#but the buttons are on and it's painted a beautiful chocolate brown!!

[trashmuis]

i have to work tomorrow but im here just dancing to No One Lives Forever by Oingo Boingo (bc it's a damn good song) at fucking 2 am why god why am i like this

[bambiesfics]

Opposites Attract Theory - Ellie x Bimbo!reader

Ellie was everything you weren’t. She was a girl in brown plaid button ups, who could only find comfort in wearing her father’s oversized chocolate suede jacket.  She could hardly be described as sweet or adorable, not like you were. Ellie was reserved, masculine, angry, and traumatized. Ellie smoked cigarettes to keep her nerves at bay, cut chunks off of the ends of her hair when they got too long and feminine, spent all her money on tattoos if she wasn’t spending it on you, wore old men’s weathered leather shoes, painted her nails with the cheapest black polish just so they could chip on purpose, and tucked her strap into her pants because it just felt right. No more, no less.

All of those descriptions she’d agreed with, but just one word was missing. The word ‘provider.’ The aspect of her character that she prided herself on the most, was being your provider.

  You were her opposite, the light to her shadow. You were naive, sweet, bubbly. Your eyes were big and curious, and you asked every question earnestly. You bounced around in your cute little outfits. Low cut tops with your tits spilling out, dresses where the wind exposed the chub of your ass, and skirts so short they showed your plump little pussy, eating up your g-strings; outfits that made you easy prey for leering. You got your nails done, and showed them off by grabbing Ellie’s thick cock with both hands while sucking hard on her tip. You bent over to pick up dropped items because your acrylics made you clumsy, and squealed when your girlfriend smacked you square on your ass. You got little Brazilian waxes, and sent pictures with a smiley face saying “still a bit sensitive but do you think it looks pretty Els?” And you were shocked that she pounded you into the headboard later that day, until your vagina was puffy. You sat on Ellie’s lap when she beckoned you too, but never quite figured out that it was because she wanted you to feel her erection sandwiched between your ass. You pranced outside in thin little pink shirts that showed the outline of your plump nipples and areola, and started pouting when Ellie draped her jacket on you before she let you step out of her car. 

You pouted about how your girlfriend was “too overprotective” but you were a ditzy, trusting airhead, who had the IQ of a care bear. Ellie didn’t have a choice, you were too stupid for your own good. Too sugary and sweet, sissy and girly. 

  You needed a guy like Ellie to pick up extra shifts for you, so you could go on your little shopping sprees, to buy lip gloss and candy. You needed a guy like Ellie to come everywhere with you, so creepy fucks would know that the pretty little bimbo had a gaurd dog next to her who would snap, snarl and bite them. You needed a guy like Ellie to run her tongue around your little pink hole, twitching and hungry, just to prepare that tiny hole as a warm place for her cock to sink into right after. Her balls often found themselves smacking against the bottom of your puffy neglected clit. You needed a guy like Ellie to indulge your little airhead babble, your piss poor attempt at conversation or even saying a coherent sentence. God knows you could yap for hours and say nothing of note, nothing anyone would perceive as highbrow or thought-provoking, but Ellie loved it. Loved watching those plump pink lips smack together to talk about dumb little girl topics like  “love island” or how “your pinks don’t match” or “beauty guru drama.”

And Ellie loved to indulge that clingy, pouty, needy little attitude you had around her. She’d bounce you up and down her cock, to shush your sniffles after she snapped at you. She’d rubbed your back, and promise to get your nails done just so you’d get overwhelmed with joy and cry “Ellieeee” in her arms, she’d wipe your pouty tears off your cheeks when you couldn’t take her cock all the way down, and tell you that you’ll get so much better after lots n’ lots of practice, she’d let you baby her when she was sick, and pretend that your poorly made chicken soup was the cure for her illness, and not the fever medication she’d been knocking back for the past week, she’d indulge your repetitive airheaded questions like “Ellieee, why can’t we print more money?” and “Ellieee how do you know you can see me? What if you’re you’re just imagining me?,” and she’d let you curl up with her brown jacket at night, cause it smelled exactly like her and brought you comfort in those days she had too many back-to-back shifts and couldn’t stay with you. That jacket was her fathers, so for her to leave it with you, meant that she wanted to take care of you in a way he’d be proud of.

  You were Ellie’s dumb little bimbo doll. Her pink hole to use as a fleshlight, her set of plump lips to watch suction around her dick, her sugary little ditz.

But you were also Ellie’s future wife, the future mother of her kids. The woman who provided the the most gentle balance to Ellie’s rough edges and hard lines, the woman who was her emotion support, her pillar, the grounded rock that she’d cling to during her rapid river emotions. In turn Ellie would be your guard dog, your emotional support, your girlfriend, your boyfriend, your husband, your wife, your butch, your provider. She’d be whatever you needed. 

[sillyhanako]

꒰꒰🥞﹒BAKING COOKIES FOR MY LOVE I STIR AND MIX !﹕୨୧

꒰꒰﹒SYNOPSIS : A man-child of a customer visits the small local bakery that you owns. And every time he visits he orders the same order, plus his energetic nature he's starting to give you a headache. However, as his visits become a regular thing, you begin to find the man-child rather endearing. and the feeling is mutual .

꒰꒰﹒PARRING : pre-relationship umemiya x reader

꒰꒰﹒CONTAINS : two idiots in love, one of them in denial, sunshine x grumpy trope, sun x moon trope

꒰꒰﹒sfw // 2.4k wc

꒰꒰﹒notes : omg this took 3 long days to make 😭 kudos and reblogs are appreciated!! This is my first time making a oneshot 0-0 i hope its not too bad.. reminder: english is not my first language!!! And credits to

It was 8:12am . The sun was shining brightly, bathing the world in its warm embrace. The gentle breeze was cool and refreshing, providing a much-needed respite from the stifling summer heat. The trees stood tall and proud, gently swaying in the wind as the birds sang their sweet melodies. In the distance, children were on their way to school, chatting among themselves.

You were on your way to open your bakery, a small business you started last year in makochi, a chill town. It was enveloped in a sense of tranquility, the absence of cars making the air still and peaceful.The stillness of the town provided a refreshing change from the constant honking and traffic noise that filled your last location.

As you step into the bakery, the first thing that catches the eye is the warm brown and beige color palette that dominates the space. The walls are painted a soft beige, and large brown shelves are stacked with an array of freshly-baked breads and pastries. The floor is tiled in a soft brown and tan pattern, and the countertops are made of light brown wood.

Large potted fiddle leaf fig plants stand tall in each corner of the space, their deep green leaves providing a stark contrast to the light beige walls. Trailing ivy hangs from the shelves, its delicate leaves adding a sense of wildness to the otherwise cozy atmosphere. Smaller pots of succulents and cacti are scattered throughout the space, their prickly texture and bold shapes adding visual interest to the soft color palette.

After putting on your work uniform, which contains a tucked in white button up with a brown chest pocket, and then over that a brown waist apron, you started cleaning the counter of any dust, and shorty you brought out the chairs from the storage room, they're made of a sturdy wood, and are padded with soft beige cushions to make them more comfortable. The tables are a lighter wood, round in shape, and are surrounded by two padded seats each.

Shortly after the opening, customers begin to come in for breakfast. Some asked for Black Coffee, some for a Latte, and others a Cappuccino. Often paired with stacked pancakes with cream in between and a strawberry on top, waffles coated in honey and blueberries or chocolate and banana slices layered between soft crêpes.

The afternoon passed by in a flash, and as the clock ticked with every second passing, you suddenly realized it had turned to 4:32pm. Occasional customers had swung by the pastry shop for a quick purchase, only to then continue onwards with their day almost as quickly as they had appeared.

And its seems that your regular has chosen this very time to patronize the pastry shop.

With a childish joy, your regular, a tall and gangly man with white hair, once again invaded the comfortable silence of the bakery. His presence sent a shiver of annoyance through you. How could he be such a disruption so often? It was honestly getting ridiculou--

" [name]-CHAAAN " With a childish joy, your regular, a tall and gangly man with white hair, once again invaded the comfortable silence of the bakery with slamming the door. His presence sent a shiver of annoyance through you.

"You look as beautiful as always!"  He barged in, as usual, with an energy that could rival a hyperactive child. But this time, he wasn't alone. Who were these people he had brought along? You hadn't seen them around the bakery before. And by the look of them, they were just as loud and boisterous as your regular.

Much to your annoyance, Umemiya had brought with him a sizable group of companions. They wasted no time, immediately starting to rearrange the seating into a circular formation. To your surprise, you recognized the group as the so-called protectors of the town, Bofurin. You weren't pleased that they, too, were causing a ruckus in your bakery.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at Umemiya and his group of companions. In mock surprise, you remarked, 'You actually have friends, Umemiya? I thought only Hiragi could put up with your antics.' With the menu in hand, you prepared to take their order, albeit begrudgingly

Umemiya laughed at your comment, clearly not bothered by it in the slightest. His companions chuckled amongst themselves, amused by your words. “Oh, you wound me!” he retorts, putting his hand over his heart in faux hurt. “And here I thought you enjoyed my company!” he grins, clearly enjoying the banter. “And of course I have friends! I’ll have you know that they’re not as uptight as that stick in the mud Hiragi.” "what did you just call me??"

After handing the group the menu he came back to where you were standing, wiping a plate.

"so i'll get a-" "1150." "I didnt even order yet-" "one thousand one hundred and fifty yen. pay up." "wait um let me get a a large matcha-" "yes yes yes! A large matcha shortbread cake, frosted with a light and fluffy pastry cream and topped with fresh, plump blackberries, an iced matcha latte, extra sweet, with some whipped cream on top. And an extra shot of espresso to the latte!! stop playing Hajime Umemiya." "woah how did you know i was going to get that??" "you're the only person in this town that enters saying 'yahoo!' At 4:32pm !! And i can smell that old t-shirt you've been wearing for 3 years."

" did i begame a regular here to the point you memorized my order? " he grinned, pulling out his thin, long wallet. " please. You come here almost everyday. "

While Umemiya laughed and joked with you, some of his companions were watching the interaction with playful stares. One of them with sharp blonde hair couldn't help but comment under his breath, 'How are his teeth keeping up with all that sugar??' The rest of them chuckled amongst themselves, clearly amused by the thought.

Even though the banter and teasing from Umemiya and his friends could occasionally be annoying, there was no denying that these moments were often the high point of your day. The lighthearted atmosphere he brought with his visits always lifted your spirits, making the work a bit more bearable, even if just for a moment.

You efficiently prepared the orders for Umemiya and his friends, making sure each one was made according to their specifications. You then handed them over to your barista, a fellow employee at the bakery, who took charge of serving the customers. She took the orders and skillfully moved through the bakery, delivering the pastries and drinks to the table where Umemiya and his companions were seated.

Your co-worker, a cheerful and energetic individual, their smile and easygoing nature made them popular among the customers, you honestly wanted someone more calm and collected to work with you, but oh well. She quickly engaged with Umemiya and his companions, bringing an even more lively atmosphere to the already bustling eatery.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as Umemiya's voice rose above the din, engaging in a lively conversation with your co-worker. His talkative nature was evident as he eagerly joined in, his boisterous laughter occasionally cutting through the air. You felt a strange feeling in your chest, a mix of annoyance and something you couldn't quite place, at the sight of the two chatting so comfortably.

Umemiya was known to be talkative, and you had no doubt that he would quickly become the center of attention in any conversation. His infectious energy and charismatic personality often made him the star of the show, overshadowing others around him. You knew this would be a long interaction... and you didnt like that.

You shook off the strange feeling and forcefully turned your attention back to the task at hand. You busied yourself with reorganizing the utensils and wiping croissant crumbs off the countertop in a futile attempt to distract yourself. The clattering of silverware and scrubbing of the crumbs filled the air, providing a temporary respite from the conversation happening behind you. Yet, the sound of Umemiya's infectious laugh still managed to seep through, an incessant reminder of the interaction unfolding nearby.

your heart clenched, felt a pang of jealousy and a wave of possessiveness washed over you, surprising you with its intensity. However, this feeling of jealousy was unfamiliar, and you couldn't fully understand it. You were perplexed, torn between wanting to intervene and knowing you had no right to. The mixture of emotions left you in a state of confusion, wrestling with your unexpected feelings of jealousy.

Umemiya was just a noisy regular, nothing else. right? He just orders his complicated order, eats it, and leaves. no way you would catch feelings with that little interraction? yes that must be it. you're just confused with yourself. Nothing serious. The feeling will go away surely...right?

The setting sun sent golden rays filtering through the windows of the bakery, bathing the interior in a warm and inviting glow. The gentle orange hue cast a peaceful atmosphere over the space, creating a cozy ambiance that seemed to welcome the evening. As your co-worker gathered the empty plates and cups, the friends were finishing up the last of their drinks and pastries, preparing to depart. They thanked your co-worker for their service, bidding them farewell as they got up from their seats.

Umemiya approached you with a carefree smile on his face, his usual boisterous attitude apparent. He handed over the payment for his friends orders, the bills slightly crinkled. The air was still filled with the lingering scent of freshly-baked pastries, and the soft chatter of customers in the background.

He leaned in to say, "Thanks, [name]." He said, with a playful wink. "You're the best!" Then, he turned to leave, joining his friends who were waiting by the exit.

You counted out the bills with practiced ease, making sure everything was in order. Then you placed them at the cash register.

You let out a sigh, "Those guys sure are a handful." You remarked, shaking your head in mild disbelief. "Especially Umemiya... always causing a scene whenever he comes in. I swear, I don't know what I'm going to do with that guy." "its not everyday we get such popular customers, right [name]-san?" she asked, placing down the empty food containers on the counter.

"care to elaborate?"

"well you saw their uniforms right?! those are student at Furin! The deliquent school! And who doesnt like tough independent handsome guys? people are fighting to get a chance with them too! and i might be one of them..." she fiddled  with her hair, remembering the totally-her-type Furin boys that were patrolling some days ago.

You rolled your eyes, amused by your coworker's swooning. "Easy there, lovebird," you chuckled. "You're practically drooling." You teased. "Sure, those Furin boys might have a reputation, but don't get too obsessed. There's more to life than swooning over bad boys, you know?" You teased, giving her a playful nudge.

"Fancy coming from you [name]-san! With that undeniable romantic tension between you and Umemiya-san you should just kiss already! God its so obvious you're down bad for eachother," she scolded.

"I dont like him like that. Absolutely fucking not. What the hell? also don't you have work to do?" You were fuming, how can she accuse you like that? Some nerves this girl has.

"aye ayeee whatever makes you sleep at night boss!" she finally left you alone, face red with the thought of you and umemiya in a romantic relationship. thinking of it now it doesnt seem like a bad idea- wait what are you saying?

As night fell, the streets transformed into a mesmerizing canvas of light and life. The vibrant glow of the street lamps illuminated the sidewalks, casting soft shadows that danced with each passing motorcycle and pedestrian. Pedestrians ambled along, some with purpose and some aimlessly strolling, their laughter and voices creating a symphony of city life. The shops along the street were a kaleidoscope of colors - neon signs, shop windows, and the warm glow of restaurants all contributing to the urban nighttime beauty.

As you strolled down the street, your gaze lingered on the captivating designs of the various restaurants. You couldn't help but stop at grocery stores to purchase charming little snacks that caught your eye. The soft illumination from street lamps created a cozy atmosphere, and the lively hum of the city added to the soothing backdrop. After a few minutes of observing and sampling treats, you continue your journey towards your apartment, feeling a sense of contentment in this routine night-time ritual.

You were abruptly jolted from your thoughts as someone violently collided with you. Irritation flared up, but before you could even snap at the person, you found yourself face-to-face with Umemiya. Surprise replaced the frustration as you recognized the messy-haired troublemaker who frequented your bakery. A mix of emotions - irritation and begrudging familiarity - raced through you. God this could not get any worse.

"[name]-chan? I didnt know you were passing by this street today!" he exclaimed, seemingly happy to see you again.

"yeah me neither.. if you could just excuse me-" you tried slipping away from his grasp but-

"this is also my way to the orphanage! I'll walk you to your apartment like a true gentleman." He had a prideful aura around him but you just dismissed it and walked away.

"heeyy! wait for meee!!"

Umemiya rambled on and on, a never-ending torrent of thoughts and observations flowing out of his mouth at an astounding rate. It was almost as if his brain had an infinite capacity for information. You were stuck in the whirlwind of his conversation, listening to his constant flow of words and musings. It was a mystery as to how he was able to hold, yet alone recall, such a vast amount of random knowledge.

As you arrived at your apartment building, you finally managed to find an opening in the conversation to bid farewell to the endlessly-chatty Umemiya. You gave a tired wave, signalling your need for some peace and quiet. Despite the annoyance you felt towards his incessant chatter, there was an odd fondness underlying it, an acknowledgment of his unique character and his ability to make every interaction memorable.

"Wait! " he shouted, causing you to flinch a bit. "A-are you uh free... tomorrow?" "Are you asking me out?" "no. I mean.. yes, maybe as.. friends?" "i mean, i guess i am,but " in fact you werent. you were supposed to hang out with your friends at a shopping mall.

He made a quiet sound of celebration that you didnt ignore. "You're so cute." "What?" "I said you look like a sack of shit, goodbye."

ー﹕m.list﹐

© 2024 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works. Thanks!

[delicate-luv]

Pucker Up, Princess ~ Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie challenges reader to a staring contest, and the loser has to do what the winner says.

CW: fluff, getting lost in Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes, no use of y/n

———————————————————————

You sat in Eddie’s bedroom, trying to figure out what to do to pass the time. Eddie was your best friend, and that was all. You had secretly liked him for a long time now but knew he wasn't interested. He had better, more prettier girls that were always at his feet. Why even bother? You both wanted different things.

You were both very obviously bored and would actually rather be interested in watching paint dry at this point.

Eddie finally broke his silence. "Tell you what, we do a staring contest and whoever wins gets to dare the loser to do something and they have to do it. 'kay?"

You nodded, agreeing. You were god awful at staring contests, so you weren't even going to try. Plus, you couldn't think of a single thing to even dare Eddie to do even in the off chance that you did win.

“one...two...three...go!" he shouted. As you stared into his eyes, you could feel yourself becoming more nervous by the second. His eyes looking in yours made your face turn a light shade of pink. You could actually get used to this, his chocolate brown button eyes were such a sight for sore eyes. Feeling yourself get lost in them, you quickly blinked, forgetting you were playing the game.

"Aha!" He clapped his hands together and pointed to your face. "you blinked! I win!"

"Okay, okay, what do you dare me to do?" You smiled, prepared for him to say something stupid like telling you to wash his dishes or make him lunch. The last time he dared you to do something, it was to go and clean his dirty laundry. Eugh, the thought of it still makes you shudder to this day.

He looked right into your eyes. "Kiss me."

"What?" Your eyes went wide and your smile felt weak. Your own ears must be playing tricks on you, right?

"Y/N, I dare you to kiss me,” he grinned. "Pucker up, princess."

"Alright" You beamed as you leaned in to kiss him and he leaned in too.

Your worlds collided as did your lips. Your hands started to shake and your knees felt wobbly. The pit in your stomach turned to a spark. It hit that there was no turning back and you were in deep now. the dark blue comforter on the bed below you seemed to have disappeared as you felt like you were floating. He laid a hand on your hip and another on your cheek. Every single time that Eddie had ever made you feel that love-sick euphoria was coming to fruition.

"Even better than I imagined, you're so metal." He blushed along with his signature smirk that totally rocked your world.

[raimoka]

— " (I'M) WAITING FOR THE SUN "

｡ ㅤꕤ ㅤ PAIRING: dazai osamu & reader.

SYNOPSIS: it was just a single string, so thin it could easily be cut with scissors, however, with just that mere red thread, it tied you to him.

tags ➜ alternate universe — modern, no abilities, painter!reader, writer!dazai dreams, pining, generally a fluff, soulmates trope, catching feelings, open ending, named reader — only last name though, dazai osamu is bad with feelings implication. ‹𝟹

⋆ author's notes: I wanted to try something new and the first thing that came in my mind was soulmates trope.

send an order!! → guide ❀ flowers ←

You have always been a dreamer.

Oftentimes you would drift away from your surroundings into an imaginary world, your sense of reality blurring away.

In that world you would feel relaxed, happy and at peace even if it's for merely a few minutes. A world where you could erase everyday from your mind and form an illusion of something you were unable to grasp, a world filled with colors and beauty.

It's bittersweet.

And although it's painful knowing these are nothing more but surreal fantasies, hopes and dreams it's worth it in the end.

However—as of late, your daydreams changed into a one singular daydream that, for whatever reason, keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Day or night, in the painting room or in the peace of your room, whenever you close your eyes, be it a ten minute nap or eight hours of sleep the same scenario will play in front of your eyes over and over again.

Sun will shine its way through the grass as your fingers brush against your creamy white lace dress. Birds will sing their song to which you'll hum under your breath as the fruity smell of just bloomed flowers lingers in the air.

You'll sing and dance and laugh as if you're the only one in the world.

Then after a while you'll approach a big cherry tree in bloom, and suddenly you won't be alone anymore. There, in front of that very tree, will stand a person with chocolate colored brown hair carried by the wind, wearing a white button up shirt along with black trousers.

They'll look in the distance, seemingly unfazed and each time and even after twenty times you've seen the ending, you would approach them slowly when—as if on cue the person will turn around and you would freeze up at your spot, your heart skipping a beat because in front of you will stand the most beautiful human you have ever encountered. For a moment, they'll lock eyes before they vanish into the air, leaving no trace behind.

Then you'll twitch, snapping back to reality.

bleary and cloudy, immense hues of darkness lay hold of your sight, then as the starch gradually settles to the bottom and the skim rises to the top, at last your eyes wearily open—unable to remember his face.

It's as if when their eyes lock everything fades and your brain stops. It's weird and the more times it happens the more annoying it gets.

The person in your dreams feels familiar yet so out of reach. Like you've known them your entire life but hasn't even met them yet, as if the two of you were tied by a red thread of fate.

His presence is strong. Unique. Strange.

You can remember the way the smell of carnations surrounded him, the way his chocolate colored brown hair rode on the breeze, the way they were so tall you almost felt embarrassed standing near him but you can't, for the love of god, remember their face.

You feel their stare on your face. You know that your eyes lock each time and that each time they do your heart skips a beat. You know it and yet you can't pinpoint even the most obvious things, like their color.

You want to know more and everytime that you feel like you're getting closer to discovering something, you would get pulled out of the state of unconsciousness, snapping you back into reality.

It was as if it was mocking you, laughing at the anger it was giving you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, hands balling into a fist.

You ha—

The sound of wood splitting in half brought you back into reality, disrupting the scrambles of thoughts beginning to form within your mind.

huh ?

You lift your head, met with the sight of your paintbrush splitted into two. The other half of the paintbrush falls, accompanied with the sound of thud.

Your lips, which were previously formed into a thin line, parted.

"nazoki, did you just break your brush?"

you tense up. you feel everyone's eyes shift to your frame, hushed whispers accompanied with snickers filling the room. sweat builds up on your hands as the giggles continued, and you bit down on your lip, hovering your gaze on your thighs.

"It can be easily fixed but remember, that's not your own and you need to learn how to be careful with the brushes."

meekly, you dipped your head in response.

"yes ma'am..."

❀

It was already late when you arrived back home.

The sun had gone down, and the skies embraced by hues of warm colors had turned into vast of blackness already.

You didn't change out of your clothes, with the fatigue beginning to overtake your body, you didn't bother to do so.

You gently unlocked the door to your room and slipped inside.

you were greeted with pure abyss, which was anticipated since it was already night. however, there was still some disinctive things within the shadows, like the books sheltered on the shelves, the roses in the vase on the nightstand, and the paintings in the corner of your room.

you perk up.

you moved, walking towards to the empty canvas at the corner of your room.

In front of you, you laid down an empty white canvas and some newly bought paint from few days ago. without a second thought you started painting. You didn't know what you were going for just yet but you settled on just letting your hand move freely across the canvas.

One stroke then another—you paint sky, petals and a silhouette.

So far it's turning pretty decent but the more you draw the more anxious you became. The brush in your hand starts shaking as you reached out to paint the silhouette's face.

...

What now?

Cold sweat runs down your face and you had to take a moment to snap back to reality. Suddenly your stomach fills with dread and you had to take a break from painting.

The face. You couldn't remember the face.

You didn't finish the painting that day.

❀

There is no need for you to open your eyes because when you came to your own senses, feeling grass beneath your palms as the sun beams directly in your face, you knew exactly where you were.

Despite going to sleep in a bad mood you can't help but feel strangely relaxed now that you're here.

Slowly opening your eyes, you sit up and took a look around. Nothing, as far as you're aware, has changed. It's still the same dreamy place you visit everyday (sometimes even multiple times).

Birds are still singing, the sun is still shining and the flowers are still blooming.

After a short walk you find out the unknown person is also still here, simply staring at the distance.

You freeze in place and simply admires them from afar, staring at their back profile.

They stand there unbothered.

You take a big risk of walking up to them—not too close but not as far in an attempt to get a better view. Nothing.

You're scared.

Then you get a crazy idea.

Now you're terrified.

Quickly, before you get a chance to make a cowardly decision and back up, you ran towards the person and grabs their wrist, not giving them enough time to turn around.

First thing that you felt is warmth. Their skin is warm.

You lift your head head and meets their face that is now painted with a shocked expression, lips parted. When your eyes meet you felt fear, surprise, shock, happiness, anxiety all at once because you've finally caught them.

Then all emotions swirling within your chest dulls and the person slips away, disappearing from your grip once again.

❀

First thing, you did when you woke up is rush towards the canvas and frantically attempts to copy down the face, that expression of surprise and alarm, as similar as possible before eventually it too leaves your mind.

However it doesn't turn out anything like you've seen just a few moments prior. The expression on its own looks pretty amazing and the face is really unique, not quite like anything you've drawn before, but it's not his.

Shit.

Why? why couldn't you do it?

You were so close and yet—

You slipped up.

You didn't get it. You needed to remember. You didn't know why.

All you knew is that this person drives you crazy.

❀

Surrounding you, there was variety of pages of papers, canvas, multiple art supplies.

You pull out canvas after canvas messing up, repainting, scrapping, breaking, trying again, over and over again but nothing feels right.

Before long, what little memory of the person's face is left in your memory vanishes leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your chest. You fall to your knees, gripping the paintbrush in your palm firmly, cursing yourself. Why? Why couldn't you remember?

It continues like this for a while. After every nap you would pull out your sketchbook, which has by now found its new place under your pillow, and try to sketch the face but each and every time you'd be met with another failed attempt.

It felt like a curse of some sort. Wanting to remember but not being able to. Wanting to know but not being able to meet. Wanting to understand but not being able to learn.

You've tried many different ways. You tried jumping him. You tried running into him. You tried approaching him slowly. Sometimes you'd lock eyes with him, sometimes he'd disappear the moment they establish physical contact. You'd sketch day and night but you just couldn't nail it.

Slowly but noticeably a pile of crumpled up paper in your trash can started increasing. So far you've ruined three canvases and wasted almost an entire sketchbook which gave her an confrontation from your roommate, both from the trash and the one canvas you borrowed from her.

"If you need canvas, please just buy one for yourself. I'm gonna get scolded by my mother."

"the trash can in your room is starting to overflow with trash... some of the trash are even on the floor already, please dispose of them if you can. I don't know what you're trying to do but you should give it a little break, it doesn't seem like you're getting anywhere either way."

you've apologized multiple times for it, but in spite of her intentions being different, the painful truth behind her words pierces through your heart like an arrow. You weren't not getting anywhere that much is right but she's trying.

you were trying so hard because for the first time in a while you had a goal set in mind.

That night you didn't bother the guy. Instead, you sat down leaning on that big tree watching him stand just a few meters ahead of you.

You haven't given up of course but god you were tired. you sigh, releasing the tension in your body, closing your eyes beneath the tree's shadow.

You didn't know what you expected but someone snapping you out of your thoughts you sitting next to you was not it.

For a moment, you were too scared to look aside because this is a rare opportunity and you couldn't mess this up and yet at the same time you could wake up at any moment so if you were to waste this it would eat you up from inside for days. Anxiously, you moved your head and catches sight of the brown haired individual's side profile. It's the sight so dazzling you suck in your breath and bites your lip and just stares.

Every time you visit, you noticed a small detail you haven't before. Like how they shift from one leg to the other when the cold breeze brushes against their concealed arms, you wondered if it was really that cold for him, or how messy his hair was, you could've presumed he didn't take care of himself.

Today, you notice his eyes are shimmering brown, bright and full of life, no . they weren't full of life, they were filled with pure abyss, barely reflecting any source of tiny sparks. He was tired, lonely, and empty. You wondered how long they spent in this realm. Does he have a home? What's his story and how did he end up here? Just now after you take a good look at them, you started questioning all those things. Up until now all you knew was that they were here each time you fell asleep and that your face gets red and your heart skips a beat whenever you get near.

For the first time that you stared at them for more than two seconds, you started noticing all the little details. His bone structure, every single lash on his eye, even how messy his hair was. You take a mental note of it and stares for so long that you didn't even realize he might've feel awkward until they cough and move their face to the side, hiding their face a little bit further with the locks of his hair.

"I'm sorry."

You speak up slowly.

You wonder if he was even real.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Silence. Heavy, uncomfortable, cold, suffocating silence.

He gives her a side eye but don't say a word. You, not knowing how to react, just stares. You stare back, drowning in their eyes, not even realizing how close they've gotten to each other.

You have drawn many portraits of many different people up until this point in your life. The beauty of it all is that every person is different, unique and beautiful in their own way. Each painting you did is special because it's not like any other. That's, in your opinion, the beauty of this world. Even now, this person that might be nothing more than a fragment of your wild imagination is unlike any other you've met.

They are so beautiful it made you sick. Not just their physical appearance but their aura and their company. The way when their hands touch it sends an electric shock through your body or the way you get all warm and fuzzy inside when you were near him.

you swallowed down a thick saliva, forcing yourself to speak again, you didn't know what you were gonna say but with the tense atmosphere between the two of you, you wanted to ease it up, thus allowing the words in your throat to carry out.

"Hey."

The boy shifts his gaze towards you upon your call, moving his head along his gaze. You feel the hue of light red beginning to adorn your cheeks as soon he turns his head to your direction.

You fidgeted with your fingers, "You're a very pretty person."

You could feel his stare on you, but he didn't utter a single word.

"When I say pretty, I don't mean it just at that... you're so pretty that I could be with you all day just to watch the cherry blossom tree's bright pink light glow on your skin and how it brings out a million subtle sparks of color in your eyes, and In the evening, I could draw you all night long until I have no more strength, and when it's finally night with the moon, I could close my eyes to remember the day going by as a reflection of you."

as you spoke, you couldn't help but notice how close your faces were with just a few centimeters apart from each other. you two were so close, It distilled a warm fuzzy feeling within your chest.

"you're quite talkative."

for once within several dreams, he finally uttered a single word, and just the mere sound of his voice made you speechless. he leans his head slightly closer and you couldn't help but think that your faces will crash. you were sure your faces will crash and you're scared if they do the universe as we know will explode but the world collapses before you could get a chance to blink and suddenly you were panting in the pitch dark of an all too familiar room.

❀

They say everything comes with its good and bad sides so you presumed the same must go for this entire situation too.

If it were up to you, you'd say the good thing is you finally finished your painting. After so much time and effort you have finally created something you're satisfied with.

Bad, or rather unfortunate, thing is that the next time you went to sleep you didn't dream at all. At first you thought it was a mistake so you pulled her blanket over your frame and went to sleep again despite the morning sun desperately trying to climb on your bed through the closed windows and your roommate gently knocking on your door.

Nothing.

After a few more times of not being able to wake up in that imaginary world of yours, you started to freak out a little. It was understandable though. When you spend so much time somewhere, so much that it turns into a habit, it's only natural to get worried when it abruptly stops with no sign whatsoever.

For now you'll just have to learn to adjust to your new reality.

❀

It has been a year since you last dreamed of that dream.

you struggled to accept the truth, occasionally glancing at the painting you've finished right after your last dream. however, as time passed by, you managed to divert your attention to much more important things, slowly forgetting the world you would often dream off.

you didn't know whether you liked it or not but you supposed it was fine since a lot of great opportunities were beginning to appear to you.

"That's why nazoki-san, we would love to invite you as a guest artist for our next gallery showcase!" Words were ringing in your ears like an echo. There were thousands and one emotion flowing through her body. Excitement, joy, disbelief, anxiety and so much more.

Finally, It's finally happening. You couldn't help but think to yourself. All that hard work and effort is finally paying off.

When you got a call from a nearby gallery asking for someone with your last name, you presumed it was for your mother, a professional artist who had few of her works showcased there, that's why the first thing you felt when they said it's you they needed was confusion.

You've been drawing for years, joined many different art courses and took many drawing classes, participated in many events but getting an offer to have some of your work showcased in a big, professional and well-known gallery for one of their events was something new—a step closer to achieving your dream.

Of course, you didn't hesitate and swiftly agreed to the offer.

It's only when it came time to choose your best work you got a tad uncertain about which paintings to pick.

You decided to go for one landscape drawing, one abstract and one portrait.

Choosing a landscape and abstract was easy, you simply chose your most recent work, a work which, by chance, was seen by her classmates and some teachers and received tons of compliments.

Choosing a portrait was a bit harder though—there was just so much diversity between your models you'd feel bad choosing one out of many other, just as beautiful, ones.

You dig through the canvases in an attempt to find a perfect one when your hands suddenly brush against the beige fabric pulled over one of the canvases, hiding it from view.

A drop of cold sweat rolls down your neck as you uncover the familiar painting. It's still the same as you left it a year ago.

When your dreams stopped you felt as if you lost a part of yourself. Being unable to face the painting you worked so hard on, you ended up covering it up and leaving it to collect dust in the pile of canvases.

Even now when you looked at it, a part of you feels like sinking but the feeling of dread is easily outshined with the feeling of nostalgia and warmth.

you decided which portrait to bring to the event.

❀

More people have visited the event than you had originally planned, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Almost. All the praise you got made up for it.

You would be lying if you said you didn't like to be praised. You loved the words of affirmation, to hear someone from a higher level acknowledge her efforts and make sure you're on the right track.

You were silently lurking in the crowd the entire day, starting conversations when you'd get the chance, giving speeches about her art.

You talked and talked, over and over again, repeating what you've already said over twenty times by now and every group so far would listen carefully. Seeing them genuinely interested in your work made it all worthwhile.

Soon enough, night fell and people started leaving one by one, saying their goodbyes. It's a shame that the day has come to an end but if you're lucky maybe you will get more chances like this in the near future.

"nazoki-san!" One of the gallerys workers approaches you, "Would you mind picking up your work? I still have some guests to see off."

"Alright! Thank you so much again!" You bow down your head before you make your way to the hall where your work has been showcased up until now. It was a part of their agreement that when the event is over you'll get to bring your paintings back home.

When you step foot into the room, however, you find you weren't not alone. Almost like a deja-vu, in front of her stands a familiar brown haired person with their back turned towards you, in his hand, he held a book, it seemed like he was looking for some inspiration.

Your heart sinks.

Immediately, you stop in your tracks.

How?

Blood in your veins freezes as the cold sweat starts dripping down your face. It can't be…could it?

"E-excuse me-e—" you tried to speak up but your voice breaks in the most embarrassing way possible.

The person twitches in surprise, turning around with a startled expression on their face and it's the same damn expression you saw that day when you first grabbed their hand. you swear it is. It has to.

The person points an index finger to himself, tilting his head to the side, "Me?" as soon as you heard that voice, you knew damn well it was.

For a short moment their eyes lock. It's the same chocolate colored eyes holding the same lonesome warmth and oh you want to rush towards them at full speed and tackle them to the ground but youi calm yourself down and continues to talk, "We're closing."

Your voice comes off stronger and steadier this time but the hint of nervousness can still be distinguished.

"Oh… I'm sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."

So much happened today. You talked a lot, you walked a lot and on top of that you woke up early with only three hours of sleep the night prior, perhaps you're just imagining things. Maybe you're daydreaming again. But his voice sounds so real and you can see them so vividly even with you vision blurry from exhaustion.

There is so much you wanted to know, how, why, what, when, huh?? you heard stories about people's dreams coming true, about how some met people in their dreams but you never imagined anything so…extraordinary happening to you. But here you were with so many questions lingering in your head and so little time so you decided fuck it no matter what happens this time, no matter what kind of story your faith is writing, whatever happens in this timeline you weren't letting them go again.

The chocolate haired person gives you a warm smile, although, It looked a bit forced, you didn't say anything as he turns back to glance at the painting in front of them one last time.

"I was just thinking about how this painting looks a lot like me."

Your knees buckle up underneath you.

Weak .

you felt weak.

but you couldn't even focus on that, all you could focus on was how the person you've been longing for was indeed right in front of you.

and with that, the interlude halts.

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ taglists are open everytime.

2024 © reposts are prohibited with/without permission... plagiarism is prohibited. don’t translate my work without my permission. i will take measures of reporting you. reblogs and likes are appreciated.

[nova-amor]

༘☁︎⋆ ◜ 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐞 ◞

miguel o’hara was not the type of man to lose his cool easily — he spent plenty of time with his therapist to ensure that he kept his temper in check. he dedicated hours to practicing different techniques and exercises to keep his temper at a minimum, ranging from controlled breathing exercises to working out for hours on end.

he needed to maintain a leveled head as the leader of the spider society; after all, he spent most hours along side some of the most annoying people across the multiverse so it was vital for his sanity and everyone’s safety that he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself.

the only one that could truly push his buttons was none other than you— his beautiful, compassionate, loving wife. after years together, you had learned which words and actions would push miguel over the edge and you often used that knowledge to your benefit.

miguel ran his hands down his cheeks, mental fatigue weighing down his patience as you rambled about some house chore that miguel was supposed to have completed a few days ago. he had just returned from another mission across the multiverse, his muscles aching and mind too tired to form a proper response to the one-sided argument.

he leaned back in his chair, propoing his elbow atop the dining table and resting his chin on his fist as he watched you pace back and forth. surely burning a hole into the carpet beneath your feet from how long you had been pacing. hands flailing around as your words went through one of his ears and out the other.

“would you shut up?” miguel interrupted your rant, his tone cool and lazy. his brown eyes narrowed, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips as he watched an expression of shock paint across your face.

“what did you just say?” you questioned, hands finding their rightful place on your hips. you were completely taken aback— miguel rarely shut you down, let alone told you to shut up.

“you heard me, hermosa,” the dark pupils of miguel’s eyes widened, his face darkening as he sensed a challenge beginning to brew between the two of you. “shut up before i put that mouth to better use.”

it didn’t take much after that for you to end up on your knees, mouth stuffed full with the thick girth of miguel’s cock. tears brimmed the edges of your eyes, a thin mixture of saliva and pre-cum staining your chin as miguel buried his cock into the depths of your throat. the harsh carpet dug into the skin of your knees, your jaw burning and scalp throbbing from how fast and hard miguel was fucking your mouth.

he hissed at the sensation of your throat clenching around his cock’s head, the vibrations of your gag coaxing him to fuck your mouth even harder. he glared down at you, the black of his pupils completely drowning out the chocolate brown hues of his irises.

“told you to shut up, nena, and per usual, you— didn’t— fuckin’— listen—” he growled, your moans around his cock sending a shiver down his spine. he fisted the back of your head, the tips of his talons digging into your scalp just enough to keep you from squirming away. a reminder that he was the one in control of this situation.

“mean girls like you are good for nothing but sucking cocks, right? you’re probably fuckin’ soaking right now from this, gettin’ off on me fucking this good-for-nothing throat,” miguel’s trimmed pubic hairs ticked your nose, his hips starting to stutter as his thrusts grew more sloppy and frantic. he was so fuckin’ close, his nerves tingling as he sat on the edge off his release. “you’re fuckin’ enjoying this, eh? such a dirty girl.”

miguel shoved you away from a rough nudge, glowering at you as he fisted his cock. you watched in anticipation— eyes wide, mouth watering at the sight of miguel pleasuring himself so close to your face.

“close your eyes and stick out that tongue,” his voice was raspy, inching his cock closer to your lips. you obediently followed his orders, the heat between your thighs growing stronger. and then, with just a grunted ‘mierda’ as a warning— white, hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face, his breaths heavy and labored as his orgasm knocked the very air out from his lung.

you instinctively went to wipe your eyes, swallowing remnants of the cum that stained your tongue. “don’t be wasteful and wipe it off,” miguel hissed, grasping at your wrist with a tight hold. “now be a good girl and bend over the table, i’m not done with you.”

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.5)

A Matty Healy Fanfic

cw: alcohol (casual consumption), mention of drugs (no real ones)

Chapter 5 I nervously tucked my hair behind my ears as I jogged up the steps out of the tube. I was running a couple of minutes behind for the date, anxiously checking my phone to make sure I was walking in the right direction. I rounded the corner and was once again met with those warm chocolate eyes.

Hands clasped behind his back, he stepped forward with such a warm smile, reaching an arm out to pull me in for a hug and I thought I'd melt right there and then. 

"Look at you! You're a sight for sore eyes. You look absolutely gorgeous," said Matty as he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek hello, my skin tingling where his lips left my skin.

"Speak for yourself, I look like a peasant next to you. I didn't realize you were going to wear a suit- I would have dressed more appropriately if I'd known!" I exclaimed, nervously adjusting the hem of my skirt, grateful at that moment that I had at the last minute chosen to wear a dress.

I'd worn a sheer floral white spaghetti strap dress with black boy shorts and a tube top underneath, my hair was down in its curly shag per usual, with thick gold hoops adorning my ears. The dress itself could have passed off as formal, but my green and yellow Adidas sambas and vintage leather bomber jacket didn't help me look any less casual.

Matty, on the other hand, pulled off his formal look so casually that he looked like he could have been born in a suit. He looked so handsome in his grey suit jacket and matching wide-leg trousers. Underneath he wore a parchment-coloured dress shirt, his chest tattoo peaking through the top few buttons that had been left undone, making me flush as the memory of him in the bathroom flooded my mind. 

"Nonsense, you're dressed perfectly." he smiled at me earnestly. He ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly looking bashful. "I brought these for you," he said as he pulled a bouquet of roses out from behind his back.

I was speechless. 

I had tried very hard all day not to get my hopes up that this was anything more than just a friendly drink from a boy who felt bad. And here he was, dressed in a suit, handing me flowers, and telling me I looked gorgeous? I had to concentrate very hard on not passing out.

"I don't know what to say, thank you so much, Matty," I said, unable to look away quite yet from the beautiful bouquet.

Matty smiled down at me sweetly. He placed his hand on my lower back, leaning in and kissing my temple in response "You don't have to say anything. Shall we?" He asked, as he gently ushered me inside the bar.

Inside, the bar reeked of warmth and intimacy. It was dimly lit, various candles dotted throughout the bar. The walls were chipped and covered in various paintings and vintage posters. Wine bottles lined the wall behind the long weathered wooden bar. A red neon light that read "WINE" glowed behind the bartender, casting a warm glow along the rack of wine glasses that shimmered like fairy lights.

The bartender looked up at us as we entered. Making to walk towards us, the bartender stopped and smiled when he recognized Matty, gesturing politely towards the back of the bar. Matty nodded back, giving a smile of recognition and waved a small thank you in return as we continued.

At the back of the bar was a very private small semi-circle booth, just big enough for the two of us to sit comfortably. A candle-lit lamp glowed in the centre of the small table. It was charming and intimate.

Matty helped me out of my coat, letting me choose my side while he took off his suit jacket and hung up our coats. He slid in to sit next to me. 

Now that we were seated, I was once again met with those rich brown eyes, making my stomach flip. We were so close now, knees grazing each other under the table. If we both wanted to lean our elbows on the table, our faces would only be a couple of inches from each other. Matty leaned forward onto his elbows with a smile, oozing with a sort of gentle confidence.

"What sort of wine do you like?" He asked inquisitively.

"Uhm, well I've always been a fan of white, but I have really been enjoying orange wine lately," I said as he nodded attentively. "I don't know very much about wine though, to be honest. I usually pick stuff based on how pretty the label is," I laughed bashfully. His eyes crinkled in response before he looked up towards the bar, making eye contact with the bartender who headed over right away.

"Doin' alright, Robert?" he asked kindly.

"Been good! Slow night so far, but I'm sure we'll pick up. How about you? Things all right since you got back from tour? The boys doing well?" the tall bearded bartender asked.

"They're all better than ever. Tour was great, but it's a relief to be back if I'm honest. This one was long," Matty responded casually, running a hand through his curls. "Well, we're glad to have you back, Matty. Forgive me, I don't think we've met before- my name is Robert" the bartender said, turning to me, offering me his hand with a kind smile.

"I'm Anna, it's nice to meet you!" I replied, taking his hand.

"That's an accent I don't hear around here often. Where did you find this lovely lady, Matty? On tour in America?" Robert joked.

"Funny story actually..." Matty said self-patronizingly. He winked as he put his hand on my knee briefly. My face flushed. It felt nice to have a little inside joke with him, our own little moment.

"We actually just met yesterday at a coffee shop- I'm visiting here from Canada," I said to Robert. Matty gave me a thankful look for steering the conversation away from how we'd met.

"Canada! I have a cousin who lives there now. Lovely place." said Robert. "Can I get you two something to drink?"

"Yes please, we'd love a bottle of your finest, most expensive orange," replied Matty. I giggled softly before I realized that he wasn't joking. I must have been the only one who thought he was being funny because Robert had already turned to walk away. The pieces started to click together in my head finally... he was in a band, lived in a beautiful apartment, and clearly was decently wealthy- at least wealthy enough to be able to buy things without knowing their price. Was he... famous?

"So," Matty interrupted my train of thought, "Tell me about your residency. Start from the beginning, and do not leave anything out," he turned, looking at me sweetly and attentively.

From that point on, the evening was a whirlwind of conversation. It flowed freely and easily. We talked about my art, about his songwriting, our friends, our families, our homes, and our hobbies. We had so much in common. We could barely keep up with our excitement, laughing endlessly, gazing deeply into each other's eyes, unfazed by how quickly we were comfortable with each other.

I had no clue how much time had passed when Matty poured the rest of our second bottle into each of our glasses. At this point, our knees had gravitated to each other, and my foot had hooked behind one of his own without me even noticing- or maybe he had hooked it himself? I wasn't sure. We gravitated toward one another. And it felt so easy. So natural.

I was just finishing telling a story about my mischievous childhood dog, Arthur, when Matty placed the empty bottle back into its ice bucket and reached out to take my hand as I spoke, interlacing his fingers with mine. 

He propped his head up in his other hand, cocking his head to one side as he concluded, "So you've been dealing with little bratty boys for years then?" he asked with a glimmer in his eye. He continued as he rubbed his thumb along my finger, "An expert like you will have no problem with me then." Smiling at me, his eyes danced in the candlelight.

"Oh, you can't even come close to Arthur," I giggled, smiling back.

He leaned back against the booth with a giant smile on his face, still holding my hand. He sat there for a moment just looking at me, as if contemplating something. 

"You really do look so beautiful," he finally said. I felt the red creep across my cheeks, and he squeezed my hand gently as if to apologize for making me blush. 

"Well now if I return the compliment it won't seem as genuine," I complained playfully, bringing my free hand to my face to cover my cheek.

"I could never turn down a compliment from someone as stunning as you," he said. I sunk deeper into my hand, groaning, then moving my hand to cover my eyes.

"It's almost painful how sweet you are, you know? I'm not used to such earnest kindness," I said as I peeked at him from under my hand.

"Oh, it's quite easy, really. Go ahead, give it a go- tell me how pretty I look," he said cheekily as he sat up, closing his eyes and pretending to toss his hair over his shoulder.

I laughed and jokingly rolled my eyes, and he laughed along. I dropped my hand back to the table, adjusting my face to look more serious. I leaned forward, taking his other hand in my own. Squeezing both of his hands, I took a full breath, then looked directly into his eyes and said, "I think you are the most handsome creature I have ever seen."

His jaw dropped. His mouth turned up into a smile as he reached his hand up to wipe off his smile. He collapsed back into the booth and shook his head shamefully, dragging his thumb and forefinger over the corners of his mouth, "You're gonna have a very hard time getting rid of me after tonight, darling," he said without managing to rid himself of the smile that now stained his face.

"It's a good thing I have no interest in doing that," I said, emboldened by his reaction.

Matty continued to shake his head as he smiled at me. I watched as he ran his tongue over his front teeth under his lips. Then he leaned forward, took a deep breath and paused, looking down at our hands before he looked up at me and said, "May I have your permission to kiss you later when we don't have a table full of fragile glassware and an open flame in between us?"

Breathless, I responded, "Yes, you may." 

We stared at each other and I watched the flame of the candle flicker in his eyes, unable to differentiate between it and that sparkle that still glimmered.

"Well now that that's settled..." he stood up, pulling me with him, "On a completely unrelated note, I fancy a walk, don't you?" He gave me a cheeky smile as I nodded with a laugh, shrugging into my coat which he offered me.

As he went to pay for our drinks after firmly ignoring my persistence at splitting the bill, I went to the washroom.

After I finished washing my hands, I braced myself along the edge of the porcelain sink, looking up at my reflection.

This can't be real. This actually cannot be happening right now.

And yet, it was real, and it was happening. I took a deep breath to steady myself. Somehow, I felt sadness seeping into me. It took me a moment to realize why I was sad:

I already miss him.

It felt obscene, but it was true. I really did miss his presence already. I needed more of him. I reapplied some lip chap and hurried back up to Matty before I could analyze the absurdity of it all.

I found him standing outside of the bar, leaning against the brick exterior and taking a deep drag from a cigarette. His cheeks hollowed, the glow of his cigarette lighting his face in the darkness of the night. He exhaled as he looked up, eyes meeting mine. His chest caved a bit, almost looking pained as he looked me up and down, then straight into my soul. He stood upright and chucked his cigarette into the street without breaking eye contact. He strode over to me with restrained urgency, gathered my face in his hands, and kissed me deeply. 

Then, the world stopped.

He was gentle and strong and passionate and tender all at the same time. I had never done any heavy drugs before, but I was certain this is what they must have felt like, and I couldn't get enough of it. I put my hands on his chest first, feeling his warm skin behind his open shirt under my curious fingertips. Then I travelled down his ribs to his hard stomach. He responded by putting a hand around my waist and pulling me in closer. I took my time exploring, first his waist, his back, and then finally his neck where I ran my fingers through the back of his hair. At this, he groaned softly into my mouth, kissing me even deeper. I shivered in response, savouring the mixed taste of his cigarette, the wine, and him on my tongue, sinking deeper into his touch. I was desperate for more, and I could tell he was too. We kissed, learning each other's lips and tongues. All the things we wanted to say we felt were too obscene to say out loud this soon, so we said them through our kiss instead. 

Eventually, and reluctantly, we pulled apart. He rested his forehead against mine, our noses nuzzled up against each other, neither of us willing to put more space between us.

"I'm sorry I couldn't wait any longer. I've been waiting to do that since yesterday afternoon," he said, relief in his voice. I wrapped my hands back around his waist and inhaled his warm scent again, intoxicated by it. We stood there swaying in each other's arms under the dim glow of a streetlight.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, I took a deep breath. "I was worried maybe you didn't like me like that..." I whispered quietly into his chest. And with that he pulled away, a crease appearing in his brow, holding both my shoulders. "I'm sorry darling, but what could I have possibly done that made you think that I was anything but completely and utterly desperate for you? Have I said something wrong?" He asked, looking worried.

"No, no not at all," I said. I couldn't help reaching my hand up to cup his face. His brow unfurrowed as he leaned his cheek deeper into my palm. His skin felt so soft against mine, freshly shaven and warm. 

I looked down at his chest as I admitted "I saw a photo of you kissing another man in your apartment, I thought maybe he was your boyfriend..."

He looked at me puzzled, trying to understand. "Photo? In my apartment?" He asked. I nodded. 

When he realized which photo I was talking about, he started to laugh.

"Oh my darling..." he said softly. He pulled me back in to kiss each of my cheeks gently and then placed one tender kiss on my lips before pulling away to say, "That's George- one of my best mates I was telling you about earlier- he's in the band. We grew up together so we're very close. And as gorgeous of a man as he is, I'm very not interested like that. And neither is he." He tagged on for clarity. "But please don't tell him I called him gorgeous, it'll go straight to his head." He said with a gentle smile, tipping my chin up with his finger to look at me.

"I'm sorry. Ugh, I'm so embarrassed." I winced, burying my face in his neck.

"Nope. Nuh-uh, I will not allow you to apologize for something that is completely my fault." He said, frowning down at me. "I shouldn't be leaving such homoerotic paraphernalia around my apartment to be misinterpreted by beautiful ladies like yourself."

We laughed together as we fell back into our hug, holding each other, gently swaying while he rested his lips on my head in a prolonged kiss.

After a while, he moved his lips down to my cheek. "I could stand here like this with you forever," he said softly in my ear. My heart fluttered and I smiled into his chest. 

We stood there intertwined with each other for a bit longer before he reluctantly pulled his head back to look down at me, gently taking my face in his hands again. "As much as I'd like to be selfish, I can't forget to be a gentleman, and it's quite late. Can I walk you home, Anna?" he asked somberly as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

"I don't want a gentleman," I said, frowning with a pout. "I just want you."

Matty chuckled in response. He studied my face for a moment, and with a smile, he ran his thumb over the crease between my eyebrows as he replied, "You have me. I'm all yours."

I think my heart stopped in that moment. I read the unabashed sincerity in his eyes, knowing he really meant what he said, and so I reached up to kiss him again. It felt so intimate and natural, yet exciting and electrifying. It felt as if it was our first kiss and our hundredth, all at the same time.

Afterwards, I nuzzled my face into his chest as I wrapped my arms around him tightly. I wasn't ready for this to end just yet. "Let's stand here just a little longer. Please?"

He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on mine, and I could have sworn I heard him breathe a sigh of relief. "Anything for you, Anna. Anything."

[lamuradex]

Stitches of the Mind: Character Profile 2

Let's keep going with these. 2nd main character.

Rhianne Thompson

Description:

Rhianne looked the same as she always did. Powder blush, a rosy-painted complexion, and the face of a model. Subtle makeup framed her eyes and coloured her lips, today’s lipstick being a shade of dark red. Her long, chocolate-brown hair rolled down her shoulders in silky waves, while she wore a sharp blue skirt with a white buttoned blouse, all of which clung to her curved figure. Even out of the public eye, she always made the effort to dress well, looking like someone straight out of a fashion magazine, with a pair of stylish blue spectacles perched on her nose to complete the look.

Born and raised in Meadowhurst, Rhianne is a very fashionable and beautiful woman. She's managed to carve a niche as an owner of Meadowhurst's premier deluxe clothing store, with employees to deal with the day to day sales while she manages and creates her own new designs for the shop floor. Sooner or later, everyone in town has been in there for a dress or a suit.

As she was raised in Meadowhurst, she's always had a passing familiarity with many of the girls that would become her best friends, so it's easy for her to think of them as lifelong friends.

Rhianne can be sharp, even argumentative, and a little stuck in her ways. Even so, she cares for her friends deeply, will be there to support them as needed, and especially has an affection for Penny... more than maybe even she realises.

Rhianne is the one who first met Tammy when she moved to town, going to complain about postal issues, only to find by a quirk of town planning that Tammy was her neighbour in house number, but not actually her next door neighbour. They frequently get each others post. When even Tammy couldn't work out the cause of this quirk, Rhianne invited her out for commiseratory drinks, where she met the rest of the girls.

Not quite a pillar of the community, but a steadfast member of it, known and respected by most.

Of course, much of this changed after Penny disappeared.

With Penny dropping bodies, Rhianne isolated herself, terrified of the killer on the loose, even if that killer used to be her friend. Her isolation became so severe that she stopped visiting her shop, leaving it to her employees and sending the occasional note over, and never leaving her house for more than groceries for fear of Penny being around any corner.

However, even she could see this wasn't healthy. Her fear only grew worse, overwhelming her, days turning to weeks, turning to months, always alone and afraid. Finally, when she heard noises outside in her bins, she decided an act of bravery was needed. She was terrified, but she needed to prove she could do it. So she went out to investigate.

This resulted in a panic, some screaming, and scratches from a wild animal.

Rhianne returned to her home, heart racing and hurt. Not badly, but enough to sting. Which is when she had a revelation. The pain had broken the tension. Burst the bubble. She wasn't afraid. Not with the worst having happened, her heart racing and cuts burning.

And so, next time she found herself afraid, she tried to replicate this. She took some scissors and traced them on her skin. Pain granted her relief from her fears.

This relief soon became an indulgence, a masochistic pastime that she began to enjoy. It helped her escaped the terrifying reality of Meadowhurst. And who was she hurting, other than herself, of course?

But fantasies can run away with you.

Over the months, her indulgence continued, becoming close to an addiction, until one day she found herself fantasising. Daydreaming about a certain serial killer who could truly bring pain. A friend she had lost but that she still cared for. Penny.

While initially a little shocked at herself, she reasoned she still wasn't hurting anyone. Gradually, a new, twisted infatuation was born from that twisted seed. She even made a life sized ragdoll, an idol to heap her affections onto, out of fabric and thread. A doll to cuddle, made to look like Penny, which she called her Pretty Penny.

And her infatuation may have ended there, strange as it was... had she not received a very strange gift from Penny herself, alongside a note begging for her to keep it safe.

It was a human heart in a box.

But to Rhianne, it was her affections returned. Her crush reciprocated. Maybe it truly was love after all?

So she hid Penny's gift. She hid it inside Pretty Penny where no one would find it. And thus she waited, indulging in her reliefs, her masochism, hoping for the day the real Penny would find her again.

But she knows no one will understand. How far will she go to keep her secrets. How far will she go to keep Penny's gift hidden?

And is there perhaps more to Pretty Penny than meets the eye?

Rhianne knows she's likely gone mad, but it's better than facing the horrid reality her life has become. And when she faced with living dolls and nightmares, she embraces them, seeing them for the miracle she thinks they are. But even if these things are real, then that does not mean they wish her well. And the darkness of these horrors is only a short walk from her madness.

[ennoshitas-princess]

Chapter One: New Beginnings

Word Count: 952

The sun rises inside your window, illuminating the whole room with the warm sun's rays. This room was tidy and organized to your liking, decorated with some plush animals and stationery that you had set the night before for your bookbag. Beep, beep, beep. And there went your alarm clock, waking you up from the nice dream you were having. You stretch your arm out to turn it off and immediately get off from your soft, warm bed.

You go to your closet to look for the perfect outfit to wear on your first day of your junior year of high school. You search and search to find a cute (f/c) dress with little flowers. You grab it and find a white sweater with brown buttons to go with the dress.

You place the dress and sweater on the (f/c) bed and go inside the bathroom to brush your teeth and brush your hair. You tie your (h/c) locks up in a nice, neat bun.

(Note: if you have short hair just insert in you just brush your hair or in a ponytail)

You then walk out of the bathroom to your room and undress yourself. You look at the clothes on your bed and pull the dress over your head and put on the sweater. What was I thinking? I need a pair of shoes! You think to yourself.

You look back inside your closet to find a pair of matching flats to wear with your outfit. Now I am ready to go! I just need to put all the things inside my bookbag. You thought.

You put your notebooks, binder, folders, and pencil bag inside the (f/c) bag. You put a keychain on a zipper on your bookbag of your (favorite anything) and head downstairs.

You go in the kitchen and grab your lunch box and fill it with (favorite food), a fruit, chips, and a Lindt Chocolate inside. You put the box inside your bag and put in a water bottle because you have to keep yourself hydrated.

You grab the keys and head out of your house and walk to school. You lived nearby, so you didn't find it a problem to walk. The summer breeze blew past you, picking up your hair in the air. Leaves green as emeralds danced with each other constantly. The sun glowed a warm, brightness that was a blanket to every living thing. The sky was cloudless, with a bit of pink hue left as the sun was still rising.

You slowly proceed to the front gates of the high school you have been in since your first year. The brick walls are copper like color. The windows were reflecting off the sunshine. The grass was very green. Dandelions all over the emerald blanket on the ground. Some particles, like seeds or dust, were flying along with the birds as they chirped a tune to hum to.

As you enter through the big brown doors of your school, people start flipping their heads over to glance at you as if you have not been here. Freshmen were whispering, wondering who you were. Some girls glanced at you with disgust, others just admired you because they wanted to be just like you. Some boys were drooling at this point, others didn't fall for your charm thinking you were fake.

“Y/n!!” Screamed a voice from afar.You turn your head to find your best friend, Emiko Fujima. She, too, was just a beauty to this school. Both of you have been the greatest friends since day care. You two were paired up to play together because no one would approach her or you, so you became attached by your first conversation.

“Oh, hi Emiko!” You wave at her with a gentle smile.

“I know we hung out just a couple of weeks ago, but how was your summer break?” She asked.

“It was great. I got to sleep in, have time for myself, I got to read more, and I finished a project at home.” You clasp your hands together.

“What type of project?” Emiko wondered.

“An art project. I painted some of my favorite places in town.” You pull your phone out and show her pictures of the paintings you have made.

Each painting delicately danced on the canvas to make the colorful notes combine to make these beautiful masterpieces. One had beautiful flowers moving to the beat of the wind, trees were warming up with the yellow blanket. Another one had a warm welcoming glow from one of the town’s cafes, bringing joy and serenity from its comfort of soft couches and bean bags.

“These are beautiful y/n!” Emiko opened her locker to put some things in.

“Thanks! I wish I could have painted a few more though.” You look down in disappointment.

Last summer you managed to paint fifteen paintings of several places, but this year you managed to only paint ten. You had the urge to break the record.

“Cheer up y/n. Maybe next summer you will be able to break your record.” Emiko closed her locker and walked up to you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence along the hallways filled with life once more after summer vacation. This silence was soon broken by someone screaming out loud. “Hey, there is a fight happening over there!”

You and Emiko wondered who was involved. Both of your footsteps echoed along the corridor and found who was fighting. Your first guess was that the people fighting were trouble makers, but as soon as both of you made it to the scene, you saw none other than the usual. They were fighting, again.

Author's note: Thank you for reading the first chapter of my first fanfiction! I can't believe I am doing this. Next chapter might come out next week, until then thank you and I hope you will come and read the next chapter!

______________________________________________

All rights reserved copyright ©

ennoshitas-princess

Please DO NOT repost on any other platform!!

Reblogs are acceptable

[shiloh-rivera]

Hey, guys! I’m Katelyn, and this beauty, Rian! I’m excited to be here and to interact with a new-ish character as I explore this wonderful roleplay and this beautiful town that’s been created! I would love to plot with every single one of you. My discord is xADumbHuman#3145 if anyone wants to add me on there!

THE STATISTICS

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦

FULL LEGAL NAME: Shiloh Rian Rivera NICKNAME(s): Guppy (only by her dad), Dandelion (by her dad and her Uncle Jack), Ri AGE: 40 DATE OF BIRTH: April 28th SPECIES: Human ETHNICITY: French-Danish, Mexican-Indian, and Spanish (Google gives me all the facts) NATIONALITY: American LANGUAGES: Spanish, English, very little French GENDER: Cis-Female PRONOUNS: She/Her SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual BIRTH ORDER: Only Child (That she's aware of) HOMETOWN: Nightrest, Mass. CURRENT RESIDENCE: Low Point in Nightrest, Mass. EDUCATION: College; Bachelor's Degree OCCUPATION: Traveling Fisherman/Fish Merchant MARITAL STATUS: Divorced FAMILY: Franklin Rivera (Father) - deceased, Jack Gregory (Uncle)- in New York, Mother - Unknown RELATIONSHIPS: See connections. PETS: None currently. 𝗣𝗛𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗦

HEIGHT: 5'7" WEIGHT: 120 pounds. BODY TYPE: Fit, athletic build. EYE COLOR: Dark Brown HAIR COLOR: Dark Brown SCARS|MARKS: A scar behind her ear from falling on a rock as a child. FACIAL HAIR: None SIGNATURE SCENT: Coconut and Vanilla shampoo, body was, and Vanilla scented perfume TATTOOS: tbd PIERCINGS: Double ear piercing; belly button 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗜𝗔𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗦

PHOBIAS: N/A MENTAL DISEASES: N/A PHYSICAL DISEASES: N/A 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Ravenclaw PROMINENT TRAITS:  Adventurous, Scholarly, World Traveler, Food Critic FAVORITE FOODS: Veggie Straws, Chocolate Covered Strawberries, Vanilla Yogurt, Chocolate covered coconut bites, Tacos, a good meaty sandwich with all the toppings FAVORITE COLOR: Lavender, Dusty Blue MUSIC TASTE: She can go from Hannah Montana to Breaking Benjamin, she doesn't care. HOBBIES: reading, hiking, swimming, fishing, painting (though she's awful at it), sitting by a fire with a glass of wine. ZODIAC SIGN: Gemini LIKES: Lipstick shades in various colors, hiking boots even when the don't compliment an outfit, marking dates on a calendar and still not remembering them DISLIKES: Being alone, weather that's too cold, weather that's too hot

THE APPLICATION

was that SHILOH ‘RIAN’ RIVERA i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the FORTY year old who has been in nightrest for GREW UP HERE, BEEN BACK FOR ABOUT A YEAR IN TOTAL and works  as a TRAVELING FISHERMAN/FISH MERCHANT has a reputation of being LOYAL, but also DISTANT. they reside in LOW POINT & people in town usually associate them with RED LIPSTICK STAINED COFFEE CUPS, DISTANT MEMORIES FROM CHILDHOODS SPENT IN THE OUTDOORS, HIKING TRAILS COVERED IN THE FOOTPRINTS OF HER SHOES. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next.

THE HEADCANONS

Rian is a very outdoorsy person. She’s always loved anything that had to do with outdoors.

She was raised by a single father whose life revolved around his daughter and the light house that he’d been keeper of for most of his life. 

Rian has always wanted children, but never saw herself as a mother. She’s always been too dedicated in the lives of those around her to even consider it.

A true animal lover at heart, Rian has had more pets in her lifetime than she can count. It wasn’t unusual for her to bring a new animal home to her father as a surprise gift.

Rian has always loved birthdays. She’s the kind of person that would go above and beyond to make someone’s day special, even if they hated it. 

She doesn’t love often - a gift or a curse she’ll never really know - but when she does, she doesn’t give up on it easily. 

She made decent grades all throughout school. It wasn’t straight a’s, but that was never important to Rian. Good grades meant more to her than not. 

She loves Fall, and anything ‘fall flavored.’ To say she’s ‘addicted’ is an understatement. 

Her and her father had a running joke that they’d be in Nightrest their entire lives. That was only true for Franklin.

Rian loves hiking - as if it wasn’t obvious by her love of outdoors - and she would rather be outdoors hiking somewhere new anytime she can be than indoors.

THE SUMMARY

The following summary contains content that may be triggering. Grief, death, divorce and cancer are all themes mentioned below! Please proceed with caution.

Rian grew up in Nightrest. Her god-father - who she calls ‘Uncle Jack’ - took over the lighthouse keeper job when Rian’s dad passed away several years ago, before he retired just within the past two years. However, a few months ago he and Rian started traveling in a way to grieve and process - having nothing to do really started making him see things differently - and he is now living in New York. Rian has recently moved back to Nightrest, after moving away seventeen years ago at twenty three to move in with her husband Patrick. The two are now divorced and although she’s still grieving the death of her father (not quite as much but definitely still grieving), Rian feels like being in Nightrest where she grew up was the best thing she could’ve ever done for herself and she’s more than happy to be back. 

[bakingpleasures]

4 Adorable Baby Shower Cupcake Ideas

One of the most delightful things one can consider using when having a baby shower party is the baby shower cupcakes, which are tasty and also can help enhance the beauty of the occasion. These cupcakes can add more charm to the event, whether they come in cute designs or delightful decorations. Here in this blog, I am going to share four cute and simple to make baby shower cupcake ideas that will make your guests. These tips will assist you in coming up with perfect cupcakes, even if you are new to cake decorating using basic cake decorating supplies.

1. Baby Booties Cupcakes

Cupcakes are a favorite edible that can still be made to have a cute theme; baby booties cupcakes are a good example. To make these cute little things, you’ll need cupcake liners, fondant, and piping tips. Begin with the cupcake flavor of your choice and allow it to cool. Then, using fondant of a different color, make baby booties. Another type of filling is fondant; you can paint it in pastel colors such as pink, blue or yellow in accordance with the chosen topic. This can be done with a piping bag outfitted with a small round tip to create details such as laces or bows. Cement this look with a light swirl of buttercream icing, and then place the fondant booties on top. These cupcakes not only look lovely, but they can also be used as the centerpiece for the dessert table.

2. Stork and Baby Cupcakes

Stork and baby cupcakes can be used when there is a newborn in the family to signify the new birth. Regarding this idea, you can make your own stork and baby figures and use edible cake supplies brisbane toppers. Begin with frosted cupcakes in a foggier manner, and then put the stork topper holding a baby basket on it. It is also possible to draw clouds or stars on the cake with candy melts or sprinkles for the fairy tale look. If you are in Brisbane, visit the store or browse for baking supplies online equipment and cake supplies in Brisbane from online shops. Another plus of this design is that it is cute and gives the event a storybook look.

3. Baby Onesie Cupcakes

Another fun and easy idea can be to bake cupcakes and design them as onesie babies. Using fondant, you can make small onesie shapes and then adorn them with buttons, bows or polka dots. To make them uniform, you can use a silicone mold, or you can cut them roughly. After the fondant onesies are decorated, they need to be placed over frosted cupcakes. When it comes to the colors, you might want to stick to pastels as they will complement the theme of the baby shower.

4. Teddy Bear Cupcakes

Teddy bear cupcakes are favorite for any baby shower event. For these, piping tips shall be required to pipe the bear face on the cupcakes. For the bear’s head and ears, make a small round tip to pipe brown buttercream icing. Next, you should draw the eyes, nose, and mouth using a tiny tip of the brush. For the eyes and the nose, you can also use cake decorating supplies such as chocolate chips or candy. If desired, add a touch of elegance to the bear by placing a small fondant/candy bow around the bear’s neck. As for these cupcakes, they are not only adorable but also add a sweet note to the event.

Conclusion

Organizing baby shower cupcakes is one of the tasteful ways of welcoming the new baby into the world. When it comes to the designs, they are all cute and will complement the occasion regardless of whether it is baby booties, stork and baby, baby onesie, or teddy bear cupcakes. Here at Baking Pleasures, we are pleased to present you with the following baking products to bring all these concepts to life. You can find all the cake decorating supplies Brisbane and baking supplies online to ensure that your baby shower is as special as it can be

[reyettaclaven]

The prevalence of AI is so depressing, honestly.

Can I vent for a second?

I saw a post on a photo of a stupid AI-generated dinosaur-croissant saying something to the effect of, "AI won. Nothing can ever be impressive again." I've been chewing on that for a while. They're right, in a sense.

You know that dinosaur croissant isn't real, but maybe you can spend some time making something real. You do some trial and error and figure out you can make something that kind of looks like a little croissant-snail, with chocolate chips for eyes. It's lumpy, and imperfect, and the top of the shell got a little toastier than you would have liked, but you're proud of your work. You post it online. But anyone who believed the dinosaur-croissant was real can really only compare the two: your lumpy, bumpy, burnt kind-of-snail that you snapped with your phone at 10pm, to their glossy, perfectly layered and golden brown, majestic obvious-dinosaur with a pixel-perfect depth of field and the gentle glow of the morning sun shining through an interior-design-magazine's kitchen beyond.

That beautiful view you snapped a photo of while on your hike, the art you spent a week working on and years perfecting the style of, your pet with the cute marking that looks a little like a heart from the right angle, the video clip of you nailing a bottle flip into a cup that you spent hours practicing... it can be, and will be, and probably already has been, outshined by something someone made by typing ten words in a box and waiting a few seconds, that they can share with the whole world just as quickly. With AI becoming less and less visually flawed, it will be that much harder to distinguish that manufactured thing from reality, and that much easier to compare the two as though they are of the same cloth.

We all have ideas for things we think are brilliant, or clever, or worth bringing to life in some way in the moment we come up with them. How many of those ideas held enough water to make it to your thoughts again the next day, the next week? How many get real steps and effort towards coming into being? To being made into something real that can be recited, read, viewed, eaten, played, or used? In the age of AI, any of those ideas can be realized instantly with a few keystrokes. Sure, it can't make physical objects yet, but it can make poetry, and books, and things that pass as art, and things that pass as photos of physical objects. And in today's world, a picture of your finished work is worth more than the time spent making it.

Each of those fleeting ideas need not be seen to completion, because with the touch of a button, they can be artificially manufactured for a hit of instant dopamine and validation before you move to the next. You need not actually be clever. The machine will think for you. You need not practice your skills in baking, or sculpting, or painting. The machine takes the hard work out of the equation, and with it, your chance at learning such skills yourself, to use in your own life, to impress and delight the people around you.

Eventually, I feel as though we will grow tired of the novelty. AI is compared to reality, until reality stops trying to compete. Then, AI can only be compared to other AI creations. When everything is awash with impossible shapes and colors, and seeing a croissant perfectly shaped and posed like a dinosaur is no longer novel, you can't go back from that. You can't unsee that. The novelty will fade, and then where do we go?

The purpose of automation was supposed to be to make our lives easier. It was supposed to take the dirty, dangerous, and boring tasks away from us so we had more time and energy to do the things we enjoy. Crafting, painting, writing, expressing what makes us happy humans. But the AI to replace the creatives came first, and we're still waiting on the robot that will dig the ditches.

[jqui62]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: L’Artistie by Spring Step Anchor Booties.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Closing Time (Johnny Utah x fem!reader)

Summary: You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy tims happen.

Pairing: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Author’s Notes: So I’m slowly getting back to writing. I’m not gonna say I’m fully back just yet, but for this week at least, there will be content! Huge thanks to @toomanystoriessolittletime and @meetmeinthematinee​ for being cheerleaders and giving me early feedback on this! 

Wordcount: 3125

Warnings: smut. oral sex (F! receiving); dirty talk; unprotected sex with strangers (don’t do this kids!); sex in inappropriate places.

Most days you quite enjoyed it when there was barely any movement at the store. It gave you the opportunity of just being by yourself, reading a book, or enjoying some music or studying for college, things that you didn’t always have the privacy of doing at your dorm because your roommate seemed to always be around. Even during the summer and what was up with that? Didn’t she have better things to do?

She wasn’t like you, who actually had to work to put yourself through college and took some extra jobs during the summer so you could have some savings for the following term when all you managed to get were part-time jobs that you had fit in between classes and paid shit.

Fortunately, at the shop, you had some peace and time for yourself. It was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall sort of place around Venice Beach where tourists could get some shirts and other knickknacks to take back home and locals surfers could find cheap clothing and supplies for a day out on the beach. Most days, you worked from 9-5 and after your shift, you could head to the beach, spread your towel on the sand and enjoy the gorgeous Californian sunset. However, as the summer winded out and the fall winds blew the scalding hot weather into simmering heat, your boss let you close a little early, especially on Tuesdays, when most tourists had already headed home and the new arrivals hadn’t landed yet so there were barely any customers around.

Your plan today had been to finish your reading for class and start the new crime thriller you picked up at the used books store on your way to work. Except, today you were just too restless to focus. You must have reread the same paragraph of your textbook twenty times before you gave up and set it aside, giving the other book a go, but it was just as unsuccessful at holding your attention.

So instead, you moved around the cramped space, adjusting the decoration items, dusting off shelves, and refolding every single shirt in the display until it was perfectly symmetrical while you willed time to move faster so you could end this day. Maybe it was the heatwave that had made an appearance turning the air in the shop stifling and all you had to help you was an old and slow fan that made more noise than blow air. The A/C was busted and your boss still hadn’t called someone to fix it.

Another possibility was the fact that you had to keep the glass doors opened to help circulate a little air and every time any kind of wind blew or someone walked in, it brought with them the crisp smell of salt and sand that always made you ache for the ocean and fight against the temptation of just abandoning everything and heading for the beach so you could cool off taking a dip in the deliciously cold water. Either way, you kept checking the slow ticking of the clock hands, counting the seconds before you could turn the closed sign.

When the minute hand finally hit twelve, you let out a cheer, jumping off your stool and taking a step towards the door. You always locked the doors first to discourage most last-minute walk-ins while you closed the register, put away the money in the back office safe, and slipped out of the store through the back door, taking any garbage with you to throw in the dumpster outside.

Before you could move from behind the counter, a man stepped into the store and you groaned low in your throat. Of-fucking-course! It was like they stood in wait to come in at the precise moment you were about to head out.

“Hey, you’re still open, right?” He asked, pushing the overgrown dark hair back from his forehead and offering you an unsure smile. You felt the urge to lie and say that no, you were closed and he should come back tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You said instead placing your best and most fake seller’s smile. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks!” He replied, flashing a wider smile that showed a small dimple, before moving towards the shirts in the display while you made your way to the main entrance, flipped the sign, and locked the door to bar any other walk-ins.

You hung back while the guy browsed the options, taking a moment to assess him. He didn’t look like a tourist, but also not fully like a local. Most Californian guys that you knew had the most horrifying hair cuts or bleach jobs you had ever seen and that was not the case for the man in front of you.

His hair was dark brown, a little shaggy from too much exposure to sun and salt and it flopped a little over his forehead, just above his eyes. He wore a grey cropped t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and struggled to contain his broad shoulders, showing a peek of toned abs. His jeans were ridiculously tight and hung low on his slender hips, the light-wash of the denim accentuating the perfect bubble butt and for the love of God, you needed to get laid. Badly.

“Excuse me,” he called, startling you and you prayed he hadn’t noticed the way you were checking his ass just now. “Do you have this one in black?”

“Yeah, sure.” You moved towards the drawers. “What’s your usual size? Medium or large?”

“I think large should be good,” he replied and when you turned around with the requested shirt, he was just standing there, barechested, his top hanging from his shoulder and you hoped your gasp wasn’t as loud as it sounded in your head.

“Here you go,” you croaked, offering him the shirt. “We do have a fitting room…” you gestured towards the small cubicle to the rear of the store.

“Oh right!” He glanced over as he pulled the shirt on. “Do you mind if I try them out here, though?”

“Not at all,” you forced your voice to sound somewhat normal.

“Awesome!”

Damn! He wasn’t just fucking hot. He was also cute, the wide grin he just flashed giving him a boyish look that was only enhanced by the almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes. Biting your lip, you watched as he turned side to side in front of the mirror, checking himself out.

“It think is a little too big,” he said, meeting your gaze. “What do you think?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat and moved closer so you could look at him through the mirror. “If you want it more fitted, then yeah, probably a smaller size would be best. Want me to get it?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Once again, by the time you turned back to him, he was shirtless, the garment he had just tried neatly folded and resting on the shelf as he took a look at some other shirts, his attention snapping at you when he noticed you coming closer to hand him the new shirt, giving you a glimpse of a pale, sunken scar running down his abs that stopped just above his belly button and that drew attention to the small trail of fine dark hairs that disappeared under the waist of his jeans and holy shit! He was bare beneath those jeans.

“Bike accident,” he commented as he took the shirt that you offered and you met his eyes in confusion.

“What?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“The scar,” he clarified, putting on the shirt and his lips were tilted into a slight smirk. “That was what you were staring at, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, feeling your face burning. “I’ll just head to the register and give you some privacy.”

I don’t mind,” he shrugged, turning to the mirror. “This is better. What do you think?” He turned towards you, giving you a full view of the cotton fabric covering his muscles, looking almost as if painted on him.

“Sure...” you swallowed hard, trying not to stare. “If you prefer it more fitted...”

“I do,” pulling the shirt off and once again giving you the glorious view of his torso. “I’ll take it.”

You took the shirt to the register and he followed, pausing only to pick up his own, which he had discarded on a nearby hanger. You were expecting him to put it back on, but he just threw it over his shoulder, reaching for his wallet as you registered the sale and tried not to stare.

“Is that the only camera you have around here?” He asked, gesturing to a point above your left and you glanced at the object before nodding, exchanging the money he gave you for the paper bag with his purchase.

“Yeah, why?”

“So basically...” he started, taking a step to the side, closer to the fitting room. “I’m completely out of sight over here?”

“Basically, yeah,” you frowned a little, stepping away from the counter. “Why? Are you planning to rob the place? Because let me tell you, there’s not much worth...” You trailed off with a surprised squeak as he tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the blindspot and nearly pressed against his strong chest.

“Because honestly, I never really gave a fuck about the shirt. I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask your number when I walked in, but you looked kind pissed so I got cold feet,” he confessed with a rueful smile.

“So you decided to just get mostly naked in front of me?” You snorted, shaking your head and he shrugged.

“Needed to make sure you might be interested and considering the way you were eyeing me earlier, it looked like you saw something you liked.”

“You’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at him, not ready to concede just yet. Even if the heat of his body and the smell of sea breeze whiffing off his skin were driving you crazy.

“Only when I’m right,” he flashed you a lopsided smirk and just waited, gazing into your eyes, making it clear that the next step was yours.

Part of you screamed that it was crazy to even consider hooking up with a guy that just walked into your store, no matter how hot he was, but it had been a ridiculously long time since you last had sex and he was so fucking hot, the scent of his golden skin intoxicating and his heat was making you dizzy with want as you looked him up and down, noticing the volume pressing against the denim of his pants.

“We might not have cameras, but the windows are see-through, so get your ass to the fitting room while I finish closing up.”

He flashed a victorious smirk and nodded, heading towards the back while you rushed through the steps of securing the store before joining him.

Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you made your way towards the back, pushing away the curtain that blocked the small space of the fitting room and finding him perched on the low stool that you kept there so customers could put down their things, facing the full-length mirror, legs spread, jeans undone, revealing the bush of dark hairs surrounding his long and thick cock.

You nearly whimpered at the sight, your center pulsing in want as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he run his left hand up and down his shaft, head tilted back, breathing hard, eyes hooded. He was such a beautiful and debauched sight that you felt the urge to photograph him, capture that sensuality.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours through the reflective surface.

“You seemed to be doing fine on your own,” you teased stepping into the tight space, fingers itching to touch all that glorious skin.

“I did not just spend most of my afternoon at the corner diner, drinking burned coffee just to jerk off in front of you,” he declared, standing up and turning your way.

“Ohhh, so this was premeditated?” You asked, kicking off your sneakers as he reached for you and you stumbled against his chest.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted, large hand hot against your hips and you wanted to feel it against your flesh. “You probably don’t remember, but I was here last week and you had to bend over to get something from one of the lower drawers...” he let out a soft groan, hands moving to your ass and squeezing lightly. “Fuck! I don’t think I ever popped a boner so fast in my life. I had to get out.”

You vaguely remembered that. There was so much coming and going in this place, it was hard to keep track of faces, but customers just taking off after asking to see something usually caused an impression. If you weren’t about to get fucked after six months, you would be more pissed.

“So you decided to come back when I was alone and seduce me?” you asked, running your hands over his chest and abs, scratching it slightly and goosebumps rose in his skin as he hissed.

“Yeah,” he spoke in a low voice as his hands move to the button of your jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he slid your fly down and your breath caught in your throat. “I thought about bending you over that counter and fucking you until you’re screaming.” His fingers skimmed over your cunt, just a soft touch, but you gasped and arched your hips forward, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. “I thought about it eating your pussy and your ass until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

Those words were whispered right against your ear, before he changed your positions, crowding you against the mirror and pushing your jeans down to your thighs before he once against skimmed his fingers over covered sex, making you ache for him.

“What do you think about that?” He asked, lips brushing your cheek in an almost chaste kiss, completely opposed to the lewdness of his hand exploring your cunt. “Do you want it?”

“If you’re as good with your tongue at eating pussy like you are at talking dirty, then I maybe I do,” you declared, tired of his teasing and you felt his smirk as he gracefully slid to his knees in front of you.

You didn’t manage to get another word out before he shoved your panties down to join your jeans and his lips firmly connected to your clit. He gave it a sharp suck and you groaned, burying your fingers into his hair to keep yourself on your feet as your brain short-circuited and your knees turned to jelly.

He was very good at eating you out, especially because he was very attentive to every sound you made, every tightening of your grip on his hair, and roll of your hips to nudge him into going faster or slower, harder or softer... It wasn’t long before he reached that perfect alternation of fast flickering against your clit and slower and broad strokes of his tongue over your entrance and lips, a combination that drove you crazy.

You were whimpering and moaning, legs quaking with the alternating urge to close them around his face to keep him trapped there pleasuring you forever or spreading them wider so he could have more space to work, but the edges of your jeans were digging into the lower part of your knees, signaling you that that was as far as they could go.

As if reading your thoughts or maybe he just realized he would need more room, he shoved your pants down and helped you to kick them off so you could be completely free of the garment. And didn’t you two looked like a mismatched pair, with you standing there wearing only your top while he knelt in front of you, his jeans still on.

Once your pants were off, he hooked your right thigh over his shoulder, pressing his mouth even harder against your cunt, flickering his tongue over your clit before dipping it in between your lips, gathering the juices soaking your sex like a starved man.

“Fuck! I’m so close...” you hissed, rolling your hips, seeking more because that tight knot deep inside you was about to snap and from the way you ached and shuddered, your muscles tensing, you knew it would be a hard one.

“Yeah?” He mumbled against your core, his breath against your overheated skin making you shiver as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Gonna cum all over my mouth?”

He pistoled his fingers in and out at a fast pace, crooking inwards with every down motion, his tongue matching his rhythm against your clit and it was that made you snap as you bit down on your fist to stop yourself from shouting as your body was flooded with pleasure and all you knew was the unbelievable bliss that surrounded you. Stars bust behind your closed lids, the air came out of your lungs in short gushes as you fought hard not to slide down to the ground because your legs felt like jelly.

“Ok?” he asked, making you finally snap your eyes open to look at him.

He was sitting on his heels, face still glistening with your orgasm, his lips swollen and red from the abuse. His cock was rock hard, red, and leaking and you really wanted to return the favor.

“Way better than ok,” you replied with a gasp. “My turn?” To your surprise, he shook his head and got to his feet.

“Tonight, the only place I’m cumming is in that pussy,” he announced against your ear and shivered with anticipation. “So let’s get out of this fucking store and go to my place?”

“Fuck yes!” you grinned breathlessly at him as you reached for your jeans and he buttoned his over his hard cock and that couldn’t be comfortable.

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he said. “Johnny Utah. Just in case you want to know what to shout when I fuck your brains out later.”

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky smirk and moved closer to him, once fully clothed, the only evidence of your recent climax was the sweat cooling on your skin and the stupid grin that refused to leave your face.

“I think I like you more when your mouth is busy with something other than talking,” you declared and before Johnny could manage a reply, you silenced him with a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue.

xxx

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[messers-moony]

Devotion: Chapter Two | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader (Series)

Summary: In which the Hargreeves siblings come together to stop the end of the world. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Umbrella Academy. All rights go to the creators of the show, the comics and everyone in between. Gifs used in these chapters are NOT mine and are/were found on Pinterest. 

Warnings: Cursing, Sex, Nudity, Violence, Gore, Alcohol, Drugs, Smoking, Intense Scenes, and Abuse (if I missed any let me know)

—Mysterious Man

❝Next time, I won’t miss.❞

The courtyard looked dead. Most of the grass had been turned black, and the bricks had moss all over them. The sky was grey and gloomy. A giant sapphire ball of electricity was in front of the doors to the courtyard. It crackled and popped repeatedly. 

When Y/n reached the doors and pulled them open, her siblings were already there, “What is it?” Vanya queried. 

“Don’t get too close!” Allison shouted; Y/n rolled her eyes, “Yeah, no shit.”

The siblings all huddled together in the corner of the courtyard. Luther and Diego were in the front. Allison had her hand on Luther’s arm. Y/n was on the right of Diego, and Vanya was to her left. Y/n grabbed Diego’s arm. The wind was strong. 

“Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two.” Luther stated with an intense stare. 

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan.”

“Out of the way!” Klaus exclaimed as he busted through the double doors to the courtyard with a fire extinguisher. 

“What are you-“ Klaus threw the extinguisher into the blue anomaly. 

“What is that gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a better idea?”

The blue electric sphere continued to static, crackle, and pop. Luther grabbed Klaus hastily, pushing him behind the rest. Klaus ended up behind Vanya, watching cluelessly. Y/n gripped tighter as her stare got more intense, more familiar. 

“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa. Everybody get behind me.” 

“Yeah, get behind us.”

“I vote for running, c’mon!” 

The crackling was the only sound that echoed. Soon enough, the siblings could make out a figure coming from the anomaly. The figure fell to the ground. He was wearing a black and white suit. His hair was windswept and a dark chocolate brown. His skin was pristine and jawline sharp. 

“Does anyone else see Little Number Five, or is that just me?”

Little Number Five glanced around. His eyes were a beautiful shade of jade, and his eyes looked down at his clothes which felt loose. His black blazer was two sizes too big, and his pants were falling from his waist. His white button-up shirt was down to his knees. He let out a sigh. 

“Shit.”

Number Five pushed past his siblings into the mansion. Y/n was the first to follow him and the others followed close behind. She followed him until they reached the kitchen, where he began to look around. The kitchen was very dull and had a table in the center of the room with four chairs. The room was painted a sage green and tile flooring. 

Vanya and Luther sat at the table. Diego and Allison stood behind them while Klaus sat at the end of the table. Five stood at the other end of the table, staring at them. Y/n sat on a countertop, watching him intently. Five moved quickly to grab a loaf of bread and set it beside him. 

“What’s the date?” Five asked, “The exact date.”

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

Five twisted the loaf of bread open, “So, are we gonna talk about just what happened?” Luther queried. 

Y/n watched as Five continued to move to make a sandwich, “It’s been 17 years.”

“It’s been a lot longer than that.” Five scoffed, matter-of-factly. 

Five spatial jumped in a blue blur from in front of Luther to behind him. It seems as if the boy didn’t care what his siblings thought. Y/n watched as Five moved quickly and with purpose. But she also knew that Luther wouldn’t give up as he muttered something beneath his breath. 

“Where’d you go?” 

“The future.” Five spatial jumped back, “It’s shit, by the way.”

Five had placed his marshmallows from the counter onto the table beside him, “Called it!”

“Why is that a good thing?” Y/n asked, and Klaus shrugged, “Fuck me.” 

“I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing.” Five stated as he opened the fridge to find some peanut butter. 

When he grabbed the peanut butter, he went back to the front of the table, “Jumping through time is a toss of the dice.”

Five opened the jaw of peanut butter and began spreading it on his sandwich, “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, Danke!” Klaus smiled happily. 

“Wait, how did you get back?” Vanya questioned, eyebrows furrowed. 

“In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Well, it would if you were smarter.”

Luther stood up but was quickly stopped by Diego, “How long were you there?”

“Forty-Five years. Give or take.”

Y/n snorted, “Damn, you’re an old son of a bitch.”

“Precisely.” 

Luther fell back into his seat, and Diego stared in disbelief, “So what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

“My conscience is 58, apparently my body is 13 again.” 

Five turned to Y/n, “And what about you, Number Eight. How old are you?” 

“I’m thirty, asshole.”

Five eyed her skeptically, “Wait, how does that even work?”

“Delores kept saying the equations were off. Eh. Bet she’s laughing now.” Five replied to Vanya, eating his fluff sandwich. 

“Delores?”

Number Five picked up the newspaper; he read the headline, “Guess I missed the funeral.” 

“How’d you even know about that?”

“What part of the future do you not understand?” The newspaper hit the wooden table with a swish. 

“Heart failure, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

Five clicked his tongue, “Nice to see nothings changed.” 

Y/n watched as he exited the kitchen to the rest of the house. His pants were trying to fall to his ankles, and his blazer was dropping off his shoulders. She narrowed her eyes at his figure that was slowly trailing away. 

Allison yelled from the kitchen, “Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“What else is there to say? It’s the circle of life.” Five yelled back. 

“Well, that was interesting.”

Y/n sighed as she kicked her legs out, hitting the cabinet with a clang. Her boots were heavy, and she could feel the gravity pulling them down. Her pants and shirt were hanging loose from her body. Her clothes were all black for the funeral happening soon. 

She watched as the others slowly left the kitchen except for Diego, who flopped down in Luther’s vacant seat. He twirled a knife with its tip on the table. Y/n snapped a hair tie on her wrist. 

“This is probably the most eventful day I’ve had in seventeen years.” 

Diego scoffed, “He’s an asshole. Nothing changed.”

“He wasn’t always an asshole, you know?” Y/n replied, crossing her arms, “Something happened while he was gone.”

“Oh yeah?” Diego queried, “What are you? Sherlock Holmes?” 

“Dicktwit.” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. 

Along with Pogo and Grace, their mother, the six siblings stood in a half-circle in the rainy courtyard. Many of them had umbrellas aside for Luther, Diego, and Y/n. Klaus had a very odd transparent umbrella with a hot pink ring around the end. Y/n was redirecting the rain from touching her. 

“Did something happen?” Grace asked in a light tone. 

“Dad died. Remember?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

Allison turned to Diego, “Is Mom okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.” He answered. 

“Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.” Pogo smiled, taking a step forward. 

Luther took the urn and screwed off the top. He flipped the pot over. The ashes fell into a pile directly where he turned the jar. Without wind, the ashes lie in a heap on top of the soil in the courtyard. The Hargreeves cringed. 

“Probably would have been better with some wind,” Luther commented. 

“Does anyone wish to speak?” Pogo questioned, observing the six adults. 

No one spoke up, “Very well. In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master, and my friend, and I shall miss him very much. He leaves behind a complicated legacy-“

“He was a monster.” Diego snapped, “He was a bad person and a worse father. The worlds better off without him.”

“Diego.” 

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it.”

“Would anyone like something to eat?” Grace asked, her voice dreamy and eyes cloudy. 

Vanya was quick to soothe, “No, it’s okay, Mom.”

“Oh, okay.”

Diego began to step toward Luther, “Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.”

“You should stop talking now.”

“You know, you two of all people should be on my side here, Number One.”

“I am warning you.”

“After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away.”

“Diego, stop talking.”

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!” Diego shouted, pointing at Luther’s chest. 

That was Luther’s breaking point. Luther swung his fist, and Diego dodged. It continued. Both boys punching and dodging, “Boys, stop this at once!”

Klaus began to move back along with Y/n and Five. He put his arms out in front of their chests, and Five quickly slapped it away. Y/n still stood looking at the two boys, her eyes narrowed. The rain was still going around her like a sphere of protection. 

Luther hit Diego’s back hard, potentially causing bruises, almost making Diego lose his balance, “Come on, big boy!”

Luther’s fist aimed at Diego’s face, but he dodged quickly, and Diego began to repeatedly punch at Luther’s back, “Stop it!”

“Hit him! Hit him!”

Number One went to throw another punch, but Diego dodged once more. Diego managed to punch Luther twice before Pogo went inside, scoffing at the two immature boys. Luther pushed Diego backward, holding onto his shirt. Diego was thrown onto the ground. After a punch and kick to the chest, Luther grabbed hold of Diego. 

Diego was squirming in his grip, “Get off me!”

Hastily, Diego got out of Luther’s grip. Diego punched Luther, “We don’t have time for this.” 

Five walked back inside as the other two continued to fight. Y/n continued to watch as they threw and kicked each other like little boys. It was highly immature. The rain continued to fall around her like a shield. Not a hair on her head was wet. 

What grabbed her attention was when Ben’s statue fell to the ground, the head rolling on the dirt, “Oh….”

“And there goes Ben’s statue.”

Diego pulled a knife from his belt and threw it at Luther, “Diego, no!”

Luther began to walk forward as the knife was flying through the air. It stopped just a centimeter from Luther’s arm. The knife fell into the wet soil. Y/n quietly walked toward the blade and pulled it from the mushy ground. She stuffed it into her pocket. 

“Next time, I won’t miss.”

She trailed into the house. Luther followed close behind her. Y/n sighed as the warm air of the house hit her like a warm sunny day. After entering the kitchen, she went into the foyer and began to go up the steps. Her journey upstairs wasn’t a long one. When she walked into her bedroom, she approached the dresser. Inside she found a familiar green jumpsuit. 

“Nietzsche once said, ‘Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman. A rope over an abyss.“ 

The seven Hargreeves children were at the bottom of a spiral staircase awaiting their signal to start. They were dressed in emerald green jumpsuits, bundled in a small area at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Reginald and Vanya stood at the top. Reginald held his book with all his notes with his pen ready. 

“It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling, and halting.“ 

Reginald gave Vanya the okay to blow the start signal, a whistle. The children sprinted up the staircase. Y/n watched as Luther took the lead up the spiral staircase. 

“As much as you must for individual greatness, and strive you must, for it won’t come to you of its own accord... you must also remember that there is no individual stronger than the collective.“

Y/n ran slower than the rest, trying to save her energy for the end of the climb. Her movements were swift. She moved like the wind, soundlessly and gentle yet harsh. She watched as Diego passed Luther and Five spatial jumped steps ahead of them. 

“That’s not fair. Five’s cheating!“ Diego whined, continuing to climb the steps. 

“He adapted.“ Reginald said sternly, looking down at the incredible seven children. 

Y/n felt the dry-fit material in her hand. It was always so scratchy on her skin. Maybe she had sensitive skin, but she never liked their uniforms. Y/n threw off her black clothes and put on something more comfortable. She tucked her hair behind her ears and laid on her bed. Allowing her hand against gravity, she saw the black bleeding ink forced upon her wrist—an umbrella, a logo, and an inscription that she would always be owned. 

“The ties that bind you together make you stronger than you are alone.“ 

Y/n had been notified to come to the foyer around dinner time. Quickly she got up from her bed and tucked her hair behind her ears. Y/n grabbed her blazer from around her chair and put it around her shoulders. Suddenly, her neck felt itchy. 

When she arrived downstairs, she saw the rest of her household mates already there. Y/n also noticed a man sitting beside a chair with some material in his hand. It looked like a tattoo gun ready to be placed on someone’s skin. 

“They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you.“ 

Reginald placed the children into a row of chairs. Klaus went first, and Y/n watched as the needle embedded his skin, making him squirm in the chair. Not long after, Allison was next, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Y/n watched the tattoo artist replicate the same umbrella on Allison’s wrist in a circle. 

Diego was next. He reluctantly sat onto the chair as the man began to embed the needle into his skin. Allison was crying, holding onto her wrist with Klaus embracing her tightly. Y/n wondered when they ever became so close. Before this, she had never seen them interact. 

Luther, Ben, Five, and Y/n sat in chairs, waiting their turn. Y/n rolled her neck, allowing the cracks to echo in the room. The air was tense, weighing down on Y/n’s shoulders like boulders. Five’s knee was repeatedly bouncing beside her. Y/n sat calmly, her back in perfect posture, and watched intently. 

“And believe me when I tell you, life will be hard. It will be painful.“ 

Sleeping in the Hargreeves Manor was always a relief. It felt like a breath of fresh air after a mission to be allowed to collapse on an excellent comfy mattress. Y/n could always feel the energy draining from her body when she used too much power at once. Sometimes she collapsed on missions, which led to extreme punishment. Someone always carried her home. She never knew who. 

“We can accomplish anything when we accept responsibility together.“

Reginald Hargreeves was never a good man. He never had good intentions. These children were science experiments. Reginald sat beside his beloved Number Eight, observing as her chest moved up and down in a rhythmic motion. Her hair was sprayed across the fluffy white pillow. 

“This is what creates trust.“ 

He placed a sticker on her temple that connected to multiple wires. Those wires eventually led to the computer in his office, allowing him to track the children’s brain waves. Reginald sat so close to Number Eight he could feel her breathing against his leg. 

“Together, you will stand against the reign of evil.“ 

Without a second thought, the man got up and left the bedroom. He closed the door quietly, not wanting to wake up the susceptible child, and walked back to his office, where he began to take notes. Eventually, a loud beeping began to sound, and Reginald wrote until his hand was tired. 

She heard movement from outside her door and waited a moment before following it. Y/n opened the door and closed it quietly behind her as she followed the noise down to the kitchen. When she made it down to the dull-looking room, she saw Klaus and Five. Y/n thought it must’ve been Five she was following. She took a seat on the same counter as earlier. 

Five began to shuffle through cabinets, cupboards, and drawers, searching for something. Klaus looked just as clueless as what Five was searching for. Then Y/n heard heels clicking and clanking their way into the tile-floored kitchen, where they echoed twice as loud. 

“Where’s Vanya?” Allison queried as she set her jacket down. 

Klaus held the guitar tighter, “She’s gone.”

Five held up an old coffee pot, “That’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah.”

“An entire square black. Forty-two bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.”

“Dad hated caffeine.”

Klaus snorted, “Well, he hated children, too, and he had plenty of us.”

“I’m taking the car.” Five informed as he began to walk out of the room. 

“Where are you going?”

Y/n hopped off the counter with a thud, “He’s going to get a cup of coffee.”

“Do you even know how to drive?” Allison crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at Five. 

“I know how to do everything.” Five spat at he spatial jumped out of the room. 

Y/n sighed, “I’m gonna kill him one day.”

She began to sprint out of the kitchen and ran up the steps. Her boots were making unnecessary noise, but she couldn’t care less. Her jacket was flickering as she flung herself threw the door as Five turned the engine. Y/n flung the passenger door open and jumped into the seat. 

Neither of them spoke a word as Y/n clicked her seatbelt in, and Five pressed the gas. Y/n began to fiddle with the watch on her right arm. The streets were empty, and it was still drizzling outside, but Five drove seamlessly. It almost seemed as if Five was driving extra carefully. Y/n didn’t speak as they pulled up to Griddy’s Doughnuts. 

A man held the door open for them, and Y/n gave him her thanks as Five jumped to sit at the counter despite the bakery being empty. The inside was entirely pink, with images of pastries on the wall. The floor was checkerboard tile, and the lights were fluorescent white. Y/n took a seat on Five’s right as another man sat on Five’s left. 

He was a medium-sized male wearing a hat and pulling a newspaper from his jacket. He exhaled loudly and began to do a crossword. The man waited patiently for service as Five had already tapped the bell twice. His leg started to bounce when an older woman came out to the bar wearing a bright pink uniform. 

“Sorry, the sink was clogged.” The waitress chuckled lightly as she took out a pen and paper, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Uh, give me a chocolate éclair.” The man doing the crossword replied. 

“Mm-Hmm. Sure.” The waitress turned to Five and Y/n, “Can I get the kids a glass of milk or something?”

Five scoffed, “The kid wants coffee. Black.”

“I will also take one, please,” Y/n added. 

“Cute kids.” The waitress smiled, tucking away her notebook. 

Y/n watched as Five gave a very toothy smile to the woman. The waitress fluttered off into the kitchen to begin making their orders. The smell of coffee wafted through the bakery, making Y/n smile at the familiar scent. She could remember the number of smiles at this bakery when she was a little girl. 

“Don’t remember this place being such a shithole.” Five stated, “I used to come here as a kid. Used to sneak out with my brothers and sisters and eat doughnuts till we puked. Simpler times, huh?”

“Eh. I suppose.”

The waitress returned with two coffee mugs and a plate with an eclair on top. The mugs clinked together as she set them in front of the two adolescents. She placed the plate in front of the older man doing the crossword with a gentle, “Here.” 

“I got there’s.” The man placed cash on the bar, and Five gave a halfhearted, “Thanks.”

Y/n sipped her coffee as Five began talking to the older man again, “You must know your way around the city.”

“I hope so. I’ve been driving it for 20 years.”

Y/n didn’t know if that was something to be proud of or not, “Good. I need an address.”

Five asked for an address to a department store called Gimble Brothers. Y/n didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just continued to drink the coffee placed in front of her. She allowed the dark, smooth, and silky liquid down her throat, relishing in the burn it gave her. 

Five tucked the napkin with the address into his pocket as the man left the establishment. He went to pick up his mug when the bell rang to the bakery. In the reflection, he saw men with their guns pointed at himself and Y/n. Y/n was unfazed by guns and stupid men at this point. Truth be told, she grew up with six idiotic men her whole life 

Five set down his mug with a clang, “Hmm. That was fast. I thought I’d have more time before they found me.”

“Okay. So let’s all be professional about this, yeah? On your feet and come with us. They want to talk.”

“You know it’s not professional to hold a gun up to someone’s head,” Y/n said as the chair swiveled around to face the men. 

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

“It doesn’t have to go this way. You think I want to shoot two kids? Go home with that on my conscience?”

Y/n crossed her arms, lips curling in a smirk, “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“You won’t be going home.”

Five spatial jumped as Y/n moved the gun away from her forehead. Hastily, the gun moved quickly without the man’s permission, and the man began shooting another. Y/n smirked as she watched. Five appeared on a table saying something almost unheard due to the noise of gunshots. 

He spatial jumped out of the building as Y/n punched a man, knocking him to the floor, and she stepped on his throat hard, crushing his windpipe. After, Y/n crawled under a table as Five appeared at the door with a salute as one of the men noticed. Gunshot ricocheted everywhere inside the bakery. 

Y/n grabbed at the man who was shooting aimlessly at the window. Her hands tightened around his neck, blocking his airway causing him to choke to death. Another man was beginning to shoot at her, but Five was taking care of it. Y/n saw another man starting to aim at Five while choking another man.

“What happened to a good conscious?” 

The man searched everywhere for the voice that echoed inside his head. Y/n grinned and kicked the man’s knees from the back. Her foot made contact with his back, cracking his spine, and she pushed his head hard into the tile floor. When she turned, she saw Five stab a man in the abdomen with a pencil and another man with a gun. 

Panicking, she flung a plate at the man’s face before he could begin shooting. The man fell to the ground, and Y/n walked over to him, crushing his windpipe like the first man she killed. Y/n watched as Five spatial jumped, so the last two men shot each other. Five went over to another dead man, grabbing his tie and tying it back around his neck. 

One of the men groaned, and Y/n went over to him. She stood over his barely living body in wonder. She couldn’t leave him to live. Quickly, she wandered into the man’s mind, finding nothing but gambling, drinking, and watching television. His life wasn’t worth a shit anyway. She snapped his neck without hesitation and whispered something in his ear. 

Five heard beeping from a device on the floor. He picked it up and saw a glowing red dot where he was standing. Five released a sigh of annoyance. Y/n noticed and watched as he slit his arm open. Five began to dig into his arm and pulled out a beeping device. 

“Come on. We’ve gotta go before the police get here.” 

Y/n followed as they both exited the doughnut shop. Five released the tracker from his hand near a flooding drain. Both of them made their way back to the vehicle they started in. Y/n got into the passenger's seat, and Five sat behind the wheel as he turned the engine. 

“So, what’s next on your list of adventures?“ Y/n questioned, venom dripping from her words. 

“You know, you didn’t have to come.“ Five replied as he began to back the car up. 

“But I chose to come, so don’t you have to tell me something?“ Y/n retorted as she crossed her arms. 

“You’ll know everything in due time.“ He said, not even sparing her a glance. 

[fawnandshadows]

You Painted Me Golden — Chapter 7

Summary: Elain enters her reputation era. This chapter contains: first dates, chocolate fondue, and an unexpected encounter.

Chapter 6 —— Chapter 8

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Language, NSFW — one extended smutty scene towards the end of the chapter that may contain a little experimentation that's not to everybody's taste, but very brief. Also fluff and angst *mwuahaha*

Chapter 7 — So It Goes... Part 2

THREE DAYS BEFORE ILLYRIA

Come here, dressed in black now

Elain knocked on Azriel’s door, excitement bubbling through her veins, and adjusted her new lavender dress. The sleeves were little puffs of tulle, hardly ideal of the chilly November weather, and the silky fabric was embroidered with tiny, cobalt flowers. She had seen this dress in a window display and immediately bought it; She thought it was perfect for her night with Azriel, with little hints of both of them represented on the dress… it made her smile every time she looked at it.

She bought it as a little present for herself and for him. A welcome home gift for him to unwrap.

She didn’t have to wait long until the heavy, oak door swung open to reveal a freshly showered and shaved Azriel. His hair was combed back, Elain couldn’t wait to run her fingers through it and tousle it and make it look deliciously messy. He wore a pressed, black button down shirt and black slacks, the same outfit he would wear to family dinners, but Elain could tell he took the time to iron out any wrinkles. He looked like a gentleman, and it sent her heart fluttering knowing that he dressed up, and took the effort to prepare himself, just for her.

The adorable mental image of Azriel fussing and primping in front of his mirror appeared in her mind, and it endeared itself snuggly into her heart.

“Hello,” Elain said gently, her fingers nervously playing with the fabric of her dress. It was silly, really, to be nervous. They had already made love — multiple times — but this was different. This was a date. Their first date. “May I come in?”

Azriel shook his head, as if he could physically clear away his pesky thoughts, and stepped aside to let her in. He realized he was staring at her, but all of his manners fled from him when he saw her standing in his doorway, looking like a blossoming flower in the middle of winter.

A small gasp left her mouth as she took in his once barren apartment. There were candles everywhere, different sizes and shapes and colors, as if he gathered any candles he could get his hands one. And massive bouquets of blooming flowers flooded every flat surface. Elain’s heart clenched when she realized that all the flowers were pink and blue.

“Our colors,” Elain muttered, the tip of her finger tracing the waxy petal of a pink lily. “It’s so lovely, Azriel. Everything is perfect.”

She smiled dreamily at him. She felt so lightheaded, and her heart was fluttering so quickly, Elain was a little worried she would faint before their date actually began.

Elain felt the soft, calloused pads of his fingers trace along the pulse in her neck that spoke of how quickly her heart was racing. Her golden-brown curls were gathered on top of her head in an elegant bun, and one, long curl fell against her neck.

His warm breath tickled her cheek and he laid his palm flat against her neck. A deep sigh of relief escaped his lungs, as if he couldn’t fully relax until his skin was touching hers.

“Not nearly as lovely as you,” Azriel said, his eyes like simmering coals. “I dreamt about you every night while I was away. I was only gone for four days, but somehow I forgot how beautiful you are. Or maybe my dreams just can’t compare to the real thing.”

Elain felt herself blush from her toes to the tips of her pointed ears.

“Oh!” Elain exclaimed and quickly scurried to the door to toe her slippers off. “I’m sorry, I forgot.” She smiled sheepishly at him.

When she made her way over to him again her arms wound around his torso, clutching him tightly and taking a deep breath of his scent. Elain almost wept at the overwhelming sense of tranquility she felt as his arms wrapped around her in turn and pulled her closer into him. Their bare toes lightly touching at their closeness.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” Elain muttered into his chest. Her eyelids drifted shut as she laid her cheek over his heart, its rhythm a soothing song in her ears. “I missed you.”

His arms were a comforting weight around her and his lips pressed into her hair.

“I missed you too.” Azriel said, his heart unbelievably warm. He had never been greeted like this after a mission. Rhysand would want to be debriefed, and after a particularly grewling mission Rhys would ask if he was ok and offer him time off, but they had been doing this for so long that it was normal — Everyone came to expect Azriel gone for extended periods of time, and it was nice to be welcomed home with warm hugs and tender feelings. It made him feel as if he was actually missed.

So, they just held each other. Basking in the warmth they created and the little things that reminded them it was real, that they were together: the way her stray hairs would tickle his nose, the way his cold toes pressed into her warm ones, and the way her fingers accidentally brushed against his wings.

“Dinner is going to get cold,” Azriel said as he slowly pulled his head back. He brought his hands up to gently cup her face, the warmth from her cheeks slowly seeping into his hands. That was something that he absolutely adored about Elain — She was always warm. Whereas he had gotten used to the cold and embraced it, she seemed to generate her own warmth. In the back of his head he wondered what would happen when they got to Illyria, if she would fall to the cold or make her own warmth. “And I would hate for Nuala and Cerridwen’s hard work to be wasted.”

“One day,” Elain said cheekily and looked up at him. “You’ll crack and be the one cooking for me.”

“I’ve cooked for you before. That first night when you snuck over here.”

“No,” Elain said, her hand dropping from his back to pinch his bottom. His eyes widened just a little, but she knew he wasn’t surprised. Elain couldn’t help it, his butt was just too cute for someone that had such a fearsome reputation, and at this point her hands did it without being told to. “You picked up food after dropping me off, and then you offered it to me when I came over. That doesn’t count as cooking.”

“The only thing I can make is Illyrian stew, and that doesn’t exactly make for a romantic dinner.” Azriel said modestly, his cheeks a little pink, and Elain knew he perceived it as a shortcoming. She wanted to erase any doubtful thoughts that plagued his mind.

“If you make it, then I want to try it,” She got onto her tip toes and rubbed her nose against his. It was one of Azriel’s favorite ways to show affection, so Elain did it every chance she got, but she had the inkling it held some deeper meaning that she didn’t know. The way his eyes would turn to liquid copper and the content smile on his face every time told Elain how much the gesture affected him. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“We’ll see about that when the time comes,” Azriel said and slowly backed away. He kept one large hand on the small of her back as he directed her to the kitchen. “For now you’ll have to settle the twin’s roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. They also made those delicious buttery rolls. The ones with the recipe they won’t share.”

“Really!” Elain said brightly and followed the divine smell coming from the kitchen.

A resounding smack resonated throughout the apartment, and Azriel looked on in delight as Elain jumped and cupped her bottom in surprise. She looked over her shoulder at him, her brown eyes bright and mirthful, her lips stretched into a wide grin. His favorite grin that caused her nose to scrunch.

Azriel looked at her with a cocked eyebrow and her favorite smile splayed on his face, the one that showed his dimple. He flexed his fingers like they had undertaken some massive task and said, “I couldn’t help myself. Don’t think I don’t notice how you sway your hips,” He took a step closer to her and ran his hand along the curve of her hip, and the guilty smile on her face told him she knew what she was doing. She always moved her hips a little more when he was around. “Now, sit down at the table and let me serve you.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead, a small brush of his lips, and squeezed her hip before walking towards the kitchen.

“You do serve me well. I’m always left satisfied and smiling.” Elain teased as she sat at the table, and even though she couldn’t see Azriel’s face as he gathered their dinner she knew he was smiling from the way his shadows lit up.

Elain admired how the table had been carefully set. All of the silverware had been in the proper position, the water glass placed correctly, and even the napkin was folded across her plate. It took a moment, but eventually she realized this was how tables were set in the human lands; She had set tables just like this many times during her childhood. She noticed that tables weren’t set with nearly as much precision in the Night Court, they didn’t bother with the little salad fork or the intricately folded napkin.

“Wine?” Azriel asked, coming up behind her with a bottle in one hand, wine that was most likely stolen from Rhysands collection, and two stemmed glasses in the other.

“Yes, please.” Elain said and watched as a generous amount of dark liquid flowed into their glasses.

“Oh,” Azriel said as he looked at the empty plates on the table. “Would you like salad first?”

Elain gently shook her head, touched at how he tried to emulate her human customs, and took a small sip of her wine. Fae wine was absolutely glorious, it felt thick and luxurious as it swept over her tongue. She just hated how it stained her teeth.

He cleared away their empty salad plates and replaced them with heavy dishes piled high with all their food. Elain’s mouth watered looking at the roasted chicken surrounded by creamy mashed potatoes and crispy green beans.

“Thank you,” Elain said and fingered the silverware before her. “For all of this. It’s incredibly thoughtful.”

Azriel’s cheeks lightened at the praise and he shrugged, his shadows swarmed him in a dark mist.

“You’re welcome.” He said as he sat down next to her.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Elain said and called out for Shadow. Azriel looked on in amazement as she conjured one of his shadows and pulled out a pink bakery box. “I baked these today,” She opened the lid to show him the cinnamon rolls that were hidden inside. “I thought you could have them for breakfast tomorrow. When I was baking them I wondered where the twins were, but I guess I have my answer now,” She smiled at him gently. “I know cinnamon rolls are your favorite breakfast.”

They watched as Shadow carried the box into the kitchen. Azriel was stunned by how effortlessly she had adopted one of his own shadows, not that he was surprised his shadow jumped ship. He recalled one time when they had snuck back here, and after a leisurely round of love making, Elain had drifted off to sleep —they both had— and when Azriel awoke almost all of his shadows were swirling around her. They settled over her like a blanket, as if they wanted to keep her warm. She looked like a princess placed under a dark spell, and the idea to kiss her away was almost too enticing to ignore. He did kiss her awake — just not on her lips.

If Rhysand thought he panted after Elain, then he should really see how his shadows acted around her. They were constantly doting on her, and Azriel didn’t blame them. His shadows, much like their master, were enthralled with the middle Archeron sister.

He wasn’t aware of how seeing Elain interact with his shadows would affect his heart. Seeing her accept them, not shy away or be intimidated, launched an all out assault on his carefully guarded heart. It chipped away at the defences he took 500 years to build.

“Thank you.” Azriel said and focused his attention on cutting his chicken into perfect slices, otherwise she might see how her thoughtfulness sent his mind spinning.

“How was your mission?” Elain asked and took a small bite of mashed potatoes. Azriel observed the way her lips closed around the fork and noted how her eyelids fell. The sounds she made as the creamy, savoury potatoes met her taste buds had no reason to sound so seductive as they graced his ears. Everything she did aroused him. He watched as Elain savored her food, and when her eyes opened he saw embarrassment flood her features.

“You make the most darling sounds when you eat.” Azriel said and watched as her face turned scarlet.

“Darling? I don’t think so,” Elain said in disbelief. “I believe the word my mother used was piggish.”

“She did not.” Azriel’s fork fell from his hand and clanked on the table.

Elain gave a slow nod and said, “Yes, she did,” A sigh escaped her. “It got to the point where if she heard me make those noises she would take my food away. She claimed it wasn’t lady-like,” Her nose wrinkled, but Azriel saw the lingering self-consciousness as she took a tiny, miniscule bite of green beans. “The worst was when she would take my dessert away, especially the cake.”

Azriel knew how much Elain loved cake. Her eyes lit up whenever it was placed in front of her, and her cake sounds always sounded more seductive than the other sounds — like they came from a place of sheer enjoyment. It would have wounded Azriel’s male pride if he hadn’t elicited those sounds out of her himself.

He was happy he never had the displeasure of meeting the Archeron mother.

“Here,” Azriel said and piled his fork with a little bit of chicken, mashed potato, and green beans, and held it up to her mouth. “It’s a perfect bite.”

Elain looked at the food presented to her and smiled guilty before opening her mouth. He watched, transfixed as her mouth opened wide and accepted his food, and something deep within him churned.

She chewed, smiling around her mouth full of food. Azriel would never tell her this, but she looked like a chipmunk with her cheeks stuffed. Her eating habits made a little more sense now, Azriel thought, how more often than not she wouldn’t eat all the food on her plate and how she took small servings when she got her own food.

He watched as she speared a hunk of chicken then globed on potato and beans, and held her fork up to his mouth.

It stung his heart, to know what this would mean under different circumstances, but he didn’t show it as he accepted her offering.

They fed each other for the rest of dinner, and they sat there relaxing with full bellies as the shadows cleared away the dishes.

“That was amazing,” Elain said with a contented sigh and laid a hand on her rounded stomach. “Although, I’m afraid I don’t feel very sexy right now.”

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Azriel suggested, aware of the snug feeling in his own waistband. “It might be a little cold, but I'm more than capable of keeping you warm.” He smiled lazily at her as her cheeks pinkened. It was so easy to make her blush. He loved it.

“May I borrow a sweater, please?” Elain asked nervously, as if she was afraid he’d say no.

“Of course,” Azriel said kindly and stepped into his room. Elain heard the opening of drawers and the shuffling of clothing, and soon enough he reappeared holding a fluffy black sweater. “Here.” He said and held the sweater in a way that told Elain he wanted to help her into it. So, she stood and pushed her arms into the sleeves as Azriel gently maneuvered it over her head, careful not to mess her hair up.

Elain took a deep breath, inhaling as much of his scent as possible, and didn’t bother to hide her actions. Azriel had caught her sniffing him enough to know that she adored his smell,  she was past the point of embarrassment.

The heavy fabric fell around her and instantly warmed her bones.

“It’s wool,” Azriel told her, and smiled at her in a daze. Elain would have given anything to know what was going through his head. “But I still plan on keeping you warm myself.”

Elain smiled at him and threaded her fingers through his.

“Do you need a jacket?” Elain asked in concern, and Azriel just shook his head and guided her to the door.

“What about the candles?” Elain asked as she stepped into her shoes. Azriel tried to do the same, but it wasn’t possible with his boots, so he begrudgingly dropped her hand.

“My shadows will keep an eye on things while they clean.”

“Spying and housekeeping, is there anything your shadows can’t do,” Azriel gave her a devilish grin and she felt her face burn. “Don’t answer that.”

Once he got his shoes on Azriel reached for her hand and tugged her out of the apartment.

I’m so chill, but you make me jealous

It was a chilly night in Velaris and Azriel kept his arm firmly tucked around Elain as they meandered under the stars with no destination in mind.

Cassian and Nesta were in Illyria, preparing for the competition, and Feyre, Rhysand, and Nyx were having a family night; They had asked Elain to join them, but she rejected their offer, claiming they should have time alone together.

Really, it was just bad luck that they had run into Mor.

Azriel’s shadows were too busy cleaning his apartment to alert him, but he never had any of his shadows tracking the blonde. For the longest time, when his feelings for her were strongest, he never had any shadows following her. It didn’t sit right with him, and he knew that Mor was more than capable of defending herself, so it would have seemed like a grotesque invasion of her privacy. The last time they had seen her had been at Rita’s. She had disappeared that night and the next morning she was traveling to the continent. Mor didn’t even know about their shenanigans that night, and she didn’t smell the way they reeked of each other's desire the next day.

Elain cuddled under the heavyweight of his arm, and she had boldly slid her hand into his back pocket. The cold air barely touched her, but rather slid off of the warm cocoon Azriel had made with his wings.

They were chatting about nothing, just saying whatever popped into their heads and enjoying the sounds of the others' voice. The accent, the slight hint of a brogue, that Elain had drunkenly made fun of weeks ago was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. And the lilt of Elain’s voice that spoke of her human upbringing was the sound that used to come to Azriel in both his best and worst dreams, and he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that it was now a part of his reality.

“Say something else.” Azriel said softly in her ear.

“Like what?” Elain asked shyly, looking up at him from underneath her lashes.

“Anything.”

“I could tell you about my dream last night,” Elain suggested with sparkling eyes, and Azriel urged her to continue. “It’s silly, really, and very ordinary. It started with just you and I, we were in my room at the River House, and I could tell it was early morning by how the sun was streaming in through the curtain. We were having a deliciously slow time waking up, I would go to leave and you would pull me back down and kiss me until I couldn’t remember why I wanted to get up in the first place, and you mentioned how you didn’t mind my morning breath,” She pinched his muscled stomach as if he had actually said it, and his deep laugh rumbled through the dark night. “So, we were just laying in bed, unrushed… and enjoying each other. And then I woke up.”

She smiled up at him and it was like a little ray of sun in the middle of the night.

Azriel felt the pull, the magnetism, the gravity that constantly coaxed his lips towards hers, and so far he had managed to resist it. Whatever possessive-territorial-fae instinct that yelled at him to leave the tattoo on her body won out over his need to kiss her, but it helped that he had been able to kiss her everywhere else. All of that resistance was about to be thrown away.

He let his lips slowly drift towards hers when he heard his name being called out.

“Azriel!” He looked up and saw Mor walking towards them.

Elain hated how quickly he dropped his arm, as if he couldn’t get it off her fast enough. For a brief moment in time she hated the gorgeous blonde walking their way, and then she hated herself for hating Mor.

“What are you guys doing?” Mor asked, grinning as she approached them. Her blonde hair fell around her face gracefully, she wore a bright red coat that went below her knees, and her hands were stuffed into its pockets. Her brown eyes betrayed nothing of what she felt, but they did flitter back and forth between the Shadowsinger and the Seer.

“Walking.” They had said at the same time, both suppressing their surprise at saying the same thing.

“I didn’t know you were back.” Azriel said. He had taken a step away from her, and all of her warmth vanished with him. It had been awkward retrieving her hand from his pants pocket, he had moved with it still lodged in there, and Elain tried not to be hurt at the distance he put between them. She told herself it was because they had agreed to keep their relationship a secret, and not because he didn’t want Mor to think they were involved.

She had told herself, right from the beginning, that she would ask Azriel about Mor, but she had procrastinated. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, or mess up their relationship, and Mor was gone most of the time so it wasn’t an issue. Elain could at least pretend that Azriel didn’t have any feelings for the warrior if she wasn’t around, out of sight out of mind.

However, that philosophy didn’t quite work when Mor was most definitely in sight and taking up both her mind and Azriels.

“I just got in this morning,” Mor said smiling. Elain looked at Azriel to gauge his reaction, and it was predictably blank. “I’m going to Illyria to show support for the Valkyries, and maybe give them any last minute help. Are you going up?” She smiled kindly at him, and Elain wanted to claw it off of her face.

Elain just stood there, arms crossed over her chest, and watched as they talked. She didn’t think she was being ignored on purpose, but it still stung. It didn’t seem right, that she had been sharing Azriel’s life, and his bed, for almost a month now and yet she felt like an intruder in their conversation.

At least she was still tucked into Azriel’s wing. She wasn’t completely abandoned.

Oh Mother, she hated herself for sulking. All Azriel was guilty of was being polite and doing exactly what she asked. It was her own stupid insecurity eating at her. She had thought she was over the way Graysen had rejected her, but as she stood there watching Azriel and Mor, she wasn’t so sure.

What if… What if Azriel was only biding his time, and was only with her because he couldn’t be with who he really wanted. She didn’t think so, at least she didn’t want to think so, but the thought swarmed her head regardless.

“I should go,” She heard Mor say. Elain looked at her to see the blonde warrior pointing across the street. “I’m meeting some friends before I leave for Illyria. Would you like to come? Both of you?”

Mor smiled at Elain, proving once again that she was nothing but friendly, and Elain felt a new wave of self-loathing crash over her.

Azriel looked at Elain, waiting for her to answer.

“No, but thank you for the invitation.” Elain said with a forced smile.

They said their goodbyes and Mor hurried across the street.

Azriel sidled up to her and reclaimed her hand, bringing his wing in tighter to push them closer together.

“Are you ok?” He asked. He wasn’t surprised that she had been quiet while he was speaking with Mor, but he was surprised to see her look so sullen.

“Fine,” Elain replied with a tight smile. “Maybe just a little cold. Would it be alright if we went back to your place?”

“Of course.” Azriel said and wrapped his arm around her. He noticed how her hand didn’t stray to his pocket.

It was a quiet walk home.

All the pieces fall, right into place

Elain was in a funk, and a funk was the last thing she wanted to be in around Azriel. She would have loved to have been in a lust, or a love, or a frenzy, but the encounter with Mor had left a dark, gloomy funk clouding her mind.

The entire walk home she had been collecting her courage, gathering all of her thoughts to practice what she was going to say, and it all disappeared the second the door was opened. Flowers and candles still littered the entire living space, but everything from dinner had been cleared away and the table held a giant bowl with warm, swirling chocolate and it was surrounded by plates of fruits and breads and other delicacies just asking to be dipped in the chocolate.

“It’s a new invention from Dawn,” Azriel said and rubbed the back of his neck. “The bowl keeps the chocolate warm. I thought it might be fun to try for dessert, but we don’t have to,” he trailed off. “It took a while to set up, that’s why I had us walk so far.”

“I would love for us to try it,” Elain said, taking care to slide her shoes off so Azriel knew she wasn’t going anywhere. “Um, I would like for us to talk first, please.”

Azriel nodded for her to continue as he sat to rid himself of his boots and watched as Elain paced the length of the rug. Her dress trailing behind her and fingers curling into his sweater.

She took a deep breath before saying, “I know you have feelings for Mor,” His shoe slipped out of his hands and crashed onto the floor. “Or maybe you did have feelings for Mor, but I don’t know. That’s what's bugging me — well, part of what’s bugging me. It’s that I don’t know if you have feelings for Mor and are just with me because I’m… available...”

Azriel stood and lopsidedly walked over to her with one half-untied shoe on.

“Hey,” Azriel said and grasped her shoulders, his sweater soft beneath his hands, but he loathed the fact that it came between them. Elain looked up at him with sad brown eyes, and it felt like fae-bane to the heart. “I am not with you just because you are available, alright? I care about you, Elain. Way too fucking much,” He said gently and slowly started rubbing circles on her shoulders, and he could feel the tension slowly start to dissolve. “As for Mor, I thought I loved her, and I do love her as a friend. But I’m slowly starting to realize that love shouldn’t be one sided.”

“So, you don’t want to be with her the way you are with me?” Elain asked meekly.

“No,” Azriel said and squeezed her shoulders. He was rewarded with a relieved, yet timid smile. “There is no one else I would rather be with. I wouldn’t want to have dinner with anyone else, and I most definitely don’t want anyone else in my bed. There is nobody I would rather share my time with.”

“Ok,” Elain said breathlessly. “Me too. Would you...would you be ok if we didn’t see anybody else? I know we never talked about it, but I think it’s important. Just so we are on the same page.”

“I promise you, Elain Archeron, that as long as we are together there will be nobody else for me.” Azriel said, and he silently added an ‘or after’ after ‘together’.

“And I promise you that I am yours to keep,” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his left cheek. “And I am yours to lose.” She kissed his right cheek. “And I don’t want to be with anyone else but you.”

Azriel felt his stomach hurl itself into his throat. Lucien was still in the back of his mind, and he wondered how long she would actually want him for, and how long she could resist the lure of the mating bond. However long Elain wanted him for he wasn’t going to by thinking about her mate, or Rhysand, or any or the multitude of reasons they shouldn’t be together.

“I’m sorry I was being silly,” Elain said with a self-deprecating smile. “I didn’t mean to ruin our evening together.”

“You’re not silly,” Azriel said as he cupped her face between his large hands. “And you didn’t ruin anything. I want you to tell me how you feel, I want you to share every thought that goes through your pretty head, and as long as we are together it’s a perfect night.” He watched as Elain pressed her lips into each of his palms, one after the other.

“I think I’m ready for dessert.” Elain said took a small step back. His eyes latched onto her and she peeled the sweater off of her body, his eyes straying to the flex of the muscles in her stomach, the way her chest moved with each breath, and how she daintily folded the sweater and left it on the coffee table. “I would hate to get chocolate on it,” Elain explained with a cat-like grin. “I tend to be a messy eater. I’ll probably need your help cleaning myself up.”

“I’m at your service.” Azriel said and mirrored every step Elain took, backwards until her bottom hit the table, as if a string had connected their feet. His arms rested on either side of her, trapping her, and he watched eagerly as Elain took a strawberry, dunk it in the warm chocolate, and then presented it to his mouth.

He felt the edge of the strawberry nudged his lips, chocolate smudged his face, and he took the berry between his teeth. Sweetness bloomed on his tongue.

Elain discarded the stem and ran her thumb over his mouth, collecting the chocolate, and cleaned it with her tongue. Hazel eyes transfixed on the pink tongue that licked her thumb. She dipped her index finger directly into the chocolate and then dragged it across her neck.

Azriel greedily lapped it up.

His tongue sweeping across her throat, collecting all of the chocolate that dripped over her skin, making it his mission to see her completely cleaned.

In a frenzy he lifted his head, and Elain had the vague impression of a wild animal as she took in Azriel’s chocolate-stained lips, flushed cheeks, and heated gaze.

“I have a better idea for dessert.” Azriel said.

“What’s that?” Elain asked, dunking her finger in the warm chocolate sauce and offering it to him. A large hand wrapped around her wrist and brought her chocolate soaked finger to his hot mouth, his tongue gliding along the length of her finger to collect the dripping liquid. Their eyes connected as he teased her with his tongue.

“You — spread out on my bed with my face in your thighs.”

A small sound of pleasure squeaked from her throat, and that was enough for Azriel to lift her into his arms. His hands cupping her backside as her legs wounds around his waist, their bodies pressing into each other perfectly. Her fingers twirled in his dark hair, and laughter bubbled out of her throat as he ran then towards his bedroom.

No sooner than her back hitting the plush bed was her dress bunched around her waist, the cool air settling over the hot crevice of her legs, Azriel’s hands ran up and down the length of her thighs, and his hot breath drifted wet folds.

He pulled himself away and took her small left foot into his scarred hands. A thumb dug deeply into the sole of her foot, and Elain moaned as he used the perfect amount of pressure to erase all of her tension. Gods, Azriel gave the best foot messages.

Soft lips pressed into her calf, right over the tattoo that graced her leg. He peppered kisses into her leg, his lips dragging across her skin as he worked his way up her leg. Every once in a while Elain felt his hot tongue glide across her inked skin. He caressed every inch of her leg until he worked his way back up between her thighs.

His broad tongue drank from her, and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thighs. He worked his tongue slowly, avoiding the one place she wanted his attention the most, and was rewarded by the way her hips were grinding against his face.

Something nagged in the back of his mind, he pulled himself away with glistening lips, an amazed look across his face.

“Where’s your,” He started and blinked, “You’re not wearing any—”

“Surprise.” Elain said with a bashful grin. Azriel let loose a wild grin, his hair falling over his forehead, and plunged back between her legs. His tongue worked her fervently, and he moved one hand from her thigh to work her with his fingers.

With a flick of his tongue over her sensitive nerves he plunged a long finger into her. Elain whimpered as his tongue circled her clit, and then gently flitted against it. He worked her quickly, and once her fingers started jerking in his hair and her high-pitched moans came rapidly, so it was just one long sequence of sounds pulling from her. And once he felt her start to tighten around his finger, he pulled away.

Her moan of pleasure turned into a cry of frustration.

Azriel crawled up her body, his hands planted on either side of her face, and smirked at her.

“That was mean.” Elain pouted.

Azriel tisked teasingly and said, “We couldn’t have you making a mess in your pretty dress,” He pressed hot kisses along her throat. “I know how wet you get when you come,” He whispered in her ear, and Elain felt her skin burn at his words. “I think it’s time for you to get comfortable.” His finger traced along the curve of her exposed skin, following the line of her bodice.

He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position and motioned for her to turn around. Elain shifted onto her stomach, the silk of her dress twisting around her, and buried her head into his pillow.

Night-chilled mist invaded her senses, and her skin pricked in anticipation as she felt Azriel’s hand trail the buttons of her dress. His fingers slid underneath her dress, and slowly started unbuttoning the delicate pearl buttons. Elain felt him shift over her, his lips brushing her ear as he said, “For future reference, mo chroí, pick a dress with less buttons,” And slid his finger fiercely down her spine. The tiny pings of pearls hitting every surface in the room filled the air, and Elaid felt a gust of coolness ghost over her back. “That’s better.”

With her bare back exposed to him, Azriel couldn’t stop himself from kissing the knobs of her spin. His tongue greeted each peak with love, and followed the path of her spine until it met with the valley below her ass. His tongue swirled into the two dimples he had discovered during their time together, and his hands grasped her two rounded cheeks and squeezed.

He gave her butt a loving pat before sitting up and spinning her onto her back. She gazed up at him with molten-honey eyes half hidden behind her eyelids and a dazed smile. He tugged off her dress, watching it shimmy over the curve of her body, feasting his eyes on her exposed breasts.

Her dusty pink nipples puckered forward, and after tossing her dress over his shoulder, he took one in his mouth.

Elain grasped his head and slowly pulled him away, her pebbled flesh between his teeth, and let out a gasp as he finally released his hold on her.

“You know,” Elain said and brought their faces closer together. “I’m starting to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

Azriel gave her a devilish grin, and his fingers delved between her thighs.

“The most beautiful female in the world is naked in my bed,” He said and pressed a kiss to her chin. “If anything, I am having my wicked way with you,” He worked a finger into her, and then another. Azriel watched as her entire body turned a delightful shade of pink. “But if it’ll make you happy.”

He untangled himself from her and rid himself of his clothing as quickly as possible, Elain quietly marveling at how his shadows lifted his shirt off of his wings.

Azriel blanketed himself over her, settled between her legs, and peppered kisses on her face. He lined himself up to enter her, rubbing the blunt head of his cock along her folds, and shuttered at the feel of her.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Azriel groaned, teasing himself. “Such a good girl, getting ready to take me.”

“I’m not a bad girl,” Elain said, her small hand stroking his hard cock. His skin hot against her own. “But I do bad things with you.” She nibbled on his neck, her teeth gently scraping over the thrum of his vein.

“Is that what we do?” Azriel asked, his voice darkly sensual. His eyes closed, fully focusing on her hand, but a small smirk formed on his lips. “Bad things?”

Her thumb brushed over his slit, spreading the little bead of liquid over the head of his cock.

“I’m pretty sure my mate would think so.” Elain whispered, which elicited a growl from deep within his throat. It was wrong, and Elain knew it, but she loved poking and prodding at his territorial instinct.

His heavy lids opened a little, just enough for Elain to see the burning male satisfaction swirling in his eyes — The mating bond, the sight and stench of it, was enough to make him sick, but it thrilled him to know Elain chose him, at least physically, over her mate. His cock twitched at the thought.

“Fuck,” Azriel grunted, his hands spread her legs wider, and he pushed the tip of his cock into her opening. Slowly pushing until all of his length was inside of her and she was stretched tightly around him. He restrained himself, letting her get adjusted to him, and just basked in how blissful she felt.

“Go one,” Elain whispered and nudged her hips against his. His hand ran up and down her leg before grasping the back of her knee as he slowly rocked back and forth.

Azriel placed his forehead against hers, their eyes locked together, as he pumped in and out of her. Her mouth fell open and Azriel saw her brown eyes roll back behind their lids, her breath turned choppy as he increased his pace.

The wet sound of their skin meeting fought with the purrs coming out of Elain for the most seductive sound heard in Azriel’s long, long life. Of course, the soft sounds coming out of Elain sounded suspiciously like her cake-sounds.

He kept thrusting into her until he felt her start to clench around his cock, a tell-tale sign of her impending orgasm, and pulled out of her.

Elain let out a scream of exasperation, which caused Azriel to smirk into her neck, and playfully bite her shoulder.

“Let's try something new,” Azriel suggested, which somewhat placated Elain. “And I promise you the best orgasm of your life.” He ran his tongue over the bite marks in her neck.

“I’m not sure,” Elain teased and ground her hips against his hard length. “You’ve given me some pretty amazing orgasms.”

Azriel growled at the challenge.

He adjusted their position so that she was on her knees and grabbing his metal bed frame. Her bottom was up in the air and presented to him so deliciously, the curves of ass and her glistening pink center almost made him shoot his release all over her, which was a mental image he tucked away for a rainy day. One that he would pull to the forefront of his mind when he had to spend his nights far away Elain.

Luckily, there was the delectably warm, real Elain in front of him.

His scarred hands cupped her ass and spread her cheeks. His one hand slipped between her legs to her hot core, his eyes almost rolling into his head at how wet she was, and slid up to the hole that was hidden to him. Azriel took a controlled breath and promised, “One day I’ll fuck you here. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” Elain moaned as he moved his finger in a circle.

“Not yet,” Azriel removed his hands and clutched the slope that connected her waist and hips. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her entrance, teasing both of them, until Elain was writhing and mewling in frustration.

“Please.” Elain said, and Azriel plunged his cock into her. He almost came from the way her walls clenched around him, as if her body knew it needed his. “Yes. Fuck,” Once again his strength was tested, he had never heard Elain say that word before, and it drove him mad with satisfaction to know he affected her just as much as she affected him. “You’re so deep.”

Her knuckles turned white against his headboard as she clutched onto the iron molding.

Azriel started moving his hips in slow, controlled movements. Elain tossed her head back, her curls spread on her back like spools of gold, so Azriel brought one hand up and wound it into her hair. Her chin lifted just a little, and Azriel could see her mouth had dropped open from pleasure as he rode her.

Seeing the look of pure elation on her beautiful feature was his undoing. He pounded into her quickly, and the sound of their heavy breathing and skin coming together was drowned out by the blood rushing in their heads. Azriel came deep within her, and then brought his hand around her to massage her clit, working her furiously, until he felt her coming around his cock.

Their tired, sweat slicked bodies fell next to each other on the bed. Somehow Elain had ended up on his wing, but Azriel didn’t care about the dull ache as long as they were touching.

Gold cage, hostage to my feelings

“Do you have to leave?” Azriel asked sleepily from the bed. His eyes were heavy, and if it hadn’t been for his grumbly voice then she would’ve slipped out of the room and let him rest.

It broke her heart to leave the security of his arms. She never felt safer, more at ease, than when she was with him.

The air was chilly against her warm skin, and the beckoning toastiness of sharing a bed with Azriel called to her, but she knew it would be harder on both of them if she linger. She wanted to stay, more than anything she wanted to snuggle into the sheets and press herself to his skin, her heart was pleading with her mind to let her stay— crawl back into the home they had built together, the world that existed of just them — but her mind told her no. It was better to leave quickly.

The coldness of the room sent a shiver down her spine, at least that’s what Elain hoped Azriel saw. His eyes, that always saw everything when it came to her, lingered on her fame as she sat in front of the vanity, the cream silk sleeves of her robe spilled off of her shoulder — it was a gift from Azriel, so she could be comfortable here. She hoped that he saw it as the chill of a late November night creeping over her skin rather than the restrained sob that scraped through her skeleton.

She sat at the vanity that he had surprised her with a week before. He heard her complaining of his small mirror in the bathroom and went out and got her a beautiful, ornate wooden vanity with a large mirror — it was placed on the wall opposite the bed, so as she looked at her reflection she saw Azriel propped up on the messy bed behind her. The sheets tangled around his slim hips, wings spread out and languid, and shadows caressed the edges of his body — he looked like every cautionary tale told to young mortal girls of Fae males that sought to seduce them and leave them ruined.

It took every bit of strength to not crawl back into the warmth of his bed, to wrap her limbs around him and fall asleep with his heartbeat echoing in her ears, to ignore the way her blood still sang from when he touched her.

Instead, she focused on the small cosmetic powder that she clutched a little too tightly in one hand and the sponge she used to dab the powder on to her neck — her movements slow, controlled, and precise. A small bubble of disgust burst in her chest, she had to cover the evidence of what they were doing like it was something ugly that needed to be hidden and not something beautiful that brought her joy and happiness. Her eyes locked on to her neck, watching his love bite until it was completely hidden.

“You know I do,” Elain finally responded. The lump in her throat was small enough to talk around, and she prayed he was still too worn out from their love making to notice her strained smile. “I wish I could stay.” She whispered to his reflection.

Her eyes caught onto the small indentation on her shoulder, and she traced her fingers along those divots left by his teeth. No amount of powder would cover them, and she secretly loved it. Part of her hoped that someone would finally notice, and they’d be caught and deal with whatever consequences they had to and finally be able to move forward with their relationship.

The shaking of her hands made it difficult to brush her hair. The bristles of her brush kept snagging on her knotted strands of hair, frustration kept building in her chest as her brush got caught in a particularly stubborn knot. She pulled and tugged, her hands slick against the handle of the brush, and eventually her frustration manifested in silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Elain wasn’t aware that Azriel had even moved until she felt his warm hand settle in her shoulder. His thumb brushed over her skin, and his kindness just made her cry harder.

“It’s not fair,” Elain sputtered, her lips wobbled and chin buckled as she turned into a blubbering mess. “It’s not fair that we have to hide.”

“I know,” Azriel rasped, his lips brushing over her cheeks to catch the falling tears. He would have offered her words of comfort, but he didn’t have any. “I shouldn’t have asked you to stay, it was selfish of me.”

Elain sniffed and it turned his heart to dust.

“If I asked,” She said, taking a deep, uneven breath. “Would you run away with me?”

“Yes.” His voice was sure and certain and steady, but she felt the warmth of his tears mingle with her own. It would kill him to leave his family, but he would if she asked.

Not that she would ever ask that of him, but she could dream.

They clung onto each other, letting all of their frustration pour out of them in sobs and cries, and once they had cried until it was impossible for more tears to form Azriel pulled back and grasped the brush that was still dangling from her hair. He gently untangled it and worked through the kinks that he had caused. After her hair was completely brushed through, more evidence of their time together erased, he divided her hair into four parts and started braiding.

“I love how you braid,” Elain said with a brittle smile. “With four sections.”

Azriel stared at his hands. He had unintentionally started an Illyrian braid.

“I can redo it,” Azriel offered, his hands suspended in the air with her hair wrapped around his fingers like ribbons. “So no one will know.”

Elain gave a small, imperceptible shake of her head.

“I like it,” Her tongue wet her dry lips. “I like having that part of you on me,” He never understood it. How she could look at him and not flinch away from his scars, from the parts of himself that he despised. “If anyone asks, I’ll just say that one of the twins did it.”

They both knew that no one would ask, he always winnowed directly into her room, but she said the words on reflex. Everything about her appearance required some form of explanation to have at the ready.

The new dress that she had gotten for him, at once pristine earlier this evening, was now wrinkled and creased from being tossed to the side. He helped her up and grasped one of her hands and she stepped into the dress that had pooled on the floor. He reached down and pulled the delicate fabric up, watching it slide over the curve of her hips, he stopped briefly to let her arms go through the little scraps of gauzy sleeves and then it settled on top of her shoulders.

Azriel watched as his hands, which had done horribly awful things, buttoned the tiny buttons lining the back of her dress. He noted that more than half of them had been pulled off from when he had ripped it off of her earlier that night, and he promised himself that he would buy her another one.

He ignored the fact that he seemed to ruin everything he touched, and focused instead on the delicate knobs of her spine that were slowly disappearing. He traced his knuckle along the length of exposed skin, and then pressed a kiss into her shoulder.

Thankfully he had over 500 years experience of weathering pain. He was able to ignore the sharp sting that punctured his heart as his shadows enveloped them and he felt her slowly leave his arms. He barely managed a goodbye.

When he finally arrived back in his own apartment he was met with a cold, empty bed and the lingering smell of jasmine.

__

So, what did you guys think!?

How was that for more angst piled on top of unresolved angst??? LOL I promise next chapter will pick off where So It Goes... Part 1 left off. I love hearing from you guys to please comment and let me know your thoughts! Please like and share if you enjoyed (: Let me know if you want to be tagged for upcoming chapters!

Tagging: @justheretoreadsposts @thefangirlofhp @the-laughing-bubble @swankii-art-teacher

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Chapter Eight