#hopefully if I find out what it doing so badly I can fix it

[kozidraws]

I'm feeling a bit stuck art wise, I need to improve but there is just SO MUCH I need to improve on I'm lost on which area to focus on first. 😭😭😭😭

[avaf00rd]

Fridge

Little shits pt 2

Kyra Cooney cross x teen!reader (platonic)

actually finished this shockingly quick. (Not proof read). Submitting it now and going to sleep. So it’s bad.

I had a Leah fic that was pretty good but then half didn’t save in the draft. And rewriting is the worst. I’ll try to get back into it tomorrow if I can promise.

Enjoy bbys

——————————————-

“shit.” Kyra blankly said as she made a huge dent in the mcfoord new fridge. Don’t ask how.

“How the fuck did you manage that!” You exclaimed checking out the massive mark left right in the middle of the fridge.

You and Kyra had been in Baylor against Katie and Caitlin for a few weeks now. It was hilarious to all of you. You were also all getting great content for the Arsenal new YouTube channel where different players would do vlogs of game days and other activities.

“Ok everyone Kyra just broke the fridge” you sighed running your palm over your forehead looking back into the camera

“It’s not definitely broken. We can just undo it” she said. You grabbed the camera to point it towards her raising one eyebrow.

“It’s as big as a bowling ball” you said. Kyra turned to you and the camera with a blank expression.

“I say we grab the toilet plunger.” Before quickly getting up to find it.

“If I were Katie I would rather have massive dent on my fridge then have the fridge smell like my own shit.” You sighed as u sat down on the stool. You two were truly truly fucked this time. Some of your pranks included putting pictures of drunk Caitlin all around every second cubby at the training grounds. This round it was slightly lighter by super gluing the lids to their foods in the fridge. Lame right? Kyra somehow managed to pick up a random pot and accidentally charge it straight into the fridge. You forgot about the camera as you were lost in thought thinking about how badly you fucked up this time. Brand new fridge for their brand new place. It was over.

“Ok no plunge but I did some googling. We just need an ice cube” you guys were the definition of blind leading the blind. So of course you grabbed an ice cube and placed it on the large dent 10 times its size. “Is it working” Kyra asked holding the camera towards you and the ice cube. You slowly turned your head around to face her wiht a blank expression reading no you fucking idiot.

A knock on the door made you both share a look of panic. “The pantry” Kyra pointed intending that you just run away from this problem.

“No dumb ass” you said before getting up and walking to the door. You were nearly 100% it wasn’t Caitlin and Katie as you walked the hallway before twisting the handle.

“Hey tiny” Leah said in surprise to find you here.

“Hey Leah”

“What on earth are you doing here” she questioned

“We need your help” you said hopefully. Kyra peaking around the corner to be seen with a sad smile and a nod. Leah slightly chuckled before following you down the hall. Where you stood from afar with Kyra pointing to the fridge. Leah just bursted out laughing.

“Shit you did this” she chuckled checking it out.

“Yes what do we do!” You slightly yelled. Kyra still in shock from what happened.

“Don’t worry about it. They might be mad but Katie was telling me a new fridge and oven was arriving so it doesn’t really matter-“

“This is the new fridge!” Kyra exclaimed

Leah jaw slightly fell “you’ve truly done it again children”

“Leah please answer. What do we do?” You asked desperate for help.

“We wait until they get home” she said softly before filling up a cup of water for herself and sitting at the dining room table on her phone.

You waited around 20 minutes doing nothing. Kyra on her phone, probably researching how to fix it. And you now just sitting next to Leah looking out the window. It might not seem like a big deal. But a brand new expensive fridge, with a possible non-fixable problem was defiantly a big deal to your young minds. You just had a plan in your mind. Offer to pay to fix it. If you can’t fix it. You and Kyra will go halves on a replacement. Kyra tried to rebuttal when you brought up that plan, but quickly shut up when she realised it was the only option.

This was amusing to Leah. The panic in your faces made her laugh. The whole team was just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

“Let me get this straight you were trying to superglue all of their food? Aha! That’s good” Leah exclaimed with a goofiness in her voice. You and Kyra just sat their blankly. Kyra soon chuckling at the thought of how this whole situation is kind of funny.

A rattle of keys on the front door made your heart completely stop. “Oh hey Leah. And girls. Oh shit what did you do” Caitlin asked with a smirk on her face kind of ready to see the next prank. Just so she could then plot her next one.

“Ok ok so” you put your hands on both their chests before they could walk much further. “We were doing a light hearted prank right. Then we made a mistake. Dear Kyra here-“

“-we both made a mistake ok! We are very very sorry and we will pay for this.” Kyra said. You both stood in front of the three older girls with your hands behind your backs. Apologising like a five year old who just stole lollies.

“Huh” Katie said confused towards the girls, while Caitlin walked into the kitchen to put her bags down.

“Kyra Cooney cross!” There was a yell across the flat. A somewhat fuming Caitlin voice coming from the source. Katie quickly following to see.

“It wasn’t just me!” Kyra quickly defended in panic.

“You did this!” You said to Kyra . Then looking at the two other girls

“I’m gonna head” Leah waved before leaving behind all of you.

“I’ll pay to get it fixed. Even though I didn’t do it” you said to them. Mumbling the last part, targeted towards Kyra.

“Bet your ass you guys will” Katie said

“This is new” Caitlin said looking at the fridge

“That we both know. And we are very very very very sorry a million times” Kyra said pointing between the two of you. You just nodded next to her.

“Sleep with one eye open. Next one will be serious” Katie said smirking. Plotting her next prank.

“You two can go” Caitlin waved you and the 21 year old off. Kyra nodded quickly zooming down the halls.

“Send me your bank details!” You said before walking out. Forgetting the camera on the bench. You went to grab it before heading out again.

“Bye gooners!” You said. Before turning the camera to Kyra who was waiting for the elevator next to you. Who turned around and poking her tongue out.

[naamahdarling]

Edit: Thank you all so, so much. I am incredibly moved and incredibly grateful for everything you all have done. Donations, signal boosts, kind words. We can cover their food for at least one month. Anything sent from here out is most welcome and will go towards their needs, but the food crisis is past for now!

The extra will be held until Raleigh sees the specialist on the 11th and either put towards vet bills or used to get him more of his stinky wet food.

----

Guys, we REALLY need help paying for cat food. This is not normally an issue, they come first, but a lot of bad shit happened this month and it has literally taken everything we had. I have tried my hardest to stretch their food to the end of the month but the boys, all three, are out of scrip food TOMORROW.

I'm so sorry. I don't want to be doing this.

It isn't helped by the fact that their food has shot up in price so much I can't believe it.

Please if you can help we would be so grateful. Just five bucks. My boyfriend's PayPal is theothershea@gmail.com.

We need a total refill on Dried Pickle Man/Sid tummy care kibble, and hopefully a month of wet food for Raleigh, which is around $300 for it all. That sadly isn't an error. That isn't even touching the cost of their vet plans and vet debt, which are another $300, and we are behind by about $100 on the vet plans. But all we really need is most of that $300 for food.

The boys can't be off their scrip food. Sid becomes violently ill (I had to buy hospital biohazard spill absorber for when he throws up) with even a little regular food, and Dried Pickle Man eats the same food he does. For Raleigh, well, he's dying. He needs to be kept comfortable for what time he has left and without this food he develops extremely painful and very dangerous urinary crystals very fast and without wet food he can't eat without severe pain in his mouth. We are trying to fix his teeth but need clearance from a specialist which we cannot get until July. He has already been off his scrip food for a couple of days.

We have gotten along this far via Patreon every month, which pays for a lot of the cat stuff, but PayPal and Patreon are holding over $700 of our money due to some sort of technical issue and I don't know when that can be resolved. Without it, we will have nothing in either bank account by the end of the month. Like. Nothing.

We need help. Badly.

Again, my boyfriend's PayPal is theothershea@gmail.com.

All money will go to him to get food for the cats and pay for their monthly plans and medical debt.

This is Raleigh, who will take your fingers and kiss them if you hold your hand out. Please at least help us get wet food for him so he can eat without pain while he is still here to hold my hand.

(If Raleigh does pass before his food runs out, we can easily return the remaining cans and put that money toward the cost of the euthanasia.)

(Reference, reference. These foods cost the same everywhere I can find, and have gone up in price a lot because greedflation, which is a big part of why paying is suddenly more of an issue.)

[literaila]

what was readers (atf) reaction to finding out tsumiki being cursed and put in coma? probably felt like she’s failed at protecting her children after years of balancing their lives and safety. hopefully sobbed in gojos arms 😭

“satoru,” you croak out.

your voice is nothing but a mere whisper. it’s a drop of water in the ocean, a footstep on the expanse of the world.

you’ve never felt so small. you’ve never felt like your actions mean nothing more. never more helpless, than this.

“hey,” satoru says, and you know that he can tell that there’s something wrong. “what’s going on?”

“can you come home?”

“yeah, yeah of course i can, baby. i’ll call ijichi to pick me back up. what’s happening?”

“satoru,” you say, again, because there’s almost nothing left.

“hey. hey. we’ll fix it, whatever it is. talk to me.”

“tsumiki’s in the hospital.”

your hands clench around the steering wheel. there might be an ethical discussion to be had about the danger of driving with tears in your eyes, talking on the phone.

but you could give less than a damn about safety, right now. right now—it just doesn’t matter.

there’s a pause.

you can hear satoru breathing.

“what?”

“megumi—“ you wipe your eyes, speeding up. the law can be damned too. “megumi said that she wouldn’t get out of bed this morning—that he couldn’t wake her up. and so he called me and then i—“ you stop, gasping for air that’s practically unreachable. “i told him to—“ but you break off again, because your throat is burning.

“what hospital?”

“i don’t—i can’t remember the name.”

“okay.”

“i’ll—i’ll send it to you. when i get there. im on my way now.”

“are you driving?”

“yeah.”

“okay, baby. send it to me when you can.”

your eyes well up once again. “did you finish your mission?”

“no. i’d just gotten here. it’s probably better that way, ijichi isn’t far. i’ll be there soon as i can, okay?”

“okay. i—i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

you can’t hold back a gasp, a sob, any iteration of failure that might fit. “satoru,” you say, wishing so badly that he was right there with you. “i should’ve stayed home. megumi shouldn’t have found her, he shouldn’t have—“

“you think this is you fault?”

“i just—i shouldn’t have left them alone. what if—“

“no.” satoru is almost whining, but not quite. “megumi isn’t six anymore, sweetheart. he’s fourteen. he’s alone all of the time. how were you supposed to know—“

“i’m their mom. i’m supposed to protect them from stuff like this.”

“you can’t control when something bad happens.”

“i can’t—she’s—“

“we’re going to figure it out. tsumiki’s strong—she’s probably the strongest of all of us. she’ll be fine.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do.”

“why’d this have to happen to her? to our little—“ you stop, feeling that digging in the pit of your soul. that tiny little chant—failure, failure, failure.

“i don’t know,” satoru whispers. “i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

“i don’t know,” he whispers again.

“is ijichi there yet?”

“almost.”

“okay.”

“hey,” he says, again, in some kind of secret language. “it’s going to be fine.”

“okay.”

“are you still driving, baby?”

“i’m almost there. one, two minutes.”

“want me to stay on the phone?”

“yes.”

“okay. i’m right here. i’m almost there,” and he says it over and over.

hoping that maybe it’ll come true.

though, you’re not quite sure that satoru will ever get there fast enough.

[in1-nutshell]

Uh hi, this my first ever resquest, and i'm sorry if things don't make sense, english is not my first language.

Could i get tfp bot buddy who has shadow powers(like can turn into one and use them as portals), has the appearance of nightmares and is close to Ultra Magnus(dunno if is platonic, familial or romantic)?

They kinda been living as Ultra Magnus shadow since forever and help him on missions,tasks or just anything, but in one of their missions, the decepticons maneged to reallyyy hurt buddy and buddy, not wanting to die, retreated to Ultra Magnus shadow and went into stasis to heal but Ultra Magnus didn't knew that and thought that buddy had perished.

Only now on earth did buddy finally wakes up.

Could i get reactions from the team or something like that if not, that's okay :) also love your writing

Magnus was so close to having a spark attack when he saw Buddy pop out of his shadow the first time they used their powers, that's for sure.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy with shadow manipulation and being Ultra Magnus's Amica Endura

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Buddy met Magnus through Optimus.

He introduced them to Magnus during the earlier years of the war as his Second in Command.

Magnus just thought he was getting to know another coworker.

A couple missions later, several late-night conversations and some free time later they become Amica Endura.

“You know you never did tell HOW you became Amica with Commander shoulder pads over there. Was it a bet you loss?”--Wheeljack

“No bets were lost Wheeljack. We became Amica out of our own choice and free will. Nothing else to do with it.”--Buddy

“Sure…”--Wheeljack

Buddy loves to prank Magnus with their shadow powers.

Magnus does not find this funny… but he does find it a bit endearing after a while.

Being an Outlier was rare to find in this world.

Even rarer to find after the war broke out.

So many had been the first ones targeted at the beginning of the war there were barely anymore left.

It was a risk putting Buddy in the Wrecker’s, but so far it brought greater success to the unit than any point in their formation.

“Freeze Autobot scum!”—Random Decepticon

Buddy putting their servo in the air almost mockingly.

“There’s three of you and one of me… what ever shall I do?”--Buddy

Buddy’s servos start glowing a bit.

“Have you met my Amica?”--Buddy

“Why would we—”—Random Con

SLAM!

Magnus takes out the three mechs after appearing from behind thanks to Buddy’s shadow powers.

“That was brutal!”--Buddy

Magnus fixes his blaster a bit.

“I hate when you put yourself in these situations.”--Magnus

“Its in the job description Mags.”--Buddy

“Buddy we’ve been over this.”--Magnus

“And we’ve been over this too.”--Buddy

“…”--Magnus

“…”--Buddy

“First one that takes out five Cons has to buy the other a drink.”--Buddy

“If you insist.”--Magnus

Buddy has defiantly used their powers to get Magnus to sneak up on unsuspecting troops.

Magnus is always there for Buddy when they overexert themselves and need someone to watch over their back.

One trip left Buddy badly injured.

They saw Magnus’s backside as he was trying to find them in the rubble of the exploding base.

They tried to call for him, but they could barely keep their optics open.

His shadow was the closest thing they could reach so they snuck into his shadow.

With a quick nap, their wounds would get healed in no time.

Magnus thought that Buddy had died in the explosion after coming back to the base for regrouping.

He checked all other places they set rendezvous points and in none of the places did he even find a trace of Buddy.

Magnus could see it in the optics of his Wrecker’s that the war was about to turn bloodier than it was now that Buddy was gone.

Hopefully things would get better…

Hope was the last thing they had.

Timeskip to Magnus being on Earth…

Buddy finally feels ready to get out of the shadow.

Yeah, it took a while to finally get healed, but they are sure they are ready now.

By their calculations they missed about a couple weeks in the war. Things couldn’t have changed that much.

Magnus is arguing with Wheeljack when Bulkhead sees something wrong with Magnus’s shadow.

“Hey guys, shadows aren’t supposed to do that right?”--Bulkhead

Miko looks from the perch.

“Wow! Wheeljack made Magnus so mad his shadow gained sentience!”--Miko

In a blink there is a bot laying on the floor rubbing their helm.

“Urgh! Never doing that again… hey Mags when did we get better lighting—Mags?”--Buddy

Ultra Magnus stares at Buddy with wide optics.

“By the Allspark! Buddy is that you?!”—Wheeljack

“Who’s that?”--Miko

Buddy moves their helm a bit and spots Wheeljack.

“Wheeljack? I thought you left cycles ago—Hey!”--Buddy

Bulkhead scoops Buddy from behind giving them a crushing hug.

“Bulkhead!? I thought you left to team Prime? Magnus? Magnus what’s going on?”—Buddy

“Seriously who’s that?”--Miko

Magnus remains still just staring at Buddy like a ghost.

Buddy gets out of Bulkhead’s grip stumbling a bit until they reach their Amica with a worried look on their face.

“Mags? Are you okay?”--Buddy

“I…I thought you had perished in the explosion. I looked everywhere…”--Magnus

Buddy scratches their helm a bit.

“Yeah, I got injured pretty badly back there. Your shadow was the closest thing I could reach and… well…”--Buddy

“So, this entire time you’ve been in Ultra Magnus’s shadow?”--Wheeljack

Buddy furies their optics a bit.

“You’re making this sound like I was gone for millennia. I was just gone for a couple of weeks most.”—Buddy

Magnus gives them a sad smile.

“…You never were good at your calculations Buddy.”--Magnus

Magnus puts a servo on his Amica’s shoulder.

“Mags?”--Buddy

“Mags?”--Miko

Buddy finally looks over at Miko.

“Who’s this?”--Buddy

“I’m Miko! Welcome to Earth!”--Miko

Buddy’s optics widen.

“How long was I in there!?”—Buddy

Optimus walks into the room with some of the reports.

“Ultra Magnus where—Buddy?”--Optimus

“WHY IS PRIME SO BIG!?”--Buddy

[mochamamii]

yandere!nct: you try to unalive yourself.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I can’t remember if I’ve written something like this before but I wanted write something a little darker today but soon I will force myself to write some fluff I promise lol.

▹ pairing: yandere!nct x reader

▹ triggers: self-harm, readers attempts to unalive themselves, kidnapping, forced relationships

▹ warning!: I can’t stress enough how triggering this might be, I get descriptive at certain parts and I strongly urge you to consider whether this is something you want to read, this is dark and not my normal writing. please prioritize your own well-being and do not read this if it will influence you in anyway, I have lots of other lighter reads 💕

Taeil won’t let it get this far. Taeil loves you deeply and wants only the best for you no matter how demented it appears to others. He dotes on, and nurtures you like his life depends on it, carefully crafting your meals and your routine to keep your mind and body healthy. If something like this were about to happen, he would be able to foresee your declining mental state and hopefully prevent any attempts. Taeil would do everything in his power to keep you safe and he’d do his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He’d even consider letting you go if it meant saving your life.

“How could you do this to yourself? Don’t I take care of you well?”

Johnny is always calm and collected, even when he’s pissed off, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he always keeps the same mask on, never giving you any idea of what he’s thinking inside his head. Until now that is…He comes home to find you on the bathroom floor. At first he thought you must’ve slipped, hitting your head and knocking yourself out in the process, not that it had been done intentionally. Johnny is at a loss of what to do, it’s one of the few times he’s not sure what to say or do to fix this. He usually has a witty comeback to lighten the mood but he knows now isn’t the time. He helps fix you up, cleans the wound on your head, and tucks you in bed. Anytime you part your lips to speak he’ll shush you. The two of you will probably sit in silence for a while until he can figure out how to address this.

“It’s okay, shhh…Just rest, save your energy. We’ll talk about it later.”

Taeyong is an angry mix of emotions. He’s known for at least a week now that you somehow managed to obtain poison. He theorized that you must’ve used cleaning supplies to mix a cocktail of chemicals, he found you hiding your stash under the bathroom sink. He assumed your plan was to use it on him, simply out of curiousity and amusement he wanted to see if you were actually capable of trying to kill him so he didn’t address it. He wanted to see how far you’d go to leave him. He waited and waited, but he never noticed anything different. He already had cameras installed in your shared apartment to watch you while he was away, he hoped to find you tampering with his food in a botched attempt to poison him. But still, nothing ever came of it. Until suddenly, you were the one who fell sick. His worry turned to anger as he arrived home one night to find you on the floor of the bathroom, the mixture of poison lying next to you.

“Are you insane? What were you trying to do, kill yourself? Do you think that will work, because I promise you, nothing…not even life itself will keep me from you. Don’t ever do something stupid like this again.”

Yuta feels remorse. It’s one of the few and probably only times Yuta will ever feel this way. Out of everyone, Yuta is one of the most intense and dangerous yandere’s, but he still loves you in his own twisted way. He likes to push your buttons and torture you a little but he’d never kill you…probably. For Yuta, part of the fun is seeing how badly you want to live, how badly you want for him to release you and return to your old life. When he arrives home to find you on the floor, a dark crimson pool of blood surrounding you he panics, all the color draining from his face as he sees your barely conscious body. He’ll clean you up, bandaging your wounds, he’ll monitor you for a few days wondering if he should take you to a hospital. In those few days as he waits to see if your condition worsens he’ll be super gentle, much more gentle with you than he’s ever been. His hands will run over all the old scarred skin where he’s cut you in different places before, a deep pang in his chest screaming at him for doing that to you. He’ll be soft with you, but he can’t help but still poke fun at you in an attempt to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, couldn’t you wait for me? At least I know when to stop, clearly you’re still an amateur…You could’ve really hurt yourself. What would I do then, huh?”

Doyoung is angry. At you, but mostly himself. He likes to believe that he knows you better than you know yourself. To come home and find you in the middle of attempting to harm yourself he will realize just how little he truly knows about you and your condition. Initially the only emotion he can really process is anger, the thought of coming home a second too late and losing you enraged him. Even while angry, he was solid as rock, never giving you much of a clue about what he was thinking. He will carefully nurse you back to health, never leaving your side not even for a second. Once you begin to recover he will experience heartbreak and grief over what could’ve happened. Doyoung won’t address the incident much and will from then on refer to it as the ‘incident’ he wants to pretend that it never happened. He’s a stubborn man and his behavior towards you might not change much, if anything he gives you less freedom, afraid to let you leave his side.

“Never do that again. Hate me. Hate me all you want to, but never do that again. Please.”

Jungwoo is distraught after finding you in such a state. He’s in disbelief and this is a rare occasion in which he is truly afraid. Afraid of what could’ve happened to you and what might happen again in the future if he’s not careful. It flips a switch in him and forces him to realize something that he cannot shake. That he might not just need to protect you from the world but from your own self too. He becomes distrustful of you, scared and afraid that you might try to hurt yourself again. There’s no amount of convincing or promises in the world that will put his mind at ease. This fear will drive him to act irrationally, he’s not above strapping you to a bed all day while he’s gone if it means keeping you safe. In his mind you forced him to take these measures to keep you safe.

“You know why I have to keep you locked up like this don’t you baby? I can’t risk you doing something like that again, what would I do without you?”

Mark is shocked. He never expected it, he doesn’t necessarily make your mental health a priority for him. He knows you probably hate him and that you’d do nearly anything to get away from him. He just never thought unaliving yourself would be on the table for you. In fact, he probably expected you to try and kill him before you ever tried to hurt yourself. He will feel shameful and for the first time a little guilty about taking you. I don’t see him ever letting you go but he might be willing to talk and see what changes can be made to make you more ‘comfortable’ in your new life.

“Don’t punish yourself for the decision I made. If you wanted to kill someone it should’ve been me. Not you, never you.”

Haechan’s response might come off as cold and heartless. That’s only half true. Initially he might try and make himself believe that it wasn’t you who did it to yourself but that an intruder broke in and attacked you. When he realizes what you tried to do he knows that nothing he will say will comfort you or inspire you to never do it again. You hate him, so much that you’d rather die than be stuck with him another second. What could he possibly say to change your mind? His approach is a little brazen and risky but he wants to test your will to live. How badly did you truly want to be free of him? He used the only thing he knows for sure works in keeping you in check. Fear. Your fear of him and what he might do.

“What? It’s okay for you to go around taking lives but I can’t?” He asks with a quizzical expression as he holds a knife to your former friend’s throat, his icy eyes piercing into yours.

[withonly-sweetheart]

Back to the Sea

The mysterious stranger on the boat happens to be your roommate and you can't help but wonder who he is. Something about him captivates you, but what happens when an artist loses his brush?

a/n: so... this is all @chesue00's fault. dont get me wrong ilysm pookie but i cannot tell you how much this was going through my head the entire day like i wanted to get home so badly and write this i almost told my teach to fuck off... but thank u ur so talented it hurts like that inspired me sm and thats what art should do! ty! <333

tw: angst?? bc its not my fic unless its got angst (hopefully...) uhm mentions of like illnesses and the flu and stuff but idk help

wc: 5.2k - yes im not even kidding i wrote this all tdy and its not even grammar checked will do that later hehehehehe <333

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the vast expanse of the ocean, you sit at the edge of the ship, gaze fixed on the endless waves stretching out before her. The gentle sway of the ship beneath you, the salty sea air mingling with the haunting cries of the seagulls soaring overhead; it all served as a reminder of sorrow and loss that clings to you like a heavy shroud.

You take it between your fingers, as if you can feel the harsh, unforgiving ivory material form under your hand, and wrap it around yourself tighter, cherishing the small bursts of warmth you get from sitting up here.

Each wave that laps against the side of the ship fails to cover the whispers of the crowd steadily disappearing around you, pointing fingers shamelessly, wondering why a girl your age is sitting, all alone, staring wistfully out at the cerulean abyss.

Someone clears their throat behind you. The last thing you want is to be bothered, so you twist over your shoulder to dismiss them, but somewhere up your throat, the words clump together into a soft gasp.

You have seen him around the ship, when you were first boarding, but you didn’t get the best look at him. Now that you do, you know one thing as true as the sky is blue.

He’s breathtaking. His eyes, reflecting the azure of the ocean, flash with lightning quick irritation, as if your presence inconveniences him. The curve of his lips set in a straight line, tightening almost imperceptibly, jaw clenching ever so slightly.

If you weren’t looking so hard, you could’ve missed it all. 

But how could you miss anything he does, when each ripple of his feature is like a brushstroke? An artist’s slow, deliberate intentions, painting the man in front of you.

“You are taking up the seat,” he mumbles, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. “Apologies,” you respond, shifting to make room for him. The dip between his eyebrows deepens and you find yourself frowning back. “Is something wrong?”

His gaze clouds, turning a muffled shade of gray. “No.”

You hum in response before turning back to the ocean. The heavy silence writhes between them, its unseen grip tightening with each breath. Your mind churns, sensing dark depths his haunted eyes warn away.

So you stand and stroll away, not sparing a glance at the brooding figure. You don’t wish to descend into his sorrow. You have enough of your own, and the tension crackling between you is nearly tangible. 

You know well that behind every handsome man, there is a troubled mind.

And the windows to those thoughts are the eyes.

<><><><>

“If the brothe bee to sweete, put in the more wine, or els a litle vineger.” 

You recall this line from a cookbook your mother once owned as you stare down at the barely distinguishable liquid in a bowl in front of you. Chips of wood flake off and dissolve into the mess of what you think are minced vegetables pooling at the bottom. Though the bubbles of oil faintly remind you of home, nothing else is the same.

You can’t remember the last time you had traditional soup, from the homeland, where everyone's the same as you and food is plentiful, rich in the scent of tangy spices and fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, where the forest birds sing sweet melodies in your ear.

But you are no longer there. It will, as all things do, fade with time, resolving as just a landscape drawn in your head, reduced to nothing but scribbles.

With a sigh far too troubled for your age, you gingerly push the bowl away, careful not to slosh any of it over the edge. You know you are being picky; food is food, and starvation will slowly creep up on you when you least expect it.

But it is better to starve than throw yourself from the starboard, letting the choppy waves consume you. Hunger takes time, crescendoing pain and ache until you cannot bear it. Suffering will suffice, at this moment.

And across the dining hall, the small room housing yet a few late night eaters, you spot him saunter in. Long, black trench coat brushing his ankles, a hat you did not see that now casts shadows upon his chiseled face.

His overalls strain with effort and crumple into wrinkles as he sits a few tables away, raising a hand, wordlessly summoning a bowl of soup that carries from tentative hands. He waves the aged woman away, and perhaps he does not catch the longing look in her eyes.

She has not seen a man so divine in years. Her time at sea has clouded her judgment. This is yet another reason why you must traverse the ocean blue, to prevent the jobs piling up at what you thought was your home, near the port, where the docks carry back the ashes of your family.

You used to love the ocean, the beach, the shores. When the sea hurt you, your father would kiss the tears away, murmuring soft assurance in the shell of your small ear. Although she was nearly a decade older, your sister would never decline an offer of yours to hunt for the little creatures that popped up from the swirling sand, watching them disappear underneath your slow hands.

You miss them. Influenza never failed to take, take, take; the greedy fingers latched on to your family before you could arrive home that day to sick corpses so pale you could not recognize them.

The doctor had suggested a traditional burial,but you knew there was one more thing the sea needed. You lit the pyres, watched their souls mingle with the smoke that gasped for the clouds, and waited.

When all that was left of your loved ones was charred, ivory dust that seemed to sparkle back at you, unaware of its fate, you gathered it into a pot that your grandmother gifted you.

The ocean rejected your offering, at first. It veered away, pulling water from the shore lines, but you stood fast. And it came back, gathered what was already gone, and took it away from you.

The sea never fails to remind you of what you’ve lost.

But here, on the ship, a marvel of engineering, keeping you afloat, you are not truly with the sea. You will not make yourself mold to the pitiful, lonely girl everyone expects you to be. 

With that resolve, you cradle the soup back to your chest, staring it down with defiant eyes. The ocean will not have another victim, you will make sure of that.

It burns your throat all the way down, saltier than the sea. Bile raises to combat it but you force spoon after spoon into your stomach. All that remains from your battle is the wood, which you tried your best to separate from the soup, but you are sure that you definitely swallowed at least some of it.

As the thinnest definition of dinner warms your insides against the cold that threatens to seep in, your eyes find him across the galley. He sits alone, as always, nursing a tin cup and gazing into its contents as if answers lay within.

You recall your chance encounter in the night, the rare moments of grace amid tumult never far from his eyes. Though he often keeps away from the streams of people, you have the feeling it has less to do with aloofness than wounds not easily unveiled.

As if finally sensing your gaze, his eyes lift and meet yours across the dusty space. There seems to be no cracks in his steely expression, his stormcloud eyes, but there is a flicker of emotion - curiosity, or perhaps kinship's first stirrings. 

You offer the barest nod before returning focus to your meager meal. Yet all the while, currents stronger than the sea pull at your thoughts, drawing them ever back towards that quiet figure and mysteries that beg to be revealed. You tilt your head to the side, rubbing fingers down your neck, feeling your pulse race underneath your skin. Massaging the area, you force yourself to relax.

You force yourself to believe that those eyes haven’t jarred your thoughts.

<><><><>

“I must… have the wrong room.” Those same eyes stare back at you, hands trembling slightly around parchment yellowing at the edges, swirling with confusion. “I apologize.”

“It wouldn’t, by chance, be 930, would it?” you ask. 

“Er… yes,” he admits with a dip of his head, looking almost embarrassed by the situation. “I suppose I’ll go request another-”

“It’s quite alright,” you race to say before you can stop yourself. “I do not mind.”

A small corner of his mouth lifts, if only for a second, and when his expression goes back to being neutral, you find yourself wanting to coax more emotions from him. 

You help him get settled in, telling him he could take the bed on the right. When he’s finished fussing with the sheets, you sit on your respective mattresses, awkwardly staring down at your hands.

"I... thank you," he finally replies, his voice soft. "I did not expect to find understanding here."

“Your name, sir?”

“Leon. Your name, I already know.”

“How fascinating.”

“You are a… popular subject of gossip upon this vessel.”

“Why are you traveling to England?” you ask, finding yourself making small talk to switch the topic. “Are you simply traveling?”

“Yes.” 

“Where is your hometown?” His eyes glaze over with the familiar homesickness you can recognize.

"My home lies in a small village far from here," he replies, gazing into memories only he could see. "A quiet place, surrounded by green countryside and simple folks." His eyes find yours with rare openness. "And you? What brings one so young to cross the sea alone?"

“I’m paying my lovely aunt a visit,” you say vaguely, trying to make your voice light. But he must hear the undertones of it, because he cocks his head to the side, arching a golden eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he muses. “I hope you enjoy your trip.”

“I’ve noticed you carry that briefcase around quite a bit,” you say, quickly changing the subject. “Is it dear to you?”

He laughs, a warm, rich tone that sparks something in your heart. 

Maybe… just… maybe?

“Not so,” he explains. He leans over to grab the case resting on the nightstand and clicks it open. “This is the reason I am traveling, you see.”

You peer over the top of the rusty case to reveal… pencils?

“You are… an artist?” you ask, slightly confused. You hadn’t taken him for a participant of the fine arts, but at your query, his eyes seem to light with an inspiration not previously there.

“I have lost my flame,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if placing his words carefully. “I thought England would fix… the problem… but perhaps… you could help me?” At your face, he bites his lip. "A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor, as they say."

“Who has ever said that, and who am I to decline a stranger in need?” You chuckle, and his grin seems to usurp his entire expression. 

“You need not do anything,” he rushes to say, hands flurrying to unpack the materials carefully stowed away in the briefcase. The determined, set look on his face is enough to convince you, and even if it hadn’t, realistically, would you be able to say no?

He stills suddenly, observing you, sweeping over you, drinking in everything, as if to absorb your being. When his gaze meets yours, he smiles and it truly reaches his previously emotionless eyes.

“You are… perfect,” he whispers. He holds his pencil up, bottom lip disappearing as he frowns, grumbling in frustration. “But this lighting is… not quite correct.”

Leon eyes the room, then stands suddenly. You watch him, watch him drag a chair from the small writing desk over to the foot of his bed, planting it firmly. He points a finger to the empty space, gesturing for you to sit there.

“What exactly are you planning?” You ask with a smile.

The one he returns matches your curiosity. “We shall see.”

And that is exactly how, a few minutes later, you sit with your legs crossed, hands folded over one another in your lap, with a soft smile decorating your face.

“You must stay still,” he chastises, gazing at you with a languid look in his eyes, voice dreamy, as if he sees something in you that you can’t.

“You have not yet answered my question.” You ignore the red blooming up your neck at his fluttering gaze. He lounges further into the bed, hiding more of himself away, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

He looks almost thoughtful as he scribbles away, muttering to himself, lost in a trance. You lean against the dresser, resting your body weight on it, feeling yourself relax.

His eyes move back to you, and he jolts, like something drastic has changed. His hands fly rapidly across the paper, gaze locked onto you. He smudges something with his finger, erases something here and there, and eventually, he huffs a sigh and leans back, looking somewhat satisfied with the paper.

Intrigued, you stand from your position, stretching your stiff joints. “May I see?”

Leon snorts a laugh. “Of course not.”

“It is my portrait, no?” You grin. “Show me.” Without another word, you lean over the foot of the bed, over the elaborate carvings of wood, and try to sneak a peek at the paper.

He lets out what you can only describe as a boyish squeal, and yanks the pad away from you, clutching it to his chest. “I said no!”

Leon tries his best to play-keep away from your hands, folding the paper carefully in half as he stuffs it into an inner pocket of his shirt. When you try to reach for it, instinctively, he flushes a red hue that matches the crimson of your bedsheets.

“Apologies,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he whispers back.

The air has gone back to tense, anguish, as if you are both hurtling towards something you cannot stop, racing towards a finish line in a race you do not wish to compete in. When he climbs into bed, wordlessly, you wonder what you did to deserve this torture, to have a masterpiece sleeping a few feet away. 

He purses his lips and blows out the flame in the lantern standing proud on your nightstand, murmuring a quick goodbye.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of light, you watch the blanket blow out around him, creeping over his body, hugging him tightly. His snores come quickly, gentle and quiet, not bothersome.

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing for the relief of sleep to come as fast as his.

<><><><>

Strangely enough, someone rouses you from your sleep, something you didn’t expect. Breakfast calls were a luxury reserved for those with money, but you weren’t going to complain. Missing the first meal of the day had serious consequences in your household.

This isn’t your household, though. These aren’t your rules.

And that definitely isn’t a handkeep’s fingers clutched around your arm.

“Leon?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes, savoring the fuzzy corners before every comes into focus with sudden clarity. He stands beside your bed, gaze darting here and there. 

“Oh… you are awake,” he says as he isn’t the reason it is so.

“You woke me,” you state blankly, blinking up at him.

“I suppose… well,” he mutters, then sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that.”

“How often does this happen?” you ask quietly, sitting up. “Are you plagued by night horrors?”

“I am not a child!” he snaps, then immediately softens, regret pooling in his eyes. “It is just… I thought you had left…”

“Yet I am here, no?” you say, slightly bemused. The tips of Leon’s ears turn a salmon pink as he lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. 

“I see that,” he says with a small smile, sitting beside you, leaving enough space to respect your privacy. You return one with just as much carefully measured emotion, not wanting to scare him away, wanting him to open up.

As gray dawn spreads its thin wings slowly over calm waters, he recollects himself. He tells you fragments of his past, picking up pieces of his past until it fits into a puzzle perfectly. An orphan, talent stripped from him by the urge to survive.

You faintly think that he should also be a writer, because the way he tells his story is akin to the way an author paints a scene with just words. You can see his parents in the shadows, echoing in his laugh, in the slant of his nose, the pucker of his chin. 

He shrugs, twisting to face you. “I almost died, there, on the streets.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes meet yours, “So am I.”

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but feel inclined to share what truly happened to you as well.

“I’m not… just visiting my aunt.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “I was thinking as much. Tell me, what is the true purpose of your visit.”

“My family recently passed from influenza. Only sorrow trails me in the States. Perhaps returning to my hometown will provide… solace?” You offer a dry laugh, but Leon’s expression goes stony as he takes your hands into his.

“I… did not know,” he says, sounding as sincere as you’ve ever heard him. “I made such a joke without understanding the full context… I apologize.”

“It is really nothing,” you rush to assure him, but more so because the crestfallen look on his face is something you do not wish to bring upon. “I forgive you.”

“You are still tired,” he says with another sigh. “I will wake you for breakfast. Sleep.”

He’s right. Too sleepy to protest, you clutch the blankets around you and shut out not only the slowly growing beams of sunlight from the window, but also the relief that emanates from Leon’s very being, flooding over you, bringing you the peace that lets you drift off.

<><><><>

You wake to frigid air seeping through cracks in the ship's walls, clouds hiding the sun’s bright smile. Throwing off your thin blankets, you grasp the warmth, hoping it still lingers. But your hand meets only cold, empty fabric. 

Panic rises in my throat as you rush from the sleeping quarters. Out on the icy deck, figures hustle to and fro under a pale, stormy sky. Your eyes scan for one in particular, relief flooding through you as you spot his lean form near the rail, gaze lost to the sea. 

"Leon," you call softly so as not to wake the other sleeping passengers. When he turns, worry is etched into his brows. You brush it off with a shaky smile. "I had feared the night's dangers had claimed you at last." 

“At last?” His lips turn up in return, reassuring you with his movement. But you can see the shadow neither of you could outrun, not with Death stalking your decks in his grim dance. 

Drawing near, you trace his stare to the horizon, limitless and cold. You stand in front of him as he lingers behind, hesitating, arms outstretched. 

“I wish to fly, one day,” you say jokingly. “But I suppose for now, swimming will do.”

“I cannot swim,” he admits quietly. “I never will.”

“Of course you can,” you insist. “Anyone can-”

“Not everyone has lost their brother to the sea.”

 The answer burns, searing your back in the way he delivers it, venom in his voice. But eventually, he sighs, as if giving in, and you can feel him get closer.

“May I?” You admire that he asks before anything, and when you nod, he wraps his arms around your waist, pushing you gently against the railing that you clutch tightly. He rests his head on your shoulder, craning his neck to stand comfortably.

Then he speaks again. “My deepest apologies. As you can tell… I miss him.”

"Then we'll face such fears together," you say with such finality you believe it yourself. "None are meant to wander depths of sadness all alone. But your brother's memory lives on you - a gift more precious than any sea could claim. I know this. And what are you doing now?”

Slowly, you can feel his lips curl upwards against your neck, sparking at your words, growing into that smile you’ve come to cherish. 

“You wish to fly? This is as close as I can get you, beloved.”

With a grin of your own spreading across your face, you outstretch your arms, leaning into the wind, wanting to let it carry you both away. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his beating pulse that lives on despite all the world has tried to steal away.

You don’t know what overtakes you, the immense feeling of admiration you feel for him, that might be what spurs you to lean in. And, much to your surprise and pleasure, as soft morning light limns sea and sky in a hopeful blend of blue, your lips meet in a kiss - brief, chaste, yet speaking everything you need to hear. 

“At least I’ll have you,” he says, melting back into your embrace, tightening his arms around your hips. “One thing the sea will never take.”

But you should’ve known.

The waters are never done taking.

<><><><>

You do not know when the screams started. All you know is that they came with the rough tides, crashing against the boat, with the crackle of thunder and smoke hissing in the air. Everyone rushes to cram into the sleeping quarters, but living near the port all your life, you know better. You know exactly what is happening.

The boat is sinking.

And strangely enough, your first thought is to find Leon. He had asked you to wait a quiet moment on the deck, and you had both dismissed the rolling clouds, steadily creeping towards you while he disappeared below the deck.

You had been hoping that he would show you his art. Now you hope that you can get him out in time. But before you can scrunch up your dress and scramble into the quarters, someone grabs your arm.

You do not see the face. You know it is not Leon, he is infinitely calmer and more gentle than the rough fingers of whoever your captor is. As you struggle to look up at the face, you are tossed into a boat that hangs on the side of the ship.

“Women and children first!” a gruff voice calls out, presumably the one that just manhandled you. You try to protest, saying you need to go back, but the small boat fills up quicker than you expect, and eventually you are being slowly lowered down onto the choppy waves.

You stand on tiptoe, trying to make out any sign of Leon on the ship, hoping he makes it out okay. The people rowing the boat harshly yank you down before pushing away from the boat. Every stroke they make takes you farther and farther away, until the dense fog shrouds the entire ship from your view.

And the unexpected happens. You hear a loud crack and the boat immediately splinters into two. The women and their children huddle to one side, the bigger side, while you and some other girls stay put, eyes fixed on where you last saw the ship.

With no one to steer, you veer back towards it and it comes into view, only this time, it is on fire. Flames lick the sides, hissing where it meets the salty sea, climbing up the ship. And you see the mess of blond hair that you so desperately recognize.

“Leon!” You shout, screaming for his attention. His eyes snap to your general direction, scanning the area with a wide, panicked expression before landing on you. Almost immediately his face softens before it returns to its stony, default look.

You are confused for a moment before he quickly surveys the area. A raft hangs from the side, unused, calling his name, and you realize with shame that your boat is starting to sink, dipping into the water.

You and the other girls lean to the other side, pleading for help. Summoning all fading strength, you yell his name once more as waves close over your head. Darkness swallows your cries, drowning them in the murky ocean depths, yet in your fleeting consciousness, your trust for him remains like the anchor you wish him to be.

Breathless, gasping, you break the surface amid a sea of shrieks and sinking debris. There through the smoke a ragged shape appears, slicing swift as any bird towards you. Strong hands grasp and haul you aboard the makeshift raft, lying there to cling and spend your remaining prayers in thanks to Leon as he attends each soul amid the roiling deep, ferrying them from the ocean’s inky grasp with steady hands and calmer gaze.

“Are you alright, dear?” he calls to you after the third and final girl is pulled to safety, gasping for breath. “I did not expect this situation whatsoever.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, spitting the remnants of the salt in your throat back into the sea, like returning a gift. “I suppose we will be alright now.”

Leon’s face crumples. “I’m afraid not.”

You groan. “What is it now? Is it the sharks from the depths? I will fight them with my bare hands, just you watch!”

You watch his expression flash through amusement, then back to pain. “We… I…”

“What troubles you so?”

He gestures a hand to the sea around you, to the drenched figures, far too many for the raft to carry. You realize this with the drop of your heart.

“There are too many of us,” he says apologetically, like he’s only hurting you. “One of us must leave.” 

For a second, you consider pushing one of the girls off. Anything to keep him. But you realize that your selfish thoughts should not take control. You grab his hands, clutching them tightly, holding them to your chest.

“Then it shall be me.”

Leon offers a weak smile. “No.”

“No?” you sputter. “What- it was not a question!”

“It will not be the answer either, my love,” he says gently, prying his hands from yours. “I will be the last. Please make sure of that.”

And before you can plead for him to stay, his weight shifts and you can feel the raft rising again. He casts one more, sorrowful look at you before he glides into the water, descending effortlessly. You reach for him, and your fingers brush his knuckles before he disappears forever.

Before he is gone. 

Yet another loved one.

Lost to the sea.

<><><><>

You wait for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for the news to arrive one day at your aunt’s doorstep, that he is still alive, awaiting your arrival in some uncharted region. But no such idea comes. And eventually, the denial washes away and you are left with the loss that nothing can fix.

You rock in the chair of your living room, the smell of your aunt’s soup no longer bringing saliva to your mouth, but tears to your eyes, because now everything reminds you of Leon.

The bell rings outside and you can’t bring yourself to rise and answer the door with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Your aunt knows this, so without sparing you another look, allowing you your privacy, opens the door just a smidge.

She makes conversation with the person standing outside before turning back to you with a soft smile. She hands you an envelope, and you cannot lie when your heart races up to the sky, finding purchase in the fluffy clouds.

You cannot find the words to thank her, but she knows this as well, and walks away without another word. When she disappears behind the kitchen corner, you rush to open the letter.

The first words send your heart plummeting back to where it was, perhaps even crashing through the layer of obsidian and burrowing itself in a place where it will never return. But upon scanning the rest of the thoughtful, heartfelt message, there is a tug that forces you to check the rest of the envelope.

And when you unfurl a piece of paper, long since forgotten in your brain, you muffle a cry with the back of your hand, the parchment trembling in your five, shaky fingers.

It is the portrait Leon drew of you. It made its way back to you.

You know, after seeing this, there is one thing you must do. You lie the paper down on the round table beside you, careful to preserve it.

You wash up, put on a dress your aunt lent to you, a blue, rippling thing that seems to reflect the ocean waves back at you. You tie your hair up, wanting to look somewhat presentable. 

And you call out a goodbye to your aunt, who’s smile you can hear in her voice, evident as she waves from the kitchen, ecstatic to see you out and about. But there is only one place you must go. One thing you must do to find the closure you are aching for.

Back to where it all started.

<><><><>

Tears that are the crystals of salt found in the ocean's depths stream down your face, as unnatural as the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, where one stops, another begins.

In the ocean, you slip from your skin, thoughts descending down a mad spiral, the spirits watching as you mingle with the essence of saltwater stinging your sunburned skin. The night air does little to nothing to cool your thoughts.

Is he there? In the droplets that cradle the back of your hands, trickling from the pool cupped in your palms. You can see him standing, just a few feet away, knee deep in the water, as constant as the waves and as calm as the tides.

Leon’s hair waves in the moonlight, a silent greeting to you, cerulean bathing his face in a ghastly blue, making him seem more and more like the ghost he is.

You raise a hand, out of instinct, choking back a sob. 

A smile curves those salty, timeless lips.

“You left me too,” you whisper through tears, crystals disappearing under the crescents of water brushing against your shorts. “Why can life not just be… easy? Simple?”

Leon chuckles, face softening in sympathy. “Did you forget what I told you already?”

You lift your head, rubbing granules of sand against your nose to muffle your sniffling. “What?” His grin is somehow both brighter than the moon and darker than the water you can’t see through.

“A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.”

[eph3merall]

18+ content, smut, stalker!matt

☆ . . . matt knew it was wrong. gaining your trust was just so easy, though, he couldn't help himself. really. you were sweet and naïve, and how could he not take advantage of that when you were just the prettiest thing ever as well?

it's why he finds his tongue prodding his cheek as a big ringed hand slides one of your drawers open to reveal the pretty laid out panties. cute pastels, neutrals, some flashy, lace reds as well. he's biting down on his tongue to stop the groan suddenly clawing up his throat.

matt wasn't in a rush, no. he'd driven you to a party earlier with your girlfriends, albeit a little reluctant since there would be guys there. worse comes to worse, he can track your phone anyways.

sliding the black backpack off his shoulders and letting it drop to your carpeted floor, he unzips a smaller pocket to fumble for the pairs of panties he bought a few days back. two pink and white pairs in the exact brand and style, because he couldn't have you finding out what he was doing, right? that'd be such a shame.

sure, it's freaky and creepy and some people would call him psychotic.

swapping out the neatly lines up pairs in your drawer with the ones he bought just a few days ago, he stashes them in the pocket of his backpack—not before bringing a pair up to his face to sniff them though.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip to stifle the groan building up, even though he's alone in your room. taking a few steps towards your bed, matt sits himself onto the edge of it.

soon enough though, his cock is straining hard against his boxers and sweatpants just from the smell of your sheets and pillows. once his junk is free, a tortured groan leaves his lips once he's starting to pump at it—pre cum already leaking from his slit.

he can't help his free hand reaching for a pair of your panties, pressing them up to his face to sniff at them. his hand works in fruition for the release he's suddenly craving so badly.

god, he's crazy.

yeah, it's wrong and all but fuck matt feels so good. without a second thought in his head he's bringing your panties down to shoot his load into the crotch area of the fabric. chest heaving and tongue swiping over now dry lips, he's sighing heavily.

blue eyes come into focus some more, and he's quick to clean his hand up. washing them and making sure he didn't get any of his cum on your carpeted floors or his own clothes—then stuffing the messy scrap of fabric back into a pocket of his backpack.

slinging both straps over his shoulders, his hood finds placement back on the mess of brunette curls on his head. he's leaning over your bed to fix it—replicating the wrinkles and messy corners. fluffing up your pillows and making sure everything is in place and all perfect.

even if you wouldn't notice, he shouldn't risk it. after how far matt's come? yeah, no. blue eyes take a sweep over your room to make sure nothing is in the wrong place or order, nodding to himself and running a hand through his hair as he slips out of your room.

walking to his car he parked in your driveway, he slides his phone from his pocket once he's in the drivers seat of his car. he just couldn't help but scroll through the album of photos he had saved of you, a slow smile spreading on his face with each scroll. you were so pretty, it made him sick. and also a little hard again.

starting his car out of your driveway, matt pulls up your number.

"hey. y'ready for me to come pick you up yet or nah?"

fun fact. this wasnt gonna be the og writing, draft ended up not saving the first time and i was SO mad. bc the first draft (in my own opinion bc no one else has read it) was so good and UGH am i horribly upset it didnt save. this vers is a lil shorter i remember but hopefully its enjoyable!! after that vers not saving i wanted to give up on writing this but.

stalker!matt prompt/idea (?) lowkey from @sturnioz (pretty girl please lmk if you dont want me tagging you <33)!!! sort of? maybe??? idk. its 3 am im really tired :/

do we fw stalker!matt bcs im thinking of writing him a fic lols.

not proofread as always... i wrote this while listening to faye webster, mac demarco, n the smiths n idk how to feel about that bc this was filthy

—

©eph3merall 2024

[xomakara]

Elevator

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You and Wooyoung are stuck in the elevator with nothing to do but talk. But when you are awfully aware of how close he is, you can’t help but act on your urges.

PAIRING | Wooyoung/Reader

GENRE | non-idol!Wooyoung, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, oral, vaginal sex, elevator sex

RATING | Mature

LENGTH | 2593 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE | On the shorter side but still smutty~

"Nononono. This can't be happening." You ran a hand through your hair, sliding down the walls of the elevator as it stopped moving. The lights were out and you could barely make out the figure of the man who stood next to you.

Of all days to get a power outage!

"Freaking out like that isn't going to make things better." The man muttered, his voice low and calm. "Breathe deep. Count to ten. Do something productive. Shit. I forgot what to do when things go bad."

He added, not sounding at all sincere.

You didn't need him to tell you to breathe; you'd been doing so since the lights went out in the first place. Your heart was pounding and the sweat on your palms made them slippery. The whole situation was just freaking bizarre and the adrenaline pumping through your body wasn't helping either.

You knew you had a bad feeling when you woke up this morning as you struggled to get out of bed. All your work clothes were in the laundry hamper, a lightbulb went out in your bathroom while you showered, you ran out of coffee and there was nothing left to eat for breakfast besides half an apple that had turned brown overnight.

On top of all that, the bathroom mirror showed that the faint lines around your eyes were more pronounced than usual.

And now you're stuck in the company's elevator with that very attractive employee in your department, one who is probably pissed off that he can't find anything to do while trapped here too.

"I knew I should have called in today." You muttered, burying your face in your hands. "This day couldn't possibly get any worse."

"How worse could it be?" The man asked, looking slightly annoyed but also amused by the sight of you bawling your eyes out on the elevator floor. He took a few steps forward before stopping again, taking another deep breath. "It's just a power outage after all. It happens every now and then."

"True enough." You agreed, raising your head to look up at him. "I just can't believe I'm stuck here with you."

"What's wrong with being stuck in an elevator with me?" He laughed.

"Not funny, Wooyoung." You frowned. "God, I can already hear all the other ladies in our department talking shit about me. Why do I always get myself into these situations? Like I haven't got enough problems as it is."

"I mean there's one way we can deter the shit talking." He smirked, gesturing at himself suggestively.

You groaned and shook your head. You really needed to get out of here soon or else your colleague was going to try to make a move on you and then you'll be really fucked. Not that you weren't interested in the idea, but you've heard some horror stories from friends who hooked up with co-workers and most of them ended badly.

You glanced around nervously, wondering how long the power outage would last and how long you'd be stuck in this elevator. You wondered if they'd think of any contingency plan if they realized how much time had passed since the lights went out. Maybe they'd sent maintenance to fix it? Hopefully someone will come soon.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, sinking to the floor next to you. His legs crossed and his arms resting casually on his knees. "Having second thoughts about making a move on me?"

"I am not trying to make a move on you, no matter how attractive you may be." You mumbled. "Are you really sure you want to know what I'm thinking?"

"I have been told I have good hearing." He grinned, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "Go ahead and tell me. Whatever it is, I won't judge you."

"Just being in this elevator is making my anxiety go up the wazoo." You sighed, sitting back against the wall.

"That's why I'm trying to distract you." He said with a shrug. "So, you really want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I've just had such a bad day." You sighed. "I struggled to get out of bed this morning. All my work clothes were in the hamper, the light bulbs went out during my shower, I didn't have any breakfast except for a stupid apple that turned brown and I ran out of coffee this morning. Everything seemed to conspire against me this morning and..."

You took a deep breath and stared down at your feet, knowing that if you looked at him, you might let yourself get carried away. Wooyoung squeezed your hands gently.

"This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. I've always got my shit together, but today, everything seems to fall apart. One after the other." You muttered.

"Y/N, don't feel embarrassed about having bad days. Everyone has them." He murmured. "Sometimes life can be cruel and unjust, leaving us to struggle with burdens we never thought we could carry alone. It happens to the best of us."

"Maybe." You sighed. "But sometimes you wish that sometimes those bad days wouldn't happen at all."

"Well, we can't always get what we want, right?" He smiled gently. "But if we accept reality as it is, rather than as we wish it to be, perhaps we'll feel better and cope better with whatever life throws at us."

"Who are you and what have you done to the cocky Wooyoung I work with?" You let out an amused sigh. "Is it possible to see two sides of a person at once? Because I definitely saw a different side of you today. Thank you for being nice to me."

"Oh come on, it's nothing special." He waved his hand dismissively. "But I'd like a kiss as payment for comforting you. That's if...you want to."

You looked at him, eyes taking in his handsome face. His messy hair, slightly tousled from always running his hands through them. Those eyes that made you weak in the knees. The lips that were dangerously close to yours.

"Do you want to kiss me?" He asked quietly, tilting his head to the side.

There was a moment where neither of you moved, staring deeply into each other's eyes until finally Wooyoung leaned closer and pressed his lips against yours softly.

The soft kiss surprised you, making you pull away slightly. But Wooyoung didn't seem fazed by it and instead he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You returned the kiss, brushing your lips against his before pressing your mouth more firmly against his.

Your lips parted slightly as he continued to press kisses to your lips, opening wider as his tongue slid along the seam of your mouth, exploring every corner until finally parting to allow him entrance. He tasted faintly of coffee, which made you wonder if he drank a cup before he came down here, but his taste was still pleasantly sweet.

"You know I could care less about what our coworkers would say about us." He muttered against your lips. "I only have eyes for you."

His words, along with his closeness and the scent of his cologne filled your senses and slowly your breathing became deeper, almost as though your lungs were expanding and pushing the air inside even further. The electricity flowing between you caused goosebumps to rise on your skin, spreading all over your body as his hands tightened their grip around your waist.

As much as you wanted to deny it, his lips and his touch were sending sparks of pleasure shooting across your skin and a warm sensation rushed to your core.

"Wooyoung..." You moaned, closing your eyes tightly. You felt his lips graze your jawline, before moving lower to nip at your earlobe. A shiver ran down your spine and your knees began to weaken, causing you to lean back against the wall behind you.

"Y/N..." He whispered, nibbling at your neck before he began to suckle your earlobe. "Do you want me to stop?"

The question caught you completely off guard and you opened your eyes to stare into his. In the dim lighting of the elevator, your pupils were drawn into his dark eyes, which seemed to have gone darker, taking on a darker shade.

"No." You breathed, leaning in to press your lips against his.

And Wooyoung seemed equally affected by your kiss. Before you could blink, his hands reached up and grabbed the sides of your face, pulling you towards him so that your lips met once more.

With every kiss, the intensity grew and soon you were lost in the sensations coursing through your body. When he pulled away slightly to give you a chance to catch your breath, your breath hitched and you licked your lips before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

The man in front of you was no longer the Wooyoung you usually worked with. Instead, he looked like a man who knows exactly what he wants and won't hesitate to take it.

"Don't stop." You breathed out, Wooyoung lifted you in his arms. His face darkened with desire and his breath came out in shallow pants as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes. "Please..."

He dropped to his knees, lifting your skirt and tugging your panties aside, revealing your pussy. It was slick with excitement and arousal and you felt your breath quicken. The sight of your cunt getting wetter was arousing and thrilling, as he looked up at you expectantly.

Before you could stop him, he slipped two fingers inside your pussy and began to stroke you, bringing out small whimpers of pleasure. He continued to slide his fingers in and out of you, fucking you with such skill and control.

Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, feeling weak from the pleasure he brought you and you sank back against the wall, needing something to hold onto. He didn't need to be told twice and quickly placed his hand under your knee, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, his face now buried between your thighs.

You let out a gasp when his tongue began to lap at your clit, teasing it and making it throb with pleasure. You closed your eyes and tilted your hips upwards, allowing him better access to your center. Your hips bucked erratically, driving his tongue faster, while his fingers kept pumping in and out of you.

He hummed and thrust his tongue harder against your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You started panting heavily, sucking in your bottom lip as he began to finger fuck you in earnest, fastening his pace. There was no mistaking it anymore. He was totally focused on pleasuring you, intent on giving you mind blowing orgasms.

The combination of the electric shocks from his fingers in conjunction with the vibrations from his tongue was too much to bear. Soon your hips began to buck violently, moaning and whimpering, driven mad by the pleasure that overwhelmed you.

"Fuck!"

It was unlike anything you ever experienced before. As you screamed his name, letting go of all control, all you could do was keep your orgasm coming, flooding his mouth with your juices until your body relaxed against the wall and he withdrew his tongue, licking the last traces of your cum from his lips.

"Holy fuck..." You gasped, catching your breath.

"Good?" He asked, kissing your inner thigh and working his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, but it only added to your arousal.

"So good but now..." Your knees went weak and you rested your forehead against his. "Now I need you to fuck me."

In an instant, he lifted you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The position left you open and vulnerable, as he settled himself between your legs and pushed forward, burying his cock deep inside you. You gasped as you took his length fully, enjoying the fullness of him. The feel of him filling you to capacity.

Wooyoung thrust in and out of you, setting a steady pace that made you cling onto him. With each thrust, his pelvis smacked against your clit, making you cry out.

The speed increased as you leaned back against the wall, lifting your ass higher to accommodate him. Wooyoung gripped your hips, moving them back and forth with precision, hitting just the right spot. He pressed kisses to your neck, then your ears before finding your lips again.

The combination of the feel of his hands gripping your hips and the feel of his hard cock pulsating inside you, sent ripples of pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your passion.

"Oh God...Wooyoung..." You groaned, arching your back as his tongue found its way to your earlobe.

"You feel so good. I could fuck you forever." He whispered, thrusting into you harder and harder, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "Can I fuck you forever?"

"Yes please...Yes. Yes.." You moaned, pressing your body tighter against his.

His moans were growing louder as he thrust into you faster and faster, matching your pace. With every thrust, his fingers dug into your hips, holding you tight against him. Every time you pressed back against him, he let out a long groan, then immediately buried himself inside you, fucking you harder and harder.

"Y/N... Y/N... Come for me..." He groaned against your ear.

It took every ounce of willpower not to let yourself cum, but his moans and the feel of his hard cock deep inside you drove you crazy and you knew you couldn't hold back any longer.

The muscles in your stomach clenched and a tremor coursed through your body as another orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling. Wooyoung thrust harder, gritting his teeth and growling as he came with you. The sight of him losing control and calling out your name made your heart skip a beat and make your knees buckle.

But before you could fall to the floor, he caught you in his arms and held you tightly, kissing you tenderly. You were completely spent and all you wanted was to collapse into his arms.

"I got you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

As soon as Wooyoung placed you on your feet, the power kicked back on and the elevator started moving again. The both of you let out a laugh as you fixed your clothes, making sure that nothing had fallen out of place.

"Wooyoung?" You turned to look at him, smiling at him. "Thank you."

He grasped your hand, linking your fingers together as you walked towards the doors. "Anytime."

As the elevator door opened, he let go of your hand, placing his hands on the doors and holding them open for you. He watched as you exited the elevator, giving you one last smile before he followed you.

When you got to your desk and Wooyoung to his, you were both silent, content in the fact that you had each other and no one else knew what had happened between the two of you. And when you turned to look at your phone, you saw a text from him asking if you wanted to get dinner later.

Your heart skipped a beat as your face lit up with a wide smile. The night was still young and there was plenty of time for you and Wooyoung to enjoy it together.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

My memory is terrible so I wanted to do a breakdown of my stuff every once in a while. Might be monthly, might be whenever I feel like it. And also. Spoilers and opinions below, read at your own risk.

QL - Currently Watching

🇯🇵I Hear the Sunspot [1/12] - I'm so grateful that I get a new jbl just as I'm mourning the end of the last one. I didn't read this manga but I've watched the film, and I really liked it even if it felt unfinished. Hopefully with 12 episodes it means we get the full story. This was a very good first episode, I feel like we established the main relationships dynamics and got a good insight into the main characters core. Taichi is my new child.

🇹🇭 Knock Knock, Boys! [6/12] - I continue to enjoy this group. Jane turned out to be a great addition instead of what I feared, but Peak really needs to step up so I can keep rooting for him and Thanwa, cause I'm also not a huge fan of the ex coming back as an obstacle for the couple. Latte and Almond are really great together and I'm curious how Almond will deal with his feelings for Latte, when he actually realizes he's having them.

🇹🇭Love Sea [4/12] - Before anything else, I love the ocean and I love when shows get out of the city. Also I like Mut. Now. I'm not a Mame hater. I'm a 'trauma is the only way to write deep characters' hater. I'm also a 'trauma gives you an excuse to be an asshole' hater. But most of all, I'm very much a 'love will fix you' hater. So just don't give me 3 out of 3 and it's fine. Also this last episode, all the talk about money and contracts made me feel some kind of way, although it doesn't seem to bother Mut so... And as much I like having Aya on my screen, Mook is really testing that line between cute and incredibly annoying. I'm not sure how long I'm staying with this one.

🇹🇭My Love Mix-Up! [4/12] - So... this is not good. The technical aspects of this are actually bad. Considering the number of sponsors is actually kinda incredible that it's so badly put together. The sound, the lighting, the editing, overall just... not good. Now, the rest. Look I don't want to ruin anybody's fun, so I'll keep watching this one quietly, unless something outrageous happens. But for the record, and this is all I'm gonna say, they are ruining the best parts of these characters and this story, and even if I ignore that (which I can't because it's an adaptation), it's pandering and it's a lazy attempt at recapturing the magic of msp, with a worse script and recycled material. Also I cannot believe they didn't put Atom in a trashing bag.

🇹🇭 My Stand-In [1/12] - For a number of reasons I'm waiting to binge this one. I do love watching the gifs on my dash though, pretty is pretty.

🇯🇵Ossan no Pants ga Nandatte Ii Janai ka! [9/11] - It's so good. I love them all. This last episode I was close to tears in several parts but the street proposal ended me. It's definitely one of those shows that I'm grateful that I get to watch even if I can't always find the words to talk about it. These characters have my whole heart. [everyone should be watching this and the wonderful @isaksbestpillow has made that possible with her subs. Here is the post with the latest episode. ]

🇹🇭SunsetxVibes [3/12] - It's ridiculous, it's fun, it's cute. Sun is such a simp. Man basically proposed before they were even dating. And yeah the way it started was not amazing, with the lying, but these two actually communicate about their expectations and what they're feeling which is better than a lot of shows right now. And I adore the sides.

🇹🇭The Rebound [2/12] - Everyone is gay and naked. And they play a sport of some kind.

🇹🇭The Trainee [1/12] - OffGun are back! I really liked the set up for this. It's only the first episode but I really like how they are walking the line between the comedy and the seriousness of the workplace. I love a good friend group so I'm looking forward to seeing how the relationships between all the interns grow. Poon is once again playing the silly brainless child of the pack but I don't care, I adore that kid for some reason. And next week we already got Gun crying so what's not to like?

🇹🇭 Wandee Goodday [10/12] - I already talked about my feelings regarding the last episode. I'm here for Oyei/Cher and Plakao. I love Inn and Great, they deliver with the chemistry but the DeeYak storyline is just a mess for me right now. I am also not looking forward to the inevitable redemption of the terrible parental figure.

🇹🇭 We Are [13/16] - The friendships are still great and mainly why I'm watching. I have a really good time watching those scenes. Only 3 episodes left and ChainPun continue to be the tinniest of crumbs. I don't expect much from this couple at this point and I'm a bit disappointed. FangTan are so cute and such good communicators. They are my favourites. QToey are cute. Now, Phum and Peem. Look PondPhuwin are really good at looking at each other like they're the only person in the universe. However. There's only so many times I can enjoy them staring at each other in slow mo. Once per episode oughta be enough I think. Hopefully now that they're actual boyfriends it gets a little less annoying.

QL - Finished

🇯🇵25 Ji, Akasaka de - What an incredible journey. I have to say it has been a while since a show surprised me this much, for the positive. For most of it I wasn't sure where it was gonna go or how it would end or who would be doing the running. The way they played with the show within a show was so well done. I loved the change in pov, which I always love in jbls, but it not only gave us the opportunity to see how Hayama's crush started but also we were allowed to see behind the mask that Hayama had been keeping up. Speaking of. I love him, one of my favourite characters of the year. And Komagine Kiita did an incredible job. I can't wait to watch him again when Tengu returns. If I had to say, the one thing I wish I had was more of Shirasaki's backstory. I wanted to understand better why his self-esteem got that bad. But that ending was great and honestly, I earned it.

🇵🇭Marahuyo Project - Well that was excellent. This show is beautiful. I want to hug them all and walk next to them. I really don't have the words for it right now so just go watch it. Because these characters are incredible and the visuals are stunning. All episodes here.

🇹🇭 Only Boo! - This is getting tiresome. Here it goes. Why? It was so great. They were the cutest shit and I had a smile on my face the entire episode. Even with the singing. It was wholesome and the mains delightful. And then... Heartbreak, time skip, no consequences, unearned happy ending. I mean Moo is a great character still, and Kang is the best boy, but I'm tired.

Rose Watches OJBL

Mood Indigo (2019) - I liked this one slightly better than the first. I think the visuals are stronger and there are some incredible shots throughout. The sex scenes are some of the best shot that I've ever seen. I love Kijima so even though I'm not always on board with prequels, it was great that we got more insight into him. Obviously we know this relationship was doomed from the start, and Kido has a lot to do with how we find Kijima in the beginning of The Novelist, but I can't help but feel for Kido. He is a mess that is struggling between the expectations that are on him (put there by others but also himself) and the affection and desire he feels for Kijima. And even without watching The Novelist there is always an air that this will not end well. For lack of a better phrase, it just wasn't meant to be. I'm looking forward to watching the rest of this series.

Dangerous Drugs of Sex (2020) - One of my first thoughts when I was watching this was 'we are using the word unhinged too freely'. Cause Ryoji has little competition on that score. This is not an easy watch. I really liked the way it was shot even if at times that meant my view was too narrow so I couldn't look anywhere else but the 'uglier' parts. In completely different ways they were both stuck in an uncomfortable (yeah that's not really the best word but I can't think of another) place and I could feel that throughout. I'm not sure about the ending but they look happy, so what do I know?

Other - Watched

There's a lot airing so I didn't watch much outside ql. I finished Under the Skin and rewatched a couple of things. My watchlist got longer and I have a bunch of shows that I'll hopefully tackle during my summer holiday in July. Speaking of...

There is a lot coming next month, so here is a post with all the shows that have been announced for July that I updated to include Meet You at the Blossom that was recently announced. New jbl starts tomorrow!!!!

As usual my ask box is open for questions or requests. Have a wonderful week💜

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic Fics by...

- kingsofeverything -

[1]

“It wouldn’t annoy me. I like talking to you. Hearing from you. You know that.”

Louis does know, though he tries not to think about it. Every time Harry says something like that, something kind or sweet or sincere, Louis laughs it off or makes a joke or changes the subject. It’s bad enough that he has to live with Harry, sleep beside him every night, spend all of his time with him… He has to fight it because he can’t let on how easy it would be to fall back in love with him.

It’d end badly. There’s no way around it. Because when Louis leaves in nine months, he’ll be gone for the next five years of Harry’s life. Five years that Harry hasn’t lived yet—Harry’s future—and neither of them know what’s coming. Louis can’t fall for Harry again when he knows it’ll end in heartbreak.

Once was enough.

[2]

“So, um…” Louis taps his fingers against his knee, and Harry wants to lay his hand on top of Louis’ to stop him, but he refrains, unsure what casual touches mean between them anymore. “We’re having a baby?”

Harry turns to find Louis looking at him hopefully, eyes wide. The corners of his mouth twitch upward. “It’s not a fantasy, Louis. Jesus. This isn’t a game.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Harry says. He clenches his jaw and then forces himself to relax. Stress isn’t good for the baby.

“Harry, I’m not— I know this is different.”

“Do you?” Harry asks, because it doesn’t even seem real to him right now.

“Yes! I told you about all my siblings. My mom’s a midwife, for fuck’s sake.”

Harry cringes. “Sorry.”

[3]

“You think you’re going to fix the house by yourself? What if you fall off the roof?”

“I’m not going to fall off the roof.”

“Still. You can’t. I’m not okay with that.”

Harry rolls his eyes and closes his laptop. “Fine. Then after the insurance agent is done with their shit, we get someone else to do the work. I know people in town who can do it. I was just trying to save us money.”

“You misunderstand, Styles. I mean I’m not okay with you doing it by yourself.” Louis crosses his arms and smirks. “I’m going to help.”

Harry laughs so hard that when Louis shoves him he actually slips off of his stool and stumbles a bit. “That is the worst idea I’ve ever heard. You’re going to push me off the roof, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

[4]

Harry glances over, line between his eyebrows, lips pursed. “Okay. Let's start simple. I want you to be the Louis who sits at the desk across from me and sometimes brings me coffee and makes fun of my favorite salad. And I want you to also be the Louis on this trip who tickled me until I almost threw up and who held my hand in a hot air balloon and who cleaned the sand out of my eyes. And, even though you have, like, some other guy out there with like ‘circumstances’ or whatever keeping you apart, I want you to be my boyfriend. At least for a little while.”

“Harold,” Louis says, pressing his fist to his lips and closing his eyes as the feeling of relief settles over him.

“What?”

“The circumstances are that he, well, he had a boyfriend. And we work together,” Louis says, raising his eyebrows, and waiting for his words to sink in. 

“Oh…” Harry scrunches his nose and twists his lips, but can’t hide his smile. “It’s me.”

- answers below -

1- The Second Hand Unwinds 

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

2- Say Something

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

3- Don't Want Shelter

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

4- Have Love, Will Travel 

Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series.

It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there’s something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

[bimbodoggie]

- (after hours ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

PAIRING(s) ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ professor!eren yeager x bimbo!fem reader

SYPNOSIS ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ eren sees how badly your grades are flunking, now him using office hours was the perfect opportunity to finally get you where he wants

CONTENT WARNING ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ nsfw, modern au, unprofessional relationships, eren is in his early thirties and the reader early twenties, unprotected sex, groping,filming, hair pulling, rough sex, reader is black and plus sized coded, kinda established relationships, talks of pregnancy, eren is really mean :(, degrading, anal, reader squirts on eren, fingering, oral, MINORS/BLANK ACCOUNTS DNI!

A/N ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ this is my second eren fic (other is on AO3), i wanted to do something aot considering most of my work is call of duty related.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you tried your best on every single assignment that was given to you, truly…but you couldn’t rub two brain cells together if you wanted to…and your professor saw that, the way you came in dress code breaking outfits, and how you would chew on your pen and always forget what the lecture was about, these were all things that eventually came back to you academically

and it wasn’t like you didn’t have help, armin would take you to study at the campus library, he would beg you to pay attention but of course you couldn’t it was too much and too quiet

“thank you minnie for helping me but its too much stuff for me to learn” you rose from your seat and gave armin a kiss on the cheek, leaving a mark from your gloss on his rosy cheeks, after that you turned around and made your way to eren’s classroom in hopes that he could find a better solution to this.

your acrylics tapped on the rectangular small window, eren was sitting at his desk doing what seemed to be grading assignments, you tapped a second time as if he was a fish in a bowl…his jade eyes met yours and he jogged to unlock the door and let you in…today he had on, khakis that showed his print no matter how much he tried to hide it, converse, and the uni’s name with the mascot

he was such a gentleman, after he pulled out the seat facing his desk he then walked over to his black roller chair which was accompanied by the ever growing wall of awards, but not a single family portrait was present

his face read disappointment, without a word he turned over his laptop and shook his head, “now y/n i want you to tell me what’s going on, this is the last semester and you’re my favorite student i would feel so guilty if i failed you” he said reading your expression hoping that there is a sign of remorse in that little head of yours

“look i know we are supposed to have a professional relationship, but there’s not enough time, the only solution is if we planned something outside of school where i can help, consider today a start” he told you patting your hand, the touch felt so nice you could really tell he took pride into his looks…but why was he single?

you smiled nodding along, “thank you professor, hopefully these sessions will allow me to get my grades up” you were so oblivious to your professors advancements, he than rose from his seat once more and rubbed his soft hand against your thick thigh

he put a stray piece of your curl behind your ear, “i always taken a liking to you, the way you come in here all dolled up, for an old perverted man like me” he whispered licking the shell of your ear making a shiver travel throughout your whole body, “hoping to see you later tonight” he added as you fixed your skirt trying to digest what just happened back there

you gotten to your dorm thinking about the possibilities of what will happen if you did meet your professor, his email flashed across your laptop screen, it felt so foreign but you loved and how taboo it was

eren made sure to change cars before coming to you, he greeted you with flowers and a kiss, the car ride consisted of questions that didn’t pertain to school nor work, after driving for so long you finally saw how your professor lived, his apartment felt so lonely, the takeout boxes sitting along the counter, and the decor just yelled a man resided here

“make yourself comfortable please” his voice was coated with warmth and hospitality your eyes wondered until you saw his bedroom, it was by luck that the bathroom was next to the bedroom or else you would of missed the show he was putting on, you got a brief glimpse of his body which seemed to be sculpted by the gods

“you can come in i dont bite” he smiled, oh this man…

“i didn’t want to talk to you about your grades, i can always change those in my system and nobody will know, but as long as you comply with my rules tonight i promise i will first thing in the morning” you were speechless, after that eren pulled in for a kiss

it was too passionate, you felt his tongue dance with yours making you moan in satisfaction, he then laid back making you straddle him, the session continued until desperation kicked in, your shaky hands danced their way to the black leather belt snaked through eren’s khaki pants, after you got him in his boxers your hands cupped his cock making him shoot up in shock

“am i doing good professor?” you asked showing him your begging eyes which was filled with lust by now, his reply was non-verbal but it was enough to give you the green light to continue with this torturous teasing

it wasn’t until you pulled down his boxers and audibly gasped at the size, you knew that wasn’t going to fit…your glossed lips met the sensitive tip, eren peered down at you and groaned in satisfaction

“you really are a slut, parading yourself with small skirts and panties hoping someone will see…you’re sick you know that?” he panted, you replied by cupping his balls which made him whimper, “mission accomplished” you thought to yourself

his large hands snaked through your soft curls, eren began to hold your head in place as a guide to indicate what he wanted, his hips bucked upwards making you almost choke

“enough” he growled sitting up and putting you face down into the mattress before you

he teased your soaked holes making you whimper in response,

“ren, it won’t fit” you pled for his mercy hoping there was some kindness remaining, the same kindness he showed you not too long ago, he only groped a handful of your ass in response, your manicured hands gripped the sheets as he slowly inched into you

“you’re a virgin, what happened now cat got your tongue” he asked putting his weight on your back causing a dip in the mattress, eren was a cruel man having you in this position

“slow down please” you begged almost choking on your words, the tears did not stop, after you tried pushing him away he put your hand behind your back

with his free arm he started pulling your hair, your cries bounced off of each wall…you hoped to yourself that he didn’t have thin walls, you took a peak at your professor he was in pure ecstasy, his eyes were lidded

“on your knees, now” he demanded, you did as told trying to send a signal to your legs telling them to work, eren then pulled out his phone, once again that dumb look was on your face

“i want you to play with yourself for me, can you do that for me baby, or are you too dumb?” he purrs clicking the video option, you spread yourself showing up your puffy cunt and all that came with it, your fingers met your hole which made you moan and whimper

“now tell me what you’re doing baby” he said propping his phone onto his tripod and crouching to where your cunt is, he started with his tongue licking your sensitive bud, at this point you’re overstimulated

“ren im close please” you panted, the rope in your soft tummy snapped, he then took your soft thighs and continued, he felt you clench on nothing which made him giggle

“gonna use that other hole flip over for me angel” eren demanded

your ass was once again vulnerable to eren’s assaults continuously, he spread you open to prep you…it wasn’t until you felt a strange sensation that caused you to cry out, he was in…that sadistic fuck.

“taking your holes, gonna claim you as mine how about fill you up with my cum and make you pregnant” eren grunted as you tried to accept your fate, the way his thrust felt he was close, and you felt as if you had to pee?

“eren get up please i have to pee and-“ before you could even utter another word clear liquid splashed all over the carpeted floor and some even gotten on you and eren, seconds later you felt a warm sensation in your puckered hole

he then pulled out of you which made you shivered, eren picked you up and set on the bed, after that he laid next to you

“class is dismissed and you will move in with me tomorrow so clean out your dorm” he said cleaning you up

[when-hyperfocus-hits]

This short story is inspired by @puhpandas ! I thought it was a headcanon that had a lot of room for ✨ angst ✨ so I wrote a little something… enjoy!

Original Post

—

“I don’t get it, Cassie. Why did you go out of your way… to save him?”

“He’s my best friend… We’ve been friends ever since my birthday party… And I always felt bad he never had a house of his own… He was lonely. And he must feel even more lonely now.”

Roxy tilts her head at me, and even though I can’t tell her expression, her small hum makes me believe that she’s at least trying to understand.

I explain further, “My Dad didn’t know Gregory didn’t have a place to say. Gregory said not to tell him. He made me promise, even though he comes to our house when it’s thunderstorming and he needs shelter. I didn’t know what to tell my Dad when he asked about it.”

Roxy appears to be thinking. “Well… what happened?” She sounds actually a bit curious.

I get lost in my thoughts. He visited our house almost every day after my dad got off work. My dad didn’t think anything of it at first… but when Gregory started staying late nights, my dad started getting suspicious something was going on… but I couldn’t tell him.

One night, it was stormy out, one of those really bad storms that rattle houses and light up the whole sky with white bolts of lightning. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and how the wind could blow his tiny shelter away, or how the thunder scared him, or…

But a knock at my window interrupts my thoughts. I already know who it is; he always comes over when it gets that bad.

“Gregory…!” I don’t waste any time getting up and opening the window for him. “You’re soaked! Why didn’t you come sooner—?”

He waves me off, stepping inside on a towel that’s always there that I keep just in case.

I figure he doesn’t want to talk about it now. “Want dry clothes?” I turn around, getting some clothes from my drawer that I keep for him when this happens, but when I turn back, Gregory is kneeling, curled up on the towel on the ground.

“New clothes?” I hand them to him.

“Thanks,” He mutters, looking up at me.

I cautiously try to bring up the subject again. “I didn’t see you at the pizzaplex today… what happened?” When he doesn’t answer right away, I add, “I missed you.”

He sighs. “…I got in trouble again. They almost got me this time.”

I look away. “If… you stayed with us… you wouldn’t have to keep sneaking in for stuff—“

“Cassie…” He groans and curls up again. “I told you, I can’t.” He mutters.

“You can’t keep… hiding. We can help you…”

“Can we not talk about this??” He snaps, but immediately lowers his tone when he says, “Please?”

I don’t answer, pacing around my room a bit before asking, “So you didn’t eat today?”

“Just some snacks,” He says simply.

Despite how tense it feels to talk right now, I ask, “Are you hungry….?”

“I don’t want to take your food…”

“No, no, we have leftovers. My dad made pasta tonight.”

“At least it’s better than dumpster pizza,” He chuckles, but stops when he sees I don’t find it as funny as he does. “Yeah, pasta is fine…” He adds quietly.

“My dad is probably still awake but hopefully he’ll be in his room or something…”

He just silently follows me downstairs, eyes fixed at the ground.

“Cassandra, what are you doing up this late—?”

My dad’s voice makes both of us jump.

“And— Gregory, what are you doing here?”

“He didn’t feel safe at his house—!” I butt in without thinking.

Gregory shoots me a look, and I already know I’ve messed up.

“Why?” My dad’s eyebrows furrow deeply into that line in between his eyebrows.

“I… I don’t necessarily feel unsafe…” Gregory starts but my dad isn’t finished.

“You’ve been coming over a lot here lately, Greg. Not that you’re bad company— quite the opposite— It’s just I’m worried about you. If your family is treating you badly—“

“No! No… I’m okay.”

My dad’s brows remain furrowed but he backs off. “Okay. If you ever need anything—“

“He’s hungry,” I jump in to end the conversation before it escalates.

My dad seems to buffer for a moment. “Right… Food. We have pasta.”

“Yep, I know.” Gregory flashes him a tight smile.

My dad eventually gives us our servings of fettuccine alfredo, saving the smallest serving for himself. But when Gregory and I go back upstairs, Gregory can’t seem to bring himself to eat. He just stares at the ground, almost completely lost in thought.

“Gregory….?”

It’s too dark to see at first, but when he starts to shake, I realize.

“Greg, don’t— don’t cry… Why are you—“

“Leave me alone, Cass—“ He says with tears in his voice.

“Is it the pasta?”

“No—“

I don’t want him to cry. That’s all I care about right now. “I’m sorry I said that to my dad— I didn’t mean to— It just came out—“

“No, Cassie! It’s not that—!” He practically slams his palms on his eyes in frustration.

“Then what is it??”

“I—“ He stops to take in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to go back…”

My vision blurrs as my ears start to grow hot. “…But you shouldn’t have to…. You can stay with us…”

“I can’t…”

“Why??” My voice breaks.

“Your dad will figure out… and it’ll be complicated and everything—“

“But it’ll be worth it in the end…” I kneel next to him.

He swipes at his eyes with his sleeve. He pauses. “You really think so?”

“Yes…! Yes…” And for once, I can actually feel a little hope.

He looks at me with red-rimmed eyes, but under all the stress and sadness in his expression, I can tell he’s feeling a little hope too.

It lingers only for a moment before it dies out again. “I can’t…” He whispers, more tears slipping down his face.

A knock at my door makes us both turn.

“Greg…” Dad’s back again, and I know he’d be even more worried that we’re both crying. “You’re not okay.”

“No— I am—“

“No, you’re not.” He states, not in frustration, but in firm concern. “Is someone hurting you at home?”

“No— Nothing is wrong—“ But the way he starts to tremble makes him even less convincing.

“You’re shaking, Greg. Clearly something is wrong…!”

“I— No—“ His face contorts as he cries more.

“I’m calling the police—“

“No—!” Gregory shoots up, his eyes wide and full of panic.

“We have to help you, Greg! Trust me, it’ll be okay.”

“No, no, no— You can’t—“

“It’s okay; you don’t have to protect whoever it is.”

Gregory tries to protest but he’s already reaching for his phone.

“Don’t worry,” He tries to reassure Gregory, but he just seems to get even more panicked.

“No! Please! You can’t—“

“Gregory—“ I hold him back, trying to give a hug or anything to give him reassurance but he pushes me away again. But not just me, he pushes my dad and I away, bolting down the stairs, despite my dad trying to chase him down.

“Gregory!” I scream desperately as he slams his way out the door and into the pouring rain. My dad follows after but I can’t seem to move. In fact, I don’t think I can do anything at all.

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe…

“Kid! Breathe!” Roxy shakes me out of it.

“Sorry—“ I gasp for air. “I didn’t realize…”

“Don’t be sorry. Just watch yourself.”

Her paw is heavy on me when she rests it on my shoulder. “I didn’t know he was… homeless. If we knew— If Vanessa knew, we wouldn’t be so hard on him.”

“…I haven’t seen him since,” I add quietly. “That’s why I’m looking for him Roxy… He deserves a better life. A place where he can hide and be safe… You understand, right?”

After a moment, she nods slightly. “Yeah… I guess I do… I’m sorry, Cassie. And if I ever see him again… I’ll say sorry to him too.”

“If…” I whisper, feeling hope vanish again like it vanished in his eyes that night.

[azsazz]

The Lady of Fire and Night

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: The idea that stemmed from these anon asks: “poly reader makes eris and azriel wear a get along shirt when they're fighting” to which I responded “she tries to withhold sex but they end up just having it with each other”

Warnings: Smut, az x eris while reader watches!

Word Count: 3,882

Notes: As if I didn’t just solidify my spot in the Azris community...

_________________________________________

You throw your head backwards on the couch with an exasperated sigh as a loud thud comes from upstairs, nearly shaking the entire house on its frame.

It hadn’t been easy, finding out that you had two mates, and with males that absolutely loathe each other as well. There was always arguing, jealousy, heated arguments that you’d had to distance yourself from.

You figured the only way the would get along was if you didn’t have sex with either of them until they fixed their attitudes towards one another.

Apparently, it hasn’t been going well.

You slam your book shut in your lap, entirely exhausted by the way that Azriel and Eris treat each other. It was difficult for all of you and you knew that they’d hopefully come to terms with the fact that there was a three-way mating bond eventually, but right now, that day could not come soon enough.

Slowly making your way up the stairs, you pray to the Mother that they resolve whatever it is that’s causing the issue before you make it up to your room. It’s unlikely, but a girl can wish.

Your hand is on the doorknob, ready to push the door open and give them your worst, lecturing them like the children they act as when they’re together. You’re over it, the three of you can’t have a single night without the two of them bickering and fighting and you’ve had enough.

“You’re really fucking annoying,” Azriel growls. There’s the sound of grunting and a body falling – or perhaps being thrown – onto the bed. Your brows pinch together in confusion, letting your hand go slack on the knob in favor of pressing your ear up against the thick door to hear what’s going on.

“And you’re really fucking slow. Why are there thirty buckles on these fucking pants?” The sound of Azriel beating Eris’ hands away so he can undo the leathers himself is unmistakable. You couldn’t blame Eris at all because when you were just as desperate to get Azriel out of his training gear you swore the buckles multiplied tenfold. Your heart jumps in your chest as you hear the clothing dropped to the floor, at thought of what exactly is happening on the other side of that door.

“Why don’t you do us both a favor and put that mouth to better use,” Azriel hisses as Eris shoves him back onto the bed.

There’s the thundering sound of a slap and a deep moan you recognize as Eris’. The noise is cut off abruptly, presumably by Azriel’s mouth as you can hear their hot, wet kisses from the other side of the door.

Your cunt throbs but you’re not ready to go inside yet, no matter how badly you want to see what’s going on. You don’t want them to know you’re out here, clenching your legs together at the debauched sounds they're making.

Maybe they didn’t hate each other as much as they claimed.

Azriel catches the auburn haired males sharp jaw in a firm grasp, forcing him to look up from where he’s down on his knees in front of him, mouthing at his muscular thighs like he was made for it, about to take his cock into his mouth.

“If you burn me I’ll fucking kill you.”

He’s not all that sure he likes the way his cock betrays him by twitching at the mirth in Eris’ eyes.

His breath catches in his throat as Eris takes him in for multiple reasons. His mouth is so warm, so inviting, his skilled tongue carefully swirling around his length as he works his way down, he’s never felt anything quite like this. 

At the same time, he receives word from a whisper of darkness that takes its time arriving at his ear, ghosting across the curve of Eris’ ass and spine, drawing a filthy groan from the lordling that makes your knees weak. The tendril of darkness reporting exactly what he and the male on his cock were hoping for.

That you are right outside the room.

You press your forehead to the cool hardwood of the door, hoping that the chill helps calm your burning skin.

The sounds they’re making are filthy and you know that you can cum from just hearing them, but you’d really rather not make your presence known yet, knowing you’d be unable to hold back the moans that are already threatening to spill from your lips.

You should’ve known better than to think you could go undetected.

“(Y/N),” Azriel’s strained voice calls, and of course he knows you’re standing on the other side of the door, those pesky shadows. “Are you going to come in and enjoy the fun or are you just going to listen from out there?”

You startle slightly, pulling back from the doorway. Of course you were going to go inside now, wouldn’t miss out on seeing this, taking a shaky breath to try and steady your racing heart. Your hand is trembling almost as much as your legs are as you twist the knob and push open the thick door.

Gods, what’s happening before you is absolutely fucking sinful.

Eris is down on his knees between Azriel’s legs, who’s leaned back on the bed, his tanned skin on display for you to drink in selfishly. He’s propped up on his forearms, head thrown back in bliss, as Eris greedily sucks his cock with such precision and skill that Azriel can’t even begin to think of how the heir could be so good.

His breath hitches and his abdominals flex deliciously as Eris does something positively ungodly with his tongue at the tip of his cock before taking him as far as he can, the warmth of his mouth feeling like the perfect home.

It still comes in second place to your mouth, that is.

Eris’ auburn hair is disheveled, even more so when Azriel’s large hand brushes the stray strands from the Autumn native’s forehead before he fists the locks and gives a sharp tug. The male on his knees releases a corrupt moan around Azriel’s cock, which in turn causes the shadowsinger to exhale a growl of pleasure.

The smirk on his lips when his head tips forward is wicked. He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils fully dilated with arousal. You know they can both scent your want–need from where you’re frozen in the doorway.

“Yeah, that’s fucking right, take it. I knew that fucking mouth was more useful doing something else.”

The strong column of his neck is already littered with bruises but you think you see a few spots where you can mark him with your mouth, if you can even make your way all the way over to where they are.

The sound of Eris’ wet mouth as Azriel fucks into it is something that you never hope to forget.

“Care to join?” Eris asks, pulling off of Azriel’s cock with a pop. The shadowsinger hisses as the chill of the room caresses his glistening dick, using the hand he has twisted in the strawberry locks to try and shove the autumn native back down onto it, missing the heat of his mouth already.

He had been well on his way to cuming right down Eris’ throat.

“No,” you blurt, and even Azriel’s movements stop, lifting his gaze from Eris’ to yours.

Dark brows furrow in confusion as ruddy chestnut eyes stare at you. The hand loosens in Eris’ hair in shock and he strokes calming circles into Azriel’s thighs as they wait for you to continue.

“I want to watch,” you breathe bashfully, cheeks turning a rosy pink at your admission. 

Eris smirks and Azriel hums, letting his head fall back onto the mattress beneath him. His orgasm has ebbed off from the worry that came with you not wanting to join them, thinking they’d done something wrong, but now knowing that you want to watch instead…his cock twitches against his hip.

“By all means,” Eris’ voice is like silk, even though he’d had Azriel’s cock shoved so far down his throat you didn’t think he’d be able to speak for days after, which you’re now realizing might’ve been what Azriel had wanted anyway.

You watch Eris return to work, kissing at the sensitive parts of Azriel’s thighs, sucking a deep purple mark into his lower abdomen, one that would sit right above the waistline of his pants.

He crawls higher, biting, nipping, sucking at every ripple of muscle that he can, enjoying the way Azriel’s hands caress and trail across his body as he moves up, tracing a puckered scar with the tip of his tongue.

The hot sensation of his mouth causes Azriel to gasp and his grip to firm on Eris’ hips. He’s panting, cock aching, jumping with need everytime any part of Eris’ body glides across it. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to last.

Your feet come unfrozen from the floor as Eris reaches Azriel’s mouth, dipping down for their lips to meet with a fiery passion. Azriel is quick to respond, burning his fingers back into the disheveled locks of the autumn male, teeth biting, clashing, dragging harshly against each other's lips until Eris gasps in pleasure when the shadowsinger bucks up against him, sneaking his tongue into Eris’ mouth.

You head towards the comfortable couches near the fireplace, eyes never leaving the two males gliding together on the bed. Eris grinds down against Azriel’s cock and they both make sounds of pleasure, keens and whimpers for more, begging the other for it.

It would be impossible to look away if you tried.

You settle onto the couch, wasting no time, kicking off your panties beneath your skirts before you sit. You won’t be needing them and they’re working too quickly for you to undo all of the clasps of your dress, hiking up the fabric to get a hand on yourself.

Azriel’s tongue rubs along Eris’ straight teeth before diving deeper. He can taste the faint flavor of himself in Eris’ hot mouth as he slides back, one hand on the other males him to drag him up the bed for more room.

His hands roam Eris’ body, faltering when he feels a few scars across the side of his abdomen. From what, he could only begin to wonder, but then he hears your gasp, his shadows telling him that you’ve snuck your hand down to your cunt, gathering the slickness and slowly teasing your clit as you watch them with wide eyes. That knowledge, mixed with Eris’ warm hands gripping his cock have the thoughts of where he got these scars eddying from his mind.

Azriel grunts and arches into Eris at the feeling. You swallow dryly as you watch, their two powerful bodies writhing, grinding against each other like two Gods sculpted from marble you’d seen in the Dawn Court. Your breathing is coming out in little pants as you tease yourself, skirts lifted and bunched around your waist.

The low dip of your corseted top is easy to maneuver, pausing your ministrations to lean forward and pull the ties loose, letting the top fall away so you can play with your peaked nipple in time with your swollen clit.

Azriel’s length is heavy in Eris’ palm as he rubs, eliciting the most delicious sounding moans, his body curving, seeking out Eris’ after a particularly pleasurable twist of his hand.

Scarred hands trail down the length of Eris’ spine, causing him to whimper into Azriel’s mouth as he shudders in its wake. The autumn royal’s body collapses on top of the tanned one of the male under him, pinning his hand around Azriel’s cock between them.

Azriel’s fingers glide over the curve of his ass and Eris keens when he brushes over his pucker, pulling away from his mouth, face twisted with pleasure and eyes fully dilated.

“Please,” he begs, hips desperately trying to follow the barely there circles of his fingers. Azriel stops him from moving with his free hand because he’s brushing up against his painfully hard cock and if he doesn’t stop he’s going to cum before he even gets to be inside Eris.

He takes a moment to admire the male on top of him, pink lips swollen red, mottled with color that sticks out in such contrast to the paleness of his skin. Even his freckles seem to be alight, like embers of the fire burning within him, and Azriel can’t help but swallow harshly as realization dawns on him. He’s liked everything that has to do with the inferno that is Eris, his warm mouth, hot hands streaking across his skin and around his cock…maybe he’ll get over his fear of fire yet.

Eris follows his plea with a squeeze to Azriel’s cock, drawing an answer from him.

“Okay, Eris,” Azriel’s voice takes on the same tone it does when you’re the one whining beneath him, a mess of heightened emotions, and the way that Eris reacts to it – a sigh of relief when he’s gifted a soft kiss, shuddering as Azriel presses his finger in – has you biting your lip harshly as you circle your finger faster, afraid to drag the attention to yourself.

Azriel is as eager as the strawberry haired male, rutting his hips into Eris’ as he slowly works his way in. His finger drags against the snug walls, searching slowly, teasing in and out as he reaches for the oil on the nightstand.

Eris growls when Azriel slips his finger out because it hadn’t been enough, he’d just barely had the finger inside of him before he was pulling away. The shadowsinger is quick to stifle it with a kiss. He doesn’t need to see as he slicks his digits with the oil, doesn’t care if he’s making a mess upon the heir’s back, he doesn’t care about any of that.

He nearly wails at the loss but then Azriel is rubbing at his rim again, and his finger slides in much easier this time.

A broken moan escapes the freckle male and he presses eagerly back against the finger, Azriel watching with dark eyes, “That’s it, fireling, that’s a good boy.”

You think you might bite right through your lip then. Azriel was normally a male of few words, but he really opened up in the bedroom, filthy words escaping his lips, praises and kisses of all kinds. You can see that Eris likes it just as much as you do because he’s planting both of his hands on either side of Azriel’s head for stability as he ducks down to kiss him.

Eris’ eyes roll into the back of his head as Azriel finds the bundle of nerves he’s been searching for, nearling going boneless, letting out a garbled moan to which Azriel responds with a grunt of agreement and a buck of his hips.

It’s nearly too much, watching them going at it, how they’d went from fighting to having sex together in the span of minutes. All because you were withholding from them due to their constant arguments. Well this was one way to make up for it for sure.

You’re already so close to the edge and the hadn’t even started the main event but you can’t hold it in, they’re too beautiful, fucking effortless as they devour eachother like they actually do hate each other.

You spill over the edge with a cry that drags both of their attention to where you’re dragging slow circles around your clit as you come down from your high. Both of their cocks twitch and Azriel choses now to slip a second finger into Eris, his bones shuddering as both of your moans reverberate in his body.

They watch your chest heave, your delicate fingers until they come to a rest. You know you’ll orgasm again before either of them, but you don’t care, this was truly something else.

“Good job, baby,” Azriel praises and Eris murmurs his agreement, your cunt clenching in reflex. Gods, the things that these males could do to you, taking you apart with only their words.

When you feel like you’re able to open your eyes again you flush, because your two partners are still staring at you, all dark eyes and eager.

“What?” you squeak, and there’s a sudden urge to pull your skirts down even though they had seen you naked multiple times before. Your hand twitches but you don’t act on it.

“Do you want to watch me ride Azriel’s cock or do you want him to be on top?” Eris’ voice is a drawl of lust, anticipation all in one. He rocks back on Azriel’s fingers, a third in there now, scissoring and brushing up against his walls as they make room for the Illyrian’s cock.

You exhale harshly as the thought of them in both positions makes your cunt throb with pleasure. Your hand jerks again, not to cover yourself but to touch.

“Ride him, Eris,” you respond eventually. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get to see the other position someday too.

“Atta girl,” Azriel responds, still working his fingers as Eris sits up, snatching the oil from where the shadowsinger had abandoned it. He pours some in his hands, warming it up with the flames that live inside of him before he’s reaching down for Azriel’s cock again, slicking it up.

Eris presses featherlight kisses to Azriel’s collarbones and the shadowsinger's stomach dips in anticipation. He nods softly at Azriel, pecking him on the lips, letting him know that he’s ready.

Azriel slowly removes his fingers, one last brush against Eris’ prostate that has the heir squirming and whimpering with pleasure. He’s achingly hard, but the sight before him is like a dream, and he can’t wait to be inside of him. 

Taking Azriel’s cock in hand, Eris lines him up, fitting his ass to the male’s hips, rubbing the tip of his cock against his hole.

There’s twin moans of relief as you watch Eris slide down on Azriel’s cock, taking in all of his thickness greedily.

He’s pretty sure he blacks out for a second. Eris’ breath catches in his throat at the press of Azriel’s dick inside of him and it seems to be never ending, so big that he feels like it’s hitting the back of his throat when their hips finally meet.

Your fingers had found your clit again, already working yourself up to another orgasm when the show has only just started.

“Are you okay?” Azriel murmurs, a strain to his voice like he’s forcing himself not to grab Eris by the hips and fuck up into him. Instead, he mouths at the heir’s throat, making his way to his parted lips.

“Mph,” Eris is utterly breathless and blissed out already, can’t even move with the way he feels so full. “Move.”

The inky haired male holds him impossibly close as he slides slowly out, all the way until it’s just his tip that’s nestled inside of the autumn male, jutting into him once more. He feels Eris’ nails scratching down his sides and he revels in the burn from it, spurring him on.

“Fuck,” Azriel gasps, “You feel so good.”

Eris moans in agreement and you can’t take your eyes off of them, Eris urging Azriel to move faster, bobbing his own hips in time with the shadowsinger, meeting his thrusts with his own. His body is set in a permanent arch with Azriel hitting the spot that makes him see stars with every press of his hips.

The lordling takes things into his own hands, hands pressing flush against Azriel’s tone chest, hauling himself upright to ride the Illyrian below him like the wild fireling he is.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us, (Y/N)?” Azriel asks, his voice gravelly as Eris slides up and down on his cock. The veins in his neck stand out, strained, wings spread wide and falling off the sides of the bed as he watches through the hair that’s fallen into his eyes. “You can come sit on my face, baby.”

“Fuck,” you moan, tossing your head backwards as his words go straight to your cunt. You pinch your taut nipple, arching off of the couch, the fire building in your stomach and you’re so blissed out you don’t even think you could move across the room if you tried.

But there is always time for round two later.

“Keep going,” you urge, breathless. You’re too warm, should’ve made the time to take your skirts off but the two males weren’t waiting around for you when you arrived hastily, scrambling to find a better view.

Eris lets his head fall against Azriel’s. Their mouths are open, panting against each other, hot breath fanning over their faces as they share noises, moans and pleads for Azriel to go harder or how devastating Eris looks on top of him.

Azriel grips Eris’ hips, holding him tight against his body as he plants his feet into the bed, using it to leverage himself so he can jackknife up into Eris harshly, grunting harshly as he bites into the skin of the autumn male’s creamy shoulder.

Eris’ stomach coils tighter each time Azriel’s cock rubs over his prostate, and soon enough it’s a fire within him, so hot and intense he can hardly hold it in.

Much like yourself from your spot a few feet away, tucking your fingers inside in time with Azriel’s thrusts, gathering your slick and rubbing furiously over your clit as the shadowsinger growls in pleasure, making a mess of yourself.

Their scents are nearly overpowering, and you suck in breath greedily as night-chilled mist and nutty whiskey mix, pulling you closer and closer to your own edge.

“Azriel,” Eris pants, begging, hoping that the shadowsinger understands what he’s asking for.

And he does because his thrusts pick up even more and his hand snakes down between them, taking hold of the lordling's neglected cock, pumping in time with his thrusts. He can feel Eris throbbing in his palm and he squeezes harder, tugging him as his hips stutter inside of him. He’s so close, you’re so close, Eris is–

Moaning loud and unabashed, perfect mouth parting as he orgasms, creamy, hot cum streaming between their chests.

Eris’ reaction has Azriel spilling over the edge, the red heads ass tightening deliciously around his cock as he cums. Azriel buried his head into Eris’ neck to muffle his groan as he lets go blissfully, hips faltering in Eris as he continues to milk the other male.

The sight and sounds of it has you following right after, toppling into oblivion, the three of you panting for breath in the aftermath of what was the most erotic thing you’ve experienced thus far.

You knew having two mates was going to be something special, but even you hadn’t quite expected this.

Azriel is the first to break the post-orgasmic silence, helping Eris off of his cock and tucking him into his side, brushing the fringe from his eyes and placing a soft kiss on his forehead, beckoning you with his free hand.

“Now will you come here, (Y/N)? We’ve missed you.”

[superego-imagines]

OMG it was so nice to read about your blog! I'm on my knees praying to you like a god for some Polka-dot man x reader headcanons. preferably romantic or smut (whatever you feel comfortable writing) I just wanna give him the love he deserves <3

((He's my fucking MAAAAAAAN! I'm so glad other people like him!

Polka-Dot Man Relationship Headcanons SFW + NSFW

SFW Headcanons

So I’m not going to get too into the weeds of how you guys got together because I already covered that in OT3 fic. But suffice is to say that it’s gotta be slow-burn friends to lovers 30k words 40 chapters. So when you finally do start dating you’re already pretty comfortable with each other. In a lot of ways that makes things easy. But knowing when to take it slow and how exactly to transition your relationship from a platonic one to a non-platonic one takes time. You spend the first week or so dancing around each other trying to bait the other into making first moves, like him nudging his hand against yours during a movie, or you leaning in so you can “get rid of an eyelash”. Eventually he breaks and asks to hold your hand and you both hopefully learn that you have to use your words to get what you want!

Living with the virus outside Belle Reeves is difficult. He can’t go more than six hours before the initial symptoms start to show. There's very few safe places for him to expel his dots without major property damage. The safest option, albeit not the most environmentally friendly, is a backyard or a private place in a local park. Anywhere where large amounts of matter can be displaced with little damage to infrastructure. Maybe you can cut a deal with the city's waste management department lol. There's also the physical side effect. As much as he desperately wants to fit in, it can be hard when there's a big glowing hazard sign threatening to burst out of his face. It can make going out in public anxiety-producing, which doesn’t help anything. He was given a more subtle power dampening collar as part of his parole. This helps him sleep through the night but comes with its own unpleasant side effects like headaches and nausea. Not to mention that any sort of medical equipment or restraints are mildly triggering. Like a lot of chronic/long term medical problems, there's no easy fix, you just have to establish care plans, stick to what works and try to be patient when things don't work out.

For related and unrelated reasons, dates can be kind of hard. So many years of only seeing the same four walls until eventually seeing a different same four walls have left him desperate for any and every experience he can. But that can easily swing back the other direction, leaving him overstimulated from all of the noise and bright lights and people all bearing the face that haunts him. He wants to do all the things he could only read about in books or watch on TV when he was younger. He wants to try new foods and go to new places and just have fun for once. But sometimes it’s just too much, especially in particularly loud, crowded, or otherwise overwhelming places. And then that leads to a new wave of frustration and anxiety because he wants so badly to do normal couple things with you but it feels like he always ruins it. He doesn’t of course but it’s hard to not feel frustrated. Though that isn’t to say there aren't plenty of fun things to do together, you just have to work your way up to the big stuff. His favorite date you’ve been on was probably the trip to the aquarium. It was so beautiful and peaceful! Although he did insist that you just move on past the Echinoderm exhibit. Also fun pseudo/at-home dates include Mystery Meal Nights in which you try to find a new take-out place or at least a new food from one of the classics. And, while he won’t instigate it, he does really like dancing with you. He likes it in general, but unless he’s mildly to majorly drunk he won’t dance in public. So you can have little living room dance parties with just the two of you~ He doesn’t dance particularly well, but that just makes it more fun. Dance comes from the heart and that, he has plenty of.

So sort of paralleling the sensory issues I’ve already mentioned. He is simultaneously extremely touch-starved and desperate for affection, but will also sort of out of nowhere get touched-out and just kind of need space. For the first half of his life he was pretty much exclusively around family, and then was put into solitary for most of the rest of it. And now he has you! Someone he loves so so much and wants to hug and kiss and cuddle and all the other things boyfriends are supposed to do. Sometimes it’s just still too foreign and overwhelming, although the longer you two date, the easier it gets and the less often these moments occur. But on the flipside, when he does feel touchy, he might as well be made of Velcro. Every time you cross a new line of acceptable relationship behavior (hand-holding, kissing, etc.), he just adds that to the list of things he’s constantly trying to do. Sometimes he’s just so happy it doesn’t feel real, like he’s going to wake up and it will all be some crazy dream. Nothing in his real life could actually be this nice. He doesn’t articulate it when he feels like that, but you’ll know it by the way his breath shudders when he holds you close, or he holds you extra tight, murmuring an apology in your ear but not letting go. Not yet. Just in case.

NSFW Headcanons

(Under the Cut)

So related to the above, that touch starvation definitely translates sexually. While he eventually mellows out, especially early on in the relationship there's a sort of barely restrained desperation in everything he does. He doesn't ever instigate or suggest something new but the second you suggest or okay something he jumps on it. He just doesn't want to scare you off or push you, even if you want him just as badly. Whenever you're making out, he tries to press as close to you as humanly possible. His kisses are uncoordinated and a little sloppy but his eagerness is sexy in its own right. He's just been so pent up with no outlet or even privacy until now. And he was pining after you for so long. Can you blame him for trying to make up for lost time?

This man is sooooo desperate to please. He's just head over heels in love with you. You've brought so much joy and love to his life, he wants to show you how much he loves and appreciates you. (At a less sexy time, it'd probably be good to talk with him about that feeling of debt and how you love him for who he is, not what he can do for you. But that’s a whole other demon.) So that being said, he’s pretty flexible. While he’s not exactly adventurous, he is open to suggestions. If you want him to take charge, he’ll do his best! Or he’s happy to follow instructions and let you take the lead. Service-Vers. Though, while he’d never ask for it because pleasing you is at the forefront, he’d really enjoy getting to be a pillow prince every once in a while. Just smothered in affection while you take care of everything and spoil him. He’d probably die of happiness.

To be perfectly honest, he’s pretty vanilla. But that’s not a bad thing! He likes gentle, romantic love-making in a bed with the lights dimmed. While he’s not opposed, per say, to trying something new every once in a while, he doesn’t really need anything other than you to make him happy. No matter how many times you two have sex it never gets old or feels less special. If anything it just gets better the more familiar and comfortable he becomes with your body and his own. He likes missionary best but is also a fan of really any position where he can hold you close and see/kiss your face. The one sort of kink he has is praise, though I’d argue everyone likes praise a little. Please tell him how he’s doing and how good you’re feeling. That he’s handsome and good and most of all: that you love him~ He never gets tired of hearing you say it~

[malacandrax]

Had the enlightening thought that I could use my blog for blogging. I don't love splitting myself into separate marketable entities, so I'll probably post more craft stuff here. (I have a passing knowledge of So many hobbies it's a bit ridiculous- my most developed are probably doll customisation (wigs, faceups etc), sewing tiny clothes and maybe crochet.) I thought I would share some patch process from...2021? (ugh)

I don't know how many of you will have seen on twitter, but I've started making patches for my jacket after being deeply dissatisfied with what I could find online (I find that I need to know & search for a creator specifically or I just get mainstream patches... 'bee happy' etc)

The Billie patch (of the painting) was actually me going 'I wonder if posca works on fabric' and I tested it on the smallest scrap, which bit me in the ass, because I did that face with no planning or sketch and it came out perfect, no way I was going to do it that good again. SO i stitched it onto a bigger bit of black fabric, which is surprisingly unnoticeable in the end!

The rainbow strip was made because I didn't like how clean and manufactured store bought flag patches are, I wanted something undeniably gay, but a little more subtle and personal. I chose the colours to be a bit softer (I'm aware the dark brown should be black, I had no grey to pastel-ify it with, like I did the others) and I've seen little rainbow strip lapel pins before, so I sort of copied that in fabric form.

The next is Brian Molko in the 'Pure Morning' video, which I watched so much when I was younger. I put a screenshot through a binarization filter, and tried my best to copy it down. It was going really well, and then I foolishly placed it over my photo to see how it lined up (badly) and I went back in and completely ruined the likeness. While it wasn't a good copy, I still think it looked good before I went over it. SO I made another :'). I also sort of fixed up the first, because seeing it on the desk was embarrassing me.

I also added the embroidery in the colours I think of when I try and remember the video (his lips particularly were sort of coral coloured and the androgyny struck me hard as a teen)  The Eve Elloree was from an old gay magazine- the art director asking for assistance, I just thought it was really fucking cute haha Way more info on my long ass twitter thread.

The extremely badass black and white one is from superpose! And the fruits wizard is here (because im a fruit, har har)

Hopefully I can make more this year, I have too many hobbies and not enough wrist stamina!