly scratching at his scalp like he knows Buck likes but Gale only presses even closer to him until his body is one hot line against John's leg, a happy hum leaving him. He's asleep in one minute flat, face buried in Bucky's lap as the latter keeps playing with his hair, eyes not leaving the even rise and fall of his back.

John's so, so in love that he wonders how he ever thought he wasn't Gale's safe place just as much as Gale was his.

[sotwk]

Cinder Girl (Fíli x unnamed OC)

Summary: The Crown Prince of Erebor faces the dilemma of losing his heart to a lovely yet humble palace servant.

Word count: 2.4 k

Content: Fluffy, tropey romance and comfort, Durins Live AU, post-BotFA, class division, love confession, Pining Prince Fíli

Rating: General (no warnings apply)

To Read on AO3: Link

Dedication and Inspiration: Thank you to the Anon who inspired this concept long ago by sending me this message! <3

Also for my friend, @guardianofrivendell, a true Fíli aficionado with an incredible repertoire of fics of our beloved Dwarf Prince. You probably don't remember, but this fic fulfills the "Love Confessions" request you made from my Valentine Event in 2023! Better late than never? Welcome back! <3

Cinder Girl 

The Reclaimed Kingdom of Erebor

Third Age 2945

What to do, what to do? The proper thing, of course. The decision should be that simple, and it usually was so for Fíli.  

Except now. Except when it came to her. 

The young dwarf lord tugged on the beaded braid of his mustache and leaned forward in the cushioned bench on which he sat. He made a motion to stand, only to plop back down again with a frustrated grunt. He had been dithering that way for the last ten minutes, at least. 

And he had spent twice as long sitting there, only half ashamed of allowing himself to enjoy the sight that surprised him when he returned to his chambers following a day-long council meeting. 

I am just looking, is all, Fíli reminded himself, desperate to excuse his poor manners. He knew the right thing to do would be to gently wake her, assure her that she was in no trouble, and allow her to discreetly exit the room she should never have been caught in. 

Surely this was a sign. A gift from Mahal himself, to force his stubborn, weak arse into action. Yet there he was again, he who was hailed as the Lion of Erebor, one of the bravest warriors in the kingdom, just sitting there stupidly, staring as he always did, because he could never find neither strength nor courage to do anything else in the presence of this dwarrowdam that stole the very breath from his lungs. 

Even as she lay there on the lush fur rug by the fireplace, in a cozy warmth that likely had lulled her to sleep, her presence paralyzed him. She was that very rare gem, found only once in a generation, exquisite in itself without need for cutting or polishing, or settings of gold, or other fine stones to accompany it. 

"Beyond beautiful," Fíli thought, and his chest filled with both longing and wonderment of how utterly she had ensnared him with so little effort, with such little awareness of the effect she caused.

She had dazzled Fíli the moment she cast her first smile and first spoke his name, and from then on the prince was blind to all others. When she laughed, Fíli finally understood why his brother Kíli constantly acted the fool just to earn that sweet sound from his own lady’s lips.

And so Fíli neglected to mention the titles that accompanied his name, and as a result he was able to enjoy hours of conversations with the newcomer from the Blue Mountains, basking in her uninhibited laughter and open stories and playful touches.

But the ruse would not last even a month. When she finally discovered that the new “friend” who had welcomed her to Erebor was actually King Thorin’s heir, next-in-line to the throne of Durin, an invisible wall rose between them. She never laughed in the same way around him again. She remained friendly and kind, yes, but every action toward him was suddenly restrained by prim courtesy. Their once animated conversations were dampened by measured, cautious responses. Even her beautiful smile was dimmed by a strange sadness, as though the knowledge of his royal identity disappointed her. 

"Please, you don't have to…" he said, when he once tried to stop her from bowing to him as they passed each other in the hall. 

"It is only proper, my lord," she murmured, keeping her lovely eyes lowered to her feet, only doubling Fíli's frustrations. "I bid you a good day, Prince Fíli."

And she hurried away with her cleaning pail in tow, before Fíli could offer to help, before he could muster up the nerve to invite her to dinner, which was why he had come down to the servants’ hall in the first place. All he had succeeded in doing was send the tongues of the palace domestic staff wagging. 

Eventually Fíli's despair grew heavy enough that he sought Balin's counsel, daring not to broach the topic with the one person who could completely relieve him of his fear: that no future was possible between the Heir of Durin and a dwarf not only from a different clan, but without rank or advantages. 

Balin remained silent while Fíli laid out his entire predicament--during the prince’s impassioned speech, and a long while after. Too long, so much that the thoughtful calm Fíli usually admired in his sagacious old cousin only set his teeth on edge.

“I must say this is troubling news to hear indeed,” Balin finally spoke, tugging thoughtfully at his beard.

“Troubling?!” Fíli exclaimed. “How could you already deem it as such when you have not yet met her? What matters her lack of status when she is the sweetest and gentlest soul to ever bless me with her company?! That is, until she decided she could no longer tolerate my presence,” he amended glumly. 

“Calm yourself, boy.” Balin chuckled between sips of his ale. “You have only ever raved this passionately about very few things before, and never about a bonnie lass. For a moment I thought I might actually be speaking to Kíli.”

“That isn't close to either the comfort or counsel I was hoping for, Balin.”

“Harrumph. That is because I have neither of those things for you, lad! What you need is to be slapped back into your senses!” Balin shook a stout finger at the dwarf-prince. “Have you so little knowledge or faith in your Uncle that you could not bring this matter straight to him?”

Fíli drew back, eyebrows lifted in bewilderment. “I thought he would scoff at the frivolity of it, before declaring my desire for her as unsuitable.”

“Because the girl is common?” Balin snorted when Fíli nodded. “It would wound Thorin so deeply to hear this, that I shall not even bother repeating your words to him.” He reached across the dinner table to grip Fíli’s arm. “Your Uncle risked his life, risked everything to take back this Mountain for you, my boy. To give you the future that he felt you deserved. Do you think that future is all about gold?”

Balin smiled and slapped Fíli gently on his slack-jawed face. “It is about choice, and freedom. The freedom to chase whatever dreams you wish. Go and speak to Thorin. It appears there is much he needs to clarify about his expectations of you as the realm’s prince and his heir.” 

Fíli had genuinely intended to heed Balin’s advice to discuss things with his uncle. But after failing to quickly gain an audience with the chronically busy king, he let his nerves conquer him yet again, as he put off pursuing that conversation. And so day after day passed with him stuck in the plight of his own making… leading at last to that evening, when the source of his agony literally lay right before him inside his own chambers, demanding to be dealt with.

The more time passed with him just sitting and staring at the sleeping chambermaid, the longer each minute seemed to stretch, and the more ridiculous Fili felt in his inertness. 

Just when his frustration came to its peak, and he felt unable to tolerate himself any longer, the prince rose quietly and stepped towards the figure on the fur rug. 

A pounding knock barely gave him any warning before his chamber door swung wide open and Kili barreled inside. “Did you not say you were starving, brother? What is taking you so--??”

Kili stopped short, his wide-eyed stare darting between Fili and the lady that had stumbled to her feet, disheveled and disoriented. It was impossible to tell who looked more mortified by his arrival. 

“Have I… am I interrupting something?”

“I am so very sorry, milords!” the maiden blurted out. “I didn't mean to, I---I am so--!” Her ashen face suddenly colored by the violence of her embarrassment, she grabbed her cleaning pail from the hearth. The contents rattled inside the metal bucket, so badly did her hands shake as she gave a hasty curtsy to the royal princes.

“N-no, no wait, please… h-hold on for just a moment--” Fili began, when his tongue finally came unstuck from the roof of his mouth, but it was too late. She rushed across the room and straight out the open door without ever lifting her gaze off the ground. 

“Brother, I am sorry, I didn't know--”

Fili brushed aside the apology and scrambled past Kili to fly out into the hallway. Panic had broken through his earlier paralysis and suddenly he could not move fast enough, his body acting beyond the constraints of his judgment. 

He called after her; the sound of her name and his footsteps chased her down the empty corridor. But to Fili's dismay she did not stop or even slow down, and just as she was about to turn a corner and descend the stairs leading from the palace wing, a desperate shout escaped containment, partially strangled in the tightness of his throat, but still too loud to be ignored. 

“I love you, all right?! I love you!!”

The frantic clatter of the metal pail ceased, and all Fili could hear against the ensuing silence was the roar of his pulse beneath his ears. In several strides, he closed the distance to come before the maiden. She stayed rooted to the spot and motionless, apart from the heaving of her bosom as she chased her breath. 

“This was not how I wanted you to find out.” The calm in his own voice surprised Fili, as did the confidence that drove his words. “But I also do not wish to take it back. Hiding from the truth has gained me nothing but pain.”

“I appreciate your candor, milord, and I regret your pain.” She continued to address him, but her eyes remained firmly lowered towards her hands, white-knuckled in their grip around the pail handle. “But what am I to do with these fine words you offer? How can a peasant be worthy to receive the affections of a prince?”

“Worthy?” Fíli repeated in distaste. “What causes you to believe that you must be worthy to--?”

“You are the future King of Erebor.” She spoke loudly over him, as though she had not heard him at all, or was determined not to. “The blood of Durin the Deathless runs in you! I am just a nobody from a Broadbeam village in the Blue Mountains--” 

“I was born in such a village, same as my father!” Fíli cut her off with matching fervor. “And you are certainly not ‘just a nobody’ to me.”

Something in his words finally reached her, for at last she raised her bowed head ever so slightly, just enough for her gaze to meet his, and the tears that shimmered in her eyes wiped away the last of his hesitation.

“We are not different, ghivashel. Not in any way that matters.”

Her smile that bloomed at that word, one that proclaimed her more precious than any treasure in Erebor, revived a light in him that had gone out in the long weeks of her absence. 

When Fíli reached out to relieve her of the cleaning pail, she did not resist. Grasping her wrist, he rested her open hand upon his. He swept his thumb back and forth all across her palm, over the red scrapes and dirt-streaked calluses that made her all the more beautiful and admirable in his eyes.

“Not long ago, I spent each waking day with my face smeared in soot, my arms and hands burnt from the blaze of forge fires, aching to the bone after hours of back-breaking labor.”

He pushed up his tunic sleeve to show her: the patches of discolored skin from old burns, the countless scars that littered the entire length of his arm, almost to his elbow. 

“But I would always go to bed happy, and proud of my honest living, of the smith that I was.” He shook his head and corrected himself. “The smith that I am. Whatever titles and additional duties I may now carry as a consequence of my inheritance, I am still that same soot-covered dwarf.”

He sealed her hand between his two and lightly kissed the fingertips that peeked out from the cage of his palms.

“All I ask is for a chance to show you that,” he said softly. “With the hope that you might come to love what you see in me. For I have already, absolutely, fallen in love with everything I see in you.”

Her silence filled the entire length of the passageway, all the way up to the high ceilings. Under the crushing weight of its persistence, Fíli’s hope started to falter. But as the fear of his failure to convince her started to creep in, his grip all the more tightened around her hand. He couldn't let go. He did not know how he could ever let her go.

“From the first day we met,” she finally spoke. “I already loved everything I saw in you…Fíli of the Blue Mountains.” She tipped her chin up and squared her shoulders, face set with resolution alongside her gentle smile. “I think that love can bring me the courage I need to let the other side of you, Prince Fíli of Erebor, into my heart as well.” 

Fíli’s entire being swelled with such relief and unbridled joy he thought he might catch flame. His arms found themselves around her waist, drawing her close to his desire to demonstrate the feelings he had restrained for too long.

Alas, a sudden and deafening crash rang through the hall to cut off Fíli’s eager quest.  “Sorry, sorry!” yelped a guilty voice in the shadows.

Fíli groaned, then chuckled, and settled for another chase kiss upon his lady’s hand. 

“Would you care to have dinner with my brother and I?” he asked her, nodding in the direction of the ruckus as Kíli struggled to straighten up the decorative suit of armor he had knocked over. “An unrepentant snoop he may be, but I can assure you he is otherwise harmless and actually quite pleasant company.”

“It sounds like a wonderful start to getting to know the rest of you,” she said, eyes bright from their shared laughter, free of even a speck of her earlier doubts. “Because I very much would like to know everything, Fíli. To discover and delight in every wonderful bit of you.”

“And you shall have that,” Fíli vowed, brushing his thumb over the curve of her cheek, over an ashy mark of the fireplace cinders that had brought her back to him. “You already do have me, but I shall also endeavor to give the whole world to make you happy.”

“You are already the whole world,” she declared, and rose on her toes to do what he could not, sealing their confessions with a sound kiss.

For more SotWK Fanfiction: Fanfiction Masterlist

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Headcanon Masterlist

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 1400+

Warnings: none I think

I originally planned to post this tomorrow, but it's already finished anyway, so..👀

Enjoy 🫣

Part IV | Part VI

Lucien sighed, adjusting his coat nervously. He was walking towards his former home in Spring Court and gathering courage to enter the manor. It had been a long time since he ran away with Feyre, leaving Tamlin and his destroyed court behind. Even though Lucien didn't agree with all decisions High Lord made, everyone makes mistakes and deserves another chance. Tamlin was his best friend for decades, he saved him and gave him post in his court. He already paid enough for his bad decisions. It was time to repay his kindness.

Lucien halted in front of the massive oak doors, looking around. This place changed so much that it was unrecognisable. Falling plaster, broken doors and windows, damaged staircases, greenery going wild, slowly swallowing the building. Shiver ran down his spine, the guilt making his insides twist. It spoke a lot about the state of his friend too.

He let out a long breath, imagining all possible scenarios from being ignored to childish fight. Lucien snorted amused and shaking his head walked through the entrance doors. Ignoring disaster around, he let his senses to lead him. As soon as he turned around the corner on a hall leading to Tamlin's bedchamber, he spotted his friend.

Tamlin just came out, fastening shirt cuffs. He paid him no attention even though he certainly knew Lucien was there. As expected.

"I'm glad to see you looking so good, my Lord," Lucien bowed with light smirk on his face. "Honestly I was afraid I would find you in worse state."

Tamlin passed around him without any acknowledgement. Lucien followed falling into step behind him.

"I'm worried about you," he tried it again being met with stubborn silence. "Would you mind to at least tell me how have you been all that time?" Nothing. They were almost back in the entrance hall. Lucien narrowed eyes on his back. "She's worried about you too."

"Leave me alone," Tamlin growled without looking back.

"Could we possibly sit down and talk? As before.." Lucien's hand shot up for Tamlin's forearm, lightly touching it to stop him and make him meet his eyes.

"No," Tamlin snapped, easily shaking Lucien's hand off. "There's nothing to talk about. You helped her to turn this place into this," he gestured around, "and ran away without even looking back."

"Tam.." his words failed him probably for the first time in his life. Tamlin was partly right, but Lucien already felt guilty enough even without being reminded of it. "Please."

"Return to your new home."

Lucien gritted his teeth. "It isn't my home," he muttered stopping on the threshold.

Surprisingly Tamlin halted, too, and finally looked at him. Lucien noticed that his friend lost a lot of weight ever since he saw him last time. He looked tired, tensed, pain written in his face. But his eyes.. There was something in them, a small spark of life. Of joy even. When Feyre left him for the first time, his lifeless eyes used to be full of sadness, hurt and torment. This was so different from what Lucien expected. It piqued his curiosity.

Tamlin's mouth moved as if he wanted to say something. "I'm sorry," he mumbled and ran down the marble stairs.

"Where are we going?" Lucien asked, smirk spreading on his face as he caught up with him again.

Tamlin stopped so abruptly that Lucien almost bumped into him and lost another eye on a claw pointed at him. "You go nowhere," he growled lowly.

"Fine," Lucien grinned widely, raising his hands in surrender. "Understood. I'm not invited."

Tamlin narrowed his green eyes on him. Giving him a small nod he started running, turning into his animal form between the steps. In a blink of eye he was gone.

"Very well, my friend. Let's see who is that spark for," Lucien murmured to himself still grinning widely.

Winnowing for short distances to keep up with too fast High Lord, Lucien followed Tamlin deep into the woods. Only when he slowed down to a leisure walk and changed back into fae, Lucien stopped and hid behind a massive trunk. Peeking out inconspicuously he watched his friend heading towards small cottage.

Lucien had never been in this part of the forest, but he knew this place instantly. He frowned. What are you doing here, Tam, he thought. He could only hope his friend had already learnt his lesson and wasn't up to something bad again.

Lucien's fingers curled into fists as he watched Tamlin to knock. It took mere seconds and the door opened. A beautiful young female with long shiny hair stepped out, smiling kindly. His jaw dropped at the scene in front of him. Tamlin smiled while talking with the female, his posture relaxed. From a far it looked like a friendly conversation. Lucien couldn't hear a single word, but soon enough Tamlin bid her farewell and turning into animal he sprinted away deeper into the forest.

Female stayed out looking in the direction Tamlin disappeared. Lucien waited until he was sure his friend is too far to hear him and winnowed closer to the cottage.

"I thought my friend is living in despair and meanwhile he's found a lovely company," he purred leaning against a tree.

Female yelped in surprise turning to face him. "Who are you?" she asked carefully, taking a step back, one hand reaching out behind her, trying to reach for the door.

"That's what I should ask you," Lucien smirked. "Easy. I mean no harm."

Female frowned and took another step back. She tried really hard to look strong, unmoved, but Lucien noticed small tremor of her fingers.

He flashed a smile that supposed to look kind, and straightened. "I'm Lucien, Tamlin's friend," he bowed with hand on his chest. "May I know your name, my lady?"

Female took another step back, now almost at the threshold. She seemed to not like his ironic politeness. Lucien waited for her answer, head tilted to the side. When it seemed she wouldn't answer, he sighed.

"Okay," he slowly stalked closer, narrowing eyes at her petite form. "I'm worried about my friend. And now I'm even more worried because I just saw him talking with a - let's say," he pretended to think about his next words, smile never leaving his lips, "female with a not so good reputation. I wonder what he wants from you and more importantly what you want from him."

"I want nothing," she said calmly, looking straight into his eyes even though her fingers trembled even more now.

"What a brave little thing," he grinned. "So what was he doing here?"

"He just came to.." she blushed, her face flustered. "He came to tell me he's going hunting."

Lucien arched a brow. "Why would he do such a thing? Do you know each other so well?"

She hesitated. So not so well. "Oh, beauty. Just spit it out. I won't bite you," he rolled his eyes, starting to be annoyed. Tamlin could return any minute and he still didn't have answers. "How do you know High Lord?"

"I found him wounded in the forest," she muttered.

"And I'm supposed to believe you didn't curse him?" Lucien tried to joke, but she took it seriously.

"Why should I do so? Not that I could do such a thing," she frowned even further.

"It was joke, girl," he gaped at her. "What happened? How did he get hurt?"

"I don't know. He's never told me. I was nearby when I heard painful roars and went to check it out."

"I see," he said thoughtfully, his gaze taking her in from head to toe. Female was telling truth all along.

"I just offered him shelter and food," she stated, hand already on handle. So Tamlin kept visiting her because she helped him. As far as he could say, she really had no powers even though she looked like high fae. After all she was just a harmless female who lit up the spark in Tamlin's eyes. A huge stone fell from Lucien's chest and he felt lighter instantly. His friend was well taken care of. That was something Lucien could live with.

"You have my gratitude for taking care of him," he smiled genuinely this time. "I'm sorry that I scared you, but you know. Tamlin is my friend and there are certain rumours about you. Now I see it's just rumours. Anyway I'm glad he met you."

She gave him a small nod, slowly closing the door. "One more thing," he stopped her. "I'd appreciate if you don't mention our encounter to Tamlin. At the moment he's still mad at me for a certain reason. He might take it wrong."

She hesitated, so he offered one of his kindest smiles. Finally she nodded and closed the door with a small thud.

Lucien wasted no time. Already hearing sounds of four paws in the forest undergrowth in distance he immediately winnowed away.

[dyns33]

Sentimental weather

A little Morpheus x female reader

I'm less and less good with titles

It was raining.

No, the word was not strong enough.

It was a real torrent, a storm, a hurricane outside, and no one around Y/N seemed to care.

It must have been that, and the fact that she had found herself in this weird and unfamiliar place when she opened her eyes, that she hadn't been worried for more than a minute, before running under a tree to take shelter.

A raven seemed to have had the same idea, even though he thought it stupid, as he let her know.

"It's dangerous to stay under a tree during a thunderstorm."

"Oh, really ?" replied Y/N, who had the feeling that it was not normal for a raven to be able to speak.

"Yeah. Lightning could kill you. But you can't die here. Well, I don't think so. People can die while sleeping, but I don't know if it kills you for real to die in dreams. The boss says that we're real, but when someone is injured while sleeping, they're fine when they wake up, so I'm a bit lost. I have to say, he doesn't explain very well."

"Ravens have bosses ?"

"Not ravens. Me. I'm the raven, thank you. I'm here to assist the boss. Although I'm not much use at the moment. It's kind of his fault too, he doesn't listen. He's stubborn and sensitive. I've been told this isn't the first time this has happened. I really wish the rain would stop, it's been weeks now."

If his boss didn't explain well, the raven wasn't really any better. He continued to complain about the weather, until Y/N woke up. It seemed perfectly logical that this was all a dream, and she didn't think about it for the rest of the day.

But next night, when she opened her eyes again after falling asleep, she was still near the castle, in the pouring rain.

She was a little surprised, but as if it were normal, she went back under the tree, where she found the talking bird.

"Well, you're back." he noted. "And you don't listen to my advice. Just like him. I've been trying to talk to him all day, but no ! It's still raining."

"I don't understand the connection between your boss and the rain."

"It's because he's sad that it's raining. I mean, I can try to understand. He was in love, I think, even though it had only been a month and she wasn't great. I didn't like her at all personally. He struggles with feelings. Words, people… He struggles. He's had a lot of problems. But it's been weeks now, he has to pull himself together and listen to his good mate Matthew ! I can't fly in his conditions !"

As the raven, Matthew, continued to speak, Y/N looked up at the balcony of the castle and saw a man staring at the horizon, standing in the rain and looking terribly sad.

He must have been the famous boss.

Remembering that it was only a dream, and therefore not caring about the consequences of her actions, Y/N ventured towards the castle despite the raven's protests. Still without thinking, she went to the balcony, finding herself next to the man who was causing this storm.

"Hello." she said simply. "Matthew says you're sad and that's why it's raining."

"Matthew seems to say a lot of things except what relates to his job. He has to report when a dreamer gets lost so far."

"I'm not lost, you can't get lost in a dream. I know perfectly well where I am."

"Really ?" asked the man, without turning to her. "And where do you find yourself, little dreamer ?"

"In my bed. Unless I'm sleepwalking, but I don't think so."

"You think, you're not sure. You are wrong, we can get lost in a dream, and get stuck. Better check where you are."

Y/N then opened her eyes, in her bed, as she had said. The rest of the day passed without her thinking about this dream.

When she found herself again in front of the castle, under the storm, she did not go to join the little raven, who sighed when he saw her pass in front of his tree.

Still in the rain, still staring sadly at the hoziron, the boss made no comment as she came to stand next to him.

"Hello again. I was right, I was in my bed if you're interested. Anyway, Matthew talked about heartbreak. Look, I don't pretend to understand how you feel, and maybe it's not my business, but still, you have to move on. It's difficult, okay, but as the poet said, it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved. That's life, you have to live."

This time, the man looked at Y/N, and seeing his eyes, she understood that he was not human. There was something powerful and ancient in his starry eyes. There was also something else she couldn't decipher.

"… I said something similar once, to someone very dear to me." he whispered in a strange voice.

"Well, you have to know how to follow your own advice. Of course it may take time and you can ask for help, but I promise you that everything will be better soon. You deserve it. I don't know you, but you make it rain for love and a raven is worried about you, so you must be nice deep down."

The boss continued to stare at her with a strange look, impossible to read, between admiration, surprise, vexation at having been partially insulted and what looked a bit like love. But that was probably not it. Anyway, Y/N didn't ask, too busy waking up. Again, the events of the night didn't really affect her day.

Except maybe when a raven came tapping her window while she was preparing dinner. She looked at it for a long time, wondering if it was a trained raventhat had gotten lost and was asking for food, but without opening.

"Impolite !" he shouted when she didn't open, concentrating on her saucepan.

"… What ?"

"Crude ! Mean ! Reckless !"

"You can talk ? Are you… Matthew ?" she asked as she let him in, unable to remember when she had gone to bed. Because it had to be a dream.

"Yes, it's me. Sorry, I shouldn't have gotten upset, I forget it's weird to see a talking raven. Thanks for opening up, and remembering my name. The other never remembered it, she was mean."

"The other ? Who?"

"The previous one. Look, I guess you didn't do it on purpose, and I'm quite glad the sun came out, but… You could have been careful, really. We didn't need that."

"I understand absolutely nothing."

"Lord Morpheus isn't sad anymore, thanks to you. Hooray. Except not totally, because… He's in love again."

"Really ? That's a good thing. With who ?"

"Who do you think, Sherlock ?" sighed the raven, staring at her.

"… Oh."

"Yeah, oh. So be nice, you've seen what happens when he's down, please don't break his heart."

"But he doesn't exist. You either, I'm dreaming."

"… Shit. I did well to come. So I'll say it quickly, I'm real, Lord Morpheus is real, what happens in dreams is real, you're not crazy, and my boss is madly in love with you now. Digest the information quickly, please."

Just because the raven said it didn't mean it was true, Y/N could be dreaming or losing her mind. But all the same, dreaming of the same thing four days in a row was not completely normal.

If she decided to believe Matthew, it involved a lot of things and questions she would ask him later. Because there was more urgent.

"… He loves me ? Me ? Why ?"

"You are a beautiful soul, noble and pure, wise, who will perhaps appreciate his company despite all his faults. End of quote."

"That's a bit quick, isn't it ? I don't know him at all, you just told me his name."

"Well, that's not bad enough. Some people get married without even knowing that. If he asks you, say yes !"

"Matthew. Stop it immediately."

The raven jumped with her, moved in front of Y/N as if to protect her, before looking genuinely frightened when he saw his boss, Lord Morpheus, standing in the middle of the living room, the arm crossed and looking displeased.

Obviously the little emissary had not asked permission to come here.

"Hi, boss ! I'm… I was…"

"Again saying things you shouldn't. Leave her alone, go back to the Dreaming and help Lucienne in the library."

"Yes, boss !"

Not wasting a moment, the raven immediately flew out the window. Lord Morpheus watched him disappear into the clouds, before slowly turning towards Y/N. Again, it was hard to know what he was thinking.

"My apologies for the intrusion, and the pressure. Matthew shouldn't have acted like that, but he's impulsive and protective, he thought he was doing the right thing."

"… Is it true that you are real and that you love me ?"

"I heard that these two facts were not very clear." he sighed, looking suddenly embarrassed. "I want to do things right, so I intended to woo you, so as not to rush you, and so that you can know who I am. But if my advances are not welcome, a word from you and I will leave."

It was a way out. It was touching of him, because as he said, Matthew talked a lot, and Matthew said a lot of things that might have made Y/N think it wasn't a good idea to hang out with Lord Morpheus.

He was a complicated being, who had trouble with feelings, people, who was dramatic, stubborn, sensitive, with a difficult past, both in general and in his romantic relationships.

But so were many other people.

"Matthew couldn't tell me if we died in real life after dying in a dream." was Y/N's response. "You said we can get lost, so…"

Lord Morpheus considered what she had just said, understanding that it was an invitation to stay, chat with her, and possibly start his court if he wished to. He smiled slightly as he began to explain to her, and Y/N then realized two things :

It wouldn't be difficult to fall in love with this man, as dangerous as it could be.

Matthew was right, he didn't explain very well.

[green-alm0nd]

hiiiii ! I love your writing :) I was wondering if I could request a echo x reader where it’s sorta like long distance so they only saw each other when they came to pabu or the finale, and if you could make it a hug scene like the ones he shared with omega (like the whole running and jumping blah blah blah) sorry if it’s extensive, thank you ! 🫶

[Echo x gn!reader]: Come back to you

----

----

Summary:

Emerie and Echo left Pabu a few weeks after the events on Tantiss. You haven't heard from him ever since and you hope he comes back.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: TBB S3 FINALE SPOILERS, fluff, kissing, a bit suggestive, a bit of angst. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

----

Since the attack on the beautiful island you settled in, you didn't hear anything else from Echo. Pabu had always managed to rebuild itself, adapt and go back to living normally.

Before the Empire found the small island, you and Echo had been in touch for a while, either from commlink calls or messages. After the events that made Tantiss burn to ashes, Echo came back. But, only for a short time. He left with the doctor, Emerie Karr, to try find safe homes for the remaining clones.

It made you angry, yes. But then again, it was Echo. He'd do anything for his brothers.

----

It had been a few weeks since clouds showed up in Pabu and released the water inside of them. Maybe it was the weight of the Empire on the Universe that made the rain stronger, and the mood seemed to be less...heavy.

You were standing inside your shared apartment, looking at the droplets of water falling. It had always brought a sense of comfort to you.

You had asked Hunter several times if he had any news, to which he'd always shake his head. It made you even more depressed.

If it weren't for the rest of the Batch, you'd be alone. Wrecker always forced you to go out, since he knew you wouldn't do it on your own unless it had to do with news about the rebellion, Rex, or your boyfriend.

You sighed. You truly missed him.

Suddenly, your commlink beeped, and got up. You grabbed your comm, and nervously spoke up. It wasn't the commlink that you and the Bad Batch used, it was a private 'channel' you had with Echo.

"Echo?" You whispered, nervously.

You heard a small hum and chuckle.

"Hey."

Adrenaline shot through your veins at the sound of his voice.

"Wh- What? How? Where are you? Are you okay?" You asked, a thousand questions running through your head.

Though you could only hear his voice, a wave of relief washed your body.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I'm currently in Coruscant, in Rex's Underground level base. We're trying to collect all the remaining stuff before he leaves. I'm helping him out." He explained.

You sighed in relief.

"I'm so happy to hear your voice. Why haven't you said anything for the past three week until now?" You asked.

"I've been very busy. We're still trying to find out anything about the nameless clones. I haven't been...that close to my commlink, either." He said, mumbling the last part.

"It's...fine." You replied.

Echo seemed to pick up your tiredness and your sadness, maybe disappointment even, in your voice.

"How... about you? Are you doing alright?" He softly asked.

"Yeah, I just really miss you." You answered, with a small sigh.

Echo let out a small chuckle.

"I miss you too."

You considered telling about how you felt.

"I'm actually not doing great. It's been a rough few weeks and I really needed you but I'm not sure you were free and I didn't want to bother you and-" You stopped, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I just wish you were here."

Silence came over the comm channel, before Echo finally spoke up.

"I'm coming over." He suddenly said.

Your eyes widened.

"Wha- no! You can't. You're a thousand clicks away-" he cut you off.

"I'm coming over. That's final, okay?"

You sighed. Your boyfriend was stubborn.

"Okay. I'll wait for you." You replied, before he left the comm channel.

...

A few hours later, the dark night sunk into Pabu. Not that it was super visible, as the clouded skies still let the rain fall.

It was endearing to see how much Echo cared for you, even though he was busy most of the time.

You decided to get dressed, and wait for him on the side of the landing platform, below a huge tree root that provided you shelter from the pouring rain.

Your heart rate sped up, and your knees slightly trembled at the sight of a ship, most likely Echo's, approaching the landing platform.

The big shuttle eventually landed on the island, and you took a step forward. The rain didn't matter anymore, not even when it was soaking your clothes and body.

The ramp lowered, and butterflies filled your stomach, taking your breath away.

And there he was, the guy that had stolen your heart the second you saw him walking inside your coffee shop all those months ago; the man that had swore to you loyalty, even if your relationship was distant; your boyfriend. Echo.

He came down the ramp. Just when his feet touched the ground, you ran towards him and hugged him.

Echo hugged back, burying his nose on your neck.

"Hey." He said.

You smiled.

"Hey."

You two stayed there for a long time, not caring about the rain, not caring about anything at all. What mattered was that Echo was there. Your Echo. He was real. It wasn't a dream.

"I missed you so much." You mumbled, bringing your lips close to his.

"I missed you too." He answered, finally pulling you into the kiss you were desperately yearning for for a long time now.

You kissed back, bringing your hands to his hips, as his hand rested on your cheek.

However, his hand lowered to your butt, giving it a light squeeze: enough to make you squeak and let his tongue explore your mouth.

It had been such a long time since you felt him so close to you it almost felt like a dream.

He pulled away.

"We better go home, seems like rain won't be stopping for a while." He suggested smiling.

You nodded.

"Let's go."

Echo had finally come back home.

----

🗣️❗🎵 PARTY WALKERS IN THE YAAARD TONIIIIGHT🎵❗🗣️ (iykyk)

Currently have that cover from sbg in my head

(I am currently in my last two weeks of final exams so requests might take a while)

(Reblogs are highly appreciated <3)

[mazeinthemiroh]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8htpvKT/

this with ateez 🥹🥺

ateez reactions when their s/o decides to sleep in the closet after an argument

genre: fluff!!!, hurt and comfort?

word count: 0.9k

warnings: lots of fluff <3, cursing, not proofread

a/n: that video was so painfully cute i hate couples ew 🤢 i'm jokinnng i'm just bitter ANYWAYS its a very cute idea and this was so fun to write so please enjoy :D

hongjoong

will be sulking in bed for the longest time. he's super stubborn and doesn't want to give in to your guilt-tripping. but you've made him soft. if it where any of the members, he might of held his ground. but for you, he does feel bad and the guilt starts to chip away at him. so he sighs in defeat and gets up, taking a pillow with him as he enters the closet. he'll sink down next to you and look at you with sleepy eyes. he'll start acting cute with you and eventually you give in, and you both just stay there, cuddling the night away.

seonghwa

feels bad immediately and almsot starts to panic. 'i can't let my partner sleep in the closet. what kind of boyfriend am i??' he'll leave you for a bit to calm down after the argument, which gives him time to grab a load of snacks that you like and some more fluffy blankets. then he will knock on the closet door and enter, cooing at the sight of your curled up body covered in a single blanket. he will settle next to you and give you your snacks before cuddling you from behind. "you're not too sad, are you baby?" i think it's safe to say he is forgiven.

yunho

oh yunho would be devastated honestly. but what hurts him most is the fact that you'd think for one second he would let you sleep alone in the closet. if anyone should be condemned to the closet, it should be him. so he immediately gets up and opens the closet door. "you're not sleeping in here, baby" he'll say softly with a small sigh. when he sees you turning your back to him in protest, his eyebrow will quirk up. "fine." and he will nestle down beside you, hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling, waiting for you to turn back round to him. if you were going to budge, he might as well join you.

yeosang

doesn't really know what to do at first but his first instinct is to join you. he doesn't though. he wants you to relax and calm down because the fight was getting pretty heated. hey, he need to calm down himself a bit. will probably make you a hot chocolate as a sort of peace offering? when he finally enters the closet with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and hot chocolates in both hands, you can't help but melt a bit. you knew he meant well at the end of the day and there's not a malicious bone in his body.

san

how dare you do this to him because 💔💔💔💔 his face will be the purest example of '🥺' like he would have the biggest pout on his lips as he watches you get out of bed and go into the closet with nothing but a thin, lifeless blanket. he will immediately grab the thicker duvet and another fluffy blanket, cocooning himself in them to make him look so fluffy and cuddly you won't be able to resist him. then he shuffling his way to the closet and envelope you in a mountain of fluff. it's hard not to forgive him after this :<

mingi

he's so :((((( probably gets tearful as he watches you walk into the closet by yourself. 'is this is what it has come to?' he thinks. 'i've messed up big time.' he wouldn't know quite what to do at first but joining you jn the closet seems like a plausible option. so he joins you, sitting with his back against the other side of the wall, his long legs extended and touching the side of yours, considering how small the space with. he'd ask if you're okay and if you want him to cuddle you ;-; because ehe just wants to comfort you and tell you he's sorry, making sure your comfortable and not too sad.

wooyoung

ngl he would probably be the one to go in the closet 🚶‍♀️this is wooyoung we're talking about. he doesn't take any shit, and can be dramatic as hell. so when you've been arguing for so long and he gets bored and emotionally drained, he will not say anything. he simply takes a pillow and a blanket, making his way to the closet where you supposed he would be sleeping. and you know how stubborn he is. he would totally stay there for the night if it meant putting up a protest. so after giving him some time to cool down, you emerge from the room into the closet and spoon him from behind while he pouts grumpily >:( he's so damn cute

jongho

he's kinda torn between two options because on the one hand, he feels guilty for you going to sleep in the closet. on the other hand, he doesn't want to give in to your behaviour. so he's sitting bed weighing up his options, trying to figure out what the right thing is to do. he feels that he's guilt and affection for you outweighs everything else. then, he'll sigh and get out of bed, open the closet door and extending a hand for you to take. "come on, let's talk it out" he'll gesture for you to come out of the closet and when you grab his hand to pull yourself up, it feels like a step in the right direction.

[heartsforhavik]

hi hi! i saw you mention that you love doing hcs & i LOVE them, so i thought i would send in a request

i wondering if you could do hcs of what it’s like to be mike munroe’s gf (or partner if you prefer to keep it neutral!) like how he is w them, his flaws, etc.

mike munroe x (gn! reader) relationship hcs

✰ warnings: gender neutral reader, poc friendly, all hcs are sfw

✰ there is nothing i love more than doing hcs, tysm for requesting some!! i had a ton of fun writing this, so if you would like a part two, i'll do it! (i literally saw this req and immediately got up to write it) also i mentioned some poc things in here cuz i'm latino, soooo if anyone wants me to write any character x poc! reader, i am SO down.

mike is a very secure, confident partner. he's perfectly fine with you having male friends or spending alone-time with a guy.

but when another guy is clearly flirting with you?

oh boy.

he would go up to you and casually sling an arm around your shoulder, subtly hinting to the other guy that you are taken. if the guy doesn't take the hint, mike would butt in the conversation and would keep referring to you as his "love" or "beloved" until the guy leaves.

he isn't afraid of confrontation or anything, he just doesn’t want to waste time on someone like that.

if mike were to meet your parents, he would be confident and casual. he'd obviously hold back on the pda and profanity, but overall he wouldn't be too stressed about it. mike is very confident that he could win the approval of your parents. because of how calm he is, he'd probably treat your parents like old friends.

but if you're a person of color, he'd try a little harder. mike would present himself a bit neater, would constantly mention his successes, intelligence, job, etc. he'd even put in the effort to follow your family's customs. like if you eat with your hands, he has no issue doing so. or if you have a larger family, especially if they don't speak english, he would probably try to learn the language and get along with them all. he really wants to gain their approval.

these hcs make him sound like a saint... but the number one issue in your relationship with mike is that he tends to be a bit ignorant when it comes to your feelings.

for example, if you were at a party and you told mike you were uncomfortable and wanted to leave, he would be like: "what? why? this party's great! just go and talk to people, it isn't that hard."

he's nice about it, he just doesn't understand. he may even tease you about it.

"what? are you scared of social interaction? oh no, a conversation! the scariest of all weapons!"

but he shuts up immediately when he actually sees how uncomfortable you are, then he'd help you out. he's a nice boyfriend, just not the most understanding sometimes.

when you are genuinely in distress (emotionally), he would drop everything to help you and get rid of whatever is troubling you. if there's a chore you are too stressed to get done, he's helping you with it. if someone's messing with you, he'll have a... 'chat' with them. even though mike isn't too good with emotions, he hates seeing you stressed or sad. even if you're in denial or claim that you "don't need help" he isn't having it. he's stubborn, and he WILL help you.

mike's love language is probably either physical touch or quality time. if you're taller than him, he'd probably rest his arm around your waist. if you're shorter, he'd like to tease you sometimes by having his arm on top of your head, but mainly around your shoulders. he isn't afraid of showing off his partner to others, so he likes holding you at all times in some kind of way.

he also loves quality time. doesn't matter how. whether you're out at dinner somewhere, or just sitting in the same room scrolling through your phones in silence. he isn't picky, he just likes being around you.

mike strikes me as the type of boyfriend to always offer to drive you places, even if you're a better driver than him. you'd be in the passenger seat and you get to choose what music to listen to, while mike has one hand on the wheel, and his other hand resting on your thigh.

when you're spending time with mike, you laugh a lot and mess around like kids, but after 3-4 hours of hanging out, you're suddenly talking about the meaning of life and your biggest fears and covering them up with jokes. he's versatile!😻

overall, he's a nice, funny boyfriend. even if he isn't extremely good with emotions, he tries his best with you.

[emmitaaa4]

“A woman is not written in braille, you don’t have to touch her to know her.”

I'm tearing up. The comment below is how Azriel would speak of Elain when xyz happens and he lets his heart pour out (and I have the evidence of course).

She doesn’t like change and loves to love the world around her.

“Beautiful.” / “After all of this, the world needs more gardens.”

“In celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.”

She loves so hard she hurts herself at times and doesn't let me pick up the pieces, even though I always do it anyway.

So Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today--that love would trump even a mating bond.

(...)

Azriel carried Elain down, my sister silent and unresponsive in his arms. (...) Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm (...) and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.

"What if" - I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden. “That is what she needs?

“I didn’t hear you.” Azriel stepped forward. “But you heard something else."

“Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body.”

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose.

“A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” / It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. / Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding had freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.

“What about Elain?” / “I’m getting her back” “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” 

Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. (...) Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.”

 

He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” (...) I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

 “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. (...) Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“I’d feel bad for the mice,” Azriel muttered. (...) earning a grateful smile from Elain. (...) the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.

“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” (...) A fight with Nesta. don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready”

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

“We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with a soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation.

She’s stubborn like a mule but as delicate as a flower, always sad but never beaten.

“It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of how we meet the consequences.”

“Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face. I’d seen those same smiles before, on my own damn face. / Elain, it seemed, was as sleepless as me.

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever? You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to live a small, quiet life, while refusing to let me do anything greater.”

I love the way she understand what I'm trying to say without needing to hear me say it, when I can't seem to formulate anything at all.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly.

He left the rest unspoken. (…) Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

"Yes," Elain breathed, like she read the decision.

She's probably the best thing that's happened to me.

“It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. since you rub your temples so often.” (...) Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room.

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that (...) she understood why he stood near the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.

There she was. The faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

A headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the HoW. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. (...) Elain's mouth twitched into a smile (...) He offered a smile back.

His head went quiet.

There is lust. There is tension. But there is also so much more.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Dancing Under the Star With Vash

Vash the Stampede X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, Suggestive themes

Word Count: 1.2k

(A/N:) SOMEBODY GIVE THIS MAN A HUG! Man I know I have wrote a couple things for Nicholas but I can’t deny Vash is a looker to. But man I want to hug him and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him ever! Poor thing! So this is me trying to give this handsome weirdo the comfort he needs! Enjoy and until next time happy reading! ~Countess

When you had gone to bed laying under the stars and glow of worms, Vash had been right next to you. You slept easier with him by your side not only because of the protection but the warmth as well. You rolled over expecting to find his form but nothing but cooling rock met your wondering hands. Sitting up and blinking sleepily you called out quietly with no answer. You gave him a few moments to return but grew frustrated when no sign of him even appeared. You liked your sleep and you liked being warm while sleeping, so you couldn’t help but be a little grumpy by the blond’s disappearance.

He’d been ran out of another town while the people cursed his very name. Vash liked to act that he was used to this sort of treatment and it didn’t bother him but you knew, it hurt him every time, despite him trying to hide it. You stuck close by never willing to leave his side, especially after these moments of receiving animosity from others who he wanted to protect. Vash always means well even though the majority of the time it ends in disaster. 

Wrapping your thin blanket around your shoulders you set out to find him and drag him back to bed. It was cold tonight and you were exhausted. He had found a large mesa for you both to camp out on. It was fairly easy to climb up, but the trek was still exhausting for you. You knew Vash was exhausted himself, but when he was in a state like he is now he’ll keep pushing himself until he drops. It didn’t take long to find him, sitting on the edge with his feet dangling. You blew a stray strand of hair out of your face, ready to do whatever it takes to comfort him. Vash didn’t even look your way when you sat beside him. His bright blue eyes staring vacantly across the land that always seemed to be against him.

“It kinda sucks sleeping without my heater,” you teased after you had given him a few moments of silence in your presence.

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled looking towards you with a sad smile.

“I guess I can forgive you this one time,” you stated before shuffling closer. You draped half the blanket over him before nuzzling into his side. Vash stiffened at first as your body pressed against his before he melted with a sigh.

“Thanks,” he said. You nodded giving him another round of silence before you would press a little further. He needed to talk about it, but that didn’t mean he was not going to be stubborn and hide it with a fake smile. Worms danced around you both, lighting up the night with a bright green flicker. They did freak you out at first until you had grown used to the creatures and now you could say that they were even pretty as they bunched in the sky. You looked back up at Vash watching him hide the tears and forcing them back once more.

“Y’know you can talk to me,” you whispered. “I know you can’t be in a good place right now.”

“It’s fine,” he replied flatly.

You glared at him, “No it’s not fine. Vash, you don’t deserve to be treated that way. No matter what you’re just trying to help!”

“Honestly,” he looked away knowing that you would get mad at him, “I think I hurt more than I help.”

You huffed before elbowing him in the ribs, “If I didn’t love you so much I’d push you off this cliff. You’ve helped me a lot and I’m much better off for it.”

“Yeah,” he said bitterly, “I’ve gotten you shot at, almost killed, and now you get to sleep outside under the worm lit sky.”

“I actually think that wormy sky is really pretty now thanks to you.”

He turned and smiled but you gripped his cheeks causing his lips to pucker.

“Stop it. You don’t have to fake smile for me. It never reaches your eyes,” you released him, “and it breaks my heart.”

“Sorry,” he dropped the smile.

“And stop apologizing!”

“So...,” Vash stopped at your glare. “I get it.”

“I hate it when you’re sad,” you huffed. “It’s like I can never get you to cheer up. You just bounce back like a ball, it’s a little annoying.”

Vash chuckled quietly. “Wanna dance? It’ll make me feel better.”

You were floored by the request and it seemed like you couldn’t get up fast enough. You had become so close to the man they call Stampede and you couldn’t deny feelings were growing deep inside. Your womanly wants couldn’t deny his handsome features despite the goofy attitude. You took his offered hand the warmth of his skin seeping into yours while the cool of the metal tingling against your waist. He hummed a nameless tune while pressing you closer into his chest. You reached up stroking the hair from his eyes and he pressed in further enjoying the gentle touch.

“You have such a handsome face,” you purred.

“Careful you don’t want to stroke my ego too much,” he warned teasingly.

“Please,” you blew a raspberry. “You’re the only man on this forsaken sand pit that needs to get a little bit of an ego. Cause honey you ain’t got one.”

“Hey,” he laughed holding onto you tighter. You squeezed back, just holding him while the sky came alive with the buzz of worm wings. You both didn’t need music, as just swaying to the natural rhythm of the land was enough. Vash had a hint of the smell on him mixed in with his natural musk. You didn’t know how you made it so far without him but when you looked up from his hold to see that genuine smile finally pulling at his lips you felt overjoyed.

“Finally got you to smile for real.” You brushed his cheek once again. Vash leaned down getting closer to you. You searched his face quietly seeking answers to his deepest secrets within the depths. But they were going to be hard to unbury and it would take time, and you were willing to give all the time you needed to discover what makes Vash, Vash. 

Vash leaned closer and you knew exactly what he wanted so you opened yourself to him and he took his chance. His lips started gentle before picking up pace. You moaned into his mouth pulling him closer as the green light painted you both in the night. He pulled away panting gently as you kept a hold on him. You kissed the side of his mouth before pulling away but still keeping a grip on his metal hand.

“Let’s get some sleep you handsome typhoon,” you yawned.

“Your wish is my command,” he bowed comically.

“Good! My wish is to be warm,” you started walking and he followed. “Come on heater the night is a wasting and I am not one to pass up good sleep.”

Vash chuckled again helping to ease you down onto the ground. He followed suit nestling beside you with an arm wrapped around your waist. Your scent comforted him and the feel of you against him brought good memories.

“Goodnight Vash,” you mumbled already falling asleep.

“Goodnight,” he replied waiting a little longer after you succumbed to fall asleep. He wondered what he did to deserve you until he too fell asleep. Maybe time would answer that question for him, but until then he wouldn’t question it much as he was thankful for you.