#alone with the shell of your loved one in the void

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Okay I admit I don’t think I would have read this unless I already knew and loved your writing for Sauron but I did and. Um. Holy shit👀

Usually when he drew close, you could feel a warmth deep in your soul, like embers stoked in a neglected fire, made to dance and blaze again with renewed vigour whenever he returned to you.

AAAAAAH I love this sentence it’s so beautiful and poetic and perfectly describes that feeling of connection.

It doesn't take long before his whines of pain become pleasurable, enjoying your touch and the cool water on his skin. His mind is less fraught now, more present, and before long he begins to panic. His sweet wife, his innocent wife, had seen him for what he truly is, a Lord of Beasts, monstrous and terrifying to behold, and here she was, running her gentle fingers over him as if he was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen.

I too would lovingly pet big doggie Sauron and cherish him with all my heart🥺

I have many ideas, precious one, all you need to do is lie there and relax for me...

He rolls you over, encircling you wholly with his powerful frame. He is so massive that he dwarfs you twice, thrice over. You look down and your eyes widen, blood rushing to your cheeks; how is that going to fit?

It was at this moment that I put down my phone, questioned my sanity for finding this hot af, and dove head first into the Sauron monster-fucking I didn’t know I needed.

Terror grips you, hand in hand with arousal, and the fresh wetness between your legs spurs him on, groaning at the scent of you, all he can think of as you writhe beneath him. You try to get a better look at the flesh that is about to ravage you, but it is hidden in his fur. Perhaps that is for the best, you muse, far-off in your thoughts now, waiting for him to ruin you.

*barely breathing* His flesh is... in his fur. It’s in his fur. He’s a wolf. Why am I... why is this hot...? Fuck...? I need him...? Now...? Help...??

He licks the tears from your face gently, still engulfed in your wet heat, unwilling to be parted just yet. He rears up to get a look at how well you take him, to see how you stretch and mould for him.

That is all he wants after all, for you to be moulded by him, for him.

I am baby. I’m all fucking yours. Fuck. I have no words.

"Forced? What do you mean, forced?" Even in your shell-shocked anger, the notion of your husband forced to do anything hurts you deeply.

"I hardly serve Him willingly, my love, no one does. His will is..." he searches for the right word, the word that will convince you, "insurmountable."

My poor little tortured husband LEAVE HIM ALONE😭😭😭 damn it gets me every time.

"One does not simply leave Melkor's service." His tongue picks over the words carefully, watching for your reaction.

Hehe a little meme reference to lighten the mood. Nice touch.

Yeah, so um... this is beautifully written and scalding hot and it broke me and I loved it. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go touch some grass and scream into the void for the next 3 to 5 business days😳

The Number of the Beast (Sauron/F!Reader)

After his frankly embarrassing defeat at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, Sauron seeks you out;

You discover his werewolf form and press him for the whole truth and nothing but

Sequel to Wicked Game // AO3 Link

Songs to listen to: Animals by Maroon 5, Closer by Nine Inch Nails (obviously Sauron's jam), Teeth by Lady Gaga

Warnings: 18+! Werewolf!Sauron, smut (smh we cannot keep it clean for 5 minutes!!) werewolf sex (I'm sorry!! It's not a lot!! Idk!!!), P in V sex, oral sex (female receiving), dubcon (he is not in control of himself and even though you are up for it, you're still terrified of him and his uhhh size), size kink/size difference, hurt/comfort, manipulation (it's Sauron, he sucks guys idk), angst towards the end

A/N: y'know what, I warned you all this was going to happen. Sauron is a werewolf, and things get interesting weird. Idk I don't feel like it's overwhelmingly filthy, maybe y'all won't mind 😂🙈 there is actual plot to this one, and it will be fairly pertinent to the rest of the story, but you can skip the smut if it's not your cup of tea, I get it!! (Skip the section marked by ***)

Word Count: 4.9k!

Writing playlist here if so inclined 😅

Translation note: Amarië means 'goodness', Uthaessel means "tempting girl' as far as I can tell!

A nameless terror has been stalking your kin in these woods for years, and you are eager for your husband's embrace as you delve further into the woods, heart racing at every tiny rustle in the trees. He would never let anything happen to you, but he was not here, at least not as far as you could tell.

Usually when he drew close, you could feel a warmth deep in your soul, like embers stoked in a neglected fire, made to dance and blaze again with renewed vigour whenever he returned to you. But for the moment all you feel is an icy cold fear in the pit of your stomach; you should not be out here alone.

You think to turn back, to run back to the safety of your fledgling city, but you press on. He promised he would be here, and you cannot disappoint him, not after the long months he has spent in the north craving your touch.

The forest is so quiet as you make your way to the glade that has become so sacred to you and your husband. You keep as silent as you can, footsteps making no rustle in the leaves underfoot; the air is too still, the silence deafening where there should be sounds of birds and insects conducting their nightly business.

You are not far from your meeting place now as even the wind falls still. You breathe a sigh of relief as you catch sight of the rushing water that will lead you to safety. He will be there to assuage all your silly fears, the thought giving you the strength to keep moving.

A sharp howl, long and guttural, pierces the air, and you freeze. It sounded far off, or maybe closer than you think; your head is in a spin as you try to judge what could have possibly made such an unearthly sound. It didn't sound like any wolf you've ever heard; it had an almost sorrowful lilt that drew you to it. Shaking it off, you creep into the glade, expecting to see him there.

Disappointment washes through you; you are alone, and now you hear another howl, closer than before.

He will understand, you think, let's go home.

You start to take the winding path back to the thick treeline, but hear cracking branches, heavy footfall, ragged breath, from the dark undergrowth.

You back up, starting to shake and sweat. You are not made for this, never have you had to protect yourself from such a beast. You look around for anything with which to defend yourself, landing on a large broken branch that looks like it might be lethal in the right hands. Shame then, that your hands have never seen combat.

Dragging your makeshift weapon, you look for somewhere to hide, terrified that the beast might have already caught your scent.

~

He doesn't know why he's here, why he would put you through the horror of seeing him in his bestial glory; all he knows is that defeat has pushed him into your radiant embrace, to soothe the heavy losses he had suffered and prepare the fortitude of his mind to face his master's wrath.

His defeat at the hands of some Elf-Maia and her dog had shamed him; he could not go back to Angband now, not now Tol-in-Gaurhoth was lost, and all he craved was your touch, for you to wash away all his ills.

He pads through the forest, trailing a silent darkness in his wake, all birds and beasts fleeing before him. His black blood drips and pools in the undergrowth, scorching the earth.

His mind is clouded with pain and shame, something with which he is not familiar, and would not suffer again given the option, how it turns his stomach, and makes him crave nothing but your sweet embrace. Where are you? He can think of nothing else, having travelled so far in search of salvation.

The breeze betrays you, carrying the sweet scent of the berries you love to eat, the oils you use on your skin, and he groans, a deep visceral sound that would usually shake the foundations of Middle Earth, if only he were not so deeply tired.

He follows your scent, instinctively, unthinking as to how you might receive him. As he gets closer, his soul sings for you, his heart swells, and he can think of nothing else.

Exhausted, he reaches out to you, tendrils of his mind softly caressing yours. He hears your soft sigh and follows the sweet sound to your doom.

~

The forest around you turns deathly silent, the very air robbed of its oxygen in a split second. You hear only the crack of fallen branches and the heavy movement of something massive in the dark.

You should be terrified, why do you not run?

Quaking in your hiding spot, you find yourself rooted to the spot, crouching and unable to move, doomed to listen to the beast in the dark.

You feel it then; a darkness in your mind, touching your thoughts, and the terror grows. The scent of sweat dripping down your back only helps him find you sooner, and as you hear him approach, the tremor in your fingers grows.

If you can only stay quiet, perhaps it will ignore you, perhaps you will be blessed tonight. You screw your eyes shut and pray.

Alas, a hot huff of breath sweeps the side of your face, and you scream, you can't help but keep screaming, even after you've picked up your weapon and blindly struck the great beast, before you roll out from under it and run as fast as your legs can carry you.

He shakes his head, blind rage now overtaking him, even as he sees you, scents you, wants nothing more than to cover and embrace you.

The pair of you race through the forest; you know it as well as any of your people, all the shortcuts and secret places. But your quick light tread is vastly outmatched by his sheer ferocity, and in your panic, you take a wrong turn, meeting a sharp cliff face where you were sure there was a waterfall you might have lost the beast in. You curse your folly and spin around, awaiting your fate.

Two great paws come to rest either side of you, as its wolven face bears its teeth and snarls, black blood dripping from the gash you inflicted on its temple.

You can do nothing but shut your eyes, shaking in terror as the beast takes you in, sniffing at you and panting. Any moment now, this will all be over...

Amarië... love... need you...

The unspoken voice you hear is somehow familiar, deeper and more guttural, and yet...

You reach out your hand, offering your soothing touch freely. Baleful golden eyes watch you carefully as he closes the gap and leans in to your trembling touch. You should run.

"Mairon..." The beast's eyes soften as you look up at him, and you realise a terrible sorcery is at play here.

You feel his mind caress yours and you relax, easing into the unfamiliar feeling of fur beneath your fingers. You trace the sinewy muscle of his neck a while, assuring him in hushed tones that you've got him, that everything will be alright, that you're here, his horrors are over.

"Oh, my love..." You run your fingers over him, suddenly mindful of the wound you'd inflicted yourself only moments ago.

In your inspection, you find many more, deep gouges and bitemarks that have festered, and your heart aches for him. How could this have happened? Who did this to him?

"Come, love, I have you now," you grasp his fur on his neck and lead him back to the river, careful not to touch the open sores in his sides yet.

He staggers into the rushing current, clear water turning black as he submerges, washing off his defeat and returning little by little to you.

You wade in after him, ripping a strip off your hem; how times had changed since last you did this for him, having now ruined two dresses to tend his wounds.

You soak the fabric and begin to dab away the grime and viscera, so that you can start to heal him with every spell your people know for such injuries.

It doesn't take long before his whines of pain become pleasurable, enjoying your touch and the cool water on his skin. His mind is less fraught now, more present, and before long he begins to panic. His sweet wife, his innocent wife, had seen him for what he truly is, a Lord of Beasts, monstrous and terrifying to behold, and here she was, running her gentle fingers over him as if he was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen.

You notice his panic and immediately go to soothe him, rubbing circles over his muzzle, trying not to overthink just how strange the situation had become.

"It's okay, love, I'm here, you're okay," you whisper softly, "who did this to you, love?"

Trying to soothe him was proving difficult as anger begins to bubble in the pit of your stomach; who was responsible for this sorcery? You would rip them limb from limb, your gentle nature be damned.

That blasted Elf-Maia hybrid and her brute of a dog, he thinks bitterly, reliving his utter defeat once more.

"My darling, you can tell me, who did this to you? Transformed you this way?" Surely it was a curse that could be broken, that you could face together.

Oh. Oh, no. His blood runs cold. Yes, of course, that's what you mean; how were you to know he could transform himself at will, that this was a form he liked to take in battle. Used to like. It might be a while before he chose a wolfish form again, given everything that had happened with Lúthien.

He goes to stand, to leave the river and avoid your questioning, but his legs give out from under him. Your heart wrenches at the sight of your beloved suffering so, how it pained you.

"I have you, don't move yet," you say softly with an encouraging smile. "I've got you."

More murmuring in Quenya, pressing your hands to his wounds, feeling your energy flow into him, all of your efforts were enough to finally restore him, and you both emerge from the river into the cool night air, sodden and freezing.

He collapses on the river bank, with you quick to follow; your healing had taken a lot out of you. Shivering, you lean into him for his furnace-like warmth, blessedly finding him already nearly dry.

You're so tired, your questions can wait until after you've rested, and so you do.

~

It is still hours before dawn when you wake to the unfamiliar sensation of warm silky fur on your cheek, lining your body, encompassing you in a blissful heat.

Fear jolts any sleepiness from your mind, and you try to stand. But his great limbs keep you from moving, and he rumbles his disapproval deep in his chest.

Suddenly you remember.

"Mairon?" You whisper, "darling, how do you feel?"

I was fine. His words are still unspoken, heard directly in your mind.

"Was? Can I help, love?" You worry that your work is not done, that perhaps there are ills that you have not yet healed.

Go back to sleep, your presence is soothing, my sweet.

"I can soothe you while awake!" Your tone is indignant and his chest quakes with what sounds like laughter, if you're not mistaken.

I didn't say you could not, but now you're awake, there are other urges I'd rather have you satisfy, Uthaessel.

Other urges... you blush as you realise what he means. He only calls you by that epithet when he craves you so particularly, that nothing else might sate him but hours between your thighs. 'Temptation', indeed.

"Well, you've recovered quickly." You laugh, brushing his side and finding his gaping wounds already healed over.

"And while you're like this, my darling, I'm not quite sure how that would work." You do have an idea, but it might be... uncomfortable.

He groans, deep in his chest, making your whole body vibrate with it; maybe a little discomfort wouldn't be so bad?

I have many ideas, precious one, all you need to do is lie there and relax for me...

He rolls you over, encircling you wholly with his powerful frame. He is so massive that he dwarfs you twice, thrice over. You look down and your eyes widen, blood rushing to your cheeks; how is that going to fit?

In an effort to slow him down, you ask him again, "how did this happen, love? You couldn't tell me before, would you tell me now?"

He sighs, a massive huff of breath that seems to scold you for disrupting his conquest of you.

It is no curse, that much you do not have to fear.

"If it is no curse, then what happened? Love, this is hardly natural, unless I am missing something important?" You laugh a little, nervously, wishing for him to assuage your anxiety.

He simply stares down at you with those bottomless golden eyes, concocting some explanation that will appease you.

How would you react, he wonders, if he told you he told you he is in fact Lord of Beasts and Werewolves, able to take on any form he wishes? Or would you prefer a simple lie, or the wiping of it from your mind altogether?

You are his wife, you are bound together in a way no force can sunder, you could not reject him if you tried. But he fears your disgust, would do anything to avoid it.

But the truth would set him free. No more lies, no more deception, he could truly be himself with you. The freedom that would afford, the burdens he would no longer have to carry alone.

So for once, he settles on the truth, mostly.

This is simply one of the forms I can take. You know I am no Elf, I can do things your kind could only dream of.

He nuzzles your neck, licking a long stripe up the sensitive flesh between your ear and your collarbone.

"I know that," you whimper, his rough tongue laving your throat, making your toes curl into the dirt. "But this is new, this is-" a whine escapes your lips as he nips at your neck- "unnatural."

You feel his song in the depths of your soul, how sweetly he pines for you. Your soul cannot help but answer, harmonising with his every touch, until you are squirming under his iron embrace, pupils blown, arousal overtaking you quicker than it ever has before.

*******

His massive limbs cage you in, and panic begins to set in again; surely your husband would never hurt you, but in this state you weren't sure he had the control to keep his nature at bay.

"I need to know-" You brace against him, trying with all your might to release yourself from his roaming tongue, rasping over your skin; sharp teeth snared in your dress pull in one fluid motion and you're left bare under his gaze.

Need to know what, my pet? His tone is adoring as ever, but impatient; he knows what plagues your thoughts and he still isn't sure he wants you to know.

"Need to know... need to know who you are." You force out the words as he seeks out where to lick, where to bite, trying to swallow your pleas; he cocks his head, as if your question is a mystery.

You know who I am, love. His length begins to prod at you insistently, and you clench your thighs together, nervous at the thought of him claiming you like this, stalling for time even as the melody of his fëa seduces you.

"No... no, I don't think I do," You pant, fingers clutching at his neck, drawing him in and pulling him away, your body betraying your mind as you become more and more unsure of what you want from him.

"How? How can you change your face like that? Your entire being? I don't understand..." You trail off with a whine as he begins to worship your body with his tongue, covering your breasts with a swipe, dragging slowly lower until he finds your mound, gods you smell divine.

The bestial part of his mind begins to take over, ignoring your questioning, wrapped in the scent of you, the soft flesh under his tongue that he could so easily ruin with a drag of his teeth if he desired, your panting lips forming words that fall on deaf ears; the only sounds he now listens for are your moans and pleas.

"Mairon... I need to know..." You realise far too late that this is no longer your husband, and that the beast before you is going to rut you into the earth without pity.

Terror grips you, hand in hand with arousal, and the fresh wetness between your legs spurs him on, groaning at the scent of you, all he can think of as you writhe beneath him. You try to get a better look at the flesh that is about to ravage you, but it is hidden in his fur. Perhaps that is for the best, you muse, far-off in your thoughts now, waiting for him to ruin you.

He sniffs at the dampness between your thighs, a groan rumbling through him as he bears his sharp canines, dangerous and gleaming even in the dark of the night; perhaps especially so. Even with the forest at your fingertips, all you can smell is him, musk and smoke and iron, he smells like himself but stronger, every inch of him reeking of the man you love but more pungent, inescapable; a heady mix that does nothing to dispel the coil in your abdomen that he will delight to spring.

"My love, darling, please, Mairon..." you try every which way to get his attention, to bring him back to you.

You shiver as he laps at you, tasting you every which way, your nipples peaking as he runs his tongue over them before letting them chill in the night's cool breeze. He lowers himself slightly to wrap himself around you more completely, your soft skin now pressed against his thick fur, the perfect companion to stave off the chill.

You feel him pant against your neck, his thick length weeping against your legs, firmly pressed shut as you rock slightly to relieve the terrible pressure he has built in your clit.

You bury your face in the green foliage under your head, still pressing your thighs together as if he will yet be denied. He noses at your jaw, demanding your attention; pressing his long teeth against your throat, demanding your obedience.

The inhuman face gazing down on you does nothing to dispel the visceral fear that grips you. This is your husband, the man you love, whose soul you share; but none of this seems to matter now, as empty golden eyes stare you down, awaiting the inevitable.

Tears of fear begin to fall unbidden as your heart hammers in your chest, as you realise that despite every instinct in you telling you to run, you still want him, and he knows it.

The second you loosen your thigh muscles, he is there with his tongue, licking and sucking and making your toes curl. He is too rough, too fast, and before long a tiny nip at your clit sends stars behind your eyes, warmth exploding and cascading through you.

With you distracted at your peak, he takes his opportunity.

Hot breath on your face, soft fur under your fingers, giving you purchase, grounding you, a white hot pain at your mound-

Your scream echoes through the forest as he buries himself within you, no gentleness, just brutal force.

He allows you a moment to accommodate him, but it would take many more to truly adjust to his monstrous size. He pulls back, your tiny sigh of relief cut short as he thrusts back in, deeper, longer, stroking every inch of you.

You feel a tendril of his mind caress yours, and you reach for it, cling to it, make his power your own as you channel every intelligible thought into not being spilt apart.

As his power and your healing magic do their work, the blazing pain lessens, relieved to a dull ache, that only invites him to do his worst.

He would tear you apart, put you back together, over and over if he could. As he reaches the height of his pleasure, he is merciless, rutting you like a mindless animal, emptying and filling you quicker than you can draw breath, gasping around the sheer inhuman size of him.

And you enjoy it.

As the pain recedes, all you can think is of his cock filling you over and over, tongue rasping everywhere he can reach, guttural groans punctuating every thrust, as you drag your nails down his forearms, desperate to ground yourself in any sensation not emanating from your heated core.

With an unearthly growl, his thick hot seed paints your insides, filling you to bursting, and the coil in your abdomen does indeed spring again; as he comes down from his own high, his mind returns to him piece by piece, and he realises what he has put you through. You quake around him, whimpering and clinging to him, nails deep in his heavily muscled back.

He licks the tears from your face gently, still engulfed in your wet heat, unwilling to be parted just yet. He rears up to get a look at how well you take him, to see how you stretch and mould for him.

That is all he wants after all, for you to be moulded by him, for him.

He nuzzles your neck as you lie exhausted underneath him.

Love... precious girl... my Uthaessel... did so well for me...

You give him a sleepy smile, idly running your fingers through the fur on his chest, suddenly overcome with the urge to sleep for a week.

When he can, he slips out of you, curling you into his side, as his seed drips between your thighs. He'll clean you up later, he thinks, but perhaps for now he'll just watch you sleep.

*******

When you wake, he has already transformed himself, smooth skin and golden hair that you love so much, but your sticky thighs remind you uncomfortably of what happened last night.

You crane your neck to look at him, to assure yourself it is really him. He gives you that same gentle adoring smile he always does; your heart melts as you can't help but return it, but your questions still plague you. He had never told you he could take the guise of a beast, and you worry that something wicked lies under that glorious visage.

"Mairon..." You try to keep your tone neutral, but he knows your heart too well.

"I know, love," he gathers you to him, resting his chin on your head. "Can we not? At least for now."

You do wonder whether to indulge him, but the suspicions gnawing at your gut will not cease.

"I want to know... I need to know what happened."

You expect him to fight you on it tooth and nail, but he vowed to himself last night, the truth would out. Mostly.

And so he tells you. His humiliation at the hands of Lúthien and Huan, his command over beasts and vampires, even where he really comes from. Your eyes widen and your breath shallows with each detail, reaching a crescendo as he tells you of Morgoth, his voice low as if his master could hear him even here.

"A servant of Morgoth?" You can't catch your breath, you've long stood up, pacing and wringing your hands more urgently the longer you let him speak.

"Why are you telling me this?" You stop still and ask sharply, making him wince at the tone you've never used on him before.

"You asked, my love," he looks confused, as if the truth weren't more horrifying than your husband simply liking to spend time in wolf's clothing.

"But why are you telling me now? You could have continued your vile deception? Kept me in the dark?" Your stomach drops as you wonder aloud his intentions.

"You've had everything you wanted from me, that must be it. And now you tell me you are a servant of the Enemy-" your thoughts are interrupted as he now stands and moves to take your hands in his.

A churning fear overtakes your anger as you realise he is the one your people only speak of in hushed whispers, his very name accursed to the tongue: Sauron.

"You... you are the terror my people fear in these woods. You have plagued them, stolen them, and then you come to me and ply me with your sweetness and lies?"

"You misjudge me, my love. I will never stop wanting you," he implores, as he takes your face in his hand, willing you to be silent and listen.

"My appetite for you will never be sated, such is my devotion. I could never cast you aside, could never let you leave me." He sounds so damn sincere, your heart pleads with you to listen while your head tells you to run.

"You wanted the truth, so I gave it to you. If I did not think you could handle it, I would not have troubled you with such evils." His eyes search yours for any sign you understand his plight. "I told you my name, I never lied to you. But I could not tell you about Melkor in the beginning, how could I, when you would have scorned me?"

"You don't know that," you mutter, still shell-shocked, world in pieces, but offended by the accusation all the same.

"If this is your reaction, then I am sure you would."

"Are you blaming me? Lies by omission are still lies!" Your indignation stirs you a little, your mind screaming at you to fight back.

He does you the courtesy to look mollified slightly, before grasping your hands once more, tracing circles in your palm with his thumb.

"Amarië, my sweet, even your name is too good for me, how could I have won you if you had known the company I am forced to keep?"

It's that imploring look, the gentle tone, and-

"Forced? What do you mean, forced?" Even in your shell-shocked anger, the notion of your husband forced to do anything hurts you deeply.

"I hardly serve Him willingly, my love, no one does. His will is..." he searches for the right word, the word that will convince you, "insurmountable."

You take a deep breath through your nose, finding nothing in your mind but the sweet scent of smoke and musk and iron, the scent of your husband that softens your heart once more.

Your deep exhale releases much of the tension within you; of course, he is but an unwilling participant in Morgoth's designs, of course.

"This is your one chance, Mairon, you have one chance to tell me everything, no lies, no deceit." You raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to argue, but he simply sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I have done, love, you know everything."

"No. Details, and lots of them, now."

It takes from sunrise to sunset, but he tells you everything. How Morgoth seduced him to his will; how He alone has the power to change Middle Earth in the way your lover has planned; how Sauron realised far too late that His destruction was not the balance he craved.

"And you cannot leave Him?" Your voice is hoarse after so much time spent listening, but you have to ask.

Sauron grimaces, an expression that twists his pretty face, makes it almost unrecognisable.

"One does not simply leave Melkor's service." His tongue picks over the words carefully, watching for your reaction.

"Morgoth." You interject, "his name is Morgoth." After all the heartbreak and destruction He has wrought on your kind, you cannot stand to hear his divine name spoken once more.

"Forgive me, love, it is... difficult to break the habit when He himself would flay me for even thinking the name your people have given him." He cannot help but smirk a moment when your face drops, and you reach for him as if to comfort him.

He takes you in his golden embrace, holding you tightly as if you'd leave him the moment you were free.

"I was so afeared that you would reject my affections, I could not possibly tell you, and as time passed, I could not bear to ruin what we share." He nuzzles your neck affectionately, as if he has already won you over.

You are so torn, your heart and head fighting a losing battle. If he truly is an unwilling accomplice, then he needs you now more than ever to face the darkness. But the darkness was a terror you never planned on witnessing in all its treachery.

It is a long time before you can forgive his lies, but the truth will indeed set you both free.

[brigriv]

doomed timelines. 💔

[kakiastro]

Astrology Observations and notes of all things Cancer related

This how cancers act when they’re home alone😅, just vibes and music😅

In honor of Cancer season, If you have Cancer, 4h, dominate Moon aspects placements, this post is for you !

-besides Crabs, other animals such as Elephants, Wolves and Bears are also ruled by the moon

-cancers are known as the nurturing sign and they most definitely can be, however, they struggle with being feeling vulnerable. Due to their sweet aura, they attract all kinds of people but it takes a lot for them to come out their shell.

-Cancer energy can also be very cold when they get angry. I know they are known as being “cry babies” but from what I’ve researched and seen, they can turn cold like sub zero, they turn into their sister sign capricorns(dark side of cap) 😭🤚🏽 they have the memory of an elephant, they’ll remember what you did to them forever in this lifetime and the next 50😭

- people who have Mars Cancer do NOT play when it comes to protecting their family members. Their anger is down right terrifying because how sweet and naive they appear. Oh no, they turn full on gangsta if you hurt anyone they love. 🤺

- I noticed you all are named after someone in your family or you get told that you act like a certain family member. You may be named after a women in your family or get told you act like her in someway

-motherhood may be a big theme in your life. This can include your own mother, friends who are mothers, working with mothers. Even if you don’t want or have kids, motherhood is still apart of your life somehow. Maybe being a mother to your own mother, the mom friend, the cool auntie that gives off mom vibes, mom to your siblings.

-Moon/Neptune aspects may struggle with fog memory. They can remember the big things in their life but have trouble with the small events. Taking pictures or journaling can help with this. I also notice they have these random moments where they remember the most random things at random times😅

-Moon/Sun aspects have such a powerful energy about them. You really light the room

-Cancer rising either have a face shaped like 🌝 or like🌛

- speaking of Cancer risings, them dimples! They deep like the moon craters

- acne problems, it’s even worse during adolescence but it does get better as you get older but you may occasionally break out. I also notice you guys have oily skin.

- Venus Cancer loves them a home cooked meal. They’re the type to go home to their mom or grandma for dinner. They may have a family recipe that’s passed down to them or they create one and pass it down to there kids

-they have a hard time with letting material things go especially if it’s sentimental to them. To the outside world it’s junk but to them it’s treasure. I get it tall I do lol

- Moon 11h attract a lot women as friend groups. Strangers may feel too comfortable with telling their personal business unprovoked

- leader of the family, it doesn’t matter what your role is, you are the one that holds the family together, people may be heavily dependent on you especially emotionally. You may be the first person in your family to accomplish something big.

-Cancer Suns may be the firstborn or firstborn daughter or son(not always). They are born during a time when their parents were especially father was ready to settle down and start a family. They could be born during a time where the family was going through some sort of emotional event and you were the fresh start. Will either feel more emotionally connected or feel disconnected due to trying to live up to his efforts and family ideals.

-Cancer moon feel a deep connection to their mothers theses are the type of children that will live with their mom into adulthood. Even if they move out, they calling they momma lol. Maybe very dependent emotionally on mom. If they don’t have a good relationship with mom, they will get will partners who can feel that void. It’s a lot harder for men with this placement.

-Moon/Jupiter comes from families with such strong belief systems and ideals. They carry these ideals into adulthood, it may be hard to break away from them. They may have a belief that they family viewpoint is everyone’s. They have to leave there nest and see the world for themselves and realize their family viewpoint may be short sighted. This can be triggering because you wonder what else were you not accurately taught.

-if you have 28°, that’s matriarch energy

-have you noticed Cancer starts in June which is the 6th month. 6 in astrology is ruled by Virgo. Summer months are chaotic because your starting a new routine for the season lol

-it’s also interesting that Cancer is the start of Summer season. All the kids is out of school and at home. This is one of the rare times of the year where families are vacationing and spending time together. Visiting other cities and countries. Cancer literally rules home countries and cities y’all lol

I’ll stop here but happy Cancer season and birthday Cancers

[earthtooz]

x : MORE :*+ﾟ

in which: rin's not happy with your decision to sleep on the couch.

warnings: cliché lol, 1.1k, hurt/comfort, gn!reader, unedited + ooc!rin towards the end, a lot of metaphors but hey one cliché leads to another.

a/n: this is practice for me to a) get back into writing and b) remind u guys that i am still writing luls, enjoy!! reblogs r vv appreciated, but this quality is actually so ass.

“are you sure you want to sleep out here tonight?” rin’s voice asks from the hallway entrance, slight concern laced in his tone as he watches your backside set up on the couch, fidgeting with the pillows and blankets.

“yeah, i’m positive,” you answer, not turning around to look at him; something rin frowns at. 

“oh…” he mutters, leaning awkwardly on the wall as he scours his brain to try and find something to say. “really?”

“yes, really.”

“won’t you be uncomfortable?”

“i’ll be fine. it’s not that bad here.”

“if you’re sure.”

silence cuts the conversation with a cold knife, leaving the two of you in the suffocating quiet, one that stops rin from instigating further conversation despite how badly he wanted to continue. because if he shuts up then that means he has to leave, but he doesn’t want to leave you alone. he wants you to come to bed so the two of you can sleep peacefully together and not (what feels like) eons apart where he can’t hold you.

“are you going to go to bed? it’s getting late,” you ask, no hint of hostility at all in your tone as you shuffle under the covers, disappearing from rin’s view completely. 

he bites the inside of his cheek, disheartened at your eagerness to see him go. “oh, right. goodnight.”

he lingers for a second longer, waiting for a ‘goodnight’ back, or even better, an ‘i love you’, but neither comes and rin feels his chest contract. 

rin didn’t mean for the argument to escalate, he didn’t mean to sharpen his words and pierce you with them, he didn’t mean to hurt you to the point that you didn’t want to sleep beside him.

as he slowly makes his way to your shared bedroom, your absence on your side of the bed hits him even harder. it’s cold. it’s empty. it’s void. rin loathes it.

you’re not faring much better, replaying the argument in your head over and over again as the small, coffee table lamp illuminates the room with a warm yellow. each replay of the memory just twists the knife further and causes a new batch of tears to wet your eyes. 

you hate this. you hate feeling weary around rin, you hate feeling like you need to walk on egg shells around him from now on, you hate feeling like he doesn’t value you the same way you do with him, you hate these new revelations coming to your brain as you reflect on your relationship-

“you’re still awake?” a voice comes from the hallway.

leaning up onto your elbows, you blink in shock at the new figure making itself known. thanks to the lamp, you can see rin from where he stands, and you can see the confusion in his eyes.

“uh… yeah,” you say.

“why are you still up?”

“i was thinking. why are you still up?”

“i…” rin hesitates for a second, “i wanted to check up on you.”

your heart flutters at his shy confession. “i’m fine, thank you.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

“why, are you not fine?”

no, he’s not. he wants you to come back to bed, he wants you to reassure him that the two of you will still be okay, he wants you.

“no,” lies rin. “i’m okay.”

the soccer player regrets his words instantly. 

“that’s good. i’m gonna sleep now and you should too, you have a big day tomorrow.”

but rin can’t sleep. not without you beside him because otherwise, the bed is too vacant and too chilly and reminds him of the life he used to live too much.

and he’s scared that he’ll have to go back to living like that if you’re not there beside him, petrified that you’ll leave in the middle of the night because you’ve realised that he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. 

instead of confessing that, the dark-haired merely sighs, the words lodging themselves in his throat. “okay. i’m off.”

you reach over to turn off the lamp, engulfing the room in darkness with a single click. “goodnight, rin.”

“i love you,” rin confesses, but it’s too quiet and too breathy for you to hear, so there’s no response. he hopes you know.

so, he retreats back into the barren wasteland that is your shared bedroom. he misses you. he reaches over to your side in hopes of being to feel some remnants of comfort.

30 minutes later, rin wakes again after weaving in and out of consciousness and he’s sick of it. it’s 1:10am and he only has five hours until he needs to get up. decisively, he throws the cover off of him and makes his way to the living room, intent on this trip being his last one. 

it’s dark in the living room and rin can’t find it in him to turn on a light and disturb your slumber, so after adjusting to the dark and mindlessly patting around, he eventually threads his arms underneath you. he lifts you up so effortlessly, driven by determination and love as he walks to familiar path back to your shared bedroom.

he settles you down gently and the last thing rin remembers before drifting off is the warming feeling of content as he pulls you into his arms. 

the following morning, you rouse to the sound of a blaring alarm; the one rin always uses because otherwise gentle alarms won’t coax him successfully. your lover shuffles beside you, shutting the clock off with a groan before wrapping an arm around you again, pulling you into his warmth.

wait.

you raise yourself up onto your elbows, dazed and confused. weren’t you meant to be on the couch?

“don’t go,” rin murmurs, snaking his arm up to wrap your shoulders instead, gently guiding you down to the mattress, “sleep.”

“how did i get here?” you ask and rin stiffens before pulling you in to his chest. “rin, i’m being serious.”

“you were always here.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“i’m not lying, so let’s sleep.”

you’re sick of his shit. “itoshi rin, i swear to-”

“i carried you back here, now shut up. i only have 10 minutes before i have to get up and get ready.” 

“i think i’ll go back to the couch, actually,” you say jokingly.

“not funny.”

“i think it’s plenty funny.”

he frowns, wrapping himself around you even tighter. you don’t hug him back, but you’re here and that’s all that matters to rin. you didn’t leave like he thought you would. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, “for last night. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“it’s okay, rin, we can talk about it later.” 

“we’re okay right?” 

“of course.”

“you… you won’t leave. right?”

“i would never. why would you think i would?” 

“just being stupid, i guess.”

“better you than me.”

he huffs, letting the conversation die to silence.

you speak up again, “i love you.” 

rin feels a weight lift off his shoulders. he can breathe again.

“i love you more.” 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[wrr000]

"like a shadow"

Summary: The ghoul you hired for protection liked you more than both of you would expect.

Warnings: english isn't my first language; really short; it's from my Cooper x oc fic, but idk if I should post chapters here; pure soft; inner thoughts; reader is similiar to Lucy

»»————-　♡　————-««

You finally made it to town. Walking thru the wasteland felt like an endless journey while burning sun was always watching every step of foolish humans, who dared to cross these lands. And it wasn't the only threat waiting for your mistep. You earned that stop to rest and gather strength. He deserved it as well.

This place was pretty civilian. By the standards of the wasteland, of course. People were trying to live a "normal" life and some constantly pretended like The Great War never happened. You didn't mind it as long as they didn't act suspicious towards you. Besides, he was here and that made you feel... safe. Kinda. Weird nonetheless.

He was the one who announced parting ways in town and you kindly agreed (like you had a choice).

"I'm goin' to check what chems they got here, think you can handle things on your own, Vaultie" - usual smirk appeared on his fucked up face.

That ghoul was driving you insane. Even after paying him for escort and protection he was still threatening you and bitching around that he actually doesn't care about you and if something big is going to happened - his life goes first, not you. But the sad truth was - you couldn't really blame him.

Ironically, someone like him turned out to be the kindest thing you met since reaching the surface. He was terriyfing, cruel and nothing alike anyone from the Vault. But as time passed, you saw something more in him, under that hard shell and feeling of fear passed. His action were still shocking to you, but wasteland has it's own rules and you started to understand that.

It wasn't a suprise that Cooper didn't want to walk around the town. You felt like he couldn't stand you. But it was fine, you kinda enjoyed exploring and discovering the town alone. Just like the good old times as a child in the Vault.

Little you knew that you had a shadow. Unaware of a pair of penetrating eyes watching your every graceful move. Your smile was the brightest on the whole planet and every small gesture was full of passion. Analizing you very carefuly. You didn't saw him, but he saw you perfectly.

It was hard for the ghoul to admit it to himself that he grew fond of you during your journey together. Very hard. Worst, poor bounty hunter realized that he had a soft spot for a stupid naive Vaultie. Thankfully, you didn't notice anything and he could suffer in silence.

You reminded him of a long gone humanity. Always kind and polite, naive as hell, delusional and annoying. You even never judged him for being a ghoul! Ohhh, how he hated you, but loved at the same time. You were like his human half, a long lost part. He knew you wouldn't last long out there, people like you never lasted long.

Cooper took this job for money of course. You offered a good amount of caps and it was equal with massive stock of chems. But now, he thougth to himself, it would be a shame if something happened to you, right? That's why he was doing an "extra" job. Always watching, even if he didn't had to, always protecting you, even if you didn't noticed it.

In a long long long time the ghoul felt like a human again. It was pissing him off, but he missed that feeling. Well, he missed his whole previous life actually, more than he would like, but you kinda started to filling that void inside his ghoulish heart. Slowly.

[athforskz]

Sticky Dates - Bang Chan

Masterlist

type: drabble, angst (?)

wc: ~800

not proof-read

warnings: crying, loneliness, yearning, olfactophilia

a/n: wow something that isn’t explicit. also absolutely convinced that this man would smell like heaven.

Enjoy lovelies!

The place you called home felt empty, quiet, voided. It had become a shell of itself ever since you were the only one stepping through the threshold at night. Some days you couldn’t even bear to come back to the small and cozy apartment because it meant you’d be sleeping another night alone. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle being on your own, it was more so about the constant reminders of him that these four walls held.

You loved the memories you created with Chan, the good, the bad, all of it. But maybe you loved them to a fault. Too much to the point where you can’t stay while he was away. Maybe that was another flaw of yours; depending on him so much. It couldn’t be helped though. That’s just the kind of love you two shared. Chan loved to be needed by you, and you loved to need him. Honestly, it was a dangerous game to play considering his job and now you were paying the price for it.

A heavy sigh left your chest as you entered the darkened apartment. This was the first time you’d been back in three days: opting to stay with your best friend to avoid coming back home. Home? No, your home was gone, he was out traveling the world for the next six months on another world tour. This place was simply a shelter while Chan was away. Nonetheless, you had to face the reality, he had already been gone for a month and you still hadn’t gotten yourself into a routine to make the quiet, well, less quiet.

You made your way into the bedroom and stared at the bed where he normally slept. The sight of the empty space made your heart clench and pull out your phone to stare at the lockscreen of you two. It was a photo of you both laughing together at the beach that was taken on a trip while visiting his family. He had you wrapped up in his arms and his nose was all crinkled with laugh lines, you could still hear his little squeaky laugh playing in your head. If only you could actually hear it again right now. Maybe you should call him?

Your thumb hovered over Chan’s contact debating on if it was a good idea or not. It felt like an hour passed before you finally decided against it, you didn’t want to bother him. He’s probably busy, besides he said he’d call when he had the time. Chan always called, in fact, you spoke with him this morning, but now that you were back in the bedroom you two shared the need to hear his voice became overwhelming.

Dammit, when did you get so clingy? You shook your head to steel your resolve. You’ve gotta get it together if you’re going to get through half a year with Chan being on tour. Just one step at a time, you thought to yourself while entering the attached bathroom. A shower should do you some good.

The water cascading down your body felt heavenly, you hadn’t even noticed how tense your muscles had gotten before the warmth and steam enveloped you. When you had turned to grab the body wash your eyes landed on the half empty Lush bottle on the shelf, it was one of Chan’s favorite scents. A pout formed on your lips when you opened the bottle and inhaled, it smelled just like him. It sent a rush of mixed feelings through you, the smell of him making you think he was so close, yet he was still so far. You lathered the soap all over your body savoring the smell of Chan flooding your senses. Maybe this would end up becoming your favorite scent too.

Eventually, the water ran cold after spending such a long time in the shower. You were trying to soak up every second possible in your makeshift Channie scented sauna. You continued with the theme of ‘Chan-ifying��� yourself by spritzing a bit of his cologne on your neck and even putting on one of his black t-shirts to sleep in. Anything to make the illusion of him last a little bit longer.

Your mood had been content until you had slipped into his side of the bed, then the weight of how much you missed Chan hit you. You buried your face into his pillow and a whine left your throat as your eyes watered. There was nothing more you could do besides face the emotion of missing the love of your life. It’d get easier as time went on, it had to, right?

Just as a pitiful sob was about to make its escape, your phone began ringing. It was like your whole world lit up again when you saw his contact flashing across the screen. You answered the video call without a second thought. The lazy smile on Chan’s face instantly warmed your heart.

And for a little while, you felt at home again.

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @oc3anfloor @crybabykurominho

[norrizzandpia]

I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You (Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: With time apart, will Lando and Y/n set aside the mistakes they’ve made to make room for their love or will the fights take over and, in turn, their love become a story of the past?

Warnings: basically depression, getting evicted? Is that a trigger (lmk if i missed anything as always xx)

The months following Y/n walking out on Lando were pure hell for both parties involved. His performance in races plummeted as he stopped showing up for training sessions, meetings, and everything else in between. It didn’t matter how many pep talks each driver gave him with the end goal of at least getting him out of bed, he stopped being funny, charismatic, and optimistic Lando. The 23-year-old male became a shell of a human, completely swallowed whole by the void Y/n left in her wake. No one had seen him in that kind of pain ever. Most of the time, Lando would take a day to wallow, but he always ended up picking himself back up and trying again. But, with hours spent crying alone and days spent on autopilot, no one saw an end in sight.

Y/n, on the other hand, took the louder approach at trying to rid herself of the saddened feeling. Going to parties and drinking until she couldn’t walk straight became the norm for her. She was so afraid to be left alone to her thoughts, with her phone, with herself. She didn’t want to find out how excruciating the pain of losing Lando was once the alcohol stopped flowing and the music stopped playing.

However bittersweet, what it took to get her life to catch up with her was the day she held eviction papers in her hands. She had gotten home at 2 AM only to find a neon yellow sheet taped to her door. Honestly, she had been waiting for it to happen. With being unemployed and distracting herself from thoughts of Lando and everything they could have been, she stopped paying her bills. While dangerous, she couldn’t care what happened to herself. With news of Lando not doing well after they parted ways, she blamed herself for both of their pain. So, she clutched the bolded words in her small hands as tears welled in her eyes. Sobbing, she had called Daniel that night, pleading with him to come over and help claw her way out of the biggest hole she had ever dug for herself.

“Y/n?” Daniel’s groggy voice filtered through the speakers of the phone.

“Daniel.” Her choked sobs woke him up immediately, coincidentally jolting Heidi awake as he jumped out of bed to throw some clothes on, waving goodbye to his girlfriend and letting her know he would explain later.

By the time he was out of the door, her tears had quieted and she began filling him in on everything he had missed in the few months she had gone silent, “I’ve been evicted.”

His heart stopped, “What?”

Her tears returned, “Yep! I’m homeless now. I guess this is karma. I’ve ruined Lando’s life, I’ve ruined mine. I just ruin things. I hurt people and I destroy relationships and I stop everyone around me from being happy. God, I suck, don’t I? I mean, I had it all. I had Lando, he was telling me everything I wanted to hear. Jesus, he was begging me to stay and I still left! I can’t let myself be happy!”

Daniel’s heart broke for the girl on the other side of the phone as he sped to her house, “Y/n, none of that is true. You didn’t ruin anyone’s life. Your feelings were and are valid. You don’t destroy everything around you. You never have and you never will. Everyone loves you, Y/n. Don’t forget that.” He continued to reassure her as he drove to her. Listening to her cries of anguish only reaffirmed the fact that someone, anyone, had to force the couple to make amends.

—

“Lando? You in there?” Carlos asked through the door. A quiet murmur told the Spaniard his friend was, in fact, resting within his driver’s suite. Opening the door, he was met with Lando, sitting on the floor with the contents of his backpack spilled out in front of him.

Brows furrowed, Carlos crouched down to meet the London boy’s level, “What are you doing?”

Lando’s hands flew over the pile of contents, “I’m looking for a birthday card.”

Carlos shook his head, “A birthday card?”

Lando nodded frantically, seemingly in immense panic, “Yes! A birthday card! Y/n gave it to me last year and I never take it out of my backpack because I usually want to read it over again before a race! But, I can’t find it, Carlos! I can’t fucking find it anywhere!”

His breaths picked up as his voice broke. Carlos, gently, placed his hands over his friend’s swinging arms and held them tightly as to stop their flailing.

“Lando, you need to breathe.” Carlos said pointedly as he stared at the blue eyes across from him, filled with so much pain and regret.

Lando always tried to hide his tears from other people. Knowing that he was the happy and joyful one, it always felt wrong to show feelings of sadness in front of others. However, Y/n had shown him that showing that specific feeling was okay, that it allowed others to be able to connect with him on a deeper level. So, this time, he didn’t try to hide the tears that fought to fall from his face.

Lando’s hands rubbed over his eyes as he quietly said, “It’s the last thing I have of her and it’s gone, just like she is. I can’t take this anymore. I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. The thought of never seeing her again…” Carlos squeezed his shoulders, “That couldn’t have been the end of us, right?”

Carlos shook his head, “I don’t think it is, Lando. I think you’ll find your way back to each other, whether that’s tomorrow or in 50 years.”

Lando sighed, “But, I can’t wait 50 years.”

“Then, you have to fight for her.”

—

“What happens if she walks out?” Lando asked Daniel as they made their way toward Daniel’s front door.

“Then, you follow her.” Daniel retorted as they came to a stop in front of the large slab of wood, “Listen, Lando, it’s going to be hard, but you just have to be persistent. That is until you’re sure she doesn’t want to hear from you. But, I don’t think that’s a possibility. Ever since she’s moved in with me, I’ve gotten to catch her scrolling through old photos of the two of you or text messages you used to share. Trust me, mate, she’s still head over heels for you.”

Lando blushed and nodded his head, “Thank you for everything. For helping me plan all of this and allowing me to talk to her. I know how much you want to protect her from our lives.”

Daniel sighed, “You’re right, I do. She’s like a little sister, you know? But, I do know that, without you, she’s miserable and that’s worse to watch than her going through paparazzi.”

Pushing the door open and taking a deep breath, Lando whispered a thank you to Daniel before making his way through the foyer.

“Daniel? Is that you? I’m finishing up dinner right now!” Her voice yelled throughout the house and when it met Lando’s ears, he was hit with a large feeling of comfort. After all these years, she had become his home, it wasn’t a physical place or written address, it was just her.

Stepping into the kitchen, Lando stood and observed her while she had her back to him. The way she moved about the space with a small sense of confidence. The level at which she was carrying herself didn’t match the amount of self-assurance she used to have, but he had also been informed by Daniel that her mental health had taken a hit after all this time apart, something that hurt him more than her walking out on him could ever have.

As she turned around and her eyes landed on the boy she had dreamt of for so long, she faltered.

“Wha-” Words were lost on her, “What are you doing here?”

Lando breathed deeply, “I know everything that happened between us before was messy and we thought that was it, but I refuse to let you go that easy.”

She shook her head, “I’m confused. What are you saying?”

He took a step toward her and, thankfully, this time, she didn’t take one back, “I’m saying that I love you. I always have. Since the moment we met in the McLaren building where you asked me where Zak’s office was, I’ve been in love with you. I’m so sorry for everything I said in that interview. I never wanted to tell you about my feelings that way because I’ve always known you deserve so much. If I could take it all back and redo that moment over again, I would. If I could do it again, I would’ve told you how in love with you I am when I realized it which was, like, 2 months in. I was stupid to think I could stop my feelings for you by dating around and seeing what other people were out there because, in the end, I won’t ever be able to help falling in love with you.”

At his words, she took a step closer, so did he, “Not being with you is like if someone took cheese off pizza.” The two chuckled, “See! It’s ridiculous! Absolutely, positively stupid because they go together, they always have. That’s how I am with you. Without you, I’m not the same person and, now that I know that, I’m going to keep fighting for you, for us, until it works out. I love who I am with you, so does everyone else. It’s always been written in the story of my life to be with you because it’s a necessity. You have always been written into the story of my life because I’ve never loved anyone as hard as I do you and I’m incredibly sure that will never change.”

Now, standing so close to each other, Y/n looked into the eyes of the man she had missed so much and found herself forgiving him for the mistakes he made. With glass eyes and a quivering lip, she pulled him into her arms, “Lando, I’ve missed you.”

His arms squeezed her waist as he nuzzled his head in her neck, “I’ve missed you too, my love. You’ll never understand how much.”

They stood like that for a few moments before Lando’s head tugged backward and he captured her eyes with his, “Wait, you never said it.”

Tilting her head, Y/n asked, “Said what?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, “You know!”

She was about to protest until she realized what she had failed to say back in the heat of the moment, so she smiled and kissed his lips lightly before pulling back, her breath fanning across his face as she said, “I love you too. Always have and always will.”

Finally, the words that brought the light back into Lando’s life.

So, take my hand.

Take my whole life too.

For I can’t help falling in love with you.

For I can’t help falling in love with you.

[seelestia]

Dunno why I felt compelled to do this, but-

Here's some dialogue I just thought up regarding that angsty af Zhongli oneshot that a certain someone requested (who could it be I wonder 👀👀)

The ones talking are Ganyu and the Reader.

"Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Your love."

"..."

"I regret not being born earlier."

"I regret not being a goddess."

"I regret not being the first."

"I regret not having the long straight hair he so misses."

"But most of all, I regret not being her."

"But you had no control over any of those! It's not your fault!"

"...That's exactly why it hurts."

We love angst 😩💅💅👍✨

- Ever so sadly yours, 👹✨ Jae (also hi Lia :D been a while since I been in your inbox huehue)

— 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.

a continuation to do you love me? choose a decision at the end! only 1/2 endings available as of now.

summary: a cracked heart is like a cracked jar; it can only hold so much within before it shatters — what if you've come to terms that you cannot take the pain of the truth any longer? (1.2k+ words)

genre: angst, "loves you but not most" trope, lovers to ???? (open-ended / cliffhanger i'm sorry.) + read the alt text on the header for extra summary!

characters: ganyu, zhongli, guizhong (implied).

cw: descriptions of crying, one pet name.

thoughts: you came into my inbox after a while and you brought pain with you. i'm not particularly proud of this but here you go, i cannot be blamed for these buckets of tears any longer. (/j)

✰ main masterlist. // series masterlist.

The night was young in Liyue, the breeze was gentle as it swept across the lands — but oh, how you wished the wind could also blow the sadness in your heart.

Blurry sight, soaked cheeks, sheer and pure numbness. For how long had you been like this? Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. Whatever perception of time you had left just seemed to crumble to dust.

You couldn't help but wonder why? Ha, what irony when you knew very well why.

Wasn't it the truth that was relayed to you some time ago? Wasn't that why you decided to sneak away whilst your lover was sleeping, why you were crying in the company of a concerned friend, why you were here right now?

"I'm so sorry—" you choked out an apology to Ganyu through bated breath.

Your friend was out for a midnight stroll when she saw you and upon seeing how red your eyes were, she didn't leave your side out of worry ever since. You tried to reassure her that you'd be fine alone, really — but she looked so devastated, equally as sorrowful as you were like the very sadness in your heart was her own.

But you felt pathetic; so pathetic and so pitiful.

Nothing had been the same after that day, as much as you wished to deny it. Curiosity did kill the cat, after all; in your case, curiosity was what condemned your soul to a void of nothingness.

They said love was what filled a human's soul and if that were true, then you would be nothing but a shell of a soul. Zhongli gave you a love that you wished to cradle with your all forever — but he was never yours, never completely yours. Yet, how could you blame him? How could you ever blame him for experiencing a love so great he wasn't able to forget it?

"I'm not her. I could never be her," you finally forced the words out, clutching onto the railing of Liyue Harbor until a stinging pain greeted your hands. It had been the simplest conclusion, yet the hardest pill to swallow. A fate you couldn't change even if you wished you could so bad, someone unrivaled you could only imagine holding a candle to. Bitter and self-deprecating were the quiet laughter you let out at the realization.

Never was, never will.

"[Y/N], you don't have to apologize," was all Ganyu could afford to utter. She knew she should've said more, but the words escaped her barren mind; perhaps, it would be better to listen instead of saying something that could make matters worse. You could tell that Ganyu was disappointed in herself for not being able to provide you with profound wisdom or the right words of comfort.

Truthfully, you couldn't help but feel terrible for putting her in this situation, for possibly ruining her night with your mood. But when the Adeptus placed her hand on the crook of your elbow as a physical reminder that she was here for you, you smiled. Then, you turned your head towards the ocean and closed your eyes.

Finally, the pain of crying finally caught up to you, hoping that the blowing night breeze could somewhat soothe the stinging dryness and heavy bags underneath your eyes. As you did so, in the corner of your mind, a single thought passed by and you caught it by its tail.

Was it a thought meant to be voiced or buried? Either way, you brought it to life and wondered out loud.

"...Would it be better if I broke things off instead?"

Your question seemed to take Ganyu by complete surprise.

You knew why so; before your relationship with Zhongli came to be, Ganyu was one of the listening ears to your constant rambles about him. How much you admired him, how flustered you were when he smiled at you, or how you felt like you could float to the skies whenever he spared you a single glance. You recalled the surprised look on Ganyu's face when you first told her about your feelings for her Lord, but she was supportive towards your endeavor.

Now, here was where both of you stood. Oh, how time flew.

"Do you remember when he accepted my confession?" Even with your eyes closed, you could almost feel Ganyu nodding at your words. You were the same, you felt as if you could recall it like it had only been yesterday too. "I was so happy I felt like I could float to the clouds and never return. The man of my dreams is finally mine! I thought," you laughed, but there was no hint of mirth evident in your tone.

"What was it like? Being loved by him?" That sort of question sounded foreign to Ganyu but still, she asked, a willingness on her part to indulge in your nostalgia.

"Warm like having someone wrap a blanket around you and comforting like feeling the steam from a cup with your favorite tea on your face after a long day," you hummed. If loving Zhongli and being loved by him were a feeling, it would've been one that you'd never let go of... but you knew this feeling was no longer the same after the truth.

"I am not his greatest love, yet he is mine," it was something you stated solemnly, having come to terms with that fact yet not being able to fully withstand the ache that came with it yet.

When you continued, your voice broke and you frowned, "Why does it have to hurt so much? I want to stay with him, I want to pretend I didn't hear anything that day, I want to go back to the time where I knew nothing about her — but I couldn't."

The corner of your eyes began to sting once more, welling up with tears at a possibility of euphoria which you could never go to. "If only I could, then I wouldn't spend all my nights awake, wondering why I wasn't her or thinking of ways I could somehow be better than her in his eyes. If I could, I'd be sleeping happily in his arms right now and... I wouldn't feel this pain anymore."

There was no stopping the waterfall running down your cheeks now and you could feel that stinging pain again as a result. "But that's a fantasy," you breathed out. You were just so tired and your knees were beginning to feel weak — but still, you looked at Ganyu through your blurred vision.

"...What should I do? Should I save myself or dwell in blissful ignorance?" You whispered with a smile that was unbefitting of your melancholic question. Ganyu hesitated but before she could formulate an answer, a familiar spoke from behind the two of you.

"...My love," a voice that was all too familiar and a nickname that caused all that was going on in your brain to halt.

You froze, veins running cold.

"R-Rex Lapis?"

Ganyu's shocked yelp confirmed it all.

There Zhongli was, standing there. A few strands of his hair looked amiss as if licked by the wind from a fast-paced trip, as if he had just gone places, as if he just went everywhere searching after waking up with you nowhere to be found in his arms. Maybe, that was exactly what he did.

His amber eyes were downcast and the way he was standing so fixedly instead of looking like he had just arrived instantly made your heart clench — because that could only mean one thing.

He heard everything.

.

.

.

[ WHAT IS YOUR NEXT DECISION? ]

↪ Stay quiet and dwell on your thoughts of breaking up with Zhongli.

↪ Wipe away your tears and put on a smile as if Zhongli didn't hear anything. — COMING SOON!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

© SEELESTIA, jan 2023. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

[acaaai-t]

3 months and counting

[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]

cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, hints at suicide, probably unhealthy coping methods idk

The taste of bitter coffee and overly sweetened scent of dandelion tea lingered, lingered for a little longer than he liked.

Wilted flowers lay by a small vase of fresh ones. The pile of dead flowers seemed to grow bigger with each passing day.

The house was dim, with the only source of light being a weakly lit candle surrounded by empty dishes and untouched cutlery on the dining table. For a place that had felt so big not too long ago, it suddenly seemed to be so small.

Scaramouche hummed quietly to himself as he gently dusted at the debris that clung onto the picture frames. His touch was delicate as his fingers brush against the cold glass. The tune he has been singing echoed off the walls, traveling down the silent hallway.

How long has it been? He wonders.

Three days? A week? Two weeks? Scaramouche had long lost count.

Once he was sure that the picture frame was clean, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. In this empty house, the only thing that stood out most was the wall of what Scaramouche called ‘memories’. Golden frames surrounded photos of all kind, taken by you and hung by him.

He misses you.

On most days, Scaramouche would stay huddle in what once was a shared bedroom, buried deep beneath the blankets, scrolling through past messages. Dark circles heavily marked his under eyes, a stark contrast to his porcelain pale skin.

For the first month, he was a utter mess. Unable to process the tragic news of your sudden death.

It had just felt like yesterday, when the two of you were just out on a date, laughing and giggling.

The world was mocking him, taunting and laughing, watching the hallow shell of the man he once was as he stood there alone in the cemetery. Flowers previously placed by your grave was removed and tossed away, replaced by a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers.

The night you were buried under the willow tree, was the only night he had ever worked up the courage to sit by your grave, and wallow in the despair.

“I miss you,” the three words etched into his mind, quietly spoken into the empty void.

What about the plans you’ve made with him? The promises of a happy ending, a beautiful future.

Gone… all gone, far too soon.

“Will we get a cat too?” your voice was eager, full of hope.

Scaramouche smiled and pressed a small kiss to your temple. “Whatever you want.”

You giggled. “Let’s get a black cat then. I can see the resemblance between you and them.”

“Hey,” he whined.

You beamed up at him. “I love you.”

How he wished time could’ve stopped right there and then, allowing that precious moment to last for an eternity.

“I love you too.”

God, it was so fucking unfair. Why did you have to be the one to die?

It could’ve been anyone else, but you just had to be there at the wrong time.

He slumped down on the empty couch, cushions and throw blankets sitting in the same spot as before. Scaramouche didn’t dare touch anything. He was scared— terrified that if he even so as much move anything a centimeter away, he’ll lose the remaining parts of you that he had so desperately been trying to cling onto.

Scaramouche had already lost you once, he couldn’t lose you for a second time.

The soft golden glow of the ceiling lights flickered in and out for a brief moment, a sign that the electrical bill was long overdue. It was fortunate enough that the landlord took pity upon him and gave Scaramouche an extension to pay his bills.

3 months.

It’s been three whole months since the accident. Three months since he’s shut himself off from the outside world. Three months he spend crying and grieving, fantasizing scenarios of you and him. He knows it’ll never come true, but he can only hope.

Head barely above water, the bits of hope he has is all that’s supporting his weight, preventing him from drowning. Yet as the clock moves, he finds himself sinking lower and lower.

Two hollow knocks to his door startled him out of his trancelike state. “Who,” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

When the answer was delivered with another two knocks, he spoke louder. “What.”

“Scaramouche,” the muffled voice of Childe floated through the thick wood. “Open the door.”

He scowled, body already moving before his mind had even processed Childe’s words. The door cracked open with a soft creak, a silver of the sunlight spilling into the dark house. Scaramouche squeezed his eyes closed, momentarily blinded by the light. It’s been so long since he’s seen the sun.

Childe’s shadow stepped in and blocked out the light. He gave Scaramouche a tired smile. “Archons you look like shit.”

Scaramouche said nothing and kept his silent gaze on him.

The ginger sighed. “I was hoping you’d come visit… them, with us.”

There were no names mentioned, yet Scaramouche almost instantly knew who Childe was referring to. He felt his body tense up.

“Look, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but we all miss them, and you too, ‘mouche… you haven’t talked with any of us in three month now.”

Guilt gnawed at his heart, eating away yet another piece.

He hadn’t meant to neglect his friends. None of the things he was doing was intentional.

“… I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his gaze, unable to keep eye contact with Childe. He fear that if he continued, tears would begin to formulate, and there’d be nothing to stop them from flowing.

“Mind if I come in?” Childe’s voice softened.

Scaramouche felt tears prickling at his eyes. Childe placed one hand on his shoulder, gently giving a pat— and that was what finally broke him. The water droplets fell uncontrollably, rolling down his cheeks. A pitiful sight to behold.

Childe pulled him into a hug and remained quiet. There wasn’t much he could say to comfort Scaramouche’s pain. Everyone was still grieving, him included.

His quiet sniffles slowly died down. Just this one time, he thought to himself, wiping away at a tear. It’s the least he can do.

“Let me get my things,” Scaramouche’s voice was hoarse. A pain-like expression was scrawled across his features as he pulled away from Childe and step back into the shadows of his home.

There wasn’t much he needed to do to get ready. He’d given up on life the moment he was given the news that you didn’t make it. Why he had been fighting for so long, he didn’t understand.

He threw on a simple black cardigan, it was a handmade gift from you to him. In your words, it took you a week and a half to make it— “i hope you’ll like it,” you said sheepishly.

Of course he’ll love it. Cherish it even till death.

He took in a deep breath and went to look for Childe. The medications stored in his pockets jangled against the hard plastic with each step he took.

The last strands of hope snapped, and he sunk. Bubbles floating to the surface as his darkened silhouette slowly disappeared under the void of water.

Tonight, he decided. Tonight, he’ll be able to see you again.

The lights sputtered out as Scaramouche flipped the switch. With the last bits of power it has, the lights illuminated the series of letter sprawled across the glass coffee table— each one address to someone dear to him.

Then it all went dark.

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— this was fun to write

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[shootingmorningstar]

Hello! I love your writing🤍 could I request sfw and nsfw head-canons for Husker? He doesn’t get enough love. Thank you and take your time.😽😽

Of course you can, anon .ᐟ Maybe I'm just a little biased, big fan of cats that I am, but I completely agree. Thank you, by the way. That's so sweet .ᐟ Don't worry, I saw your extra ask about a fem reader, so I'll be adding that in .ᐟ

The NSFW parts of this post will be hidden under the cut ~ . Enjoy .ᐟ

HUSKER X FEM READER HEADCANONS .ᐟ

This poor kitty cat is entirely too touch starved, even if he won't show it. Asking for affection is just not something his persona really allows, you know .ᐣ So unless it's just the two of you and your relationship has been established for quite some time, it's likely you're going to be the one to initiate physical contact.

Once you have, though .ᐣ Good luck getting him to get up. You know that feeling that you get when a pet sits on your lap and you want to get up but they just look so comfortable that you can't bear to move them .ᐣ

It's the exact same for Husk. You'd been the one to start it, your head leaning against his shoulder. It had been a long day at the hotel for both of you and you'd settled yourselves into his room, some movie that had lost the both of yours attention a while back.

Still, you love getting to spend time with him, no matter what the scenario is. Something like a boring movie couldn't even begin to put a damper on your mood. You'd just have to find something else you could enjoy doing together.

So, innocent as it had been, you'd looked over to him for some cuddles and the second he felt your weight against him, he just sort of deflates.

Like I mentioned earlier, I think he'd try to be at least a little slick about it. Sure, he's leaning back into you but that's not so bad, right .ᐣ It's not like you can tell the second you'd touched him the stress of his day had melted away, surely .ᐣ

You can absolutely tell. You wouldn't ever get this far into a relationship with Husker without being able to tell just how he's feeling.

To me, Husk isn't the sort of guy to get into empty relationships. His life is already empty enough as it is. He's practically a shell of his former self. No soul, no power, bound to a chain at Alastor's grasp .ᐣ Booze is his only vice left, and even that doesn't seem to help.

So I really can't see Husk doing anything without emotion behind it -- especially with being coerced to work full time at the Hotel. What good is something, someone else who's going to leave him after they get what they want .ᐣ

All this is to say that Husk isn't the one night stand type, or is he in it for any sort of flings. When you'd become his girlfriend it was after he'd taken the time to get to know you and you him. You were the first person in the decades that had passed after he sold his soul that made him feel something, and that doesn't happen overnight.

So, yes, you can easily read him, and you can tell that he's getting far more comfort from your touch than he's letting on. That's exactly why it's so endearing when you see him subtly reach for your hand to entwine with his own, or the way his hand seems to pause in uncertainty before wrapping his arm around you.

He also doesn't seem too outwardly excited about going out -- that is if Alastor even allows it, but don't be fooled, he is thrilled.

He loves hearing you talk about things that matter to you. You have so much passion, so much life that it helps him fill his own voids in those areas. He loves the excited look in your eye as you drag him around Pride, sharing a memory or two about your life while you were alive as you do.

Take him home after a date and grab a drink with him -- the best thing about drinking with you is that you won't let him go too far. Addiction can't be cured by love alone, but having someone to take care of him helps his mental health enough to make him want to get better.

Speaking of taking care of him .ᐣ NSFW cut here .ᐟ

If you ask me, Husker's a switch. I don't think he'd mind being the dominant partner, not in the slightest. If that's what you're into, he will gladly take that role for you. Same for submissive - he likes being dominant and submissive equally, but for different reasons.

It takes a lot for him to open up enough to admit it, but I think what he really enjoys about being submissive is just that -- by taking that role, he's getting the chance to be taken care of. That's something he never gets, not anymore.

I want to say his dick is like.. 6.5 inches .ᐣ It's always the grumpy ones with big dicks. Perfectly sized, big but not to the point where it's painful.

Kiss all over his face while you take the time to undress him and he will be putty in your hands. This is one of the only times you'll catch him blushing.

Not to mention the instant hard-on.

He's really big on cowgirl when he's playing the submissive role. There's something about you taking the work into your own hands by riding him and just allowing him to relax and enjoy that drives him insane. Let him lay back and watch how gorgeous you are straddling him.

Bonus points if you lean forward enough to take his hand in your own and talk gently to him.

Please praise him while he's being submissive .ᐟ Tell him how good of a boy he is and how much you love him, how good you want to make him feel. He'll purr so loudly.

Pull his tail. Do it while he's close and he's cumming immediately.

As for Husk in the dominant role .ᐣ He loves it because every single other form of control in his life has been taken away.

He gets to decide almost nothing, and the thrill he gets from being in charge of both your pleasure and his is enough to spark a possessive attitude in him.

You won't leave him like everyone else, right .ᐣ You're the last thing he has. He'll treat you so good, you'll never feel unloved when you're with him so please say you're his .ᐣ

Let him prove it with bite marks and he will be over the moon. He looks like the cat who got the cream. In more ways than one.

Call it this to his face and he'll scowl, but he's huge on doggy when he's dominant. Just the thought of getting to choose where he bends you over and takes you is enough to get him hard and aching. I can't imagine he's too big on degradation, though. It hits just a little too close to home, and even if it's just an act, you don't deserve to ever feel less than.

This was my first time fulfilling a nsfw request, so I hope it's to you guys' liking .ᐟ My last imagines blog was sfw only, so I'm just a little nervous posting this. Let me know if it came out well .ᐣ As always, feedback fuels my writing muse .ᐟ A like or a comment would make my day. Bye for now ~

[bambheez]

tonight is for the two of us (l.hs)

SUMMARY: two lonely people who find comfort in each other’s presence for one night. PAIRING: heeseung x reader GENRE: angst, smut WARNINGS: mentions of character death, grief, depression, insomnia, child and domestic abuse, alcoholism, profanity, light smut WORD COUNT: 5.8k A/N: the way this entire thing screams verbosity but that’s just my style so pls forgive me lol… obviously this is different from what I’ve posted so far in that there’s actual plot and it’s somewhat dark (so please read the long ass list of warnings before you proceed). you can also listen to the PLAYLIST for this story (I am in love with all of these songs)! as always, reblogs/comments/feedback are especially appreciated! :)

Your clammy hands were gripping the steering wheel to the point where your dashboard lights illuminated the whites of your knuckles. As you made your way up the windy roads to the lookout point, void of any streetlamps and relying on your high beams on blast, you were silently thankful for the lack of cars trailing behind you or driving toward you in the opposite direction.

Had you done your research beforehand instead of simply plugging the address into your phone, perhaps you wouldn’t have embarked on this hour-long journey to go stargazing with your colleagues. You suggested carpooling to no avail, having to face your absurd fear of driving not only at night but also on sketchy, unfamiliar roads. 

A slight crane of your neck to the right brought you a view of the city’s skyline in the distance, a hazy glow amidst a sea of black, and you wished you could teleport back to the comfort of the bright, bustling city. The mere thought of having to drive back down this same path later had you letting out a deep groan. 

A sudden interjection of your phone’s navigation app announcing that you were arriving at your destination in 100 feet caused you to whip your head back in focus, scanning the parking lot as you approached the top of the mountain. 

Your car was the only one in the vicinity, save for a camper van with none of its lights on, looking particularly worn-down and deserted. You parked in a random empty spot, unplugging your phone from its charging port before stepping out into the brisk air. Spotting a bench near the lookout point, you took long strides up across the parking lot and up the hill, plopping down to sit and fishing your phone out of your pocket to check your notifications.

You were surprised to find an empty home screen, expecting a “sorry, we’ll be a few minutes late” in your group chat seeing as it was over ten minutes past the time you were meant to arrive. You dialed the number of the coworker who invited you and you heard her voice come onto the line after three long rings.

“Hey! What’s up?” she was nearly screaming over sounds of at least a dozen other people talking.

“What’s your ETA?” you were muttering, already having a bad feeling of what she was about to say.

“H-huh? Oh, it’s supposed to rain tonight, so we canceled! Sorry, I thought we told y–” you were tearing the phone away from the side of your face and hanging up before she could finish her sentence. 

A miserable chuckle escaped your mouth as you took note of the thick clouds hanging over the sky and brought your feet up on the bench, hugging your knees and resting your back against the wood. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else. 

You thought perhaps moving across the country to a big city would put an end to the dread of a thousand tomorrows, none of them promising any semblance of change, but the truth was you never felt more alone than when you were standing in the midst of a busy crowd surrounded by towering skyscrapers and blinding lights—a single drop in the ocean.

There was no way to describe it other than a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant, dull ache. A black hole that threatened to swallow every part of you until all that was left was a human shaped shell, too numb to feel the pain anymore.

There were nights you unwillingly let it control you, and all you could do in those long hours was find an enclosed place to shake until the tears subsided. The vast, open darkness in front of you made you wonder just how many people were out there feeling the same way you did. 

Some old acquaintances had promised to stay in touch, yet what you heard from them was comparable to radio silence, their smiles and efforts merely pixelated and small yellow faces that stopped coming whenever your world fell apart—which was often.

Trudging to get past each day made you realize just how much of your world had revolved around one person—one last connection with a life that used to be. You couldn’t tell her when your local tea shop came out with her favorite lychee drink, when you listened to a song that reminded you of her, how you saw someone on the subway reading a book she had recommended you, or how you overheard a couple arguing over the proper way to load a dishwasher, the very thing you had repeatedly bickered about as college roommates. 

And now that she was no longer in this life, you were constantly questioning your purpose, even occasionally wondering if you were meant to be alone. Was this what the universe had planned for you? You weren’t sure you believed in multiple soulmates, so what happened when yours left you?

If you miss me, just look at the stars. She would always sign the text with a ‘;)’ at the end and you would mock her with a scoff, replying with or I could just call you, dumbass. 

Without realizing, you were already bringing up your history of text messages with her, scrolling through the endless one-sided green texts, each decorated with a delivery error message. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard while the pulsing blue line stared back at you.

“Where are you?” you were wailing out, wincing subsequently at the unexpected echo and crack in your voice. The thundering in the distance seemed to answer you, but you wished the stars were out so that you’d at least know she was watching over you. You couldn’t help but feel that the cloudy skies meant she couldn’t see you, or worse, look out for you. A droplet landed on your cheek and your eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling. You weren’t sure if they were your tears or hers.

It was the end of the week and you somehow found yourself making your way up the mountainous roads again, remembering coming home last time with extraordinary peace of mind despite the frazzled state you arrived in. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was pushing you to get out of the city once again. 

The air was noticeably cooler than it had been last week, and you were scanning your backseat for any signs of a sweater, sighing inwardly when you found none. It was warm when you left your office earlier in the evening and you mentally cursed at yourself for not checking the weather yet again. 

You contemplated staying in the car with the heat on, but a glimpse of your glowing fuel light had you rolling your eyes in disappointment for being so forgetful and inattentive on top of the countless other flaws you felt you carried. 

You were making your way toward the empty bench again, spotting the camper van in the same parking spot. You assumed it hadn’t moved since the last time you were here, most likely having been abandoned. There were considerably fewer clouds in the sky today and you beamed at the view of the small specks of white splattered against the darkness.

“Give me a sign that it’ll all be okay, please,” you spoke while eyeing the stars above you, some brighter than others. Your hair flew in the wind, draping across your face as goosebumps formed on your arms as you prepared to let the rest of your thoughts out. You didn’t remember closing your eyes, but the sound of footsteps approaching had you instinctively opening them and straightening your back and you suddenly felt a weight on your shoulders, gasping to find someone draping their flannel jacket over you.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he spoke against the wind. “You seemed cold.” A boy, now in a plain black shirt, was making his way around the other side of the bench to sit down next to you. He left considerable space between the two of you, which you were silently thankful for. 

You spun around to see where he had parked, not having noticed another car arrive and when you saw nothing but your own car and the camper van, you felt a chill run down your spine. Alarm bells should’ve been going off in your head, but you were seemingly more concerned with the fact that he had most likely seen you in your most vulnerable state, crying out into the open void like a lunatic, not only once, but twice now.

When he felt you staring, he turned his head only to briefly make eye contact with you before glancing back down at his lap. His skin was a pretty shade of olive, the tip of his nose illuminated by the hazy moonlight. You took in the rest of his appearance—worn sneakers with one of the laces untied, ripped jeans, and shaggy hair that covered his eyes, and you found yourself resisting the urge to run your fingers through his locks.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he was asking, picking his head up once more to look at you.

You weren’t so sure yourself. Maybe it was the fact that this was the only place where you didn’t have to pretend. You didn’t know if you wanted to talk to her, to yourself, or to the universe in general; you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or sit in complete silence. All you knew was that after a particularly bad day at work, you were taking the exit off the highway without thinking, almost as if you had taken this same exit a hundred times before.

“I could ask you the same,” you chuckled. There was an awkward pause, and you were realizing that he wasn’t going to answer you.

“I’m here to u-uh, stargaze.” You were telling the truth, at least partially. 

“Stargazing’s not the best here, with the light pollution and all,” he replied. You hummed, unsure how to respond. He noticed your hesitation and was rubbing his palms against the black denim of his jeans before clearing his throat. 

“‘m Heeseung, by the way.” At first, Heeseung found himself slightly annoyed at the fact that you had disrupted his peace and not-so-secret hideout spot, observing you from his van while you mumbled to yourself on the bench. 

“I travel in my van, but ‘m running low on money.” He was rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed to admit the fact. “The parking here’s free, so…” he trailed off, regretting it immediately after stating the obvious. 

As he got a better look at your face up close, he saw that a small frown seemed semi-permanently etched on your face, which he could tell you were hopelessly attempting to correct as he studied you. A wave of guilt washed over him upon registration of his untimely intrusion, realizing that you would probably prefer to be alone right now due to the blatant evidence that you were pretending to look less dejected in front of him. 

You were briefly introducing yourself as someone new to the city, not knowing what else was interesting about you and accidentally slipping in the fact that you ‘didn’t really have any friends’, teeth chattering slightly even with his jacket resting over your frame. 

“Did you want to sit in my van instead?” Your frown was faltering when your lips parted in surprise at his request. He contemplated adding a lighthearted comment about not being a serial killer to reassure you, but you were already trailing behind him as he stood up. You could tell he was tall when his legs were stretched out next to yours while sat next on the bench, but he was even taller than you’d imagined when he was standing up, even with a slight hunch in his posture. 

Heeseung peered over his shoulder to catch you struggling to keep up with his longer strides, still clutching onto the collar of his jacket over your right shoulder and he let a soft smile adorn his face as he slowed his pace to match yours. He was rounding the front of his van to open the passenger side door for you but you were already cutting in front of him, hopping up on the door sill clumsily.

You let yourself into the passenger side, holding the jacket out to Heeseung who was still staring at you through the driver side window. He opened the door and pulled himself into the seat, reluctantly taking the jacket from you and tossing it on some unknown surface of the van behind him. 

He turned on the ceiling light of his van and began blasting the heat after noticing that you were sitting on the backs of your hands. His fingers were fiddling with the knobs on the CD player to turn on soft, lullaby-like piano music and you made a poor attempt at stifling a laugh. For some reason, you expected him to be into rock music and found the unexpected contrast endearing. 

Heeseung shot you a confused look at the sound and you simply shook your head and waved it off, a small smile still playing on your lips. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but you felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

For the first time that night, you were taking a closer look at his features. Underneath his bangs were eyes that carried both fervor and innocence and lips that were held in a constant, soft pout. He was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes darting around the space in front of him at the feeling of you staring at him so intently. He shook his head so that his bangs were falling over his eyes again in one swift movement before thinking of something to say to take your attention off his face.

“I dropped out of college when I was 18,” he was muttering, trying to gauge your reaction from his peripheral view before continuing. “And then I ran away from home to travel.” He was leaving out key details like the fact that he didn’t necessarily run away from home with the goal of traveling but instead began traveling because he simply had nowhere else to go. 

When he came home after his first semester with an official diagnosis from his university’s health center, his family refused to let him seek therapy or any other form of help. With a father who was never home and a mother who went as far as threatening to disown him if he didn’t return to school the following semester, Heeseung wasn’t left with much of a choice. 

You were surprised that he was even sharing this much with you. Your heart tightened at the thought of him being alone in the world at such a young age and his lack of a support system, seemingly more alone than you were. He was considerably better than you at concealing his loneliness and you hated that fact, not because you wanted to be better at it but because you knew just how much effort it took. 

Heeseung could barely remember what it was like to have his father around, the only seemingly harmonious moments spent with him before he started grade school fleeting and long forgotten. The bulk of his adolescence was spent resenting his father for the way he treated his mother, where his father would appear through the front door every few months or so in one of his drunken episodes, an empty bottle of liquor already in hand.

He almost always knew when it was happening, the rummaging through the cabinets and refrigerator for alcohol reverberating through the house and to his room. He couldn’t understand why his mother wouldn’t stop restocking the house with it or why she wouldn’t change the locks or take his father’s keys or even file for a divorce, and he couldn’t help but despise her weakness and inability to stop pitying her husband.

“Look who decided to finally show up for his mother,” the older man seethed, breath reeking from the drunken stench.

A particularly loud argument had Heeseung flying down the stairs, the sound of a glass bottle breaking causing his mother to let a scream out of her mouth. He took in his father’s appearance, unshaven and eyes bloodshot with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. A look off to the side at his mother with tears streaming down her cheeks was suddenly leading to punches being thrown and knuckles growing bloodied. A harsh shove from his father caused him to lose his balance and tumble onto the wooden floor.

“Maybe ask yourself why you’re defending a fucking cheater instead,” his voice boomed through the living room. A puzzled expression took over Heeseung’s face as he turned toward his mother who winced both at the sound of her husband slamming the door as he left and the way her son ran his tongue over his busted lip, eyes beginning to gloss over.

After finally grasping the fact that his mother was not the person she made herself out to be and what pushed his father over the edge over ten years ago, Heeseung, who had always stuck close to her growing up, attempting to make up for the lack of his father’s presence, began growing increasingly distant from her as he finished his final years of high school. The very thing he swore he wouldn’t touch in his life was the only thing he took with him and stashed in his van the night he left.

He was wrapping his hand around the nearly empty beer can in his cup holder from the thought of his childhood memories and shooting a pained expression your way at the paled look on your face, eyes pooling with concern and he tried to perceive it as anything but pity.

“I honestly don’t mind it much,” he was saying, but an unfamiliar look was flashing across his eyes and even though you barely knew him, you felt like you could see right through him.

He was redirecting his gaze out the windshield. He had used the North Star almost as a source of direction in his travels for the past few years, as cliche as it sounded. Tonight was the first night it was visible in the two weeks he had been parked here, deciding to camp out in the deserted park until it reappeared and he had saved enough money from his part-time job in the city. 

The North Star appeared noticeably brighter tonight, a beacon in the middle of the night shrouded in shadows and Heeseung was suddenly wondering whether it was a coincidence that you were here with him at this very moment, whether you were the very person who hung the North Star for him in the night sky, guiding him toward a purposeful destination, or whether you were the destination itself. He was shaking his head at the intrusive thought as you followed his line of sight.

The heat blowing throughout the van was fogging up the windows and blocking up your view of what he seemed to be focusing his gaze on. Heeseung watched as you turned in your seat, moving your body to face the passenger window with one leg folded up on the cushion. You were bringing your fingers up to touch the glass, slowly drawing a heart with your index finger and peering through the clear traces at the sky.

Heeseung, nowhere near intoxicated from his built up tolerance over the years, took one last sip of his drink, still not taking his eyes away from your side profile and subtle movements as you immersed yourself in your own world for the second time that night. He was turning to his own window to mirror your actions, outlining a much sloppier heart on the glass. By the time he finished and spun around to face you, you were already watching him with a beam, the apples of your cheeks rosy. 

You were suddenly bursting into laughter, your brain on autopilot as you leaned over the center console to fix his drawing. You were practically pushed up against him with your hand resting on his thigh as you drew over his sketch on the window, adding a dozen more hearts around the first and filling up the rest of the fogged glass with your doodles. Heeseung was noticeably stiffening under you, attempting to distract himself from his quickening heart rate by picking at the fraying of his jeans on the leg you weren’t perched on.

You leaned back to admire your silly artwork for a few seconds before glancing over at him and noticing Heeseung’s eyelashes fluttering delicately, still reeling from the sudden physical contact. Upon noticing the close proximity, you were removing your hand from his lap and bringing it back into your own, leaning into the seat again and you could feel the heat evident on your face, knowing it must’ve been even more apparent to him. He was no better at concealing his own expressions as his sheepish smile faltered, feeling abnormally disappointed in the sudden loss of contact.

Still in a daze, Heeseung was reaching behind him to grab a can of beer, holding it out in front of you while his eyes were trained on the single heart drawn on the passenger side window. He held back a grimace as he realized that he’d done so without thinking, hoping you hadn’t caught on to his dependency. You accepted his offer without hesitation, wiping the rim of the opening with the bottom of your shirt and popping open the tab, taking gulps at a much faster speed than you were normally used to.

Your head was still spinning with the thought and feeling of the burn of your fingertips against his thigh. You both drifted into a comfortable silence, the music no longer playing since the CD player in his rundown van didn’t have the ability to auto loop tracks or albums and the hammering of his heart against his chest seemed almost too loud for you not to notice. Heeseung thought about taking out the disk and replacing it but decided against it, not wanting to disrupt the stillness of the air around you. 

Your lips formed a small frown as you saw clouds beginning to shape. You thought it was the alcohol deceiving you, but you blinked a few times and the clouds were still there. 

“I hate the rain because it means I can’t see her. It makes me think that she’s crying,” you suddenly whispered, breaking the silence. You could feel his gaze fall to you as he fell out of his trance, but he didn’t ask who, just simply nodded. 

His reaction made you freeze in your spot, realizing you had most definitely overshared beyond an imaginary boundary. You almost wanted to apologize for it before you were saying the next thing that came to your mind. 

“Have you ever fallen in love?” you were abruptly blurting out.

He was quirking his brow in amusement. “Come on, I can barely fall asleep,” he laughed softly but not without a somewhat pained expression behind his eyes. You had assumed it was a joke, but the sincerity in the way he observed you told you it wasn’t. Your eyes widened before you were nodding softly and returning a weak smile, taken aback by his confession.

“Don’t worry about it,” he was brushing it off. “You?”

You were staring out the windshield again for a few moments, lost in your thoughts before responding, “A lot of unrequited love, if that counts.”

You began to explain how you had never been in a relationship, not because you didn’t want to, but because it was seemingly out of your control. You presumed that the time you spent on this earth loving romantically without any reciprocation had somehow altered your brain chemistry to truly believe that you were meant to be alone from the very beginning, and you were often wondering which would hurt more, to have had true love and lost it or to never have had it at all. Dwelling over the fact that you had already experienced some form of both made your situation seem all the more ridiculous.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him the way you were flighty in your thoughts, jumping to one without finishing the other. As a result of the accumulation of thoughts you created when you were alone, all the things you would talk to yourself about came spilling out. 

Your mind went on talking even when you were alone. And when you ran out of storage, the thoughts needed to come out somehow. Partly due to your insecurities you hoped that by talking more, you’d be accepted and loved by someone—it hadn’t proved itself to be a successful method in the past and you weren’t sure it ever would be.

“I give, and give, and give. That’s all I do,” you continued, your voice now uneven and trembling slightly. “I give until I have nothing left. I’m terrified of the love I have because I know it will ruin me—it already has, and I know I will continue to let it.”

You were heaving out a sigh of relief at the massive weight being lifted off your chest, still feeling a sort of emptiness but a strangely pleasant lightness associated with it. Even then, you were perplexed by your own eagerness to share your entire life story to someone you met just hours ago, partially blaming the alcohol for how unfiltered you became and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking from the stoic look on his face and his big doe eyes blinking back at you.

It most definitely wasn’t a feeling of pity, that he knew. It felt almost like a weakness in the heart—like his heart wasn’t working properly—a fleeting lightness that passed through him, being simultaneously lulled to sleep by a single gesture and set on fire by your every touch. 

Your eyes were glossed over, from your lengthy outpour or intoxicated state Heeseung wasn’t certain, but he held not a single ounce of doubt of the amount of love you held. Unsure of what came over him, he was resisting the urge to lean over and cup the sides of your face and tell you that even in his broken, wretched state, he was willing to accept anything you had to give and return everything and more.

“It’s really late. I can drive you home,” he was offering. He convinced you he was sobering up with a lazy smile plastered on his face, yet you couldn’t help raising your brows at the slight flush of his cheeks and numerous empty beer cans in the cup holder.

“I think I’d rather stay here,” you were speaking nonchalantly before turning to look at him with what Heeseung thought he saw were literal stars in your otherwise cloudy eyes. At the implication of your words, he could feel and hear his heart beating at a pace so fast it rang through his ears. As much of an open book as you were, he didn’t expect that from you and you even stunned yourself as the words left you, mouth now agape as you stared back at him. 

You wanted to blame your lack of sobriety yet again but you knew that the flood of emotions had put your mind in a remarkable state of clarity. His calmness—how he listened and watched attentively without any questions, just simply looking at you with a fondness in his eyes—fastened you with a sense of immense trust in him.

Thankfully, he was quickly nodding and turning around to turn on the lights that lit up the rest of his van. In contrast to his somewhat rugged appearance, his space was neat and cozy and it amazed you how few belongings he had; everything fit in his van and there was almost no clutter. The only hint of personality and life you could find was the guitar hanging over the bed, and you were smiling to yourself knowing he at least had music to accompany him. 

Heeseung had suggested cooking some ramen for you, but you simply shook your head with a sleepy smile and told him you weren’t hungry. He didn’t say anything as he clambered on top of his sheets and patted the spot next to him. There wasn’t much space in the van for anything other than a bed and a small stovetop and you were skeptical there would be enough room for you to both lay comfortably. 

You fit yourself on the mattress between him and the back door while he crawled under the covers, pushing his pillow toward you behind your back and grabbing an extra one from beneath the bed for himself. You were still sat leaning against the side of the van as you contemplated your next move, wondering whether you should prioritize comfort or decency and you squirmed at the thought of your dirty jeans on someone else’s sheets.

A brief glance at Heeseung, who was lying on his back with his eyes closed and hands resting over his stomach, had you quickly tucking yourself under the blankets and unzipping your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them over your ankles. You were shuffling downward and placing the now folded jeans beside your pillow, facing away from Heeseung as you pulled the covers up to your chest.

You couldn’t tell but Heeseung had visibly stiffened, eyebrows now slightly furrowed in concentration as he attempted to fall asleep, willing himself to think about anything other than you and your presence inches away from him. He was staring at the ceiling, breath uneven at how you were so similar in the way you craved connection yet different in the sources of your troubles and the way you coped—one capable of giving anything and one who didn’t know how to give at all. 

You felt the bed dip and you could hear Heeseung shuffling around behind you, his heavy breathing against your neck telling you he was now facing you, and still lying on your side when you felt his fingers graze across your hip bone. 

The heat radiating off his body behind you was seeping into your own skin, slowly building into a burn before you were flipping yourself over to face him and immediately thrown off by just how close he was. A slight lean forward from either of you would close the gap, and your eyes were unconsciously flickering down to his lips at the thought.

You were pulling yourself flush against him, savoring the feeling of your bodies pressed so closely together, resting your head in the crook of his neck and he let out a sharp gasp from above you. You could feel his heart beating underneath your palms as you moved your hands across the expanse of his chest. A slight crane of your neck and you were tentatively placing your lips against his jaw, a shaky breath of Heeseung’s fanning your face from the action.

As your kisses moved from his jaw down to his neck, his mouth was parting softly, lifting his head into the pillow to provide you with more access. One particularly harsh suck against his collarbone had him surging forward for more, latching onto the hem of your shirt and fingers hesitantly grazing the waistband of your underwear. 

Heeseung was then leaning forward onto his elbows, the hand that was previously slotted between your bodies wrapping around your shoulder to pull you up and level to him, bringing you into a gentle kiss that caused the hairs on your arms to raise.

It overwhelmed you how thrilling yet calming it felt to be kissing him. You were completely drinking him in, the touch of his skin against yours heating up the pits of your stomach and causing shivers to wrack through you and simultaneously taking your mind off of everything else.

He was gentle with his touch, but his lips were rough and chapped and he was kissing you with so much longing and desperation that for a second, you contemplated whether this was his first time kissing someone, craving any and every bit of physical contact. You quickly dismissed the thought as he took advantage of your inattentiveness with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth skillfully.

Your stomach churned and you were writhing under his touch from the way your tongues intertwined, a pit of heat rising in your lower stomach. Heeseung was letting out a choked whimper at the feeling of your hands reaching underneath his shirt, smoothing over the skin of his stomach. 

“You okay?” you were whispering as you pulled back, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. He held your gaze for a few seconds, both delicacy and sharpness etched in his features, before his lashes fluttered and he was shaking his head, burying it in your neck. Your hands were sliding along his scalp to soothingly stroke his hair, heart aching at the vulnerability and rawness with which he looked at you. 

It wasn’t clear whether the cause of his feverish state was from the simple presence of you in his arms, but something told you that you should’ve seen it coming when the way he looked at you gradually began changing as the hours progressed.

You were pulling back and placing one last, soft kiss against his lips, lingering for a few moments too long before wrapping your arms around his torso in a tight embrace and rubbing his back gingerly. 

Heeseung was redirecting his attention out at the sky through the back window, foolishly looking for you and him in the stars. Some stars gradually dim and lose their luster, and on a rainy night, you might never see them again. 

You weren’t thinking about what would happen when the stars faded and the sun rose, or when you would see him again—you didn’t need to see him or be physically near him to feel him. Your subconscious was finding comfort simply from the feeling of his chest pressed against yours, your thumb rubbing circles over his shirt while you listened to Heeseung's soft breathing and the sound of the rain beginning to fall against the windows.

A/N: the bolded quote is based on something I saw on twitter: “I’m scared of the love I have for you. Because I know it will ruin me. And I also know that I will let it. I love hard.” but I couldn’t find the source, so credits to the original owner.

[reidfucker]

mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric

spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.

- working for the knife

honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:

I always thought the choice was mine

And I was right, but I just chose wrong

I start the day lying and end with the truth

That I'm dying for the knife

- liquid smooth

I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too

I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe

About to fall

How I feel this river rushing through my veins

With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round

- class of 2013

Mom, would you wash my back?

This once, and then we can forget

And I'll leave what I'm chasing

For the other girls to pursue

Mom, am I still young?

Can I dream for a few months more?

- i don't smoke

Just don't leave me alone

Wondering where you are

I am stronger than you give me

Credit for

If your hands need to break

More than trinkets in your room

You can lean on my arm

As you break my heart

- abbey

again, the entire song is very reid, but:

I am something

I have been something

I was born something

What could I be?

There is a light that I can see

But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me

There is a dream that I sometimes see

That only appears in the dark of sleep

- i bet on losing dogs

Will you let me, baby, lose

On losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I wanna feel it

I bet on losing dogs

I always want you when I'm finally fine

- the deal

Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night

And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight

Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me

So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said

"Now I'm taken, the night has me

You won't hear me singin'

You're a cage without me

Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for

Now I'm taken, the night has me"

- fireworks

this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:

One morning this sadness will fossilize

And I will forget how to cry

I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change

Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye

I will go jogging routinely

Calmly and rhythmically run

And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side

I'll pull it out without questioning why

- i don't like my mind

again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room

With all its opinions about the things that I've done

So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone

And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake

- first love / late spring

very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:

And I was so young when I behaved 25

Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child

And I don't wanna go home

Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

- there's nothing left for you

You could touch fire

You could fly

It was your right

It was your life

And then it passed

To someone new

It'll keep passin' on

Long after you

- nobody

And I don't want your pity

I just want somebody near me

Guess I'm a coward

I just want to feel alright

- because dreaming costs money, my dear

I once lived in the sea

Bring me to your ear, you can hear

The tide where I used to be

Though now I'm but a shell

- a pearl

Sorry, I don't want your touch

It's not that I don't want you

Sorry, I can't take your touch

It's just that I fell in love with a war

Nobody told me it ended

And it left a pearl in my head

And I roll it around every night

Just to watch it glow

Every night, baby, that's where I go

- real men

Real men keep cool in the face of a fire

Go down with the ship

And real men don't eat

'Cause they're above that, damn it

Oh, I'm gonna be a real man

- crack baby

It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation

Both these 20 years tryna fill the void

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you had it once

And you know that you want it back

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you're needing it

And you know that you need it bad

[magicbystarlight]

Before I Knew You - Part Nine

Masterlist, Part One

I appreciate all the love this fic gets, I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get the next chapter up. Thank you for reading ❤️

Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.

Word Count: 3,507

Warnings: 18+, smuuuuut, fingering, unprotected sex (there won't be any suprise pregnacy, let's just pretend all witches and wizards are on birth control), jealousy, self-image issues, Bill being a cocky little shit, some dom Bill/sub reader undertones. Minors DNI.

A/N: If you requested to be on the taglist and found that you weren’t on it, it’s mostly likely because there is not an indicator on your blog that you are 18+ which is a requirement for my taglists.

“We can discuss it more tomorrow. After he leaves.”

You’d fled left his room quickly after. 

What had you done? Why had you offered to have sex with Bill Weasley?

You knew why. 

It was Bill Weasley. One look at him explained why. But still, it was a bad idea. He was your patient. And you were technically under his protection. It was a bad idea. Really. Truly. But you couldn’t come up with an excuse convincing enough to talk yourself out of it. 

At least he won’t be in pain, you told yourself.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night, though in honesty you hadn’t slept well since that last night in Bill’s arms before Kingsley's arrival. But the tossing and turning of other nights was stilled, your eyes boring into the ceiling until the morning sun chased out the void. 

Bill was in a far better mood at breakfast. Though the conversation was far from light as Kingsley’s plans and Death Eater activity were discussed, the underlying animosity that had been a defining trait of Bill’s tone in the weeks following Kingsley’s arrival was noticeably missing. Even as he left to work, Bill’s attitude was unusually chipper.

Kingsley himself seemed in a jolly mood as you checked him over for the final time. 

“It has been very nice to get to know you better, but I have been laying in bed too long. And I wouldn’t mind a bit of payback,” he said as you jotted down the results of the diagnostic spells.

He wasn't quite as good as he had been before the attack, but he was improving. His magic worked just the same.  As far as you could tell there had been no complications of your blood mixing with his. The logical part of you knew there wouldn't be any. But years of Mudblood being mumbled from people passing you in the halls was difficult to forget. 

“Take it slow for a couple days though, okay? And don’t skip any meals and drink lots of water. If you feel even the least bit unwell or out of sorts, come straight back.”

“I’ll take care of myself. Maybe not as well as you have but," he smiled out at the ocean beyond the window as it crashed into the beach, “I have made it this far in life mostly by myself.”

The words made your heart hurt. Alastor had made it further in life, survived terrible things, yet he was gone now. Dumbledore was too. It had only taken one moment in the wrong place at the wrong time for even the most powerful and experienced wizards to be nothing but corpses. “Still, avoid the revenge plots for a week or two. Or three.”

He made no agreement to that.

The final hours of Kingsley's stay at Shell Cottage ticked by at an odd pace. There were moments that seemed to rush by as you helped him pack away what he would need. A tent Bill had pulled out of somewhere. Some defense items from Fred and George. Food. Other moments would linger unendingly. When you were alone with your thoughts and worries as Kingsley napped. Standing beneath the stream of water as every terrible thought ran through your mind. 

He could change his mind. He could have only agreed to buy himself time to let you down easier. Worse, he could have been serious. He could actually have been serious about it, but not because he wanted you. “Well not you specifically! Just the fact that you’re, you know, a person who isn’t related and, um, of the right age…”

If Bill hadn't been inflicted with his cursed wounds he would have never spared you a second glance. You weren't ugly, not by any means, but you were no Fleur. Men did not struggle to speak comprehensively in your presence. Women did not envy your very existence. You were simple. Ordinary. Pretty, but not stunning. And Bill was…extraordinary. Even with—especially with—his scars. If he had more choices, you couldn't delude yourself into believing you would make the cut. 

Those thoughts haunted you until Bill strolled in with a wide grin just before the clock read six. Kingsley was standing beside you in the kitchen watching you plate out hearty servings of shepherd’s pie. Bill's smile didn't disappear when he took in the scene, but it tightened and no longer met his eyes. 

Dinner was nothing like breakfast. Bill's gaze was searing as he sat beside you. You could feel him shift during every interaction between you and the Auror. It was like you were under observation and he did not like what he was seeing. Not that Kingsley seemed to take notice. He smiled and laughed like he was at the Burrow again, regaling a crowd of eager listeners with well practiced tales of grandiose adventure. You tried your best to follow along, but Bill was less willing to let you do so. 

At some point after the food had been finished, he’d slung an arm across the back of your chair and let his legs spread wide. Focusing on anything other than the fingers that occasionally grazed your arm or the thigh that rested lightly against yours was nearly impossible. By time the clock struck eight and Kingsley pulled his pack of supplies across his shoulder you were surprised to find yourself able to stand. 

"Take care of yourself," Kingsley said as he embraced you tightly at the door. "I am sure I shall see you again very soon." 

"Not too soon. And less bloody, please."

"I will do my best."

Bill's ears had turned a rather deep shade of crimson when Kingsley pulled away from you. You stayed behind in the kitchen to clean the last of the dishes as Bill walked him out.

The water stung as you scrubbed. Magic could have taken care of these in half the time, but the distraction was good. If you focused too much on what would happen next you were sure you would combust. Unfortunately, you ran out of dishes before you heard the pop expected of Disapparition. It made you wonder if they'd gotten lost in conversation over some Order business and if Bill had forgotten all about you. Or perhaps he was just trying to delay the time before he had to face you alone.

You shut off the water, grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands, and turned wondering if you should check in only to have your heart try to leap up your throat at the figure standing in the open doorway.

 "For Helga's sake," you huffed, hand over your chest. "I didn't hear you come in."

"He's gone," Bill said. 

"Good." You fidgeted with the towel. "We can talk."

"Talk," he said softly. The door shut loudly as he left its frame, stalking towards you. It wasn't until your back met the counter that you realized you'd been stepping back.  "I'll be bloody honest with you.” His arms were on either side to cage you in an instant. “I've spent the last twenty blasted hours thinking about how your cunt will feel wrapped around my cock—” 

The towel slipped from your hands.

“—and I don't think I'll be very intelligible until I've found out. So unless you've changed your mind, we can talk tomorrow." 

Helga help you.

He leaned in. "Have you changed your mind?"

You shook your head.

"Words, love. Use your words."

"No, sir." The words came out so low, you weren't sure they could be heard.

His forehead came to rest against yours as his eyes clenched shut. "You're going to be the death of me."

"That's sorta the opposite of what I'm trying to do," you breathed in barely more than a whisper.

His hands were on your waist, pulling himself closer. They moved slowly down your hips and back up your waist. "Is it?"

A “mmphmm” was your only response as he cupped your face. 

“Then I suppose I should kiss you before I die of curiosity.”

His lips caught yours and the world shifted. There was no air in your lungs. No beating in your heart. Nothing but his lips against yours. You had never been kissed before. Not like that. Whatever it was that you had done before couldn't even be considered anything like this. 

The moment shattered when he pulled away. A deep breath in. An almost painful hammering against your chest.

A whispered, "I'm fucked," was the last thing he said before he came crashing back. 

The calluses on his palm were rough against skin as they slid under your shirt and his tongue slipped past your lips when the feel made you gasp. It wasn't like the awkward fumblings and hesitant touches you'd experienced with Cillian, both of you still figuring it out quietly in your childhood bedroom. Bill's hands were sure of themselves as they pushed under your bra and rolled his thumbs over your nipples.

"I can already smell you." The palm of a hand flattened against your stomach and slid under the band of your pants and knickers. "Bloody hell," he said, a long finger gliding along the slick folds before plunging in, "I can just slip right in, can't I?"

You grabbed a hold of his shoulder, knees shaking beneath you. "Don't tease me," you groaned, clenching as the finger withdrew.

"This isn't teasing," he grinned, pushing it back in with a second as you squirmed. "I'll show you what teasing really is another day when I'm feeling a little more patient."

Your head fell back as his fingers worked within you like they were magic themselves. Your own had never felt this good. Nothing had ever felt this good. 

A surprised squeak escaped as his fingers retreated and you were suddenly lifted in the air and slung over his shoulders like you weighed nothing. 

“Sorry,” he said, sounding unapologetic. The soft cushions of the couch met your back as he set you down. Your jeans were undone and pulled off your legs a breath later followed by your knickers.

Instinctively, your legs tried to clamp shut to shield yourself from the hungry gaze. But Bill was faster and stronger and pried them apart. “Don’t hide from me.” The tone was stern and your legs relaxed. The blue of his eyes had darkened like the sky before a storm as he kneeled between them. His hands traveled along your thighs, over your hips, pushing the hem of your shirt up. "Take this off." It was barely over your head before he reached between you and the couch and unhooked your bra with an ease even you couldn't have accomplished.

You were hesitant to shed the last layer as the earlier worries filled your head, folding your arms to prevent the straps from falling down your arms. The dread that he'd find you as ordinary as you were pooled in your stomach.

"Why are you hiding from me?" The gentleness of his question was a stark contrast to his earlier demands. 

"I—" What could you tell him? You were scared he'd stop finding you attractive the moment he looked at your body? No. You stared at him. He was still kneeling between your spread legs. Fully clothed. "It's weird being the only one naked."

The smug satisfaction that took over his face made you wish the couch would swallow you. 

He bent forward and pressed a kiss against the your inner thigh. "Is it?" The words reverberated off your skin before he moved to the other side to repeat the kiss. "I don't recall you having a problem with it when you were the one asking me to take off my shirt for you.”

You’d only ever had him remove his shirt when you were conducting a physical. “That wa—”

“Different?” he interjected mockingly, hands finding the crease of your hips. “Why? Because you were the one in charge then?”

“I wasn’t—it was—" His grip made thoughts hard to articulate. The worries of earlier forgotten in the haze of his fingers dragging across skin. "It was a very different situation.”

His touch disappeared and the couch shifted as he straightened. "I suppose it was." You were entranced watching his fingers as he undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing a scene you'd already witnessed but never truly appreciated when the shirt was tossed to the floor. He'd gained weight since that day he'd been brought into the Hospital Wing. Slender still, but with muscles more defined. The scars were much the same having never properly healed, though they seemed to have been pulled taut across his frame.

"Because I had to sit in that bed in that room alone with you," he continued, deft fingers now working at undoing his pants, "and undress for you," he pushed them down, shifting awkwardly to pull them off his feet behind him, "and I couldn't tell you how much I wanted to fuck you."

He was left only in boxers strained nearly beyond their limits. You'd thought it had felt big, but…fuck. 

“You're drooling, love."

Your hands shot up, wiping at your mouth and allowing the bra you'd been clutching to fall away. 

It was impossible to miss the way the fabric tightened as his cock twitched. "Well ain't that a fuckin' sight." 

Then he was over you again, caging your body between his and the couch, claiming your lips. You could feel his cock pressing against you, the fabric growing damp as he ground down. The sensations were enough to get lost in as his hands began to roam. A stuttering gasp escaped as his clothed cock rubbed against your clit when his hips bucked. His lips trailed kisses to your ear as he did it again, your nails digging into his back with a whimper. 

"Gods, don't you sound desperate?" he hummed against your ear, smiling against it as his hips pulled another whimper from you. "These little noises are why I couldn't fuck you yesterday. Wanted them to be for my ears only."

Cocky fucking Gryffindor.

“Are you even going to fuck me today?” 

A dark chuckle sent vibrations through you as most of his body stilled. “If I knew you were gonna be such a brat,” one of his hands reached down and tugged his waistband, “I’d have put your mouth to better use.”

An audible smack came when his cock was freed and fell against your mound. A shiver of excitement coursed through you as he nuzzled into your neck. His hips moved back, dragging the head down over your clit and between your weeping lips. He held it there for what must have been an eternity before you whined, “Bill.”

Your hips tried to push upwards, but his hand moved to hold you firmly in place. “Yes, love?”

“Please.”

"Please what?"

Your fingers slipped through the strands of his hair and tugged until he lifted his face. "Fuck me, please."

His gaze threatened to drown you as he finally gave in to the plea and eased his cock into your eager folds. He moved slowly, your body arching with the welcome intrusion. A raspy groan of satisfaction escaped as he filled you. Your eyes fluttered at the almost painful stretch he caused.

“Gods.” He groaned, pulling out all but the tip. “Even better than I imagined.” The force of his return jolted your body, your hands gripping his biceps to brace for the next impact as his cock retreated again. "So much fucking better."

Your soft sounds of before turned high and sharp as his thrusts wrecked you. One hand held your hip and the other held his body as he leaned forward to swallow the sounds in a fevered kiss. The feeling was all consuming, each stroke a wave of pleasure that shook the ground.  It was like nothing with…

Bill drew back, his eyes following the path of his hand as it traced down your face and neck to sweep over your breasts. He continued lower until it joined his other. His mouth parted as his gaze turned to admiring how his cock sunk into you. It was a beautifully vulgar sight.

Your own admiration was rewarded with a hiss as you clenched around him. Emboldened, you did it again. The steady pace he had set faltered. 

Sharp blue eyes cut to yours, unamused. “Brat.” 

A pleased grin broke across your face and you clenched again. Rough pressure against your clit wiped it off your face a second later.

“That’s more like it,” he said as his thumb drew tight circles around the bundle of nerves. 

He found his rhythm once more despite your involuntary hold on his cock his minstraitions caused. Your hands gripped the couch as the pleasure began to roll over you in waves. "Bill," you quivered, "I think I'm—I think—"

"No need to think, love." His thrusts quickened. "Just cum on my cock for me, yeah?"

Your body willingly obliged, arching breathlessly as you were finally dragged under.

Bill cursed, his even pace once more interrupted as he felt you convulse around him. His hips continued to slam haphazardly into yours as the air returned to your lungs. Your back had barely met the couch again before you were lifted again. The haze of your orgasam left you dizzy and clinging to Bill as he moved, only realizing he had arranged himself into a seated position when he pulled you down on his cock. 

The sensations were overwhelming, his size emphasized by the position. Your mouth opened to tell him it was too much, but the words were abandoned with another kiss. His release followed a moment later with his warmth coating your cunt.

The kiss broke. You sat there, foreheads pressed together and chests heaving, for a while. 

“You okay?” His voice was hoarse. 

“Yeah.” You pulled away, remembering his condition that had led to this. “And you? How are you feeling?”

“Uhh uhh,” he chastised, “no Healer questions when you’ve got my cum leaking out of you.”

He chuckled as you slapped his shoulder. “Fine.” With reluctance, you lifted off of him and grimaced at the feeling. “Then I’m going to shower and when I come back you’re going to answer.”

—

For the second time that day, you stood under the blistering downpour and wondered if you’d made a mistake.

The ghost of his touch still lingered as you scrubbed, taunting. Every inch of skin tingled in anticipation for more. Cause gods, who wouldn’t want more?

Despite the full meal he’d eaten earlier, Bill’s appetite seemed to have returned with a vengeance. When you returned showered he was sitting at the table in only his boxers with the remaining half of the shepherd’s pie and wand discarded beside it. "Are you hungry?" he asked, offering you his spoon as you sat across from him. You shook your head and declined with a small wave. You watched him scoop a spoonful into his mouth. He looked glowing, almost. Relaxed in a way you'd never witnessed. 

No, that wasn't quite right. You had seen him this serene once. Laying half mutilated in a hospital bed, laughing with his sibling before he'd heard of Fleur's horrified departure. 

The sleeve of your sweater became very interesting as you began to pick at it. "So how are you feeling?"

He took his time chewing, putting the spoon down and threading his fingers together to rest his chin against. "Like I just got shagged."

You huffed.

"It's a bloody great feeling, innit? Especially remembering your face when I—"

"Bill, I'm serious." You looked up at him wearing a mask you'd perfected during the years in the Hospital Wing. "There's no point in us…shagging if it's not alleviating your symptoms."

His face dropped. “I thought you enjoyed it.” 

The hurt in his voice made you flounder. “Of course I enjoyed it. It was—fuck it was great.” You rubbed at your forehead. “But I’m your Healer. My main priority is your health. And if this is not benefiting it, then we need to start looking into other options.”

He glared, accusingly. “Other options like you leaving?”

“If you can’t tell me how you’re feeling, maybe.”

You winced watching his body tense. It felt too familiar. A scene that had been played out before.

His hands fell to the table as he leaned back in his chair. “I don’t smell him as much. His scent is still here, lingering, but it doesn't bother me. I feel—or felt—content."

"Is it because he's gone?"

His head shook.

Outside the window, the waxing moon stood proudly over the ocean. "We'll see how you feel tomorrow and run a full diagnostic. Figure out how we’ll deal with the full moon.”

The chair scraped against the floor as he stood. “Right, tomorrow then.” With a wave of his wand, the food and utensil flew back to the kitchen into their proper places. “I’m gonna head off to bed.”

“Goodnight.” You said nothing more as he climbed the stairs.

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[moonspirit]

You are loved, by all standard definitions of the word.

You are cared for, by the people around you. They tell you you're great, they tell you they're glad you exist, they tell you you're valuable and priceless and the world is a better place because you're here. They tell you that you do things in a way others cannot, they tell you how amazing you are.

You have had an ordinary childhood. Things didn't go too wrong; you had friends, though few, but you made good memories. You grew, you played, you laughed, you cried. An ordinary childhood, like every other kid your age. Some things did hurt you, some people did leave you, but all of that was so long ago and the memories are blurry now; surely, they don't hurt you anymore.

The people around you, they love you.

And yet - you hate yourself.

Everything about yourself is awful, like a monster but not even a normal monster; a crippled, twisted, ugly monster incapable of even functioning the way it should. Everything is a task, until you cry and claw your way through it to an extent where you can see nothing but faults in it - about how you've messed it up and how much you suck. You see those stares, and in some cases, no stares, and you wonder if you're really so bad. You spend nights curled up in bed, hugging your knees, wondering why you are the way you are, why you can't just square your shoulders, hold your head proud, and live. But the shame has been so strong since that very normal childhood, that not even your friends' compliments and reassurances are any source of comfort.

You know what you're good at, but you can never bask in the pride. You know what your strengths are, but you feel too weak to show them. You know you are valuable, just a bit, but you can't see an inch of it, and you want to withdraw and crawl into your shell until your soul turns invisible.

You are subpar, too incapable, not good enough, never good enough, the world will be a better place without you, your friends will be happier without you, and there they are, waving their hands at you and calling you over with big smiles and genuine love, but they can't love you, they don't love you, why would they? There's not one good reason they should love you - or so you can't help but believe.

You are not worthless, you know this, but there's a void in your heart that won't let you believe.

Where does this ugliness in your soul come from? Why won't it leave you alone?

Why the fuck won't it leave you alone?

Perhaps this is how Armin felt before he was brought back to life by the people who loved him.

[muddy-water-1997]

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞�� 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. - 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚂𝚊𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚎𝚛

𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 - 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 & 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 - 1.2𝚔 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚃𝚆: 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙

Opening your eyes, you're assaulted by the harsh light slicing through the blinds, diffused by the overcast sky. It’s as if some cruel, cosmic force is mocking you, taunting you with a reminder that even in your darkest days, there's an inescapable brightness. You roll over in bed, your hand instinctively reaching for him. Instead, you find only emptiness—another wretched morning of waking up alone. Once a haven of warmth and love, the bed now feels like a barren tundra, an icy void that amplifies your solitude. You clutch the duvet to your chin, a feeble attempt to stem the tide of tears threatening to spill over.

You ache for him—the sound of his laughter, a melody that used to coax you from your slumber gently. The ghost of his soft kisses on your forehead when he would slip out to the studio before dawn. The lingering trace of his cologne, a comforting presence that would greet you even hours after he had gone.

Now, everything feels sterile, devoid of life. The room is too clean, too quiet, a hollow shell of what it used to be. The silence is deafening, a constant reminder of what you’ve lost. The absence of his presence is a wound that refuses to heal, a gaping chasm where your heart used to be, echoing with the emptiness of his absence.

Four long, excruciating months had crawled by since Chris left. The stupid argument before he went on the tour had spiralled into a chasm of silence, your phone a graveyard of unsent messages and missed connections. Each day was a relentless barrage of reminders, every advert on the street a cruel taunt, every jingle on the radio a screeching indictment of your failure. You were haunted by his absence, tormented by the spectre of what could have been if you hadn’t let anger and pride tear you apart. Each reminder felt like a fresh wound, a searing testament to how badly you had fucked up.

Memories of the argument surged through your mind, each as agonising as the day it happened. Your insecurities had consumed you in that moment, warping your thoughts and poisoning your words. You were convinced that Chris didn't want to be tied down when he left, even if he hadn't realised it yet. The beautiful women he would be surrounded by for six months, the glamorous parties he'd attend, the STAYs screaming his name every night—how could you compete with that? Why would he need someone like you waiting at home, burdened with doubts and fears? The conviction that you were just an anchor, dragging him down, had driven you to push him away, a self-fulfilling prophecy that shattered your world.

Rolling back over to your side of the bed, you pick up your phone. No new messages. What were you expecting? Chris to just reach out like nothing happened after all this time? You knew he was performing locally this week, and a flicker of hope sparked within you—a tiny, fragile reassurance that maybe he’d been too busy to reach out. Maybe he still loved you, and together, you could work through the pain of the last few months. But as quickly as that hope emerged, it was smothered by the harsh voice of reality. You scoff at yourself, bitter and self-deprecating. You’d already fucked everything up beyond repair. The silence on your phone was a testament to that, a cruel reminder of your mistakes and the distance they’d carved between you and the one person you couldn't stop loving.

Sure, you could message him first. Apologise again for everything you said, for the thousandth time, only to be met with ice-cold responses or one-word replies, hollow reassurances that you would talk it through when he returned home after the tour. It was a waiting game, a slow, torturous countdown until he came back to end it with you officially. The thought alone sent you spiralling into despair, tears streaming down your cheeks and soaking into your pillow as you sobbed over the love you’d lost. You closed your eyes, a desperate wish flickering in your heart—to never have to endure the pain of opening them again. The weight of the impending heartbreak was unbearable; each moment without him was a fresh stab of agony, reminding you of the irrevocable damage you had caused.

You were unsure how long your eyes had been closed, but it wasn't long enough to escape the nightmare your life had become. The sudden shift of weight at the end of the bed and the waft of that familiar cologne began to pull you from the darkness. Warm, musky notes filled your lungs, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. For a moment, you wondered if you had died and found your way to a happier place where your heartache couldn't reach you. Slowly, you opened your eyes, the scent stirring memories and emotions you thought you had buried.

"Oh, princess, look at you..." Chris' voice was low and full of concern as he looked over your fragile, tear-stained form, curled up with one of his shirts in the bed.

"Chris?" you croaked, your voice husky and dry from crying. You could barely make out his image through your blurry eyes.

"Have you even left the bed since I went?" he asked softly, moving to lie beside you, pulling you into his arms.

The warmth of his embrace was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the cold, empty bed you had known for so long. You clung to him, sobbing into his chest, his familiar scent grounding you in a moment that felt almost unreal.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, your words muffled against his shirt. "I thought I'd lost you."

"I’ve been so busy, and you were so upset when I left. I thought that if I gave you some space, you would think everything through and not end things with me. It's been hell not having you around," Chris said softly, soothing your hair as you cried, clutching him tightly.

"I thought you were being distant because you wanted to break up with me," you confessed, your voice muffled against his chest. "I was so mean, I tried to push you away before you left to protect my own heart." You explained yourself, clinging to him as if he would disappear any moment, afraid that this was all just a fleeting dream.

Chris sighed, his embrace tightening around you. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I never wanted to be distant. I just didn't know how to make things right from so far away," he murmured, his voice laced with regret. "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll work through this, I promise."

You buried your face deeper into his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat reassuring you that this moment was real. The weight of the past months' pain and misunderstanding began to lift, replaced by a fragile but growing hope. In his arms, you found a sense of peace, a belief that together, you could heal the wounds and rebuild what had been broken.

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌!  𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀? 𝖲𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗄!

[vivalarevolution]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓮𝓯'𝓼 𝓓𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓽.𝓘𝓘

Jake Sully x Metkayina Reader x Neytiri

A/N: Noticing how many people liked The Chief’s Daughter and seeing more and more asks about a continuation, I decided to make a second part. 

I hope this story will get as much love and attention as the previous one and all of you will enjoy reading it.

Also remember that english is not a language that I use on a daily basis, mistakes may occur. The work contains parts with smut , minors do not interact.

Part 1

She felt so safe. Lying in her beloved's arms, she breathed calmly, rubbing the shells adorning Neytiri's wrist between her fingers. The woman lay on the other side of the man's chest, who held them both close to his body, but it didn't stop her from reaching her other mate.

Despite the relaxation adorning her beautiful face, Y/n was emotionally unbalanced inside, fighting thoughts she was sure she had gotten rid of hours ago.

-I have to go back - she whispered suddenly, looking down.

-You don't have to, my sweet girl - the woman said immediately, joining their hands together - You are our mate, you should stay with us.

-Even if I agree with Neytiri, I know that Y/n is right. We have to let her go - Jake remarked, stroking both women's backs - It's not the right time, not yet.

The girl got up slowly. Looking apologetically at the dark-haired na'vi, she rubbed her cheek as an act of comfort, kissing her sof lips goodbye.

-I'm sorry - she added softly in her direction, repeating what she had done with the man before she got up, leaving both of them alone.

Her steps were slow, almost arduous.

She was lost in the depths of her own mind, wondering why she was doing this to herself, why was she hurting herself instead of soothing her soul and confessing the truth? But with each such question, the brutal truth hit her.

Neytiri and Jake were outsiders, they weren't from here. One wrong decision could've make them disappear from her life, leaving an unbearable void behind.

She would rather suffer in silence than rip her heart out.

-You've been gone for a long time - she heard from her mother at the beginning, when her leg crossed the threshold of her house.

Y/n shifted her gaze to her, but quickly turned her head in the opposite direction, walking to the fabric basket, not even knowing why, but needing something to occupy her hands.

-I had to think - she said, her eyes focusing on one point - Had to be alone.

Ronal turned her blue irises on the eldest of her children, but since her back was turned to her, she couldn't make out much. After a moment, she sighed.

-I understand why you reacted this way - she began cautiously, but it quickly changed into a firm, maternal tone - But the sooner you realize the seriousness of your position, the better - she added, and her daughter tensed at these words.

-I didn't ask for it - she said apathetically - I've done everything you asked me to. I tried so hard, but it will never be enough fo you or father - she noticed with a trace of anger in her voice.

-Y/n, the role of Tsahìk... - her mother began, but the girl quickly stopped her with a single glance.

-I don't want to talk about it, not now - she announced - I'm too tired -she added, getting up from her knees and moving to her part of Marui to avoid another possible argument.

-There's one more thing - she said, stopping her.

The dark-haired girl turned to look expectantly at Ronal, who scanned her carefully before stopping at her eyes, which were almost identical to hers.

-What is it mother? - she asked calmly, not wanting to reveal where she was or what she was doing.

-You spend a surprising amount of time with the Sullys - she observed - I don't trust them.

-We are to teach them our ways. I have to spend time with them to achieve this goal. Besides, you don't know them, you can't make false accusations just becuse it's hard for you to accept them - the young woman said in defense of her secret lovers.

-And you know them? - she asked immediately.

More than you know, Y/n wanted to say but she had to bite her tongue. Dropping her head, she let those words be the last she heard that day, feeling helplessness take over her body.

And she allowed it.

Water had always been something soothing to her, something that brought a smile to her face. No matter that she spent her whole life in it, it was still an endless source of peace for her. But know, know nothing was able to soothe her mind and soul.

-You seem distracted - Jake remarked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

- I'm not - she said immediately, looking back at the man and the animal he was currently on - It's just the solace of water - she explained.

-Are you sure baby girl? - he asked, running his thumb over her knuckles.

-I'm sure - she confirmed, joining their hands together - Don't worry about me, there's no need.

-You're part of me - he said seriously, and she widened her eyes in surprise - I'll always be worried.

Y/n knew Jake's nature, but as those words fell out of his mouth, she couldn't help but let the urge for comfort into her body take over her, calling out to the man in front of her louder with each passing second. But she pushed the urge away bitterly, shutting her feelings back inside, away from the outside world.

-The muscles in your legs are too tight and your arms are too limp - she said after a long time, changing the conversation.

As expected, the man respected her decision, but she knew that once they were away from the unwelcome stares of people around, he would not let go so easily, if at all.

-I'm not used to this - he replied, trying to adjust his posture.

-You were a mighty Toruk Makto - girl noticed - You must have had strength in your body that was able to control such a great creature.

-I was young back then - he said, looking at her composed face.

-And probably less knowledgeable - she announced aptly - Now you are wiser, more experienced - she added, but Jake did not look convinced, despite the passage of so many years he was still learning -Imagine me in the place of a skimwing -she commanded suddenly.

She knew those words caught his attention immediately, judging by the movement of his ears and the way his tail twitched again and again.

-What do you mean? - he asked in a low, slightly hoarse voice that instantly changed the atmosphere around them.

-The way you make love to me - she began, running her hands along her chest - When you hold my hips, taking control of my movements, when you hold me down and your strong legs control the speed and power of your thrusts, how your loins cooperate with the movements of my pelvis - she announced ,touching individual parts of both bodies with her fingertips, trying to create an projection in his head.

Lesson was long forgotten. Jake couldn't get the images out of his head, and Y/n found out when one of his muscular hands lifted her up to jump on the creature he was currently sitting on.

The girl couldn't stop her body from reacting. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her legs clenched involuntarily.

Before the man could have do anything, Y/n jumped away from him as if she burned herself, falling gracefully back into the crystal water. In response, he gave her a questioning look, but the young woman only shook her head slightly.

-I see you, father - she said.

-I see you my daughter - he replied, swimming up to them - What are you doing with Jake Sully? - he asked, looking from the man to the girl.

-I teach - she replied, completely ignoring the avatar near them - He wanted me to help him.

Y/n was a great liar. Changing her tone of voice or facial expression in an instant. Her current attitude was almost identical to his wife's when they first met.

-Your daughter is very talented - Jake interjected, causing both the chief's daughter and the chief himself to turn their heads in his direction.

-Hmm - Tonowari muttered with a slight smile on his face - You can go back my daughter. I'll take it from here - he added.

-Of course, father - she said, stealing one last glance at the yellow-eyed man before disappearing into the water, returning to the shore.

It was close, too close. Closing her eyes, she sighed before moving forward, aimlessly. Involuntarily looking back a few more times, the feeling of Jake's hand still lingered on her turquoise skin, not letting her forget it.

Her legs unconsciously carried her to one of the few places where she could truly breathe, even if it was only for a moment.

Neytiri was alone as always. Stubbornly sticking to her traditions, not allowing anything related to the Metkayin clan near her, spending most of her days in her new home.

Seeing her, Y/n smiled tenderly.

-My Neytiri - she said at the beginning, and the woman in question turned in the direction from which the voice came.

-My sweet girl - she replied, extending her hand towards her.

The chief's daughter grabbed her hand without hesitation, finding her place in the warm arms of her beloved. Her mind immediately calmed down and her heart began to beat slower.

-You feel like home, Tiri - girl whispered after a while, closing her eyes.

She could've spent days in this position, and Neytiri's addictive aura made it harder to deny that statement.

- I'm your home sweet girl, me and my Jake - she replied stroking her long, black locks - You can always come to us, because with us is your place - she added, kissing her forehead tenderly.

-This means a lot to me my Tiri - she whispered, rubbing her face against her cheek.

The woman returned the gesture, rubbing against her now, purring softly.

Touches of their hands were not burning or electrifying, they were more soothing, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation on the patches of touched skin. Shortly after their lips also took part in this intimate dance. Both Y/n and Neytiri couldn't stop smiling, giggling softly again and again as their lips parted only to rejoin again in the next second.

-I see you, my Y/n, all of you - the dark-haired woman whispered into her mouth, grabbing her face in her hands.

-I see you, my Neytiri - replied the chief's daughter, joining their foreheads together.

Both women drowned in each other. The world around seemed to cease to exist and only the feeling of piercing eyes staring at both of them made Y/n break away from her mate's full lips, looking around paranoidly.

-It's just me baby girl- Jake muttered, walking slowly towards them.

The man took Y/n's jaw in his large hand, rubbing his thumb gently against the skin on her cheek.

-My Jake - she whispered.

-Go on - he demanded, shifting her head so that her blue irises were focused on Neytiri again.

Girl returned to her mouth, tasting them longingly. When one of the woman's hands slid down to Y/n's hip trying to pull her closer, the girl clung to her body without resist, suddenly moaning loudly. In the corner of her eye, she could see how their mate connects three kurus belonging to both women and himself. Despite the lack of any interaction with him, he still had control over their movements, watching them like a predator watched its prey.

Without moving even an inch, the chief's daughter's lips traveled down Neytiri's body, finding their place between her firm thighs. Feeling the need to please her beloved, she immediately clung to her femininity. Her delicate tongue attacked her folds and a small button that made the woman's throat emit loud sounds of pleasure. This act unconsciously filled her with lust, which was evident on the fabric of her loincloth.

Jake didn't take his eyes off both women even for a moment, but as his nostrils filled with the sweet smell of Y/n's arousal, he growled low and, unable to control himself, he tore off her lower garment, reveling  the sight of her dripping womanhood that trembled, inviting him. And when she moaned in response, pushing her hips straight into his face, it was the final straw for him. Grabbing her tight around the waist, he pulled her to his crotch.

-You're always so needy, aren't you babygirl? - he growled, massaging her bum - It's good that I'm so addicted to you. Maybe if I put the baby inside you, you'll calm down a bit, yeah?

She hadn't expected those words to have such an effect on her, but oh they did. Before she could’ve let common sense in, her mouth opened on its own command.

-Yes please ,daddy. I want it so much! - she whimpered, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

Wild, primitive, possessive. It all flooded Sully's mind with such force that his body became working on its own accord.

His member entered her in one brutal motion, filling her to the brim, not even allowing her walls to stretch before he began to pound inside her hard and deep, kissing her cervix.

-Don't forget about mommy, because I won't give you what you want, understood? - he murmured, slapping her firm buttock, which jiggled under the impact of the blow.

-Yes, yes daddy - she gasped, returning to Neytiri's womanhood despite being overwhelmed, licking her labia lazily, but finding it harder and harder to concentrate as Jake used her tight, wet canal in such a rough way.

-You're doing so well , my sweet girl - the woman praised her, stroking her head.

She took these praises very willingly, trying to do even better, but the sounds that left her mouth made it difficult for her, because she kept fighting to let out a scream, replacing it with a loud moan, breaking away from Tiri womanhood again and again.

She tried to calm herself, breathing heavily and closing her eyes.

-What did I say? - the man growled, tugging at her tail.

She squealed at the feeling of pleasure mixed with pain as she went back to satisfying her lover who was as close as she was. Holding her close, Neytiri closed her golden eyes, feeling sudden waves of heat flooding her belly, pleasure filling her body from the top of her head to her fingertips.

Y/n, pleased, licked na’vi sensitive folds gently, collecting the juices that her mate left.

-Good girl - murmured the man behind her - Now you will help daddy, I know you will. Atta girl - he said, holding her hips in a firm grip - I need to feel you come on my cock. I need to feel these walls squeezing me tightly.

-Please...more daddy -she whimpered, trying to match his movements.

-More? - he asked her, grabbing her waist and lifting her body up so that her back brushed against his torso, his member now entering so deep the young woman was convinced it was in her throat - You're a desperate little creature, you know that? Don't worry, I'll give you so much pleasure that you'll be drunk with this feeling and unable to walk for weeks.

Those dirty promises made Y/n come with a silent scream, moaning softly as she felt the heat flood her insides again and again. Jake's seed started to pouring out of her, causing her to tremble at the feeling.

Her lovers brushed their lips over her exhausted body, meeting from time to time in a lazy kiss. Post sex bliss starstrucked them so much , that no one was caring about the world around them.

Something was wrong.

An unknown tension was hanging in the air, making her breathing heavier and her movements slower. And when she got to her home, she knew exactly why.

Her parents were waiting for her, their eyes fixed on her the minute she appeared inside. Scanning her body thoroughly. They made her want to hide in herself, she never felt so exposed.

-Is this true? - her father asked.

-What are you talking about, father? - she asked, not moving from her place.

-Jake Sully and his wife - her mother interjected, trying to keep her anger under control - Is this true, Y/n?

The girl clenched her jaw, trying to control her emotions. She couldn't seem weak, she had to hold her ground, especially now that her secret had been exposed.

-We were mated before Eywa - she replied - It is done.

After saying these words, she thought her mother would murder her with her own hands, she had never seen so much fury in a woman's eyes, so much disappointment.

Her father got up from his seat, approaching her slowly.

-You disappointed me daughter - he said coldly, looking into her eyes.

Y/n stared into his eyes stubbornly and with bitterness in blue irises.

-It's not a surprise, is it? - she asked grimly - In your eyes, I'll never be enough, and I've accepted that.

A shadow of pain appeared in Tonowari's eyes. No matter what Y/N would do, it was still his child. Hearing sadness and surrender in her voice, touched him more than he would like to admit.

-I don't want to see you with them - her mother said suddenly, standing next to her husband.

Y/n didn't budge this time either.

-We are one and will remain one, mother - she declared firmly, emphasizing every word.

-They're not our people Y/n. They are strangers! - announced her mother - They carry the specter of war with them, they are dangerous.

-They fought for their people, and now they are paying for it with their lives, the lives of their children. They don't deserve such a judgment - she barked angrily, her ears twitched and her tail went right and left - You don't know them as I know them. To you, sky people only bring destruction, but it was Jake, the sky person, who brought destruction upon humans. But you can't see past his origin.

-That's enough - Tonowari said, stepping between the two women.

Y/n hissed in annoyance before leaving the home. She had to calm down, but the problem was that stepping out of the marui was enough to fill her eyes with a sea of tears, which she let flow.

She didn't know where to go, she wasn't sure what to do with herself. She only knew that she didn't want to be alone, everything that happened was too much for her.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings, stopping at a familiar place. Thinking hard about her decision, she slowly moved forward.

You can always come to us, because with us is your place

Neytiri's words echoed in her ears, she shouldn't be afraid, she shouldn't be ashamed. But once inside, she avoided eye contact as if it would set her on fire.

Within seconds, Jake's hand found its place on her smaller body, and when his eyes saw the tears decorating her face, he was ready to murder anyone who dared to bring her to such a state. Neytiri did not hide that she shared her husband's thoughts. Her face reflected exactly what she was feeling.

-You said I could come - she whispered brokenly to the woman.

-Oh my sweet - she said worriedly, stroking her wet cheek.

In a moment of weakness, she couldn't even care about four pairs of eyes watching her as well as the two na'vi standing in front of her. All she needed right now was the warmth that came from her mates.

-Come on, baby girl - the man murmured, leading her to a more secluded spot in their hut.

Y/n allowed herself to be guided, though being here so many times was merely renewing old paths.

Sitting down on the edge of the marui, she let her legs dangle and her toes lightly brushed the water beneath her. She looked pensive, but Sully knew that her pensiveness was no good, because she liked to have a tendency to let the dark thoughts in.

A few minutes passed before the young woman finally spoke up.

-They know - she said.

-It's nothing wrong - he said - We'll get through this...together.

-I just don't understand what's happening - she confessed tiredly -Why it's...why it's all falling apart and why I can't fix it.

-You can't make everything right - he stated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear - You don't have that kind of power. You take on more than you can handle.

- I don't want to be a disappointment - she whispered - I don't want to disappoint anyone, and now? Now I feel it. It’s…It’s just like this wave washing over me, again and again. It knocks me down, and when I try to stand up, it just comes for me again. And I…It’s just gonna drown me.

Jake pulled her close, hugging her body tightly as if he was trying to hide her from the world, and Y/n instantly clung to him, holding him tight, almost as if he was about to disappear.

And suddenly she felt safe again, at peace. She felt at home.