#love the feeling where the world dont make sense right after you wake up from a nap

[saninthebuilding]

just woke up from the best nap i've had in days and really wish you were here @eeniemeenie because i really wanna hug you rn

[snghnlvr]

delicate | nishimura riki

౨ৎ ## love so delicate like yours, synopsis: you've realized how far you've gotten with your boyfriend now that both of you are adults.

includes: 1.9k words | soft fluff | yn is anxious asf but riki comforts them | we love reassurance | movie notebook reference 😎 | yn got a tattoo and it makes riki fall in love with them more 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️ | coming of age¿?

extra: at this point, all of the members are taylor swift coded | soft love is the best love | yn is me because im also 18 and i dont wanna pay taxes D:

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

[below the cut]

you sighed as you laid yourself flat against the blankets. you smiled in delight as if your troubles and worries left you. 

“school’s over.” you said, feeling your chest heavy. you recalled the school memories that you’ve experienced; both happy and sad, now that you’re taking the next chapter of your life; college. 

it’s leaving a bittersweet feeling on your whole body. 

“it is.” you looked over your shoulder, to see your boyfriend, riki fiddling with his yearbook. his fingers spotted towards the back of the book, heartfelt messages and inspiring words that his friends wrote for him. 

you’re in riki’s backyard, inside of a treehouse both of you built since children with the help of your parents. you’re so lucky your dad is a constructor. 

riki is sitting, one leg sticking out and one knee bent as he leans into the wooden walls. this position allows you to admire him from below as the sunlight flashes on his beautiful features. 

he’s reading every single message with sincerity and care, from his senior friends that he will probably never see again and his younger juniors that he can’t annoy anymore as he pleases. despite hating waking up early every morning and him dealing with tiring lectures, he has to admit he made memories and friends that’s worth a life time.

“i can’t believe we’re gonna be college students now. where we have to pay off debts, start our career paths, those people who are gonna be closer to 20 than 16 - it’s just,” you took in a breath. “surreal. surreal that we are growing up.”

you had always had a fear of growing up. not wanting to achieve the things and goals you’ve planned on time. you felt like you’re rushing to do everything at once before it becomes too late. you always wanna stay 16 forever; forever naive to understand the real world. how you’re closest friends will separate from you. how everything you’re experiencing right now will be just a memory. 

riki glanced down on you where you’re staring off of space. he can sense the anxiety in your tone. 

he closes the book after he was staring at a picture. a picture titled, “best couple” and it’s a picture of the both of you standing next to each other, smiling widely. he smiled at how adorable you looked next to him.

he scooted closer to you, making himself comfortable once he lays down next to you. his back lays flat, mimicking your position. 

“are you scared?” riki likes to question the obvious, but it helps you reflect on your feelings; how fear is just a feeling and to understand your emotions a bit better.

“just a little anxious just all,” you confessed, looking at riki whose eyes never left yours. “i’m sure it will disappear soon. i mean, everyone experiences this.” you reassure yourself and riki sense it, enjoying your honesty.

“mhm,” riki mumbles. “it’s okay to feel anxious, the future is scary.” he looks down. “it’s only a matter of time how you’re gonna handle it. you create your own future.” 

his words ring in your head. he’s right.

riki took your silence as a way that you agree with him. 

he then glanced down towards your arm, a black-inked drawing that attracted him. riki scooted closer, his body turned to yours. he propped himself up with his elbow.

no matter how close the proximity is between the both of you, it still makes you nervous til this day. especially with how much older and mature-looking your boyfriend of 6 years is. 

“your parents aren’t mad about this?” riki gently poked on your arm, eyes analyzing the art in your arm. it’s only been a week since you decided to get your first tattoo.

it’s beautiful, he thinks. 

“not anymore, i’m 18 now.” you huffed out. you remembered the horror on your parents’ faces but a sigh of defeat when they realized you’re now responsible of yourself. it makes you chuckle about their panicked expressions, slowly making themselves aware that you’re not gonna be their little 4 year old reckless daughter anymore. 

“i can imagine your mom shrieking.” riki giggled which made you scoffed because he wasn’t wrong. 

“your birth flower?” riki asked, his fingertips gently tracing the traces of your birth flower. 

your eyes widened a bit at his sudden touch then you looked down at how focused riki was. his eyes were staring at it as if your tattoo was a museum. 

your heart beat quickened at the sight. 

“the flower that i drew for you in your math notebook in 6th grade.” riki smiled, realizing how much time flies since you guys called it official since middle school. you’ve remembered the nervousness riki’s hands were, fiddling the bouquet of origami flowers. flowers he made for each that day that he fell in love with you. you thought it was silly. riki has always been caring and kind to you so it was natural for you to reprociate the feelings back. and so, without any pressure or doubts, you guys called it official.

“i thought you threw your old notebooks away..” his voice still remains soft and delicate, still smiling at your tattoo. he started to reminisce the times he would doodle on your notebook without you noticing. like a surprise.

“i ripped the page and kept it since.” when you were going into your freshman self, you looked back into the notebooks to reminsince your middle school memories. you’ve came across a drawing — no other than riki’s in one of your notebooks. you ripped it out and hid it in a safe spot until you get a tattoo of it ever since.  

some people thought you guys weren’t gonna make it past middle school — even you too, but since both of you got in the same highschool, it remained strong. a strong string holding your relationship tight.

yes, with hormones acting up and puberty getting in the way, there were times where you guys had fought and argued together to the point it was nearing breaking apart but both of you shouldn’t let it slide. not when it has reached this far. and how much you love each other.

although your boyfriend has grown up, there are occasionally times where he teases you and becomes childish around you, it makes you soft-hearted at how he still has a soul of his 12-year old self. especially moments where he look similar to a duck, which made you think about how much duck plushies you have on your bed because it reminds you of riki. 

you’re happy that you’re growing up with him.

“what are you thinking about pretty girl?” 

you gasped lightly, realizing that you’re spacing out. you looked at him and you see a small smirk implemented on his face, curious of what your pretty head is thinking about.

your face relaxes, trying to calm yourself. you’re nervous over nothing.

you looked down at your hands, then glance at riki’s hand comfortably resting, then back to your hands. your fingers slowly creep upon riki’s fingers, slowly rubbing them with yours. you smiled at the sight.

“it’s insane to think about how much we’ve grown.” you paused. “together.”

riki’s eyes looked at the sight, his heart beat echoing and growing louder. no matter what you do, you always make him think irrational. he then glances at you smiling when you’re playing with his fingers. “not many people believed in us lasting this long, not even me. i was worried if one of us lost feelings, found someone else better, or get something in our way, but im glad that we didn’t give up.” you looked at riki where his attention was diverted to you. he raised an eyebrow to indicate that he was listening.

“i’m happy that i’m dating you, i can’t express how much i adore you, how much you mean to me, i’ve never felt love this strong before — you’re just everything to me. i can’t imagine laughing harder than with anyone else, smile so much with anyone else. with you, it’s different. thank you for loving me.” 

you’re cringing on the inside at how much you confessed in such a short amount of time. you’re met with silence from your boyfriend who seem atonished from your words. you’re embarrassed, pulling back your fingers to cover your blushing cheeks in front of your boyfriend.

riki’s lips twitched, happy for you to express your feelings more comfortably now compared to the past situations. (one of the reasons that you’ve guys argued before) his chest felt light, his grin becoming bigger when you’re hiding from him.

you hear the blankets rustling, you felt riki’s arm slowly snake around your wrist to lightly remove your hand from your face. you removed your embarrassed hands and your eyes followed his hand clasping onto yours. the sight of his veiny hands makes you silent.

you admire the two of you holding hands. your stomach was feeling butterflies just as it was the first time riki confessed his feelings to you. riki twists your wrist, allowing you to see the sight from all angles. it looks so perfect. your hand perfectly structured to hold his. 

“you’re just as perfect as to what i am seeing right now.” riki spoke with a soft tone, chuckling when he kept twisting and turning your wrist. “you have a place in my heart no one else could ever have. my heart is so full of you i can hardly call it my own. i choose you. and i’ll choose you over and over. without a pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat, i’ll keep choosing you. as long as i’m alive, you will always be loved.”

you’re speechless at your boyfriend’s words to the point you feel like crying. riki still kept smiling at you, giggling. you saw the crescents formed in his eyes whenever he smiled at you and it never fails to make yourself love him more.

riki took this opportunity to lift himself up, hovering above you. he pecked your forehead. you felt his warm lips touching your skin and the goosebumps always forms whenever he makes you flustered.

you looked up at him, surprised. he looked down at you with his head tilted and a scrunched nose like a puppy, as if he was proud to do that.

nothing but an exchange of loud heart beats matching with one another and genuine giggles back and forth. 

riki then leaned in towards you. you closed your eyes at the expected action. his lips touching with yours. electricity flows when he rubs his fingers on your hands. it always make you feel all tingly on the inside. 

riki then pulls back, “cute.” he teases you, making your cheeks grow hotter. “shut up.” you rolled eyes, earning a little laugh from him.

riki still doesn’t let go of your intertwined hands as he returns to his original position where you’re laying flat on the ground, shoulder to shoulder. 

“so your summer plans?” riki asked casually. he lifted his head as his arm was under his head to act as support.

you then touched your bangs, realizing that you still have that caramel-like highlights since march. you were starting to get bored of it.

you pursed your lips. “maybe dye my hair next week back to black.” 

riki’s eyes shined. “match with me.” he spoke without thinking. you turned your head to him, realizing that his hair is black now. 

your boyfriend likes it alot when both of you match. 

“if you bleach it next month to some color then what?” you pointed out because sometimes your boyfriend makes impulsive decisions on his hair whenever he sees a cool hairstyles. you’re not angry whenever he does this because he’s good looking with whatever hair color he has.

“i won’t bleach it, i promise. i’ll follow you.” riki spoke and it makes you chuckle that he probably doesn’t realize the importance of his words. “red? blue? silver, i’ll do it for you.” you froze at his sudden deep voice erupting from him. your heart beat also freezes when his lips touches the location of your tattoo. you looked down and see his lips pushed forward. your heart flutters once again.

“you’re dumb.” you spoke, eyes softening at what you were hearing. 

gosh, you really love this man.

riki smiles against your skin, looking up and your heart twists at an umfamiliar sight. “i can be that.” he whispers like it was a promise.

[just-some-random-blogger]

feel free to imagine a sexy interpretation. Also, I'm going to add a loss of virginity here just for fun. In this scenario, Dream is finally willing to admit to himself that he loves the reader, but he's still not willing to confess (and he's also still a possessive/obsessive jerk), so instead he chases after the woman's dreams, especially until even your wet dreams. And 2 possible catalysts here, either Dream sees that the reader is dreaming about having sex with someone else and becomes insanely jealous or he sees someone flirting with the reader in the waking world and becomes insanely jealous XD. This is so Dream, like a king, he feels entitled to the reader and his time, and while he's trying to work up the courage to confess, he makes sure the reader can't hook up with anyone else.

Petty And Yours

Dream of the Endless x Demon Hunter!Reader

Summary: Somnium Regem, the Dream King, felt a certain kinship to the bondservants of his sister Domina, the Lady, or in the words of the king, older sister, Death. This was because of how closely the family of demon hunters has interacted with the Endless throughout generations. There was a particular member of this family he had a soft spot for, not that he'd ever admit it out loud, unless coaxed.

Word Count: 9k+💀 (why cant i ever just make them fuck and be done with it?)

Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (virgin!reader, biting marking, fingering, oral [f receiving], hair pulling, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, praise kink), Set in the Roman middle ages, dream being stupid, reader being stupid, jealous/possessive!dream, reader, fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: OMG YES. MINORS DNI (the smut is at the end) Let go nonnie we love petty, possessive and pathetic dream UGH <3 also I really enjoyed this universe I made with demon hunter!reader, and i usually don't make p2s for my work, but im giving her at least this because she deserves it and i love her. ok isnt actually a p2, its more of a prequel in fact, so you dont have to read the other demon hunter fic i made, but if you do youre gonna be like OMG SLAY that makes more sense now. also, smut after smut for this reader, get it bestie HAHHA HELP THIS REACHED 8k WTF And just in case its not clear, theyre speaking latin in this but like i only put a few latin passages cos i have no idea if its even right lol HAHAHH this gif of him T_T he's so emo sir calm yourself T_T Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx @julesandro @farintonorth Previous demon hunter!reader fic: "Caged"

With my thick skirt and cloak gathered in my hands, I stop at the edge of the street, waiting for the donkey cart to pass me.

I release a huff, impatiently, though I end up finding myself smiling at the old man who greets me while he urges his ride to quicken its pace. Once he has passed, I finally move to cross.

I hiss when a bunch of children carelessly run past me. I eye them and call out, "vigilate quo itis!"

Watch where you're going!

"Children," I mutter in Latin under my breath, as I quickly make my down the townsquare.

I run up a flight of marble stairs and huff when I reach the temple at the top. I push one of the massive doors open, and the sound of it echoes in the grand room.

I close the door and call out, "mater?"

I wait. Nothing. I call out again.

When I finally hear my name, I turn and see it was my mother but my brother calling for me. Grin in excitement, not expecting his prescience. I run over to the man who was three years my senior, smiling from ear to ear, arms out stretched.

I jump into his arms. We seal each other in a tight embrace.

"Cassian," I chuckle airily, "it's been nearly two decades."

He hums, "yes, little sister. I've missed you dearly."

I pull away from him and cups his cheeks. I smile at the sight of his face, looking no older than the age of 25, like the rest of us siblings, though we were all on this earth for more that 50 years.

"Where is mother?" I ask.

Cassian grabs my hands, "Domina est ad loquentes."

She is talking with The Lady.

"The Lady is here?" I tilt my head and perk at the idea.

"Apud Somnium Regem."

"With the Dream King!?" I gasp, "oh come on brother, we must meet them at once!"

Cassian laughs as I tug at his arm in excitement.

He and I rush off to where Domina and Somnia were, recounting random stories that we could think of along the way. The moment I spot the two, conversing with my grey haired mother, I release my grip on Cassian and run towards them.

My mother catches me and chuckles, calling out my name in greeting as she opens her arms out to me from the windowsill she was sat upon.

Once upon her, I envelope her in my arms, kissing her cheeks repeatedly.

"Ah, my sweet girl," my mother coos in my mother tongue, "you act as though you did not see me a month ago."

I pull away from her, shaking my head, "I would react the same way even if I saw you yesterday, mater."

She smiles, placing a kiss on my forehead before I turn to the two Endless siblings.

"Domina," I smile, leaning in for an embrace, kissing both cheeks of the dark skinned woman. She chuckles and reciprocates.

"Somnia," I bow my head at the pale man. He smiles and mimics me, and he extends his palm out for me to take. When I do, he kisses the back of my hand.

I chew on the inside of my lower lip, holding back a smile as I pull my hand away.

"Praise to the Lady, Praise to the Dream Lord," Cassian calls when he finally reaches us. My brother takes his time showing his respects to the siblings, then after, kisses our mother's cheeks in regard.

"You finally thought to visit your mother, boy," she says, narrowing her eyes at her second child, "your older sister, Aurelia, might be travelling Constantinople but she oft sends me letters, as do your younger brothers, Amias and Lucius."

I nudge Cassian to further egg him on, and he quickly eyes me in response, though only addresses our mother, "pardon your son, mater. I am here this day, however, to bring you glad tidings."

I perk and raise my brows at his words, "did you capture the archdemon you were tracking?"

Cassian turns to me, brows tensing before relaxing, "no."

"Did you find the Shadow Master?" my mother asks.

"No, mater," he replies, shaking his head, "I..."

My eyes widen at Cassian's hesitation. He was not one to trail off with his worlds or fall flat with them.

"I have a bride," Cassian huffs, lowering his gaze before turning back to our mother with a soft smile.

My jaw drops, my blood stills.

Cassian straightens himself up, "she is Veronica. Her face is brighter than the morning light, and is as temperate and kind as the Lady," he turns to Death when he says this.

I shake my head in disbelief. I turn to my mother who does not look nearly as shocked as I do.

"She carries my child."

A shiver runs down my spine. I recoil at the sight of my brother.

I watch in horror as my mother stands and pouts at her second born, exclaiming, "lauda dominae! My son has come home to me with a family of his own."

I turn to The Lady, who my mother just exclaimed praise to. My face contorts at the happiness written on her face. It was the sight of her brother, Dream's, face that makes me realize this was all really happening. I then watch as my mother stands and walks towards Cassian, sealing him in a tight embrace.

I shake my head at the misplaced affection, "mater, how can this news please you? He is only halfway through a hundred!"

Mater turns to me, eyes taking in my worried and hurt expression.

Cassian sighs, reaching his hand out to me. I evade him, swatting his hand away, "proditor."

Traitor.

My mother calls out my name. I look at her expression and find tears lacing my eyes. She was looking like this at me?

"Sister, please, I-"

"We all promised each other we'd have our own families after a century!" I exclaim, walking away, "and you! You!" I point, "you've betrayed all of us!"

My name is called again, this time both by my older brother and my mother.

"Mater fuit per se propter hoc!" I whine, "and you dare tell her this in the name of glad tidings?"

I am glad I did not choke when I spoke, 'mother lived by herself because of this.' I normally could not bare to recall the stories my mother had after evoking the Right of the Lonely, the right in which the a person from our line would not die because it would kill off the last remaining demon hunters in existence. I could not even stomach the idea of living out a hundred years without companionship.

When Domina calls out to me, I freeze. I watch as she walks closer, reaching out to me to offer me comfort only she was every capable of. But then Cassian calls my name and I'm betrayed all over again.

And so I run. I run out of the temple and lose myself in the city.

If it was so easy for Cassian to betray the promise we swore as siblings not to partake in the world only until after completing our generational burden, then I would do it too!

After all, I laugh to myself as I weave through shady crowds of people in the market place, servicing the earth as a demon hunter for one century was easy, right?!

If the previous generations could do it, I could do it!

If Cassian, who used to be so slow at picking up demon trails, could be so sure he could have a child while continuing service, then by The Lady, I could do it too.

I gasp when I ram into a solid object. When I recoil after collision and do not fall back, I realize it was because my form was being hoisted up by a dark clothed being.

He speaks out my name and the sound finally pushes me into tears.

"Somnia," I whine, gripping his arms tightly.

My lips quiver in despair. I throw my arms over his shoulders, breaking into a sob.

The next thing I know, I am being pushed back and my calves hit something behind me.

I do not wonder what or do not wonder why I am all of a sudden out of the streets. I know it was the Dream Lord's power that brought us here, here in my bedroom. I sit on the end of my cott, beside the King of Dreams, clutching his hands tightly.

"Where were you to go?" he asks, retrieving his one hand from me to wipe off the tears on my cheeks.

I shake my head as I turn to my hands, my hands that were squeezing his large one as though my life depended on it, "nowhere... any where..." I sigh, "somewhere to spite my brother."

He does not retort.

I release him and sling myself back. I crash against my semi-soft cushion, "I curse his existence."

He speaks my name softly.

I close my eyes and feel tears roll down my temples.

Dream of the Endless does not speak to me, does not offer advice, does not analyse the situation for me, and for that, I am always grateful.

I sniffle, reaching out to him without looking, "lie with me?"

Silently, aside from the sound of him shuffling, he takes my hand and lies beside me. My bed is not that large, and so it was a bit cramp. I don't mind though, I know he doesn't either.

I roll on my side, stretching my arm under my head as I turn to him. I blink as he turns to me, body still rigid on his back.

"I do not want to forgive him."

Dream is silent.

I sigh, moving to press my body against his, check pressing onto his chest. The thump of his heart is slow and steady. His arm comes over my back. I feel another wave of tears threaten to crash down on me as I think, "does that make me a bad person?"

He rubs my shoulder, "no."

I sob into his top, trying to hold back my tears, "what does it make me then?"

"Human."

I take a moment to reply as I calm myself from crying. I turn my head to face him, blinking away salt water, "is it easy for an Endless to forgive?"

I see him close his eyes, "no."

"What does that make you?"

"Petty."

I snort at his words.

He opens his eyes and cranes his neck up. He brushes my hair back and hushes me, "I am here. You needn't ever fear living through the same loneliness your mother did."

I smile softly at his words, pushing myself off him so I could sit by his side. I look down on the man, the man who wasn't, but was sweeter and more thoughtful than any man I had ever met.

I trace the curve of his nose, "would you wait five decades for me?"

He takes my hand in his before I could fully pull away from his face. He proceeds to sit up and press my palm on his chest, "I would wait eons for you."

I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head as I did so, "I don't think I'll live that long."

He does not respond to this, and instead helps me slide to his lap when I shift in my place.

I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder, allowing myself to relax against him.

I brush my nose against his neck and close my eyes, lulling myself into comfort. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer.

Dream smells like a field of flowers, like a warm fire, like perhaps what the stars did.

I shift on him, slowly opening my eyes. I take his cheeks in my hands and lick my lips. I feel my heart thundering in my chest when I lean into him. And then-

I tilt my head up bringing my lips to his, but I don't.

I start when he pushes me away.

He looks at me, somehow bewildered by my actions.

I knit my brows, feeling a bit caught off guard and confused, "what's wrong?"

He speaks my name slowly, arms loosening around me, "I... will always be here for you... but not like this. I cannot give you my heart."

My face contorts at his words. I shake my head, "you cannot give your heart?" I repeat incredulously, "but, my king... you already have."

He pulls his arms away from me. He all, of a sudden, cannot meet my gaze.

I stiffen against him, clenching my jaw as I roughly push myself off him. My nostrils flare in anger and my eyes begin to water. I heave, "why are you here then?"

Somnia keeps his eyes down.

I cannot believe this, "do you not know why you constantly come to me, my lord?"

He, still says nothing.

"Why do you constantly comfort me then?!" I seethe, pointing an accusing finger at him, "why are you even here, if you-" I choke on my words, almost as though my own mouth was not willing to admit this, "-cannot give me your heart? If you think you have not given it to me at all?"

He stands from the bed.

I walk back in response.

"Dilectus-"

"Don't call me that," I quip waving him off, "don't call me your beloved! Not when you claim you don't love me."

He speaks my name.

"What? Have you been leading me on? Have you been passing your time with me because I have not yet aged?!"

"That is not-"

"THEN WHY!" I cry out as my cheeks grow cold and hot all over again because of my tears. I shake my head as I walk all the way back until I could reach my door, "why can't you admit that you love me when I so clearly bleed out my love for you?"

He freezes at my words.

Was he only now realizing this? After everything?

I open the door slowly from behind me.

Somnium Regem is unable to say a word.

I roughly wipe my face, "behold," I scoff, "now I see you are just like any other man."

I turn on my heels and rip the door open, thinking of a place far, far, away as I did. When I hear him call out to me, I slam the door on my way out.

I am gone. I have transported myself away.

I find myself in an army hotspot, where dozens upon dozens of eager, hotblooded men where thirsting at the very idea of companionship, no matter how shallow it posed.

I walked like a regular though it was my first time here. I brazenly sit myself in a table of eight soldiers, looking between them with a bored look, "salvete, milites," I grab the cup of the man beside me, downing the wine in one go. My throat burns at the sour taste and I grunt as I slam the wooden object on the table. I push the cup forward, looking at no one in particular, pulling my lips into a lopsided grin, "et quis ex vobis effundam mihi potum?"

Greetings, soldiers. Will any of you pour me a drink?

The next moment, each man on the table fights to get the ewer of wine.

The moment after that is spent debating my prospects with each Roman militant. One by one, I flirt with them, tease them with my touches and my giggles, taking each one to dance to the muses of a bard and his company.

In the end, the winner, if I could even call him that, was the eldest in the bunch, Fabius. He was still only 27 but the fact he went from Africa and back with the scars to prove it was enough reason for me to choose him.

The perfect criminal to commit a perfect crime with.

Fabius smile as he dances with me, expertly on beat with the lute and the drums.

I'll show them all. I'll show them how I could go against them and break my oaths to everyone, to my family, to the one my heart called for, to myself.

Fabius would do. I would take him and make him mine for the night, or how many nights it would take for my body to bare his seed of mine of vindication.

This soldier was not nice, he was not smart, in fact, he was only rugged. I could tell that all the kindness he extended to me now was only out of his desire to share my bed. It was good enough, considering it was all I wanted or expected from him. And yet he was redeemed by how strong, shrewd, and, most of all, easy on the eyes he was. If he could not give my child compassion and wit, he would at least give his strong nose, soft lips and a warriors stamina.

I pull him near me just when the song ends. He captures me against him and leans down. I whisper on his ear, "would you like to take me home, Fabius?"

Fabius pulls back in disbelief. It is fleeting. He growls and grabs me by the waist, "I'd like to keep you home for the rest of my life."

I feel blood rise up my face at his proposal. I chew on my lower lip and release it from my teeth when he leans in to kiss me.

He is eager and hungry against me. He kisses me with fervor because he wants too, because his body burns in desire for me. He tastes sour, yet again is redeemed by how good he was at kissing.

I could see it now, our disaster. For every wrong he'd do me, he'd have one good thing to show for. It would be an endless cycle of tribulation, and in this moment, the idea of it shined like the stars.

I release a whine when I feel his hands move down to my bottom. This was about as far as I had gone with everyone, and in the next few hours, that would all change.

But suddenly, my head is spinning, utterly confused as to why he pulled away so harshly from me right when I thought he'd whisper the words in my ear.

I only realize what had happened when I see a dark figure faced back away from, sputtering Latin tightly against Fabius.

"Somnia!" I hiss, grabbing his arm, "what do you think you're doing?!"

I tense when he turns to me. I see both the Roman shoulder, toppled on his arse, crawling back in fear, and the blazing eyes of the Dream Lord. His face was truly a fearsome sight to those caught his gaze.

He takes advantage of my stunned state and grabs my arms, pushing me back.

All at once, I find I am pressed against a something, something soft. Dream's ferocious face softens as I am trapped against him, or I then realized, I was trapped beneath him.

No longer did the sour smell of wine tingle my nostrils. In fact, it now smelt like a morning breeze, like a flowery meadow, it smelt like him.

I was now in the Dreaming.

"You are more foolishly impulsive than I could have ever thought," the Dream Lord growls.

I grit my teeth, screwing my eyes shut, not giving him the satisfaction of a response.

"You think you can ignore me?" he quips, "you are in my house, my domain, my Dreaming, pinned under the palms of my hands."

I mask the way my body begins to react to his words, how my throat tightens, how my breath grows taxed, how my belly swirls, and how my thighs press against each other.

"Face me, demon hunter."

"Let me go," I weakly demand.

"I will not set you free after seeing what you meant to do to yourself."

I begin to fume, "Let me go!"

I open my eyes and wrangle beneath him, kicking and pushing him. I then dictate a long spiel of Latin cusses. My whole body burns in fury.

I am powerless against him though. He does not strain where I struggle. He pushes his weight onto me, hands trapping my wrists by the sides of my head, legs clamping mine between his. My face was now also turned to the side as he leaned into me, his hot breath practically searing the skin on my cheek.

Somnia mumbles, "you would give yourself away to a mere mortal on the street? A man who ogles your form, who could not possibly understand the honor you would so willingly bequeath him. His thoughts run wild with ideas of desecrating your being in a vile form taking his claim on you."

"Oh, and suddenly you care?!" I snarl, knocking my head into his, making him pull back in contact, "what does it matter if I chose to be with him? Or even if I chose the devil? The master of demons?! You do not love me."

He calls my name.

"YOU SAID IT YOURSE-"

"I WAS WRONG!" he bursts. His outburst leaves him breathless and stiffens me into marble.

I choke on nothing and feel my eyes water at the sight of him. His hair is messy, eyes are desperate, lips are quivering. He breaks when my tears begin to fall. He pulls away from me, sitting himself at the edge of his bed in defeat, in retreat.

I breathe in heavily, trying to calm myself down, "it took seeing me with another man to own up to your feelings."

He does not respond.

"Do you think I find that flattering?" I voice, "do you?!"

Again nothing.

"I find it petulant and slow-witted." I release a breath, "I find it offensively aggravating."

I push myself up from where I laid. I turn to the window, lips parting at the beauty of the meadows I knew he called Fiddler's Green. Never had I witnessed his domain like this, never before this moment had I ever even been here with him, flesh and bone.

And yet I tell myself not to enjoy the moment so much. I suck in a breath and scratch my tears away, turning to Dream's wide and hunched over back.

"Bring be back, Somnia," I mutter.

He straightens upon hearing this, head barely turning as he speaks, "what?"

I scoff, in utter disbelief that he is in shock of my words, "I do not want to be around you." I move to the foot of the bed then stand, "take me back home."

Dream looks at me, eyes reddish and glimmering with tears. He opens his mouth and speaks something but I do not hear it.

I huff through my nose, "take me back now, Dream. Or- or I'll never speak to you again!"

I recoil when he crawls over to me on the bed. He sit as the edge, reaching out to me, grabbing on to clothes. He whispers my name as his face hardens in desperation, "I do not wish for you to leave while this is unresolved."

"So," I tighten my hands into balls, "if I leave you now, what does that make me?"

He looks up at me, jaw clenching then relaxing as he opens his mouth to speak, "cruel."

I scoff.

A tear rushes down his face.

"And if you keep me here?!" I coaxed.

He releases me, dropping his head as he leans onto his knees. He voices firmly, "an Endless."

My whole body tenses at his words, grows rigid in anger over his sentiment. I was seconds away from lunging at him, but suddenly, a flurry of sand began to twist around me and before I could think, I was back in my bedroom.

It became painfully clear to me that if either of us wanted to resolve our quarrel, we'd have to first resolve our pride.

It had been seven days since the fact, and neither did I call out to him, and neither did he make attempts to come to me.

That was that then. Good riddance. Good, hard, and cold riddance.

All that's left, of course, was the issue with my brother, and her... brimming with life bride.

The image I had of her was starkly contrast to what she actually was. I thought she would have been one or two months in her pregnancy. I really dropped dead when I spied my brother talking to a woman with such a large rounded belly that she looked like she was about to pop any moment now.

The audacity. The sheer and utter disrespect.

Today, I was going to finally face her because my two younger brothers, Amias and Lucius, were now here to do the same. Aurelia had arrived two days before, and as much as we both confided in each other our ill feeling towards the whole predicament, she was as tender as ever, and laced every complaint with an eagerness to make peace with the matter.

My older sister was wholly compassionate, as always, but my younger brothers were not, and I was excited to meet this Veronica, solely because of the knowledge I would finally not be the only one restless about the situation.

And yet, as excited I was to see Amias and Lucius, bickering at each other the moment they arrived, I was betrayed by how it seemed neither of them were fazed by the gravity of the predicament, in fact, they were-

"happy for you brother!" Amias laughs, "I'm so happy for you! Lauda dominae!" He slaps Cassian twice on the shoulder before sealing him into a tight hug, "I understand that your bride is carrying two babes."

I nearly choke on the bile in my throat upon hearing that. My jaw hangs low. That's why her belly was so big. I hiss under my breath, "two?"

Amias pulls away and raises his hands, "clearly it is a sign from Domina to have at least one of them named after," he slaps a hand on his chest, "Amias the Gallant."

Cassian makes a half amused face at second youngest.

The final born smacks Amias' face and takes his turn to embrace Cassian, "malediceres ipsum esse huius infantis."

Lucius pulls away from Cassian, who laughed at his words, to repeat them with pinched fingers, eyeing Amias as he did so, "you would be cursing the very existence of this child."

"Your face is a curse to the world," Amias rebuts in our mother tongue.

When the boys begin to bicker all over again, I finally snap, "so am I truly the only one that cannot stomach this?"

The three turn to me. I am the odd one out.

I hear someone call my name from behind. It's Aurelia with that woman, that Veronica that she was now treating more of a sister than I. Aurelia pulls away from her to walk over to me, "let us speak about this out-"

"No!" I dodge her advances. My senses begin to flare at the feel of my siblings staring at me. I heave heavily as I back away from them, "you've all confided in each other about this, haven't you? You and Cassian," I hiss at Aurelia, "and Amias and Lucius."

Cassian calls my name.

"NO!" I shriek, "it's always been like this. It's always you," I suck in a deep breath, "and then there's me. The spare."

"Sister, that is not true." Lucius calls.

I shake my head, chuckling bitterly, "you're right. It's only ever always in my head, is it not?"

Without another word, I storm out of the room, hating myself for the way I was breaking.

I hide myself in the garden, in a secret corner where I basked in my loneliness, except this time, I would truly be lonely all by myself.

Tinges of betrayal flare up in me when Veronica appears out of nowhere.

She starts at the sight of me. I scoff at her pretending to be shocked by my presence. She speaks, "sister, I-"

"I am not your sister," I quip, "did your beloved tell you to look for me here?! To make peace with me?!"

She tenses at the severity of my tone, hand instinctively going on her belly, "I swear it on my mother, I did not know this was your place. I happened to wander here while I was clearing my own mind and found great solitude in the flowers," she says, turning to the said blossoms coloring the otherwise colorless place.

"They remind me of home," she says, "we had plenty of gladioli in our neighborhood."

Veronica turns to me offering as soft smile that makes me want to scream, "I understand they were a gift form your pat-"

"If you want to see these flowers so badly, why not go back home where there are plenty?" I snip, "and take your traitor with you, why won't you?!"

She presses her lips together. Her lightly tanned skin turns a shade scarlet after my cry. She covers her face and nods, "apologies sis-" she cuts herself off, smacking her lips in the process, "I- I'll leave you to your own devices."

My eyes watch her walk off. And very suddenly, as if I am possessed, my voice calls out to her.

Veronica freezes, turning back to me.

What have I done? Why did I do that. I do not want to speak with her.

I turn away, unable to face her, unable to face myself, unable to admit I called her name because I was not enjoying the harshness I was emitting, the harshness I was sputtering to this poor woman who was not even to blame for my emotions.

I'm spiraling, clearly.

I lick my lips, feeling my chest tighten. I huff and shake my head, "I'm not angry at you."

I make the mistake of turning to her. She's just as distraught as I am. I see myself in her in this moment. I sigh helplessly, "I'm not angry-" I curse then sniffle, wiping my philtrum, "I'm not angry at your children."

I wipe my hand on my face, "I'm not even sure if I'm angry at Cassian. I-" I shake my head rapidly, "I'm frustrated that this marks the start of his final years with us. That's he's going to have to... pay... for not completing his hundred years of service."

Veronica visibly reacts to my words. She sighs deeply, rubbing her swollen belly, "I think of that as well. There has not been a day that I have not thought of that."

I deflate. Here and now, it was clear she understood, even if just a fraction, the severity this choice my brother made. If he does not complete a century of demon hunting, then his captives would drag him by his heels into the pits and battle them for a hundred years there.

I look at her as we both begin to cry. I pat the surface I was sat upon, "do you want to sit down?"

She is taken aback by my words. She nods slowly and walks over to sit down next to me.

For a moment, we sit in silence.

"When he told me he would risk his life for me, I did not realize he meant it," Veronica mutters, "not like this."

I am further dejected. I turn to her, feeling my insides get chewed up by the sight of her wailing.

"I at least find comfort in knowing that the love," she places he hands on her belly, "this love we share, here and now is the purest and realest thing I have every felt."

"But how do you know?" I quip on the defensive, "how could you say that so surely?"

It wasn't because I didn't believe her, it was more of the fact I was projecting my own disbelief of love onto her.

I feel a sliver of guilt bite at me for the way in which I spoke, but Veronica was wholly unfazed. In fact, she chuckles under her breath, "because I know him," she smiles, turning to her belly, "and he knows me." She smiles, "it makes no sense, and it's hard to understand, but-" she turns to my side, lips curved in a smile, "I suppose that is what love is like between a mortal and a demon hunter."

I give her a look. She's insane.

Veronica laughs, clutching her stomach, "perhaps I am."

My eyes widen. I said that out loud? "Veronica, I-"

"But is that not how you and your lover feel?"

"What?"

"Somnium Regem," she mutters, "he sits outside your bedroom every night." She places a hand on her chest, "when I managed to overcome my fear, I asked him what he was doing."

I straighten at her words.

"He told me he was waiting for you to notice him."

I scoff.

"That his pride could not allow him to open your door."

I roll my eyes and shake my head at the thought.

"Yet the same pride could not bear the idea of ever letting you go."

I clench my jaw. Damn him.

"Perhaps that is was the love between a demon hunter and a god is like," Veronica speaks, taking my hand in hers.

"He's not a god," I tell her through an airy whisper, "he is a fool."

And so later that night, when darkness cloaked the sky, I brushed my sleepiness away and rose from my bed.

I tiptoed to my door and slowly creaked it open, soundless. Behold.

I sigh at the sight of the dark figure sitting alone in the lightless hall.

"Do you plan to sit there for half a century?" I speak, actually making him jolt from his place.

Somnia turns to me, eyes wide, lips parted. He takes a moment before responding, drawing out a deep breath, "if that is how long it takes."

I roll my eyes at him, walking out of my bedroom all together.

Dream watches me near him. When I reach out my hand to him, he immediately takes it and stands.

"Is your pride so mighty that you would never risk calling to me?"

He sighs, "I punish myself with my pride. If you could not bare turn to me again, then I did not deserve you."

"Oh, you half-wit. What if," I take his both his palms in my, "I actually make you wait that long for me to forgive you."

He presses near me, releasing a breath, "then I would say it is deserved."

I snort, rolling my eyes for the second time, "alright then," I move away from him, "better start counting-"

"No, wait," he tightens his hold on me, "please don't."

I purse my lips, nodding my head, "hmm. That's what I thought."

The being releases a sigh and hangs his head low, "I apologize for how I acted. It is a struggle for me to accept such emotions, considering how they have served me in the end."

I release his hands to take his cheeks into my palms. I bring my face near, lips ghosting over his, "then how do you plan to make it up to me?"

He brushes his nose against mine, hands coming to my sides, "how would you like for me to make it up to you?"

"A kiss," I whisper, lips curving into a mischievous smile, "on your knees."

I don't have the opportunity to laugh at my childish remark, for his lips finally catch mine, stealing my giggles, my breath, and my remaining thoughts away. I ignite against him. A haze forms in my mind. My body pushes against him, wanting to be closer than I am now.

He is nothing but soft and sweet against me. His mouth is a tender oasis that makes my heart pound and my mind melt. He pushes me back against the walls and my body pulls him into me along the way.

I gasp when he breaks away. I watch as he drops down. I knit my brows at him when his hands grab my hips. I call out his name with caution. He smiles up at me as his one hand scratches its way up from my ankles to my thighs.

I jolt, attempting to pull away, finding I am trapped with the wall behind me.

Somnia coos my name out, "hush. I am only making it up to my beloved."

"What are-" I whine when he lifts my skirt up and throws it over him. I catch his head when he kisses my thigh, "Dream, please, I was mocking you. I-" I let out an unholy sound when he pushes me back and makes an attempt to bite the inside of my leg.

"I assure you," he hotly breathes against my skin, making my entire body tingle with goosebumps, "I will not stand for the mockery of a demon hunter."

I rip at his hair from underneath my skirts. I tense against him when he shifts me onto one leg. The other, where his lips were busy nipping at my skin, its hooks over his shoulder.

"Somnia," I lean into him, gasping for air. My stomach rolls at this obscene image of him beneath me, "someone could see."

The King of Nightmares scoffs. "They would sooner be haunted with nightmares for fifty years before they could even think of beholding your form like this," he hisses against my skin as his one hand squeezes my thigh.

I slap a hand onto my mouth when I feel his nose rub against my sensitive bud. I dig into his hair and garble up the sounds from my throat as his lips connect with my core. My toes curl and my body leans into him involuntarily.

"Dream," I breathlessly speak, moving my palm slightly off my mouth, "please, I-" the harsh sound that leaves me when he nibbles then blows against my heat would have been enough to make anyone who hears it look for the sound in concern.

"I will please you, my dear," he speaks, suddenly pulling away. When his face is revealed to me after my skirt finally drops down, I choke on my breath as the sight of his glistening face.

His tongue swirls around his lips while he stands.

I helplessly watch him as he takes my cheeks and raises a brow at me, "unless you would like for me to stop."

The very thought of asking him to do anything is mortifying to me, yet I managed to shake my head in response.

And normally, I would have been offended by how he chuckles at me like that, but when he drops down again, or rather, I find, crawls down, I only look at him in anticipation. I push myself up elbows and realize I was now lying on a bed, facing a window, beholding the view Fiddler's Green. I was also naked, exposed to him, looking down at an equally disrobed Dream.

My whole body burns.

I do nothing but watch as he takes both my legs and props them on his shoulders before sinking down the middle.

I grunt and tense in my place, averting my gaze when he kisses my center. One of my hands reach out to Dream's dark hair. I whine before ripping at my lower lip. I look down on him as he looks up at me.

"All is well," he affirms, lifting his head up slightly, making me pull my hand away from his hair. He kisses my hand on its way then smiles, "let me make it up to you, beloved." He rubs his cheeks against my inner thighs, placing a kiss there, "calm yourself," he mutters, "I assure you, I will make you very much enjoy this."

"My king," I breathlessly call.

He hums, lips curving upward, pleased by the sound, "let your king do his work."

I bite my lips and close my eyes as I nod. I allow myself to relax against the cushions, though my hands were gripping onto the sheets.

"Valde bona," very good, he says.

My fists tighten and my toes curl all over again when his lips kiss into my heat. This time around, I am painfully aware of the wetness that is pooling and beginning to drip down my flesh. The feeling conflicts me.

Almost as if he was aware of my realization, he laps at me and moans, "so honeyed and sweet. So eager and ready for me."

I huff at the feel of him.

"Do not needlessly worry yourself, your body is exactly how I want it."

With this, I find myself fulling relaxing. I arch my back, as his mouth presses more eagerly into me. I attempt to suppress my squeals when his tongue pushes into me. My hands immediately reach to him and my fingers curl into his hair.

He moans then chuckles. He makes it a point to do this against me as he parts my legs further when I begin to press them close. He calls out my name, making me turn to him slowly. Half of me regrets it, half of me goes wild at the sight of him.

The Dream Lord states, "I find offence in your attempts to suppress your noises. Do not conceal them."

I choke out a whine then his thumb rubs against my nub. I screw my eyes shut again as he continues, "perhaps you need more encouragement."

When he dips a finger into me, a guttural sound rips past my lips. I pull one hand away from him to clamp it on my mouth, but the growl I get in reaction makes me drop my it and turn back to Dream.

"You mock me further by disobeying me?" he huffs squeezing the flesh of by my buttocks tightly, "I should make sure the entire Dreaming hears you scream for its King."

He sinks into me again, only this time, there is a grit from his teeth. I rip at both his roots and mine when he does so, unable to conceal the noises that leave my mouth.

He slowly pumps in and out of me, "louder."

I whine and catch my breath, calling out his name in some sort of plea.

"Louder, I said," he commands as he sinks another digit into me and hastens his pace.

There was no way I could keep silent even if I wanted to at this point.

With his fingers, poking and curling, and his mouth, licking and sucking, it doesn't take long for a strong tension to coil up in my belly. My lips could barely make sense of the words it wanted to say. I fundamentally begin to sputter out nonsense.

"A little bit more," he moans, "give me a little bit- there."

I come undone on him with a cry. My legs force themselves against him as my body spasms. He does not make an effort to push me open, and in fact, he brings his hands on my hips, kneading at them, as if encouraging my actions.

In those tender, body curling moments, I feel warmth and pleasure spread around me. My breath escapes me as I eventually turn into putty.

When he finally pulls away, I turn down to him as he slowly trails wet and hot kisses from my core all the way up my jaw. I take his cheeks in my hands when he kisses my lips. My own cheeks tingle when I see the sheen of my pleasures on his nose and chin. I bashfully swipe at it with my thumb, eager to retreat. And yet, he catches my hand, taking my thumb into his mouth, licking at my finger then pulling it away with a soft pop.

"Well done, my love," he says, smiling at me as he rolls on his side.

I knit my brows as he lies beside me, pulling me near him as he does so that we could face each other.

Dream notices my demeanor. He pushes my hair back, raising a brow, "did I not make you enjoy it?"

My lips part. My face begins to burn at the thought, "no. No I mean yes- I mean- I- I enjoyed it."

He nods, "I know."

I snort at his words, brows slightly tensing, lips pursing.

He smiles, shifting in his place so that he could lie on his chest. When he does so, he pushes me on my back and brings his mouth near one of my breasts. I gasp when he laps at it like a snack, while he massages the other with his hand. My hands dig into his hair, messing it up more than ever.

"Dream," I call.

He does not respond like I want him to and only closes his eyes.

I let out a soft grunt when he sucks at my flesh. I sigh, "Dream, wait."

He immediately halts, lifting his head up, releasing my breast from his mouth.

I lick my lips as I look down at him.

"What is it? Do you not like this?"

"No... I... what about you?"

He takes a moment to respond. He chuckles, pulling me closer to him, "sweet dear," he kisses my rib, "you need not worry about me."

"No, but-"

"I will claim your maidenhood in a moment."

... w... w- he said what?

He raises his brows along with the corners of his lips. A velvety chuckle escapes him, "is that not what you want?"

"..."

"Is it not I that you wish to lay claim to this tenderness within you, this tenderness that your humanity puts so much emphasis on?"

I suck in a deep breath and bite my lip tightly.

"Do you want me to have you now?"

"... yes."

He grins, tongue darting across his lips, "then I say, do not worry about me," he kisses my skin, "I know well enough what I want to do with you."

So for a few minutes, the Dream King keeps his attentions on my breasts. He pulls me closer to reciprocate the same treatment to the other after a while.

At one point, he brings his hands to my core again, making my body quiver against him.

When I begin to call out his name in the same dazed manner from a while ago, he lifts his head from by chest and kisses my lips, pulling away again to smile down at me, "you feel ready for me now, beloved."

I bite my lips in anticipation.

"Are you ready?" he asks with genuinity.

I nod, "yes."

He pushes himself up and begins to crawl on top of me. His hands parts my legs to make room for himself and I graciously open myself up for him.

I sigh when he presses against me, hands rearing me by my waist. Dream kisses my check, "yes. You're more than ready, aren't you?"

Our eyes lock. He looks at me in expectation. I nod my head again.

He wraps my legs around him as he slowly rocks into me, making me breathlessly moan beneath him.

He sighs, kissing my jaw, all the way down to my neck, sucking on my skin before iterating, "my soft lover, so ready for me."

"Somnia," I whisper, fingers digging into his shoulders.

He hisses when I meet the rolling of his hips with my own. He nips at my neck, "alright, my love. I would not dare deprive you any longer."

A chill runs down my spine when he lifts up and sinks down into me. The action draws out a prolonged cry from my lips. In response, he peppers my neck with kisses while adjusting atop my body.

"So good," I mumble, "so good inside me."

He groans at my words, hands gripping my hips as he slowly begins to push and pull himself into me, "yes, my precious. I'll make you feel good, even more than a while ago, even more than now."

I sigh as Dream kisses my neck, and gently grinds into me.

After a few moments, I tighten my legs around him and whine, "more please. I want to feel you more."

He moans, immediately heeding my cries, hips bucking into me with more fervor, "in imperio tuo."

On your command.

He kisses my lips, repeating, "on your command, beloved, a slave to your command."

My voice hikes up and loudens when his pace grows quicker. I heave in an attempt to even my breathing. My fingers tangling back into his hair for the nth time.

"My sweetness," he says in between thrusts, "such sweet sounds," he moans, "and all for me."

I moan, calling out his name on instinct.

He hums, kissing my cheek, "better now? Isn't it better?"

"Yes, yes, oh, my lord, yes," I whine, "so much better."

He goes wild with the praise. He drinks it up like cool water on a scorching day. He growls as he finds a delicious tempo, quick and full, snapping in and out of me like it was his purpose.

I begin to recite all the Latin praises I could think of.

When I slowly spiral in my pleasure, I call out his name, and when I hardly find it in myself to speak, I bite into him, gnawing at his flesh like it was my deliverance, not thinking about its consequences, not thinking about how it would feel for anyone but me.

He hisses, pushing deeper into me, poking a nerve in my being that breaks my mind, that renders me boneless beneath him.

All at once, my sweet words are morphed into obscenities. All of the praises in my body are burned into oohs and aahs and throaty cries that I never thought myself of producing.

Dream eats it up like candy, taking in my lips with his, making our pants mix into further lascivious noises.

At one point, I am numb to everything but him. At one point, I was at the fullness of his mercy. He could crush me and spit on my bones and I'd thank him. But he does not do this, he does not desecrate my form, he does not disregard my being. Instead he dives into me with adoration, he treats me with divine regard, he stretches me out with care.

I make no other sound than ones of pure enjoyment as the king begins to shift my legs.

I submit to him, to whatever he wants to do with me, and soon, he pushes my knees to my chest and brings my legs to his shoulders.

Now, I was lost to everything save the tension in my core. After adjusting himself against me, breaking into my being as if intent on binding our forms together, I scream out and thrash my hands helplessly at anything, everything I could get my hands on.

When he calls out my name and praises my body, I'm a goner. The Lady be damned. In this moment there was only one, there was only him, the Dream King. Just him, him, him.

And so I scream it out, I scream out his name as my body crumbles against him. I flutter and crash. I tense and release. I was delivered.

He calls out my name in response. He calls out my name and does not dare relent his motions. Next thing I know, I'm shaking all over again with a vengeance as he spills into me, hot, sharp, and blinding.

Somnia pushes my legs apart, though his movements do not at all slow. He digs into me with his heels and pushes his chest flush into mine, cradling me against him, as if he was scared I'd disappear.

Then slowly, slowly, slowly, he allows his pace to relent. Gently, gently, gently, he kisses me and finally gives me a chance to catch my breath, to feel myself on him, to savor this utter bliss between us.

I mumble nothings as I trap him with my limbs. I pull him into me tightly, not wanting him to leave, only wishing that he'd keep me here like this forever.

And then the wildness fades.

In the aftermath of it all, the sounds of strangled breathing persists. Grunts and mewls catch up with us as well, as we both eventually soften against each other's beings.

I let out taut panting sounds against his ear before I nip at his lobe.

I squeal when he laughs, my body was oversensitive to the vibrating of his chuckle.

He stops himself and offers a kiss on my cheek, "my sweet darling."

I close my eyes, allowing myself to savor his scent, his feel, his taste.

Dream continues my neck again, lathering me with more affection, "have I made it up to you yet?"

I nibble at my lip as I nod. He smiles in return.

"I think... you may have ruined every other man for me."

He tenses. I feel him tense above me real time. He pulls his head back, looking down at me so suddenly with a fury, "you dare mean to say you expected to have another besides me after all of this?"

"Well, I-" I wail, body jolting sharply when he ruts into me in offence over my words.

"This," he hisses, "this is more than mockery. This is treachery, this is treason!"

I let out shaky sounds and piercing shrieks when he does not relent.

He only halts when tears begin to lace the corners of my eyes, after I practically call out his name in a plea for my life.

He ends his retaliations with a huff, nostrils flaring, hand grabbing my jaw, "look at me, little one."

I screw my eyes shut. There is a dread that builds in my belly.

"Must I repeat my punishment to have you look?"

I blink back the tears from my eyes as I turn to him. I let out a weak sigh at the sight of him.

"You shall have to make it up to me for that."

I pant at the rigidness of his expression.

"Do you understand me?"

I huff, nodding my head.

"I asked-"

I squeak again when he thrusts.

"-if I am understood."

"Yes, my king."

He hums, or rather, he bellows, "very good then."

[albedosarmpit]

Oof after reading your venti cock rant I AM DOWN BAD my size kink is going FERAL. It's not gonna fit tho like that thing can't go inside me,,,,

if you feel like writing for this, can i please request a smut where Venti and his s/o have sex for the first time and his s/o is like "it's not gonna fit" but he ends up fucking them anyways hfksljdkd (preferably gender neutral reader)

yesyesyesyeysyesy i'd love to- i also wrote an actual story before hand??? this is crazy for me, sorry if it doesnt go exactly as you wanted i think i got carried away idk hdoihsoihv also reader is literally a spaceholder im deserate for venti aoichdsoihvoi sorry if it doesnt make sense and sorry for the rushed ending sodichsoihvos

tags: gn reader, morning sex, morning wood, Venti thinks sex is so normal, ameno powers (i dont know how ameno powers work)

Going out with to the pub with Venti was almost always a bad idea. not only was the invite random, you'd think he would invite you out on fridays or weekdays but no, any day of the week was perfect for him, Other than the random invite you always felt bad leaving Diluc to clean after him.

thankfully, today you were able to join him. somehow, this was the drunkest you've seen Venti, his voice loud and irritating as he stumbled around flirting with almost everyone he sees (as a good bard should) causing Diluc to force the two of you to the attic where he left a spare bed just for this occasion because leaving a cute drunken bard in the streets honestly made Diluc loose sleep.

your arm wrapped around Ventis shoulder, helping him up the stares as he yells down to the other patrons about how he needs to go save the world and how the god of wine needed him to leave, the secondhand embarrassment making your cheeks burn as you finally carried him into the room "w-why are you s-so embarrased?" Venti almost yelled as he fell ontop of you landing on the bed, his hand stroking your cheek, his breath smelling of alcohol as he instantly passed out, you hugged him close to you making sure he was on his side as you made him rest his head on your shoulder.

you wake up just laying there, your head pounding, you couldnt tell what the cause was, a hangover or Ventis constant snoring in your ear, you woke up with him pretty much connected with you, a leg over both of yours and a arm over the top of your chest. this would've been find except you could feel it. something rubbing against you through his tights, you tried to pry away but he wouldnt let you, his eyes opened as he moved a hand to your cheek "5 more minutes? pleasee" Ventis breath stunk of alcohol. you tore his arm off of you and sat their waiting for him to notice the main problem.

Venti didnt say anything but moved his hands up to stretch, letting out a groan as he looked down at his own body, his face red "i-i suppose this is the reason you woke up? there a things even a god cant control im afraid" Venti instantly pushed a blanket off of him and pulled his cock out, the 7 inches instantly making your eyes widen. Venti put his hand at the base and slowly jerked himself off from there, driplets of precum already landing on his clothes "After this we can go back to sleep right?" Venti smiled as he said that. he was pure evil.

you began to get aroused looking at it, seeing him slowly shiver as he put his palm on his tip, Venti looked down to your crotch and smiles "Seems you're enjoying yourself as well, care to join?" Venti put his hand out, the same one he was rubbing his tip with, reached for it, feeling his precum in your own hand as you just watched him continue to jerk off, Venti swirled his hand around and instantly you were floating, Ameno energy swirling around you, taking your clothes off "i suppose we should speed things up" Venti looked at his cock, throbbing in his hand "I am getting pretty desperate~"

Venti smiled again as he moved his hand, forcing you forward onto him, his tip against your hole "V-Venti- thats- i-it wont fit" Venti smiled as he began to hold your right hand with his right hand, his left hand going to your thigh, pushing you down so the tip is inside, the precum acting as lube "come onnn, even i've had bigger" Venti winked as he lowered you down causing you to moan "You do know Morax don't you?" Venti laughed as he got slightly frustrated, forcing you down on his cock entirely, filling you up with his cock causing you to instantly finish causing the god to laugh at you as he came inside of you, cum dripping out of your hole and onto his own cock, he sat you there and made sure you stayed ontop of him, if you were to move the bed would be stained beyond saving. Venti yawned as he closed his eyes, hands wrapping around you as you began to drift off to sleep

[buglyknight]

1198) the fingerprint where her hand is around my throat

waking up from a nightmare

you and your best friend are

killing yourselves

the sun is coming up now

it's bathing the earth in teal

this is it

no

this isnt like ketchup

ketchup? no, this isnt like a topping

was there a point?

what happens when

this is gone again

no, this isnt like a topping

a nightmare into a nightmare and does it ever end

does it ever end was there any point to this?

give me back the stars then take them and take them and

your best friend and you are dying

was there a point to this?

did it ever feel good

all of this existing?

right, right, right.

its spun with thread so thickly now

youre losing count

no, this isnt like a topping

ah, i see was there a point to that?

or this?

right, right

how far back?

dont go back to bed.

youre both going to

do it again and again

what was the point to this?

birth to death what was the point?

right, no, this isnt like a topping

you keep losing yourself to the thought

right this is abnormal

abstract

thoughts you arent

supposed to look so closely

your life is like bits of flaky paint that chips away

its not meant to be peered too closely at

dont go to bed

he stares at his phone

there's a noose around his neck

you cant tell him about the gun you've bought, right?

neither of you say a word and you both die while screaming

what if all of this was like a topping?

right, youre looking too closely the paint is flaking

dont go back to bed from birth to death

from birth to death

theres no point left

the stars arent there

most people have stars there

not you

right?

dont go back there

dont go back

stay here stay here

was there a point from birth to death

there has to be someone who

closes the door behind everyone

when they all leave you behind

like the ending of a sentence

something has to punctuate it

i guess thats what you are

sleep and wake and sleep and stars in paper and drink and smoke and sober and oh right you have organs, somewhere in there right?

right and if you die your friend keeps going and going and going

do you own your own silence

how many thoughts were between that line and the prior?

lifetimes are breathing and dying

right was there a point to this

dad?

birth to death

why do you keep

overlooking that one spot

didnt someone use to be there?

on a bleacher and i loved your stomach and

from birth to death why

you keep skipping this part

go back

was there a point?

birth to wake to school to work to sleep to death to death to death to death to death to death

dont go to bed

is there a silver lining

if you keep skipping the best part

where her hand is around my throat

right youre looking too closely at the layers

wrapped up in the painting for you

its like knowing that the whole world on the other side of the mirror is amazing but only being able to see the fingerprint you leave on the glass

right, to build a puppet to go and learn and grow and then to work and work and work and die

why do you keep skipping past the only part that's worth it

did i already get all the good and now i'm paying for it?

i guess in a way that makes sense but hold on what do i get out of it

i see the brain is like that too

now im paying off the debt of childhood

just there isnt anything good left

but debt and debt and debt and debt

why do you keep skipping the best part

wasnt there a girl and bleachers and gym class and sometime after another school with college and a movie with morse code and years go by and they somehow never end up around each other in the end and again and again and again and wait that was the best part and now youre paying for it without knowing when it ended? is the brain like that too where you got everything and now youre paying it off why cant i see the rest of this fingerprint i feel like im just here for punctuation was there a point except for punctuation? does punctuation own itself?

oh right, isnt everything supposed to be like that part in the middle? oh youre supposed to keep looking for the stuff in the middle without there being stuff in the middle

dad?

is this really it?

stop crying

whats wrong with me whats wrong with me whats wronjg with me what s worng with me whats worng with me whats swrong with me whats sworng with me

thats right im so ugly

so ugly so ugly so ugly

is it going to get like that again?

i really just want to go back to bed

shut up and keep paying off your debt

you took out a loan on the stars and the butterflies and now you have to

pay it all back?

can i go back to the nightmare

where me and my best friend were killing ourselves?

before i woke up this morning?

id rather be anywhere but here

why does everything else keep going and going and going

was there a point to this?

[sanctifiedasylum]

The tolerant intolerant.

As a constant over thinker, I often wake up at night pondering the complexities of my world.  My brain, much like dancing bears at a disco party, bounces from one subject to the next. All it takes to get into this realm is a post, a word, a video, a picture, or a thought, and here I am.   I find it is sometimes quite the rabbit hole to find ones self digging in. 

It's complex and maddening, yet peaceful in a way. I am always searching for something, asking  questions, and learning new things. Anything to make anything make sense or to expand my thoughts. 

As an empathetic person, I often find myself trying to understand where others may be coming from. My other half, as well as others, tell me I should not like or love everyone. Because they sure as shit, will not always return it to me.

I often think that's such a cynical way to look at life. But I, I do try to walk in others' shoes, so to speak. I do try to find at least one good thing in almost every person to like. Even if I dont actually like them. I will try to find one positive thing to give them a human existence.  Even if they're not all that pleasant. I once kept in mind that someone I worked with always wore nice shoes. Just so that I could not see them as a soulless asshole.

 They also like to tell me that not everyone is my friend. Which unless they are utterly the dregs of the earth and do unspeakable things, I get where they're coming from. Not everyone is going to like me, nor I them. Not everyone is inherently good. I do not like every person I meet. I'm not going to let people walk on me. Some I will try to avoid at all costs. So what he said may be partially true. I find that I make almost everyone that I meet my friend, if they are receptive. I do still try to give most people the benefit of a doubt. That is, until they prove me wrong, or I feel something is off. Once I'm proven wrong, though,  I will avoid them at all costs.  Im not a confrontational person. 

I don't like to argue or debate unless I'm pushed into it. Thus the reason I write more than I speak. I often find my distress in confrontation comes to fruition most when I should be sleeping. When the rest of my world is snoring in my ear. I worry over small things, big things, and the whole entire universe. I know that half the people I know would abandon me in a heartbeat because I do not believe exactly what they believe in. I try not to stress over this idea, but sometimes, I still do it on a daily basis. 

Thus, the reason I'm awake at this ungodly hour with a 4lb , 4 footed feline on my chest, playing on my phone. 

My first thought at 3 a.m., after thinking I was hungry and wondering why my chest felt so heavy, was:  why are those who profess they practice tolerance, the least tolerant people we know? They preach and spew their rhetoric at you and expect you to accept it. It doesn't matter what it is.  Doesn't matter which side you're on, or if you stand in the middle somewhere. If its not what they believe, you have to accept it. Or you are wrong.  They can not afford you the same courtesy of understanding your opinions, humor, sarcasm, or feelings. They can not fathom you think slightly different from them.  They do not realize that while you may not agree on all things. If, and that's a big If, "If" they were speaking in rational voices, and not pushing it in your face daily, or by screaming insults; they might find you have some common ground. But they plug their ears, open their mouths, and spew their animosity. They post their posts, comment their comments,  and shut their minds down. They scream from the highest towers that you and your beliefs are unacceptable. That you are inconsequential.  That they've seen the light and saw your true colors, and guess what? You're a monster to them. You are drinking the Kool-aid.  Your thoughts show the ugly side of everyone they know.  Whether you be wrong or right, they can not see clearly enough through their tolerant/intolerant conjectures to accept that someone else disagrees. Or maybe agrees, but has a different view on how much they accept it.  They can not have a decent, calm debate without spewing anger or hatred. Even if they claim to be your friend or family. You are to believe exactly as they say and do and follow it without regard to your own consciousness. You're not to ask questions. Accept it or be damned. Accept it, or you're an imbecile, a degenerate if you will. 

It hurts my heart most days. Friends and family are constantly berating each other because they don't have the same beliefs. They're blocking and unfriending, in some cases just not associating with those they used to care about. Over what? People who could care less about how we survive what they create?   In reality, we civilians mostly have the same basic beliefs. We all want the same things in life. Security in our future, a home, food, family, a life well lived. What one person believes is the best life, may not be the same as another. But inherently, the roots for our basic needs are the same.  

Some people just enjoy making a mountain out of a mole hill and then try to ski down it on a straw mat with thumbtacks in it. Screaming their obscenities all the way down. They'll do it just to try and get your attention to make themselves heard.  So unhappy with their own life that they must always make their presence known.

If I could, I would tune it all out. But that's quite impossible to do without moving to a deserted island in the middle of the ocean and shutting off all technology. I feel like an island near Guam sounds nice, and the people are lovely there. So I've heard. (** Notice the sarcasm?**)

Now I'm not perfect! I, too, fall in the trap at times. I, too, have beliefs I sometimes feel passionate about or something that resonates with some things I believe. (Current rant at hand, case in point) I, too, can sometimes post or say ridiculous things because I find them entertaining, or because I think some people might relate or even agree.  I, too, can post wrong things. But I do learn from them. Sometimes, I will do so knowing it's gonna stir the shit pot, and I'm holding the spoon. Lol, I confess, sometimes I may instigate. But I do try and understand another persons views on most days. I don't try to go and rage at them over their ideas or views. Though, I often times wonder why they feel they need to do so to me and others. I try not to get inflamed with all that I see.

I may not agree, but I do not begrudge them for their beliefs.  A quote I liked when I was young comes to mind. I have no idea where I saw it or who said it. "Believe in what you want, but don't infringe on the rights of others."  I try my best to let people be themselves.  Sometimes, it's hard to live by, especially when people are constantly berating others. Or when internet warriors go on the war path.  I am far from perfect. But I am a work in progress. 

I digress, back to the  3 am rant:

I got up this early and thought it was quite the paradox, this professing tolerance while not quite tolerating others.  Thus, an innocent look on the internet delved me deeper into a sleepless morning.  I've been writing and reading, it's now 10:30 am. ( I should be sleeping. But alas, my sandman detests me. ) 

I've been reading Wikipedia,  Google,  Reddit... all on the Paradox of Tolerance and the subjects that go with it.  So my rabbit hole has begun. My brain may not retain it all, but I am reading it anyway. I forget most things nowadays, which is a blessing and a curse.  Honestly, I had heard of The Paradox of Tolerance but never really read anything about it. You may go look it up yourself... if you like. It's entirely too much to post about. There's plenty of astute theories and discussions out there.  Reddit has a great thread going. I've been reading that for quite some time. Seeing all the takes on it.  Eli5

https://www.reddit.com/r/explainlikeimfive/comments/17c3usv/eli5_what_is_the_paradox_of_tolerance_and_is_it/

The thing with the paradox of tolerance, as one person stated and I can concur. Is that the one thing I can't wrap my head around, is, how do we decide who the tolerant and intolerant are? Isn't me? Isn't  you? ( Haha, and now I'm singing Vasoline in my head.)  If so, if it isn't us, who is it?   I think I, myself, I am stuck.  I think I am stuck in the middle. Like a fly in the vasoline. ( I'm still singing in my head.)  I'm tolerant of most things in life unless you are causing deep direct harm to another individual being. 

(*A social contract comes to mind. A social contract then has been created. Another solution is to place tolerance in the context of social contract theory: to wit, tolerance should not be considered a virtue or moral principle, but rather an unspoken agreement within society to tolerate one another's differences as long as no harm to others arises from same.*)

If you hurt someone beyond compare, whether it be mentally or physically. Then I'm not so tolerant.  There are some things I will never be tolerant of. Sexual crimes, child abuse, elderly abuse, mental abuse, animal cruelty,  murder, rape, things of that evil nature...nope. I'll never be tolerant of any of that. But I also feel that punishment should be a just punishment for those crimes. There may be other things that just hurt my feelings. I tolerate them. Because I'm grown. Well, I'll only put up with so much before I become intolerant. You may do something stupid for a while, but if you continually do it, and, do not change or grow.  Well then, I will lose my tolerance for you. You now have to deal with your own damn issues. Im not going to keep inviting the snake into the chicken coop, even though I know it's a good snake doing what good snakes do. You have to push me pretty fucking hard to piss me off, and to get me to the point of hating you.  Trust me, it has happened. I'm not perfect.

 " Your right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins.” I will not allow you to abuse me in any form. 

But  tolerance is also a smokescreen that a lot of people use ( on either side). Some people just have shitty attitudes in life and live to make others miserable. Others just can't comprehend not everyone is going to agree with you. They use their strife or anger to justify their crappy behavior. If they think they are absolutely right, you are wrong, and you are not being tolerant enough. 

They don't want to be labeled,  but will ultimately label you.

If you dont see it their way. You're a racist. You're being ugly. You're phobic if you dont want it their way. You're a traitor to your country. You're an extremist if you believe all people should be able to live the way they want as long as they bring no harm to others. If you're pro this, or pro that, or maybe somewhere in between, you're wrong. Dont want biological men to compete against women... you're wrong. You want women to compete in men's sports... you're wrong. Do you want women in the draft? Oh no, not our girls... but you want equal rights?  You are wrong. Guns, no guns, holler "take them away", or "let me have my guns"...you're wrong. Think a baby begins at conception? Don't think it's a baby at all?  You're wrong. It's your body, your choice. But God forbid, you think there are exceptions or think it's wrong to use it as birth control.  You're wrong.  You don't want the evil orange felon of a man in office. You're labeled a radical and misogynistic bigot. You don't want the cackling hen in office. You're against women's reproductive rights, and you're not a woman. Vote, dont vote.. You don't want either or in the office. You're wrong! You're not down with the vibes, people.  You're drinkin the Kool-aid man. Pardon me... not man, uh woman, uh, person, uh shit ... <<< Oh, you dont want to use the accepted pro-nouns of the self proclaimed tolerant,   they, them, she, he, her, him, dog, cat, clown, twatwaffle,   Fuck you, you're a gender bigot, you're homophobic. ( Might just be that you're old and don't remember that bullshit nonsense). Believe in science? Astrology?Believe the world is flat? You're  nuts! Believe in ghosts, spirits, or aliens? Witchcraft? Mothernature? Are you a tree hugger? You are wrong. No pipeline, build a pipeline, build a wall, and don't build a wall. Energy, jobs, world trade, nope, you are all wrong. Wars, no wars?  Peace?  Protest, dont protest? Clean air, green solutions. You want people to come in the country legally... not illegally, you're a hater and a traitor. No wars, you're a pacifist who doesn't think in reality or dreamer who has no clue in life. Peace is an illusion.  You want lower interest rates.. lower gas rates, lower grocery rates, you're wrong. You want foreign people who don't even live here buying all our farmland, or real-estate, or maybe you want help for our farmers? Nope, you are wrong.  Military and police to protect us, wrong. Dont care who marries who. You're wrong. Believe in this god or that God, no God at all, you're wrong.  Taxes, no taxes,  You ain't black, you ain't white, you're not green, red or blue,  but you just a memba of a union that makes you do what they do. You're  so wrong. Death for murderers, or let em rot, oh you're wrong. Don't obey the laws. Obey the laws. Wrong! You're a religious fanatic 'cause you go to church, a temple, a mosque, a synagogue, but you're a heathen 'cause you dont. Wrong. We're all just wrong.

No one is going to be a lemming and think everything the same. If that was the case, we would all be running head first off the cliffs at this point. 

Yeah,  you can't win either side you go. You could say the grass is green, the sky is blue, and there is always gonna be that one person whose perception is that it's all purple.  ( Btw, that person is 5, so I give her leeway, and I like that she sees things in vivid color.) But brow beating people into believing your way is best is not gonna change their mind that the sky is purple.  Brow beating them only confirms that their stance is right and you are wrong. 

 So why the fuck ( pardon me) are you all going off the deep-end? Why the fuck are you losing friends n family? Every one has different ideas in this world. Different perceptions of how they want their life to be. We grow from understanding each other and respecting our differences.  If you debate them in a respectful and calm matter... you might actually learn, or change someone's mind. ( Let me reiterate CALM, and my acronym... Caring and Loving mankind.  ) It could go either way, you just never know. You talk calmly and rationally. You may just learn something. Those people we are arguing over up in there in the government could care less, truly, what we do in life. As long as we follow some semblance of societys laws. The laws, no matter which way we turn, will change again at some point.  They always do. It's why we choose to vote.  It's why we are a constitutional republic. Yay, America!

I get it,  be angry if you see true racism, true homophobia, domestic and child abuse, and true hate anywhere. Be angry, stop it, say something. You see harm coming to another soul... stop it. Don't let someone kidnap the kid off the street or beat a person to death. Be kind to your fellow human beings, do unto others as you would have done to you. Show some damn respect and truly tolerate our differences.

But, for those of us here in the middle of all this rhetoric.... we're just trying to survive the rest of you and lean towards what affiliates with our beliefs just a tad more than the other. We don't have to be for one side or the other. But we lean either way, and we get berated just the same. Nowadays, political or belief wise,  if it doesn't align, you're wrong.  It's shameful, really. We should all feel shame that we treat each other so disrespectfully. I do, n I try my hardest to let you all be you. But it's getting tiring. It's tiring battling all your hate. 

Honestly, I don't give a rats ass what you do in your own  life as long as it doesn't hurt anyone and doesn't involve hurting children or animals. As a grown ass adult, make your choices, live the way you want, sleep with who you want, and vote the way you want.  Protest or debate peacefully when you feel the need. Protect yourself the way you see fit.  But deal with the consequences and actions. I live with my choices and my regrets daily. Grow up. Live a happy  life.

I Saw this in a comment in a thread. 

*As a result, the definition of an intolerant person has become so muddied and loose, to the point where it might as well mean, “someone who believes things that make me feel bad.*    

This struck a cord.  That's exactly how it's becoming. Everyone hates me, nobody likes me, I guess I'll just go out n eat worms. Except... they don't go out and eat worms they go and scream that you must believe like they do. Why, because you hurt their delicate feelings. If you don't well, we already went through that above.  We're all a little fucked in the head. What has become of us? 

Caught this guy's site while reading. 

https://markmanson.net/the-paradox-of-tolerance

>Tolerance means to accept something’s existence, even if you disagree with or dislike it. Tolerance of a thing does not require you to embrace it.

The irony is that in order to practice tolerance, you must be willing to sit with things that upset you or make you uncomfortable.

Yet, if your adopted ethic is that no one should ever be upset or uncomfortable, then you make any sort of tolerance impossible.<

Ok...well it 2 pm... just thoughts in my head. Im tired now. This world weighs me down. I love you all. I believe you may believe in what you believe in, live your life the way you want to, no matter your sex, race, or religion. Or even your political affiliation. Just make it a life full of love for yourself and your fellow human beings. 

It took me two days to write that and here I am on day 3, Wednesday. I wrote all that before I saw anything later in the evening. 

I am ashamed once again about human decency. A second assassination attempt has shown just how ugly we, as humans, can be.  Love Trump or hate him, there is something inherently wrong if you think a man being murdered is ok.  Last time, I saw people posting, " Oh, they should have got a better shot!"  Now I see people either spouting the same rhetoric  or yet, still others saying " Oh, I don't wish him dead, but.......  if it happens, I won't miss him." This nonchalant stance is the same as wishing him dead, in my opinion.  You say you don't wish him dead, but you will revel in the fact when it happens.  It's just a fancy way of saying you hope they kill him.  The funny thing is, if it was her, you'd be in an outrage at the injustice of it all. You be bringing pitchforks and storming the castle.  Crying Why aren't they doing more? Who is to blame?   The non-existence of our presidents voice and vice president lack of response " We dont condone violence."  That's a lack of reaction, not a condemnation. Playing it down. The media is in the "Look,  if I brush all this dirt under the couch... no one can see it, so it's not there mode. (Yet we all know it's there being ignored, just collecting more crap to add to the pile.)   I don't  hate anyone for this thought process. Or trying to rationally make it make sense.  Frankly, it's in our nature to sometimes have those private thoughts. However, bringing them to fruition out for all the world to see. Or, enacting upon them, and premeditating the rationalization of someones death. Well, that just shows how devoid of emotion and how desensitized we have become to murder and to killing another human because we don't agree with them.  I'm ashamed and saddened to see all of it. We can not be that calloused in life about death and mayhem.

I never thought I'd be sharing a video from Chris Cuomo. But here I am . I'm giving this man much respect for sharing his view. 

https://youtu.be/MSuefLVK6aw?si=C09UBnr2JN7rzwEU

My fellow human beings... He's right.

We can do better!

[irrelevaantidiot]

Get ready for a yap fest in 3.. 2.. 1..

OKAY so ur AU right. I fr love the concept and everything, so obviously, brainworms.

One of my fav bands (the crane wives) has recently relased a new album, so obviously, again, brainworms.

So. My brain has connected the two into a very specific thing that could only work if i draw it. But im fucking lazy.

So get ready for Moths Inconherent Description Of A Big Nonexistent Drawing With Some Of The Lyrics To "Predator" By TCW Because Why The Fuck Not ™️

"Whats the worst thing that could happen, whats the worst thing you can imagine" - not really literal to the lyrics, maybe just astrobiology hanging out together or smth?

"This world is a nasty place, Im afraid to get comfortable" - BH feeling out of place on uh.. earth? Where the fuck is the universe set in (personal headcanon but shhh)

"Unavoidable disaster" - The Tree incident

"Serial overreactor" - This could be Fanny imo. From BHs perspective she is overreacting about the team loosing and the whole pact thing

"My head is a nasty place, I'm afraid to get comfortable" - BH getting ✨️The nightmares✨️ after decapitating his boyfriend i mean boyfriend i mean best friend

"What were you thinking, shouldnt you know better" - BH blaming himself for the incindent and stuff

"You opened a door for an apex predator" Tree trauma monster nightmare demon thingy

I dont think the rest of the lyrics fit the au or astrobiology itself tbh but the brainworms have taken over. Anyway ramble over i am so sorry for this

Peace

OHOH OH OH SHIT YOURE RIGHT. I AM ADDING ONTO THIS INTERPRETATION. IF YOU DONT MIND

the whole "bh feels out of place on earth" thing like. makes complete sense to me actually. in my gijinka interpretation he was a space creature before the more "human" form I guess i can say. and he doesn't remember anything before the new form. it drives him mad tbh.

"Your heart is a nasty place—I'm afraid to say no to you" An exchange of sorts. Trauma monster Tree is like "I hate you you suck" and Black Hole just kind of. takes it. because, well, he blames himself for what happened. so he feels he HAS to take the deprecation or whatever his mind throws at him. the torment and guilt and anything else. hence "I'm afraid to say no to you" being blackholecore. listening to this song makes my brain switch the imaginary animatic in my head between waking moments and the horrific dreams "I am fighting for survival" I can imagine this being Black Hole being constntly and constantly haunted by the incident and the dream stuff, and he just keeps going and going. Idk how to explain it just works man :gay: "I keep forgetting that you won't learn so I keep getting hurt" I can imagine this being Tree himself telling Black Hole that, atleast in his dreams. (Trauma monster Tree is always switching between like "I hate you I hate you this is your fault" and "I forgive you. I love you." type shit.) I imagine Tree trauma monster saying those kind of things as a result of the shit he has gone through tpot 8-10. especially in black hole's nightmare?? it just makes sense to me. not sure how to explain.

get shoved into the brainrot playlist thank you for sharing this ramble with me. ALSO TYSM IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THIS AU AND THOUGHT THIS UP. new animatic idea.

[girlwiththehighbeams]

hi please dont feel the need to read this. im having a bad night and wrote a lot to/about/whatever this is one of my exes. its poorly written and not meant for eyes but i need to get it out. not just out of my body but out into the wild. i dont know if that makes sense.

02052023 liu

the last time i remember seeing you was on my 19th birthday. it’s been a year and change since then. im making a box of annie’s mac n cheese in my mom’s kitchen, sitting on the counter and waiting for the pasta to boil, writing letters to you on my laptop like i used to our sophomore year of high school. the last time i saw you i cried in your car, gave you a bottle of marc jacobs daisy like you used to wear and let me wear when i felt dysphoric. i wasn’t sure if it would be weird to hug you. i think i did. you gave me two bottles of loose leaf tea and a treble clef necklace i’ve since lost, though it’s probably in one of the moving boxes in my bedroom here but i don’t think i care too much to look for it. i’ve dated one person since then, maybe two if you count tori. i half count tori. no one has felt like my home since you. you aren’t my home anymore. i think i might hate you actually. you did incredibly cruel things to me for months, you put me through hell just after i finally escaped my father, you went about life without a second thought for my wellbeing, you lied to me about loving me. do you still think about me the way i think about you? maybe you still write letters to me when youre making dinner too. i doubt that though honestly. you have holloway and meadow (friends i introduced you to. my friends you lied to and took from me.) and you told them you thought you were falling out of love with me before you told me. i found that out when i was looking through your texts with holloway while you slept in our shithole apartment. i loved that apartment. that was home. the two most important people in my life, both now removed. maybe groton estates is cursed. maybe im the one that’s cursed. do you remember that night you made us tomato soup? i was reading adachi to shimamura on the living room chair while ginger cuddled up next to me, and you were off in your little kitchen world making some damn good soup. fuck me that was tasty. we had so much leftover and never ate it. i regret not eating more. i wish i made you more food i was proud of. im not a great cook. i made you a lot of pancakes and french toast and mac n cheese tho. the guinevere elizabeth staples. i wonder if you ever miss them? it wasn’t just the food. when i ran away from my house for a bit i remember i took your car while you were asleep still and went to stop and shop and got stuff for blueberry pancakes and surprised you with breakfast in bed. i made one of the pancakes with blueberries in the shape of a heart. the photo is still on my phone. i just looked at it and honestly, it wasn’t the prettiest. but still, we had the kind of love where i would go out in the morning and make you shitty pancakes to wake you up with alongside a kiss. i don’t really know where im going with this or why im writing this. i miss being loved and for a time you loved me. it’s my belief that once you love someone a part of you never stops loving them. the love you have for them always stays inside you. i carry my love for you every minute of every day, and im not sure if thats a good thing or not. i miss the certainty i had in us. i remember looking up hair stylists when i still wanted that bubblegum pink bob we talked about. one of them had an about me that said they married their high school sweetheart. i remember being so sure that was going to be us. everyone that i’ve spoken to about our relationship says that you changed. you did change a great deal throughout our relationship. aren’t we supposed to love each other despite change? isn’t that wwhat true love is? maybe your grandparents were right. maybe we weren’t truly in love. i still love you. i hate you and i love you and i think about you all the time. youre everywhere i go. youre in my car in my passenger seat. youre in my wardrobe still. i have that flannel you got from your grandfather and that striped crop you never wore the dress you wore to the homecoming i was too scared to go to. youre in my nightmares and my stories and my memories. youre in the bottle of wine i keep in my closet and the joints i roll for myself. i work at the starbucks i used to take you to when you were having bad days, and i think about you every time i make an iced white mocha with cold foam and caramel drizzle. how many times did i place that order for you? i drive past the dunkin you used to work in on my way to school, and i still haven’t broken the habit of checking to see if your car is in the parking lot. i pass your mom’s old apartment complex on the same commute. i still go up there sometimes, just for the hell of it. i still have all those polaroids we took, the sheet from the photo booth at the casino’s arcade, all the letters you wrote me. i was cleaning out my old bedroom and found the parking ticket from when i took you to see the front bottoms. sometimes i listen to maps when i miss you the most. and red swan. i can’t watch attack on titan anymore. youre everywhere in that show. i dont think you ever even read the volumes i got for you for our second christmas. you got me dresses i still wear and bras i dont. my favourite manga and some hot chocolate. i dont know how to end this but i think i dont want to keep writing anymore. i havent stopped crying and my pasta is getting cold.

[matrixwhore]

the scene opens on a frame of the fire and a burning body.

noooowwwwww. dont come at me crazy behind this.  i am someone who resonated with what happened here. i was someone who learned the hard way cis men dont need the security and secrecy of a private home to show you nightmares. they can be walking monsters out in the open. and it really drove home that the rules are very different for them. when i left home and went out in the world just like claudia. i thought leaving home was all i needed and i wasn’t prepared for any of what came at me. so i feel for claudia. i don’t think it was bad writing just because it was added at all or where they did this to make her stronger. im not even sure i would say this made her stronger more than it made her incredibly hyper vigilant. she was already observant, but she never lets her guard down again especially after what happens when she comes home, which is why she picked up on lestat turning antoinette. it made her mind tunnel vision on murder to the point where she lost sight of whats true about louis and that was the fatal flaw in her plan. 

more than anything it added to her wanting to kill the man (lestat who she likens killer to) that crushed her illusion of heaven and introduce her to this nonlife in hell with demons that she had to become and depend on and fear endlessly. like i have to wonder what that does to a person. to believe you’ve died and gone to heaven only to fully wake up and realize you’re in a worse hell. bc she lived in a hell already and then the fires of that hell took everything she knew in life and she did succumb to her imminent death so she probably did think heaven was next. she thought she was free of it. so what does that do to embrace death and to know heaven was snatched from you? that there is no rest in peace for you and you inherited damnation and you didn't do anything to deserve the eternal suffering you’re being made to endure but you have to endure it. if you get me started on my thoughts on this irt heaven and buffy i will just start barking. yall say she came back wrong i say she should have come back worse and she’d be right

what do you do when the world around you insists you be a monster when all you want to be is a woman. what can you do but lick the flames they would have burn and consume you back and become a dragon. so the next time they allow you to say your peace you set everything ablaze with your fury and remind them they denied you ever knowing peace.

claudia’s living hell was a mother who died and a father who abandoned her with an aunt who abused her. growing up poor in the jim crow south with no prospects and no way out. her hopes and illusion of seeing heaven was shattered by the worse hell filled with damned men conditioning the care they show her with what they feel entitled to take from her. doomed to never really grow up but simply to exist always in stasis and in proximity to wealth with no real access to it and no way out. dying too young and never living and never staying dead and always in pieces and always being shuffled around and placed and never seen as a whole anything. not even outside of her cage. she doesn’t get gentle. she doesn’t get easy love. she doesn’t get companionships without horrifying power imbalances. it was right there in the “who’s gonna fuck me scene” and they never addressed it bc it was sidelined by lestat’s infidelity. by the relationship that takes precedent over everything. over helping her learn to be in this way not that they could. she is theee immortal tragedy amongst them even in death.

she’s has faults that make sense for what she is. a child vampire. so how much can you hold against her. she is not in any position to ever be able to properly cope or reach an emotional maturity. she is turned into a forever victim whose only outlet was to kill with impunity—so she doesn’t get empathy either.

breaking her leg was a call back to louis breaking the wing of the bird and lestat calling her one. it was breaking her ability to fly the coup, and live free of their gothic house of lies. so they pluck her feathers fine. she’ll learn to see the scars as scales and become a worse monster than they ever imagined. one you shouldn’t ever underestimate. idk that this was a weak narrative to make her stronger or whatever it was that rolin was getting at in that after interview. to me it fed her understanding that some things can only be stopped with the only dark gift she can give. death in finality. i know the fucking feeling

iwtv ep 5 rewatch thoughts

opening with the scene within which i have built a home and become a permanent resident. right here in the moment rashmand smiles stupidly and louis slonks (🤭) every last drop of his blood. how anyone thinks they’re boring idk idk idk

they are being clear here that this isn’t consumption for the sake of sustenance. this is bloodletting as sex play and as power play. Danny is not having dinner. so its clear that this isn’t feeding as a meal but it is feeding as sexual exhibition at its most delicious. Danny is reading about claudia’s violent acts via the written recording of her victim’s last words while loumand basically vampire fuck at the other end of the table. this is also setting up the sexual violence to come for claudia and also for louis.

i think it is intentional that louis is the one feeding from armand for several reasons. one being because of what lestat does to him, which we see later on. this is power play for louis in a setting where he has voluntarily and possibly in some aspects dubiously relinquished control over to his lover armand. also bc of the connection between daniel and armand. they are revealing rashid as armand slowly here and his and louis’ involvement with daniel in the past. Daniel isn’t dumb. they know he can figure out the inconsistencies of louis drinking from armand and louis drinking from damek. this leads to daniels curiosity about how armand tastes like and his weight and louis puts daniel’s hidden attraction out on display against his wishes to throw him off. and daniel orders rashid around to take back some power.

i also think it’s a call back to the power dynamic of their first meeting. louis has power over daniel, and it seems he’s the one in control of the entire situation but then he checks in with armand before moving forward. in this moment in the present dubai 2020 setting louis has power over daniel (regardless of him no longer being that naive young man) and he plays the role of the one with the power over rashid, but the power he is receiving is from armands 500+ year old blood that he is offering to louis as the character he is playing. lord take me.

i think it’s interesting that daniel is feasting on claudia’s private memories but objects to louis reading and exposing his personal thoughts. even tho louis has shown time and again that he does that and would do it again. choices/consent is the big issue in this episode.

Daniel: man with green vest: please no. man with fat fingers: please stop. window washer: i can’t die like this. woman with purple shoes: please. boy with inner tube and dog: let my dog live. please no. please stop. stop. oh here’s a good one—man in the last row of The Son of Sheik picture show: You said you had cigarettes.

this is the first recounts we hear him read from claudia’s journal—claudia, who did not get a say in whether her voice and story be used by louis, armand and daniel in this way. He reads this and it’s clear that he [daniel] hadn’t actually consented to being the voyeur of loumand’s sex play given his visible discomfort/agitation. He continues anyways, trying his best to focus on the task at hand and not his bisexual longing for the men at the other end of the table bc even with everything he is reading and witnessing he is still attracted to them in all their insanity and monstrosity.

im interested in the fact that he pointedly reads out (“here’s a good one”) the misleading nature of the last one. “You said you had cigarettes.” i think it speaks to the fact that daniel came here to dubai for a supposed second interview and is slowly but surely realizing he is getting something else entirely. he continues “School teacher, guard your heart. i’m trying to think of something more fucked up than this.” he could be just talking about what claudia has written, but i think it’s also the fact that this is the section of his reading that loumand have chosen to be overtly sexual in front of him for as he reads. all this and he doesn’t even know yet of rashid being armand and his role in claudia’s death, though i’m sure he’s having suspicions of everything by now. also that louis, with being faced with the piece of claudia he doesn’t like to acknowledge, the monstrosity of her vampire nature, focuses of drinking from armand the man who killed his beloved daughter (something he said about “i run to the bottle” etc. etc). it does in fact get more fucked up danny.

and when armand implies that daniel is no better by revealing the danger it poses on louis and exposing louis’ suicidality without his permission (“he lives to share these opinions even when they are not solicited”) and revealing he doesn’t even want this book to happen, louis fights back by leaning into his power over daniel and exposing his thoughts about armand, and continues to, even when danny makes it clear his thoughts were not being voluntarily shared—that he did not want louis in his mind at all. he even interrupts rashmand in the middle of telling daniel he wouldn’t let him near his neck to offer up more information abt rashid (much to armands annoyance) that clearly isn’t even true after reading daniel’s mind again when daniel just explicitly told him not to. and when louis does that daniel fights back by leaning into his perceived power over rashid—louis’ servant—by demanding more of something to drink without even looking at him. and at this armand picks up his lil ipad and leaves without even picking up daniel’s glass, being the one who is actually the most powerful in the room. this is crazy. this is actually insane.

all this and armand is the one who killed claudia!!!! the only one who doesn’t get to fight back against her agency being taken from her in this scene!!! i’m going to fucking throw up. who is bored with them!? they are literally putting on thee insane sexy bdsm emo freaks show like…

“ The Son of Sheik” also alludes to the upcoming sexual assault btw. It’s a sequel to “The Sheik” where the protagonist is the son of the sheik in the first film who falls in love with a traveling dancer Yasmine. He rapes her out of retaliation for having been kidnapped and later whipped, which he believes to be her fault bc she is falsely accused of it. like in this episode and like claudia, yasmine’s rape is strongly implied in the movie with the use of pointed language and a scene cut.

this scene closes out with daniel pointing out he can’t get to accurate statistics of claudia’s murders to corroborate her accounts whether he thinks its more or less than what she recounts im unsure. louis points out that he wouldn’t be able to get an accurate account anyways bc of their disposal practices and how cities tend to downplay the dangers within them. daniel wanting all the details and louis making it clear he will have to accept that he can’t always have all the details will be a point of contention later on as we know.

[kpostedsum]

high | d.m

summary: you find an unhealthy way of coping after draco cheats on you

warnings: drug use (marijuana) angsty¿, cheating, illusions to sex

song: habits - tove lo

a/n: this fic isn’t meant to romanticize drug use in any way. i also know nothing abt weed so LOL and very rushed & not edited

masterlist | taglist

I eat my dinner in my bathtub

Then I go to sexclubs

Watching freaky people gettin' it on

It doesn't make me nervous

If anything I'm restless

Yeah, I've been around and I've seen it all

you had a few minutes left of your charms class which was your last class before the weekend. you wanted nothing more than to get out of here and cuddle up with your boyfriend— who was enjoying his free period right now.

draco was one of the best boyfriends you could ask for, the frequent dates, gifts, and attention— it was more than you could wish for.

“you’re excused. you essays are due at the beginning of next week” snapes monotone voice dragged on as you quickly packed up your things and made your way to the slytherin common room.

I get home, I got the munchies

Binge on all my Twinkies

Throw up in the tub

Then I go to sleep

And I drank up all my money

Days get kinda lonely

entering the slytherin common room your eyes immediately searched for a certain blond boy, yet he was nowhere to be found. you made your way to the boys dorms in hopes of finding him there but you’re quickly interrupted by two familiar voices.

“why hello y/n, marvellous weather we’re having today aren’t we?” theo asked looking towards the ceiling and smiling as if he were outside, blaise blocking your path as he did so.

“i’m not sure what weather you’re talking about since we’re inside but i am okay thank you” you responded with a chuckle, trying to make your way past blaise.

“wait y/n” he stopped you. “can i borrow the astronomy notes? i would ask luna but i can’t find her anywhere” blaise continued.

they both seemed awfully on edge and anxious, you figured it was just quidditch nerves getting to them since there was an upcoming game this week.

“i have yet to finish my astronomy notes, but i did see luna in the great hall if you want her notes. now if you’d excuse me i’d like to see draco” you said trying to push past the two boys who still wouldn’t let you through.

“forget malfoy! let’s do something instead, we’re so much more fun than him, right blaise?” theo said giving blaise a pointed look as he threw his arm around your shoulder.

“right you are nott, let’s go!” blaise continued also throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you away from the boys dorm.

“what? no, i have plans with draco. now excuse me” you said pushing them both off and heading towards dracos door.

as you get closer to his door you can hear heavy breathing, pants and skin slapping on skin. you’re confused, you figured draco would be taking a nap or running over drills for quidditch practice. the closer you get, the louder the noises become.

“pans, you feel so good”

you recognize that voice anywhere.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

quickly you turned your head towards blaise and theo who had their heads lowered in shame, refusing to meet your gaze. “is this some kind of sick joke, are you guys pulling a prank or something because this isn’t funny” you said seriously not wanting to believe what you’re hearing from inside of your boyfriends dorm.

“we’re sorry, we tried to convince him not too but he wouldn’t listen” theo muttered silently.

it felt like your world was breaking apart slowly. just not too long ago you were excited to spend a weekend with your boyfriend who you loved so dearly, the same boyfriend who you’ve been dating for years, the same boyfriend who gets jealous about how much time you spend with his mum rather than him.

with shaky fingers you put your hand on the door knob and quickly pushed the door open, already preparing for the worst.

there he was, wrapped up with parkinson in the same bed you two shared not even twenty-four hours ago. her body straddling his naked, just like yours was doing the night before. you stood there frozen, mouth agape— not even knowing what to do with yourself.

“baby, i can explain, just please— y/n please don’t leave” draco said pushing pansy off of him, shuffling on his pants and reaching out towards you.

“dont touch me, malfoy!” you yelled and everyone froze. “you lost the right to touch me the minute you even thought of touching her” you continued sending both him and pansy a glare with tears threatening to slip from your eyes.

“darling please, i can explain—”

“no draco, we’re done just leave me alone, please” your voice cracking at the end as you pushed past blaise and theo rushing towards the girls dormitory.

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

it’s been days since you last left your room, days since you last saw draco. daphne would come by and check on you but you’d always dismiss her, wanting to be alone. regret is one word to describe how you’ve been feeling— you gave him everything and he threw it away so carelessly for a quick hook up.

you missed waking up against his smooth skin in his embrace, tracing the lines and scars across his porcelain skin as you waited for him to wake up, the way he’d try to kiss you in the morning without brushing his teeth and you wouldn’t let him because of morning breath— but he’d still do it anyways.

you missed him, but he didn’t want you anymore.

maybe it was something you’ve done, you’ve been quite busy with work recently so you haven’t been spending as much time with him as normal. he was probably lonely and trying to seek the attention you lacked to give him.

getting up, you stared at yourself in the mirror picking yourself apart. you were pretty, it was a well known fact around hogwarts, maybe he thought she was prettier. she was the life of the party and always up for some mischief whereas you preferred to do stuff in silence and would rather be with a small group of people. maybe he liked how exciting she was in comparison to you, she probably brought a spark of excitement to his life that you couldn’t.

dreading to feel something you quickly showered and got ready to leave your room hoping to run into a specific set of twins.

Pick up daddies at the playground

How I spend my daytime

Loosen up the frown,

Make them feel alive

I'll make it fast and greasy

I'm on my way to easy

“well what can we do for you today” fred said to you with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

“do you have any muggle herb left?” you asked in a low voice making sure no one heard you.

“maybe we do, maybe we don’t” george said. “how much are you offering in exchange though” he continued.

“ten galleons for three ounces, is that enough” you said pulling the galleons out of your pockets and placing them in george’s palm.

“it was a pleasure doing business with you” they said in unison as fred placed the tiny baggie in your pocket so no one would see.

once you returned to your dormitory you quickly pulled out the pre-rolled muggle herb, lit it and let yourself forget.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

you started showing up to class late with red tired eyes, not caring about the looks you got. at this point every one knew what had happened but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

the muggle herb brought you a sense of bliss and freedom, a new feeling you haven’t felt before but something that you now craved.

“are you high right now?” draco said as he sat himself in the seat beside you.

“since when do you care about what i’m doing” you said sharply, not wanting to talk with him.

“love, you don’t smoke. who gave that stuff to you, i’ll kill them—”

“no you won’t.” you said turning towards him. “you won’t do any of that because you don’t own me and i’m not your girlfriend anymore. so mind your business malfoy, i’m sure parkinson’s waiting for you”

the rest of the class you both sat in silence working on potions that draco did most of since you weren’t in the correct mind state and he wasn’t willing to let his mark falter over your slip up.

you find it amazing how even when you’re on drugs he still looks amazing. the way his nose curves perfectly with a slight bump, and the way his hands move with caution as he pours the potion into the waste bucket.

“look, i’m sorry for what happened with pansy. it didn’t mean anything i swear, i don’t know why i did it but i regret it with my life” draco said breaking your thoughts, he looked older than normal and had dark circles underneath his under eyes. you wondered why he looked so distraught when he wasn’t the one who got cheated on.

“a sorry isn’t going to fix this draco” you told him. he knew you were right but he didn’t want to admit it. he hadn’t talked to pansy since the day you walked in on them, the guilt has been eating him up inside. he stayed silent and didn’t bother respond to you, he knew anything he said would have made the situation worst than it already is— but how he wished you were still his sweet y/n.

“now if you excuse me, i have some fun to attend too” you said leaving him alone as you made your way back to your dorm.

Staying in my play pretend

Where the fun, it got no end

Can't go home alone again

Need someone to numb the pain

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

over the last few weeks, you couldn’t remember the last time you were sober. you started skipping classes to smoke and avoiding your friends so they’d stop questioning your habits.

you were forgetting and that’s all that mattered, you didn’t care how it was affecting your health— it made you feel better. sometimes you wished there was another way, another way to forget how he held you at night pressing soft kisses to your skin, another way to forget the way he took pansy the same way he took you. you wonder if he feels as sorry as he looks, he’s the one who cheated so he can’t possibly care that much.

you hear two knocks at your door which quickly break you from your state making you more attentive, cleaning yourself up and opening the door. there stood draco— his eyes red as well, like hes been crying.

“y/n listen, i know what i did was wrong and that i tried to pretend it wasn’t me but please. i didn’t mean too, you mean the world to me. i miss you so much love.” he pleaded with you.

“y’know draco, i miss you too” you admitted. “but i’ve found a way to forget about you, maybe you should do the same”.

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

-

taglist: @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @ilygw @nic0lodean @s1ater @henqtic @justreadingficsdontmindme @i-love-scott-mccall @harmqnia @gwlvr @alishahpotter

[xreaderbooks]

Two sides (2)

Pair: ACOTAR Azriel x reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Summary: Y/N has been in love with Cassian for centuries now, Just how Azriel has been with Mor. Both heartbroken by their unrequited love they fall into a routine of 'one-night stands', Not realizing their each others mate.

Masterlist - Part 1

A/N: So I dont know how accurate the mate information is, like I said before I haven’t read the ACOTAR series since 2019 so I probably got a couple things wrong or didn’t write the characters the way you would expect them to act. I chose to make them more how they would be in head canons if you get what I mean. Either way I really hope you enjoyed the 2nd and final part to Two sides :) Feel free to send requests for Azriel or any other Acotar characters. Thank you all for the support <3

"We need to talk."

"Okay," Azriel says skeptically, he walks over to sit on the chair across from you.

"I wanted to apologize for the other night," You shifted in your seat as you spoke, you were noticeably uncomfortable. That bothered Azriel, he wanted you to feel natural not forced, he didn't know where that desire came from but it was true. Even if this conversation was a bit awkward. "I never meant to make you feel used, I guess, I just needed a distraction."

"From seeing Cassian and Nesta together?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded. "Y/N, I didn't feel used." He let out a small chuckle. "I enjoyed it, actually. And a bit flattered that you chose to-" He coughed awkwardly, "share that part of yourself with me." You grinned. You eased up a bit after knowing that Azriel didn't feel bad about what happened the other night, and even enjoyed it. It also warmed your heart at the fact that this was one of the rare moments that he felt comfortable enough to talk about how he was feeling. Despite it probably being out of sympathy or to defuse the tension.

"Oh," You chirped "well good. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck up our friendship."

He shook his head, "Y/N you've done a lot in the past few centuries that could've fucked up this friendship and we're still okay, better than okay considering. Besides Mor and I are still friends even after..." He tensed up, you went over to him and hesitantly put your hand on top of his.

"I know." You gave him a small smile. "I have an idea, I'll admit it's not my brightest but it will benefit the both of us."

His eyebrow quirked, "Your ideas are never the brightest, that's why you're just my second."

"Okay, wow." You blinked, removing your hand, and started pacing around the room. "First Rhys made me your second because I'm good at my job and you're just better cause of your shadows." He glared at you when you made the comment about his shadows. "Two, I've had a couple of good ideas in the past you just never go through with them."

"Maybe it's because all your ideas are reckless and we'd get caught if we did our job by using your so-called good ideas." He got up to meet you when you turned around to face the other way, you were met by his chest in your way.

You huffed when you looked up at him. "Whatever, I'm pretty sure you were going to like this one." He gave a nod to continue. "I- you know what I think it's better if I just show you."

He cocked his head to the side. You took this as an opportunity to grab him by the back of his neck and slammed your lips onto his. Immediately after he put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. He started walking backward, leading you towards one of the bedrooms. Your foreheads pressed together but you paused from kissing him, catching your breath. You knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating quicker by the second, his heart was beating faster too. It gave you all the encouragement you needed to start taking off your clothes.

"So this was your bright idea," Azriel asked, while also hurriedly taking off his clothes.

"Mhm." Was your response before nodding and relocating your lips onto his.

The intensity of it made your heart stutter. You wanted him and at that moment he wanted you. He truly wanted you, you both felt it and took that feeling, using it to fuel the passion in that kiss. He moved down to your neck, nipping and biting at it. You moved your hand to slowly graze his wings, which made him freeze. Azriel gave you a look that made your body go on overdrive.

He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to "eat your neck" as Cassian had said all those days before. You rolled your eyes at the thought, but then they rolled back as Azriel bit at a sensitive area that intensified that already intoxicating feeling you got when you were with him.

And you wished it never ended.

~~~

"How do you feel about this?" You asked, hoping he'd be okay with it. So far he hadn't opposed.

"I don't want to hurt you." He confessed. You knew he meant physically, he could be a little rough sometimes. You were okay with that though, You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"I'm serious Y/N." He looked you in the eye. You were back at the training grounds of the Illyrian camp. You didn't specify any details, so you both didn't care about speaking in public.

"I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it." You began to walk ahead of him, He grabbed your forearm and pulled you back to face him, a hint of a smile on your face. "Only if you're sure."

Your smile faded once you saw that he was genuinely concerned. "Az, you wouldn't hurt me. I trust you."

He froze and let you go. He had a hard time letting people see how he was feeling but you could tell he was struggling with letting you in and his self-deprecation.

~~~

You had kept your secret "relationship" hidden from everyone else, as much as you could. It didn't take long. They were extremely nosy and it was difficult with Mor being your best friend. She always knew when you were lying and had insisted you were acting differently. You would always blow it off and say you had a good day, telling a random story you just thought of on the spot.

Cassian had continued to tease you about your secret lover-- which only intrigued Mor even further-- you avoided the truth most of the time. You and Azriel would be extra careful when doing what you did. Sometimes even going to Inns and you would both winnow to the location.

Going through all that trouble only for Amren to find out and threaten to tell the others. She tried to blackmail you into buying her a pure diamond bracelet. As if she couldn't afford it yourself. You talked to Azriel about it and you both decided you didn't care if anyone else knew, it's only a matter of time before they found out anyway. Plus you could use the money to buy a house somewhere private in Velaris. You enjoyed the privacy and lack of teasing for as long as it lasted.

Amren didn't tell but as you predicted, everyone did find out. Some already had suspicions like Mor, Rhys, and Feyre. Amren wouldn't have known if she hadn't caught you both and Cassian never would have thought. You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed at him not showing any sign of jealousy. You knew he wouldn't be, being caught up with Nesta and all but you still held hope. You considered yourself a fool and would try to fuck the feelings out of you with Azriel. And most of the time it worked.

~~~

Months went by as sleeping with your best friend became your new normal. You never would have thought that you'd be one of those mysterious girls that Azriel hooked up with, ever since that night, you were the only girl. You had to admit, you liked the idea; being Azriel's only girl. But you knew that although you would be the only girl in his bed, Mor will always be on his mind. Not that you blamed him, you were still somewhat hung up on Cassian. After you can't get rid of 500+ years of feelings.

As you laid next to Azriel, who now stayed nights instead of leaving right after, You admired his tattoos, the intricate designs, you fought the urge to trace them. You did anyways but only a centimeter away from his chest so you wouldn't wake him. In the morning light that slipped through a slight gap in your curtains, It shone right on him. He looked ethereal.

You always knew he was attractive most Illyrian men were, at least if they weren't assholes most of the time. You had time now, to actually take in his beauty. You could never understand how someone so beautiful and kind could be so broken. You guessed that's why you chose him to spend your nights with, instead of some random guy. You could help him and heal him and get him to appreciate himself more.

The shadows around him became more active, it made him tense up. He was awake. You lifted your hand up to up to move the stray hair that fell onto his face. At that moment, you felt your world shift an overwhelming sensation of love and adoration consumed your body and you snatched your hand away from him. You were in pure shock.

'Holy fuck' Was the only thing going through your head.

"What's wrong?"He questioned as if he could sense your distress. His voice hoarse from just waking up.

"Nothing." You said, immediately getting up and getting dressed in whatever you had closest to you. "You should, um, You should get going. I have a lot of reports to do, I've been holding them off but Rhys has been asking me for them for the longest so I should get on it."

Azriel sat up, the bed sheet covering one leg and another part. His perfectly sculpted body in your bed, the lighting, half of his leg uncovered by the blanket. You tried to compose yourself to figure out what you would do. Hoping that he didn't pick up on how different you were acting. It was no use he probably already expected something was up.

To try to ease the tension you sat next to him, brushing the hair out of his face, dragging your fingertips down to the side of his face, and kissed his cheek. You ignored the tingles you felt as his face nuzzled into your hand. Hesitantly, you remove your hand and got up from the bed, and sat at the desk you had in your room. You pretended to read through old letters from officials.

Azriel took that as his cue to leave. He got dressed and pressed a kiss to the back of your head before he left.

He definitely knew something, that's not how your mornings usually go. You would at least spend an hour or two together either talking or enjoying each other's presence before sending each other off to your respective duties. However due to your new discovery of Azriel being your mate. You panicked. What would you do now?

~~~

Hours had passed and you hadn't left your room, choosing to focus on the reports that you did in fact, have to do. Rhys just wasn't expecting them for another week or so. Mor then busted into your room. "Knock, knock bitch."

"Uh, hello gorgeous, didn't expect a lovely visit from you today." You said sarcastically, turning your chair to face her. She dropped the shopping bags onto your floor. You lifted a brow in question.

"We're going on a trip!"

"I'm busy." You turned back around to focus on what you were writing.

"It's a fun work one." You twisted your chair around again.

"How do you mean?"

"Day court gala, bonding with people, gaining trust, and all that." She waved it off as if you didn't need to know actual information. You decided you'd ask for details from Rhysand later.

"And you went shopping." You gestured to all of the bags. "like you don't have tons of outfits you could take."

"Well of course I do. These are for you." She grinned.

"W-what?"

"Just because you're supposed to be invisible and all that, doesn't mean you have to be like that all the time." She referred to your job description, being another spy for Rhysand, relying on you being a woman to get information from people Azriel couldn't. Kind of ridiculous considering Azriel's shadows allowed him to get all the information needed but it was an easy enough job. Unlike Az, you didn't have shadows to command so you stuck to your black outfits tunics, and suits that would help you move easily. You never really dressed up, unless it was for an occasion, but you enjoyed doing it when you could. Most of the time you would be on duty or something like it so you couldn't.

This Gala gave you the perfect excuse too. You were thankful to Mor for having bought you these dresses and accessories. You were pretty sure you had worn all the dresses you had in your closet already.

"Yeah, you're right." You gave her a half-smile. Part of you wondered what Azriel's reaction would be to you in one of these revealing dresses. You shook the thought from your head. You would dress for yourself not for some male, even if that male is your mate.

You debated whether to tell Mor or not. She might be able to help you with your internal battle. Part of you was hurt about Cassian not being your mate. Another part always knew that he wasn't, and another part of you wondered how Azriel would react. Did he feel the bond snap into place? Or was it a Feyre-Rhysand situation where the bond would snap into place at another moment? Would he reject you cause you weren't Mor?

You opted to tell Mor at the day court where you would have more space and privacy from the others.

~~~

Helion's words about uniting and bonding were very heartwarming and kind, but you couldn't get past the thoughts that swarmed your mind. You took advantage of this time with everyone listening to Helions welcoming speech and sneakily made your way over to where Mor was standing. You pretended to greet her with a kiss and whispered in her ear to meet you in the room you were staying at.

"Thank the cauldron you came along, Helion was droning on and was about to make me fall asleep." She joked as she sauntered into your room. She paused her amused tone as soon as she saw your face. "You were fine like two minutes ago."

"Glad to know, I'm good at hiding it." You forced a smile. She tilted her head as if to ask you 'what's wrong', so you told her. You told her that Azriel was your mate and how it happened. You told her of your fears of rejection and confusion with your love for Cassian. It was a different love now, you felt it. There was a shift in what you felt towards Cassian and more intense feelings for Azriel. You suspected the bond but you didn't mind it. You then opened up about your insecurity about him rejecting you for her. Which she shut down, though she knew what you meant.

"Mor, Azriel loves you, like I loved Cassian. What if his love for you is stronger and he refuses to let go. We all know the only reason he never went for you is his trouble with his self-worth." Those were harsh words, but they were true. "He could easily reject me for you, knowing you don't love him in that way."

"You don't know that Y/N. And you loved Cassian, probably as much as Azriel loved me. After all this time you spent together, you truly don't think he would have changed the way he feels for me?" She grabbed your hand in hers. "You and Azriel are like two sides of the same coin, he's all dark and brooding and you, well you're the same in some ways. But you bring out the light and you can cast out all of his darkness with a simple smile."

"I don't know." You whispered. You were scared. Your feelings for Azriel already began to grow, without the bond, with it in place now it was strengthened. Your feelings for Cassian was a background noise that would soon grow into a more familial type of love.

"What should I do Mor?" You whimpered, you put your face in your hands. "I feel like a girl with a crush. This is ridiculous."

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, yes it is. On the bright side, if he doesn't know about you being mates, you could still have fun with other people."

You gave her a look. "You forget that he's my designated person to 'have fun' with."

"I didn't know you had a conversation on exclusivity." She shrugged and walked over to the cart that had alcoholic drinks, at the corner of the room.

"Technically we did when we agreed to sleep with each other when we felt like it." You reasoned.

"Hm." She mused, sipping on her drink. "I still say enjoy tonight, dance with a few males, or females, and if you two end up having sex with him again just enjoy the time you have with him."

"Thanks for the talk, Mor."

"Of course darling, by the way, I highly doubt he'll reject you. If he does he's an idiot and I'll kill him." She sent a wink your way and left you in your room to think.

~~~

Azriel watched as you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. A man who he didn't know came up from behind you, keeping up with you. That was the first of many. He felt a twinge of jealousy in his gut. He attempted to force that emotion down. He couldn't understand where that was coming from.

He was keeping watch, even though he always made sure to keep a lookout for danger to his court. Mor and Cassian tried to get him to ease up, he didn't budge. Who would pry Cassian from more liquor when he's had enough to drink if Azriel wasn't sober? He used the excuse of being the only responsible one to keep an eye on her. Y/n, Azriel thought he knew what it was to love someone because of Mor but what Azriel felt for Y/N was different. It felt raw and real and whatever it was, was growing fast. She was easy to talk to, not that he did much of that but she listened, actually listened when he did, and she didn't pry or hover as much as the others. They tend to beat around the bush when wanting to know about what was going on with him. Unlike Y/N who would take her time to make sure he felt comfortable and if, he wasn't, she would change the topic and act normal.

Y/N was a calming presence that allowed him to just be. She brought out another side of him that he thought he could never be.

That's why when he felt a change in the way he saw her dancing with a new guy than the one she was with earlier, it all made sense. She was his mate. He saw red as he practically flew to where they were. The fae males' hands that were roaming your bonds were ripped away from you and he dragged him away. Azriel pinned the man against the wall. People began to stare and talk in hushed whispers, appalled at the sight.

"Never touch my mate, again." He growled. He dug his fingers into the guy's neck.

"I-I didn't know." The man choked out.

"Well, now you do." He muttered, letting the man slump to the ground. He went over to where you were standing, eyes wide. His eyes softened while looking at you. He slowed as he got to you. "Can we talk?"

You nodded your head and began to walk toward an empty hall.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." He kept his voice low but soft. He was afraid, you would want to run away.

"You didn't." You stood there staring at him. You tried to figure him out, to no avail. His face was always stoic. "I- I thought you'd reject me and now I don't know what to do." You confessed.

"You knew?" He tried to recall if you had acted any differently. His shadows had felt the change in your demeanor and set out in whispers when you were rushing him out. He brushed it off, he should've looked more into it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel unwanted or rejected.

"Since yesterday morning." You confirmed. Your anxiety consumed you, you heard of the pain that came along with being rejected by your mate. Some have died from it. Little did you know Azriel was worrying about the same exact thing. Not thinking himself worthy enough of your affection. He allowed himself the pleasure of being in bed with you, assuming it was nothing more and he couldn't get hurt you or be hurt that way. It was a release from another pain you both had the displeasure of feeling.

"I want you to know it is an honor to have you as my mate." He took a step closer.

"Really? Honestly, I thought..." You shook your head. "Nevermind."

He looked confused but let it go, if you wanted to tell him you would. "Guess this means I have to go cook you something." You let out a laugh. He smiled an actual wide beautiful smile. Azriel grabbed your face and kissed you.

It was soon interrupted by a very drunk Mor who shouted, "Finally!"

Cassian was right behind her, "Mor! I forgot where the bathroom was, can y-" He paused looking between you and Azriel. "Oooh getting freaky in the hall, that's new. Hey Y/N if he isn't hitting it right, you know where to find me." He winked at you. Azriel gave him a murderous look, putting his arm in front of you. 'So he's gonna be one of those', you thought.

You couldn't wait till the second part of the mating process.

Tags: @wildchild2707​ ,@theworthlessqueen​ ,@ciciakai​ ,@rockinginneverland​

[bubblyhoney]

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

-

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

[wh6res]

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

[princesssmars]

being the the allen triplet

platonic!geoff allen x fem!reader | platonic!viv allen x fem!reader

a/n: love how i had this show on my netflix list for almost two years then i started it and found out it's been canceled yasss. but I can sense that fics for it have been lacking so who better to write some. spoilers for october faction! also havent watcged the show in a few months so if some facts seem wonky im sorry 🧍🏽‍♀️

ever since you were a toddler, you always felt...different

it's not like anyone else in your grade jet-setted off to a new country or city every year

but it wasn't just that. it was almost like you saw the world differently than other kids

it was almost like the world was magical, and not just like in your favorite bed time stories and artoons

like your siblings you ecel in your chosen craft. viv is an artist, geoff is social, and you have a fondness for music.

but also your intrest in weaponry, starting when you founr one of your mothers handguns when you were 10 years old

luckily they had trained you some gun safety and common sense, so instead of nearly blowing your brains out you just admired it, eventually asking for them to start giving you lessons.

you had a pretty good relationship with your siblings

obviously sometimes youd get on each others last nerves but that comes with being a sibling

but at the end of the day you were there for each other no matter what

there were multiple instances where someone would pick on the twins and youd get in trouble for saying something nasty in retaliation 😁

as kids youd have the time of your lives goofing off and sneaking candy and snacks behind your grandmothers back when she had to babysit

and then when the stress of moving was wearing you down, geoff and viv would cheer you (and honestly themselves) up by exploring and checking out the local attractions

as you get older that "magical" feeling you got as a kid got stronger and more intense until your parents started upping your meds. odd.

eventually your parents move you again, except this time to your dads shitty little hometown upstate. great.

they give you and viv the same old lecture about being more social making more friends bla bla bla. you mock them from the back seat causing viv and geoff to laigh and nearly getting you in trouble.

fighting with who gets the better room. its not you 😐

that wake. yikes.

you mostly stayed on the sidelines, avoiding the annoying kids viv and geoff were entertaining for whatever reason.

eventually one came down for a drink and pissed you off. your vision went hazy for a second and you somehow spit of the knowledge that her fathers infidelity was leading up to her parents divorce. whoops.

so now you and your twins are the "freaks". typical.

not everything is horrible though, your grandmother is staying and is actually pretty cool

but when it comes to the first day of school? literal hell

the stereotypical jock and mean girls that bully geoff and viv reapectfully also try to come for you but you shut that shit down real quick.

which of course leads to isolation most of the day. fun. but seeing geoff spit out that tidbit of the teachers cheating wife was hilarious

you dont know how the hell he knew that but

then the scene on the bus

it was only for a second, maybe even a tenth of that but you felt something. you saw something.

and looking to your right, seeing your siblings looking back at you, you know they saw it too.

god, this place just kept getting weirder by the day.

ta da. i noticed how there was like no fanfiction for this show after i finished it and so i had to step up i guess. im most likely gonna rewatch the show and continue this bc i love the little harlow family. thanks for reading <3

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (2)

pairing: taehyung x f reader

genre: horror au, yandere au, saw/john kramer au

synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughs, abusive relationships, stalking etc. dont read if triggered. there are some ?? fucked up things in this but idk what to word them. but also mentions of self harm/self hating thoughts.

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: unedited so pls forgive me for any mistakes and lmk if u want to be added to a taglist^^

series masterlist

part one part three

You’d spent a couple of hours in the café with Taehyung. Jimin popped over every now and then to talk with his best friend and to make sure you had everything you needed while there.

When you left, Jimin wrapped his arms around you as he bid his farewell, “It was lovely to meet you Y/N! Please, don’t be a stranger!” You simply nodded your head as you pulled away from the hug. You grinned back at him as he moved to Taehyung. You opened the door, carefully stepping outside to leave the boys with some privacy.

Once the door shut Jimin’s smile beamed, “so she’s the girl you’re always talking about, Flower? Right?”

“Yeah she is, thanks for that though man but, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Taehyung smiled as he made his way towards you, you looked up and he swore, he saw a hint of nervousness in your eyes, probably because it’s dark, he thought to himself. “Come on then, let’s get you home.” He held out his hand, you were quick to grab a hold of it. Taehyung intertwined your fingers as he tugged you back across the road, “it’ll take about twenty minutes, you gonna be alright to walk?” he glanced down to you.

Your heart warmed at the way his eyes smiled with him, “I’ll be fine, thank you.” He seemed happy enough with your answer as you fell into a steady rhythm. You felt a little conflicted, you may not know Taehyung well but he had an energy about him that made you wanna spill every secret you knew, you’d shared pointless stories while you were at the café, having learnt Taehyung was a family oriented person, he loved art and he was passionate about little subjects other people would deem small. Yet he had a warmth that you’d not seen in anyone else.

Fuck it, you thought, he’s shown nothing but kindness, you may aswell open upto him… atleast.

“I was in an abusive relationship.” Taehyung felt himself smirk but quickly wiped it from his face, he arched an eyebrow as he looked down to you, “it was my first too. It left me, fucked up, in a way. Not that I wasn’t already fucked up.” Progress. He squeezed your hand in reassurance, go on… “I’ve always been insecure and uh, uncomfortable with the way I look. After that disaster of a relationship, it left me worse for wear.” you kept your eyes on the road, you didn’t want to see the judgement on his face yet it didn’t stop you from carrying on, “I never told my friends or family about it. None of them knew I was struggling before it anyway so I’ve been letting it tear me apart.”

“Why tell me then doll?”

You risked a glance at his face. There were no traces of judgement or pity. Swallowing down your nerves, you added softly, “I had to tell someone. Even if that someone is a random person— who showed me kindness when I needed it.”

Taehyung felt his heart clench, she’s already trusting me… this was easier than I thought. “Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything baby,” I already know it all.

You felt your cheeks burn from the pet name, how could something so simple, affect you this much? God, talk about a schoolgirl crush. “That’s the thing, I don’t feel like I need to. I just, I want to.”

Taehyung presented you with his boxy grin, “Then you can tell me anything you want, whether it's big or small.”

“Thank you Taehyung.” It was like the sun had shone down on you, the simplest gesture meant the world. Here you had a person willing to talk to you about your darkest secrets. A person willing to listen. Someone who had no ties to your family, which made it easier for the words to flow from you, “It’s like, I was this happy, care-free kid. I smiled without forcing it and when I laughed… I felt free. I didn’t feel like I was losing my breath. Not like I do now, everytime I do so much as breathe, it's like these roots have twisted around my lungs and everytime a breath escapes, they crush them tighter. It’s like a reminder. You’re never fully alive. You’re never fully happy. Pain overrides any other emotion. I’ve learned that, after all those years. I used to think, I’d never accept it.” A solemn silence fell over you. The roots squeezed your lungs even tighter as you whispered, “I’m scared of living.”

“Flower, some people are anchored to this world by their feet, others by their fears. You don’t have to voice it, I know you’re scared. You have your fears. Your demons. The thing you were doing at the cafe; is destructive. Anything that harms you, is destructive. Fuck, it may only be something as simple as picking your skin but that can lead into bigger things.”

It already has.

“Taehyung, I know that. I knew when it started but it helps, it lessens my anxiety. You’re the only one to have picked up on it. My friends… they don’t notice. If they do, they don’t mention it.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?”

Your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to admit it but, there was some truth to his words.

You walked home in silence.

That night haunted you. It forced its way into your dreams. It clouded your thoughts when Yoongi and Hoseok were with you. When you’d spent time together, you were vacant. A soulless body. It was like a poison had found its way into your brain, second guessing relationships and people’s motives.

‘You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?’

Why were you letting it get in your head so much? You knew your friends. They were the only ones you felt safe with. They were your friends for a reason, they supported you (albeit sometimes they had a sense of… tough love) but they always had your back.

You didn’t mention Taehyung to Yoongi or Hoseok. You felt as though that was something that should be kept between you and him. Plus, the duo would’ve felt betrayed and upset by the fact you had wandered into foreign territory alone and found company in a complete stranger-- especially after they’d warned you about the whole Jigsaw shit.

To save the arguments, you went about your life as usual. You helped out your Mum with the flower shop, the array of flowers made you realise how the simplest things were beautiful. That of course, didn’t include yourself. Rancid thoughts clouded what was once, a tranquil space. Those god forsaken roots hadn’t lessened. Breathing was still difficult— as was pretending that you were absolutely fine.

You avoided mirrors, a quick glance could wreck your entire mood. You hated people taking photos of you, it made you scrutinise every single thing.

My nose is too big.

My chin is too round.

My face just shouts ugly.

My legs are disgusting.

My stomach is embarrassing.

My boobs are weird.

Not to say, you didn’t have these thoughts on the regular. However, the more you eluded your appearance, the voices lessened. You could ignore the way you looked, forget it completely. Often convinced yourself you were a plain person. The stereotypical norm: someone that no one would look twice at. It helped you get on with everyday tasks, it helped you ease the anxiety.

After all, every flower must grow through dirt.

But how would you react? If you knew, he had all the pictures of you?

Tuesdays you worked at your Dad’s garage. You didn’t know much about cars but you enjoyed his company. As well as spending time with Hobi and Yoongi. You often found yourself pranking the former with Yoongi, little jokes that luckily, didn’t piss Hobi off too much.

Today though, you were late. You’d had to spend more time trying to find the more appropriate clothing… you didn’t want people to see the slashed lines of red that littered your body.

After you messily threw an outfit together, you made your way down to the garage. You found your eyes trained on the silver Nissan Skyline, mouth agape as you collided into something.

You felt hands grab your shoulders, “Watch where you’re going,” Yoongi brought his hands to ruffle your hair, “gotta be careful while we’ve got that here kidda. That fuckers expensive.” He released a chuckle as you rolled your eyes, softly elbowing him out the way.

Your dad was under the bonnet, a box of tools were scattered around his feet. Organised mess, your Dad was infamous for it.

“Sorry I’m late Pops, what do you want me to do?”

Not even a second later, your Dad turned to face you, “Ah darling, not a lot while we’re working on this. Can you go make us some drinks?”

“Yeah course, I won’t be too long!”

You passed Hoseok on your way to the little kitchen situated at the back, he sent you a wink as he shouted across, “Coffee for me kidda!”

Three cups were spread in front of you. Americano for Yoongi, Coffee for Hobi and Cappuchino for Pops. Just as you were about to shout the guys, a presence had situated itself comfortably behind you. Before you had time to turn around, a deep baritone voice addressed you, “You not gonna ask me if I want a cup baby?”

You felt yourself still. You knew that voice. The voice that was haunting your dreams, even your wake.

You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?

Taehyung watched the way your body tensed, your shoulders stiffened, your breathing altered. Hm, she’s nervous. How cute.

“What are you doing here?” the words passed your lips, delivered as though they were encased in thorns.

A deep chuckle filled the room, “What do you think I’m doing here?” Taehyung inched closer, the atmosphere was almost palpable. You felt the way his chest brushed against your back, a sudden chill shot through you as he brought his hand up— which grazed against your skin whilst he moved your hair from your neck. His eyes turned hungry at the sight of your goosebumps. Your heart raced when he brought his head lower, lips next to your ear, “You think I’m here for you baby?” I am… but you don’t need to know that just yet.

You spun around, squashed between the table and Taehyung. Heat radiated off of him, how can he be so hot? It felt like you were in a furnace (while face to face with the Devil.)

Fear stricken, you tried to fight through it. Don’t show him. Don’t let him see. With a sarcastic smile plastered on your face you retorted, “Of course you are Taehyung. You tracked me down using the information I gave you and figured out which Garage is ours.”

The sarcasm was practically dripping from your tone like venom. Taehyung felt himself stifle a laugh.

You just didn’t know. In all fairness, you didn’t know anything. How would you know that Taehyung had done exactly that, except he’d done it months prior.

He lowered his head to yours, your hands raised to push him away but Taehyung wrapped his fingers around each wrist and tugged them to lay between you before you even had the chance to nudge him. You felt like you were stuck in a Venus fly trap.

“I’m not some type of sicko, doll.”

You were just a naive, misunderstood, little girl.

“I’m getting my car fixed. Your dad’s working on it right now.”

Your body visibly relaxed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh, the Skyline? Wait, you have a car and made us walk back to mine the other week?”

“I didn’t make you walk for the fun of it baby, my car is literally in the shop so obviously it was broken.”

Only, the car was perfectly fine when you met him those weeks ago. He had made the pair of you walk so he’d have more of a chance to speak to you and to touch you. The only way he could follow you around without being suspicious, especially at your dads work, was to have a somewhat reasonable excuse (which resulted in him messing with the engine). He knew although you’d shied away from him that night, he could easily win you back around.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Taehyung. I’m also uh, sorry about how that night ended.”

“Don’t sweat it, I know what I said came off a little... weird but I didn’t mean any harm.”

With an angelic smile on your face in return, Taehyung knew that soon, that smile would morph into a grateful one. After all, he was going to help you.

Until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Live or Die.

Your choice.

He had first seen you out and about last year. However, he had first heard of you when the guys working for him had slammed a file onto his desk, Subject #13 was scrawled on the top. Filled to the brim with pictures of you and everything about your life down to the littlest detail.

L/N Y/N— D.O.B 03.11.02— 19 years old.

Phone number: XXXXX.XXXXX

Female. Lives with parents at: 171 Norm Street, Falfield F91 7DW. Was outcasted at school but befriended a Jeon Jeongguk [19 years, male. 92 Carriers Road, Cressage CY5 3EA. XXXXX.XXXXX].

Ex partner is Kang Jaehyo. [23 years. Male. Abusive and manipulative, laid his hands on Y/N multiple times leaving bruises and scars. Sexual abuse was also discovered. Have been broken up for 4 months. 13 Walkers Drive, Falfield, F73 1DL XXXXX.XXXXX]

Y/N has suicidal ideations (as well as 7 attempts). Self harms by “cutting” “punching” and “scratching”. Diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety Disorder on May 13th 2016. Works at Toret Garage and Letty’s Floral. Both places owned by parents.

The web of lies and deceit had barely scraped the surface.