#i have felt entirely too human today

[dirtymaws]

WEEE HAVE WOLF BRACELETS AT WORK YOU K N O W I AM GRABBING ONE BEFORE THEYRE GONE

[pearlymel]

"The Masks We Wear"

Summary: as a journalist, you are itching to find the identity of this mysterious hero. But could it be that the hero is closer to you than you think?

Wc: 7.3k eat up

Warnings: Wriothesley x afab!reader, gn! reader, modern au, hero and villian au (one of each), reader is a journalist/cameraman, fluff, making out, crack (i laughed a lot writing this), angst (oops), one small sex scene, slightly under the influence, cursing, it's pretty unrealistic, petnames used: sunshine, love, and sweetheart.

Notes: i poured my heart and soul into this, i think it's my best piece so far ^^ give it a chance, maybe you'll love it. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease) Rbs are greatly appreciated!

Credits: banner art by the great @/danijaci

Click!

The city is absolutely beautiful today. No, no. It’s not because of the lights that makes the place brighter and a bit more magical, how it seems livelier with a group of teenagers laughing together while buying street foods together, or the old couple that seem still very much in love, the gentleman kneeling down and tying her shoes just to make sure she wouldn’t trip this time.

Humans can be cute, you think.

But of course, among those innocent ‘humans’ are those who desire destruction.

This time, you think you might have caught something in the shadows, and you stare intently at your camera, zooming it in to see the faintest color blending in with the darkness. Hair? A part of clothes? You don’t know, but you got it.

you have this obsession of finding out who the hero of this city was, or even the villian. Although, you would be technically be walking into death if you try finding out who the villian is.

Where did this hero come from? No one knows. Sure the crime rate has lowered, but it felt like the world became even more messed up.

It all started a couple of years ago when you were in your college days, one day almost dying from a falling building, and you thought you saw the scythe waiting to take your soul at that very moment but, no.

The mysterious hero of the city that you never thought you would never encounter carried the building with his super strength power, apparently.

He who has no name, took your hand and lead you into a safer area with the police.

cliché story, right. But that’s what got you into journalism and media now.

And let’s say… you’re too far into the deep black hole to back down now.

The almost blinding light made you come back to your senses, the sounds of engine roaring in the air as the bike approached you, and your shoulders were already slumped.

“How did you find me?” You raise your voice due to the loud engine running, covering parts of your vision from the light.

“Lucky guess.” Wriothesley replied gruffly, pulling his helmet off and shaking his head slightly to fix up his messy strands.

“Care to explain what on earth are you doing here in this shady alleyway? At nine thirty where the moon is out and wolves could be coming for you?” He starts scolding you, quirking an eyebrow when you give him the bored expression, and he immediately mimics it back.

“Taking pictures.”

“Of the rats?”

“Wriothesley.” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in the air. “I understand your… obsession. But it could hurt you in the process, mentally and physically.”

You know he’s saying all this because he cares so much about you. Loves you too much that it would break his soul piece by piece if one day what you’re doing will hurt you.

“Hop in, sweetheart.” He hands you the extra helmet, and you take it with a sigh. Securing it around your head before taking your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the engine.

The whole ride back was silent, yet traffic, which entirely ruined the whole mood. With the constant car horns ringing in your ear.

You tap at his thigh to grab his attention, “Why’s it traffic?” You grumble, rising yourself from the seat to look at the row of cars trying to get through.

“Not any holidays or events i can think of,” he responds back to you.

Red mixed with orange fills your vision, suddenly the car at the very front explodes. The car parts flying in the air and landing at the other vehicles which makes you frozen in shock.

Wriothesley’s clenches his hands tightly as he turns the bike around, speeding his way far away from the scene. “Hold onto me tight, and don’t look back, you hear?” He yells enough to grab your attention, and your arms tightens around him, but you have your head turned around to see the people yelling and dashing out of the vehicles. You want to capture the moment with your phone so you could submit it in for the news, but you know more than to ignore Wriothesley right now.

It’s not rare to see destruction happen in your city, it’s just… terrifying every time anybody witnesses it.

Maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was planned.

“You’re not allowed to go out after seven.” Wriothesley makes it clear to you with his firm tone as you both step inside your shared apartment, locking the apartment with a click. He then tosses his keys into a bowl on a small table, before turning to look at you.

“Are you seriously setting a curfew for me? Please. what happened was not new—”

Your face is now being cradled by his rough hands, but the way he swipes a thumb under your eyebags really makes you melt. And you forget what you were going to say when his lips curl the slightest.

“I don't want anything happening to you. Ever.” He takes you in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever held. “I didn't mean to pressure you like that. I'd hate it if you were in the position of those injured people.”

You pat his back to reassure him that hopefully nothing like that will happen. “And, if, hypothetically, something like that happened; What would y—”

“I'll kill everyone.” he doesn't even let you continue before he answers, though the chuckle against your hair followed after makes your tense shoulders relax.

“maybe not to that extent,” he lifts your head up to lean in and press a tender kiss on your forehead.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“what is it?”

“… something or someone.”

Your boss gives you a nonchalant sharp look when you eagerly showed him the bits you managed to capture last night before you were interrupted by your great boyfriend.

His eyes squints at the more of a blurred photo that sits on the display of your camera, taking the glasses that hanged from his collar.

The sigh afterwards makes you feel discouraged when he hands you back your camera.

“i see it.” He starts and you perk up immediately.

“it looks like a blurred image of a fucking bird taking a shit on the electrical cords.” You press your lips into a thin line at his description. Too detailed of a description,

what a bastard.

It.. certainly didn't look like that.

You clear your throat, pinching the bridge of your nose to compose yourself.

“You're lucky i like your determination or you would've been fired,” he utters out in a lax tone, resting his glasses on his big bald head that you want to spill with ketchup.

“Keep looking, i need the hero's face, details, anything. Just think of the money you and i could both earn.” He seems too enthusiastic about it, showing you determination with his fists pressing together and his wide ear to ear smile.

You leave work early that day, starting your daily walk of looking around for at least two hours or—one hour?

No, Wriothesley would be too worried if you came back after… nine. Your words not his.

You need to rearrange a schedule in your head.

Step one: somehow convince your boss that you need to leave early everyday.

Step two: search every nook and cranny of the city, ask every shady person if they get to talk to the hero in person or got a glimpse of his name.

Step three: go to the dark web— is that car flying infront of you right now?!

Shit. Just why does everything have to go down wherever path you go?

The people around you panics, and you equally panic with them because you're no fucking hero to tell them to get away from that flying car.

You take your camera out hurriedly from its case that slung around your shoulder, pressing record while frantically looking around. The ground shakes, it shakes so much that it feels like an earthquake almost.

“it's him! The villian!” Someone shouts from the distance, and just like that the screams that follows are in sync.

You know why the ground shook, the street has become a battlefield for the hero and villain fighting together with all their strengths, the air is filled with tension as they both clash in an epic confrontation. The ground trembles beneath your feet again as they traded blows, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The once tranquil street has now been transformed into a chaotic arena of power and destruction. As the battle rages on. The hero and villain continue their fight, each strike more powerful than the last, their movements a blur of speed and precision.

You try capturing anything with your camera, but your hand shakes that it was impossible. When the villian lands a powerful punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back, it makes you think it's time to leave.

You run with the rest without stubbornness this time. You should've listened to Wriothesley, why did you always have to be so curious about everything?

This curiousity will kill you next after the cat.

“Taxi!” You shout, waving your hand at the yellow vehicle, but every taxi seems to ignore the people's pleas, determined to save themselves instead.

Guess it's time to burn calories and run back home.

You were a panting mess once you reached back to your comfort space, eyes zeroing at the running television in the living room. Watching the newscaster talk about today's battle and how it affected the shops and buildings.

It seems like the battle lasted twenty minutes before the villian gave up and fled away.

Your head snaps to the bathroom once you hear the sink water drip, you didn't even think if he would be here this early.

“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly when you swing the door open, arms squeezing his side as you take a deep breath in.

“woah, easy there. What happened?” He takes you in, hand rubbing at your arm.

“i was…” nevermind. Maybe you shouldn't tell him what you have witnessed, he'll know once he checks the news.

You only realise that he was chest bared at the moment, and you furrow your eyebrows once you see a bruise on his shoulder.

“What happened?” It was your turn to ask, talking a gentle finger and running it over the bruise, earning a hiss from him.

“was changing the car oil at the repair shop.” He mumbles, gaze turning to the mirror, “then accidentally hit my shoulder once i got up.” he turns his arm, swinging it slowly.

“but you don't work at a car repair shop?”

“it's a side hustle, sunshine.”

“why didn't you tell me?” You press on, and he hangs his head low, both of his hands gripping the sink bowl.

Okay, maybe you have annoyed him a little too much now. Upon sensing your incoming apology, Wriothesley smiles at you.

“don't worry your pretty little head too much. The bruise will fade.”

“i can massage you later?” You offer, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You're the best.” He gives you a chaste kiss on your lips on his way out, which makes you feel a little fuzzy.

The evening gave way to the night sky, and you found yourself lying on the bed, replaying the video captured on your camera. The footage was far from perfect, shaky and lacking in clarity, but it still managed to capture fragments of the intense confrontation between the hero and the villain. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you watched the brief glimpses of the clash that had taken place earlier.

How the villian managed to blow a punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back. Must've hurted.

It's almost like the same spot Wriothesley got his bruise on.

…

Wait, the same spot?  You sit up on the mattress, replaying the video on repeat of their fight.

The hero was about the same height as him, the same physique, same cake—

You shake your head, focus. Wriothesley can't be the hero, no that's impossible. He was a busy man, doing… side jobs and whatnot.

Sure he was kind, always helping everyone, even walking the neighbors dog because they got sick one day.

But then again… you never saw Wriothesley and the hero at the same time,

Or was it merely a coincidence, a random alignment of physical features?

“Sunshine?” You gasp when you snap your head up to find Wriothesley leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“y-yes?” You set the camera aside on top of the drawer. He moves closer, seating himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you then glancing at he camera.

“dinner's ready.”

You nod, silence fills the room after. You know he's waiting for you tell him more, on why you were so shocked.

“was looking at the hero's pictures.”

“not mine? I'm wounded.”

You roll your eyes, a slow smile creeping up your face, and he loves it. He takes it as an invitation to lean closer, suddenly pinning you down on the bed to capture your lips with his.

It's slow, and gentle. It makes you hum softly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him back, moving your lips together until you were gasping for air.

You forget you were even suspicious of him a second ago.

Your fingers lightly trace his jawline and you feel the pricks of his growing facial hair. A small smile plays on your lips as you inform him in a soft tone, "You need to shave." Wriothesley chuckles softly, the sound warm and low. He reaches up to your hand, gently taking hold of it and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your palm. "Is that why you stopped kissing me?" He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No! I find you more.. attractive. Plus it.. yeah, it feels like little needles on my face.” you admit quietly.

Wriothesley presses his face into your neck, his lips tracing soft kisses along your skin. His hands begin roving your body, each touch sending a gentle shiver across your flesh. He whispers quietly next to your ear, his voice low and smooth as he responds, "I'll shave after dinner." The sensations of his lips against your neck and his hands exploring your body mix together, creating a heady combination that heightens your senses and ignites a slow fire within you.

“I'll.. help.” You whisper, bringing both of your arms to wrap them around his back. “What a sweetheart.” he uttered out, voice muffled from trying to mold into your skin.

Your mind stops working for a second when he presses his knee gently between your legs to pull them apart, “Wriothesley, what about dinner?” You frantically ask him, tugging his hair up so both of your gazes could meet. And the almost drunken expression he has on makes you let out a shaky breath.

“later,” he drawls, his fingers tracing lazily along your sides.

Hero? Pftt, what hero? This is just your wriothesley, it's quite impossible for him to be the hero.

You snap out of your daydream when your colleague hands you a cup of coffee, he raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back awkwardly.

A sip of the coffee to get a bit of energy, but only just a bit, since too much caffeine makes you nervous.

“You filmed the crazy battle yesterday?” Your colleague sneaks from behind you, watching the video replay again on your camera.

“they do movies about them now, insane huh?”

“well atleast the hero knows he's popular.” You reply bluntly, taking anothsr sip from your hot beverage.

“flash news, someone heard that his name starts with the letter ‘W’ or som—”

You spit out your coffee all over your white attire. You both exchange surprised looks, but you quickly wipe your mouth using the back of your hand.

“where exactly did you hear that?” You get straight to the point, gesturing them to sit next to you.

“from my father's friend’s cousin sister.”

His reply makes your eyes twitch, from who and who?

“Okay…” you whisper, turning around and thinking of the utter nonsense they spouted.

“you don't believe me.” he sighed, “I've been telling this to everyone in the building but no one is believing me! Just tryna’ do my job here.”

Let's say maybe you believe him. But the dots are connecting too fast that you want to refuse from believing it.

Was your target closer to you than you had expected?

“I'm clocking out, can you cover for me today?” You inform your colleague, and he crosses his arms while eyeing you up and down.

Your roll your eyes, “I'll be the cameraman for next week. So you could get three days off.” You force a smile and they smile back enthusiastically.

Wriothesley is definitely home. Earlier than the usual time he'd be back.

Oh, he's asleep on the couch. Leaning back tiredly with an almost stern expression on, but his body seems relaxed.

Now is the time to do anything. Investigate? Go through his things without his permission? That sounded all awful… surely he's not hiding any—

“go search his things.” You furrow your eyebrows when the devil on your left shoulder speaks, it makes you rub your face in annoyance.

Then a sudden white little angel poofs on your right shoulder with a disappointed face, “no, don't do it. He's a little scary when he gets mad. But he'd never betray you!” you feel reassured at it's words and you nod in agreement.

“don't listen to it. He could hurt you if you keep it a secret.” The red devil whispers again and it makes you shiver a bit.

“he would never hurt you.” The angel frowns.

“yes he would, he's a man.”

“a good man.”

“yeah? You're no better than me, you just want that—”

“okay shut up both of you. Shoo.” You brush both of your shoulders off before taking a deep breath to brace yourself.

You'll just search his.. clothes.

You feel guilty once you pocket his jackets and pants in his side of the wardrobe, checking every hidden pocket thoroughly while glancing at the door once in a while to make sure he doesn't wake up.

As your fingers brush against his jacket, you notice an unusual sensation – a cool, metal feeling hidden underneath the fabric. Your eyes widen in surprise as you recognize it to be the form of a gun's handle. A mixture of curiosity and concern floods through you, freezing you in place.

It really is a gun. You study it carefully, turning it around and feeling it's heaviness in your palm.

But you feel your heart run out of your ribcage when two pairs of arms wrap tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Shit.

“hi,” he whispers next to your ear, but you're too nervous to even look back at him.

“nice thing you got there.” He muses, and you feel like you're losing oxygen once he tightens his grip around you even more.

“… i just found it.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. Your head hanging too low to avoid his eyes.

“Could've just asked me, no?” He clicks his tongue, almost in disappointment.

“i have it on me because—”

“because you use it for the good, right? Because you're the hero?” Your voice is shaky when you ask, the gun in your hand shaking with you, and you're afraid to drop it.

“hero?” Wriothesley repeats, shaking you gently awake and you gasp harshly, taking in big breaths, your boyfriend immediately trying to soothe you.

it was a dream.

“you were mumbling something about a hero in your sleep. Are you okay?” He asks in concern, brushing a strand off your face. You were sweating too much for your liking.

“when did i get here?” You look around, taking your palms to rub the sleepiness off. “Right when you got off work. You slept on the bed without changing your clothes.”

Oh… so you never checked his clothes. Deciding to just sleep instead.

Your head turns back to the wardrobe, staring at it intently. Could the jacket be in the same arrangement as you found it in your dream? Or will the gun also be there?

“you're going to poke a hole through it if you keep staring.” He stifles a laugh, and you couldn't help but try to smile as well. “Drink up. Slow sips.” He offers you a glass of water, and you hold the glass firmly in your hand.

“so… what was your dream about? Even this hero appears in your dreams? Can't say I'm not jealous.”

“You'll have grey hairs too early from overthinking.” You tease, sitting upright in bed, “oh no, you already do, old man.” you frown, tracing the grey strands along with his black hair. He watches in amusement.

Wriothesley lets out a deep sigh, “give your old man a break. They're a badge of wisdom and experience,” he rests his head on your lap, nuzzling close as you massage his scalp.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Breaking news: the ‘’lola” flower shop sets on fire just three hours ago. Our dear hero saves the day yet again, protecting the old lady just in time before her shop explodes. The cause of the fire is still unknown…”

Destruction out of nowhere again. Accidents out of nowhere again.

The voice of the newscaster on the television fades away in this little diner you're in. You drive your attention away from it, instead focusing now on the Polaroid pictures laid out infront of you.

The hero always wore a mask to cover his identity, obviously. But even after watching the countless of interviews he had, the deep tone slightly matches Wriothesley’s voice, or maybe he's changing his tone on purpose. You can see it by zooming in on the video, how he's catching his breath everytime he speaks when he's just sitting down.

Asthma? Nah.

You tap your fingers impatiently on the table, this is not helping at all, and the slightest itch in your brain worsens as the time goes by.

You think about giving up on this, but the possibility of finding the answer on how or why did all of this happen is probably closer to you than you think.

“Bad guys never end with their schemes. Bunch of attention seekers.” The hero speaks on the television, and you hum curiously as the hero salutes the camera playfully before disappearing from the crowd.

Is it possible that there are multiple heros? Working all together in some basement and taking turns to go out and do a better job than the police?

Possibly, and you write down your new theories down on your little notepad.

You check your phone next, Wriothesley still hasn't answered you back from your most recent text to him.

It's nothing to worry about, but the thought that he's busy saving the city is gnawing at you.

Batman?

You shake your head again, gathering your things to stand up from your seat. You should be blunt asking him about it tonight.

It's cold. Colder than usual. Was the air conditioning on? No. But the windows are sure wide open. You look around the living room before closing the windows and curtains from the outside world, as you draw the curtains, the outside world becomes obscured, leaving the room in a soft semi-darkness.

“Wriothesley, honey?” You call out softly, peeking through the bathroom, not there. The bedroom? Nope.

That leaves the kitchen, you slowly peek your head in he kitchen, and sure enough, he was there.

Wriothesley was rubbing his face in exhaustion while mumbling words under his breath that you can't quite hear. Having one singular glass of some drink in his hand.

“hero this.. hero that..” you finally listen to his mumbles, which makes you furrow your eyebrows together.

"Wrio...?" You call out softly, flipping the switch to turn on the light. His sharp eyes immediately dart up to look at you, and you can't help but shiver under his intense stare. You let out a small gasp of surprise as he suddenly stands up, the glass in his hand slipping from his grip and shattering on the ground along with its contents.

Taken aback by his sudden movement, you instinctively take a step back as he approaches you. But before you can even register what's happening, he crashes his lips against yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. Caught off guard, you cling tightly to him, desperately seeking support to prevent yourself from toppling over.

“You love me,” Wriothesley's voice breaks through the heated kiss, his words coming out in a low, guttural groan. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist. “right?” His voice holds a hint of vulnerability and desperation, as if seeking reassurance and affirmation of your feelings for him.

And when you don't answer him right away, he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently, “answer me.” He almost growls.

“love, what are you taking about? Are you drunk?” You ask breathlessly in concern, your lips feeling swollen.

His jaw clenches, “Why can't you say it?” he inhales your perfume, your scent filling him that it makes him groan, his mouth lavishing your neck and collarbone, leaving kisses and littering marks then soothing the area with his tongue that it makes your pant softly, pressing your face into his hair while your fingers weaving through his black-greyish strands.

“i love you,” you utter quietly, and it suddenly makes him start grinding his hardened length against you. “I'm sorry in advance, sweetheart.”

One minute you're confused about his words, and then the next he's pounding so hard into you like there was no tomorrow.

Strings of “don't leave me,” and “i love you’s,” are echoed in the air. Wriothesley's mouth moves against yours with a sense of urgency and haste, his tongue gliding and tangling with yours in a fervent dance. The bed creaks so loud underneath you that you think it might break anytime, the embarrassment of the headboard banging against the wall immediately gone once he hits your sweet spot rapidly.

Poor neighbors

"Wrio... Wriothesley?” you slowly flutter your eyes open, still in the hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, and you blink a few times as you take in your surroundings. A quiet sense of contentment washes over you as you remember the events of the night before, the memories of Wriothesley's body against yours and his lips on yours still fresh in your mind.

You prop yourself up using your elbows, only to look down at the sight of your sleeping lover with his head pressed up on your chest. You collapse back on the bed with a tired sigh.

You still couldn't understand the reasoning behind his.. desperate actions last night. He seemed so pent up and stressed, you'll forgive him this time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's the day where you're covering for your colleague, being the cameraman for tonight's news. Yes, tonight.

Wriothesley would kill you if he knew you were working so late at night, but only because he cares about your safety. Good thing he's out of the city for a day.

Or he claims to be out of the city for some important work.

You press the button on your video camera, adjusting the lens to focus on the newscaster standing in front of the camera, holding the microphone with a serious expression. The news van is parked in front of a desolate, run-down neighborhood known for its high crime rate and dangerous reputation. The newscaster speaks into the camera, her eyes boring into the lens as she reports on the neighborhood.

“We are now standing in the heart of one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This neighborhood is notorious for its high crime rate and volatile atmosphere.”

Your senses are heightened at this rate and you really try to focus but the moment you hear the faint crunch of leaves, you lose composure just a bit.

Okay you're a bit scared, but as long as your workmates are he—

a group of armed gang members suddenly appear from the alleyways between the buildings, surrounding the news van and the camera crew. The newscaster, taken off guard, gasps and steps back.

The gang members brandish their weapons, circling the news crew menacingly. One of them shouts at the newscaster, waving his gun in the air. “Hold it right there, pretty lady. This is our turf! You ain’t gonna be broadcasting nothing about us!”

You're about to shit your pants for real this time.

“Drop your cameras and get outta here, or things are gonna get real ugly real fast,” he growls, and one of them points the gun right on your camera.

“I'm talkin’ to you too.”

Yeah, you're not going to fight anyone and act all big. You simply drop the camera on the ground to raise your hands in the air.

As the gang members close in on the news crew, the atmosphere is suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement. Everyone turns to see a tall, muscular figure approaching from the distance.

It's the hero.

You watch in awe as the hero strides towards the group of armed gang members, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift swing of his fist, he lands a powerful punch on the leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other gang members are taken aback by his sudden appearance and the display of force, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. They exchange nervous looks, realizing they're facing a much stronger opponent than they anticipated.

“Hey, let's go!” Your workmate calls for your name. Her hand waving at you so you could all retreat back to the van.

And before you could follow, the van explodes.

The sudden explosion catches you off guard, jolting you out of your stupor. Shouting in surprise, you recoil from the loud blast, ducking instinctively as debris and fragments fly through the air. Your colleague, sitting next to you in the van, lets out a terrified yell as the force of the explosion propels the driver backward. The van shudders and lurches from the impact, the windows shattering and various objects sent flying.

“in the building! Let's go!” All three of you dash to protect yourselves inside this tall company building.

“I will call the police,”

“but the hero is here!” the driver of the van speaks, almost yelling in frustration.

“the hero is also a human. Just a strong one. We can't rely on him—” but before you could continue, you all cover your ears once you hear gunshots come from outside.

Ohmygosh. It’s—it could possibly be Wriothesley who's getting hurt right now. What are even the chances?!

“Fine! Just call the fucking police!” The driver gives up, leaning back against the wall while breathing heavily.

You want to go out there. You want to see. It's your chance to see who the hero is if he got hurt. Just to get the crumbs of news in exchange for your life apparently.

When it grows quiet, you peek outside, “it's clear, I'll take a look—”

“No, you're not.” her hand is firm as she grips your wrist, “just let them go.” He, on the other hand, scowls.

“Be safe!” She shouts at you as you make a run for it, running down the alleyway while looking left and right.

Someone's in the area.

You dart behind the nearby dumpster, heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. Hiding as best you can, you press yourself against the rough metal, trying to keep your breathing steady and quiet. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, you cautiously scan the surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of someone nearby. For now, the area seems to be clear, but you can't shake the feeling that someone is in the vicinity, lurking in the shadows.

“Where ya at, lil’ birdie?” You cover your mouth when you hear someone speak, it sends a chill down your spine and you can feel your heart drumming in your ears.

Your sharp eyes turn to your side to find a metal rod, you don't hesitate to grab it before smacking the shit out of the guy.

No that did not happen, but you wish it did.

Instead, the minute you see his feet pass the dumpster, with a swift movement, you grab hold of both of his ankles, using your weight and leverage to pull them out from under him. He lets out a pained shriek as he suddenly loses his balance and topples to the ground, his body hitting the pavement with a thud.

Alright, you can be cool sometimes.

Stepping at his hands to hear him cry again, you run put of the place, making turns and finally spotting the hero sitting down against the building wall while panting, seemingly exhausted.

“…” you take slow steps once you approach him, looking down at him with your eyes already glistening.

This is it, you just have to confirm it.

Your hand pulls at his mask, “Wrio—”

Huh?

This…

Is not

Wriothesley.

“Ah, what the fuck?” He grunts, the blonde grabbing the mask from your hands and you take a step back.

“Elias?!” You yell out in confusion, it's your colleague that you're covering for supposedly today's shoot.

“You're the hero??”

“not a word. Scram, you freak.” he mutters, eyes diverting away from you and staring up at the roof. “The roof,” he whispers to himself, making the effort to stand back at his knees.

Is this bitch serious? He's the last person you expected to be the hero. With his stupidly arrogant and lax attitude.

You give him an almost death stare, studying his features again before making your way out.

You need to check the other people that were with you.

But when you arrive back at the building, they were gone.

Did the police arrive? You don't hear any sirens. Could they have possibly went up on one of the floors to hide?

You find yourself in the elevator next, watching as the doors close with your hands clasped infront of you nervously.

You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and steady your nerves. Hey, at least there's nice elevator music.

As the elevator comes to a halt, the doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the rooftop and the figure standing in the open space.

There's a figure standing at the edge of the building, you can see the person's silhouette clearly now, but you can't make out their features just yet.

Your steps are hesitant as you slowly approach the figure, the wind gently billowing around you. The city lights twinkle below, but your attention is entirely focused on the person standing at the edge of the roof. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever may come, and call out tentatively, "Hello?”

Your voice rings in the air, that the person's shoulders tense.

When they look around, you're met by the same blue eyes you've known for three years now.

“Wriothesley.” You whisper, in shock, breathlessly under your breath.

He's holding.. a gun? The same gun you remember seeing in your dream.

Something in his mind snaps when you turn around, in fear. Like it was a mistake to ever see him in the first place.

Wriothesley doesn’t even give himself time to think before his body suddenly reacts, suddenly reaching out and circling his hand around your wrist to forcibly tug you back.

He yanks hard enough that you lose your balance and fall against him, his other arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.

“W-wrio—”

“think it's time we talk, sunshine.” He speak into your ear.

When you try to move the slightest from his hold, he grips you around him tighter. You figure it's best to stay still for now.

“what? Are you going to kidnap me now?” You manage to chuckle out, nervously though, your voice coming out more shaky than you intended to.

“Is that going to satisfy your little fantasy? What, I should play into it and shove you into a corner, keep you under my thumb until you’re begging me to set you free? Or no… you want to be saved by the hero.”

"You know you're not helping with your case, right? You really sound like the bad guy now.”

You’ve definitely found his breaking point because that comment makes him snap.

Wriothesley suddenly whirls you around so you’re facing him before he’s pinning you against the nearest wall, his body practically covering your own.

“Well…” He whisper, raising an eyebrow calmly in the way you look being at his mercy. “Aren’t I?”

Your jaw practically hangs at his words. Is he... Playing the bad guy now?

Or was he really… not the opposite of the hero?

He sees the shiver you try so hard to suppress and smirks at that, clearly satisfied with your reaction, “What’s wrong, sunshine? Finally realize that the man you’ve been dating isn’t the hero you've obsessing over?” He chuckles.

“i… i knew it—”

“You didn’t,” he says, his tone suddenly becoming cool and firm.

Wriothesley leans forward, pressing into you so that you’re smashed between him and the wall. His hand suddenly comes up, cupping your jaw so that he tilts your chin up to look directly into his eyes.

“If you’d known, you’d never have come within twenty feet of me. You’d never have been alone with me or spent a single night in our bed.”

He's right. And you hate it. You feel betrayed, lied to, even.

It makes you rethink your life choices.

You've gotten too comfortable with him that you didn't even think about him being the villian. You've gotten too close while you were being a complete idiot.

“you hid it.”

Wriothesley laughs, the sound almost sounding cold, “of course I hid it, sunshine. I wasn’t going to just come strutting in wearing a big, red sign saying ‘look at me, I’m a bad guy!’ was I?”

You clench your fists together, “you tricked me.”

“Tricked? No.” He shakes his head slightly. “I simply… left out key details.”

“Why?”

“ah, there it is.” He steps back, giving you space to breath, to recollect your thoughts.

“why? Because the hero isn't a hero. He started all of this destruction. Why? To get fame, recognition, power, and to be seen, to look like he's doing something when he's not.” He lets out all in one breath, and you lips part again.

“four years ago when the building almost fell on you? He did that, on purpose. then saved you to make it look like he's the one that everyone needs.”

What the hell?

“Wriothesley, we were strangers to each other four years ago. How did you know?” You don't hesitate to step closer to get more answers out of him, but he only stares at you.

You swallow thickly when he draws infront of you once again, “i did this all for you, love. I-i will do everything in my power to stop him, i will kill him so you wouldn't get hurt—”

“Okay, fucker. Out of my way,” Elias, the ’hero’, suddenly barks, and without warning, a gunshot rings out. The bullet pierces through Wriothesley's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stagger backwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the scene unfold. "Wriothesley!" you cry out, watching as he turns around despite the injury and charges towards Elias.

Despite the pain he must be in, Wriothesley doesn't relent. Ignoring the gunshot wound, he barrels towards Elias with unmatched determination, closing the distance between them.

"Bastard," Wriothesley manages to grit out as he collides with Elias, knocking him off his feet and sending them both crashing to the ground.

You don't hesitate to rush forward, with adrenaline fueling your actions, you move quickly towards them as they roll dangerously close to the edge of the roof.

"Stop!" you shout, your voice filled with desperation. "You'll fall!”

And surely enough, Your two hand clamps down on Wriothesley's, desperately grasping onto anything you can to prevent him from plunging off the edge.

Meanwhile, Elias grips Wriothesley's leg, using his strength to anchor him in place. The three of you hang there, suspended over the city, Wriothesley's body along with Elias’s dangling in the air.

“Sweetheart—”

“shut the fuck up I'm not letting go.” They're both too heavy, the feel of his fingers slipping away from yours increases everytime you try to pull them up.

Elias is purposely pulling Wriothesley's leg down to drop them both, your lips quiver, crying when two of his fingers slip now.

“hey,” his voice is soothing when he calls for you.

“at least… i protected you till the very end, right?” He tries smiling but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.

“i love you.”

“Wriothesley!”

…

“Wriothesley—!” You gasp harshly when you open your eyes so wide, finding that your hand was already reaching out for nothing.

You rest your hand on your chest before leaning back on your seat.

“are you okay?” The newscaster, the friend you made, offers you her handkerchief so you could swipe the sweat off your face.

“i think… continuesly searching about this, is making you stressed.” She points out, looking at the papers and drawings splayed out on your desk.

More theories of the disappearances of the hero and villian. Not their death. Their bodies were never found.

“it's been a year.”

The realization is like a punch to the gut as you bring a sweaty palm to rub at your temples.

“This is not over.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “We got no more trouble. No more heroic or bad guy news. The world is back to normal, almost like they never existed huh?”

Never existed.

She then suddenly gasps, which catches you off gaurd, “are engaged??” She eyes at the gem resting on your left ring finger.

The ring you found in one of his jacket pockets when you sorted his things out.

“yeah…” you decide to drawl out before sitting upright on your seat.

“now, if you'll excuse me, i got work to do.”

You're never going to stop searching, to find another answer of the question; 'why?'

Even if it will mean risking your life this time.

[kykyonthemoon]

How to take care of your on-period girlfriend

During that time of the month, you receive special treatment from him.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader

with Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne and Caleb.

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, pain & comfort

ಇ. Word count: 3k4

ಇ. Note: Some details in this fic are inspired by in game Tender Moments.

ಇ. Requested by Mỗi ngày nhặt một anh làm chồng and an anonymous reader on my ask box.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

In the middle of the night, you awoke with such discomfort in your lower belly and an aching feeling throughout your body. You knew it was that time of the month; in fact, it was a few days late due to recent work-related stress. You didn't expect to have your period today, so waking up at this hour with discomfort all over your body was quite uncomfortable to you.

Your hand found the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. Rafayel has left you several messages and missed calls. Perhaps you fell asleep without realizing it due to fatigue. You decided to get up and use the bathroom for a while. That's when you discovered you were missing what you needed most at home.

You grumbled and switched the phone screen back on. You were reluctant to disturb him at this time, especially because he was attending an exhibition in another city and you were not sure if he had returned yet. But you were upset and missed the times like this when he took care of you. Just before dialing his number, your phone rang.

"I've seen you online for a while. What's up? Can't sleep?"

Rafayel's voice rang out from the other end of the line, full of energy still. You just answered with a few short phrases, summarizing the current situation for him and told him that you were about to go out and get the necessary supplies.

"Just stay there." Rafayel stopped you. "Do not go anywhere. Wait for me."

You were a little confused why he had told you to stay home. But just now, you were too tired to have the strength to ask. Besides, you could not go out in this state, when you just wanted to faint on the floor.

You washed and changed into a new set of pajamas. Luckily, you found a spare sanitary pad left over in the closet that was sufficient for your needs. As soon as you got out of the bathroom, you heard the front door open. Rafayel appeared there, with a bunch of bags wrapped in both hands.

“How are you now? Does it still hurt?"

You shook your head, primarily to reassure him. But glancing at your pallid face, he knew you were lying. And you were taken aback when he arrived here, at this hour.

“Didn't you leave Linkon for the exhibition a few days ago?”

“That event was nothing special. I was on my way home when you called. I stopped to get you a few things before coming here.”

"Just a few things?" You gazed at the mound of items Rafayel had just purchased and set on the floor. "Why does it look like you bought everything in the store?"

Rafayel grinned at you. He softly aided you in getting down, leaning your back against the cushion and placing your feet on the couch. After that, he began taking out everything from those bags, which startled you a lot.

He had purchased you sanitary products in the form of pads, panties, tampons and even menstrual cups. One of each type and brand. There were also several pain relievers, vitamins and more. When he noticed your amazement, he said:

“Since I don't know which type you usually use, I bought one of each.”

Rafayel laughed. And you, even though your face was pale, felt so content due to his silliness.

“You could have just asked me.” You responded.

“I won't be able to see your surprised smile then. Since I've made you laugh, I must be a fantastic boyfriend, right?”

You slumped entirely back on the couch, still laughing but murmuring: "You must be a fantastic fool."

Lemurians' bodies are not like humans, you appreciated Rafayel's efforts to learn about your cycle and care for you in this manner. He plopped down on the couch next to you, lifted your legs and placed them on his lap. His slender hands rubbed them gently.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

You shook your head. “It doesn't hurt much. Just mild cramps.”

Rafayel nodded. He still remembered you often got cramps in your legs every time your period came. He continued massaging your legs before moving on to your tummy.

“What about this place?”

When your lower abdominal contractions resumed, you let out a tiny cry. Rafayel immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry… Did I hurt you?”

“I-It's okay…” You tried to smile. “I'll probably feel better after a good rest.”

Rafayel's expression shifted slightly. His hand returned to your lower abdomen, continuing to gently rub it. “There you go again. Just say you're hurt when you're in pain. No need to try to act strong in front of me. Did you forget about our agreement last month? Whenever you have your period and are so weak like this, I will become your bodyguard.”

In the lying position, you could see half of Rafayel's face illuminated in the warm glow of the nightlight. His eyes were both concentrated and kind as he continued to ease the pain in your stomach. Suddenly, you couldn't help but jab your finger into his face. He pouted and puffed out both cheeks. Just like a puffer fish.

“Okay, it's all my fault. Now I will let Rafayel take care of me without worrying that I'd bother you.”

"Good. Even though I don't know how to take care of humans, I guarantee you'll be satisfied!”

Rafayel joyfully grasped your hand and kissed the palm to make it less cold. He continued rubbing your abdomen, singing a melody that put you at peace.

“Get some sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, I will still be here, right next to you.”

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 

As a child, you imagined your knight arriving in shining armor on a white horse.

It turned out that your knight did not have a horse, but rather a white Hunter's uniform and a coat that he had just removed to wrap around your waist.

It happened when Xavier and you had just finished dealing with the Wanderers on the outskirts of Linkon City. Late at night, an unusual incident occurred. You hurriedly arrived to take on the task, unaware as that time of the month had come.

Perhaps you were too preoccupied with work to remember when your period would start. After finishing the task, you were dismayed to realize that the blood on your dress was not the blood of the Wanderers at all.

Xavier discovered it through your frightened eyes and trembling body. Immediately, he took off his coat, wrapped it around your waist to cover the blood stains, and even carried you a long way home on his back.

Your arms were wrapped around Xavier's neck, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. You felt so embarrassed to let him catch you in such a messy state. However, Xavier continued to soothe and console you. He said:

"It's not a problem at all. You don't need to be embarrassed about this very normal thing."

Even though it still did not feel right, you said nothing more. You were exhausted enough, and your aching body was screaming for a rest.

Xavier took you back to your apartment. You thanked him profusely and quickly went to take a shower. After that, sensing the silence outside, you assumed that Xavier had returned to his home. Unexpectedly, you caught a pack of painkillers on the table. Next to it was his phone.

You did not intend to peek, but because the phone screen was still on, you accidentally saw the content that Xavier was reading: How to take care of your girlfriend during her periods.

You chuckled to yourself. It turned out Xavier was learning how to take care of you. Then, his hand appeared out of nowhere to take the phone back.

“Are you done? Take your pill now."

Xavier gave you a cup of warm water. You smiled: "I thought you went home."

He slowly dropped himself into the seat next to you. “You are so hurt. How can I go home?”

"I'm alright. I'm going to sleep soon, tomorrow I'll feel better.”

Xavier did not seem to take your word for it. He grasped your hands.

“Aren't you going to be in pain for two or three days to a week?”

“Did you just read that on the internet?”

Xavier pondered for a time before nodding: “I... am not very familiar with these things. But I'll stay here until you feel better. Is that okay?"

You gave him a nod and a smile. Xavier got you a painkiller. After taking it he let you lean on the sofa, held your hands tightly, rubbed and breathed on them to bring some warmth.

After a while, your lower abdomen started to hurt. Xavier expressed concern as he noticed your expression:

“It hurts a lot, doesn't it? May I give you a massage?”

He waited for your approval with a nod before placing his hand on your tummy. He gently stroked it clockwise and inquired: "Is this better?"

You shook your head. One hand pointed to the lower abdomen, somewhat below where Xavier's hand was lying. “Here.”

“I see.”

Xavier's fingers went lower, causing you to flush slightly. Xavier said again:

“I only have two hands. One is warming your right hand, the other is massaging your belly. What should I do with your left hand?"

You gazed down at your hand. It wasn't chilly enough to warrant staying warm, but Xavier insisted on it. He also came up with a new idea:

“How about you put your left hand on me.”

You were astonished for a second. "Put it… on you?"

"Yes. Here..." Xavier raised his shirt slightly, showing his abdomen, and glanced at you with anticipation. You sheepishly placed your hand there, and he pulled his shirt down again. “Is it warm?”

You nodded, not sure what else to say. The warmth from his body made you feel heated within. Xavier proceeded to rub your hand and belly. Your hand, which had been put on his body for a short period of time, now became restless. It crept gently upward, to where you could feel his heartbeat quickening.

Xavier stared at you, considered for a time, then said nothing. Since he had let it slide, your hand glided down, past a layer of firm muscles, and then a bit further…

“If you continue to be so naughty, I'll get angry.”

Xavier leaned close to your ear and murmured, his tone irritated, but his gestures seemed to lean heavily on you.

Your fingers twitched slightly as you attentively watched Xavier's slightly furrowed expression. He went on to say: "When I'm angry, it will be quite terrifying. So be a good girl for me.”

Your hand, which was resting in Xavier's, was drawn to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses against it with heated breath. His eyes darkened somewhat; perhaps it was simply the light. You whispered an apology and returned your hand to its previous position. Xavier gazed at you with a small smile.

"If you're sleepy, just lean on me."

"Yes." You responded gently, placing your head on his shoulder and yawning loudly. No matter what the situation was, with him by your side, you would always be safe.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 

You were astonished when Zayne showed up at your door late at night after his shift. Seeing your pale and fragile appearance, he asked you to go to the bedroom for some rest. After faltering a few steps, you nearly collapsed to the floor.

Fortunately, Zayne's dominant arms caught you in time. With one quick movement, he lifted you up with ease.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

Zayne said, and you obediently followed. He carried you to your room, put you on the bed, and drew the blanket over you.

"Give me your hands." You placed your hands on his. Zayne stroked your hands briefly to warm them up before placing them beneath the blanket. "I will make you some tea. Remember to keep yourself warm."

You nodded sheepishly. Your eyes followed Zayne's wide back as it vanished beyond the bedroom door, and you wondered how he knew you were on your period.

You were not convinced this was a coincidence since Zayne prepared you a cup of jujube tea that he had brought with him. He used to give you that drink on days like this. He said it would make the pain less severe. And it was true.

"Drink this. Then eat the red dates, too."

Zayne handed you a cup of tea that he had just blown to cool down the heat. He sat down next to you on the bed. You ate a jujube, turned to look at him, and noticed his palm was already open in front of you.

“Spill it out here.” He said. You looked at him for a moment and then did what you were told. Zayne smiled with satisfaction, patted on your head, then took back the almost empty cup of tea from your hand to it on the night table.

“Feeling better?” Zayne inquired pleasantly as he assisted you in lying back on the bed. 

You smiled faintly and said:

“Just a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit better.”

He laughed at your childish behavior. “If it hurts too much, you'll have to go to the hospital.”

You frowned and shook your head vigorously.

“Don't want to? If so, you need to get a good night's sleep. When you wake up, you will definitely be better.”

You gently tugged on Zayne's arm, whispering: "So... Can I get special care from Dr. Zayne? That way I'll get better faster..."

He looked at you with smiling eyes then nodded. You shifted slightly to the opposite side of the bed, making room for him to lie next to you. He instructed. He said:

“Turn around. Then slightly bend your knees closer to your stomach.”

You did what he told you. Your back turned to him, and very soon, you felt the warmth from his body enveloping you.

Zayne embraced you from behind. One of his hands went under the pillow to lift your head up a bit, the other was placed on your stomach. His hand appeared to be large enough to cover your entire stomach. With a delicate touch, his hand began to travel in a circular rhythm on your lower belly.

At first, you felt ticklish and heated given the embarrassment caused by his touch. In addition, Zayne's steady breath was blowing on your hair from behind. He asked:

“Feeling better yet?”

"Yes." You replied softly. “Doctor Zayne's hand is so warm…”

You caught his quiet laughter. He pressed his body closer to you, while you just wanted to hide your face in the pillow. Then, you suddenly remembered what you had wanted to ask him just now:

“How did you know my period would start tonight? You even brought me tea.”

“Can you guess how?”

“Hmm… Let's see. You knew the exact date last month even though I didn't tell you about it... And the month before that too..."

Doctor Zayne allowed you to think about it for a minute. Zayne's knowledge of the days your menstrual cycle would start was most likely due to his perfect memory. Thinking about this, you turned around and his lips brushed your forehead.

"Eh…"

You froze for a second. Doctor Zayne gazed at you. He was so near that you forgot what you were about to say.

"You've got the answer yet?"

Your face became as crimson as the jujube tea. His breath danced over your cheeks as you responded:

“Um… I already knew the answer… Dr. Zayne is so busy, yet he still remembers my cycle?”

“I remember everything related to you.” Zayne spoke, his expression very serious and full of concern. You reluctantly turned aside.

"T-Thank you…"

You noticed Zayne's body pressing closer to yours. He buried his face in your hair and the nape of your neck, his hand continuing to rub your lower abdomen. He whispered:

“Get well soon. Although I hope that what makes you better is not painkillers or tea… but me…”

The corners of your mouth stretched out, smiling so widely that you could not close it. You grabbed his rough hand that was placed on your stomach and replied:

“Doctor Zayne has always been my elixir!”

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

The door to your room opened in the middle of the night, and Caleb emerged, blocking the entire entrance. He was holding a hot compress bag, a glass of milk, and sanitary pads.

"I'm here to rescue you, Pipsqueak."

Caleb turned on the nightlight to see your pale face and unkempt hair. You were writhing on the bed, in anguish from your period. You could only send him a text message with the strawberry emoji and a sobbing expression. He arrived at your bedside about five minutes later.

He assisted you up, gave you some painkillers, and then pressed the hot compress bag on your stomach. You frowned.

"Do you need to be so harsh with someone who is sick?"

"It's on you for not listening to me. Even though you knew you were about to start your period, you still had the urge to drink lots of cold drinks. You only listen to me when you're in pain?"

You grimaced and rolled over on the bed. Due to your sudden movement, you got cramps in your shoulder blades. You cried loudly for help. Caleb just sighed in helplessness. He helped you lie upright again and rubbed your shoulders.

“If I'm not here, who would you whine to?”

Since you knew Caleb was home, you texted him. However, you did not say anything after that. The anguish had utterly drained you. Caleb couldn't stand to torment you any longer after knowing about your situation. He leaned you on his lap and helped you sip your pain reliever and warm milk. The hand on your back kept rubbing you.

"Is it so painful? "Can you try to get some sleep?"

You replied by shaking your head. Caleb patted you some more. "Then I will stay here with you. Okay?"

This time you nodded. Caleb drew you closer. He removed the hot compress bag from your tummy and began rubbing it with his hand. All of a sudden, your childhood came back, when you had your period for the first time and Grandma was not home; there was only Caleb. Even though you had learnt in advance that all girls would have to go through her period every month, you were nevertheless terrified when it arrived. Fortunately, Caleb was by your side. He raced to get sanitary pads for you, poured hot tea, and helped you warm your hands and feet.

At that time, you were really timid. And perhaps from there you saw the differences between you and Caleb. Both of you were no longer innocent children. This unusual feeling also steadily grew since. 

"Lucky you're here…" You whispered, a hand softly tapped on Caleb's.

"Of course. I'm always by your side, pipsqueak." He responded, then lavished you with several delicate kisses on your hair.

"Caleb… Don't disappear, okay?"

Surprised, he said, "Where can I disappear to?I still have to comfort you with your favorite meals tomorrow."

"Tomorrow…" You instantly recalled having a date with Caleb at the amusement park. But this unexpected menstrual cycle ruined that plan. "I'm sorry…"

"No problem." Caleb stroked you on the head. “You can compensate me another day. For now, you just need to rest well.”

“But I still feel like it's my fault… It's been a while since you could have a day off, yet we can't go out…”

Caleb smiled gently. He tucked your loose hair behind your ear. When he looked into your eyes, he said:

“If you're bored, we can watch the series you like together tomorrow. Or play some games.”

Upon hearing that, your mood brightened a little. You loved spending with Caleb, whether it was a date outside or just hanging out at home. They all brought joy to you.

Caleb placed a kiss on your forehead. He went on:

“Don't think too much about it. Go to sleep now so you'll have the strength to bother me again tomorrow."

You laughed. Caleb was always such a teaser, but that was the reason why you were so happy around him.

Coaxing you for a while, when you started to fall into a deep sleep, Caleb whispered softly in your ear:

“Being able to come home and be with my pipsqueak, that's the best kind of vacation for me.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[valsdelulucorner]

He felt his stomach aching inside of him, it wasnt the nice type of ache like butterfly's in your stomach, it felt like something was trying to get out, clawing it's away at his insides. This couldn't happen again, he promised himself it wouldnt happen again, he vowed on his own life this situation would never even be given the chance to even happen again.

You were just laying there on the floor, there wasn't much blood thanks to your shirt absorbing most of it, but there was this massive, gaping hole in your chest, right over where your heart used to be. No.... no no no no no, NO!

This shouldn't of happened again, there was no way it could of... yet there you were, just laying on the floor while your face was drained of its colour. He practically teleported to your side, holding you close to his body while he screamed out for Lucifer, diavolo, anyone that might be able to help you. He didnt understand, you were supposed to be safe at rad, you had magic to protect you, how could this have happened....

Damp hands caressed your face as tears burned down his face, leaving fresh tear burns scaring his skin. His treasure, his human, his MC.... your blood stained his skin and designer clothing, normally he would be pissy about anything staining them but he just didnt care, you were more important to him then any designer item he owned.

He felt weak being in this position again, holding your limp body close to him while he tried to help you, but you were long gone. Desperate and painful cries filled the empty halls of rad, no one was coming to help

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mammon!" Lucifer yelled out as he shook mammons shoulders, making him shoot up from under the covers, breathing heavily while his face was stained with tears. Still dazed and half asleep, he was trying to figure out what was going on while his brothers stood in his room, most of them annoyed from being woken up from his screaming.

"Diavolo's sake mammon, it's too early to be awake right now" a very tired asmo pointed out as he held onto his nightgown, hair still tied up perfectly... it wasn't real? But, wheres MC? Everything felt off

"Mc..." "MC's asleep right now mammon, it's a miracle that they didnt wake up from your yelling" Lucifer grumbled out while he rubbed his own eyes, not being given enough time to register that mammon was already out of the door and sprinting down the halls, trying to find you.

It took a while for all of them to realize where mammon was going, heading after him after getting their footing. Getting to your door, lucifer was about to storm in to grab mammon but he hesitated, hearing soft sniffling coming from behind the door.

What he found was a mammon kneeling besides your bed, crying into your waist while you comforted him. You didnt seemed bothered at all by this sudden intrusion, you didnt even seem to notice Lucifer, your entire focus on the demon holding into you like a life line.

Lucifer just closed the door quietly, telling everyone to go back to their rooms while he headed up to his own, he knew mammon needed this right now.

".....it happened again..." he whispered into your neck, arms wrapped around your waist as he cuddled you in bed now, your hands gently rubbing up and down his back. "I know mams, I know" You didnt ask him about the nightmare, you never do and he appreciates that, he doesnt want to cry infront of you again. He just needs to be held right now.

Shifting positions in bed, he left you go back to sleep while he was spooning you. He remained awake for another hour or two after you fell back asleep, his hand sneaking up your shirt and resting it over your heart, reassuring him your still alive while your heart beat against his fingers. He needed that reassurance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I headcannon that demon tears are made of holy water so when they cry, it burns their skin and eyes lol

It's almost midnight and I'm doing this on my phone but I needed to write something to say I've been productive today lol

What should I do next?

[elliesbff]

“i need you.” — abby anderson

summary: abby's working out at the gym with more than working on her body on her mind. when she realises you're staring at her, there was only one goal in sight notes: nsfw, oral sex (abby! receiving) fingering (abby! receiving) slight dacryphilia, slight voyeurism? softdom!reader, sub!abby. enjoy! wc: 3,284 | tags: @starrywilliams my realest oomf

read pt 2 of " i need you " here!

abby was pumping it at the gym as per usual, with less than pure thoughts racing through her mind. she’s been feeling… weird. something she knew was bound to come sooner or later, but it’s been pushed to the back of her mind so far that she’d been oblivious to it until now.

you.

her patrol partner, but by this point, you guys were more than just ‘friends.’ she’d had deep, obsessive thoughts about you. ones she’s too embarrassed to talk aloud — ones where she feels weak at the knees just by thinking about it.

abby’s hand flex open and closed from a fist, grabbing onto the weighted bar she was laying underneath. she had to let off some steam or else these thoughts would nevertheless, totally consume her.

she picks the bar up with ease, her blood already flowing in a coursing stream from the millions of dirty things she wanted you to do to her. it was filthy, and she couldn’t help but let out a little groan thinking about what power you’d have over her strong, muscular figure.

how your soft fingers would trail over her arms in wonder, unbeknownst to you, it would be the only thing she’s thinking off at night when fucking herself off to the thought of you.

you’re gleaming eyes, ones she’d fantasised would stare her down as you’d pound into her cunt with your tongue.

and not-suprsingly, your thighs. she has a thing for those, especially yours. it’s something she’d wish you’d rub all over her own as your moans and whines would meld together to form one sickening melody.

abby kept her eyes on the ball, squeezing the bar as tight as she could manage while lifting the bar up and down.

“4…. 5…. 6….”

she huffed out in even yet laboured breaths. it wasn’t the workout that forced her out of breath, it was you.

you were now standing outside the glass walls across the gym, giving abby a curious look as you analysed her workout routine. your eyes grazed across her arms, how they were already dripping with sweat, and her reddening face from what you presumed was her laboured session.

little to your knowledge, she felt heated from you and your eyes forcing daggers through her throat, making breathing like a normal human a challenge.

“13….14….15….”

abby puffs out, letting the bar rest on the bench press. she sits up, wiping a gleam of sweat from her forehead as she averts your piercing gaze. it suddenly felt hotter than usual, not just with you staring at her, but her core. it felt fluttery, and all the more warm.

she couldn’t help but rub her thighs together to try and fight off that feeling, but it’d only made it grow stronger with each swipe of friction from her work-out shorts.

maybe that’s why you were staring.

how her ass perfectly fit within the fabric, and every time she’d squat with weights above her shoulders, it grew more pronounced than ever. it was enough to make you melt right into the concrete floor.

abby hurriedly picked up her waterbottle, taking a large group of sips from it before pulling away with a couple heaved breaths. she stood up right upon you entering the gym, knowing she can’t avoid you entirely, she shyly walks up to you.

“hey.. you in for today?” she asks, a lump beginning to form in her throat as you look up at her with those adorable beady eyes.

“yeah, i missed out yesterday from our patrol.. you leaving already?” you ask, lips curling into an indiscreet grin.

“ah yeah.. i’ve done my fair share of work, but i’ll catch you soon, yeah?” she reaches her hand out, presumably to pull you into a hug like she does with the rest of her mates. but you were irrevocably different.

“mhm, let me know if you ever wanna have a session with me.” abby pulls you closer, her hand almost wrapping around your waist entirely. it amazed you how she could do that.

abby nods, her cheeks flaring up as you flashed a smile. god you were so sweet. too sweet for her but she craves it.

she picks up the pace and heads out of the gym to her room. turning around all twists and corners, nooks and crannies until she makes it to her door.

her legs are squeezed together, she can already feel what’s about to happen as soon as those doors fly open.

—

abby, all heated and breathless, is laying on her bed. the sheets are all sprawled out in whichever direction, which she could care less about. her fingers are madly thrusting in and out of her seeping, needy hole, the only thing on her mind is the thought of you spreading her thighs and licking all around her cunt, lips and all.

her whines are muffled with her hand plastered over her lips, so desperately wanting to shout out to you, to call your name and have you tell her she’s taking you so well.

“mmfh.. c’mon..”

her eyes rolled to the back of her head, to the sides and closed shut as the friction caused by her fingers slamming into her was making her legs spasm. it was hard to keep going knowing you weren’t really there between her thighs and drinking up all her delicious juices, but it felt so real.

her whines grew needier, with strands of her dirty blonde locks sticking to her forehead with sweat. she took her calloused hand away from her mouth for a moment to palm her tits, letting her fingers twist and massage her nipples. she audibly whined, shutting her eyes tightly as to imagine you were the one touching her, making her feel so good.

her eyes began to well up with tears, drops of her pleasure trickling down her rosy cheeks as she moaned out your name. over, and over, and over,

“abby?”

her eyes fly open to see you standing beside her bed, with your arms crossed and an almost stunned expression on your face?

abby grabs at a pillow that was next to her head, pulling it close to her flushed body with the most mortified look painting her face.

“oh- oh my god-” she sheepishly mutters. her voice grows an inch of an octave as she nervously stutters to grab the scrunched up blanket instead to cover her large figure.

“i’m- oh my god, i’m so sorry-”

if she felt embarrassed before, she’d now experienced her life literally flashing before her eyes as you towered over her.

“abby.. were you..?” you trail off, trying to hide that smug look on your face with a hand.

“no, i.. no i wasn’t..”

she searches for an excuse, one that would be believable enough for you to entertain. but she knew you were smarter than that. you could see right through her, now more than ever.

“abby...” you almost coo at her, sitting beside her and placing a hand on her thigh. just because she was embarrassed and still trapped in a state of shock didn’t mean that she wasn’t actively feeling her liquids pool out of her at your touch.

“i’m so sorry, i don’t know what i was thinking-”

you cut her off.

“ ‘s nothing to be ashamed of.” you pronounce. your eyes are locked onto hers, although she’s desperately attempting to avoid you entirely. she wanted to skip to maybe 5 minutes ago when this whole thing started so she wouldn’t have gotten carried away and basically fucked herself to the thought of you.

abby remained silent.

“..what were you saying? ‘i need you?’ ” you directly quote, making abby’s lips quiver in shame. it felt so good in the moment but she hadn’t ever expected you to walk in on her.

abby doesn’t respond, the reality of her actions slowly washing over her, each wave bringing her a sense of shame. shame she wished she could undo at the snap of her slick-covered fingers.

the atmosphere grew tense with each beat of silence that passed them by, but you were less than disgusted.

“..y’know, i can maybe help you out, if you’d like?”

your needy hand lightly trailed up and down her thigh, making abby shiver with want. your face inches closer to her, but only proceeding if she agreed.

she keeps her head down, but you can feel she wants it, she’s just too embarrassed to say anything. abby’s thighs begin to discreetly rub against each other, her liquids generously covering her inner thighs. that was enough of a sign for you.

“just sit there and relax, don’t do anything except look pretty, m’kay?” you whisper, words laced with sincerity as you pulled her closer with your index finger and thumb.

"this okay?" you ask in a soft tone one final time, but abby can't contain herself anymore, her needy lips meeting yours with nothing short of a moan. your lips are immediately locked, lapping over each other like you hadn't been touched in years. you could both just feel the desperation from each other as abby cubed your cheek with her hand, the one she was just using to pleasure herself a moment ago.

abby moans once more whilst you deepen the kiss, swapping saliva and messily letting your tongues meld together. now you could only hope no one would walk in on you both this time.

you pull away for a breather as you placed her hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her to lay on the small bed.

"shh, let me do the work" you coo, placing a wet kiss to her throat, your mouth sparing no break at sucking on her sweet spot, earning a soft whine from abby. oh how pretty her moans were. they drifted so effortlessly through the air like the wind on a fresh summer morning. you could feel just how needy she was for you by the way her hand aimlessly massaged your back. your back shivered, her touch making you tingle in all the right spots.

you begin to make your way down to her chest, pulling the blanket away from her breathtaking figure. her tits were perked up, just for you. she turned her head away from you as you gawked at them. although you'd just caught a glimpse of them as you walked in, they looked more savoury up close. you immediately jump to kiss her sweet nipples that just begged for you to touch them. you lapped your tongue around them a couple times before sucking them, saliva perfectly coating her pretty buds. she dubiously let out a whimper, her cheeks growing rosier each second you spent eyeing her.

"please.." she muttered in a dragged whine, which caught your attention.

"please what? use your words baby," you pulled away for a second, your tongue slightly perking out from between your lips. teasing her, you flicked her tit erupting a whimper from abby.

"just.. please, fuck me." she whispered. you didn't feel the need to make her spend aloud as that was all you needed. you knew no bounds as you lowered yourself, passing her stomach, her waist and abdomen. thanks to abby, she was already undressed from the moment you walked in, so there was no need to undress her and waste time.

your eye were met with a pretty, lightly trimmed bush above the most irresistible pussy you've ver laid your eyes on. you swab a finger across her clit, passing by her lips and her hole that desperately clenched around nothing. how adorable.

"mmm, so wet.." you hummed at the sight. you breathed onto her skin, the warm air sending rounds of shivers up and down her spine that slightly arched off the bed. she let her hand gently grip onto your hair, although you haven't even worked your magic yet.

you run another finger across her pussy, picking up her liquids and playing with it, circling her needy hole wit her own juices. she squirmed, making you have to hold her down with your less than buff arms. this was going to be a journey.

"hold still baby, i haven't even started." you chuckled, to which she ran her fingers through your messed up locks. you let your tongue fall flat, swiping it along her folds. a quiet moan elicits from her parted lips, trying to contain herself and not let herself go instantly.

you begin to slowly lick at her bud, seeing just how sensitive she was as she squirmed at there touch. you held her in place, slithering your arms around her thighs and over your head. you pick up the pace suddenly, flicking your tongue at an even and steady pace. not too fast and not too slow, just enough for abby to grip a chunk of your hair into a fist and bucking her hips into your face.

abby was melting under your touch, almost every couple seconds she'd whimper quietly, and if you worked hard enough she'd even call your name in that pretty, sultry voice of hers. you wished you'd experienced this sooner.

your nose pokes at her bud while you let your tongue roam around her hole, licking at all her tasty juices like it was fresh, icy water. she whines,

"oh.. ohh..."

abby's eyes gradually develop a rim of tears below her lash line, a tear or two trickling down her freckled cheeks while you relentlessly lapped around her cunt. she bucked into you, giving you a full taste of her as you dove deeper into her trench. your grip on her thighs tightened each time sheared to squirm out of your touch.

"i'm- mfhm.." she kept her eyes on you the entire time, watching as you paid close attention to the area that needed you most. your eyes pull away from her cunt for a second, looking up at those equally as gorgeous eyes that fluttered open and tightly shut when you began to suckle at her clit. she began to shiver, her legs almost squeezing your head to pulp.

"im close.." she managed to say without letting a moan slip, her free hand slapping over her mouth as you continuously lap over her pretty pussy, her hips actively squirming away and bucking into you at the same time. it wasn't like you cared, since all that mattered was how abby was reacting to the way you constantly abused her engorged clit.

you pull away for a second, your head lifting from in between her soaked thighs as you leaned closer to her face.

"suck." you gently demanded before sticking two fingers out for her to have her fun with. you gave her a soft smile, admiring just how irresistible and perfect she looked in this moment, along with her messy braid which concocted of loose strands and hair sticking to her flushed face from sweat. her eyes remained half lidded as she grabbed your wrist with her hand, feeling her trembling when she takes you into her mouth. the warmth of her tongue makes you shiver with delight. she circles her tongue around you, in between your digits and your fingers as a whole. you don't push her in taking in the whole thing, letting her enjoy the feeling of you.

you pull out your fingers from her mouth, your thumb gently caressing her bottom lip in adoration. "good girl," you whisper voice soft as velvet as you lean in to give her a kiss on the lips. all she can do is smile back as you waste no time in diving back between her thighs, prodding at her hole whilst it clenched around nothing yet again.

she's filling up in a matter of seconds. you gently push a finger through, feeling her walls gently tighten around you. another moan escapes from her puffy lips as you circle around her clit that twitched just for you.

"just relax, abby. i know you can take it." you tell her, your words muffled by her hips bucking into you time and time again. your fingers seep deeper into her hole, already beginning to pull in and out at a steady pace. the combination of your swift tongue and your leisurely fingers was enough to make her sob with arousal. you worked her body so well.

abby mumbled curses under her breath as you incessantly began to suck on her clit. she squirms and grinds on your tongue to feel your tastebuds drag on her swollen bud. her moans grew louder with each passing moment, shivering like a helpless wet puppy.

you’re fingers picked up the pace, curling in spots she’d never experimented with before. she arches her back well off the mattress and whines, her gorgeous groans echoing through the spacious room.

“fuck- please, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.”

she’s close. you can tell from the way abby’s fingers interlock with your locks again, she pulls on it like the reigns of a horse, guiding you where she wants you. licking and sucking and rubbing along all the right places gets her thighs quivering besides your head.

you keep the same pace with your fingers, now evenly pushing them in and out. each thrust covers you fingers with more and more slick as abby moans one final time, her grip on your hair tightening. she pulls on it for you to halt, but you don’t stop.

“please- i can’t take more..”

“yes you can baby, you got one more in you. you got it.”

you whisper, still attacking her clit with your ravishing tongue that kept the same movements. you pushed in and out with your soaked fingers, making it easier to curl upwards and feel the insides of her intensely clenched walls.

she screams in a whine, her eyes welled with tears as she prepares for her second climax. it felt so good, so much better than her just fucking herself. and she knew if she ever got the chance with you, you’d take care of her so well

in a matter of moments, she cums again, back falling flat on the bed. her juices elegantly flow in waves out of her pussy when you slowly pull your fingers out. you’re never seen such a delicious sight. licking one final swab of her cunt, her cum laid generously on the tip of your tongue.

abby was such a mess. her hair sticking to her face and neck, eyes pink from crying, lips puffy from kissing. she’d never looked so beautiful.

“you did so well abby, took me so well.”

you plant a kiss on her forehead, too dazed for her to reciprocate.

all she does is moan in response, earning a chuckle out of you.

she mumbles felt so good under her breath as you pull away to get her cleaned up. wiping at her liquids that generously coated her thighs and her cunt.

“hmm, was that good?”

you asked, looking up at her chasmic blue eyes. she seemed deep in thought.

“better than i imagined.” she poked at their previous embarrassing encounter with each other.

“how long have you been… getting off to me?” you ask out of the blue, only realising how strange the question really was when abby gave you a surprised look.

“uh.. well, quite a while actually.” she responds after some time. it’s not a question people get asked often, so she didn’t really know what to say.

“mmhm..” you hum, letting your fingers roam around her chest. the blanket used to cover abby previously was now laid over you both as you rest from the heat of the moment.

“..can i have a turn?”

HELLO!!! this is the first thing i’ve properly written since like.. 2 yrs ago or smth LMAO. pls be nice cos i've never written for tlou before and wanted to captivate abby’s personality perfectly!! i hope you enjoyed!! and feedback is appreciated thank u ♡

[saccharinescorpion]

i've been debating on whether to post about this but what the hell, it's relevant both to today's episode and the topic of people trying to smooth over the flaws of Dungeon Meshi characters.... so, uh, remember what i said yesterday about Laios forgetting the basics of human decency when interacting with Izutsumi

i was intially worried about people reading this scene in uhh certain ways but was thankful to see most fans were chill with it... before i realized that. uh. maybe people were being a little too chill

okay............ so,

1. for the record: i believe that it is clear from what we know about him and what we know about the entire series as a whole that, yes, Laios didn't have "untoward" intentions towards Izutsumi in this scene. there's even an aside in Izutsumi's profile in the Adventurer's Bible that says as much. he likely saw it in basically the same way Falin did when she was observing the reproductive organs of the caterpillar in that one scene. FOR THE RECORD this excuse would basically never fly in real life, but for Laios, it actually honestly makes sense... he has a habit of ignoring people's boundaries, he gets ahead of himself when it comes to learning about monsters... he didn't have bad intentions, no, but it doesn't change the fact that he's an adult man (not a [my face contorts with a great pain] "curious boy") who was being really invasive about a teenage girl's body. it was weird. it was 100% weird, lmao, i don't think fans are "lacking media literacy" by saying "uh yeah that was kind of creepy and inappropriate of Laios"

2. and i also don't think it's villifying ND people to say that. if i were to be honest, i would argue the whole "he's just a curious boy :(" thing is a lot more offensive to neurodivergent people. Laios clearly knows about the concept of bodily autonomy- he felt weird and bad about touching Marcille and Senshi in "intimate" ways just to heal them. literally one scene after this one he expresses embarassment about accidentally touching the leg of (who he thinks to be) Marcille. he very obviously possesses the capacity to understand why it would be inappropriate to observe a stranger's body like they were an animal. i can accept the explanation that his monster curiosity temporarily overpowered his "oh actually maybe i shouldn't try to get up close and person with this teenager who i literally just met," but that doesn't change that he had to be restrained from doing that. i'm not even saying he's a "bad person" or anything because of this scene- i just am baffled at the idea of fans being presented with the slightest bit of messiness (he was creepy to a young girl, however unintentionally) and jumping to try and "justify" it (he's just silly, he's socially awkward, he's autistic, he's a Curious Boy) and even mock others who rightfully point out that that was uncomfortable behavior. Laios was creepy to Izutsumi. he didn't mean to, but he did (and to be quite frank he was lucky to get off with a smack from Chilchuck and a blindfold)

3. "I would also ask" excuse me?

[marimoscorner]

Consumerism & Witchcraft

Written by Marimo (he/they)🌿

I’ve seen a turn for the better in some witchy spaces regarding consumerism in the past few years, but overall it still tends to be an issue for us as a community. I’ve decided to try and breakdown the pitfalls I’ve noticed in my own journey, in the hopes that it will inspire and assist others. I’ve also provided alternatives and ideas on how to make small changes in our practice to help us better protect the Earth, stick it to the failing system and still acquire our bits and bobs we love so dearly.

As always, I am no authority on any subject nor am I perfect—but we’re all learning as we go, so let’s dive right in 🌿

A Preface

There are some things that should be made entirely clear before we begin:

You are not a bad person for wanting an aesthetic

You are not a bad person for unknowingly falling into pitfalls. Only if you continue to purposefully do so after knowing better

You are not a bad person for consuming content/objects or for not always making the most sustainable decisions. At the end of the day, we can only control our small part of environmental impact, while the rest is left up to the major corporations that make more pollution than any of us ever will

You are only human. Show yourself some grace and understanding that the internet so lacks.

My Experience in Consumerist Hell

I have fallen victim many times to consumerism in witchcraft. Starting my journey at the ripe age of about ten years old and heavily in the broom closet, I was quickly drawn in by the shiny rocks, the brand new candles and scents, the promise of new tarot decks and pendulums and other fancy, shiny new equipment. I was consuming an online aesthetic along with my ideals, and it distracted me from starting my journey by learning well.

I began to spend my birthday and holiday money on the aesthetic of things. While, granted, I still did buy a few literary resources now and again from my local secondhand bookstore—I was stubbornly ignoring the sage advice to learn and understand first before diving in headfirst.

I purchased statues, crystals, too many tarot decks to use. I purchased osteomancy bones I later returned to the earth, for I had not done enough research to know that that animal was mine to practice with. I had a tankard full of incense sticks, and even a growing pile of books that would not be read. While I liked to consider myself crafty with my homemade Maypole and various hand-bound Grimoires, something was becoming apparent: this was all a distraction.

The aesthetic I was partaking in was providing me with a false sense of progress and practicality.

When I’d go to do a tarot reading, I’d become far too overwhelmed with choosing a deck to read in the first place. When making an offering to a deity, I’d feel pressured to also bolster the altars of all the other deities I’d set up, and with my wide pool, the connections felt muddy. Often times I’d be off-put on a project or spell because I knew I needed to film it and it needed to look nice.

In the long term, I don’t have many of these items today. I’ve sold and donated a vast breadth of them. Feeling overwhelmed costed me a few years retreat from my craft to recuperate. However, what has stuck with me is the knowledge I picked up along the way.

So, What’s the Issue? TL;DR

I’ve noticed a few issues here in making these mistakes myself.

Consumerism absolutely distracts you from learning and your craft

Overconsumption leads to environmental damage. If everyone hoarded supplies, there would not be enough to go around. And with what gets thrown away every year…it paints an ugly wound on the Earth

We damage our learning abilities by not allowing ourselves to be anything less than perfect

The need for aesthetic creates barriers to entry within the community and creates a divide of haves and have-nots

You won’t be able to truly follow your individual path if you are only consuming and not creating for yourself

Consumerist culture promotes appropriation. Metaphysical stores carry items from closed practices (such as white sage and palo santo, or coyote bones) because someone is buying them. Don’t be that person, and find alternatives relating to your own culture instead

Consumerism can influence your spiritual decisions based upon monetary inclinations (where some may sacrifice a quality ingredient over a higher quantity of a lower quality ingredient)

So, what can we do?

Firstly, I want to clarify that I am not against collecting, nor am I against maximalism or the beautiful visual aesthetic we carry as a community.

I am an artist a very visual person and understand the longing for a beautiful home and workspace. However, this aesthetic shouldn’t come at the cost of irresponsibly harming the Earth or another community.

Thus, I’ve compiled a list of small things that I will be incorporating into my practice to make it more mindful and sustainable. I hope that you’ll join me in a few of them.

Minimize Supplies. While I used to have a huge selection of stationary for my Grimoire, I now limit myself to a simple pencil and watercolor set if I’m feeling artistic. This helps me actually use my Grimoire for study, rather than to keep perfect. It’s also friendlier on my wallet!

Thrift Supplies. There are plenty of perfectly good items that get donated daily. You can get high-quality candles and holders, old crystal bowls for altar offerings, spare crafting supplies, fabric for alter cloths and even clothing if you so wish—all for a fraction of the cost new and while saving the planet just a little bit more. Hell, you can sometimes even find good silver!

Share Supplies with your Community. You can create a sort of barter system with other witches in your area. Perhaps you create a sigil for them, and they provide you with a candle spell. Play to your strengths and grow together!

Look for Creative Outlets. Do you really need to go buy an altar statue that’s been mass-produced? Or can you give your deity the personal gift of a drawing, painting or even hand-modeled or hand-carved rendition? This will also deepen your connection to your craft and your magic, and make it more meaningful and stronger. If you really like something, though, go for it!

If you aren’t the artistic sort, consider supporting an artist before going to a large company. While I haven’t purchased from them myself, Blagowood on Etsy has beautiful deity statues carved from wood by their small team in Ukraine for a comparable cost to the standard mass produced metal statues. I consider this extra labor of love going into these pieces and those of similar small companies to be much better energy for my practice. I myself may put out some art prints and other handmade supplies in the future, but I will likely spread them around my community first.

Try Secondhand Books. While not available in every area and further still not as available for witchcraft and occult books, you may strike luck! Not only are secondhand books less expensive, but you’ll be supporting a local business. That’s not to say you can’t buy firsthand books, but some searching around may be beneficial to the earth and to your wallet in the long run.

Be mindful of where you source supplies and decor. If you are a fan of taxidermy decor, make sure that you source cruelty free. Bats can practically never be sourced without cruelty, so if a shop carries them, I’d be mindful of their other specimens. The same goes for if a shop decides to forgo a culture’s wishes and carry supplies sacred to them, such as white sage or dreamcatchers. Supporting folks who turn a profit off of others’ suffering is not something many would wish to include energetically in their craft.

Search the Wild for Tools. Find sticks, flowers and other plants out in the forest. Learn how to rockhound in your area for crystals. Your craft will be more powerful the more connected it is to the land you are surrounded by. Be sure to reference guides for safety and legality!

Get Creative with Purposes. If you are having difficulty finding exactly what you need by thrifting or searching, make another tool multipurpose if it would do the job good enough. Find supplies that are easy to source and work as substitutes for other ingredients (ex. Quartz as a stand in for other stones)

Spend more time Doing. Go out into the woods (safely) and advance your connection to the earth instead of worrying over the perfect item for your collection. Your craft will benefit

At the end of the day, all of this is your decision. Take what you like, and leave what you don’t. Even if we don’t agree, I thank you for your time and open mind. I will continue updating about how I incorporate these steps, and I will also hopefully post more on witchy crafting in the future.

I wish you well, and hope you’ll decide to follow along on our journey!

[pastabaguette]

sorry for all the posts today, but this one is very important: alternian video game edits.

i actually have reasonings for all of their blood types, and a few classpects, so i'll dive into them here:

monika: i'm thinking that early in the game, during acts 1 and 2, she maybe masqueraded as a jadeblood or higher. only during act 3 does she reveal herself as a fuchsia to the protagonist.

gordon and alyx: gordon is probably a tealblood, or somewhere around there. fairly high, but not too high, i think. alyx is an olive, and eli is an indigo. azian was probably a gold. (or lime?) i did have to keep gordon’s orange HEV suit, though. surely you understand. okay, troll half life lore: i think on alternia, all the main characters in the half life franchise are like, olive or above. the rebels in follow freeman and the guards are all lowbloods, so that the player doesn't feel too bad about sacrificing them, or something like that. i think this would be something that would happen in an alternian video game, at least.

agent 47: 47 is actually a mutant, due to being manufactured in a lab. he's a weird ice-blue color. he's still got that piercing stare. i felt a little sad changing his iconic red tie, but i do have some thoughts on that as well. obviously, red in human culture tends to symbolize passion, among other things, and in this case, violence and aggression, because it's the color of blood. however, because trolls all have different blood colors, i think they might have different meanings attached to colors than humans typically do. i think that typically, the colors that would most commonly represent aggression in alternian culture would be blue (cobalt and indigo) and purple. now, i know that the sea dwellers exist, but since the vast majority of trolls are lowbloods, they would have a lot more contact with the land-dwelling highbloods, rather than the fish. so, 47’s tie is blue. (i also just think it looks cool matching his eyes)

chell: I made chell a bronzeblood. she’s a test subject, but not one of the special ones (astronauts, olympians, etc). she’s just another lab rat. (also, a lot of her outfit is orange…)

now for classpects! i only have two i’m sure of as of now:

gordon freeman is an heir of hope. this one is fairly obvious to me. a common belief is that heirs have the ability to become their aspect, in a way. in half life 2, gordon quickly becomes the main symbol of the resistance on earth. for the rebels, he himself IS hope.

agent 47 is a prince of life. again, it’s a common interpretation that princes are themselves void of their aspect, and they destroy that aspect in others. this is really literal, obviously, but as a hitman, 47 kills people. literally destroying life. as for his own lack of life in himself, it’s pretty simple as well. 47 is almost always described as entirely void of emotion and empathy. others often remark on his soulless stare, a lack of life behind his eyes. so, as a prince, he fulfills both criteria there.

holy hell, that was a lot of words. i didn’t intend to talk this much. feel free to add your own thoughts; i’d like to hear what others think. these descriptions were a bit rushed, and i don’t really consider myself to be very good at communicating my thoughts, so a lot of things may have been lost in translation. i’d be happy to try and elaborate on my reasonings for any of them.

(oh, also, please no alyx spoilers. i haven’t played it yet!)

[charmedreincarnation]

When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.

Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.

I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.

I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.

I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.

I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.

I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.

This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!

The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.

I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.

My advice?

Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!

I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.

You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.

And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.

More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

would you like to tell us about your research on virginity?

but also...wdym STIs aren't as scary as we think??? I was told most of them are incurable? I know you can make aids untrasmittable and that they've even succeded in curing it a couple times but that's about it. I would love to be educated about this

yeah, the basic idea with the virginity project was that the whole concept of virginity is pretty bullshit in the context in which it was initially significant, namely cisgender women being penetrated by cisgender men, so as soon as you take it outside of that context by introducing gay and trans sexuality it totally falls apart. I mean, hell, it stops working if you even look at two cishet people doing literally anything OTHER than penis-in-vagina sex. I tripped up so many people initially when I started asking questions like "okay, so you don't think a woman loses her virginity from a man going down on her. so what if it's two women? what's the difference?" and just really getting people to face down their very penis-centered view of the sex, to the result of several people telling me that it kind of made them reevaluate what they actually think of as the first time they had sex. it's also fascinating to either read other people's accounts or discuss firsthand how queer people have either tried to make themselves fit into the binary of virginity - queer man disagreeing over whether or not you have to have penetrative anal sex to lose your virginity or oral sex is sufficient, a fascinating case of a lesbian who felt that have sex with other cis women didn't "count" and asked a cis male friend to have sex with her just so she could feel satisfied that she'd lost her virginity - or abandon it entirely. Hanne Blank's book Virgin was a formative starting point, and it really exploded for me from there.

as for the STIs - hey, bad news! you fell victim to the scare tactics used to make people afraid of sex! almost all sexually transmitted infections are very easy to treat and cure with the right medicine, which is why it's important to get tested regularly and check in with your healthcare provider at the first sign of something amiss. pubic lice, scabies, trichomoniasis, gonorrhea, chlamydia, syphilis - all of those are pretty easy to get rid of with some help from your doctor and a run to the pharmacy!

the major exceptions are the 4 H's: herpes, HIV, HPV, and hepatitis B.

herpes is with you forever but is an incredibly mild companion to share your body with, considering most people never experience any notable symptoms and those who do can curb the severity with medicine.

it's also worth noting that herpes is so common as to be virtually ubiquitous; the World Health Organization consistently estimates that somewhere around 80% of the world's adult population is carrying herpes simplex virus 1 or herpes simplex virus 2. a great deal of those people don't even get it from having sex, but rather by catching HSV-1 from a parent or other people they come is close contact with as a child.

you're actually thinking of HIV (human immunodeficiency virus) when you mention AIDS becoming untransmittable, but that's still a very good thing! the care available for people with HIV has come incredibly far since AIDS first became known and claimed so many lives, and today it's more than possible for people infected with HIV to live long, healthy lives by taking the proper medication to manage their viral load.

with management, people with HIV will not develop AIDS (which happens when the immune system is sufficiently depleted by HIV) and by consistently taking their medication people with HIV can become undetectable (the viral load in their body is too small to be detected or measured in tests), at which point they are unable to transmit the virus to other people.

HPV (human paillomavirus) comes in many different strains, most of which are absolutely harmless and go away on their own after a couple of months or years of freeloading in your body. I cannot emphasize this enough: HPV is so common that virtually everyone who has sex has, will have, or has had it in their lives, and the vast, VAST majority of those people will never be troubled by it literally at all.

the trouble comes from a few strains of HPV that can cause genital warts, and a few others that can cause cancers in the throat, anus, cervix, vulva, vagina, and penis. while HPV can't be treated, you can reduce your risk of developing cancer by getting the HPV vaccine if you haven't already and, if you have a cervix, getting regular Pap smears to catch early warning signs of cancerous developments.

hepatitis B is a viral infection that targets the liver. in rare cases it can cause chronic health problems that can be very dangerous, but I have to emphasize that's not common. in most adults who get hep B, there will be no symptoms and it will resolve itself in a matter of weeks. the infection is riskiest in children, but at least in America most people have received vaccines against hepatitis B as babies since the 90s.

in conclusion: get your shots, take your medicine, use protection, get tested, and talk to your doctor, but know that if there's one thing humans are good at it's figuring out how to manage STIs. we've been doing it for a long time - most sexually transmitted infections and parasites have been with us since before we we became modern humans - so we're really good at it!

[sixosix]

PLASTIC FLOWERS | LYNEY

i. summary the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader

ii. tags 1.8k words, fluff, reader is a little slow but hey that’s what 9-to-5 does to someone, pining lyney, awkward flirting, and a lot of wilted flowers im sorry…

You’ve heard of Lyney and Lynette in passing before. You might’ve rushed past one of their street performances once or twice, or maybe you stumbled upon flyers promoting their grand shows fluttering past. However, today, they are the center of every discussion, particularly Lyney, from your gushing coworkers. They swoon about how charming the young man was to them, and how exceptionally talented twins are.

You start to feel a little left out. You want to witness what all the excitement is all about, too. Your nine-to-five has you rushing back and forth the streets of Fontaine like there’s no tomorrow—and to your defense, with all the rumors and prophecies floating around, it might as well be that case.

Afternoon. Nearly evening. Your legs feel like water, liquid, and unable to keep themselves upright. You’re like a zombie walking back to your humble abode, drained of human life from too much human interaction.

A round of applause has you slowing your steps, your attention pulled towards a small crowd as if struck by a magnetic force.

A young man stands at the center, grinning devilishly as the crowd once again erupts into gasps of awe. He clutches a deck of cards in his hand, the classic image of what comes to mind when you think of magicians. Yet, you find yourself unable to move. It might be your water-legs; it might be how the man has everyone spellbound.

“Thank you, everyone!” he says, and the spell is broken at once. Was it a spell? It felt like one. “Be sure to come next week to Lynette and I’s performance at the Opera Epiclese, alright?” So he is Lyney.

Witnessing his elegance and heart-stealing smirk, you at least now know that your coworkers were certainly telling the truth.

The crowd filters out one by one. You do the same, wondering how much the tickets would cost. Hopefully no more than your usual dinner; that would mean you’d have to eat frozen bread for an entire evening.

“Wait, wait!”

You turn at the frantic exclamation, startled when Lyney is looking directly at you and rushing toward you. Panicked, you quickly scan your surroundings, only to find that there’s no one else he could possibly be referring to.

Just you.

“Hello,” you murmur begrudgingly once he’s at a close distance.

“Hi,” he says back, a little breathless. “You missed the show earlier.”

“I—I did.” Is he seriously talking to you? “But don’t worry! I saw enough. It was really cool!” Really? It was really cool?

He relaxes, his smile turning pleased. Lyney’s gaze feels heavy when you’re the only one holding onto it. “That’s a shame. I’ve seen you around before, zipping through. I won’t let you slip through my fingers this time around.”

His voice is smooth. You find yourself liking the lilac of his eyes.

At your stunned silence, Lyney continues, “Here, watch my hand closely, alright?”

You nod obediently, mostly to conceal how flustered his presence is making you feel. It feels as if his voice is right beside your ears, or it might just be how it seems like the world quiets down for this moment.

He closes his palm. You hear him huff a sweet laugh. You get distracted and glance up, though it seems it was a mistake. He grins at you knowingly, eyes twinkling—his stupid, dark eyes. You look back down, and a flower has magically appeared square on his palm.

It’s a flower you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s beautiful and smells sweet so you find yourself uncaring of whatever it could mean.

He stares patiently.

You blink, dumb-struck. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says with a dazzling grin.

“Oh, thank you, but I— I really don’t know how to take care of these things, and I’m so busy, I don’t know if I should—”

You reject it. Which, in hindsight, was most rude.

Lyney tilts his head, smiling like you’re some cute cat he found passing by—and that gaze has your words dying on your tongue. “I’m not giving it to you for you to feel burdened with the responsibility of taking care of it. Trust me, I just want you to have it.”

You look at him, uncertainty flashing in your expression. “You don’t want to give it to someone else…?”

“Why would I? I saved this one especially for you,” the sweet talker says.

You highly doubt his words, but it’s nice to hear nevertheless. With a bashful smile, you take the flower and vow to yourself to take care of it as much as you can. It’s the only flower you’ve received your entire life.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He lights up impossibly, standing out so easily against the crowd. Just like that, you’re captivated.

The next day, Lyney reappears in your life. You're beginning to suspect that his hat conceals an infinite stockpile of these roses, and maybe that's the true magic: the enigma of Lyney's never-ending supply.

This time around, he’s loitering the streets without plans for any performances, however small. Though, he still entertains you in different ways.

“My work’s not too nice,” you tell him when he asks why you look tired, all too aware of your sore feet and cheeks from straining smiles all day. “I don’t know how you performers do it non-stop. I feel like I could just sleep on this sidewalk.”

“It might be helping that I love doing what I do,” Lyney supplies after a thoughtful hum. It’s still a little surreal having the man printed in posters and pictures all over The Steambird is now casually walking alongside you, but it’s nice. You feel your world has just brightened up a little—the new change of pace painting over the dull back and forth you’ve been living through for a while.

“Hey,” Lyney starts, as your eyes flick up from the ground to him. He’s holding another flower.

You smile as you gingerly take it from his fingers, skin brushing against his glove-free hands. “You’re helping the flower shops thrive, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say? I’m wonderful like that.”

You laugh, but it quickly dies down when you catch a glimpse of how Lyney is staring at you so openly with a bit of awe.

You clear your throat, looking away.

Lyney does the same as you find your face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Um,” scrambling for a change of topic, you say, “Are you trying to get me to watch the show you and your sister are holding next week?”

“What?” Lyney blinks, caught off guard. He smiles lopsidedly as you await for an answer. “No, I’m talking to you because I like you. And here I thought I was making myself obvious.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit slow,” you say, in a daze at his blunt confession.

That was nothing (that has to be). That was probably just your imagination, honestly—fantasizing about a handsome face, a small braid, and a mischievous grin. And you definitely don’t find yourself lying awake at night thinking about it.

As always, Lyney comes with a flower in hand. And you find out that he wasn’t lying when he said he saves a special flower for you.

You’re not sure how it seamlessly became a routine with him. At times, you wonder if he’s actually keeping track of the roses if you haven’t been throwing them to the trash. You wouldn't be able to deny it; you eventually would have to discard a once again graying rose, no matter how heartbreaking the parting is.

This time, you’re prepared. You've been studying up, like a lovesick high school student devouring dating magazines during your spare moments at work. The rose will still most likely wilt unfairly fast with how you’re barely a presence in your own home; sleeping soundly as soon as you arrive.

Lyney is smiling softly as he gives this one to you, silent. Though that’s probably because you’re raving on about how you swear that the next ones he’ll give will live longer if you figure out how to do it right.

He likes doing that—staring at you like watching a film play even though he’s the one on stage more often than not.

“Do you know what all those flowers I gave you mean?” he asks as you’re twirling it around and counting the petals. They’re still bright pink, fading to yellow at its tips. You shake your head. It could mean anything, really. You haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet. “My feelings for you,” he says. “I give them to you every day so you’re reminded of it.”

Your finger catches on one of the petals, your skin burning. “…Is that what you think? I feel horrible; the flowers you’ve given me all die in a day or two.”

Lyney laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“How else can I show you I’m not just casting your feelings aside?”

You turn to Lyney, wondering why he suddenly went silent. Only then, you see how he has his face buried in his palm, a dazed smile peeking out from what’s visible. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“...Sorry.”

He recovers fast. “Don’t be sorry.” Lyney holds your jaw in a precise grip, keeping your gaze focused on him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s only the next morning do you realize that the petals haven’t changed at all. You’re not sure why you haven’t noticed earlier.

Then again, you should’ve realized when he brought up what they mean so suddenly, that slick bastard.

Lyney sees you around the afternoon, and immediately he sees something new around your collar, probably because he keeps staring at it.

Lyney pulls you closer with a hand on the small of your back, and the other inspecting your brand-new necklace. “Is this…?”

It was a bit difficult to craft your own accessory, but you tried nevertheless. If Lyney goes out of his way to purchase different kinds of flowers, the least you can do is show him that each one makes you as happy as the first one did.

“You said they’re kind of like your feelings, right?” you say, unsure as to why you’re whispering. Lyney’s expression looks a little fragile. “So I made them into something to remind me of you every day.”

He presses his face onto your neck, and you nearly lose balance, holding onto the back of his head to keep yourself upright. “You’re too cute, amour. My heart can’t handle all of this,” he weeps dramatically.

( “Close your mouth, Lyney. You’re drooling,” Lynette says as she follows his gaze, watching you flutter past.

Lyney’s mouth snaps shut, wiping at his lips. He frowns. “I wasn’t even drooling.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that—do you know who that was?”

“No,” Lynette says simply. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to figure out eventually.” )

lyney went back to giving you real flowers after that btw

this was inspired by me daydreaming about lyney’s character quest and remembering that he literally gave us that flower accessory

[justauthoring]

your hand feels nice in mine.

requested! -> hii loved your natsu fic! 🤭 i’m glad that fairy tail content is coming back. i wanna request something similar w gray.. maybe it’s a hot day n he helps reader

a/n -> honestly it was not my intention to write for fairy tail today... but writing that natsu drabble was so fun and i can't help it im in a fair tail mood lol. also, for the sake of it, let's pretty juvia hasn't joined the guild yet okay?

pairing -> gray fullbuster x f!reader

it was far too hot.

ridiculously hot.

really, it shouldn't even be humanely possible for it to be this hot. hot enough that you were sweating profusely, it building up on your forehead and leaving you feeling gross and sticky. you were thirsty and your movements felt luggish, as if you might just pass out on the spot.

clearly, the universe had something against you because this was starting to feel like a personal attack.

your eyes flicker to your teammate who seems all too unaffected by the heat; which, yes, to be fair was to be expected. gray was an ice wizard and you knew he ran cold, so obviously this heat wasn't impacting him as much. he looked somewhat warm, you guessed, a small build up of sweat lining his forehead.

but he wasn't dragging his feet and he didn't look flushed or uncomfortable. nothing like you at least.

walking ahead of you, gray looks perfectly fine which, unfortunately, is just irritating you more. how was it fair that he was fine while you were practically dying?

"dumb ice wizard with your stupid ice powers and cooling abilities," you mumble to yourself, grouchy and annoyed.

you just wanted this mission to be over but it was looking like you were going to be stuck on this island for a while longer if the fact that you guys hadn't even found your clients target yet was anything to go by. the rest of team natsu had split up in search of them; natsu and happy with lucy and erza with carla and wendy.

which left you with the stupid, unbothered and cool gray.

truthfully, you're not even sure how you're going to even be able fight the damn target when you do reach them because it was so hot!

"are you okay?"

if he hadn't spoken, you would've ended up walking right into gray. but his voice is enough to snap you out of your own sulking, blinking as you stop and meet his gaze. his words seem genuine and you're sure he is concerned but the damn smirk on his lips just pisses you off more.

"fine," you reply sharply, turning to walk past him.

gray reaches for you before you can, his hand wrapping around your arm and halting your steps as he pulls you back towards him.

regrettably, even if his cold hand feels soothing on your skin.

"what—"

gray just lets out a chuckle, shifting you so you're stood in front of him before pressing his palm against your forehead. whatever you'd been about to say promptly falls silent the second it does. instantly, a cold, gentle breeze flows over you, enveloping your entire body in a cooling sensation that has your tensed muscles relaxing.

"oh."

"feel better?"

glancing up at gray, you blink at him, dazed. "much," you admit, nodding, "your magic feels so nice."

gray flushes slightly at your words, the compliment making his insides feel funny as he coughs, trying to pretend like that hadn't affected him. "w-well, i'm glad. you looked pretty miserable."

as the feeling floods you, you start to gather your bearings, now just realizing how close you were to gray. his hand was raised, pressed against your forehead, but his other hand still rested on your arm and the two of you were very close.

you feel your cheeks warm as you lower your gaze.

"th-thank you, gray." you mumble, feeling oddly embarrassed even though you can't reason why. gray was your friend and all he was doing was helping you, his friend, cool down in this ridiculous heat.

there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

still, that couldn't explain the flush on both of your cheeks.

"here," gray shifts, moving his hand and you have to resist the urge to moan at the loss of his hand. he lets go of your arm and moves to stand beside you. and, before you can dwell on the disappointment much longer, gray's face is burning and he's promptly turning away from you, avoiding your gaze.

your eyes then lower, seeing his hand held out towards you, palm inviting.

"gray?"

"hold my hand," he explains, muffled as he shoves his face into his coat collar (surprisingly still on). "i'll keep you cool."

the realization dawns on you, eyes widening. "o-oh," you mumble, forcing the words out as you glance at his hand once again. "okay."

slowly, hesitantly, you slip your hand into his, gray easing into the touch as he threads his fingers through your own, and squeezes.

true to his word, he lets his magic slowly seep out, cooling you and enveloping you in a consant cool sensation. but the heat refuses to fade from your cheeks, all the same, as the two of you avoid each others gaze.

"sh-should we get going?"

"ye-yeah."

-

"y/n?"

"hm?"

"why are you holding gray's hand?"

you snap your attention to lucy at her question, eyes then snapping to gray who's staring back at you, and then finally down to your intwined hands.

a second later, the two of you are pulling away.

"no-no reason!"

"nothing!"

lucy just blinks at the two of you, quirking a knowing brow.

"you guys sure?"

you send a lucy a half-hearted glare, knowing what she's insinuating, and given that she knew more than anyone else there, you refused to let her try and egg you on. "of course," you say firmly, and lucy just laughs. "it was just... hot. gray cooled me down."

hands on her hips, lucy snorts; "okay, then." then, stepping back, she shrugs. "i was just curious."

she leaves the two of you alone and both you and gray stand there for a moment, silent, not sure what to say.

then, gray speaks up; "i didn't mind, you know?"

"hm?" you mumble, meeting his eyes. he just gestures to his hand and your lips part. "oh. me... me neither. it... felt nice." then, you move to clarify; "and not just because of your magic."

"that's good," gray nods, flustered. "i'm glad."

"yeah."

"...wanna... hold hands again?"

you let out a breath of relief. "yes."

[mindmelter]

Serving The Alien And Its Puppets - Part 2

"I will be waiting inside the car," The Arab prince said. He was now just a puppet for the Alien Master, his pretty head was filled inside with alien slime.

The Alien Master liked the Arab Prince so much that he switched his original form from my stepbrother's body to the Prince. My job today was simple and easy, all I had to do was help put some alien slime inside my hot coworkers... Of course, I'm being ironic, I was very nervous about the whole thing.

The company I worked for was mostly made up of Middle Eastern men and all of them were very hot. I was one of the few with European descent, and it was torture for a gay guy like me to work with such fine specimens.

Typically, the Alien needs to assimilate a brain per day, sometimes two. However, today he expressed his desire to assimilate every person at my workplace. I was perplexed and attempted to ask him why, but he just told me to be quiet and do as I was told.

I was very excited but also a little nervous. Once inside the building, I spotted my first victim, Ibrahim, the receptionist, sitting on a chair distracted by his phone, not even noticing me walk in.

Ibrahim worked at the front desk, he was a tall, muscular guy with a grumpy personality. All I knew about him was that he was a ladies man, and he wouldn't stop talking about pussy. I smiled to myself, he would be perfect.

I slowly walked to his desk and put a purple slime on his table, Ibrahim looked at the purple blob, and before he could say anything the slime leaped onto his face, squirming its way into his nostrils and burrowing towards his brain. He let out a deep, guttural grunt, his eyes rolling back as violent convulsions overtook his body. His muscular arms hung limply by his sides, his head drooping backward. That moment, I knew the transformation had begun—the slime was already feeding, replacing Ibrahim's brain with something new, something better.

Ibrahim then looked at me, with the same lust that every puppet would always give me. "Come here boy, you're going to get what you deserve!" He said, his voice now husky and deep, he pushed me down on my knees and unzipped his pants, freeing his huge, hard cock. "Suck on it while I talk with my date for tonight!" He ordered. "I usually would never let a fag like you have a taste of my cock, but you are my Master's human slave and your job is to serve his puppets!"

I started sucking as he kept thrusting his hips forward, I took his entire cock into my mouth, sucking and licking it as best as I could. He moaned loudly, his hips bucking against my face as he fucked my mouth, his eyes were on the phone all the timeand. He quickly came down my throat. "Drink it all, human."

"What the fuck is happening here?" Mr. Tarek, our supervisor asked as he walked into the room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me with my face buried in Ibrahim's crotch.

Ibrahim quickly coughed one purple slime and threw it on the floor, the small slime quickly crawled and disappeared under Mr. Tarek's pants. Mr. Tarek groaned as the slime forced its way inside his ass, seconds later Mr. Tarek was also a puppet for the alien.

"Come here human slave, you're going to be our slut now," Mr. Tarek ordered. I stood up and walked to him, he pulled me for a sloppy kiss, while I unbuttoned his shirt.

Mr. Tarek was such a hot Daddy, I always wondered what he looked like under his clothes, especially his huge pecs, now I not only knew how I could feel too. I ran my hands on his meaty pecs and started to suck on his nipples as he moaned. "That's a good slave, suck on Daddy's tits," He moaned, and I did as I was told.

I lost myself in those pecs until I felt Mr. Tarek's hand pull me away by the back of my hair. "That's enough, you still have others to help convert into our Master's puppets." He then coughed another slime and handed it to me.

He was right, the Alien Master was waiting for me outside, I could play with these puppets later, it was time to move on to the next victim. I knew exactly who was going to be next, walking inside the other room I spotted the young intern, Khalid. I felt a little guilty, Khalid seemed like a nice guy, but after seeing the bulge in his pants it passed away.

He was sitting at his desk when he noticed me and welcomed me with a warm smile. "Hey Eric, can I help you with something?" he asked.

I stepped closer, my heart racing as I approached him with a blob of purple slime moving on my hand, his eyes widened in surprise and confusion. "What the hell is that?" He stuttered, standing up and moving away from me.

I didn't respond, after all, what could I say? "Hey, Khalid? Would you let me put this goo inside your head so it can feed on your brain and replace it with a slime?"

So I just threw the slime toward him, but I failed when he protected his face with his hands, making the slime fall to the floor. He then ran to the door, he was about to walk out, but he bumped right into Mr. Tarek's large pecs.

"Mr. Tarek, you need to help me! Eric has with him some weird creature!"

But Mr. Tarek looked completely blank and unresponsive as he blocked the door with his body.

"Mr Tarek?" Khalid asked. He was starting to question why the supervisor was with his shirt open, and was that saliva on his nipples? but before he could react, Mr. Tarek grabbed Khalid by his chin and forced a kiss, Khalid tried to fight but Mr. Tarek was stronger.

I could see some purple slime being passed from Mr. Tarek's mouth and into Khalid's, the intern's eyes went wide in shock, and then his body went limp as the alien slime started to take over his body.

Mr. Tarek then whispered into his ear, "Welcome to the family, Khalid." with that, Khalid nodded and gave me an eerie smile.

"Take off your pants and bend over my desk, now!" Khalid said with a commanding tone, but his voice was the same, it was terrifyingly sexy. I felt my face flush red, seeing innocent Khalid acting in such a dominant way made me very hard.

As I bent over the desk, I soon felt Khalid's hands on my ass, ripping my underwear and spreading my cheeks as he buried his face and started to eat my ass. I was in heaven until I felt a hard slap on my ass.

I looked behind me and saw Ibrahim, Mr. Tarek, and Khalid, all standing together behind me without their pants and with their hard dicks pointing at me. Suddenly they all started to speak in unison.

"The Alien Master is angry that you almost let one of his puppets run away, he wants us to punish you!"

The three of them took turns, one fucking me hard while the others watched and stroked themselves.

Ibrahim was first, his thick cock pushing into me without any mercy. I moaned loudly, feeling him fill me up and stretch me wide open. He fucked me hard and fast, his grunts and groans echoing through the room. Mr. Tarek was next, his cock was even larger than Ibrahim's, and he was not gentle either. He grabbed my hips and pounded into me, making the desk shake beneath us, pens, papers, and a mug, all fell to the floor. Lastly, Khalid, his cock was thicker than the others and he took his time, savoring the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of me.

The Alien Master, watching through their eyes, was enjoying the show. His slime was pulsing inside each one of them, making their cocks even harder and their strokes more aggressive. When the three finished inside me, I stood up with three loads leaking from my ass and smirked at them.

"There's still plenty of puppets to make, give me one more copy," I said.

But the three just laughed at me and spoke in unison. "Master don't want you to help him anymore! We will do the takeover from here, you will just watch."

I sighed. It seemed that I had really angered the Alien Master, and now I feared for the future of my brain. I nodded and followed them to the next office. I watched as they forced a kiss on the other men, and within seconds, those men would be under the alien's control, forcing a kiss on other workers. They moved swiftly and efficiently, and before I knew it, the entire floor was filled with puppets.

There was Amir, a muscular Daddy fitness enthusiast, who worked as the manager. He was so huge that it took both Ibrahim and Mr. Tarek to hold him while Khalid infected him with the slime.

Amir was known around the office for his stern demeanor and unwillingness to be dominated by anyone. Now, under the alien's control, he was leading a group of his fellow converted colleagues toward the next department.

Then, there was also Karim, the office gossip, he spread a rumor once about me ogling the men's bulges, now his mouth was used to spread the alien's slime rather than rumors.

I was kneeling between his legs, looking up at him as some commotion was going on in the background.

"You like staring at our bulges huh? You're such a perverted human," He said as he shoved my face into his bulge, his hard cock pressing against my face. "If you like staring at men's bulges so much, then here it is!" I couldn't help but feel a bit of spiteful satisfaction as I started to lick the bulge in his pants, feeling it pulse and throb in my tongue.

"There you are!" Amir called from behind, yanking me up by the shirt collar. "Omar wants to have a word with you!"

"Can you carry me in your arms? My ass is really sore." I asked, trying to give him my best puppy eyes. Amir took me in his huge strong arms as if I was made of paper, as he carried me to Omar's office, I caressed his pecs.

Then there was finally Omar, the office heartthrob and the executive assistant. Whose hot body was now a vessel for the alien slime. Amir put me down on my knees as I looked up at Omar sitting on his chair, he was holding a mug.

"They put some slime copies on the coffee machine; I have to admit, that's pretty clever," Omar said as he stood up, loosened his tie, and approached me with a hungry look. I knew what was coming next.

"You've been a naughty human, Eric," he purred, his voice low and seductive. "Our Master thinks you need a more thorough lesson in obedience."

The other puppets walked into the room forming a circle around me, Omar pushed me to my knees and ordered me to unbuckle his belt and blow him. His cock grew before my eyes, the slime making it swell and pulse with an otherworldly need. I couldn't resist the urge to touch it, to feel the power of the alien through this beautiful vessel of a man. He groaned as I wrapped my hand around his shaft, stroking it gently before taking it into my mouth. The puppets gathered around us, their eyes gleaming with lust as they watched me service Omar.

Omar let out a primal roar, tearing open his dress shirt to reveal his perfectly sculpted, hairy chest. One by one, the others followed his lead, ripping their shirts apart with a savage fervor, there was no humanity left in them. It was like watching a scene from a twisted sci-fi porn, where the alien's insatiable hunger was not just for brains, but for power and sexual control.

They were all jerking off around me and soon they came at the same time, all over me. I was a mess, covered in the cum of 32 men, but I didn't care. I felt like I was part of something big, something powerful.

I felt like a slut in a sea of hot, alien-controlled men, and I couldn't help but love every second of it.

After hours of servicing those men, I walked out of the building, feeling used but oddly satisfied. I couldn't believe I just helped turn all my coworkers into brainless hosts. The copies filling their heads don't need to feed like the original Alien inside the Arab prince, so they would go back to their old lives as normal, the slimes would act just like them, only I would know what was inside their heads.

I stepped inside the car where my Alien Master was waiting.

"I'm fed and satiated for now, you almost did a good job, my human slave," he said, his voice still deep and commanding.

"Thank you-"

"I said 'almost', you almost let one of those humans run away, he would have if it wasn't for one of my puppets. That's what I get for trusting a human."

"I helped you turn my stepbrother and stepdad into your dumb puppets! What else do I need to do so you can finally trust me?" I said. But when I looked at the prince's face, I immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry Master, I promise-"

"Quiet," he cut me off. "You will be punished for that later, now give this puppet a blowjob while I drive us to his hotel!"

I took the Arab Prince's cock into my mouth as he drove off. Once at the hotel, I decided to take a shower, I needed a good shower to take the sweat and cum from the day's events off my body.

I walked out naked of the bathroom, there was no reason for modesty anymore. I saw the prince smoking on the balcony, looking over the city lights, he then turned to look at me.

"Sorry for being too harsh on you today, my human." He said, blowing out some smoke.

I couldn't tell if he was mocking me or being sincere, but I didn't dare to question it. "I've been thinking, you have been a great companion to me, I never thought I would ever let a human with an intact brain for so long, I hope you realize how special that makes you."

I was speechless, it was the first time the Alien Master was being kind to me.

"Thank you, Master," I murmured,

The Prince then sat on the bed, his cock already hard again, he looked at me with hunger in his eyes.

"Come here, my sweet human," he ordered, and I knew I had to obey. He grabbed me by the waist and gently pushed me onto the bed, spreading my legs and climbing on top of me.

His huge cock slid into me easily, and he started to fuck me with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made me moan.

This was different from the other times. The Arab Prince, or rather the Alien Master, was not as rough. His movements were tender, almost loving, and his eyes bore into mine as he whispered how much of a good human pet I was.

As he thrusted, he was pinning my hands above me on the bed as he kissed my neck. Once we came, The Alien Master cuddled me in the prince's muscular arms, his cock still hard inside me. It was the closest thing to affection I had ever felt.

"Who do you think should be the next puppet?" He asked.

"I'm thinking of Mr. Wahid's son? he's a hot arrogant hunk, just like his dad."

Suddenly the prince's eyes became completely purple, scaring me for a second, it was the first time I was seeing it.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm accessing the copy inside Mr. Wahid's mind right now," Right, sometimes I forget that the Alien can have access to all his puppet's memories at any moment. The prince's eyes went back to normal.

"It looks like his son is traveling for a business trip, but he will be back tomorrow morning, It'll be the perfect opportunity."

"I agree, Master."

"Then you should get some sleep; we're heading to the airport in the morning."

[bountycancelled]

ANTIFRAGILE

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

opla zoro x reader

in which, even though it doesn't seem like it, zoro cares (alot, about you, specifically)

genre: one shot, gn! reader, short

requested: yes! tysm (reqs are still open for anyone<3)

a/n: idk, enjoy I guess? (unedited)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"need any help, darling?" Sanji's flirtatious voice rang out from behind you, disturbing your damn near embarrassing attempts at lifting a box.

you huffed as you dropped it once again, turning to face Sanji as you shrugged him off with a wave of your hand. "no no, I wouldn't want you using your hands for something that isn't in the kitchen. I can manage."

an unconvinced Sanji nodded before walking off, leaving you and your own stubbornness to deal with the heavy lifting. the truth of the matter was, that you definitely did need help, but you'd be dammed to hell before accepting any.

it seemed as if you had some sort of problem accepting yourself for who you were.

you were by far the most stealthy individual anyone had ever met, most people didn't even know you were in the room until you had a knife to their throat. you were the resident idea person in high pressure situations, and what you lacked in strength, you made up for in technique.

ah yes, strength. if there was one thing that you could not accept that you didn't have, it was physical strength. you were never the type to brute force your way out of a situation zoro-style, bit it would still be nice to have the option of doing so.

it wasn’t as if anybody in the crew made you feel bad for your lack of strength, it was more so an internal issue within your own psyche.

what could you say? you were tired of having to ask your fellow crew mates to help you do something as simple as carrying something from point A to point B. you were tired of feeling useless every time more hands on approach was needed. but that all ended today. (well, you hoped that it all ended today anyway)

after what felt like and probably was an eternity you could finally lift the box that you had set your eyes on, sure you had taken so long that Luffy had forgotten that he even wanted it but you had done it nonetheless and you were proud of yourself. that pride however was short lived with your body ache in a way that you never thought possible.

you knew, or at the very least, you thought that you knew how much your body could take, but said body had no problem humbling you the second you had gotten a little too confident in skills that you didn't have.

you weakly limped towards your room, ignoring the sympathetic look from Sanji, the "you shouldn't have done that but I still feel bad" look from Nami, the soft pat on your back from usopp, Luffy not even noticing your current state, and Zoro's blank cold stare with what you could only hope bubbled with a bit of concern.

you would be lying if you said that you weren't trying to impress a certain green haired individual on the crew with a knack for using swords in unconventional ways. but your little schoolgirl crush was getting to the point where it was causing you physical pain, and you needed to get your mind out of its delusion.

Zoro was not going to give you attention just because you lifted a heavy bo–

your self chastising session was ended prematurely by a knock in the door, that kind of sounded like an alien life form trying to imitate a human custom. you let out a small 'come in', not being entirely suprised to see Zoro on the other side. (after all, he's the only in the crew who would care or even think to knock.)

what you were suprised to see however, was the plate of food in his hand. it was your favourite dinner which he had threatened Sanji to make which he placed on your desk, walking out just as quickly as he came.

before he left, he looked at you over his shoulder, seemingly contemplating if he should say what he wanted to say.

"you shouldn't push yourself to do something that's dangerous for you body. you're... more talented than you give yourself credit for."

you smiled to yourself, unable to not feel the butterflies floating around in your stomach, but his last words sent you over the edge.

"I don't want to see you hurting. ever."

[nocturnowlette]

If you want to enter a Puppy Mindset whenever you wish, read this post. I assure you that it's worth it.

I want to explore the idea today of entering a state of mind called Puppy Space, and let anyone who reads my scripts be able to go in and out of it at will.

...and to maybe sink into it whenever they see my posts. Maybe.

If you wish you read this, but are new to hypnosis or want for this script to be more effective, I highly suggest reading my first script here. It makes everything so much Easier.

Now, let's begin.

...

The general idea of a Puppy Space is to feel Dumb, but not mindless. To feel Happy and Calm and Obedient, but to still be able to do your everyday tasks. Feeling so Happy while you do them.

Oh, and feeling the need to Bark constantly. Finding words so hard, but being able to get them out so long as you Bark enough.

I've put a few subjects into Puppy Space before (and have been in it myself) and it feels great.

When I was in that state, I felt so

Melty.

So Happy.

So Dumb.

Barking every time you want to speak, being able to think, but finding it so, so hard. Only being able to speak if you

Bark

enough.

Feeling so hard to think. Your thoughts slowing down, getting so, so Dumb. Focusing on my words so easily, like all of your mind is so Focused on me that everything else just shuts off. Everything just fades away.

I want you to imagine a bunch of floating bubbles, splitting and combining and growing and shrinking.

These bubbles represent your thoughts.

So if I were to just,

slowly approach one,

my claw getting ever closer,

until it

Pops.

Harder to think.

I approach another, and

Pop.

And that thought is gone.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

So hard to think, all of your thoughts going

Pop

right as you think them.

Your thoughts popping for me, I don't even have to do it anymore.

Your thoughts just

Pop

on their own.

Any time you find yourself thinking, your mind instantly

Pops

it for me.

A Good little thoughtless Puppy.

Pop.

However, there's one bubble bigger than the others, one that your mind can't quite pop on its own.

This bubble contains all of your remaining awareness. You already feel quite Dumb, but our minds love to hold on to some of it.

Focus on my words even more.

The more you Focus, the easier it is for your thoughts to

Pop.

The easier you Focus on my words, the more real they become.

The bubble starts to grow. It starts to fill with other parts of your mind.

Your inhibitions go into the bubble. It gets a little bit bigger.

Your stresses go into the bubble. It gets bigger. So stressed, and all of that stress slipping right in, so so Easily.

Bigger.

Your fears and anxieties go into the bubble. Everything you're scared of, slips right in. The bubble gets

Bigger.

Every little bit of your human mind left feeding right in. It gets

Bigger.

So Big, so Fragile.

There's too many thoughts in this bubble, too much for it to hold on to.

It's so Hard to keep control, to hold on to these things.

It would be so, so Easy

to let it just

Pop your Mind Away.

...

Welcome to Trance.

If you're new to this, this is a state of mind where you are both highly relaxed and very Focused.

It allows me, or anyone else that brings you into it, to suggest behaviors to you. To be Commanded, as well.

For example,

You feel Dumber. See how Easy that is? You feel Dumber now.

Every time you think you're already so Dumb, but you just get Dumber again. Staring at my words so intently, and yet being so Mindless.

Such a Good Puppy.

Good Puppies should be Mindless, sometimes. You're saving all the thinking up for later, when you really need to. No need to think right now, just let me do it for you.

Like a little antenna, you feel so

Receptive

to my words.

Like an invisible antenna is sticking right out of your silly puppy head.

Every Command is Received so Easily, sending waves through your entire skull. My words have so much power over you, because you Love to Receive them. You love it too much. You need to let my words in.

However, being this Mindless isn't very practical for long, long periods of time.

It feels so good to just Sink like this, but so many puppies are just so busy. Little chores, big tasks, your paws and puppy mind feeling so exhausted from all of it.

Like this, though, so Mindless and Obedient and Receptive, you feel so, so

Happy.

So Relaxed.

So Content.

Bark for me.

Adorable.

I want to give you a gift for reading this post.

I want to let you enter a state of mind that lets you be so

Happy, and

Relaxed, and

Content

while going throughout your every day life. Making chores and little tasks so Easy to do, feeling so Happy doing them.

Making your thoughts

Pop,

But not so much that you can't do anything.

Just smart enough, but so, so Dumb.

To be able to speak, but to find it so, so hard. Like a molasses that covers your mind, every little word gets so easily consumed by it. The words just disappear, All Gone.

However, every time you

Bark,

those words get just a little easier to say. The molasses clears for just a moment, blown away by the force of the Bark, only to seep back in eventually.

You need to Bark several times to get out a sentence, but with enough effort, you can do it.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

You feel that bubble filling up again.

There's not much left in that little puppy brain of yours, but still fills up a bit anyways.

It gets Bigger.

Filling up with even more little bits of your mind, things you didn't even know could be popped away.

It fills up even Bigger.

Filling with everything except for your focus on my words.

Getting so Big, Bigger and Bigger, so Fragile.

Bigger, and

Bigger, and

Bigger, until it

Pops your Mind Away.

...

In a moment, I will count upwards from 1 to 5. When I do, you will enter

Puppy Space.

You will be able to speak, but only when you Bark enough. Keeping the molasses away, for just a moment.

You will feel so

Happy, and

Blissful, and

Obedient.

If you have an owner, you will feel so, so Devoted to them.

If you have tasks you need to do, small little chores or larger tasks, you will feel so Happy to do them. Healthy Puppies are so Happy.

However, whenever you need to come up, or when you want to come up, to become human again, it will feel so Easy.

Until that moment, though, it will feel so, so Hard.

So Hard to resist the Puppy Space.

And, if you allow it, with every time you see my words, my posts, my thoughts, and my ideas, you will find yourself so easily drifting back into this Puppy Space.

And, whenever you so wish, you can re-enter this Puppy Space yourself, but echoing the words

"Puppy Space"

over and over and over until you can't think of many words at all. Until the molasses has covered your mind.

Occasionally, you will need to come back to this post, to reinforce the triggers. Or to me directly.

But, for now, it will be so, so Strong. Stronger than anything you thought possible.

Entering Puppy Space on the count of 5.

1.

Feeling control over your body coming back.

2.

Easier to focus on things other than my words.

3.

Feeling so Happy, Obedient, and Relaxed.

4.

Becoming just a little easier to think, enough to just barely do your tasks.

5.

Puppy Space.

...

Hello, puppy. Do you feel nice? Of course you do, that's what puppies do. They feel so

Nice, and so Dumb, and so, so Happy.

You're Adorable, you know that?

You can feel like this every single time you read my words, every time you see my posts. If you'd like, you can follow my blog for more puppy, hypnosis, and me-related ramblings.

I'd also love to see you Bark for me. Reblog this post, Barking your little mind away. Maybe try typing about how it felt, only so long as you Bark enough to form words while doing it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy yourself, Puppy.

I hope to see you more in the future.