#he can’t use them often because every time he does it drains his life force

[kenjakusbraincum]

Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.

So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.

I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work

Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3

Swan Lake

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 6.3k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!

Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.

So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.

Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...

The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.

Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.

''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.

But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.

Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.

You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.

So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...

Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.

"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"

"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.

"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"

"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -

"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.

You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.

"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.

You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.

"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."

You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...

"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.

But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.

Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.

"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."

Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.

You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.

You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.

The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.

"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.

"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.

"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.

The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.

"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"

Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."

"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.

The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...

He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.

"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.

You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.

Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.

You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.

You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.

"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.

"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.

"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.

You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"

"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.

"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.

"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"

"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.

"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.

Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.

The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.

Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.

Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.

You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.

But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.

Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?

Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.

Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.

''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''

''Did you take both at the same time?''

''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''

And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?

You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.

''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.

''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.

''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''

''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''

''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''

''Huh!?''

''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''

Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.

You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?

Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.

''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.

''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.

He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.

He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.

''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.

And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.

''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.

''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.

You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.

He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''

You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.

The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.

Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.

The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.

Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.

Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.

Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.

From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.

And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.

There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.

And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.

''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.

''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.

That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.

The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.

Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.

But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.

"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.

"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.

"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.

"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.

"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.

"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.

And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -

Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."

That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.

In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.

The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.

And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.

''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''

''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.

''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.

At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.

He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.

''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.

''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.

''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.

He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.

And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.

You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.

After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.

[bubbleteaimagines]

MHA BOYS WITH A S/O THAT HAS A MERMAID QUIRK

+ genre. sfw

+ warnings. none

+ notes. this is such a cute concept and i absolutely love the idea of a mermaid quirk!

TODOROKI SHOTO

Feels instantly drawn to you due to the similarity of your quirks (you know, the whole ice/water thing)

On land, you can control water so you and Todoroki make a great duo

He’s always making sure you don’t overexert yourself because he knows how draining a power like that is

The funniest thing is though, is that Todoroki actually doesn’t know how to swim

The boy is absolutely clueless in the water and you get a kick out of teasing him and splashing him with your tail whenever you guys go down to the ocean

After some time, he does give in and let’s you teach him how to swim

Holds your hand while you guys swim underwater and admires your tail

He’s shy about asking to touch it, but once he finally does he can’t get enough

Asks you about life under the sea and since your quirk allows your hair to grow super long, he’ll braid it while listening to your stories and adventures

IZUKU MIDORIYA

Is literally fascinated by everything you do, but especially when you show him your true form in the water

Spends hours badgering you about your quick and asking to learn about it

You guys have a lot of beach days because Midoriya loves to swim with you!

He thinks it’s the coolest thing whenever you communicate with dolphins or use your echolocation

Sits on the shore while you swim and draws cute little sketches of you which you cherish

You also bring him little presents like pearls and lost jewelry (that he tries his bests to return) which he makes in bracelets and wears proudly

BAKUGO KATSUKI

Though he’d never admit it out loud, Bakugo does think dating a mermaid is pretty damn cool

He teases the absolute hell out of you though

Calls you nicknames like “Tails,” and “Fish,”

“Move it tails, quit hogging all of the water!”

Always tries to race in you in swimming and then proceeds to get mad because he loses every time

“If it weren’t for your stupid quirk I definitely would have kicked your ass!”

Is oddly attentive to your quirk though

Like he knows that after a while you need to be in the ocean or else you’ll start to seriously dry out and he practically forces you down there once a week

He also buys you cream to keep your tail moisturized when you guys can’t make it to the beach

You never saw him slip it on your dresser though and if you mention it you’re dead

But

Somehow you never end up running out, and when it’s time to buy a new jar Katsuki conveniently goes to the store that day

HAWKS

Thinks it’s absolutely hilarious and ironic at the same time

I mean, birds are known for swooping up fish and eating them

And if you think Keigo won’t take the opportunity to do that just once, you’re lying to yourself

In fact, he does it as often as he can just to piss you off

Yes, he will literally swoop down from the sky and pick you up while you’re swimming, just to fly around and carry you in the sky

He gets a kick out of it every single time

Don’t worry though, you always get him back by dragging him in the water and getting his wings wet

You always get the pleasure of watching him scowl on the beach while he tries to dry his wet wings

All the teasing aside though, Hawks loves your quirk

He has so many photos of you and always tells you how beautiful and graceful you look

He likes that he can relate to you because like him, your quirk is physically apart of you

Always asks you to sing for him when he can’t sleep and always asleep cuddled in your lap

He’s a big softie and also likes brushing your hair whenever you’ll let him

[separatist-apologist]

Lucien Vanserra + The Villain Theory & Why the Mating Bond Is Not Fake

I've been thinking about this for a while and I've decided I want to debunk this because of all the *insert character that is definitely not the villain becoming a secret villain*, Lucien is most definitely not it.

The theory, according to tiktok, is that Lucien is a secret schemer who has tricked everyone, including Elain, into believing they are mates for undefined, suspicious reasons likely related to Koschei. I find this unlikely considering his "father" is ALSO scheming with Koschei and Lucien likely has some awareness of this considering how often Eris is suddenly hanging around.

This is so long. Everything is under the cut.

However, lets pretend he doesn't. There is consistent, contextual proof that Lucien a) could not make up a mating bond even if he wanted to and b) everyone would know if he had.

Starting in ACOTAR, Tamlin tells Feyre the story of Lucien. On page 160, Tamlin says:

"Lucien said he didn't care she wasn't one of the High Fae, that he was certain the mating bond would snap soon and that he was going to marry her and leave his father's court to his scheming brothers."

Followed up on page 161, Tamlin adds:

"...his father has never apologized and his brothers are too frightened of me to risk harming him. But he has never forgotten what they did to her...even if he pretends he has."

That's ACOTAR. I know SJM likes to change things on a whim, but foundationally, this is Lucien's character and across all five books, it never changes. Lucien is still haunted by Jesminda and the mating bond he lost. He firmly believes, if we believe Tamlin to be a reliable narrator (and we should, as Lucien backs Tamlin's opinion up in his private thoughts. It is also worth noting that if Lucien has a villain origin story, it begins right here, the moment his father beheads Jesminda. To assume he's the villain, we ought to believe that he's been scheming non-stop for at least 200 years (since he's like, 300ish?) and to what end? To kill Beron? He'd have been scheming far longer than Elain was alive.

Moving right along to ACOMAF, on page 619, Amren says:

"And the bond," Amren breathed, Cassian's blood shining on her hands as she slowed its dribbling.

Mor said, "She asked the king to break the bond. He obliged."

I thought I might be dying- thought my chest might actually be cleaved in two.

"Thats impossible," Amren said. "That sort of bond cannot be broken."

"The kind said he could do it."

"The king is a fool," Amren barked. "That sort of bond cannot be broken."

"No, it can't," I said.

This is from Rhys' perspective. A mating bond can't be broken with magic- it's forever. Even rejected or in death (we'll get there), the mating bond is for life. Assuming Lucien's mate was Jesminda, even if it hadn't snapped in death, she would STILL be his mate and death would not have changed that. Neither would any magic Lucien, a spell-cleaver, might possess.

Let's also consider Elain, who has no reason to lie and every reason to call Lucien out regarding the bond. In ACOMAF, page 608, we see this:

"...Elain was staring over Nesta's shoulder. At Lucien-whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain-

Lucien's hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, "You're my mate."

It's Elain who sees him first, who feels the mating bond mere seconds before Lucien. Why choose Elain, if you're going to pick a fake mate for your scheme? The argument is generally that she has the least amount of knowledge about Faeries and no interest in that education but how would Lucien know that? Feyre told Lucien nothing about her sisters (she told Ianthe instead), which means he would have had to guess. Given that Elain fights being put in the Cauldron, there's nothing contextually in that moment that suggests that Lucien somehow knew she was the easier sister to fool.

It's also worth noting that Lucien, up until that moment, still genuinely believes Jesminda was his mate. If he's the villain, having a fake mate makes no sense to the story or his plans.

Feyre has been inside Lucien's mind twice. Once in ACOMAF (pg. 95):

"Thoughts slammed into me, images and memories, a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever, and sad, so endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless-"

And again in ACOWAR when Lucien meets Elain for the first time. On page 249, we get the best description of what Lucien is feeling regarding the mating bond, all through Feyre's perspective:

"Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand?

The thoughts flowed through his head, one after another. His heart was a raging, thunderous beat, and he didn't dare move from his position a mere five feet away. She hadn't yet turned toward him, but the ravages of her fasting were evident enough.

Touch her, smell her, taste her-

The instincts were running a river. he fisted his hands at his sides."

"But there she was. His mate. She was nothing like Jesminda."

"Elain had been...thrown at him."

"That circle of people who now claimed to be Feyre's new family...It was what, long ago, he'd once thought life at Tamlin's court would be. An ache like a blow to the chest went through him, but he crossed the rug."

"But he couldn't breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He'd said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the senses chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours."

"She looked away- towards the windows. 'I can hear your heart,' she said quietly. He wasn't sure how to respond, so he said nothing and drained his tea even as it burned his mouth.

'When I sleep,' she murmured, 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. 'Can you hear mine?'

He wasn't sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, 'No, lady. I cannot.'"

These are Lucien's thoughts from Feyre's perspective. He has no idea she's in his head, so why is he thinking all those things? Why feel guilt that he finds her beautiful or that he'd once said all the same things to Jesminda that he thinks about Elain? Why care about her well-being? We know mates are driven to protect and Lucien's very first thoughts about Elain are ones of concern. She's not eating, she's too thin, how can she possibly stand? Not, hahaah my evil planned worked and I totally have an in with the Night Court (which, why would he need considering Tamlin is currently allied with Hybern and Lucien could have taken full advantage of that?).

Additionally, assuming Lucien is faking the mating bond for some poorly defined, evil plot, why keep such distance? Why not force himself on her? That's the claim, right? That he's forcing her to be with him which is amusing because in ACOFAS, Lucien has some thoughts on page 162"

"'How is she?'

'Better. She makes no mention of her abilities. If they remain.'

'Good. But is she still...' A muscle flickered in his jaw. 'Does she still mourn him?'"

First question he asks. "How is she?" Followed by if she's still in love with her ex-fiance. And I can hear the screaming now, "HE ASKED BECAUSE HE WANTS TO OWN HER" but like, on page 165 of ACOFAS, we get:

"I can't stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes."

Truly a stupid plan to fake a mating bond with a person that is causing you to be eaten alive with guilt and longing. We know the second he's around her, Lucien's is overwhelmed with the mating instincts and feels guilt over Jesminda, which is why he spends little time around Elain. He also tells Feyre, on that same page, he doesn't want his life to be financed by Rhysand. Feyre practically begs Lucien to move back to Velaris, to work for her full time, to let her set him up somewhere nicer and Lucien declines it all. If his plan hinged on getting closer to the IC, to using Rhys' resources, why tell her no? Why not take her up on it? Why not make him part of her life in a much more tangible way?

And finally, the dreaded scent of the mating bond. Feyre doesn't risk talking to Rhys when she's in Spring for fear of alerting everyone to the scent of the bond. Azriel, too, cannot stand the smell of it to the point he stands in the doorway during solstice rather than come in.

Ladies, Gentleman, and Non-binary pals of the jury, examine the evidence. For Lucien to be a villain, he has to KNOW that Feyre is a daemati before she does and both leave his thoughts unguarded while constantly assuming she MIGHT be picking through them. He also has to be able to control large amounts of people at the same time via the smell of the bond and Elain being able to feel it. When he tugs, she responds.

It would require everyone around them to be incredibly dumb. Feyre and Rhys basically share a mind and while they don't necessarily trust Lucien (unfairly imo), I firmly believe one of them would have picked up on a fake bond or Lucien's scheming.

Lucien wanted Jesminda, not Elain. If he decided to punish the world around him for the consistent pain he was enduring, he doesn't need Elain to achieve this. He's friends with Feyre. He has contacts all over Prythian. He didn't need to fake a mating bond, nor does it make any sense to do so. What they have is REAL.

And lastly, the bond can't be broken. Rejected, yes, broken no. Regardless if you think they'll keep it or not, they ARE mates and Lucien is NOT the villain who will be heroically slaughtered. They're awkward, they're uncomfortable, they have shit to work out but they ARE mates, and Lucien has proven over and over that all he wants is a home and goddamn peace and quiet.

[ttuesday]

Hi! Could you do one where the fellers take care/react to a reader who has depression and is having a bad day/few days? Thank you! <3 <3 <3

I hope you get through this slump anon, honestly I’ve felt the same way too recently but I’m sure we’re both gonna get through this wave of bad days <3

Arthur

Arthur noticed your change in mood after the first day. He could tell something was off but he didn’t want to push you for answers. He had asked you if you were ok and you’d always reply saying you were fine, though that was an obvious lie. 

After a few days and seeing no improvement in your mode, Arthur decides to push you a little more. This time after you said you were yet again ‘fine’, he sighs “You sure? You seem down lately”. He isn’t great with his words and scared of saying the wrong thing.

He knows that whenever he feels down that saying around camp can do more harm than good, so Arthur suggests you go stake out Cornwall’s factory with him for a mission. Nothing much happens but giving your mind something else to focus on certainly helps.

If you do decide to tell Arthur about how you’re feeling, he stays quiet and nods along to everything you say. Even if you only tell him a small bit, he feels honoured that you trust him enough to say it and he makes sure you know that no matter what, he’s always going to be there for you.

Charles

Charles could tell from your demeanour that something wasn’t right. It’s the little things Charles picked up on, like how you now had to force a smile more often or how you always seemed distracted during conversations. 

Charles overheard a few of the others asking if you were ok and you always gave the same answer so he didn’t bother asking you that question again. Instead he asks if you’ll go hunting with him. He tells you how he needed an extra pair of hands acts totally casual .

After a nice ride through the forest and some relaxed conversation, Charles leads you through to a small opening where he apparently saw some deer. He hopes being out in nature and away from everyone will help your mind relax.

He doesn’t push you to talk about how you feel, Charles just wants you to have a good time and to have a genuine smile on your face. If you want to talk about your feelings then Charles is happy to listen and try to come up with solutions but ultimately he just wants you to have a good day.

Dutch

It took Dutch a few days to fully realise you were feeling down but he does notice it eventually. First he just presumed that you were feeling down because a job didn’t go to plan but he got worried when you’re mood didn’t seem to lighten.

His first approach to trying to cheer you up is by giving you materialistic goods. Dutch surprises you by giving you a shiny new pocket watch he just so happened to ‘find’ somewhere and he even gives you some money form the donations box and tells you to buy yourself something nice.

But Dutch can see that his plan didn’t work. Sure materialistic items are nice but they didn’t change how you were feeling. It’s times like this Dutch is happy he has Hosea to give him some advice on how to help you.

While the gang is distracted serving up dinner, Dutch pulls you aside and says “I know you haven’t been yourself lately and I know I can’t make you talk to me but if you ever feel like chatting, I’m always here for you”. He doesn’t want you to feel forced into talking but Dutch wants to make sure you know he’s there.

Micah

Micah knows this sounds kinda creepy but he likes to keep an eye on you when you’re in camp. So because of this, it’s actually pretty obvious to him when your mood changes.

When he tries to get you to open up first, he’s very abrupt and straight out asks you what’s wrong with you. But when he realises this method only pushes you further away from him, he attempts to take a more relaxed and calm approach.

When he sees you’ve trailed off by the edge of camp, Micah follows you out with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He’s always found it easier to talk when he’s had a drink and he’s hoping you’ll feel the same. 

He doesn’t expect you to tell him all about how you feel but if being there and occasionally annoying you works as a distraction from that dreadful feeling, then he’s happy to do that. He wants you to feel like you can tell him things like this, even though he understands he ain’t the most trustworthy person out there.

John

John can be kinda awkward at times and sure, he doesn’t know how to have those deep emotional conversations but he cares about you and genuinely wants the best for you.

He tries to be subtle about it and says little comments every now and again like “Well you know where I am if you wanna talk” or he’ll compliment you throughout the day, just to make sure you know how great you are as a person.

But when he sees you’re not feeling any better, he starts to worry. On the outside it’s easy to see John as someone who doesn’t notice the change within you but the truth is John sees it but he’s scared that if he brings it up, he’ll accidentally make it worse. 

In the end, John goes with what he feels in the moment. Seeing the sad, drained look on your face, John’s almost sure his heart is breaking. Sighing, he holds out his arms and says “C’mere”. John hugs your for as long as you need, not daring to let go first. Sometimes you’d be surprised how great a hug can be.

Javier

Javier likes seeing your smile. It’s the one thing that’s guaranteed to make his day better. One of his favourite things in the world is making you smile, especially since it gives him that butterfly feeling in his stomach. So he’s recognises when your smile seems too forced or as though you’re smiling without genuinely feeling happy.

Javier sits with you and reminisces about old memories, hoping stories of goofy robberies that somehow didn’t get ye killed would make you smile. And it works! …but only for a little while.

Javier knows that this feeling comes and goes, and that sometimes it can seem like it’s in the background of your mind for weeks. When he first left Mexico, he had strong feelings like this too so he knows how each day can differ and how the feeling fluctuates.

But Javier tells you he’ll be by your side for all of it. He wants to be the shoulder you cry on and for the nights that seem long and dark, he’s there. He lets you rest your head on his lap and Javier hums a few songs as he runs his fingers through your hair.

Bill

We all know what Bill is like. It can take him a while to understand how you feel but the main thing is he tries to help in whatever way he can. At first he thinks that you just feel sad over something. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal and Bill just thinks the feeling will fade in a few days. But it doesn’t.

Something that always helps Bill destress and forget about life’s problems for a while is playing with Cain. He’s convinced that dog has superpowers cause Bill’s in a good mood whenever Cain comes around. One day when Cain comes over to Bill for some belly rubs, Bill gets you to join in too.

You spend the rest of the afternoon with the two of them, using Bill’s bandana to play tug of war with Cain and laughing when Cain flops down on Bill, tired from all the games. 

As ye relax, Bill distracts you some more by telling you a few stories, like when he drunkenly mistook a cow for his horse. Bill doesn’t care if he has to tell you a thousand stories and pet a thousand dogs with you, if it’ll make you smile again then he’s willing to do it.

Sean

Sean wants to be the most helpful person ever. He wants to be there for you through it all, holding your hand each step on the way. Seriously, when Sean sees the shift in your mood and notices you aren’t your usual self then he holds on to your hand and doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.

Anytime you want to talk, Sean has no problem stopping whatever he’s doing and giving you his undivided attention. You’re so goddamn special to him and he’s scared of losing you, so he puts 110% into making you feel more comfortable in yourself.

Whenever Sean hears about a robbery or sets up a job, he always brings you along, whether you wanna go or not. He doesn’t think staying around camp all the time is good for you so whenever he goes out, he drags you out with him for a change of scenery

Does Sean know what he’s doing or if he’s helping you overcome this? No, he’s just winging it but this man will literally do anything if it means getting you out of this slump.  

Hosea

This is Hosea, of course he notices when you become more reclusive and depressed. Hosea’s a strong believer in love and support helping people get through anything, and so that’s what he gives you. 

It doesn’t matter where ye are, what time of day it is or if you’re in the middle of a shootout, if you need Hosea then he’s there to reassure you and tell you everything’s going to be alright.

He understands how it can be hard to talk about things like this and how sometimes it feels like you can’t put your emotions into the right words. If you try to talk about how you feel but start to get upset, then Hosea stops you and instead suggests you just sit with him for a while and wait for the feeling to pass.

He never tries to pressure you into talking and if anyone gets pissed off cause you’re not ‘pulling your weight’ around camp then Hosea becomes absolutely furious with them, unholstering his gun making sure the person knows they’re a fool for saying such a thing.

[saphirered]

Saph I hope you feel better! I really liked the VM Snow White you just posted, but could you also please do the same prompt but with M9 boys including Molly? If you’re not feeling up to it that’s fine too!

Thank you! The meds are beginning to do their job luckily. I'm glad you liked the last one. I blinked, my hand slipped and now it's here. Prepare for some angst. Hope you enjoy! 😘

(Caleb)

Caleb had always known his past would come to haunt him. He was prepared for it. Prepared to take the hit, take responsibility for everything and he’d face his past be that with or without the people he loves. Part of him, once he got used to having these fools around, having you around, wanted it to be on his own, to protect them and protect you. To not have any more lives lost in the grand scheme. The people he loves becoming collateral would be unacceptable. But you had become collateral in the grand scheme of things.

When it became clear to his enemies he was a bit more attached to you than the others, they took this weakness and exploited it. They pushed his buttons before, using you as a tool, verbal bait even, but he never fell for it. His reluctancy to act on his feelings, to keep them to himself instead, were the very thing he hoped would keep those loose ends from latching onto you. His love is a curse, the objects of his desire always to be torn away from him no matter how hard he tries to prevent it. He’s lost you to that same curse. Not lost. Almost lost.

You’ve been cursed, your conscious mind separated from your unconscious body. Simple healing spells wouldn’t do the trick here. This curse holds no roots in the divine. He’s spent days researching and that much he could confirm. This curse would take an arcane approach. Something he prides himself in to be his specialty. Lucky you. Lucky him. He had the others bring all books, ancient scrolls and other sources of knowledge brought to him, along with a wide variety of components once he’d made a significant dent in the research matter, assuring him this would have the greatest chances of success.

It’s not the soft canopy bed with the plush pillows from the fairytales you’re placed on. Instead you lay on a wooden table, inscribed with all sorts of arcane sigils. Nor do you look like some angelic peaceful being. Your brow is furrowed in discomfort, your hands balled into fists at your sides. Caleb moves a brush against areas of exposed skin, painting symbols to match with precision and care, afraid to even make a single mistake, triple checking every mark. He speaks the incantations while incorporating the components varying from precious gems crushed and whole, herbs and incense. And then he waits. He doesn’t expect the effects to be immediate, often with these magics it is not and he knows that but that doesn’t get rid of the impatience and fear.

“How I long to hear your voice again. I know this will work but that doesn’t ease away the sliver of doubt. What if… What if… That’s what I keep asking myself. I know it’s stupid.” Caleb wipes an hand over his brow as he pulls up a chair and sits at your side, elbows leaning on the table careful to avoid any sigils just in case.

“It also faced me with the harsh reality that I held off telling you how I feel. It looks so stupid now in hindsight because what good did it do anyone. In the end you still ended up paying for my mistakes. I was stupid to push you away, try to convince you your own feelings were unreciprocated. I know I didn’t have you fooled in the slightest but to know I could have loved you, it makes me feel like I am to blame for wasting that opportunity and possibly shortening our time together. The thought of losing you before having given you my love will forever be my greatest regret.”

Caleb watches the muscle of your hand unclench and relax. He hears a deep intake of breath and staring at your face he’s met with your smile, one filled with love as he helps you sit up. All is good once more.

(Fjord)

Fjord’s drenched to the bone, out of breath, anger running through him like he’s never experienced. Still he’s unsure if his anger is directed at the one responsible for your eternal slumber or at himself for making a ballsy move that didn’t pay off in the slightest and in fact backfired in a worse way he could have ever imagined. He played a game of chicken with Uk’otoa and lost. He’d have been fine by letting someone else pay the price for him. Why should he care about some stranger becoming victim to the leviathan? The one who paid the price, became the victim to his actions didn’t end up being a stranger. It had to be you of all people hadn’t it?

Uk’otoa must have been watching his dreams, even his waking actions if that were possible and have seen his infatuation with you. When the leviathan threatened Fjord in another briny dream of his mentioning your name he had called bullshit. The snake had never been able to reach out to anyone it didn’t already have some kind of grasp on. Little did he know Uk’otoa had just that. Just enough of a sliver through him, and the Cloven Crystal to get to you.

So there Fjord sits at your bedside. You’re just as drenched as he is, hair dripping, skin glowing in the candle light of the room reflected off the water particles. Your lips are tinted blue, a redness around your eyes, your skin is cold. The sleep you’re in is a state of perpetual drowning and Fjord knows what it feels like, to drown. He can only hope you’re spared that pain. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to forgive himself if you are tortured like so because of his actions. Clasping your hand between both of his he runs his fingers over your knuckles. He bows his head. It still feels so wrong to not have you respond to his touch. So wrong.

“I want you to know that I am to blame for your fate. I’m about to do a very stupid thing to make it right. I know you’d tell me not to but I can’t sit by and watch you suffer like this. I’ve tried everything. I’ve begged and bargained. I’ve shouted at the skies but I got no reply. Everything comes up empty and I see no other choice than to do this. It might sound stupid but I came to ask for your forgiveness.” Fjord pauses. Usually he would have gotten a reply. He would sell his soul for just having you tell him everything will be alright. It’s a good thing he’s about to sell it for so much more than that. It’s worth it. It’s worth having you alive and well.

“I won’t ask for forgiveness for what I’m about to do because I will never regret it. I ask only you may one day forgive me for what I might become. I need you to know I love you and did, will do all of this out of love. That’s why I hope you’ll never see me again after I give myself to Uk’otoa. I can’t bare to watch that affection in your eyes being replaced by hatred, but most of all disappointment. I hoped to be worthy of your love and I will always regret never having truly experienced it.” Fjord’s voice cracks slightly. He studies your face, as if to ingrain every detail into his memory, as if he thinks he might never see it again.

“I’m afraid. I’m so deadly afraid.” Fjord whimpers pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before he lets go. He checks his supplies, taking out the Cloven Crystal, glaring at the orb intensely cursing the thing to oblivion. Coughs pull him out of his staring match with the crystal. Your body moves, leaning over the edge of the bed vomiting up brine. Fjord drops the orb and his belongings running over to you and helping you gather your bearings until you’re no longer chocking on sea water.

“You better not do what I think you’re planning with that orb or so help me Storm Lord, I will drown you myself.” Fjord can’t do anything but laugh despite the very real threat on his life as you pull him into your embrace.

(Caduceus)

Caduceus isn’t bothered by death. Death is part of life as much as living is. It’s inevitable. Every soul will move on, leaving its vessel for the earth, the fire or the wild things to bring forth something new. What does very much bother him are perversions of death, those who try to cheat death, upset the natural balance, maim and manipulate that what is and should be. He hates it with a passion and seeks to rectify it, return the world to that balance when faced with it. That’s where you come in. You much like him have a respect and understanding of life and death similar to his own. Very few people understand that. Very few people do not fear the end when they see it coming. You’re one of those very few people.

You understand Caduceus on a different level, in his sentiment and mannerisms while others may think him strange. Not that he cares if people do, you’ve been his filter in the big shiny new world past the borders of his grove. You’ve been his safety net, his grounding force, his safe haven when the world seems against him and he thinks his senses might be wrong. The Wild Mother must have gently blown her winds to bring you together.

That’s why it seems so wrong you’re affected by this darkness having taken hold over your body, leaving you in a state of not entirely alive nor dead. Resurrection has been futile as much as draining your life and allowing you to move to the care of the Wild Mother herself. You’re trapped and that’s why Caduceus fears what would happen should you die. He’s seen what this perversion of life and death has done to his home, the forests surrounding it and the creatures living in it. He’ll do everything in his power to prevent that from happening to you.

Caduceus has put your body through the typical burial rites and rituals, preserving what he can by using wards and the divine blessings granted to him by his goddess, sending her prayers of your recovery but you appear to be even beyond her reach now. He moves a damp cloth across your arms and face, brushing aside your hair, humming to himself until he’s done, moving on to clean the room around you, getting rid of the dust, placing things back where they belong and replacing the decayed flowers with fresh ones. Caduceus gathers his tea, preparing a cup for himself as he watches you.

“Can you show me how they’re doing?” The wind grows cold. He knew that would be the answer but still he could hope maybe that answer could change.

“Are they in pain?” The wind grows warm but then cold again. You were, but not anymore. It seems that the new wards he’s put up are doing their job. That’s good.

“Is there a cure?” The gentle breeze disappears. She doesn’t know then. This goes even beyond the goddess herself but it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Caduceus will keep hope, though it is dwindling fast, for your sake he’ll have hope. He’s always spoken to the dead before and while you’re not really dead, there’s a strange comfort to something that feels so final.

“Hey. I’d ask you how you’re doing but that’s not gonna work now, is it? Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine. I know you are. You’ve managed to keep me alive with the others for much longer than I’ve been taking care of you like this. I think we’re going to be fine. I know you’re here but I still miss you. Calliope makes for terrible company watching things unfurl between the others. She’s too much of a hopeless romantic. You forgot to tell me the recipe to that special brew of yours. I’ve been trying to recreate it but I haven’t been able to. I think what I’m trying to say is, I could really do with having my best friend back. That’d be nice.”

Caduceus sips his tea, face devoid of his usual dopy smile. A sudden breeze hits through the window, blowing it open. A few lighter weight and loose items go flying but the thud of a heavier one is clear to hear. Caduceus closes the window and feels something solid hit his boot. It’s a crystal from the ones surrounding the grove. He picks it up, feeling the warmth run through it. The breeze directs towards you and he feels himself walking over to your body. The crystal calls to you and when it touches you your body runs with energy, pulsing, like you’ve been forcibly pulled back to this world. You look around eyes wide breathing heavy.

“Hey.” Caduceus smiles. “I made tea.”

(Mollymauk)

Maybe pretending you and him were some high born assholes was a questionable decision. Taking on an invite directed at the said people you were impersonating even more so, and stealing, sorry, borrowing without asking, some things from their summer cottage to swim in luxuries, an out right terrible idea when these people happen to be very well connected.

So when these fancy folk came back to the cottage earlier than expected, the two of you had grabbed what you could before making your grand escape, chased by their private guards until you lost them. A safe distance away you set up camp. Time to inspect your findings before returning to the carnival. Your eye for valuables had always been much more keen than Molly’s and your appraisals usually spot on. It was only natural he would let you do your thing but he’d still help you.

Particularly proud of getting some ornate jewellery box Molly had pried it open and revealed the jackpot. But of course you couldn’t just sell recognisable jewellery as is and you couldn’t keep such a thing on you very long. So of course you went to work, prying the stones from their settings. A particular necklace was giving you trouble, not even your tools being able to pry it out, you even broke one so you left that one for last.

The two of you had argued, eventually setting on just smashing the stone with the pommel of Molly’s scimitar, the broken gem still providing plenty of pay and not being as recognisable in peaces. So you held the necklace across a stone while he smashed it. When it did a spark hit, next thing he knew you were on the ground, your hands burned where you held the precious metal. At first he thought you were simply knocked out but when you didn't wake up he grew worried. Splashing water in your face, shaking you, lifting your legs, nothing got you to wake up so instead he carried you and the jewellery back to the carnival. Two days and still you didn’t wake up. It became clear this bloody gem was cursed when dark veins started crawling up your skin as the days passed.

Since this was technically on him, Molly took care of you. He makes quite a doting nurse when he wants to be but never without an inappropriate comment or two. It was quite strange to not hear you laugh at or scold him for these comments. Nevertheless he’d fluff up the pillow beneath your head, provide you an extra blanket when the night was cold, tell you stories, or simply the events of the day, the people who came to the carnival, some things he lifted from people’s pockets and so on. Molly has to say he’s ashamed to admit he’d got frustrated with your unresponsiveness or rather the fact you still hadn’t woken up and there was nothing the others could do for you. A healer would still be a week or so out.

“You know, while I’ve really begun getting used to these little one-sided conversations and your lack of judgement at some of my more terrible decisions I really prefer sharing them with you in the moment. I’ve gotten caught by the guards twice now and without you, Gustav is getting a bit sick of bailing me out. I miss our little flirtations. I miss your sometimes wrong opinions, though you’d say they’re proven facts. I miss your company. I think our time apart has given me time to reflect how much you truly mean to me and how much I need you in my life.” Molly leans on his elbow as he studies your face unmoving. You look so peaceful and asleep but he’d much rather get lost in your eyes when you’re awake.

“I laughed at you when you told me the most valuable thing in the world anyone could ever give another is their heart but I think I know what that means now. I’ll offer you mine if you will have it. So please, come back and make sure my head doesn’t get up too high into the clouds or I might just float away.” Molly leans back looking at the ceiling of the tent with a sigh. He’s pulled out of his mind by a snicker.

“A dramatic confession of love to the unconscious target of your affections? And you call me cliche.” Molly looks at your face, eyes still closed but smug grin clear on your face. He pokes your side making you jump.

“You are insufferable.”

[shorkbrian]

Plzzz for the love of god I need more bully Bakugo

Prelude - here have some food. Part 1

Pairing - Bully Bakugou X Reader

Warnings - NSFW, degradation, spanking, noncon, dub con, all the cons. Dead dove.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4VezGgvwNY3mtTbAEkmRMY?si=NxDxEMfERc-3flSDuq8kpQ

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

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

Another slap to your ass, and you’re sure that if Bakugou’s hand wasn’t covering your mouth, you’d be wailing so loud that it could be heard across campus.

You’d been avoiding him after that weekend, after he’d tied you down and edged you for hours, laughing at you, occasionally pulling the vibrating dildo out of you just so he could push his cock into you, make you gush around his length. It had been torture, and scarring, and traumatizing, and you couldn’t even think about going to class for the first few days after he had sent you out of his dorm with a smack on the cheek and a “See you around, little bitch.”

There had been no way you were going to the classes you had with Bakugou. You were avoiding him like the plague, blowing off those classes, only creeping out of your dorm when you absolutely had to.

But you couldn’t avoid him forever, and he had told you as such when he grabbed you, shoving you sideways and into a family bathroom as you walked to one of your classes, head held low, feet hurrying.

“I can’t fucking believe you.” The blonde slapped your ass again, the flesh already raw and bruised. “I have the best weekend of my entire life, and then you fuck off and hide. “

Bakugou had you bent over at the sink, face half-squished against the dirty mirror, his hand clamped over your mouth, the other hand abusing your ass. You had been wearing sweatpants, but they were somewhere by the door, thrown there along with your underwear.

“Keep crying bitch,  you know it just turns me on.” Bakugou chuckled darkly, noticing your tearstained face in the mirror.  “Fuck, you look good like that. You’re so pretty, you made me do this.”

He was so volatile, mood unsteady and often changing for the worse. You couldn’t keep up, just openly sob into his hand.

“How does that make you feel, huh?” He asked, and if you weren’t about to be actively raped, you might’ve laughed. He sounded like a therapist, a fucked-in-the-head, psycho-the-rapist type thing. 

“Knowing that I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t such a pretty little cocksucker. If you weren’t so weak and pathetic, you could fight back. You could even tell someone.” Bakugou laughed again, voice rasping in your ear “But you never do. I bet you secretly enjoy this shit, huh - want someone to fuck you up and make you their little bitch?”

You shake your head, or, at least try to, but Bakugou doesn’t let you. He’s keeping your legs spread with his feet inside of yours, his crotch now pressed against your burning ass, his hand wrapped around your hip to slap quickly at your pussy.

“Yeah, you’re a sick littler fucker, I knew from the second I saw you. Looked like a bitchy little slut, only good for keeping a cock warm. This is all your fault, stupid whore.”

Logically, you knew that what he was saying wasn’t true. This wasn’t your fault, bakugou was just a rapist, a horrible man, this wasn’t your fault at all. But some nasty little part of you reared back at that statement, whispering that maybe it was.

Maybe you had encouraged him by excusing his behavior at first, when the man had first started pushing you around. Maybe it was because you had worn something a bit too revealing, or had done something suggestive while he was looking? You didn’t know what you had done to catch his attention, but you wished on everything holy (and everything unholy too) that you hadn’t. 

You jerked away from his touch as he began groping at your cunt, palming over your mound, slipping his fingers through your pussy lips roughly. Your movements only served to push you back into his crotch, and Bakugou rutted forward, trapping you between his fingers and his cock.

“Tch, you’re a piece of work. Crying like that, almost fuckin’ pissin’ yourself like a little girl. Can’t believe I actually fucking like you.”

All movement stopped. 

Wait, did Bakugou just say he liked you?

Before you had time to even consider that thought (why would he do any of this if he liked you?), Bakugou was swearing, retracting the hand molesting your pussy so he could work on unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans, pulling his cock free.

He was having trouble trying to achieve all of that one-handed, so he leaned forward, hissing a threat into your ear before taking his other hand away from your mouth. The second he did that, you sucked in a real breath, nose too stuffy with snot and mucus to be able to take in much oxygen.

“B-bakugou, ple-please... “

“Ple-ple-please what?” He cooed sweetly, mocking you as he worked his cock free of his boxers.

“I don’t wanna do - I don’t want to, I don’t wanna do-“

“I don’t fuckin’ care, ain’t that clear? But keep beggin’, I like that shit.”

His cock was pushing through your folds now, hips roughly rocking you forward against the sink, which you grabbed onto the edges to steady yourself. 

“No, no no no no, no, no-“ you sobbed, unable to say much else. You couldn’t do this, it was too much! His cocked was nudging against your clit on each thrust, and it was sending shocks of pleasure into your belly, making it draw tight. You felt disgusted with yourself.

Bakugou’s hands were on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as his hips worked his cock against you. He was grunting softly, breathing heavily already. And his cock was so hot pressing against your flesh,  and you could feel his precum getting smeared everywhere down there, it was so dirty, you wanted to throw up. 

The family bathroom was dirty too; it smelled weird, and  the mirror had smudges and what looked like a lipstick stain on the bottom edge. There was some kind of crusty buildup around the sink drain, not to mention the discoloration around the toilet. 

The state of the bathroom reflected how you felt inside - tainted, disgusting, used.

“Mmh, You gonna cry harder if I put it in?” Bakugou had his hand wrapped around his cock, tapping it upwards against your pussy, laughing as her flinched with each messy slap.

The man didn’t actually care about getting an answer, or maybe the way you burst into another round of tears was enough of an answer for him. He was leaning forward, draping his weight across your back, pushing his mouth right up against your ear.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna pound your little hole, and you’re gonna watch every second of it in that mirror, understand?”

You looked up at your reflection in the mirror, puffy eyes, puffy lips, top askew, bottom half bare. You tried to pretend that you couldn’t see Bakugou’s cock starting to slide through your folds again. You couldn’t stand this, couldn’t look, so you closed your eyes, bowing your head.

“Ah, ah, ah babe - if you don’t look-“  You heard the sound of the impact before you felt it. But when your bruised ass registered the hit, you screeched, almost crumbling atop the sink. It hurt so much, oh god, it hurt. “-that’s gonna happen. So I suggest you open your fucking eyes, and watch.”

Blearily, you opened your eyes, staring numbly at yourself in the mirror.

Bakugou grabbed a handful of your ass, kneading it roughly before spreading your cheeks apart, hand guiding his cock to line up with your entrance. It felt so awful, all of it. There was pain, and shame, and disgust, and you were mortified that the little candle of pleasure in your stomach was turning into a bonfire. At least Bakugou wasn’t a savage, or at least not interested in seeing you bleed (this time, he’d kneed you in the face once when you tried to refuse to suck his dick and given you a nosebleed) because he went slow. Well, as slow as a guy like him could go.

It was still entirely too fast, the way he entered you, pushing his hips forward easily and filling you up in one rough thrust. 

You watched from the mirror, legs spread apart far enough that you could easily see when Bakugou was balls deep, his hip bones jutting against your ass. Your poor ass, you don’t think you’d be able to sit for a while after this.

The man paused when he bottomed out, breathing heavily, chuckling almost maniacally as he made eye contact with you through the dirty mirror.

“Fucking shit, you’re so goddamn tight. Mmh-“ he jostled his hips, his cock rubbing against your walls deliciously “-So wet too. You’re such a fucking slut, bet you’d gag on any dick you could find.”

You shook your head “No-no, I don’ - don’ do that!”  You wept, but any further argument you were about to make was cut off by Bakugou pulling out, then thrusting into you as deep as he could.

Eyes still focused on where his cock was forcing you open, your jaw relaxed, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. You hated it, you hated it so much, but Bakugou was good at this. He was ramming into you, not fast, not slow, but hard and deep. Every few strokes he would shimmy his hips, and his cockhead hit something inside of you, something that made your legs weak and your pulse jump.

An excruciating pain bloomed across your ass, and your eyes snapped open - when had you closed them? You caught Bakugou’s gaze, and shivered. He was sweating, brows furrowed, intensely focused on watching your face in the mirror. 

The intensity he was exhibiting scared you, honestly. Of course, Bakugou was pretty much always intense in everything he did, from playing football to studying (you’d seen him once in the library, hunched over his books with a scowl that could wilt weeds), but you’d never seen him look at something, at someone, like that.

He noticed you looking back at him, which made his cheeks color, and then another slap was delivered to your ass, and you yelped, jolting forward from the pain.

“Ba-akugo! I didn’ - please, I didn’t do anythingggg.” You openly wept. 

You were ignored, Bakugou choosing to pound you harder rather than respond.

  “Fucking look at yourself, damn. You’re nothing more than a stupid cockslut, a little whore. No one’s ever gonna want you, you’re absolutely worthless.” He spat, threading a hand through your hair, pulling your head back. You had to follow his hand or else he’d rip your hair out, an unspoken threat, so you did, until your back was flush against his chest.  He wrapped a hand under your thigh, hiking it up into the air, forcing you to go on your tiptoes as he hooked your knee over his elbow, spreading you open.

“Look at that. See how wet you are? I can hear it.” He growls in your air, breathing heavily.

He was right, the slick sounds of him messing up your cunt reverberating in the bathroom. You could only watch as his cock hammered into you, his pace picking up quickly. 

You started to cry, really cry. Ugly, heaving sobs, where you couldn’t breath, your head throbbing towards a horrific headache, hands uselessly grabbing at Bakugou’s arms, not to stop him, there was no way you could - but to steady yourself from the brutality of his thrusts.

“Oh fuck, fucking christ, ‘m close, shit.” Bakugou gasped, and you wiggled in his hold, hyperventilating. You knew it just turned him on more, made him fuck you harder, but you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to dislodge his cock. He couldn’t cum inside, please.

“Not-not inside! Please please please not inside, Bakugou ple-ase!”

Bakugou didn’t respond, just panted in your ear, low groans rumbling through his chest as his hips humped against you, driving his cock into your cunt with a sloppy squelch on each rapid thrust.

You felt him cum.

You felt the first few ropes of warmth shoot inside you, but then the blonde was pulling out, jacking his cock onto your pussy, striping the rest of his cum over the outside of your cunt. It was humiliating. 

But you figured it was better than inside.

“Mmm, fuck bitch. You always know how to get me off. Good little pussy.” He finished humming, giving his wet cock one last tug, before messily slapping his hand over your cunt, rubbing his cum into your skin. It felt disgusting. 

You let him do what he wanted, let him rub circles over your clit, let him abandon the little nub in favor of sticking two of his cum-covered fingers inside of you, rubbing at your walls quickly. It felt good, but you were tired, and you didn’t want it to.

“Alright, I got class. Wanna suck me clean?”

His hands retracted from your body, and he let your leg down, pushing you away from him as gently as he could (which wasn’t very gently). A side step, then he was in front of you, washing his hands underneath the sink. You watched him blankly. 

“Well? You gonna suck me off? Or just stand there like a goddamn fish?”

You slowly dropped to your knees, cringing at the bathroom floor. It was nasty, dirty, probably covered in piss and maybe shit an-

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, I’m gonna be late.” Bakugou was looking at his phone, before his eyes flicked to you. He grabbed a handful of paper towels, dabbing at the mess covering his dick.

“How ‘bout you meet me after my class, and we’ll both get a little treat? Would you like that, stupid bitch?” He crouched down in front of you, pinching your cheek as he talked to you in a cutesy baby voice. 

When you didn’t respond, he grabbed your chin, yanking you forward until you were inches from his face. “Say yes, or you’re not gonna like the shit I’ll do to you.”

“Ye-yes, yes Bakugou.” You spluttered, trying to stop hiccuping on sobs, but failing pathetically. 

Bakugou nodded to himself, before pausing, as if appraising you. His eyes wandered over your face, and the next thing you knew he was kissing you, lips soft, passionate.

When he pulled away, you were left dazed, still kneeling on the ground. The man rose to his feet, stomping over to where his backpack hung on the door. He stopped to pick up your underwear from your sweatpants, pocketing the fabric as he grinned at you.

“Don’t forgot about meetin’ me after class, got it? Make me wait and I’ll beat your ass.” He paused, cocking his head to glance at your backside, before laughing. “Eh, or maybe I’ll just fuck it.” His eyes gleamed as he straightened his head. “So don’t be late.”

And with that warning he was shouldering his backpack, kicking your sweatpants towards you, slipping out the door.

Belatedly, you realized that your clit was still buzzing, that the pleasure clenching up your stomach hadn’t crested. 

With a sob, you let your fingers find their way to your pussy.

[lowkeyorloki]

lbd

After a fight with Loki, you wear the smallest dress you can to an Avengers press event...

(smut smut smut)

~

The party was awful.

Stark’s press events often were. It was interesting, how the media had changed over the past eight years. In 2012, you and the rest of the Avengers would only be seen on news stations. Now, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to for your names to be in tabloids next to celebrities like Taylor Swift or Noah Centineo. The team wasn’t just heroes anymore, you were public figures as well.

Hence the formal attire, the flashing cameras, the expensive wine. These events only happened about once a year- they were manageable. Just a pain. Besides, you always had Loki to endure them with.

Except, not tonight. And so, the party was awful, not just boring.

The argument you had with Loki last night carried over into today, and when you were asking him about the event, he gave you no answer. Never in a million years did you think he would ignore during this. The press, the world, had never really forgiven him for New York. He was hated by the general public. It didn’t help it was a well-known fact he was with you: you, the youngest Avenger. You, who had been America’s golden girl until Loki corrupted you.

That was what everyone liked to say. Really, you just got older. And cynical. You couldn’t fight the worst of the worst throughout the universe and remain idealistic. 

You and Loki had to stick together for public appearances. The reporters tore you to shreds if you didn’t. And besides that... You didn’t like not being around the god. It was so much better to face things with him. You were together. Even when things were tense, the two of you could always lean on each other. That was the nature of your relationship.

And yet, here you were, halfway through your third glass of champagne, giving Steve a half-hearted smile as he spoke. Every so often, your eyes scanned the large hall, eventually falling on Loki. He avoided your gaze each time.

You wanted to be angry, or bitter. That’s what you felt earlier today when he wouldn’t speak to you. Loki wordlessly dressed in his suit, looked you up and down in your floor length dress, and left your shared room. In a fit of rage, you had dug through your closet for something that would anger him. No, not anger. That wasn’t the right word.

Entice him. Make him protective. Despite your life with him, you were still seen as the innocent Avenger. The normal girl who stumbled into justice. You never wore short or form fitting clothes anywhere there would be cameras. You were modest. That was the role you were pidgeonholed into. Social media, combined with constant interest and exposure, ensured that. In 2020, half of being an Avenger was perception. Every team member was an archetype. Every team member adhered to that. Outwardly, at least.

So when nothing in your closet would accomplish what you wanted, you raided Natasha’s. She helped you pick out something no one would expect you to wear: A silky black body con dress. When you tried it on, it barely came halfway down your thighs. There was little left to the imagination, considering its length and low neckline. 

You paired it with heels, and painted your nails Loki’s shade of green. Natasha gathered your hair into a messy bun, leaving your neck exposed. Even Wanda joined in, brushing sparkles over your collarbone. You looked unlike you ever had before.

Honestly, you looked like Natasha did on a daily basis. That brought you some amount of comfort, knowing you wouldn’t be sticking out. But it went without saying you didn’t look like yourself, and no one had ever seen you like this. The press would have a field day.

But it wasn’t them you cared about. The only person you were thinking about was Loki.

And he didn’t even do a double take. When you first walked into the room, his eyes rested on you just a second. Then he turned away.

So you didn’t find yourself angry like you were just a few hours before this. When Loki ignored you, you only felt... Sad. Empty, almost. You had been upset with each other for less than a full day, but you missed him. If there was no animosity between you two, Loki’s hand would be on the small of your back right now, and he would be whispering into your ear. Sharing jokes about everyone at the party, wrapped up in each other.

You fought so little. It was something you weren’t used to. 

“Hey.” Steve sticks an elbow into your ribs, pulling you from your thoughts. Next to him, Bucky wears a worried expression. “You okay?”

You sigh. Tipping your head back, you drain the rest of your drink and then nod.

“I’m fine, Steve.” he looks uncertain. “I mean it. I can last one night without him. Just because I’m in a relationship doesn’t mean I’m any less independent.”

“I believe that.” Steve agrees.

“You only believe her because that’s how you are.” Bucky grins at Steve, leaning over to steal a quick kiss from Captain America. Steve smiles, just barely, and holds Bucky’s hand in his own after the dark-haired man pulls back. Your eyes flicker away, but a genuine smile grows on your lips. You love to see your friends happy. They deserve it, your whole team does. 

It’s moments like these, when Steve is focused on Bucky and you on Loki, you remember you and Steve used to date. It seems like a completely different time, but it wasn’t even ten years ago.

You were with Steve when Loki attacked New York.

“I’m going for a refill.” you state. Both men look uncertain. You pay it no mind. “Do either of you want anything?” 

They shake their heads in response, so you make your way over to the bar. There’s no one there, not even the bartender, which bothers you at first. Then you realize it’s exactly what you need. Just a few minutes alone to clear your head. The bar is in same room as everyone else, so classical music and conversation are all around you. Still, you manage to find solace.

It’s quickly interrupted. 

“Hello, darling.”

Loki.

His breath tickles the back of your neck as he speaks. As soon as you’re aware of his presence, his smell envelops you. You shiver, noticing how close he must be to you.

You don’t turn around.

“Hi Loki.” you greet him back, eyes forward. You voice almost shakes, and you exhale, willing yourself to keep cool. Loki was always so calm and collected, something he used as a weapon. Clearly, even against you.

Loki hums, and his fingers softly begin to dance over your bare shoulder. 

“You look different,” he states. “With those shoes, you almost reach my height. But darling, you have never looked so small.” Loki’s voice drops on that last word, and a wave of heat flashes through your body. You set your glass down on the counter next to you, worried whatever Loki does next will cause you to drop it.

“Funny.” you say. “I don’t feel small.” You know Loki, know what the word small is code for. “Or weak.”

Loki tuts, and his large hands slide from your shoulders to your hips. Your dress is so short that his pinkies lay on your bare skin.

“No, I suppose you don’t.” Loki leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he talks. You can’t help it, you tremble, your surroundings beginning to fade away as you focus on the god. “I bet you felt quite powerful, teasing me in this dress. Talking to Steve Rogers.” Suddenly, Loki pulls you into him, and you gasp. His length presses completely against your ass, and you are barely able to bite back a moan.

This is harder than you’ve ever felt him. Your breathing becomes hitched, but Loki’s strong grip keeps you glued to him. His fingers dig into your hips, and you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow.

“Did you think,” Loki rolls his hips against you, causing a mewl to escape your lips. “...that I would forget your past with Rogers? That it had just, slipped my mind that he is the only man you have ever laid with besides myself?” Loki’s lips connect with the crook of your neck, pressing wet kisses there that are anything but gentle. “Or was that the point? To make me jealous?” Loki’s next words shake you the most. “Can you even count the amount of times I have been inside you?”

Just like that, his hands relax, and you begin to catch your breath.

“Smile.” Loki points, and you notice the groups of reporters making their way to you, cameras flashing. Loki pivots, turning both of you so you face the them. He drops one hand to his side, but the other snakes around your waist. It won’t be obvious in the photos, but his fingers are dangerously close to your heat, filling you to the brim with want.

Just as you manage to get yourself under control, the cameras begin flashing. You force a smile, and when you look at Loki, he’s staring straight ahead, expressionless.

You hated getting photos taken, knowing the headlines they would be paired with. But Loki hates it even more. You were always the victim in the media’s eyes, but Loki had never outgrown the villain. He worked so hard to be good, so hard to change. And for what? No one believed him, save for you and his brother.

Your heart grows heavy, and despite the fight, despite the teasing that left you melting in his arms, you want Loki to know you appreciate him. 

You tug on the front of his suit jacket, capturing his attention. Loki looks down at you, confusion in his eyes. You reach forward, placing your hand on the back of his neck and tugging him down so his lips met yours.

It was filthy, the way he kissed you in front of the press. Loki once again pulled you to him, your chests pressed together. He laid his hand on your back, and thank god he did, because it kept you grounded. Your teeth clacked together more than once, and Loki gave you no opportunity to gather yourself before he sucked on your bottom lip. Your were eyes closed, but you still heard as the reporters went wild, cameras snapping as they each tried to get the juiciest shot.

Loki was the one who ended the kiss, tugging away from you. He took your hand in his, waving with the other. In the crowd, you could see Steve standing in shock, arm around Bucky’s waist. Stark was next to them, looking furious.

Loki makes eye contact with you before he briskly walks away, tugging you with him. You have no time to ask where it is he’s taking you before you somehow slip into the kitchen unnoticed.

The kitchen staff stops, and you realize what this must look like to them. Loki, with a hungry look in his eyes, and you, swollen lips and practically half-naked. Jesus, was this where you thought the night was going?

“Get out.” Loki addresses the staff. They share glances, unsure of whether to listen. Loki sighs. “We are two hours into a four hour party. No one ever comes for food, they just want to drink. You are no longer needed. Now, get,” Loki’s irises flash green. “...out.”

They listen then, rushing out of the doors and through the backroom that will lead them from the building. The locks on each door click shut, surely a result of Loki’s magic. 

“You.” you squirm under the god’s harsh gaze. “Are a very. Stupid. Girl.” with each step Loki takes forward, you take one backwards, until your back is against the tiled wall. Your heart begins beating fast. You look to Loki’s pants, taking in the tent. Your heart rate accelerates even more.

He places his hands on the wall, one on either side of your face, trapping you with him. Wordlessly, Loki begins sucking on your collarbone, his lips moving down your breasts until they hit the neckline on your dress. Your eyes roll back, and you grip Loki’s hair tight. He rams his knee in between your thighs, and you cry out. 

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he rolls his hips, and now that you’re alone, you can feel and experience it to the fullest expense. Your mouth falls open as Loki presses his clothed length against your clothed sex, moaning and letting out a string of curses. “Look at me, darling.” You listen, obeying Loki as he removes his knee. 

Loki makes full eye contact as he takes your left breast in his hands, kneading and massaging you as he gauges your reactions. You begin panting, and soon enough, Loki grabs the front of your dress with both hands and rips it, exposing your bare breasts.

You hiss at the sudden cold, but it doesn’t last long as Loki sucks on your nipple, running his calloused thumb other the other. Loki swirls his tongue, and you whimper, arching your back. As the sensation builds inside you, Loki takes a steps back, drinking in the sight of you.

“The media won’t soon forget this. Until now, the worst they had caught us doing was holding hands.” he growls. His lips are redder than usual, and his hair was messy because of your fingers in it. “I can imagine the scolding from Stark.”

“Who cares about Stark? You just ruined Natasha’s dress.” you say, your voice strained. His absence is noticeable, and your body aches for Loki’s touch. He raises an eyebrow.

“Sweet girl, whose fault is that? None of this would ever have happened if you simply dressed appropriately.” the hair on your arms stands up. Loki hums. “I think you should make it up to me. You got us into this mess, did you not?” Loki smirks.

The feeling in your stomach builds up again, lust taking over you. You take off you heels, and sink to your knees. Loki’s pupils dilate as you move closer to him.

You unbuckle his belt, sliding it off and discarding it on the floor next to you. Slowly, you unbutton Loki’s dress pants, your fingers catching on the tip of his underwear as you do.

You want to draw this out, to tease Loki as he teased you. But when you see his hard length, and the damp spot on the cloth holding it, you can’t bring yourself to. Loki is a god, much stronger and faster than you. When you turn to dust, Loki will be as young and full of life as he is now.

But his needs are the same as any other man’s. You’re determined to fulfill them.

You brush your mouth over him, causing Loki’s eyes to close momentarily. When they do, you waste no time exposing him. Loki fingers run through your hair immediately, grasping tightly. You can hear his breathing become just a bit irregular. 

You keep your eyes on Loki’s as you lick him, from shaft to head. You lap at the precum there, then slowly take him into your mouth.

Loki lets out a sigh, his lips parting, and you rub circles onto his hipbones with your thumbs. You bring your arms against your chest, pushing your bare breasts up to make them appear bigger. You want to give Loki the best view possible.

It must have worked, because Loki’s hips buck forward. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you almost gag. Instead, you moan around him. setting a slow pace. Every so often, you flick your tongue across his head, and Loki tugs on your hair when you do.

Loki quivers, and he’s thrown his head back now. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth open, and he looks so pleased. Pride washes over you at the thought of you making him feel this way.

You bring your hand up, taking the parts of Loki that your mouth just can’t reach. With the added freedom, you circle his tip, switching up the pressure and surrounding him with your warmth. Carefully, you cup his balls, making sure every part of him is paid attention to.

Loki groaned as you fucked him with your mouth, cheeks hallowed. He begins panting, holding your head even tighter. His shirt has ridden up over his navel, and the sight nearly drives you crazy.

“I’m going to-” you don’t let him finish, picking up the pace until Loki jerks forward, spilling his seed with a curse.

There’s so much, some dribbles out the corners of your mouth before you can swallow it all. Your chests warms at the idea of part of Loki being inside you. You’ve barely leaned back to catch your breath before he’s pulled you up and into a kiss, groaning as he tastes himself on you. Your body becomes slack, relying entirely on Loki’s for support. 

“You’re insatiable.” he says into your mouth. He picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Loki carries you to a nearby counter and sets you atop it.

Your dress is hiked up to your hips now, leaving you covered in just a g-string. As Loki begins to take it off, you stop him.

“Wait.” you say. He stops, giving you a surprisingly soft look. “I just...” you splay your hands across Loki’s strong chest. “I want to see you too.” your voice is quiet. 

Loki places his hands over yours as you unbutton his shirt. You slide it down his shoulders, then trace his collarbones and curve of his abs. Under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, Loki looks even more pale than usual, the sharp contours of his body illuminated and exposed.

You never grow bored of the sight of him.

Now fittingly bare, Loki’s fingers travel up your thigh and stop at your sex. Similar to you, his gives you a few strokes over your thong before he rids you of it in one fluid motion. He angles himself to you, his tip teasing your entrance as he smirks at your noises. 

He enters you all at once. You bite down on his shoulder, nails raking down his back. You hold tight to Loki as he sinks into you, moving in a slow and almost tantalizing way. There’s sweat on both of your bodies, and despite your exposed state, you feel yourself heat up. 

Loki’s rhythm increases as you adjust to him. His hips move back and forth, and your bodies move in tandem, made for each other. You coo into Loki’s ears, moaning about how good he felt. How breathless he made you, how only he knew how to make you feel this way. No one knew your body like Loki.

The coil inside you finally snaps as Loki hits a pleasure spot deep inside you, and you let out a cry into his shoulder. Loki cums not long after, his body going tense as he rides out the wave of pleasure.

He holds you, rubbing your back as the aftershock rocks through your body. You shake, exhausted and satisfied as you close your eyes for a moment of rest. 

Eventually, Loki sets you back down on the floor. He tugs your dress down over your legs, and tucks stray pieces of hair behind your ears. You watch him wordlessly, allowing him to take of you.

After Loki is dressed himself, he gives you the jacket of his suit to wear.

“Oh.” you look down, remembering he ripped your dress. You slip the jacket on, buttoning it to protect the little modesty you have left.

He takes your hand, leading you to the door and back into the party. Before he does, you stop.

“I’m sorry about our fight.” you say. Loki lets out a chuckle, making you feel silly.

“Oh, sweet girl. After a tryst like this, I can assure you all is forgiven.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Time of Death

Dr. Derek Shepherd x Reader

Words: 1966

Summary: Receiving the news after coming out of a long surgery, Derek rushes to comfort his fiancé whose sister committed suicide.

Notes: I hope to write some fluffier McDreamy imagines and more for Grey’s Anatomy, but when I got this idea, I had to go with it. This is a very very dark story, so it will not be for everyone, but I really had an interesting time writing it. As always, I’d love to know your thoughts and if you guys are excited for more Grey’s Anatomy imagines. 

Warnings: Suicide, grief, guilt (This starts out fast so I’m putting the break at the beginning so if you don’t want to read, you don’t have to.)

-

You couldn’t hear them say it but you still heard it in your head. Time of death… You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the clock. Time had stopped. Everything had stopped. As you looked down from the gallery, nobody in the O.R. seemed to be moving an inch. Until Dr. Bailey looked up at you. As soon as your eyes connected, everything started again but it started too fast. Your heart was beating too fast, your legs were moving too fast, the tears were coming too fast. 

Your sister was dead. She threw herself in front of oncoming traffic. Her body was so broken that even Bailey couldn’t put it back together. Your baby sister killed herself. 

Nurses and doctors alike watched you sprint by.  Fellow residents, interns, attendants, all of them watched you run like maniac through the halls of the surgical wing. Of course, you were careful not to be in anyone’s way, but you had to disappear. 

“What’s with Mrs. McDreamy?” Cristina asked George and Meridith quietly. 

“Her sister just died on the table.” Izzy sighed, having been with you in the gallery. She looked at the floor. “Jumped in front of a car.” The other interns’ eyes widened. 

“She killed herself?” Meredith whispered, her gaze following your running form down the hall. “Has anybody told…”

“He’s been in surgery for hours.” Cristina shook her head. “I doubt he even knows she was admitted.” 

“Should someone page him? Should someone go get Y/N?” George wondered but nobody moved. They all just looked at each other. Cristina crossed her arms. 

“I’ll go. Somebody has to go tell Dr. Shepherd that his future sister in law turned herself into roadkill.” 

“No.” Meredith blurted. Cristina’s bluntness was the last thing anyone needed right now. “I’ll tell him.” Meredith and Derek were at least friends. He needed to hear this from a friend. 

-

Derek smiled as the water ran over his hands. After several long hours, the surgery was a success. The 18-year-old girl was going to be okay. Thanks to him. Another life saved. His smile grew when Meredith stepped into the room. 

“Dr. Grey, you missed a pretty amazing surgery.” He beamed. Something about her face was off. 

“I’m sure you did very well Dr. Shepherd.” She wasn’t looking at him. 

“Meredith what is it?” He dried his hands quickly and followed her out into the hall. Her expression made that cocky smile of his fall. “Meredith?”

“A Cierra Y/L/N was admitted about when you started your surgery.”

“Y/N’s sister?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “It seems that she ran in front of a semi truck. Dr. Bailey did everything she could but… she’s dead, Derek.” 

“Cierra… killed herself?” Derek ran a hand down his face. “Does anyone know why? Are they sure that’s what happened? Does Y/N know?”

“We all saw her run down the hallway, so I’d say she knows.” 

“Do you know where she went?” He exclaimed, raising his voice. He didn’t have time for the doe-eyed confusion. He needed to know where you were. Meredith just shook her head. He calmed down enough so he wouldn’t yell. “Thank you for getting me.”

He took off, scanning the hall for any sign of his fiance. As he hurried past doctors and patients, he thought of Cierra. He’d never even met her. Sure, you had mentioned that you had a younger sister, but you didn’t say much other than that. But suicide? It was how you lost your mom when you were in medical school. This was going to hit hard and he needed to make sure there would be pieces of you left. 

“Dr. Shepherd!” A voice called out behind him. He reluctantly stopped his pursuit to turn to Dr. Bailey. She gave him a sad, grim look. “We did everything we could, but the extent of her injuries… I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do.” 

“Have you seen Y/N?” 

“Since she couldn’t operate with us, she stayed and watched from the gallery.” She sighed. She paused for a second before putting a hand on his shoulder. “I think I know where she might have gone.” 

Bailey had found you there once before. You’d lost a patient and needed a quiet place to be alone. If there was ever a time you needed a quiet place to go, it’d be now. She brought Derek to a closet on the fourth floor. It was mostly filled with extra linens and paper and such so it wasn’t used often. Bailey knocked on the door, but received no response. Slowly, she opened the door. 

“Dr. Shepherd?” She called out into the dark storage room. With still no response, she let Derek pass her. 

“Y/N? Honey, I know you’re in here.” His eyes adjusted and he could see a form standing behind one of the shelves in the corner. He exchanged a look with Bailey. She nodded in understanding. 

“I’ll go tell the chief. You’ll probably want to be heading home.” As she turned to leave, Derek put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Thank you, Miranda.” 

The chief resident quietly closed the door behind her and Derek walked further into the closet. The closet may have been small, but you felt far away. Hearing the sound of him approaching, you turned your head. 

“Cierra is… she’s- they said that she-” Every time you tried to finish the sentence, your mouth stopped. Like your body was trying to deny what your mind clearly knew. Derek tentatively put his hands on your shoulders. When did he get in front of you? 

“I know.” 

He pulled you to his chest and you tried not to push away. You wanted to. You wanted to run again. But his arms wouldn’t let you. He kept you from drifting away. 

-

Chief Webber had all of your surgeries for the next few days rescheduled or taken over by Dr. Bailey. Derek rescheduled the ones that he could, but some of his surgeries were on a time crunch. After he drove you home, he was paged back to the hospital for an emergency. He told you what it was, but you couldn’t remember. 

You didn’t even remember the drive home. You remembered the bloody surgical tools and the machines and the clock, but it didn’t have any numbers on it. You remembered running in the halls and Derek finding you in the closet. Now you were home. Now you were alone. Alone with the knowledge that you killed your little sister. 

Your brain started a single train of thought. You moved slowly, every motion draining more and more energy out of you, but you still made your way to your closet and found your suitcase. You couldn’t put this much pain, this much baggage on someone with a heart like his. To you, this was mercy. 

-

When Derek finally returned home, not a single light in the house was on. His shoulders were weighed down as he tossed his keys on the counter. The surgery was a success, but he didn’t feel that usual rush of adrenaline that came from saving a life. He just wanted to get back to you. 

He was about to call out for you when he saw something catch the light. Sitting on the kitchen table was your engagement ring. 

“Y/N!” He called out, tucking the band into his pocket and ascending the stairs two at a time. He burst into the bedroom and found your suitcase sitting on the bed, clothes hurriedly piled inside. “Y/N!” 

Light pooled into the room from underneath the bathroom door and was sure he could hear something inside. Derek knocked lightly before slowly cracking the door open. 

“Y/N?” His voice was quieter now but still held the same amount of urgency. You just whimpered in response. He opened the door fully, finding you sitting on the bathroom floor having thrown up any meals you had that day. 

“It’s my fault, Derek.” You cried, your voice so low he could barely hear you. “Cierra killed herself because of me. I can’t force you to live with that too.” You pulled your knees up to your chest. 

“Honey…” Derek sat beside you, putting on a hand on your cheek to make you look at him. “Cierra was sick. She’d been sick for a really long time.”

“She was sick because I left her.” You spat, jerking away. “I abandoned her when I moved here for my residency. I knew what she was going through, stuck living with my dad, and I went off to medical school anyway.”

“Deciding to make a life for yourself and to help save lives was not abandoning her.” He took your hand in his and this time, you didn’t pull away. “Y/N, you called Cierra every chance that you got. As far as you knew, she was getting help in San Diego. She told you she was getting better. You couldn’t have known how bad it had gotten.” 

“Then why did she come here, Derek?” You felt that sick feeling in your stomach turning and twisting again. “Why drive up to Seattle and jump into oncoming traffic close enough to be taken to Seattle Grace unless she blamed me?” 

Derek was quiet for a moment. Your body was still shaking from both sobs and from getting sick and you looked desperate for answers that he couldn’t give. 

“Maybe she wanted to see you one last time. This was her way of doing that.” 

It may not have been the answer you wanted to hear, but it was enough to get you to calm down. Derek shifted so that you were sitting in front of him, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your arms from behind. He gently kissed the top of your head and pulled your ring out of his pocket. 

“As for this…” He held the band out in front of you. You just stared at it, laying your head back against his shoulder. 

“I was leaving.” You were half packed before your body ached so much it made you sick. 

“I noticed that.” Derek blew out a long breath. “You said you ‘couldn’t force me to live with that’. Is that how you think? That leaving will spare me of your faults?” 

“I didn’t think that you…” You sighed, trying to collect your reasoning into words. You spun around so you were facing him, holding his hands in your lap. “Derek, you love saving lives. You walk into life ready to save someone else’s. I couldn’t make you look at me everyday knowing that I was responsible for Cierra’s death.” 

Derek lifted your hands up to his chest and laid them flat over his heart. 

“This day- this tragedy- does not define who you are. You are still the beautiful, talented, brilliant surgeon that I fell in love with. The one I asked to marry me. You will still be that woman tomorrow and the next day and the one after that. And if you ever need reminding I will ask you to marry me every single day until we walk down that aisle together because I’m not backing out. Better or worse.” His gaze searched yours for a reaction. “Okay?” 

All you could do was nod and lean back into his embrace. You stayed there on the bathroom floor, his legs on either side of you and your head tilted back against his chest. While Derek’s words didn’t erase everything from that day, they helped to take even just a little of the weight off of your heart. It was enough, at least for now and so you slipped your ring back onto your finger and fell asleep in his arms.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[nickyhemmick]

A Very Stressed American Jew here again,

Hi! Thank you for taking the time to respond to my ask and yes, I’m someone who loves hearing as many perspectives as possible so I’d love some sources from you. I also very much appreciate the fact you are being very careful to only reblog posts that are anti Israel, not antisemetic (which is frankly a breath of fresh air, the internet has been a bit exhaustingly full of both antisemitic & Islamaphobic content these past feel days as I bet you’ve seen)

I’ve also been to Israel on a Birthright trip. We met people who ( both Palestinian and Israeli) on various sides of the conflict and learned a ton about it, from both perspectives which I was lucky to have the opportunity to do. We even went a little into the Gaza Strip to talk to these people running a pro Palestine peace movement and it was so important to me hearing those stories.

I never said they were on equal footing militarily, they definitely are not, Israel definitely has that advantage. But you are incorrect about Israel always being the aggressor since 1948,they’ve defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Isreal is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack.

I 100% agree that there are too many people who are compliant with the mistreatment of many Palestinians! I’m not anti #freepalestine at all! I get why that is a thing. But I also stand with Israel( but that does not mean I condone every action they take. ) Overall I think the situation is extremely complicated and some sort of compromise should be reached.

It’s just been very frustrating to see so many people reblog things on a situation just bashing Israel because so many others are doing it. Especially when then don’t know what they are talking about or using big buzz words that they don’t know what they mean, or spreading misinformation. It’s been on both sides and has been very very draining. I just want peace and some sort of solution. It makes me extremely happy you know what you are talking about and can debate politely yet happily about it. The internet has been so ‘ either agree with me 100% or you a bad person’ about this so it’s refreshing to see you are not like that.

I’ve done a lot of research into it from as many perspectives as I can get my hands on.

Some extremest Israelis are hurting Palestinians

Some extremest Palestinians are hurting Israelis

Both sides are throwing rockets at each other and it’s terrifying.

Both sides claim the other side is brainwashed

There is so much biased propaganda out there on both ends it’s hard to know what is truly happening.

I know people living in Israel who have sent me videos they’ve taken of rockets flying over there heads and I’m so scared for them. I’m so scared for all the innocent people caught in the crossfire on both sides.

Thank you for a more nuanced response and I’d love some of your sources,

A Very Stressed American Jew

Hi anon, 

I wasn’t going to respond to this until after my math final tomorrow but I’ve spent the past two days thinking of your ask and the things I wish to articulate in my answer. 

I am going to start here: how can you say you support Israel but say you are also pro-free Palestine (as in, you said you are not anti free Palestine). In my opinion, these two ideas cannot coexist. Simply because, the entire establishment of Israel has been on violent, racist, colonial grounds. 

(Super long post under here guys)

You said you don’t support all Israel’s actions, and definitely, just because you support something doesn’t mean you can’t criticize it. However, in my opinion, if you do not support Israel’s actions against Palestinians there’s not much left to support? I admit this is a very biased view as I am Palestinian, but many things that people support about Israel have existed before its creation: as in, these are things and qualities that have existed in Judaism and are not due to “Israeli culture.” There is no Israeli culture. There’s Jewish culture--100%. But there is no Israeli culture, because Israel does not only steal Palestinian land, but Palestinian culture, too. Such as claiming Levant food is Israeli; hummus, ful, falafel, shawarma. I mentioned food from this article I know is culturally and traditionally of the Levant, and has been for centuries, it is not something that has come to culinary creation in the past 73 years. 

I do not think this is a complicated issue. I said that in the previous ask and I’ll say that again. Saying it is a complicated issue is trivializing the deaths of innocent Palestinians, the violent dispossession our ancestors endured, and the apartheid they live under. I hope if anything comes from this discussion it is you removing the “it’s a complicated issue” phrase from your vernacular. 

This is not complicated. A journalist reporting the death of martyrs only to discover that of them include two of his brothers is not complicated. The asymmetry of Israel vs Palestinian armed forces is not complicated, nor is the asymmetry in Israeli vs Palestinian suffering (which I will get to later). It is not complicated.  Destroying the graves of martyred Palestinians (or just in general, the graves of the dead) is not complicated. Little children being pulled from the rubble, children being forced to comfort one another as they are covered in the ashes of their decimated homes, attacking unarmed citizens in peaceful demonstrations (you can find videos before this attack where they were playing with kites and balloons), destroying an international media office and refusing to allow journalists to retrieve the work they are spending every waking hour documenting but claiming it was because it was a hide out for a “Hamas base,” fathers who are trying to cheer their frightened children up only to end up dead the next day, while many Israeli have the privilege and the option to go to hotel-like bomb shelters is not complicated. 

This brings me to my next point: the suffering of Palestinians cannot be compared to the inconvenience of Israeli’s. On one side, you have children who are happy to have saved their fish in the face of their homes and lives being decimated behind them to Israeli’s in Tel Aviv having to cut their beach day short to get to bomb shelters. You have mothers and fathers ready to set their lives down for their children to save them from bombs to Israeli’s enjoying their brunch only after making sure there are bomb shelters there. You have Palestinian children being murdered to blocking out the sound of sirens in the safety of your bomb shelters. (The first picture of the Palestinian child is not from footage of the recent problems). You have the baby lone survivor of a whole family recovered from rubble. His whole family, gone, before he ever had the chance to realize that he even exists, while Israeli’s decide to flee out of the country,(Translate the caption from Twitter, it checks out), or have to leave the shower due to sirens. Who is really suffering? 

I won’t sit here and pretend like the thought of rockets flying over my head, no matter which side I am on, is not terrifying. It is. It’s scary to just think about. But Israeli’s have protection beyond Palestinian’s, they have sirens to warn them (Israel does not always warn Palestinian building members that it is about to be bombed), they have the Iron Dome, they have simply the threat of nuclear power (which I am not saying Israel would use, but the simple fact they have it would make me feel a lot better if I were an Israeli citizen) and they have bomb shelters. What do Palestinians have? Hamas? That smuggles its weapons through the ocean? That only ever reacts to the action Israel instigates? And yet Gazans are branded terrorists and that it is their fault that they “elected” a terrorist organization that only was ever created due to no protection from any armed country? (There are so many links I want to add in this paragraph but it is simply impossible for me to add everything I want, a lot of what I’m referring to can either be found through a Google search, or you can stalk my Twitter account, all that I am posting now is about Palestine, and will include sources of things I cannot add in just this one post.) 

Look, I see myself in the genocide happening in Palestine right now. I see myself in this ten year-old girl. In this three year old girl. I see me and my family in videos of cars being attacked in Ramallah and Sheikh Jarrah (I cannot find the Ramallah video, should be somewhere on my Twitter), I see my father in the countless videos of fathers crying out for their children, of kissing the corpse of their loved ones (again, translate the Tweet, the man holding the body is saying “just one kiss”). I see my grandfather in videos like this (old footage). I see my younger brother, I see my grandmother, my mother, my aunts and uncles and cousins. I see myself and my life and my family were my father not lucky enough to get a scholarship to the UK and out of Palestine, were my maternal grandfather not been lucky enough to make it to a refugee camp and build a life in Jordan. I have an unbelievable amount of privilege to be born into the life I was born in to, in terms of I do not have the threat of bombs and violent dispossession around me, and I do not even live in the US. I have privilege and sheer luck that my parents were able to go to the US so that me and my brothers can be born, because now I have both the protection of the most powerful country in the world while at the same time being part of a people to have suffered so generously the past seventy-three years. 

On the other hand, you saying that Israel has “defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Israel is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack,” I offer you this question: why are they using military grade guns and stun grenades in mosques to “defend” themselves from rocks? And before you mention that Hamas hit Tel Aviv, I remind you that Hamas did that due to the violence in the Al-Aqsa mosque square and the attempted ethnic cleansing in Sheikh Jarrah. The violence didn’t begin with us; the violence was brought out of Palestinians in resistance to the generations of oppression we have endured and the attack on Palestinian Muslims during the holiest night of Ramadan. Hamas has since asked for a ceasefire multiple times and Israel is refusing. New reports say there is a possibility of a ceasefire in the coming days, but Israel could have decided this a long time ago and spared many lives. (Remember, no matter what resistance we make, Israel is the one in power).

Israel has been the aggressor since 1948. Just read up about the Nakba! 700k Palestinian families were dispossessed violently. The only reason Israel was established at all was because it simply declared it was now a country and the US and many other countries recognized it as such. (Of course, there are many other historical details here, like the British Mandate of Palestine, the Balfour Declaration, the Oslo Accords and many others. I am aware of them but these are for a different post all together). My paternal grandfather was a little younger than me when Israel as a state was created. The hostility that followed was due to this independent declaration being listened to over Palestinian voices. 

Here is a very, very simplified analogy, one that can also answer some people’s questions as to why Palestinians (not Arabs, we are Palestinian before we are Arab) did not like what happened in 1948 and why they refused a two-state solution (that Israel was never going to go through with anyway). (I am also aware other Arab nations got involved, and that is perhaps what you mean when you said they had to defend themselves, but my response to that would still be we didn't start it, that we only responded to it).

Let’s say you are a farmer. You have many fields of trees, ones you have taken shelter under from the sun since you were a child, or hid behind when you wanted to avoid your parents when you misbehaved. You have seen your trees grow from a seed, to a sprout, to a flower, to a large, beautiful tree with fruits the size of a fist. You pluck the fruits from one tree, and make a jam from it. I don’t know how to make jam but I know it takes a lot of energy. So, you make this jam and from it, produce a lovely, mouth-watering pie. Once it has cooled from the oven, you take it with you outside your balcony just so that you can admire the years, months, weeks and hours this one pie has taken to be created. Suddenly, a stranger walks past and yells to you, “That pie looks delicious, I want it!” And you, shocked at their boldness but ready to share, say, “I will give you a bite.” But the stranger says, “No! I do not want a bite or a slice or whatever you want to offer me, I want the pie!” And they grab it from you. You and the stranger start screaming at one another about who the pie is for, who is allowed to decide what happens to it, and who you can share it with. Then, another stranger comes by and says, “Why all the problems? Let’s cut the pie in half and the both of you can share it!” But why should you, who has spent years cultivating the fruit and grain inside this pie, share it? Why should you give up half of the 100% that you already owned? Of what you already had? So you disagree, and now a crowd has formed around you. “What’s the problem?” someone in the crowd calls. “They don’t want to share their pie!” another voice says. Then you become branded a selfish, mean bastard. Again, this is a super simplified analogy, so don’t take it too seriously, but I am trying to show you why Israel is the aggressor.

In addition, I do not know too much about the Birthright program, just that American Jewish people are sent to Israel, all expenses paid. I tried my best to find the Twitter thread but I read it so long ago, about an American Jewish person who went on their trip and they talked about the propaganda that they were exposed to on that trip. I can’t say for sure that it is true, because I haven’t been on it and never will, but that is the first thing I thought of when you mentioned your Birthright trip. Either way, I think it is still great you went and saw the country. However, I must ask you this: are the people you met ones you, yourself, sought out, or ones you were organized to meet?

Now, I haven’t been to Gaza, so I don’t know what you really saw or didn’t, but did you speak to Palestinians who lost their homes to airstrikes? Did you speak to siblings, parents or children of loved ones who had been lost beneath the rubble of buildings and towers? Outside of Gaza, did you speak to Palestinians that live in poor quarters? Ones who have been victims of an IDF soldier shooting them, or who have family members who have died from such attacks? Did they take you guys to Ramallah, to Nablus, to Beit-Imreen, to Jenin, to small villages in the West Bank, far away from Jerusalem and Tel Aviv? Did you speak to people there? Ask them their stories? Because if you did I have a very hard time believing you still think Israel is “defending” itself.

I’ve been to Jerusalem, many times, even Tel Aviv and Jaffa and Haifa. All the times I visited Dome of the Rock there were IDF soldiers with huge guns strapped to their person, standing menacingly outside the courtyard. For what? Genuinely, genuinely for what? It is nothing but an intimidation tactic. The same way we are not allowed in through the airport. If you could see the struggle some Palestinians actually go through just to get into Palestine, through the land border, you would be disgusted. I love Palestine, it is my ancestry land, it is my culture and tradition. But I always hated going to visit because I knew the way to getting there would be hell.

My father worked in Tel Aviv through the first Intifada. My maternal grandfather was forced out of his home in the Nakba and was forced to leave behind his belongings and the orange trees that have been in his family for generations. Hell, the town they lived in was destroyed! It doesn’t exist anymore except in the memories of my aunts and uncles, who never even saw it, but just heard of it from their father!

I’m not saying there aren’t Palestinians who are racist and anti-Semitic (though, tbh, I will direct you here for that) and who support Hamas in killing Israeli’s, but talking about how there are many “extremist” Palestinians who are hurting Israeli’s and in the next line say there are extremist Israeli’s who are hurting Palestinians is not correct. There are extremist Israeli’s killing, lynching, stealing the houses of Palestinians, and there are Palestinians who are fed up and fighting back. (I am not talking about Hamas vs the IDF here, I am talking about the citizens). I have not seen one reported death of an Israeli due to Palestinian violence (if you have, from a trusted source, send it to me), but I have seen countless of the other way around. I have seen images of charred little bodies, of a baby being dug out of the rubble, of a child’s body that had been so mutilated that you can literally see the insides of their body coming out. (I don’t know if it’s on my Twitter, I didn’t want to save that shit). If this was my country I would be absolutely ashamed of myself and my people and what they are doing in the name of my protection. So you have to forgive me, and forgive other Palestinians, who don’t give a fuck about Israeli’s having anxiety over rockets flying over their heads when we see these images. Where is the protection of our kids? Why does no one seem to mention them except when mentioning the poor, innocent ones in Israel? At least more than the majority of them have their parents to comfort and rock them. At least many of them will probably be saved of ever having to be beneath the rubble of a destroyed building, or digging in it, to hope to find the parts of their parents or siblings just so that they can bury them. Just the links from the start of my answer is enough to support what I am saying.

I have soooo much more I can say, like how Israel uses religion to distort the image of what’s going on (tbh, just check my Twitter for that: language is EVERYTHING), but you didn’t mention religion in any of this and so I won’t either. The only reason I decided to respond to you in such length was because you have been one of the few respectful anons in my inbox in the past few years of me being on here talking about Israel, so I appreciate that from you. 

As promised, some more sources: decolonizepalestine is a good place to start if you haven’t used it already, it has reading materials, myth busting, and more. Here is a map list of destroyed localities from pre-1948 until 2017, run by two anti-Zionist Israelis. Here and here are the articles I promised of a former IDF soldier-turned Palestinian activist, I read these two last year in June and remember coming out much more informed than before I read them. I suggest looking into the writer and his organization, which, if I remember correctly, collects accounts from previous IDF soldiers. I would suggest not to follow Israel and the IDF accounts on any platform, or any Israel times newspaper, simply because they will not tell you the truth. In fairness, you do not have to follow any Palestinian Authority accounts (which I am not even sure there are), but to follow on-ground Palestinians like Mohammed El-Kurd, who has been speaking out since he was 12 (he is now 22) and he is part of the families in Sheikh Jarrah. I have noticed that this and this account have been translating Arabic headlines and tweets for non-Arabic speakers, I have just started following this person but their bio says they are a Palestinian Jewish person so I am interested in their view of things. You can also follow Israeli’s on-ground and see their perspective on things, but I would also advise to compare the Palestinian and Israeli side of things from the people, and critically analyze the language used in each case. Also, this article references Jewish scholars opposed to the occupation (I have not looked into them myself but I plan to after my exams), and Norman Finklestein is another great Jewish scholar to look into if you haven’t. Twitter is better than Instagram and Facebook, so I would stick to getting live-info from there, Twitter does not censor Palestinian content as much as Insta and Facebook so you’re more likely to see things there.

I will end this by saying I personally do not see any other option for peace than to give Palestinians our land back. Whether we may be Muslim, Jewish or Christian, it has always been and will always be our land. I only hope to see it free in my lifetime. 

Free Palestine. 

[smuggsy]

Remember this post about how Riddler dug up Elijah's body and we just... collectively chose to ignore it along with Oswald? 😂

Well. I un-ignored it. With a sad angsty fic.

(You can read it down here as well.) Word count: 2040. Tags: #emotional comfort #established relationship #hence: canon divergence #nightmares

Oswald's used to having nightmares. He's no stranger to sleepless nights, 5-am coffees have become a bit of a recurrent habit to make up for the drowsiness clouding his mind after a particularly difficult dream chimes in without permission and throws his sleeping schedule off — so much that he often finds himself power-napping through the day when Ed isn't around to tell him off for it.

Yes, he's almost grown too accustomed to Hugo Strange's voice narrating all sorts of gruesome scenarios that he ends up carrying out of his own volition, propelled forward by an unknown and invisible force deep inside. He never really sees the Doctor, but he hears him all the time, he's just there all the time. He tells Oswald what to do and Oswald does it without a pinch of remorse. Shoot him. Stab her. Blow them all to pieces, they deserve it.

It's the kind of hell he's used to. He's almost learnt to accept it's never going away. That it's a part of his psyche now, a part of him that will never really go away — because how do you fix a tattered mind? He wouldn't let anyone try, anyway. Not after Arkham.

This night is different. This night he's assaulted by a new kind of terror, almost perfectly calibrated and specially curated for him. Blossoming from the deepest part of his mind where he'd stocked it, never to be revisited.

And it's most cruel for one reason: when he wakes up with a startle he can't bear the thought of those arms wrapping around him and providing comfort like they've done so many times before. In fact, the first thing he does when he opens his eyes is untangle himself from Ed's sleeping embrace like it burns him.

Which means he's got no-one but himself to count on, again. No-one to hush him through the aftermath and speak softly in his ear and hum a long-dead melody until he calms down or, if he's lucky, falls back asleep.

"Oswald?"

He sits on the edge of the bed, hunched over to catch his breath, and feels Ed shifting position behind him. His partner's voice is clouded with sleep and Oswald can't bring himself to even turn around and reassure him — lie to him. He fears if he turns around he won't see Ed but Riddler. Not Ed's gentle eyes but Riddler's mocking glare. Not a warm comforting smile but a disdainful sneer.

His father, standing on the other side of the bed with a disappointed frown. My boy, how could you steep so low? Do you know where I am? Do you know where he left me?

When Ed's warm fingers brush over his right shoulder Oswald bolts upright with a whine.

"Osw—?"

And he runs to the bathroom and slams the door close behind him, feeling his one-piece nightgown sticking to his chest with sweat.

"Oswald, what's wrong?" Edward's voice is immediately on the other side, he tries turning the doorknob but Oswald is pinning it closed with his own weight, still unable to brush away the gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal that's so suddenly taken hold of him, "Oswald, get off the door."

It's a gentle request.

Oswald might have done it, perhaps, might have considered it, if he hadn't looked right into the mirror hanging on the opposite wall and seen Elijah's pale and sickness-stricken face. A dead man's face that makes him shiver.

He shall never have peace, so long as you're with him, Oswald thinks. Some other Oswald. Some other voice that sounds like his but isn't. Can't be.

"Oswald," Ed tries again, and this time he pushes against the door with more conviction, Oswald leans off and turns around to face him when he comes in, to keep him away, Riddler, he's still in there, he's— "oh dear," Ed coos, having one look at him and taking pity instantly. He takes a step forward and Oswald takes a step back.

"No!" he blurts out with a raspy voice. Edward stops dead in his tracks, lost expression for a moment before his shoulders relax again.

"It's okay, Oswald. It was just a nightmare," he adds, softly like so many times before.

"No, it isn't! It wasn't!" Oswald lashes out, hating that he looks at Ed's dishevelled face and concerned caramel eyes and wants him to just get away, his voice comes out just barely, "you did that to him! You— How could you?!"

Ed opens his mouth and doesn't move, clearly taken aback by the accusation even if he fails to comprehend, thrown off by the way Oswald looks at him, stands like that, like a wounded animal, like he might flee if Edward takes another step forward.

He still takes a step forward, though, because he never was really good with physical cues.

"Os, I don't understand wha—"

"Don't touch me!"

Oswald jerks away and hits the wall behind, still shivering despite his burning skin. Edward shows him his palms, a gesture of surrender.

"Okay. Okay, I'm not," he takes a steadying breath in, "I'm staying right here."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It's not him, I swear! I didn't—"

"Oswald?"

"He's different now! He's not like that anymore!"

Oswald gestures towards Ed, clever, supportive, thoughtful, with his checked blue pyjamas and plaid shirt and lack of glasses and puffy eyes from sleep. Then he looks back at his father now standing by the door and projects the thought: Ed. Not Riddler!

But Elijah shakes his head and purses his lips, looking him up and down like he doesn't approve and Oswald just needs him to understand.

"It's not hiiiiim!"

"Oswald, this is starting to become very unsettling."

Edward looks around, to his right, there. To where Oswald's looking, to nothing. He knows that deranged gaze, he's seen it countless times before, he's stood in front of the mirror a lot of times and seen it on himself.

"Os, it's just those new painkillers making you groggy, okay? It's a much heavier dose than the one you're used to. Whatever you're seeing," Edward chances a slow step forward and Oswald finally turns his head back to him, with glassy eyes and tears on his eyelashes and still looking like he'll run away, "it's not there, Oswald. I am here."

Oswald stares at him for a few more silent moments with a lost expression, mouth open and still bracing himself with one hand on the cold tiles behind and the other on the sink.

"You're not... you're not him, I try to— I tell him you're not," he babbles, looking feverish and lost.

That's when the penny drops for Edward. It feels like a stab to the heart, that broken voice, the trembling hands, the quivering lips, the whole sight of an Oswald so distressed he won't even let him get close enough to soothe him.

"No," Ed says softly, his own voice failing him for a moment, shaking his head and taking yet another step closer, "no," he repeats breathless, "I'm not. Please. Come here."

He reaches an offering hand and Oswald slowly looks down as if weighing his options. As if making sure this isn't a trick — which, well. If he's thinking of Riddler, he can hardly be blamed for exercising caution, Ed admits. It hurts him to admit it. To know he's caused this, one way or another. Painkillers or not. This raw incoherent fear is coming from somewhere, however small the flame that ignited it might be, and he can't fix it because Oswald won't stop trembling like a leaf and recoiling.

"Oswald, please," he begs, voice finally breaking and eloquence escaping him, retrieving his outstretched hand and rubbing fingers over his burning eyelids because if he breaks down too... "please, it's me, Ed, just Ed."

He doesn't know what to do. He's on the verge of blurting out apologies when he opens his eyes to Oswald latching onto him with one of those desperate hugs. Ed wraps his arms around him instantly, a reflex, feeling like he's just come back to life.

"Go away," Oswald says, sobs with his face buried in the crook of his neck and starts crying. Edward tightens his hold and hides his own tears in the other man's raven locks, understands he's not the one being spoken to, "go, please. I won't leave him!"

Edward can barely understand the string of pleas when Oswald's clutching onto him so firmly his words come out muffled and nearly intelligible. Either way, he's not about to ask who's there — better not add salt to the wound. Not feed the horror, lest it become a recurrent thing. He needs him to understand this is a figment of his imagination if he's not aware already.

"Shhhh, it's all good," he keeps Oswald in place with an arm around his waist and brings the other one to gently pet his hair, "it's o-kay, Oswald. I'm here, it's just you and me."

Oswald nods against his chest but he can't seem to bring himself to stop crying. Edward rubs circles on his back.

"Just you and me," he repeats, striving for a soothing voice and feeling it waver ever so slightly.

They stay like that for a whole five minutes until Oswald finally leans back, sniffs and looks up with red eyes and a self-deprecating comment on his lips that Ed doesn't let him voice out.

"Come on, it's freezing out here."

Ed guides him back under the covers and tucks him in, Oswald watches his every move like an overcurious child. That cloudy expression is gone, though, and Ed can't help but let out a sigh of relief at having him back. He looks drained but sober.

Mostly sober.

His eyes still dart around with a nervous air but he doesn't seem to find his demon anywhere. When Ed climbs back up on the bed Oswald immediately shifts closer and hides his face in his shirt again.

"I'm sorry, that—"

"No-uh-uh," Ed cuts in, brushing a strand of hair off his green doe eyes and feeling an almost compulsive need to plant a kiss on the now-red tip of his nose, "say no more."

Oswald purses his lips and shuffles even closer, pressing his flush body so firmly against Ed's that they can't exactly see each other's faces anymore.

"Can you...?"

"Yes I can."

And that's that. He settles his chin on top of Oswald's head and starts humming; content to sidestep the issue just for now but unable to brush aside the sour taste of guilt filling almost every corner of his mind.

He starts rubbing circles on Oswald's back and doesn't stop the melody until he feels the other man's hold loosen up and his breath change into a normal and peaceful pace. Only then does Edward slowly extract himself from the embrace, far enough that he can look at Oswald's face.

Red and wet and troubled, still. He reaches over and soothes the lines on his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Os," he breathes out.

He's used to Oswald having nightmares. He wakes up all heaving breaths and uncertain hands latching onto anything that's near for comfort, for safety or reassurance. Ed is always there to provide either one, wrap his arms around his shaking form and listen to him if he wants to talk. Make him a cup of tea or play soft tunes on the piano if sleep doesn't return.

Oswald's always been needy like that.

Having him wake up and frantically keep himself away, recoil from his touch and excuse himself to a third party only he can see... that's a first.

And it's terrifying.

Because He made that happen. Because Oswald's grown to be too dependant and Ed's grown to be his anchor in moments like these and if he can't even be that... then what can he be? What's left for him to be, besides the clear instigator?

Ed closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, focusing on the sound of Oswald's breathing and on the touch of his cold feet and the smell of cherry-scented hair conditioner. He relishes in the familiarity of the hold and shakes the darker thoughts away.

Perhaps he's become a bit dependant himself.

[troublesometrollhunters]

Imagine being pregnant in TrollMarket

~ You were one of Jims teachers. Recently pregnant and left alone to raise the baby you moved to Arcadia for a fresh start. However monsters and mayem were not on the pregnancy itinerary and now you've stumbled into a whole world of trouble that doesn't involve your pregnancy problems.

~ Jim swears to you as long as he's Trollhunter no harm will come to you or your baby and he's so sorry that you got caught up in this mess. However your quick to forgive and soon the Trollhunter team becomes your family, the kids becoming your own children in a way.

~ Jim is quick to cook you anything you want. If you have a weird pregnancy craving he'll make whatever you want. Pickled pears? Got it! Something super sweet? Of course. Something really spicy? Sure. Icecream? He'll get the machine and make you some! He loves cooking for you and is glad he can help outside of trollhunting.

~ Toby throughout the entire process becomes your hype man. Becoming pregnant can be hard on your body and how you see yourself. Especially since the hormones make everything seem like a big deal. Sometimes the weight is upsetting or you feel fat and like a slob other times your so tired but feel lazy for taking a nap. He's there to tell you your amazing and beautiful and you should always feel that way because it's true. Self care is key and he's determined to make sure your taken care of the whole pregnancy.

~ Claires an expert in pregnancies because of her baby brother. She helps you make a list of things you should get for the upcoming baby and enjoys maternity shopping with you. You may be a pregnant lady but that doesn't mean you should be forced to live in sweatpants for nine months. She also helps you pick out cute baby clothes and toys for the nursery.

~ Poor Blinky in his excitement mixes up troll customs with human ones and creates weird hybrid things that don't actually exist and defiently don't help the pregnancy.

~ The kids and trolls keep up on absolutely everything. You're very well taken care of the whole pregnancy. Jim makes sure your eating. Toby makes sure you take care of yourself. And Claire helps you with house stuff when you need it. Draal, Blinky, and Aarrrgh also get very involved. They want to hear about your doctor appointments and see all the sonograms and ultrasounds. (Good luck getting their hands off you when the baby begins kicking)

~ You never got a baby shower so the troll team surprises you. Claire organizes the party, Jim handles the cake and food, meanwhile Toby invites all your friends and decorates. You get gifts from trolls, people, and even changelings. Strickler didn't come but he sent an expensive gift and a nice card.

~ You don't think much of it as it's a busy fun day full of gifts, laughter, games, and love. When the parties over they have one last surprise for you. Taking you upstairs the kids are excited to show you a recently decorated nursey!

~ Blinky had painted the walls of the room to look like an enchanted forest. There was elegant trees with birds and critters and flowers full of bees and butterflies. Soft green carpet laid on the floor and you nearly cried as you looked around. Draal had built you a beautiful crib of wood with little pieces of heart stone hanging off of it. And Aarrrgh smiled as he'd put in some shelves and arranged toys. Stepping further into the room taking it in, the crib was full of fluffy pillows and soft blankets. All of them were fantasy themed with pixies or tales of fae. Hand made dolls of the trolls were in a toy bin and plushies of goblins and other creatures were placed around the room. There was a gorgoues rocking chair in the corner and next to it a shelf full of young troll books and childrens toys. There was also a wooden changing station with soft pillows for your baby that held all the supplies you needed to clean and change them. You cry telling them this is the best gift ever.

~ Bular found you by accident. About half way through your second term Goblins were chasing the trollhunting team and out of options they hid at your house since you were the closest. The U.V lights you installed made the goblins flee and you thought that was the end of that until a changeling tried to break into your home a couple days later.

~ The team decides Trollmarket was the safest place for you. Staying in Trollmarket until the baby comes and you can safely move everyone is excited. Trolls may not love humans but the fact that your carrying a life inside of you is seen as a glorious thing. Trollmarket would never turn a pregnant person away even if they are a human. You get an influx of gifts from trolls around the market and they all make a point to smile and wave whenever they see you, something they didn't do before.

~ If your feet ever become sore, don't worry about it. In human standards you may be big but in troll ones your small. Blinky, Aarrrgh, Draal they'll carry you if they see you struggling. It's also a troll instinct to want to feed anything that's tiny so be prepared for trolls constantly offering you strange things to eat because they think you should be bigger for the baby. Gifts are a common occurrence as you live with Blinky. Weapons. Troll toys. Books. You also receive a lot of interesting letters.

~ Blinky tells the babies stories every night before you got to bed. He reads human fairy tales but also tells troll lore excited. Aarrrgh snuggles next to you and wherever the baby kicks he laughs. You always go to bed warm and happy as your baby rests soundly in your stomach.

~ Draal gets very protective of you when you locate to Trollmarket. He was protective before but after the attack he's now a guard dog, constantly by your side unless the team really needs him. When the baby starts kicking he's nervous to touch your belly at first. He'd seen the others do it and he wanted to as well. Taking his hand you gently put it your stomach and his eyes widen as he feels a strong kick against it.

"They're a warrior!" He states excited and you chuckle. With who they'd be raised with you had no doubt they'd be a warrior.

~ Aarrrgh is very cuddly the entire pregnancy. He wants the baby to be warm and safe so he often curls up around you when you take naps. He's often nuzzling your baby bump and asking questions. Human pregnancies and troll ones are very different and sometimes he gets confused but he does his best.

~ Blinky reads way to many books that Claire brings over about babies. Now he thinks he's an expert on all things baby related. The entire pregnancy he gives ludicrous advice thinking it'll help the pregnancy and the baby. It's sweet but he becomes a bit overbearing and the kids sometimes have to intervene.

~ Vendel gets annoyed when the others have to leave and he's stuck with you. But as you waddle around the Heartstone complaining about sore feet and back pains he pauses. He leads you somewhere to sit down. He gives you a chunk of heartstone to hold and wraps you in blankets so your warm. Wandering away he comes back with tea for the both of you and starts a pleasant chat.

~ You've wandered into a dangerous world and your worried about your baby, about the kids. They shouldn't be alone... They shouldn't be taking care of you, your the adult! Vendel notices the sad way you say alone and care. He sees your lip tremble and it hits him your scared. He softly asks you if your afraid to be alone, if your afraid you won't get the care you need. Your hands instinctively touch the baby bump and your thoughts wander to the father who'd walked out on you. You nod feeling tears in your eyes and he gently puts his head to yours humming something soft and soothing.

"You are not alone here and you will be cared for here."

You begin sobbing relieved as he rubs your back. No you suppose you had nothing to worry about.

~ Vendel knows a lot about human pregnancies thanks to asking you and doing some light research. Blinky likes to challenge the old man about it and they often bicker about what's good and not good for you and the baby. It can be quit entertaining if not alarming.

~ Vendel gives you potions for morning sickness so you no longer puke when you wake up and he gives you tea to sooth your aching muscles. He gifts you a heartstone necklace so that peace may always be with you as you carry the baby.

~ Your in Blinkies library one day. The kids are out patrolling and your enjoying a nice night when suddenly your soaked. At first you assume you peed yourself and are a tad emabrassed but you know Blinky will understand. Calling him in for some assistance he pauses seeing you and that's when the contractions start. You didn't pee, your water just broke.

~ Going to a hospital may take too long and getting out of the canal was too dangerous at this point. You're very carefully picked up by Aarrrgh before your rushed to the heartstone. Someone had ran ahead so Vendel was getting ready as you were brought in.

~ There are soft blankets to lay on and your put on a Heartstone slab which eases the pain of labor. Trolls excitedly wait outside of the heartstone for the baby to come. Hours pass and although your sweaty and exhausted you can't help but smile as your baby is placed in your arms.

~ The kids run in along with Draal and they stare at you holding your newborn. You're covered in blankets and sweaty but you couldn't be happier as you stare at your baby. They're swaddled in a soft furry blanket holding a chunk of heartstone with wide eyes. They look around and you smile.

"Hi... Hi... I'm your mama..." You mumble holding them close. "This is your family..."

~ Vendel takes the baby to check on them and you sleep after the draining expeirnce when you wake you smile holding your child close. Vendel was the official grandpa and you'd named Aarrrgh and Blinky the godfathers of the child. You said the kids could be sisters and brothers if they wanted and you told Draal he was an uncle. They were all very excited.

~ You give your baby a human name and a Trollish one. One you'd use in the human one and one you'd use in TrollMarket. Holding them close and looking at your family you smile. You wouldn't have it any other way.

@arcadia-trash

[remsmoonlight]

— title : just drive

— word count : 1.6k words

— pairing : rick grimes x reader

— summary : never had the inability to drive been a reason to divulge, nor had it been a problem. until a horde of walkers are trailing behind you, that is.

— warnings : swearing, implication of anxiety, mentions of death / potential car accidents, mentions of blood and gore

note: two imagines in two days i can’t believe my productivity, i thought it would be funny that being unable to drive in a zombie apocalypse would be funny because it would be such a useful ability to have ( ahem ahem my non driving ass ) this was meant to be like 500 words but it got away from me, anyways enjoy three hours of my nonsense!

                               ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Burning. The sensation is fierce as you fight your own body to force more oxygen into your airways, to power you along to escape the deathly growls that follow behind you. Paranoia stokes its own fire, the feeling that walkers are much closer than they actually are push you to lighter steps in the barren dirt, the only tracks laid into its path are the ones you are currently forming with every inch you put between you.

Exactly how you’d gotten into this situation is not something you mind wants to visit currently, more concerned with your current predicament.

“ We’ll turn left up ahead, we passed a few cars a while back. “

“ That's as good a plan as any. “ You rush out in one breath, the words with a ghostly tone while you try to find your voice. Everything hurts, the idea of more running is not something you find appealing.

You wonder if the walkers are able to run, any thought to distract yourself from the aching your muscles feel at the physical exertion you’re being put through. For a fraction of a fleeting second, you turn your gaze backwards, your eyes running across the line of walkers that want to make the sky above you rain with your blood across the greenery as you flee. They do a very good job of speed walking, the amount of energy they have for being dead is something that unnerves you. Even after you have caffeine in your bloodstream, you have never had this much energy. What is their secret?

Tears blur your sight as you set your eyes on a graveyard of cars, dust that covers every inch of the metal machines show their age.

“ Rick! “ You exclaim, a new flower of hope blooming in your voice as your finger shakily raises to point in the direction of the car park. “ Over there! “

Both of you split instantly as you reach the space, your hands tugging at the handles of the vehicles, wishing with every fibre of your beings that one is unlocked — or at the very least, there is a key to unlock them nearby. Extremely nearby.

“ This one! “ Your voice carries over the distance resoundingly, the door opens with a click that blesses your hearing.

“ Yeah.. We’re lucky today. “ Rick mumbles to himself, flinging the bags that had been weighing on his shoulders into the back.

In the suddenness of the situation, your heart plummets below with a steep drop that you swore will not end. I can’t fucking drive. You gasp at the realisation of it, desperation twisting and contorting around the entirety of your body.

“ Rick.. “ Turning towards Rick swiftly, you pause in your confession. An uncomfortable heat warms your cheeks as you study him, unsure of how he would react during the worst possible moment for the disclosure. “ We need to switch places! “

“ What? “ His brows knit together as he asks you, confusing misting him completely. “ Why? Start the car! “

“ I do — I can’t drive! “

The confession leads Rick to momentarily splutter in response, his words cowering under the veil that is his tongue. Colour drains from his features, a continuous slap against the back of the car’s window from a lone walker ahead of the horde pushes him into a brisk movement. The action is awkward, the lack of space threatening to cause harm in the form of bruises from knocking limbs against various parts of its interior.

“ Just drive! “

With a haggard start, you examine the way your surroundings appear to move, realising that the vehicle is awake and increasing with speed as it puts space between you and the dead. You lean your head against the window, one of your hands moves towards the temple of your head to message some of the tension of almost being eaten away. That had been too close for comfort.

“ Uh, y’know I gotta ask — “

“ How I can’t drive, right? “ You finish, your eyes roll in response, you know he’s going to  find too much amusement in making fun of you.

“ And how you made it this far. “ He drawls, humour embedded in his response as his eyes continue to survey the road ahead.

Your teeth bite the side of your cheek, with strength that almost is able to draw the crimson liquid that lays beneath your flesh. Lips purse at the enjoyment you can feel radiating off of his body, as it wishes itself into existence.

“ I don’t know! “ You grumble loudly, your shoulders lift temporarily in response. “ I’m just always with someone who knows how to operate one of these things. “

“ You never learnt before? “

“ I mean.. I always had a fear of driving. No reason, just the thought that one wrong move and.. “ a shudder rips through your body with a blinding pace, your fingers lay tapping at your thigh. “ I could cause an accident, or even be in one would scare me to death! “

“ That’s understandable. “ Rick nods, glancing in your direction before breaking out in a grin. “ Kinda. “

A heavy groan vibrates inside of the car, you throw your hands up in the air as you realise he’s one of the worst people to divulge this information to. Your addition to the group hadn’t occurred as earlier as most of them, they’d been kind enough to accept you into their family after escaping Terminus. On a rare night, nightmares of that cursed location shatters the mirror of a dreamy slumber into a thousand shards that scar your mind for the nights that follow. Echoes of screams from those captured, treated no more than a prize cow that awaits its slaughter to service those with the butcher’s knife.

Truthfully, you’d gravitated towards the man. With the amount of trauma you’d been through, the way that when he speaks, you craved the comfort his words never lost. Certainty and confidence are still with him today, often leading you to believe everything will be alright. Even if the road between Georgia and Alexandria had been filled with gore and tears, everything has turned out fine. So far.

“ You are being so annoying right now. “ Cursing the man, you show him your middle finger.

Rick says nothing, he merely chuckles in response. You almost allow your mind to tread into the murky waters of the man you used to know and the transformation into the man he is now.

“ I just.. “ shaking his head, the cheeky glint in his eyes only sparkles more as it grows in size. “ How d’you not run into this problem earlier? “

“ I don’t know! “

“ It’s nothin’ short of amazin’. “ a gust of air is released from his lips, only now does he realise they’re dehydrating from the amount of running done that afternoon.

Trees and bushes blend into one another, creating a vivid merging of shades, providing a soothing palette to paint the most tranquil of artworks. You envy the way life has flourished under the lack of human traffic, trampling the environment without a care, you wish you could undergo the same change the way it has. The human mind has a way of making obstacles difficult for itself.

“ I just.. Can’t help but find it funny. Drivin’s.. It’s a way of survivin’ when you got more than one of them on your ass. “

“ Well I guess I am an outlier to that rule. “ your brows move with the motions your head makes as you try to muster an air of superiority over the notion.

You find yourself wishing you hadn’t succumbed to your fears, that you’d bit the bullet and studied and practiced as much as humanly possible. The fear of driving hadn’t been the only thing that stopped you from pursuing the ability, but the idea of having to take a written exam and an actual driving test? The two often colliding in an infinite clash of wills that left your insides in a constant, battered wreck every time you thought about the idea.

All you want is to be able to do that one thing, after all, so many had done so before. You’re sure that everyone, minus the children, are able to drive. Such a simple thing, you’d never thought would prove to be such a thorn in your side when you’d take the train to work. Life has a way of stitching together a set of circumstances only to treat them like dominos, destroying the work with little regard as it watches them fall one by one. The carefully nursed structure is a shell of what it used to be, the resting place of what could have been.

“ You didn’t give up, y’kept fightin’. I’ve seen people able to hotwire these things taken down. It ain’t the car that keeps a person alive, it’s them. “ He assures you warmly, as much as he wants to continue to find amusement in lacking what is now deemed as a life skill, it doesn’t take a genius to realise you’re becoming annoyed by the poking and the prodding his humour brings.

“ That’s oddly.. Uplifting. “

“ I do say these things from time to time, no need to sound so surprised. “

“ They’re so rare I forget. “ A smirk lifts the corner of your lips as you eye the man from the side. It is your turn to laugh now.

Light hearted chatter fills the limited space, conversation flowing just that little bit more freely now that danger no longer pursues you in earnest. You’re thankful for a drop of normalcy in a sea of skeletons that surround the world now, you can pretend that — even for a little, it’s a normal day.

“ What d’you say to havin’ some drivin’ lessons? “

[yan-twst]

please take care of yourself! if it's not too much trouble, can i please request yandere riddle, ruggie, azul, and epel with a darling who confessed to them before they could even think of kidnapping/murder/etc? thank you very much!

warnings: general yandere themes,mentions of blood, mentions of death, non consensual drug use

riddle rosehearts

he’s taken off guard, at first. riddle is one to plan out everything, to make sure he has a guideline and follow it- his sudden obsession is no different

perhaps it’s early enough he can still tell himself his emotions were simply a crush, simply the kind of romance others speak of; after all, his darling just waltzed into his arms before his heart could provide thoughts of keeping them to himself, before he could grow jealous of anyone who spoke to them

and yet, instead of the newfound relationship putting a halt onto his tendencies, it does little but speed them up

his plan might have changed, but it will have the same outcome. the way riddle loves is controlling and possessive, by nature; having his darling so available and already close to him just fuels the fire

already being in a relationship just makes his heart grow all that much twisted. as his darling’s boyfriend, he feels entitled to their obedience, to their attention

after all, riddle craves control. he’s been controlled all his life, carefully regulated to be someone his mother wanted him to be; it’s only natural he fights to have absolute control now that he’s free, and this absolute control is just intoxicating when it comes to his darling

perhaps the fact they began to date him before he could develop his true colors makes it even harder for them to accept the relationship is rotten. after all, it began so sweetly- it’s hard to accept the way riddle’s behaviour morphs slowly, the way he forces them to follow his rules, how he tries to monopolize their time; after all, that’s just... that’s just him being him, right...?

it’s so difficult for his darling. they’re in too deep- riddle feels entitled to their everything: after all, it was them who asked for his love, right? as much as he’s tyrannical, he’s also desperate for the affection his own mother never gave him. 

he thirsts for power, affection, and reaffirmations; the way he drank up praise and smiled when his darling followed the silly heartslabyul rules at the start of the relationship slowly degrades into his demands to receive affection met by harsh punishment if denied, degrades into him placing so many rules it’s almost impossible for his darling to go a day without being yelled at for their “disobedience” no matter how hard they try

azul ashengrotto

one would think that being confessed to first would soothe azul. his insecurities are his achilles’ heel, after all; growing desperate at the thought of not being enough for his darling, putting on his usual act to impress them. but if they come to him first, even before he can start forging plans to rope them in, then- it should be fine, right?

but it’s not. it’s not fine, and his darling might realize so once it’s too late to escape the octopus’ grasp.

azul is greedy by nature. he wants more money, more contracts, more power over students, more notoriety. it’s not just enough to be dating his darling, not after a  while

it’s so easy to fall back onto bad habits for him, questioning if he’s truly enough, if they’re just with him out of pity; soon enough it only takes him spotting his partner smiling to someone else for him to convince himself they’re cheating on him because he’s not enough, for him to assume any moment they aren’t with him they’re actively trying to get away from him

and it’s just painful for his darling, really. it’s not as if they didn’t know azul had a softer, insecure side- but it’s exhausting to deal with him. emotionally draining. to reassure him every time, to have to prove they’re loyal, to prove their love... it’s almost just easier to spend every moment with azul to avoid him making assumptions

and it’s not like they have much of a choice either. if a relationship is 50/50, then azul thinks his darling’s half should be to not worry him and stay by his side at all times, something he’s eager to bring up. after all, refusing him is just begging for him to either get angry or fall off one of his many insecurity spirals; and both scenarios usually end up with his darling getting dragged away by the twins to “fix” azul

a relationship that started off fine is now just toxic. azul is desperately codependent and controlling, and this isn’t even as bad as he can get; really, his darling gets a front-row seat to see how he’s slowly enveloped in his obsession with them

it’s not hard for azul’s darling to fall out of love, not like this. the azul they knew at the start, the one they fell in love with is mostly gone by the time the three month anniversary rolls around- them trying to break up with the merman is almost a given, and yet that’s probably the straw that breaks the camel’s back and just makes azul fully succumb to his obsession

kidnapping, blackmailing, contracts, killing, violence; azul brings in the big guns once his darling tries to leave. he sees it as his insecurities and fears having been ‘correct all along’- he has to take control, has to make things work by force if it has to be so; after all, it’s clear his darling won’t stay anymore, so... he’ll just have to keep them by force, won’t he?

ruggie bucchi

ruggie might often appear quite relaxed and friendly, but he doesn’t hold himself too high. he sees himself as a slum cat, a no-good opportunist with not too many redeeming features, so when his crush confesses to him just a few days after he himself realized he had a crush is almost mind boggling

perhaps it’s that what keeps the “honeymoon” stage of the relationship alive for so long. the sheer disbelief and joy that he’s getting his way, that life is aligning itself for him to have something nice without having had to work for it

but the honeymoon stage isn’t eternal, don’t you know? everything that goes up must go down- in some relationships that might mean one loses interest, or grows bored, but in ruggie’s case it’s differnet.

he grows paranoid, grows selfish. his darling is finally his. he finally has something that’s entirely his own- no hand me downs, no stealing, no pity gifts; his darling was the one to come to him, they’re his, and they’re not for anyone else 

“something of his own” is perhaps a good way to just see all the ways ruggie’s brain is fucked up on this; his darling is something he owns, more of a belonging than a person. oh, don’t get him wrong- he loves them, he thrives off the attention (he needs it, almost, desperately begging for it) they give him- but in the end of the day, they’re his so they should do as he says, right?

he’s grown up knowing to hide and protect valuables, that everyone else is out to steal other’s precious gems; he comes from a dog-eat-dog world, and that sort of thinking poisons his heart. he can’t stand people even glancing at his darling, spending time with them; his heart says they’re trying to steal them, why wouldn’t they? isn’t his darling just the most precious thing? but they’re HIS precious thing- and it’s his duty to make sure nobody takes them away, right?

it’s so easy to get rid of people with his unique magic. it’s so easy to clean up any mess, with how used he is to cleaning. it’s so easy to hide remains in the vast sands that extend in the distance of the savanaclaw dorm

and it’s so easy to show his darling his work, to make them aware of how hard he works for them- of course, this is nothing short of using fear to control them, but hey, if it works, it works, doesn’t it?

after all, his darling is just that much more willing to stay nice and put in his room while he’s out if the memory of ruggie’s bloodstained clothes is engraved in their mind, and it’s so much easy for ruggie to get the attention he craves so badly if his darling is still processing the news of their close friends’ bodies not being found

epel felmier 

epel is not a complete stranger to being approached with a confession- although tragically, more than once it’s been some idiot student who somehow mistook him for a girl, only leading to bitterness and anger. so of course, when he’s finally confessed to by someone he likes- confessed to by someone who knows him, who is close to him- he’s over the moon

of course he’d worried about his crush not liking him due to his appearance; after all, he doesn’t like how fragile and lithe he is, so it’s hard to imagine others liking it (despite how annoying vil can be about how his form or whatever is perfect)

even though he knows his lover fully supports his endeavors to grow stronger, he knows that they’re weak to him. not in the way someone relies on a strong person, but because they love him- they’ll say yes to anything he says if he bats his eyelashes and speaks sweetly

and at first he doesn’t care. he won’t swoop that low- if his darling doesn’t want to do something he wants, fine. but then he starts craving for things he shouldn’t; he feels clingy and possessive, not wanting to see his darling smiling and laughing with others, not wanting them to wander alone- and suddenly he’s not above using his charm to make them give in

the fact epel wasn’t even aware how dark his desires could go just goes to show how unprepared his own darling could be. after all, at first it seems like innocent things; spending more time with him, not hanging out with students that are too flirty. it’s normal, it’s just small sacrifices needed for a working relationship

but isn’t it curious how all the sacrifices come from his darling’s part...? after all, it’s them who have to cut off contact with certain friends epel deems “too touchy”, it’s them who have to wait for epel to escort them between classes, it’s them who have to spend their free time and days off in epel’s room- but it’s so hard to call epel out. he’s so innocent and adorable; surely they’re just approaching things from the wrong angle, surely the relationship doesn’t have that big of a power imbalance, right...?

he’s a bit scared of himself, in all honesty. surely, not all relationships can be like this- surely, not all love can feel like this, can it...? he’s never been in love before, but he’s quite sure not everyone feels murderous urges to get rid of anyone who even looks at their partner, that not everyone gets as much satisfaction from seeing their partner cry as they do from a kiss from them. it’s not normal, but it’s his way of love- so surely he can’t be wrong for just giving into whatever his heart says, can he?

but epel isn’t fully in control until he brings in fear. love and affection are what he wants, yes- but those can only get him so far. he isn’t fully in control until his darling understands he’s the one in charge, he isn’t fully in charge until his darling is woozy off potions slipped in their food by him- potions that make them sleepy, giggly and obedient, that let him easily shove them into his room and perhaps attach a chain to their ankle, with them just hazily giggling about the situation instead of screaming, not able to comprehend the situation they’re in- the fear can settle in once the potion fades, after all

[bleufrost]

Guiding Light

Summary: Even though your team finally trusts Loki enough to give him a chance, you still have to help him realize he's not the monster he sometimes thinks he is.

a/n: this is within the same universe as There's Just Time but it can also be read as a standalone (: more notes at the end for anyone who wants to read them!

Words: 1,921

Warnings: angst, self doubt, theres also fluff so dont worry!

If we come back and we're broken Unworthy and ashamed Give us something to believe in And you know we'll go your way

You never really realize how loud everything is until Loki cuts you off from his energy. Now, that isn't to say that Loki leads a tranquil existence, it's actually quite the opposite. Loki's emotions are incredibly sporadic and loud; so loud in fact, that they have become nearly identical in nature to the crashing of waves against the shore. Deafening, yet with the promise of calm once you come to recognize it as home. Without the roar, everything you’d rather drown out comes back to the forefront of your mind. That is exactly what is happening right now.

Tony’s bubbling anxiety to get his hands on something new clashes with the forced control of Bruce’s psyche as you enter the lab. The opposing energies nearly incapacitate you. “Hey, have you guys seen Loki?” You sit next to Bruce, your focus on his hands as he moves some things around on a screen. It’s a lame attempt to center yourself, but it helps a bit when a drill sparks to life in Tony’s hands. Bruce smiles at you apologetically and you shake your head.

“What’s that, kiddo?” Tony’s voice barely registers over the monotonous sound of the drill and you try to signal for him to turn it off, but the attempt is in vain. Instead of continuing to scream, you wait it out until Tony finally seems to be finishing up. The drill powers down and he smiles at you in that way that only he can; as though he truly believes that the world can wait for him. You can’t exactly blame him, you did wait, didn’t you?

“Okay, what’s up?” He places the drill down and brushes his hands off on his pants.

“I was just wondering if you’ve seen Loki around?” He looks to Bruce and they both seem to mutually agree that they haven’t. Tony shrugs at you.

“Sorry, kid. No Reindeer Games around here.” You roll your eyes at the nickname and he lets out a loud laugh. “Okay, thanks.” Getting up, you exit the lab and head for the common room.

It takes a few more tries, and by the time someone finally tells you they spotted him, your head is racing. There are so many different emotions and waves of energy in so limited a space, it exhausts you. Often you found navigating it all to be a fun game, but that was only when you had an anchor. Unfortunately, your anchor seems to be a little lost at sea.

When you do find Loki, he’s staring out a large window on one of the top floors of the compound. There’s a book abandoned in his lap, his finger resting on the page as though he had drifted mid sentence. The bright sky reflects on his eyes in a beautiful show of light. Anchors and waves, you knew Loki was all of it to you.

“Hey.” It comes out as only a whisper as you approach him slowly. It’s so soft, you almost doubt he hears it at all. Of course, he does though. He’s a god and, with great pain, you also know that he’s very used to being on his guard.

Loki’s eyes move from the clouds above and over to you. You’re not sure if the lights are playing tricks on you, but you swear that there are small hints of unshed tears in his crystal eyes.

“Hello.” If you thought your voice was soft, Loki’s is hardly there at all. It shakes ever so slightly at the end of the word, and if his shielding emotions wasn’t a dead giveaway, his demeanor most definitely is. Something’s wrong.

Your feet take slow, tentative steps forward. Neither one of you breaks eye contact, and when you attempt to push your energy over to him as some form of comfort, it hits a wall. He’s using his own magic to deliberately block yours from reaching him. Your feet stop moving and you can see in the way that his eyes glint that he’s aware of how distanced he is keeping you.

“Loki, what’s hurting you?” It’s a simple question, but that’s all it takes. After over a thousand years spent dancing around problems and masking insecurities, your willingness to openly address such intimate pains was still so novel to him.

The first few times he had spoken to you, really spoken to you, all illusions set aside and with no intent to trick you, he had been struck hard by your lack of judgement. All Loki ever knew was how to hide the most vulnerable parts of himself because others would use them against him. WIth you though, the vulnerability was exclusively used as a bridge to growth. You had told him once that energy flowed toward energy. It was made to grow. Naturally, because he was composed of all different kinds of untamable energy, it was only inevitable that he would continue to evolve into a stronger version of himself if he chose to recognize the points that were draining him.

Energy moves toward energy, and so he allowed his to move to you.

“I don’t feel I belong here. I’m not worthy of forgiveness.” The confession twists your heart into a knot. It hurts to hear the insecurity lacing his voice, but the emotions that seep into you hurt even more. With his wall down, you can feel the nervousness, fear, anxiety, and overall sense of loathing that Loki has been carrying by himself. You understand why he blocked himself from you, but you’re so incredibly relieved to be sharing his burden.

It takes a second for you to acclimate to the new feeling, but your feet take you the rest of the way to him as soon as you do. You’d never run from him, no matter how intense it may be to stay.

“No, no. Even just your ability to share that with me proves that you’re more than worthy, Loki.” The unshed tears come to the surface, slipping past his eyes and running slowly down his cheek. Your hand instinctively comes up to rest against his face.

“There’s not one of us here who hasn’t done things that we regret. Things that have hurt people and that we wish we could take back, but we can’t.”

More tears fall from his eyes and he looks at you so lost and frightened that you fear your heart may break.

“How do you live with it?” His eyes search yours for answers, and you wish you could tell him something that could help right now. Unfortunately, all experience you have with this calls for an agonizing amount of time to pass before even a hint of relief begins to seep in. There’s so much to do before forgiveness can come; not from others, but from yourself. It does come, though.

An idea sparks to life then, as you recall everything you’d done to make amends for the lives you had damaged, Forgiveness, understanding, healing. You knew these feelings and, luckily, that was all you needed.

Your other hand raises slowly, a soft blue light wrapping around the edges of each finger as it hugs around your skin. You hold your hand out to Loki, knowing that he needs to be the one to initiate this. You can offer yourself, but he has to choose to accept.

His large hand comes up, nearly meeting yours before he stops mere centimeters away. He can feel a slight wave of the emotions that you hold in your hand, but that same fear of being unworthy holds him back. Does he even deserve this kindness that you show him? You know he deserves that and so much more, but the doubt still makes him struggle.

The back and forth pull is not lost on you. Your thumb strokes the sharp curve of his cheekbone, finding your own comfort in providing it to him. His eyes close at the motion, and when he opens them again, the fear is gone.

Loki slips his hand into yours, finding the empty spaces between your fingers to be a perfect fit for him. He clings to you like a lifeline, and you very well may be one to him. You know he is for you.

Your light engulfs him, flowing up his arm and straight into his chest, his mind, his heart. Anywhere he needs it, your light will find him and help him feel okay. Every memory you had, every emotion, and every tear was placed into that light. Relief. Forgiveness. For Loki, it was hope.

“You do whatever you can to make up for it. You can’t fix everything, but sometimes just trying is enough.” Loki takes in your words and continues to let your energy hug him like a warm blanket. Trying. He could do that.

When he’s ready, he lets your magic go. Immediately, some of the doubt returns, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Not when you’re here.

“Thank you.” The air around you seems to spark to life and you find your energy starts to pull toward Loki. It was odd; unlike anything you’d felt before.

Of course, there were certain people that naturally caused your powers to want to be near them. Their energies were calming enough or provided with just the right amount of curiosity that stoked the childlike wonder in yourself. You always knew exactly why you were being drawn to them. This time, with Loki, it was different. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact emotion of yearning that drew you to him. All you knew was that you felt connected.

Deciding that this moment held enough excitement for the two of you, you left it alone. Maybe you could ask about it some other time when things were a bit calmer. Right now, you just wanted Loki to relax. There were many things about your abilities that you were still yet to explore. This was probably nothing.

Loki’s hand guided you out of your thoughts and back to him. He brought you closer and smiled. “Sit with me?”

You immediately reciprocated his smile. Loki may think that his well crafted charm is the most endearing thing about him. You know that’s not true. By far the most compelling and radiant thing about Loki was the unfiltered appreciation he had for the smallest things in life. Sitting beneath a blue sky sounded like heaven when he offered it up with such a gorgeous smile.

“Of course.” You let go of his hand to lift yourself onto the cushioned bench he was sitting on. It’s long enough to provide you with enough room to place distance between yourself and Loki, but you don’t. When you’re settled, Loki finds your hand once more. He squeezes it gently and lifts the book with his other.

“Would you like me to read to you?” He raises the book a little higher so you can see the cover, but quite honestly you don’t care what he’s reading. You just like to hear his voice. You nod happily. “Yes, please.”

Loki offers you one more genuine grin and sets to work, reading the words on the page like a poet sharing their most prized work. You can feel him, deafening the world around you until you’re lulled back into a calm that only his noise can guide you to.

As he reads, your connected hands glow with an energy that neither of you intentionally brings forth; it just happens. Even without trying, some things just do.

a/n: I realized that I was making little references to moments/memories in the main story that I really wanted to write, so thats what these mini pieces will be! on that note, the second chapter should be up by saturday at the latest. i had some computer problems which sucks lol, but its getting done! after that, i'll be trying to get the new chapters up before the premiere of the next loki episode. have a lovely day yall!

[alwaysananxiousmess]

lighting tommyinnit au

okay so i made this a while ago, like, pretty recently after the final disc war.

So, after Doomsday, Tommy get’s struck by lightning in a world where spontaneously generating powers is normal. Techno has a stupid strong healing factor he got from fighting in the Hypixel arenas when he was a kid. Dream is a speedster and has enhanced reflexes, something he got from the manhunts.

There are other examples, but those two are the most relevant, so there you go. I bet you can see where this whole thing is going.

Tommy get’s struck by lightning, and understandably passes out, because that is thousands of volts going into your body in the span of a second or less. I bet it hurts a fuckton.

Ghostbur is the one that finds him, having been talking to him when it happens. He goes to get Tubbo, who brings him to Sam’s place because he was the only one walking around who actually had a place for Tommy to stay.

Tommy slowly heals and recovers, and has some major side effects from the strike. He’s blind and deaf on his left side, lost his sense of taste, and has frequent muscle spasms that make fine motor control extremely difficult. He has scarring on the left side of his face, neck, shoulder, chest, and back as well as down his left arm, ending about mid-forearm. (If you want to know what it looks like, google “lightning flowers”)

He also has... other side effects, ones that aren’t as explainable. There’s a constant energy building underneath his skin that he can’t explain, like a humming only he can hear. It itches sometimes, and eventually becomes painful with how much of it there was, but more on that in a bit. Time also seems to slow down at random moments, but only to him.

Anyway, the energy builds so much that it gets to the point that he’s curled in a ball in the middle of the night, sobbing in his bed at Sam’s base. It hurting him and he doesn’t know why it’s happening.

Sam is the one who finds him, immediately going to comfort him, but Tommy accidentally electrocutes him.

Now Sam is a creeper hybrid. He can’t be hurt by lightning, but he can’t become charged like a normal creeper does. He’s more shocked than anything else, but Tommy is freaking out because he thinks he’s hurt Sam and he doesn’t know what’s happening. This inevitably causes him to release more electricity, which still isn’t hurting Sam, but it only makes Tommy panic more. Sam’s trying to calm him down and reassure him that he’s fine but Tommy just doesn’t believe him.

Eventually, the electricity stops because Tommy just... ran out of it. He’s still crying and freaking out but there isn’t any more lightning flying everywhere. Sam manages to calm him down, promising him that he’s okay and that Tommy didn’t hurt him.

Tommy shakily asks what the hell just happened, and Sam theorizes that the lightning must have made him generate a power, and that’s what the energy and the time slowing down things were about.

So, they test it out once Tommy’s come to terms with it a bit more in an attempt to help him control it. Tommy is super paranoid about hurting someone accidentally, and he pushes himself into learning how to control it.

They figure out that time isn’t slowing down, Tommy is speeding up. The lightning strike allowed him to become a speedster, like Dream. Their final theory is that Tommy generates electricity, which is what the energy that he feels is. Using his superspeed generates it faster. Occasionally, he needs to release the energy, which is why he can produce lightning and electrocute things. If he doesn’t release it, it will release for him in one huge blast, which causes extreme pain for him and is very lethal to anything around him. It also makes him pass out for a few days.

The incident regarding him accidentally electrocuting Sam was because he releases electricity when he’s distressed or in pain. Tubbo makes a rubber chest plate and gloves he can wear to ensure he doesn’t get shocked when Tommy needs his help.

One of the more funny side effects of his power is that he’s a walking static cloud. Touching people gives them light shocks, not painful, just annoying. If he waves a hand over someone’s head their hair will stand up.

He’s also a walking redstone signal. He can act as a redstone torch, and will often help Tubbo and Sam out on their projects when they need him. If he steps in the wrong place though, he can mess the whole thing up. Tommy is not allowed near TNT, because touching it ignites it like a redstone torch would.

He can carry around a little mini redstone lamp in his pocket and it acts like a flashlight when he takes it out. It’s very useful.

Onto more plot.

So.... Final Disc War.

Tommy and Tubbo are in the weird Hall of Attachments thing, and Dream says he’s going to kill Tubbo, and “there’s nothing you can do to stop me, tommy”

Tommy just steps in front of Tubbo, cracks his knuckles, and replies “that’s what you think, bitch”

speedster fight speedster fight speedster fight speedster fight

Every time Dream tries to grab Tubbo, Tommy slams into him and forces him to change course. They’re chasing each other around the room and they’re fucking running on the walls and ceiling what the fuck.

Eventually Punz and everyone else shows up, and they’re kind of just staring into a mostly empty room with Tubbo standing in the corner and one green blur and one white blur moving sporadically around. Literally only Sam and Tubbo understand what’s happening.

Dream eventually gets the upper hand, injuring Tommy in some way that forces him to stop running. Dream’s crouching over Tommy, gloating about his win, while Tommy’s bleeding everywhere and spitting in his face angrily.

Everyone else is at a standstill. They can’t fire at Dream, because he could just finish Tommy off and run before their arrows even get there, and they can’t rush him, because he can just run off. Tubbo is begging for Dream to spare Tommy and to kill him like they agreed, but Dream refuses, saying that Tommy’s been to much of a pain in the ass to let him live.

Dream raises his sword and prepares to kill Tommy with it, when Tommy grabs onto the blade of the sword and just grins.

You remember how him using his superspeed generated more electricity?

:)

Tommy inhales, and sends literally every single volt of electricity into Dream with one giant light show. You can fucking smell Dream burning, and really only one bolt was needed to kill him, but Tommy keeps going. He sends bolt after bolt into Dream until he’s completely drained dry of electricity and Dream is crumbling away into respawn, the sword falling harmlessly onto the ground.

Tommy just lays there for a few moments as the smoke clears, and then turns his head to Tubbo with a grin and says: “that was pog” before passing the fuck out from the amount of pain that amount of electricity erupting from him caused.

Sam and Tubbo run over to go save Tommy right as Dream respawns. But Sam is too concerned about saving Tommy’s life than putting Dream in prison, because Tommy’s bleeding out and his body is working overdrive just to generate more lightning.

So Dream gets away while Sam and Tubbo bring Tommy back to Sam’s base to heal. Dream only has two lives left, and he goes to Techno, using the favor for shelter and protection until he can get his revenge.

Some cool tidbits me and Belle came up with when we talked about it a few weeks back:

Smoke starts coming off of Tommy’s skin and hair when he’s pissed, and his hair will stand up straight. He can char things too, so imagine a pissed Tommy stalking off and leaving black footprints on the sidewalk behind him.

His eyes glow white sometimes, typically when he’s using his power/when he’s mad or scared. I’m talking full white, glowing Eret eyes. It’s cool to look at.

His hair after the lightning strike turns very very pale blonde instead of the golden blonde it was before.

His lightning flower scars light up when he’s using his superspeed. It looks pretty cool tbh.

When he needs to release electricity, he’ll go out into the woods alone and let it off in slow bursts so it doesn’t hurt as much. The walks are incredibly lonely and he hates having to do it every time. He’s terrified that he’ll accidentally hurt or kill someone if he doesn’t, though, so he does it anyway.

(The way Dream attacks him after the Final Disc War for the first time is when Tommy is on one of these walks and he depletes all his lightning before Dream showed up)

If he completely depletes his electricity, such as like in the Final Disc War, he can’t use his superspeed. There needs to be existing energy for it to kick on. If there isn’t any starter energy, bad news, you aren’t gonna go fast like you want to.

Anyway, yeah, that’s the lightning Tommy au. This is more brainrot than anything else tbh I just like it.

Shoutout to @bellfort3 and @ecinue-unicorn for listening to me ramble about this au in dms <3 multiple times

[harryskalechips]

Illicit affairs Part two

A/N Hi here is part two!!! I’m sorry for it being so delayed I’ve been busy taking care of my new sick puppy. I hope you enjoy this one! Please show some love and send me your thoughts hahaha enjoy ❤︎

Y/N and Harry decide to end their affair and she thought it would be okay since her internship was ending. Too bad she was offered a permanent job and she took it. 

Tw: Cheating, smut

Thank you @harrysleftchelseaboot for letting me participate in your writing challenge! Here is my part two! Any new writers or readers please check out the masterlist! So many cool stories written from prompts!

here are my prompts:

“Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“Do you think soulmates are real?”

“I still love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.” 

“Your hands look so cold.”

Note: I do not condone cheating whatsoever! Please mind that this story is fictional! As much as it makes me sad to paint Harry as a cheater, it’s part of this storyline I thought of as I listened to Taylor’s album, Folklore.

Word count: 8.6k / Masterlist // Part 1

It’s been three months since Y/N accepted her job in marketing for Columbia Records. It wasn’t too bad. Matter of fact, it’s been the only thing that has been distracting her since her breakup last year. She got her own office and had a bit of privacy too. Luckily, she was no longer sorting papers on a tiny desk in the middle of the hallway nor was she on coffee runs every morning. The only thing that seemed to stick, however, was seeing Harry Styles. 

When Rose, Rob’s assistant called her three years ago about the internship Y/N was ecstatic. Not only was this an opportunity to go celebrity sightseeing every day but this company gave people like her great opportunities and a great recommendation too. There was no possible way that she could turn down Rob’s offer. She’s been dreaming of a career like this for years! 

What truly sucked about her job at the moment, however, was the pop star, her marketing team was taking care of. Over these past months, not only was he able to ignore her presence, he became a bit of an ass too! Maybe that’s not even the right word to use…. He was being petty! That’s what Y/N thinks. To be honest, during the countless meetings they had over these past months Y/N would drain him out.  As he spoke all she could do was repeat that word in her head as she mimicked his British accent. But can you blame her? They were together for a year and he constantly led her on. She fell in love with a married man who promised that he cared for her. She found herself compromising a lot of things in their relationship that she shouldn’t have needed too. Not only was she twisting her values for him, but she was also forced to take the second bits of him. 

On her birthday, he arrived late at night because he and his wife had an interview with Vogue. He bought her a necklace and made love to her a countless amount of times but the next morning... he was gone. 

there would be times, he wasn’t able to spend time with her since he was in London with his family. Yes, he video-called her and made sure to speak to her for a reasonable amount of time but he also went M.I.A for another two days. 

The last example she could think of at the top of her head was when everyone had a date at their company’s charity ball. She had to witness Harry and his wife put on a show for the cameras. He looked at his wife as if she was his star and touched her like he’s been doing it for years. The whole night, he had his arm wrapped around her, constantly keeping her close. The only problem is in reality he’s been acting like that with Y/N -not her. 

So yeah although she broke up with him -she was angry. Yes, she said they shouldn’t keep in touch but she thought she was leaving the company! Now, he’s acting as if he never spent a night at her place, fucking her. He’s been acting as if he never had a meal with her nor snuggled her on the couch. He’s cold and she hates him for that. Not only was this hurting her, but she also loved him! And for that...he’s cruel. She can’t even remember how many times she had to run to the washroom during work so she could cry in one of the stalls. Sometimes, she felt like he was purposely picking on her. Calling her out for her mistakes or for her lack of attention. She was new to everything and she was still learning. She just never thought the man she shared her bed and her secrets with would be so indifferent. That’s why she calls him petty.

“Y/N? I’m heading out. Want me to get you some food?” Marissa asks her as they sit in the boardroom with Harry. Their meeting ended a while ago but they decided to work through lunch since Mr. Celebrity wanted to fix a few things with them.

 “No, I’m alright.” She looks up from her paper as she replies. She notices Harry in front of her leaning on the table as he hunches over flipping through a few papers.

“Are you sure?” Her co-worker frowns as she leans across the doorway. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Marissa, buy her some food.” Harry interrupts Y/N before she can speak up. He stands a bit straighter as he reaches down to grab his wallet. He pulls out a black card and gives it to the girl. 

“Oh.” Marissa’s eyes widen as she stares at the card in her hand. “Would you like anything?”

“No, buy for yourself too. This one’s on me.” He nonchalantly replies as he goes back in his old position to read through the contracts.

 Marissa was confused if she was being honest. She worked for Harry’s marketing team ever since he started going solo. She loved working for him because he was outgoing and respectful but for the past few months, he seemed to be too serious and a bit pissier. Maybe it had to be because of his wife? Little did she know it was because of the girl who was sitting a few feet from him. 

When she left, Y/N choked. It wasn’t noticeable but she could feel her throat tightening. She has never been left in a room with him since their unbearable breakup. Funny enough, although the company celebrated her new job, Harry mindlessly ignored the event. He came to the party but he never congratulated her. So from that, Y/N knew he was far more than upset about their breakup. He was being salty.

“Y/N,” Harry speaks up as he walks towards her with the contracts in his hand. Y/N didn’t even want to look up. Was he speaking to her for the first time...again?

“Yeah?” She replies, trying not to make her wobbly voice sound apparent. 

“What do you mean about this part of the contract?” Harry coldly asks as he puts the paper in front of her face.

“I’m not sure. Marissa wrote the contract. I worked with Yvonne on your merch shop.” Y/N replies in a monotone manner. 

“How are you not sure? You didn’t even look at the paper.” She can almost hear a sigh under his breath. Y/N finally looks up and glares at him. She takes the sheet out of his hand and reads the new highlight from his pink pen. 

“I don’t know, Harry.” She gives it back to him and continues to work on her list without saying another word. She didn’t want to look up again because she could already feel his eyes staring at her. He somehow always loved to do it. “Stop looking at me.” She blurts out. She and Harry weren’t expecting her to say that. He awkwardly coughs as he runs his hand through his hair. He walks back to his usual spot in the room and pretends as if nothing happened. In reality, however, his heart was racing. Although he was so pissed at her, she looked pretty today.

~

“Have you ever been on a date before?” Marissa asks Y/N as they walk out of her office together. Y/N wasn’t going to lie. She’s pretty lucky that she became close friends with Marissa. Now, they have a routine of picking each other up from their offices. It made her feel a bit less lonely since she sees her ex every day and he gives her nothing but a cold treatment. It’s a bit ironic how a few months back, her heart would flutter when he visited the building. Now, she sees him a bit too often for their liking.

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders and gives a funny look to her co-worker. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know you never talk about your love life. I always talk about my husband but I never heard anything coming from you. I know you like to have privacy but I was wondering.”

“It’s complicated.” She lets out a laugh. “I broke up with him two months ago.” 

“Who was he?” Marissa smiles as her mouth opens in shock.

“A liar.”

“What did he do?”

“All men are the sam-”

“Have a good night, ladies.” A voice interrupts them. The women stop walking as they catch sight of Rob and Harry looking at the contracts they were previously working on earlier in the day. They sat on one of the many couches with many papers sprawled out onto the coffee table.

“Gosh Rob, you gave us a fright!” Marissa laughs. “Sill looking at those papers? Call me tomorrow if anything needs changing.” Marissa rolls her eyes as she smiles at them.

“Don’t worry.” Rob laughs. “Mr. Styles here is just going through the contracts with me one more time. You girls go home.” 

“Alright, hope you and Harry have a good night too.” Y/N says nothing but waves as she follows Marissa to the elevator.

“Wait!” The familiar voice calls for them. Y/N and her co-worker turn around to see Harry still sitting on the couch looking at them. “Y/N, just because he lied to you. It doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.”

 ~

You would think that Y/N repaired herself and became more comfortable working with her ex after that last encounter with him…. But no, wrong. In fact, she was dreading going into work today. How does this man ignore her for two months and then suddenly, he’s acknowledging her presence?

“You know what I find funny?” Marissa blurts out. Their marketing team had a conference room for themselves apart from the other room they were in yesterday. Yvonne and Jasmine look at her, waiting for her to reply while Y/N slouched in her chair out of distress. “Harry’s been a total ass to you ever since you got a job here.” She wasn’t lying, the whole office knew Harry was extra hard on her. “It got me thinking… why did he say that to you yesterday?”

“What did he say?” Yvonne gives a confused look to Y/N. Y/N just closes her eyes and turns her chair away from her colleagues and instead, to the wall.

“He said something like oh just because your ex-boyfriend lied to you, it doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.” Marissa mimics his deep British voice. “Who on earth says that! And you guys barely speak to each other? How could he possibly know about him?”

“Wait a minute. Is he like siding with Y/N’s ex?” Jasmine’s eyes widen at the thought. “If her boyfriend lied then it is his fault!”“

Right I-” Before Marissa can continue. Y/N turns her chair towards them again and interrupts their juicy gossip. 

“Guys!” Y/N calls them out. “It’s not a big problem. H-he has probably been in a relationship where he was in that position and he said that.” She tries to reason with her hands. “J-just let it go.”

 “Oh shit, I forgot. Your breakup is still fresh.” Marissa covers her mouth in pity. And this is a reason why Y/N will never talk about her love life again.

“Excuse me, girls.” Rob knocks on the door and lets himself in. “I need one of you to go with Harry tomorrow back to London for his interview.”

“Rob, why’d you let us know so late?” Yvonne complains. “I would go but my sister’s wedding is tomorrow!”

“I’m sorry hun, I thought he would just need someone from publicity but it seems like he also has a pop-up shop there opening soon.”

“I can’t.” Jasmine shrugs her shoulders. She doesn’t even bother saying why. Y/N knew she had to say it before Marissa. She can’t imagine being on a whole ass trip with her ex. Yet somehow the girl beat her to it.

“I can’t go either. Sorry.” Marissa speaks up. She was planning something. It was obvious from the way her eyes connected with Y/N’s.

“Alright, Y/N please be ready by 4 A.M. Harry will have a driver sent to your place.” Rob looks at her and smiles. “This is going to be a great experience for you.” 

~

Coffee wasn’t going to cut it. Y/N barely got any sleep since she had to pack as soon as she got home. Apparently, they were staying for 5 days so this meant more torture for her. At 4 A.M on the dot, a black car picked her up in front of her building and drove her straight to the airport. There she saw Harry and Emily already sitting in the VIP lounge, laughing about something. 

“Good morning!” Emily says to Y/N as her eyes catch sight of hr entering. Emily was a nice woman from publicity. She’s been working in PR for over 25 years, making her a pro in handling any scenario. 

“Good morning.” Y/N smiles back as she pulls her hand carry with her to one of the seats.“Why are you sitting so far?” Emily laughs. Harry seemed to be too interested as he read something on his phone. “We don’t bite.”

“Oh no, I’m okay here. Thank you. I just have to stretch my legs.”

“Alright. Well now that you’re here to keep Harry some company, I’m going downstairs to get a bagel.” The old lady stands up and grabs her purse. She waves at them one more time before leaving the room.

Silence. 

Nothing but pure awkwardness and it was driving Y/N mad. She hated that this man was making her cry even though they were over. Maybe, she shouldn’t have stayed with the company.

“They have really good smoothies downstairs.” Harry blurts out, still looking at his screen. “I know you really like having one in the morning. Thought you should know.”

“Thank you.” Y/N was playing with her cuticles but gave him a quick glance. “I’m fine though.” Nothing but distant conversations can be heard as the ex-couple continued to act disinterested in one another.

This is the final call for flight BA111 to Thailand. 

What caught Y/N’s eye, however, was Harry reaching something into his back pocket. It made her have to speak up. “Putting on your ring again? Funny how no one seems to notice how hot and cold you are with it.” Harry scoffs as he stays frozen staring at her.

“None of your business.” He slides the ring on successfully and goes back into his old position.

A brief pause happens before Y/N decides to speak up -she was tired of his attitude. “You know what?” She glances around the empty room before whispering back at him. “I don’t understand what got your panties in such a twist. You need to stop being such a jerk to me!” Harry’s face shows no emotions as he listens to her. 

“You don’t know why? How about out of the blue your girlfriend breaks up with you.”

“It was destined to happen, Harry!” Y/N’s eyes widen at his response. “You’re marr-”

“They had so many bagels to choose from! I had to buy two since I couldn’t pick!” Emily walks in, all innocent. “You guys okay?”

“Perfect,” Harry mutters but it wasn’t. As they boarded his private plane, he watched Y/N walk in front of him, trying to wipe her tears.

~

The whole plane ride was quiet since he realized most of them had to catch some sleep but for some odd reason, he couldn’t. Harry’s bodyguard was at the very front row, snoozing off. Emily had her own chair and she crashed the moment the plane took off. He didn’t know if Y/N was awake but he hoped she was sleeping. When he saw her the first time this morning, she looked so drained out. 

Harry just didn’t know what to say nor what to think. His breakup caught him off guard and now he’s been in a bad mood ever since. Sometimes, he wondered if his divorce would make him feel this way and in all honesty, he knew it wouldn’t. 

There was something still tying him to that depressing marriage and he’s starting to think that maybe Y/N was correct. He was scared to be like his parents but that didn’t make him regret anything he said to her that night. He knew he would keep her a secret even if he was single again. The idea of reporters picking on her didn’t settle well with him. Just the thought made his stomach sick.

 So although he’s heartbroken, the only way he found himself coping was by picking on Y/N. Y’know the girl that broke his heart. He didn’t mean to but his first instinct was to ignore her until her internship ended -And that went well until Rob announced her permanent position in the company. He was mad at her for torturing him. He told himself that he would let her go because she wasn’t happy with him. So why the fuck does it feel like she’s teasing him. 

Every time he walks into those meetings, he can feel the tension between them. It makes his head go crazy as if he needs to beg on his knees so she can take him back. But like every love story, it’s just not that simple. It’s his pride and his reputation on the line. He needs a gap after his divorce before he can even go public with her. Oh, what is he thinking? No matter how much time he thinks can fix this, people will still attack them. He lost so many girlfriends because of his fame and he won’t let Y/N deal with it too. Especially, since she’s not a celebrity. She has no idea what this lifestyle can truly be like.

 ~

“London is quite… big.” Harry puts his shades on as he watches his bodyguard put the last luggage in the car. They were in a hidden corner outside of Heathrow Airport, Y/N and Emily stood next to him as they waited for his instructions. “You ladies can travel and explore the city. But, I was wondering if you would like to stay at my home this week. It will save you some money.”

“Oh no, Harry we don’t want to bo-” Emily speaks up.

“No, I insist. I had to bring you ladies along the last minute. Tom, you have my car ready right?” His bodyguard nods. “Perfect, you girls hop in with me and Tom will drive behind us.”

“Harry, your house is so beautiful.” Emily’s eyes shine as they step out of his car. 

“Thank you.” Harry smiles proudly as he glances at Y/N. “Let’s go inside so you can pick out your rooms.”

The house was gorgeous. Y/N wanted to tell him too but after their little fight at the airport today, she decided to keep her mouth shut. To be honest, there were so many things she wished she could tell him but he’s been acting so unapproachable. 

As they walked inside, the house smelled faintly like him, making Y/N forcefully hold in her breath a couple of times. How can this man barely be here yet the place smelled just like him.

“Oh, Harry…. You and your wife are very lucky to have this house. I love this rustic theme. It feels so homey.” Emily compliments him. “Y/N when you get married, make sure you take care of the decorating portion, so you can have something like this.”

 “Oh-” Y/N’s eyes widen as she hears Harry cough behind her. 

“My wife has actually never been here before. She’s not a fan of London.” Harry tries to say nonchalantly. In reality, however, both of their hearts were racing. Their brains synced up with one another as they thought about a distant memory.

 ~

It was a couple of months into their affair as they cuddled naked against each other in Y/N’s bedroom. The moonlight was shining right onto them as they both stared at random objects in her room, appreciating their intimacy. Harry’s hand comb her hair back while she let her fingers mindlessly trace his tattoos. Their breathing was in sync as they whispered sleepy thoughts to one another.

“What’s it like in London?” Y/N mumbles as her lips touch his chest while she speaks.

“It’s rainy,” Harry replies back. He scoots himself closer to the girl and kisses her forehead. “Have you ever been?”

“No.”

“I’ll bring you one day, I promise.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, I’ll bring you to all my favourite places and fuck you so hard in the hotel rooms.”

 “Why does that sound so appealing?” Y/N laughs as she looks up at him. “Can we go soon?”

“When I find out how to not get seen by the paparazzi, sure.”

“Does this mean we have to have all our meals in our hotel room?” Y/N pouts -because as much as Harry can request a secluded room, he’s still married and people will talk. 

“Baby, don’t make it sound depressing. I’m sure we’ll find ourselves a loophole.”

...

“You’ll try?” She pulls away immediately looking at him. “What do you mean? Have you not been trying to do that these past few months!” He rubs his face in frustration. 

“It’s hard Y/N. I told you countless times.”

“I know it’s hard but what’s stopping you from doing it! You told me that you don’t want to lose me but for some odd reason, it seems like you don’t want to lose her!”

“She was my first love Goddammit!” He finally yells back at her.

~

It’s been two days since their stay in London and Y/N was enjoying every minute of it. Although she had to give some of her hours to work, she couldn’t deny her excitement as she and Emily walked through the unknown streets.

Funny enough while they were eating at a small cafe for lunch, she ended up meeting a new guy. His name was Elliot and he came from New York to visit his family here in London. He was just having lunch with an old friend of his. He noticed her accent and decided to approach her table.

Although, Y/N thought he was cute - she wasn’t interested? It confused her because the moment he asked for her number, she thought of Harry. Which automatically made her say yes. She just doesn’t know if she’s ready for a new relationship but what’s the problem with trying?

“How was your day?” Harry watches the women come into his home as he sits on his couch watching TV. It was around 8 PM and he had nothing to do. His schedule this past year was made to be available for Y/N (excluding PR events)  and since they broke up, he never planned on changing them.

“Harry, oh we didn’t think you’d be home. You’re a celebrity! Shouldn’t you be out partying?” Emily laughs as she sits on the couch. She rests her bags on the floor as Y/N does the same. 

“Oh no. I’m not really into those. I don’t know it’s a nice Friday night to relax. Tomorrow, we have that interview in the morning so I wanted to sleep early.”

“What a smart boy! Well, Y/N and I did some shopping. London is so beautiful. I’m glad I’m here again. Actually, that reminds me! Y/N tell Harry what happened today!”

“Huh?” Y/N’s face pales as she looks at Emily. Her co-workers seemed to invade her love life without seeing a problem. The problem is, however, is that they don’t know what’s truly been happening. “Elliot.” Emily gives her a comforting smile.

“Oh, do you  know him?” Harry gives her a serious look as he turns down the TV. 

“No, he came up to us while we were having lunch.”

“He was so cute Harry! I hope they get together.” Emily squeals. “He’s from New York but I think he was truly interested in you Y/N. He was bold enough to ask for your number!”

“Did you give him your number?” Harry asks Y/N without looking at her. He was biting the inside of his cheek pretty hard trying to pretend as if he didn’t care at all. Suddenly he was too focused on watching the show on his TV.

“Yeah.”

“Cool”

And although Emily continued the conversation, Harry didn’t think it was cool at all.

~

Knock...knock…

Y/N hears the soft knocks on her door as she leaves her ensuite. A couple of hours ago the conversation in the living room ended leaving them to rest in separate rooms of the house. 

“Hey.” She catches herself off guard as she sees Harry in front of her when she opens the door. She glanced at his familiar outfit and for some odd reason, it made her feel good. He was wearing his sweatpants and an old band tee she used to wear when he stayed at her’s for a few nights.

 “I was wondering if we could uh talk.” He glances at the hallway he’s standing in. He was scared Emily would walk out of her room.

 “Oh yeah Sure. Come in.” Y/N opens her door a bit wider to let him in. Her luggage was messily opened in the corner of her room while her shopping bags stayed on the other side. She mindlessly hides her arms in her sweater and sits on the bed. “Funny how you want to talk but you’ve been ignoring me for 3 months.”

“Uh just thought it was a good time to talk to you since we’re not really at work and we’re not surrounded by people.” Y/N rolls her eyes. He had to be bullshitting her.

“Why are you here Harry? Are you thinking you can sleep with me tonight? That this is an opportunity?” Y/N gives a disgusted look as she watches Harry standing in front of her with his arms crossed. 

“What? No. Y/N… I just- Fuck.” He lets his arms out in disbelief. “ I don’t know why I’m here. I’ll leave.” He turns around but her voice calls him out. 

“No. Stay. You obviously have something to tell me.” He turns around and sighs. He sits beside her on the mattress and looks at his hands.

“I miss you.” He blurts out. Y/N rubs her eyes, not from tiredness but because she misses him too -so mainly from frustration. 

“You can’t say that.” 

“You told me to stay and tell you what I needed to tell you.”

“You didn’t need to tell me that.” Y/N pulls her hands from her face and sarcastically laughs at him. She knew she was still in love with him but she also knew their break up was for the right reason. Their affair was wrong. He didn’t know what he wanted and she knew too specifically what she needed.

“Well, you’re right.” He replies with a bit of an attitude. “I don’t know- just forget this ever happened.”

“Okay good, I’ll go back to texting Elliot.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders and reaches for her phone but before she knows it, Harry grabs her phone and unlocks it. It was still his birthday as her passcode and although that made him feel a bit better, he stood up to recite to her the stupid messages on her phone. 

He tries to hide his red cheeks as he scrolls through their text messages. “Did he just ask you what your favourite colour was?” Harry squints his eyes as he looks at her. He was carefully observing her reaction to his texts.  “That’s a stupid question.”

“I found it cute.” Y/N speaks over him. “Are you done looking at MY messages.”

“Bub, you actually think you’re going to get with this guy?” Harry looks away from the phone and looks at her. “He seems like a total wim-”

“Don’t call me bub Harry!” She interrupts him. “Especially, since you’ve been calling me stupid in front of all my colleagues at work during these past two months!” Y/N furrows her brows as she takes her phone back. She hates that he’s here right now. He’s acting like he wasn’t a total ass to her at her work.

“Shit Y/N.” That’s when he realized he fucked up. “Okay, I’m sorry about that.” He watches her as he combs his hair back. 

 “You can’t just come in here, say you miss me and look through my personal text messages. You pretended as if I didn’t exist these past few months and that hurt me!”

“Y/N, I’ve been hurting too!” Harry walks closer to her and shakes his head. “Don’t think our relationship meant nothing to me.” 

“Well, you sure as hell mastered the acting skill! Don’t try to manipulate me, Harry. You ignored me. You embarrassed me. You’ve been treating me like shit!”

“I needed to move on from you Y/N. I had to manipulate myself into thinking I was making the right choice. Our relationship was the only thing making me happy.”

“Do you have any proof of our relationship?” Y/N sarcastically replies as she closes her MacBook and places it on the nightstand. “You have all these pictures of you and your wife but everything about us is hidden.” Harry’s eyes widened. “I lie to my family. You come to my apartment taking the hidden roads and a thick cover-up. Do you think that makes me feel better? Knowing you’re not just hiding me but your affair from the public.”

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is wrong with you? What’s up with your obsession with us being public? Do you want fame or something?”

“How dare you?” Y/N stands up to meet his height. “Is that what you think of me? Using you for fame!”

“It sure damn seems like it.” Harry rolls his eyes as he walks forward to her, making them the closest they’ve been in for months. 

“Harry, I’m 23! Everyone I know makes it clear they’re in a relationship. Just because people know about us, it doesn’t mean I would publicize everything we do. I just need evidence that this relationship we have between us is real!”

“YN are you bloody kidding me right now. Of course, it’s real! What have we been doing these past years?”

“Messing around?” Y/N scoffs. “You’re married and for some goddamn reason you won’t leave her!”

“Even if I ended things with her, I would still keep you a secret Y/N. I don’t know what you want from me.” Harry calmly states as he closes his eyes. 

“There’s a difference in keeping me a secret and having our relationship known to the public but being very private.”

“I don’t know why this matters to you so much. You know I care about you and I want to be yours. Fuck -I was yours.” Harry wipes his eyes a bit. 

“You don’t know why it matters to me so much because you aren’t me. You don’t know how it feels to have the second bits of someone. You don't even understand how I feel -to be so in love with someone, only to know from the beginning they were never fully yours, to begin with.”

“You love me?” Harry chokes on his breath as he looks down at her. He obviously knew they had such a deep connection but he never thought about love when it came to them. You want to know why?

Love always makes everything complex and hurtful. He fell in love for the first time with his wife and look where it led him? In a broken marriage where he no longer had hope. He had wishes and dreams for the two of them and throughout the years, they all disappeared in a drought.

 Love is such a pleasing and attractive feeling that every human wants but why does it always end opposite for him? To be in love is different. You have to be vulnerable and Harry has never done that with Y/N. He doesn’t even know if he can do that again. He already fell in love and found someone who he would call his partner. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. That didn’t go as planned.

“Yes.” Y/N looks down but Harry’s hand rests on her chin to make her look at him again. 

“Why couldn’t you tell me sooner?” He was stalling. He was asking her questions so he wouldn’t have to explain his feelings for her. He was also trying to let her down slowly. 

“Last time I spoke to you, you told me you wouldn’t leave your wife because she was your first love.”

“Oh.”

“Is she your only?”

“My only what?”

“Your only love?”

Silence.

There’s your answer.

“For a husband to cheat on his wife, people would say you have a big ego but I don’t think so. Elliot isn’t the wimp Harry… you are.”

“It takes two to tango Y/N. Don’t just blame me.” Harry lets his hand fall. “I have rules I stand by when it comes to marriage and you know how much of a pain she is!”

“You told me you wanted to leave her but that never happened! I kept telling myself that our relationship was okay but why was it still killing me?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at him. “ Do you still love her?”

“No,” Harry answers immediately. 

“Why are you still holding onto her? Why can’t you see that she’s not making you happy and you need to get out of this marriage.”

“Because it’s marriage Y/N! I committed myself to her for my whole life!”

“You sure as hell weren’t committed last year!”

“You don’t understand because you aren’t married!” Harry finally screams the loudest. His face was red and it seemed like the blood vessel in his neck was about to burst.

“You’re telling me… you rather have me continue compromising my morals and keep this relationship hidden just so you can have the best of both worlds?” Y/N scoffs. “You’re stupid.”

“I know.”

“You can’t have everything. I know you’re famous and rich but you made the choice not to fight for me two months ago and now I’m choosing the same.” Y/N shakes her head and rests her back on the wall. She looks at him with disappointment in her eyes. “I don’t know why we keep having this same fight. We always go through the same topic and the same arguments. Although I’m fighting for what I need in a relationship, I’m also fighting for you to realize you’re better off without her.” 

“I guess you can say I’m a bit stubborn.” He speaks up in a soft voice trying to communicate with her in a more respectful tone. “It’s okay if you don’t want me again. I just needed to tell you I miss you. Ever since we broke up, I realized how much of an impact you made on me.” He repeats.

“Ok.”

“Do you miss me?” His mouth pouts as he watches her. “Have you ever?”

“Of course I did Harry. I loved you.”

“Wait a minute. You don’t love me anymore?” Harry was quite offended to hear that from her.

 “What? No… it’s complicated. I can’t describe it.”

“You either love me or you don’t.”

“I’m trying to move on. Why can’t you let me? You don’t seem to love me back anyway!”

Silence.

"Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do” He admits to her., letting his confession easily slip through his lips.

“Resisting you was harder yet I failed.”

-

After their conversation, Harry left Y/N’s room to get some sleep. Although he approached her with the main goal of receiving closure he realized that his true main reason was to win her back. Maybe it was because of this Elliot guy but Harry couldn't imagine her with someone else. It made him drown in jealousy and sadness -A feeling that his lover knew all too well. That night, he realized he couldn’t have what he wanted. He’s confused about his feelings and how he could win back Y/N. 

“Thank you for meeting with me.” Harry lays his head on his mum’s couch as she sits in front of him. Today was their last day in London since tomorrow morning they were going to the airport. Harry knew he had to visit his mum and ask for advice since he needed someone to talk to.

“You’re my son. Of course Harry. What are you saying?”

“I don’t know.” he closes his eyes as he explains everything to his mother. He began with the cold turn of his marriage and later on shared his affair with Y/N and how confused he’s feeling right now.

\\

“For god’s sake. I can’t believe you.” Anne expresses her disappointment. “Harry, I’m not proud of you cheating. I never thought you would do this. Now you-”

“I think I love Y/N.” Harry interrupts her as he rubs his hands on his thighs. Anne lets out a sigh but displays an understanding look.

“If you love her, you’d be willing to compromise and fix things to make her happy. She’s right you know? Why are you still tied up to that other woman if she barely acknowledges you? You never told me about this.”

“Because I don’t want you to worry mum.” He looks at her and rests his elbows on his thighs. “I thought the whole marriage thing would fade away since I’m barely in it. I just thought everything would slowly change and I’d be back to who I was before I became a husband. I was hurt when she became cold to me but I slowly just forgot about her and went on with my day. I was only seeing her 5 times a day and I was starting to be okay with that but whenever someone would ask me something about her or I’m at an event, I realize I’m married. I made promises that I barely kept.”

“She never kept them either.”

“I know. Our marriage was over years ago before we truly started. I just -I don’t want to have a divorce like you and dad. I know you might be offended but I cried my heart out when you told me and Gem you two were splitting up. I promised myself I would never do that.”

“You were 8 Harry. You didn’t understand how love and marriage were so complex. Your father and I just didn’t work but that doesn’t mean I can’t find another person and have that life I always imagined. Rob was that man for me. I think you’re thinking about everything a little bit too hard that you don’t even realize the girl you love is slipping through your fingertips.”

She’s right.

“I’m scared that she won’t be happy with me after I change everything for her. I’m scared she’ll be just like the other woman I married.”

“You can’t let that stop you. It’s unfair for the two of you. You need to fight for her. And don’t think I’m encouraging you and your cheating but I want you to be happy and if that’s with her. I’m okay with that.”

“I need to talk to her.”

~

It was around 6 PM by the time Harry came home. He barely parked his car into his garage as he entered the house. He noticed Emily was just about to leave.

“Harry! Our interview went great today.” Emily looks up after rummaging in her purse. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“I-um have to pee?” Harry’s cheeks turn red as he leans on the railway and slowly climbs the stairs.

“Oh go then! My uber is here. I forgot to buy some treats for my kids.”

“Oh okay. Is uh Y/N here?” He bites his lip as he watches Emily walk to the front door.

“Yeah, she’s packing. She finished her marketing meeting for your shop like an hour ago.”

“K, thanks. See you tonight.” And with that, Harry jogged up the stairs to go to her room.

Knock… knock…

Deja-vu hits Y/N as she opens her door and sees Harry standing behind it. “Hi, you’re here again. The most I’ve spoken to you after the last three months.” Harry says nothing as he steps inside the room and closes the door.

“I’m leaving her.” He blurts out. He glances at her cozy outfit and her messy room before looking at her again.

“Oh.” Y/N’s eyes widen but she turns around and continues to fold her clothes into her luggage. “That’s a good decision to make. What made you change your mind?”

“You.”

“Harry, We were together for a year and you still didn’t want to leave her.” She sits on her bed and gives him a knowing look. “What made you change your mind?” She repeats.

“Um, I’ll share it with you. When I was eight, my parents divorced. After that, I promised myself I would take love and marriage so seriously -There would only be one person meant for me.”

“I never knew that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared to be vulnerable with you.” 

“But you opened up so easily to me about who you were. I just never knew this side of you.”

“I know.” Harry clears his throat and walks towards her. “It’s stupid to think about that rule I made to heart when I was younger. Things are different and I have you or at least I want you.” He closes his eyes for a brief second.. “I spoke to my mum and she told me you‘re right.”

“I know I am.” Y/N lets out a small laugh. 

“I just needed someone other than you to tell me it was okay to leave her. I know she and I aren’t even really together but everyone we know thinks we are.”

“Oh.”

“Look I’m sorry that I make things harder for us. I hated talking about the consequences of our relationship because it made me feel guilty and you don’t deserve to be the reason why. You make me so happy and I- I never took into account how truly you felt about our relationship. I continued to put you in a position you didn’t want to be in.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N purses her lips and looks at him, “Even though you were a total ass after our break up you know I still love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.” 

“Y/N I made myself promise that I would only love one woman and I never really thought about loving you when we were together. Maybe because it was so natural, the feeling went straight to my heart and I never thought about it. B seeing you at work yet feeling so distant from you and our relationship made me recognize how serious I was about you. With that, my wife never made me feel the way I’m with you. You taught me things to make me a better person. She’s different from who I fell in love with before and that’s okay because I’m different too now. ”

“So you aren’t just bluffing. You’re going to leave her. Not just for me but for you too?”

“Yes, I’m doing it for us.” He smirks at her and rests his hands on her waist. “I don’t know why I was stalling.”

“Well, now you’re here.” Y/N smiles as she reaches out to him. “I miss you.” She immediately kisses him as his hands intertwine with her hair, making him desperately kiss her back. 

“I miss you too baby.” He pushes her down gently on the bed as he carries her clothes off the bed and onto the bed. “I don’t know if I want to make love to you or fuck you so hard because I miss you.”

“Just do both. Over and over again.” Y/N whispers as she unzips her hoodie and takes off her shorts, leaving her in just her underwear. Harry locks her door and returns back as he quickly takes his shirt off. 

“Fuck you look so beautiful. My sweet angel. I can’t believe I had to lose you for a while.” He eyes her greedily before leaning down to leave soft kisses down her chest. His hands pull her down the bed and spread her legs open as his mouth continues to go south. “You don’t know how many times I thought about just fucking you over the desk at your work.”

“You barely spoke to me.” Y/N laughs as she watches Harry kneel on the floor. She quickly shuts up, however,  as she feels his hot mouth teasing her covered wet center.

 “Didn’t change the fact I had sleepless nights craving your body and needing your cuddles.” His cheeks turn red.

“What else did you want to do then.” Y/N takes her bra off and lets her fingers tug his hair. She was impatient, was it obvious? Both of them only had their hands to keep them happy.

 “Last month when I screamed at you in the meeting about merch prices, I was so hard because of your unbuttoned blouse. I couldn’t focus and I needed you out of the room.”

“I wasn’t even doing-”

“You were staring at me and rolling your eyes baby. I know my bad girl when she’s mad. I was so tempted to just pull you by your hair and make you suck my dick.”

“Then let me suck you off now.”

“Nuh, It’s about you,”Harry mumbles and kisses her inner thigh before ripping her thin underwear apart. “Fuck, so wet. I missed the way you taste baby.” Harry immediately dives in, letting his mouth suck on her clit as his fingers dance their way to her needy core.

“Har-”

“Call me what you want to call me.” Harry looks at her as his mouth bites and sucks on her thighs.

 “Daddy.” She moans out as his fingers quicken their pace. Her hands holding onto his hair as his mouth greedily attacked her. Licking and sucking without any mercy.

“Play with your titties baby while you watch me fuck you with my fingers.” He instructs as Y/N holds herself with one arm and plays with her boob with the other. 

“You make me feel so good. Oh my god.” Harry quickens his pace as he spits on her center, making him watch his saliva drip down to the sheets. 

“Turn around.” He helps her into the position before slapping her butt cheek. “Guess I’m going to fuck you first.”

“I need you so badly. Fuck, you ruined me for any other guy out there.” Y/N rests her head on the mattress as she feels him tease her centre. His pants were half off since he was too focused on his girl.

“So no boyfriends these past couple months.”

“No.”

“What about Elliot?”“

I was just starting to talk-” Harry inserts himself in. His hands tightly holding onto her waist. 

“You’re going to stop talking to him right? Cuz you’re mine.”

“Mhm…” Y/N turns herself around after a couple of thrusts, making her look directly at him. “Have you been uh seeing any-?” 

“No. Couldn’t get my mind off you and I just wanted your company.”“

Oh fuck, harder.” Her eyes roll back as Harry hits her most sensitive spot. His hand rests on her stomach as the other wondered around her body. 

“You’re so good for me baby.” He grunts as he leans down to kiss her. 

“Fuck, I’m going to come.”

“Just let go, it’s alright love, I'm here.” Harry softly reassures her with his hand wrapped around her neck.

So, this is what it feels like to be in heaven? Y/N thinks to herself as she finally reaches her high. Harry quickened his pace and by the time, he knows it -he spills his seed right inside of her.

“I love you Y/N.”

~

The trio was now back in America as they stood outside of LAX. Emily was in the car talking to her husband while Harry and Y/N decided to stay outside and talk. They were still waiting for the airport’s security to lead them out of the lot since there were paparazzi outside of this VIP parking area they were in.

“Do you think soulmates are real?” Y/N asks Harry. They stood 5 feet apart, both resting their backs on the car. They were acting as colleagues, as friends -not lovers.

“Yes.” He glances at her through his shades. “No matter where we go or what happens, the universe would lead us back to each other.”

“Are you saying I’m your soulmate?” she sucks on her lollipop innocently as she smirks at him. Harry just smiles back and nods as he crosses his arms again. 

That’s cute.

“I’m happy I have you again.”

“You better not be a bitch to me when you visit the office.”

“Me? A bitch?” Harry laughs at her statement.

“You’re sassy! Why else do you think I angrily stare at you at work.”

“I know. It pained me to walk right past you the first day after our breakup.” Harry stares at the concrete wall in front of them. “Did you notice I was in the office more though? I kind of hated you but I had this constant need to see you all time. I even started bugging Marissa and Paul about the marketing contracts so I could work with you through lunches.”

“A simp.” Y/N laughs.

 “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” She laughs at how clueless he is.

“Your hands look cold. Mind if I warm them up.” Harry intently looked at her hands that seemed to be doing alright. 

“We’re in LA and you think I’m cold.” She gives him a funny glare.“Just accept my flirtatious attempt to hold your hand.”

“Emily is inside the car and there’s paparazzi outside.”

“And?” 

“You can’t just

“Thought you wanted physical proof we’re together. No one is going to see us.”

“Security camer-”

“Walk closer to me.” Harry interrupts her. She follows along and stands beside him. He secretly reaches behind them to grab her hand. Now they were holding hands but no one could see. 

“You’re cute y’know.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at her. 

“Well, I should go in the car. There’s AC.” Y/N laughs at his cute attempt. As she walks away, her hand is still intertwined with his leading him to quickly pull her into him so he can kiss her.

“Sorry I couldn't stop myself.” His eyes widen. 

They immediately pull away. Harry looks inside the car to see Emily talking on the phone looking outside the window towards the other way. Thank the lord, she didn’t see them.

“Mr. Styles, the security is outside already. We can go.”

~

“Harry!” Y/N yells out his name through the speaker.

“Hi baby, I just woke up.”

“You have to rea.. read the news.” She was crying so badly that she could barely breathe.

“Why? What happened?” 

“They know Harry. Everyone knows about us and Paul just called me in for a meeting.”

His heart was beating fast as he hung up the call without bidding her goodbye or comforting her. His wife was sleeping in the other room but he could already hear the vases and picture frames being thrown at the walls. 

TMZ

Harry Styles is Caught Cheating on His Wife With Mysterious Girl!!!

Daily mail

Harry Styles is a Womanizer!

People

Harry Styles’ mistress is Y/N L/N!!!

Hollywood Life

All About Harry Styles’ Affair with Columbia Records Employee!

part three ici