#then all I end up doing is laying in bed doing mindless activities like watching YouTube

[ajackofthecraftsandamasterofnone]

So I made 2 candles and a test scoopable. Didn't do nearly as much as I had planned/hoped :(

[bingoboingobongo]

this is specific so feel free to not do this but maybe some hcs of the 141 + Alejandro with a s/o who has vitiligo? I love your writing sm but dont feel pressured to do this one <3

task force 141 + s/o with vitiligo

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: tbh if it weren't for this ask i would have probably never realized i was pronouncing vitiligo wrong so thanks tumblr user spookirain

simon "ghost" riley:

okay so honestly i doubt that ghost would be fazed or even really care about the fact that you have vitiligo

i mean it might have caught his eye the first time he saw you but it wasn't in a bad way or anything

he just thought it was interesting and made you stand out

so tbh you having vitiligo really doesn't affect your relationship at all really

i mean skin color really plays no part in ghost's preferences, because he's really just never been a looks kinda guy

he really doesn't make any comments on it unless you do

and so, in the best way possible bc ik this sounds kinda bad, he doesn't really hype you up or spend a lot of time complimenting you about it out of the blue

i mean again it's really like not a big deal to him so he just doesn't see the point

it's like complimenting someone on their height or their skin color

it's not like they had a choice or can change it so he doesn't feel the need to compliment them about it

that being said if you are feeling insecure about it he'll reassure you and make sure you understand that he loves you no matter what you look like

also if you wear makeup he'll definitely help you apply it, especially if it's in a tricky spot

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so no offense to soap but he doesn't exactly have the same tact or class as ghost

when he saw you, the first thing he notices was your skin and that it looked really cool and interesting

immediately went over to you to let you know too

he thinks it's super interesting that you have vitiligo and it's one of his favorite parts about you

he likes to admire your skin/body and try and find cool shapes or patterns in your skin

he'd also definitely try to draw a face on your patches if he finds one that has a good head shape so watch out

if you're insecure about it i can totally see him being quick to reassure you with a harmless joke or something like that

especially if you joke about it a lot yourself and he knows your boundaries about it

soap is also kinda impatient so if you're out in public and someone's repeatedly questioning/harassing you about it he's very quick to tell them off

sorry but he has better things to do than sit around while some stranger interrogates his s/o

kyle "gaz" garrick:

okay so like soap kyle is definitely more vocal about your vitiligo and how much he likes it

it was probably one of the first things he noticed about you, and that plus your personality had him falling pretty fast

one of his favorite things to do is to trace along your patches with his fingers

whether it's when he's holding your hands at a restaurant or when you're laying on his chest at home in bed

it's one of those mindless activities he can do when he's bored or restless in order to get him to relax

if you're insecure about it he's always quick to give you a tight hug or squeeze your hands and reassure you that it's not a bad thing

that being said he gets that sometimes it can be hard looking a different way and so if you need to rant to him than he's more than happy to listen

as long as you know that in the end he absolutely adores you and your vitiligo

john price:

okay so like ghost price doesn't really place a lot of emphasis on your vitiligo

don't get him wrong he definitely loves it and thinks it's beautiful

but even if you didn't have it he would still love you the same (although he's glad you do have it because it makes you unique)

that being said he tries not to make a big deal out of it because he doesn't want to seem weird or anything like that

so he'll usually compliment it very subtly and maybe not as often

something like "your skin looks great today, love" or "is that a new patch? it looks good on you"

one of his favorite things to do is try and spot where new patches/macules show up before you do

and he's honestly pretty good at it

let's be real he knows your body really well and so he's good at noticing new things

alejandro vargas:

alright so if anyone's a supporter of your vitiligo it's gonna be alejandro

he just loves the way it makes you look one of a kind

ofc he always tells you that there's no one else like you

and he's definitely a romantic so expect a lot of verbal praise and stuff from him

"i'll never find anyone like you"

"you look like you made for me"

"you're the only person i'll love as much as you"

stuff like that

even though he's already pretty liberal with his compliments, get ready for them to increase a lot more if you ever show that you're insecure about your skin

he definitely has a great way with words and knows exactly how to make you feel better

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

okay so like pretty much everyone else rudy really loves your vitiligo

it was definitely the first thing that caught his eye and made him want to approach you, and once he finally mustered the courage to do so he was very fast to compliment your vitiligo

like alejandro he's very vocal about his love for you and your skin

although he doesn't exactly have the same way with words that alejandro does

but he's still able to get his message across just fine

his message being that you're beautiful, you're perfect, etc.

like gaz (i think) he really likes tracing along your patches when he's falling asleep or just whenever he's bored

he also asks you to tell him whenever a new one pops up so he can trace that one too

his goal is to trace every single one

if you're ever insecure about it he'll be quick to reassure you (probably while tracing your patches because it helps him think straighter)

[welivetodream]

Crippling loneliness in the age of the internet:

"Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?"

~Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart (1999)

Let me set the scene:

In a dark room, the only light is coming from the phone of a girl laying on the bed, as she mindlessly scrolls for hours on end. She is typing fast, she is running multiple apps in the background, she is listening to the latest hits while doing all of this, her earphones never leave her ears; even when she closes her eyes, she is still listening to a podcast. Despite all these activities happening around her. The girl looks bored and apathetic, her eyes are blank, no emotions, no thoughts. And for hours to come she stays in that state, waiting for something to happen, even if it doesn't, she doesn't care.

This could be the opening lines of a sci-fi novel but this is actually how I act when I am alone. This is how my life has become. And while people like to blame this on the internet that has made Gen Z mindless zombies; I think the only reason I haven't died is because of the internet. To normal people it's a curse that makes humanity fall to its lowest. To me it gave a purpose, a want and a direction to live for.

The Internet isn't the evil mastermind to me, it's a necessity that has kept me alive and not succumbing to the fact I have no one to talk with.

Internet to me isn't Instagram, Snapchat, Discord,Twi--X (someone stop Elon Musk from cooking), it's the "quirky" apps like Pinterest, Tumblr and Reddit as well as the depths of content that is YouTube. It's the places where I found "my" people who understood me, who accepted me, who appreciated me. Growing up I had no one to talk with, even my own family wasn't understanding, let alone my friends.

During my school life I had always been surrounded by friends or as I like to put it, people I can talk to and have lunch with during school hours. That's what it was, nothing more than that. My idea of friends was just different from others, I didn't want emotional connection or people to hang out with. I wanted friends who would listen to my ramblings and be able to debate and discuss things with.

I don't want to seem pretentious or snobbish and definitely not above others in any way. But....when I am surrounded by so many frustratingly stupid people, I don't have any other words to describe them than "not good enough for me". They may be wonderful people, who are warm and lively. I do not care about being around such people. I am someone that watches video essays on morality, ethics, philosophy and analysis of movies and TV, in comparison to the people I know I am just more perceptive and thoughtful and that alone makes me seem like a stranger to them (INTPs are weird in short form). My dad told me smart people have it hard to make friends because of this exact nature, I wouldn't call myself incredibly intelligent but I know I am far more capable in thinking than my classmates who watch reality TV shows and Tiktok dances. Sometimes I cannot even comprehend how people can even get satisfaction and happiness from something as simple as that and that's when I understand: it's okay to be different than that and it's okay that they are "normal".

I feel like I am Lain from "Serial Experiments Lain", as if my existence is given meaning by the internet and I was born from it. My lack of social interactions in person can be explained by that, but it's the thought of talking with other people that often scares me. I am used to being silent, so much so that even on the internet, I remain quiet, not interacting with people who might understand me. Being afraid of not being understood has stopped me from even trying to make connections when there's people ready to do that.

I don't even reply to comments on my posts, unless I have to and I don't talk with anyone on the internet itself. I just watch and be happy at other people's interactions and feel a sense of belonging.

For some days I decided to stop doing that, to stop the vow of silence. To let people approach me and approach others myself. I want to be friends and it's the only thing that I have ever considered as something I couldn't achieve.

Loneliness isn't as pretty as the movies and books tell you. It's more of a psychological thriller than a show like Euphoria and Skins where these stylised depictions make my depression and loneliness appear cool. It's cool to be alone, to have my own space and not cross boundaries but it's not cool to let the loneliness that shields me, devour me.

[moonlit-jeno]

red door, yellow door (m.)

pairing: mark lee x fem reader x jung jaehyun

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | demon au | slight dubcon??? the mans a lust demon idk | Very mild horror themes | minor mlm | don’t attempt this game pls !!!

words: 8.1k

a/n: this is a repost from my old bts blog! pls don’t ask abt it bc i no longer actively follow bts :)

One of these days, you’re going to kill your coworkers.

You love them, you really do, but sometimes they can just be so dumb. It was Donghyuck and Renjun who came up with the idea to play this stupid game, one that is probably only played by naive 12 year old girls during slumber parties.

Normally you’d just brush it off, but Renjun had called you a wimp, so naturally you had to do it. Which is how you’ve ended up on your back with your best friend massaging circles into your forehead.

“Red door, yellow door, any other color door,” is being chanted around the room. You fight the urge to move your neck to a more comfortable position on Mark’s lap. Your hand twitches above your head, where your arms are raised. “This is stupid,” You whisper, and Mark laughs, scolding you lightly.

After a while, the mindless chanting lulls you to sleep, and you feel yourself drift off.

“What do you see?”

Two doors appear in front of you, one red and one yellow. They both look kind of old, paint chipping and peeling off.

“Anything else?”

A black door appears next to the yellow one and you find yourself drawn to it, wanting to go in. This one is shinier, considerable newer and more inviting compared to the other two

“Go in.”

You open the door and walk through, a sense of relief flooding through your senses as you give in to the pull. The room that you find yourself in seems never ending, the only thing in it a large bed.

“Do you see anyone?”

A man appears, sitting on the bed. The suit he’s wearing is unfitting for the plain surroundings- in fact, he’s unfitting for the surroundings in general. His teeth are blinding white when he smiles, not a hair out of place on his entire head. He’s attractive, all golden skin and beautiful features. Almost too beautiful. A shiver crawls up your spine, a tinge of discomfort bleeding into your senses. He smiles, dimples popping out, and you push the discomfort to the back of your mind.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out distant to your own ears, echoing around you.

“Call me Jaehyun. Why don’t you come here, little bird? We can get properly acquainted.” The voice sounds haunting, like a distorted video. You wouldn’t believe that he’s speaking if his lips didn’t move in sync. Despite the unnatural voice sounding warning bells in your brain, you find yourself moving forward automatically and settling down on his lap when he pats his thigh for emphasis.

“And what’s your name, little bird?” He trails a hand up and down your thigh and you shiver, leaning back against him. He chuckles when you tell him your name, a pleased smile lighting up his features.

“Well, little bird, seems that we’re going to have some fun together.”

Your name is being echoed all around you, and you wake with a jolt, eyes flying open to see Mark staring at you.

“Are you okay?” The rest of your group is also gathered around you, standing in a half circle.

“Yeah, just fell asleep for a bit. Why?” You push yourself onto your elbows, sitting up so that you can lean against Mark.

Donghyuck plops down on the floor, sitting so that he’s facing you. “You were talking like you were having a conversation with someone. Who was it?”

You shrug, trying not to dull his excitement. “I don’t know, just some guy.”

“Was he wearing a suit?” Renjun asks, standing behind Hyuck. He grimaces when you nod. “Y/n, we literally told you not to talk to anyone in a suit. We told you not to talk to anyone. It’s in the rules.”

You roll your eyes, knowing how serious he gets when it comes to stuff like this. “Relax, it’s fine. He seemed nice, and it’s not like it was anything real.”

Renjun still doesn’t look convinced, but Mark interrupts his paranoia by doing what he’s best- or worst, depending on who you ask- at, cracking jokes.

“Hey, was he eating deviled eggs?” He laughs at his own joke, and everyone else groans. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. His place was probably such a hellhole.” The bad mood dissolves into jokes and loud laughter for the rest of the night.

You leave the party- or gathering as Donghyuck had called it because it sounded more mysterious- when it starts storming. The rain drenches you and pretty much everyone else that’s sitting on the porch, leaving you scrambling for shelter. Luckily, Mark offers you a ride.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Mark hollars out the window of his truck, his words getting lost in the night as he speeds off. His truck hits a pothole and you can imagine him swearing as his head hits the roof. Giggling to yourself, you unlock your apartment and slip inside. It’s close to 2 in the morning, so you decide that if you’re already not going to get that much sleep, why not binge Shameless?

You only get through two episodes before your eyelids feel heavy, and you have to fight to keep them open. On screen, there’s a bar fight that you try to take interest in, but sleep quickly pulls you under.

“Welcome back, little bird.” The voice is all around you, but no matter how much you turn and search, no one’s to be found.

“Turn around, little bird, I am here.” Spinning abruptly, you come face to face with the man from earlier, Jaehyun. He gives you a chilling grin.

“So we meet again,” he starts, and his voice no longer sounds eerie or inauthentic. He sounds like, well, a normal man. “Tell me, what would you do if I were to kiss you?”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips on instinct. “Depends. Are you a good kisser?” You aim for coy, but you miss the mark and land closer to worried.

“You could say that.” He pulls you close with one hand on the back of your head, stopping right before your lips. “May I?”

You nod, and he pulls you in for a gentle, closed mouth kiss.

It’s like that touch ignites a fire in you, because before you know it, your arms are thrown around his neck, dragging him closer to deepen the kiss. You lick along his lower lip and he readily grants you access, a throaty groan leaving him when you suck on his tongue. Liquid heat courses through your veins when he nips at your lower lip, tongue flicking over it in apology. You moan, raw and needy. He likes that, if the chuckle and wicked grin is anything to go by. Picking you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, he walks over to a bed that definitely wasn’t there before.

He drops you on the bed, and then suddenly you’re both naked. Jaehyun leans over you, all lean muscles and golden skin. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his legs, and you have the urge to swallow him down. He groans, as if reading your mind, and then reaches to pump himself slowly, long fingers wrapped around the length. “Not now, little bird, not now. I have something else in mind.” With one gentle push to your shoulders, you’re lying flat on the bed, Jaehyun between your legs. His mouth hovers over your core, already wet and dripping despite not having been touched. He plays idly with the slick on your upper thigh, drawing random patterns into the flesh. His eyes are dark, and you could swear that they’re entirely black, no white visible. He peers curiously up at you from between your legs, watching your reaction as his fingers get closer and closer to where you want him. Your breathing picks up as arousal thrums through your body, center pulsing and aching for some sort of relief.

“May I have you?” His breath ghosts over your center when you speak, the sensation making you even needier. 

You nod quickly. “Take it, fuck, you have all of me.” He grins, wasting no time in diving in. His tongue feels impossibly good, licking up your folds and circling over your clit. He leaves sloppy kisses along your core, one hand massaging your thigh and keeping you spread open. You cry out when his tongue pushes into you, his nose brushing your clit and sending sparks up your spine.

His tongue feels impossibly long, so good inside of you that you feel like you’re losing your mind. Your hips buck up desperately, riding his face to hell and back. One arm gets thrown over your stomach to keep you in place while two fingers from his free hand dip into your soaking core, curling into that spot immediately. Stars flash behind your eyes, one hand coming down to fist in Jaehyun’s hair. Your feet scramble frantically along his back, heels digging in in an effort to anchor yourself, toes curling at the sensations singing through you.

You feel your orgasm drawing closer, heat pooling in your center. You whimper brokenly as you try to chase after your high, grinding your hips along his tongue. He lets you, just holding his tongue flat out for you to ride.

You come like that, falling apart on his tongue, screams of his name falling from your lips. He works you through it, tongue gently licking along your folds, slurping up your arousal as if he hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

You lay there, boneless and whimpering weakly through the aftershocks until Jaehyun pulls away to kiss up your body. He licks into your mouth hotly, reminding you that he hasn’t come yet. You bat weakly at his chest, pushing him onto his back. “Your turn,”

He groans in appreciation at the view of you above him. “So perfect, little bird. I’m gonna have so much fun with your soul.”

This sentence freezes you in your spot. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Jaehyun meets your gaze, black eyes entrancing you. “That means, y/n, that I’m going to have your soul. You belong to me now, hmm?” One of his hands plays gently with a strand of your hair. “That’s what you agreed to earlier, no?”

“N-no.” You try backing away, but the inhuman voice from earlier is back, echoing everywhere, repeating his words over and over until you can’t take it anymore-

You wake with a gasp, hitting your head as you sit up. Your computer is still on your lap, episode fifteen playing. Fuck, you’ve only been asleep for forty five minutes. It’s not even three yet, and you don’t have to go to work until eight. Deciding there’s no way you’re falling back asleep, you get up and decide to bake.

Five hours later, your coworkers love you when you show up with containers of cinnamon rolls, five different types of cookies, and a coffee cake. Mark looks mildly worried.

“You okay? I haven’t seen you bake since high school.” You snap out of your thoughts and turn to face Mark. The look of concern on your best friend’s face is enough to make you feel guilty and you nod, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Had a bad dream last night and couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You respond, trying not to show how bothered you actually are.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mark leans forward over his desk, chin planted on his hand.

“No, it’s gonna sound dumb.” You whine, shaking your head. And it is dumb, even to you. You’re scared because you had a dream that some man ate you out and then told you he was going to take your soul?

“Well, you always sound dumb. Of course your dreams are gonna be dumb.” Mark laughs as you chuck a piece of cake at him, infectious laugh soothing you. You sigh.

Mark raises his eyebrows at you when you finish telling him your dream. “You’re scared because you had a wet dream? Damn, I’d be living in a nightmare if I was scared after every wet dream I’ve had.”

You kick him under the table. “Mark! It was really scary. He told me he was going to take my soul!”

Upon seeing that you’re actually freaked out, his face softens. “Look, y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You probably just thought that he was hot, and your brain remembered his face and put it in a dream. I wouldn’t worry about it; what’s the worst he’s gonna do, haunt you?”

You give a shaky nod, agreeing. It’s not like something from your dreams could actually harm you. Mark reaches across the desk, taking your hand in his and giving a tight squeeze, warm brown eyes gazing at you openly. “And if something does happen, just remember that I’m your best friend. I’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks, Mark. Means a lot to me.”

He leans back in his seat. “Anytime, anyplace, anything. Triple A.”

You smile, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?”

His eyes go wide, taking in the glint in your eyes. “Within reason.”

“How about a sip of coffee?” You nod down at his cup, pasting a huge smile on your face.

“I did say within reason, so no.”

You huff. “I expected that.”

Although you don’t scare easily, it’s safe to say that you’re a bit unsettled tonight, especially after your nightmare last night. You find yourself jumping at every little noise, hand slamming the light switch on with your pulse racing every five minutes. This has been going on for an hour, and after a final sweep of your room reveals nothing, you decide that maybe a face mask will help you relax.

Your bathroom has two mirrors facing each other, which is normally a blessing when you do your hair, but tonight it does nothing but make you want to hide under your blankets.

Get a grip on yourself, you chastise, grabbing your phone and opening spotify. Maybe some music will help? You click on your Christmas playlist because what better way to cheer up than to think about your favorite holiday?

A mistake, really, because it seems that you’ve forgotten how creepy Santa is.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake,” Yikes. You stop that song in a hurry, feeling anything but comforted. No music then, noted.

You reach for your face wash, turning the sink on and waiting for the water to warm. You can’t help but glance in the mirror behind you every so often, paranoia getting the best of you. Man, you feel pathetic, worrying about monsters in your closet like you’re six and not twenty-six.

You wash your face quickly, hoping that your fears will wash away as well. No such luck.

You swear you see something move behind you after you dry your face off, but there’s nothing there. Shaking it off, you reach for your face mask, taking your time painting your face with the green clay.

It’s after your face is coated that you spot someone in the glass behind you. You scream, whipping around to come face to face with a man. Not just any man- Jaehyun.

Your heart thunders in your chest, eyes widening in fear. He seems to be in the mirror, copying your petrified expression mockingly.

“Hello, little bird.” He purrs, smirking lightly.

“Are you- are you in my mirror?” You’re in disbelief, mind struggling to comprehend this. First you spot him while in a weird trance, then in a dream, and now in your mirror? Maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis.

“No, I am not. Mirrors are just gateways to alternate dimensions. I’m merely using the mirror to visit you.” He says this like it’s common knowledge. It feels like your throat is made of sandpaper with how hard it is to choke out your words. “O-okay. I’m just gonna- yeah.”

You grab your phone from the counter and bolt, fumbling for your keys before jumping into your car and speeding off in the direction of Mark’s house. You call him, fingers fumbling on the screen. He goes to voicemail the first time, and your heart drops. “No, no, no,” you whisper frantically, calling again. He does pick up this time.

“Y/n? It’s the middle of the night.” His voice sounds gruff, and you feel guilty for waking him up. One glance in your rear view mirror reveals that Jaehyun is joining you on this ride, and you scream, car swerving violently to one side before you straighten it out.

“Where are we going, little bird?”

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Mark’s voice has lost its sleepy edge, taking on a concerned tone. He says your name again, more frantic.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your tires squeal as you make a turn, now only two blocks away. “Can I- can I come over? I really need to be with someone right now.”

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome. The door’s unlocked.”

You hang up, willing the tears in your eyes to not spill over. Finally arriving, you slam on the breaks and haphazardly pull next to a curb, yanking the key out of the ignition and sprinting to Mark’s house.

You lock the door behind you when you step inside, testing the handle as if a door could stop a mirror traveling demon or whatever the fuck Jaehyun was from coming inside. “Mirrors,” you mumble, reaching the stairs.

“Y/n? What’s-” Mark stands at the top of the stairs, one hand rubbing at his eyes. You cut him off, flying up the stairs.

“Mirrors, fuck. Mark, we need to cover the mirrors!” You breeze by his shocked figure, not noticing the way he turns to stare at you incredulously.

“What, why? Y/n, are you crazy?”

Ignoring him, you throw a towel over the mirror in his bathroom, ripping open a pack of bandaids to use as adhesive.

You throw another towel over the mirror in his bedroom, collapsing on his bed when you’re done and finally allowing yourself to sob.

“Y/n, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Mark, as gentle and caring as ever, comes over to sit next to you, one hand combing through your hair.

“I- don’t laugh at me.” You stare him straight in the eye, pleading with him. You know you’re going to sound crazy, but you’re praying that your best friend listens to you. He nods, urging you to go on.

“That- that man I saw in my dream and during whatever fucked up game Hyuck had us play? He was in my fucking mirror, Mark. I- the whole night, I had this feeling that I was being watched, and then I went into my bathroom and he was just there, and-” You’re hyperventilating at this point, fighting for every breath, tears clouding your vision. “He was in my car, in the rear view mirror-” Mark pulls you closer, enveloping you in his arms and allowing you to sob loudly into his chest. You cry for a few minutes, until you’re finally able to pull yourself together.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’ve had a rough week, I know. It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

He wipes a tear away from your check, patting you lightly. “Why don’t you go wash this off, okay? We can watch a movie after.” He offers, and until that point, you’d forgotten you were wearing a face mask. You grimace at the green imprint on his black shirt, but he just chuckles. “I’ll go grab you some water in the meantime.”

Nodding, you garner up the energy to walk to his bathroom. It’s fine, the mirror’s covered, he can’t hurt you. You close the door just in case, wanting an extra level of protection

You rinse your face with cold water, hoping that it will clear your mind. You give your face a couple more splashes before drying off with a towel.

“You missed a spot on your forehead.” You freeze before looking around wildly. There’s no one around, which can only mean that Jaehyun can still see you. Swallowing, you start the water again, rubbing at your forehead.

“And your left cheek.” You rub at the skin, being way too harsh but you excuse it considering your situation. “No, your other left. My left.”

“Jesus,” You growl in annoyance, reaching up to rip the towel down. Sure enough, there’s a splotch of green on your cheek. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be found. Maybe I am losing my mind.

You finish rinsing the mask off, finding some face lotion buried in Mark’s drawer, screaming bloody murder when Jaehyun appears in the mirror again. “Looking for me?”

“No! Leave me alone!” You cry, head spinning. Jaehyun fakes a pout, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Do demons even have hearts?

“Ouch, little bird. You don’t want to finish what we started the other night? When I had you moaning so pretty, so wet for me. I’m sure your pussy would take me so well, hmm?” Your heart rate kicks up again, but for a different reason this time. You almost moan, thinking about the dream.

Because he was right, you had been so wet. The want comes back full forces, slamming into you like a truck. You remember how needy you were, wanting to suck his cock so bad, wanting him to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. All fear that you previously had is slowly disappearing, fading into lust.

The demon smiles knowingly. “Ah, little bird, so you do remember. Remember how you promised me that you’re mine?”

You nod, eyes glazing over. You’re wet, panties starting to stick to your throbbing core uncomfortably.

“Mmmh, I bet you’re already dripping for me. Just waiting for me to come out and fill you up.”

Hearing your name leave his lips sends a wave of arousal crashing through you so strong that your knees buckle, grabbing onto the counter for support. He chuckles, but whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Mark.

“What were you say-” Your best friend trails off, eyes wide as he observes the scene. You snap out of your haze at the interruption. His mouth parts in shock. “You really weren’t kidding, shit.” He laughs humorlessly.

Then, quick as lightning, he rears back and punches the mirror. You scream in surprise at the crack, shards falling to the floor.

You and Mark both stare at the broken shards of glass on the ground, gleaming under the lights. “Mark,” You start, trailing off once you realize you have nothing to say. He seems to understand, walking forward until he’s close enough to pull you into a hug. You feel tears start to slide down your cheeks, dampening the cotton of your best friends shirt. You hug him closer, burying your face into his broad chest. He wraps himself around you, and you let yourself be lulled into the sense of security that his larger frame brings you. A sense of security that vanishes once you hear a low chuckle that definitely does not belong to Mark.

You both scream, leaping backwards and away from the noise. Jaehyun stands there, just in front of the door, with a shit eating grin on his face. You cower behind Mark, who is wrapping a protective arm around you while simultaneously trying to hide behind you.

“I really must thank you for finally setting me free. Normally I have to wait for some asshole with a ouija board, but then there’s just so many other demons that I have to compete with. So I just stick to the dream world-” He pauses to wink at you for emphasis “-but this is so much more fun.” His eyes are black, and you can’t tell where he’s looking. Swallowing, you clutch onto Mark’s arm for dear life.

The demon seems to regard the two of you for a moment, before his amusement seems to grow. He begins to move forward.

“Ah, Mark Lee. Lovely name for a stupid boy. Didn’t you know breaking a mirror is bad luck?” By this point, you and Mark are flattened against the wall, while Jaehyun stands less than a foot away from the two of you. There’s nowhere to run. This is it, you think, this is how I die.

Jaehyun chuckles, turning to you. You lower your gaze to the ground; it hurts to make eye contact with him. “No, little bird. This isn’t how you die, don’t worry.”

Then he’s backing away from the two of you, motioning to follow him. The logical part of your brain is screaming not to, but you find yourself drawn to him, legs carrying you after him without your consent, Mark clutching your arm tightly as he walks next to you.

Jaehyun seems to know the layout of the house, leading you straight into Mark’s bedroom. The demon grabs a chair from the desk and spins it around, straddling it so that he’s facing the bed.

He motions lazily. “Go on now, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

You find yourself sitting down on the edge of the bed, following his words like marching orders. Mark sits about half a foot away from you. Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, no, no. That won’t do. I said to get comfortable, did I not?” He raises an eyebrow as if daring you to argue with him. “Go lay down at the head board.”

You crawl to the head of the bed, settling so that you’re on your side, facing the demon. Mark follows suit, pulling you close to him so that you’re spooning. Jaehyun lets out a pleased hum. “Much better. Aren’t you much more comfortable now?” Nodding, you realize that you actually are more comfortable. It’s not just the change of position, but the energy in the room as well. The demon is no longer giving off a threatening aura. It’s more relaxed, maybe even happy? He certainly looks more relaxed, probably as happy as a demon can get, if not a little smug.

Your body is pulsing with energy, and it takes you a moment to place what you’re feeling. The earlier need to run that you had felt has been replaced with another need, albeit further down. Your thighs clench as another surge of heat pulses through your core, and your face warms at the realization. Why now, of all times, are you horny?

Jaehyun’s grin broadens as he seems to sense your dilemma. “Oh, little bird, if only you knew. Tell me, what type of demon do you think I am?” He watches you curiously, black eyes staring into your soul.

You try to tilt your head towards Mark, but the position’s too awkward and you only catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He looks a bit flushed from what you can see, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip, teeth that you could easily replace with your own- you blink, dazedly. What the fuck? Sexual thoughts about your best friend? That’s a new one. Even if you’ve noticed that he’s hot, you’d never thought about him sexually. Now, though, you can feel the hardness of his dick against your ass, and you can’t help but think about how good he could fuck you.

“Incubus,” You finally manage, blinking rapidly to clear the haze of your vision. Jaehyun grins, looking genuinely surprised that you’d gotten it right.

“Good girl. Make a little sense now?” You nod, fighting a moan as Mark starts to rock against you, slowly, as if he’s unconsciously doing it. Jaehyun notices.

“How about you, Mark? You doing alright over there?”

Your friend, your best friend, buries his face in your neck and groans, deep and delicious. It sends another surge of heat through your body, the growing need between your legs pulsing pathetically. “What are you doing to us?” The words are growled behind you, vibrating against the skin where his lips are pressed.

“Oh no, Mark, I’m not doing anything to you. The only thing I can do to you is make you realize your desires. Your deepest, darkest fantasies? I make that happen. Finally being able to fuck the girl you’ve been in love with for years? I make that happen.” The words take a minute to register with you, but you stiffen when the meaning hits you. Mark Lee, in love with you? An unlikely story, bordering impossible.

The demon chuckles at your inner turmoil, rolling his eyes at how dumb humans can be. “You too, y/n. You love Mark, even if you won’t admit it. You let the idea that he was too good for you scare you away from him. Do you not remember how often you thought of him, late at night after first meeting him?”

You groan in protest, not because it’s not true, but because you do remember. It had been so long ago. When you hadn’t known Mark, had only known of him. You pull away from Mark, awkwardly pushing him to lay flat against the pillows while you clamber on top of him.

“Mark, is it true? Do you love me?” You hold his face between your hands, staring into his eyes. He meets your gaze, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. He nods as best he can.

“So, so much.” Mark’s voice comes out raspy, matching his flushed skin. You lean down to kiss him, uncaring of the other presence in the room. Mark moans when your lips make contact, hands pulling you to straddle him. Your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his clothed cock against your center, rocking your hips to try to ease the throb of your core. His hands fly to your ass, pulling and kneading at the flesh as he urges you into a harsher pace.

The kiss is rougher, needier now, open mouthed and panting. Mark’s got his tongue tangled with yours, sucking in such a way that sends waves of heat through you. You want him in you, any part of him really.

Jaehyun seems to agree, speaking up from right next to you. You jump, having forgotten he was there although he’s the reason you’re like this in the first place.

“Let’s get the show on the road. As much as I’m enjoying this, I think we’d all enjoy something else a little more.” The demon reaches for the hem of your shirt and you nod, raising your arms above your head to let him pull the garment off. Mark groans at the newly revealed skin, hands going to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Fuck,” He whines, staring in awe at your chest. He doesn’t waste time before leaning up to kiss along your cleavage, pulling the bra down to expose your breasts. Another set of hands unclasp the bra before traveling down your torso to rub circles into your hip bones, sliding your sleeping shorts and panties off at the same time. Jaehyun throws the shorts somewhere off the bed. He keeps the panties, a pleased sigh leaving him as he appreciates the ruined fabric.

“Fuck, little bird. You’re really enjoying this,” He comments, as if he isn’t a fucking lust demon that can sense these kinds of things. You don’t voice your thoughts, because Mark chooses this moment to suck a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin so that all you can do is moan. “You’ve even ruined your panties. They’re soaked.”

He hands the strip of lace to Mark, who lets out a throaty groan at the sight. “You’re not getting these back.” He informs you, slipping the garment into his bedside drawer. You ignore him, instead tugging insistently at his shirt. He takes pity on you, grabbing the collar and yanking the baggy tee over his head.

You let your hands slide down his chest in admiration, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. You lick your lips at how broad his shoulders are, how strong he looks. Jaehyun doesn’t give you much time to enjoy the view, gliding two fingers along your slit before circling around your little nub. A cry of pleasure leaves you to mindlessly press your face into Mark’s collarbone, nipping and sucking the flesh until you’re sure you’ve left a bruise.

Jaehyun slips the two fingers into your aching core, curling and dragging them so well along your walls. Sparks of electricity flow through your veins, heat pooling in your center.

Mark groans from below you. Looking down, you see that you’ve unconsciously dug your nails into his hard chest in an effort to ground yourself. You remove your hands, only to spot little red half crescents littered over his skin. You rub your palms over the marks as if to soothe them, but it seems that the man wasn’t groaning from pain.

“Y/n” He sounds so fucked out, voice hoarse and raw even though hardly anything has happened yet. “You look so good like this, so perfect for me.” He brings one large hand up to cup your cheek, thumb delicately stroking over your cheekbone before moving down to trace your lower lip. You part your lips, letting him slide in before sucking around the digit, tongue curling around it as if it were his cock. His eyes darken a fraction, tongue coming out to wet his lips, swollen and kiss bitten.

You moan around the digit as Jaehyun adds a third finger, stretching your walls so pleasantly that you can’t help but buck your hips back for more. A whine forces its way out of your throat as the demon pulls his fingers out of you, leaving an empty ache between your thighs.

“Don’t you think it would be more fun if she was sucking on something a bit bigger than your finger, Mark?” The voice startles you, breath tickling your ear as he speaks. The man under you nods, swallowing thickly. Your eyes are drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement, and a gush of wetness pulses down below. Your thighs are probably covered in your arousal at this point.

You scoot down his body, trailing kisses and bites down his toned stomach. You take your time unzipping his pants, sucking a mark into the soft skin below his navel. He’s hard as a rock, and you moan in appreciation at the sheer size of him once you shimmy his jeans down his thighs.

“No underwear?” You ask, mouth curling up in a teasing smirk. He huffs out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can watch. “No, ‘s too restricting.”

You lazily pump his dick, thumb flicking over the tip once or twice. You plan to tease him more, but then Jaehyun’s pushing your head down and you have no choice but to open your mouth wide, innocent eyes peeking up at Mark as you take his cock in your mouth. He’s so big that you can’t take him in all the way, keeping one hand curled around his cock to stroke what your mouth can’t reach. You let it get sloppy, using your spit to ease the glide until you’ve got a pleasant rhythm going. Mark replaces Jaehyun’s hands with his own, gathering strands of your hair in his palms and using that grip to control your pace. “F-fuck,” He lets out a shaky exhale, letting his head fall back against the pillows once he’s satisfied with the pace.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, a loud smack sounding throughout the room. You moan, pitching forward onto Mark’s cock and gagging as he hits the back of your throat. A strangled cry leaves the man above you, his hips thrusting even further into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.

The demon kneads your stinging flesh before using his grip on you to pull your hips up. “Good girl,” You keen under his praises, sticking your ass up even higher. The warm, wet pressure against your center has you faltering, moaning almost violently around Mark’s cock. He doesn’t seem to be having any complaints, the vibrations forcing a moan of his own out.

Your eyes roll up into your head as Jaehyun wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You’re sure you’d be screaming by now if Mark’s cock wasn’t halfway down your throat. You’ve given up sucking him off by this point, content to let the man fuck your mouth while Jaehyun sucks your fucking soul out from between your legs. It feels so good, not used to being the center of even one man’s focus, let alone two.

Mark eases you off of his cock after you accidentally bite him, using your spit to ease the slide as he lazily fucks up into his loose fist. You rest your head on his thigh, alternating between moaning wantonly and mouthing messily against the skin as you feel your orgasm approach.

Jaehyun pulls away at the last second, and you whine loudly as your orgasm is cut off. The feeling of frustration leaves you close to tears, and you jiggle your ass in hopes that it will regain his attention. It does momentarily, as Jaehyun lands a harsh smack on the flesh, but he pulls away again.

“Mark,” The man in question looks up, hand freezing on his dick as if waiting for Jaehyun’s orders. And fuck, what a sight that would be: your normally brash and confident friend being so pliant and submissive to a near stranger… You blink out of it, feeling mildly ashamed even in your current state. Luckily, Jaehyun interrupts your thoughts. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you go first. You’ve been waiting long enough for this, anyway.”

Mark nods eagerly, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You paw at every inch of skin you can reach, searching for a release from the ache inside of you. Your wish is granted when he hooks two fingers in your soaking cunt, groaning at how wet you are. He scissors you open quickly, hissing at how tight you feel.

“Ready, angel? Want my cock?” The pet name has you moaning, though it draws a low chuckle from Jaehyun, who’s watching from his position next to Mark.

“Hurry up, already. Need you in me, ‘ve waited so long.”

Mark lights up at this, smile stretching his features. He looks so breathtaking in this moment, skin glowing and flushed, hair mussed up, eyes blown wide and half lidded.

“I’m yours,” He breathes, leaning up for one last kiss. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you forward so that you’re hovering above his thick cock. “Ride me baby.”

“I’d love to.” Reaching one hand down to position him at your entrance, you start to lower yourself down. Of course, Jaehyun chooses this exact moment to stop you. He truly is the spawn of Satan.

“Little bird, hold on just a second. I found something of interest in the back of Markie’s brain.” You cringe as he mocks your earlier nickname for the man. “What’s this I’m seeing, Mark? You like it up the ass?” His tone is teasing, but Mark groans in embarrassment. His face has gone an alarming shade of red by this point. “N-no,” He tries to deny, sputtering excuses but Jaehyun cuts him off with a press of a finger to his lips. “Oh, Mark, don’t get shy on me now. It’s a perfectly fine thing to like. Little bird, you’ll get your turn in a minute. You,” He snaps his fingers at Mark. “Come here. Kneel up, just like that. Perfect.” He appraises Mark’s ass for a moment, hands moulding the flesh before slipping a finger in. Mark’s eyebrows furrow, and you shoot up in alarm. “Doesn’t he need lube?”

Jaehyun looks at you, surprised that you care, before chuckling. “I can produce lube. Perks of being a lust demon.” Winking at you, he returns his focus to Mark. You can’t see what he’s doing, but the pure pleasure present on your best friends face has you clenching your thighs together, waves of need crashing through you. If you thought he looked good before, he looks absolutely gone now. Breathless groans are leaving him now, eyelids fighting to stay open as he sinks down on the others fingers. You watch him, mesmerized, before shuffling over to him.

“How close are you?”

He forces his gaze down to you. “Kind of- nngh- close, w-why?” 

Wrapping a hand around his base lightly, you start stroking. “Will you come if I blow you?”

He moans, a punched out sound that takes you by surprise. “Fuck, yes, I’ll definitely come if you blow me.” You pout in disappointment. Upon seeing your crestfallen expression, he continues. “Maybe we c-can- oh, yes- figure something out. Jaehyun,” He turns his head back behind him, struggling to get the words out between moans. “Can I eat y/n out?”

There’s just something so hot about Mark asking for permission from someone else that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. Jaehyun must nod, because then you’re being laid back, Mark settling between your thighs. He’s sucking sweet kisses into your core almost immediately, pulling your legs over his shoulders to give him better access. You’re letting out sharp cries of pleasure the whole time, eyes fighting the urge to roll back in your head in favor of watching Mark between your legs. A particularly well placed flick of his tongue has your hips rolling against his face, grasping the sheets in your hand as your mind blanks. The pleasure climbing through your system is insane, threatening to burn you from the inside out.

It only gets better once Mark starts moaning, his sinful mouth sending sweet vibrations traveling up your core. You manage to catch sight of Jaehyun behind him, kissing wetly along his shoulders and neck, features curving into a smirk once he notices you watching him.

“Little bird likes this, hmm? Like watching another man pleasure your boyfriend while he pleases you?” You hum, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze, unable to even think, letting his boyfriend comment slide. Whereas before it hurt to look directly into his eyes, you now find yourself getting lost in his dark orbs. It’s like a drug, your pleasure being amplified by the man, demon, whatever in front of you.

You finally break eye contact, head falling back against the mattress as Mark draws you closer and closer to your peak. Burying one hand in his hair, you use the leverage to grind your core against his face, chasing your sweet release. “C-close, Mark, please-” You don’t know what you’re begging for at this point. It’s too much but not enough at the same time. Jaehyun saves you from having to decide by cruelly ripping your orgasm away from you, again, dragging Mark’s face away from your pussy.

A few tears slip down your face at this point, frustration reaching its peak. Jaehyun wipes the tears away, laughing lowly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire soon.”

He must pull out of Mark, because your friend whimpers before seeming to realize what he just did and clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Mark, would you like to fuck our little bird now?” Mark nods, tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.

Jaehyun smirks. “Good. On your back. Y/n, ride him.” You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble onto your knees, wasting no time in straddling Mark before dropping yourself down on him. You both moan in satisfaction, you at finally being filled and Mark at your tightness. You have to brace both hands on his chest, almost collapsing at the overwhelming relief you feel. Beyond the burn of the stretch, his cock filling you up so nicely, there’s a sweet pleasure, a satisfaction.

You don’t wait very long to adjust, grinding your hips in smooth circles before lifting yourself off of him and dropping yourself back down. You quickly start a rhythm of you bouncing on his cock, eyes rolling at how fucking big he feels in you.

Mark’s hands are locked in a vice grip on your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh and using his grip to urge you into a faster pace.

Jaehyun decides to join, coming up behind you to kiss at your neck, one hand reaching up to your mouth. “Suck,” He commands, slipping two fingers past your willing lips. You do, hollowing your cheeks and slurping around the digits, wishing that it was his dick. He hums behind you, bringing the wet digits down to your entrance, finding your clit with ease and rubbing fast circles into the little nub. You moan even louder now, feeling yourself speed towards your climax. You’ve been on edge for too long, you can’t hold on anymore.

“You close, little bird? Going to come on Mark’s cock? Gonna make him fill you up, pound into that dirty cunt?” His words get to you, your head falling back against his shoulder once more.

“Yes, yes! Oh, please, please-” He cuts off your mindless rambling by pulling you in for a kiss, one that you melt into. This is the first time he’s kissed you, and you’re quite upset that you hadn’t kissed him earlier. It’s a hot kiss, lots of tongue and teeth. It heightens your pleasure immensely, and you can’t stop kissing him. You suck on his tongue filthily, and oh, he must like that if the resulting groan is anything to go by. Even when he goes to pull away, you won’t let him, one hand fisting in his hair to keep him close. He seems to be speeding up your release, if that were even possible. Your mind feels hazier now, every sensation heightened, core screaming for release. You feel your orgasm twisting painfully at your insides, pulsing before finally exploding. The intensity of it rips a scream out of your throat, nails scratching across Mark’s chest as Jaehyun licks even deeper into your mouth, drinking up the noises you make.

When you come down, Mark is still thrusting desperately up into you, though he stops at the demons command. “From behind,” You hear Jaehyun say, but everything’s hazy at this point. Your mind is still fuzzy from your orgasm, and it’s like watching through a screen. Like you’re high, though you hadn’t had anything the whole day.

Mark manhandles you into position, hands and knees with your ass raised high in the air. He leaves one gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before relentlessly pounding into you, cock hitting even deeper in this position. Jaehyun kneels in front of you, pulling your face in towards his cock. You moan around him as he slips inside, mouth not quite burning at the stretch like Mark, though the demon still has you gagging. His cock has the same effect on you as his kisses did, and you feel addicted. You’re slurping and sucking and moaning around him, not wanting the intense pleasure to stop. You barely hear the kissing above you, taking far too long to register that Jaehyun has pulled Mark into a messy kiss above you. The image has you moaning even more wantonly, ass pushing back against Mark.

The kiss seems to have a similar effect on the man, because then he’s slamming into you at an even more relentless rate, moans higher and more frequent before he’s coming with a shout, finally filling you up. Your core pulses again at the feeling, and you suck at Jaehyun’s dick with renewed vigor. His hands fist in your hair, keeping you still so that he can fuck your mouth as hard as he wants. You relish in the feeling of your throat being fucked raw, spit dripping out of your mouth and down his cock. He lets out a deep groan, hips slamming deep one last time as he finishes. His cum seems to ignite a fire within you, because you’re coming almost simultaneously with him, despite not even being touched.

You collapse afterwards, dragging yourself to Mark and letting him drape himself over you. You let yourself drift off to sleep, sated and still riding the high.

The demon kisses each of you one last time, drinking in the last remaining parts of your soul, watching as the two humans take their last breaths. “Thanks for the meal, lovelies.” He chuckles, petting your head almost affectionately before walking out into the night sky, not sparing a single glance back.

[tohokuu]

murders and thieves - jeong yunho

this is purely a work of fiction. it does not represent ateez, yunho or kq entertainment in any way.

warnings : dark content, serial killer!yunho, blood, mentions of murder, smut, oral / f receiving

wc : not much

a/n : i was watching some true crime last night and it made me think…

yunho :( big ‘ole yunho :(

his large hands and towering frame protecting you at early hours of the morning when you’re laying cuddling in your bed, watching true crime from your phone. he can’t help the shivers that go up your body when the narrator talks about something particularly creepy. you curl into him deeper, as if hiding away in his arms is going to solve all your problems.

and they did. for the most part.

because you didn’t know that your boyfriend was just like those bad men the narrator talked about. oh he would never hurt you, of course. but there were many women that agitated him to no end each day that would eventually cause their demise.

and what do you get in it ?

a new piece of jewelry. maybe a pendant, an anklet, or even a ring.

“baby, when did you get this for me ?” you gushed

“oh just another shift, baby. i know you love wearing rings.”

anything for his lovely baby.

you don’t know it’s the hands of a murderer when he spread open your thighs, diving in deep to take a lick at your cute cunt. you don’t know it’s the same tongue that spewed harsh words at his victim. the lips that kiss your clit, the ones that send your hips in a frenzy. you don’t know that it’s the same lips that spread wide when he sees his victims choke on their own blood

and most importantly, his fingers. the ones that dive deep inside you, sending you into a mindless pit of overstimulation and pleasure. they’re the same ones that actively pick apart at someone’s necklace, so he can give it to you.

because every ounce of blood that he sheds, he owes it to you.

[yourtamaki]

a kind dream, a cold reality

keigo x f!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort, neglect

there was peace in stability. when exciting beginnings morphed into routine, safe knowing exactly how your days would pan out.

there was also distance. when love declarations became monotone, more habit then heartfelt and kisses become another chore to check off a list.

when did domesticity become purgatory, doomed to repeat actions until all sparks of life had been drained away?

you stood in the kitchen, preparing dinner nearly on autopilot. you didn’t have to look at the time anymore, you’re own internal clock telling you there was 30 minutes until it was done, perfectly timed for when keigo came home from work.

for when he’s supposed to come home at least.

you tried to not think of how many meals had gone cold while waiting for him to return from wherever it was he decided was important to be then with you. at least the neighbours loved you, accepting the countless dishes that would otherwise have gone to waste. you wondered what lie you should tell them today. that you had made too much? that you were trying out a new recipe? you had plenty of time to decide.

setting the table was now a mindless activity, each plate and piece of cutlery placed just so across the dining table. when everything was in its rightful place, you brought out the pasta dish, setting it in the middle in a large bowl with tongs propped up inside. you could never guess how much keigo would eat on any given day so it was always best to let him serve himself. with nothing left to do, you took your seat before the empty plate, staring blankly ahead at where keigo was supposed to be.

you used to love this table. it had been the first thing you and keigo had bought together when you first moved in together. not a bed or a couch. a dining room table from a second hand store he insisted you had to go to because, “we need something alive with memories, songbird.”

you remember how you had both spotted it at the same time. tucked away in the corner, legs scuffed to hell but with the most beautiful dark oak surface you’d ever seen. you hadn’t realized how small it was either until you both sat down for the first time with shitty takeout because neither of you had thought to buy cookware. it was impossible for your knees not to bump into keigo’s, for his thigh not to end up between yours. you both loved the table too much to return it so you had to learn to adjust. now, it was your favourite aspect about the table, the added feeling of closeness as you shared a meal with the love of your life. it set the tone for the rest of your house, turning it from somewhere to live to a shared home.

these days, you had more space then you knew what to do with, your legs could swing under the table unobstructed. you hated it.

your stomach growled, the sound quickly swallowed up by the vast silence. you didn’t want to eat. not yet, not while there was a chance he showed up and you wouldn’t ruin your first meal together in who knows how long just because you got a little peckish. you could wait.

and wait you did.

you plated up a portion for yourself as the setting sun darkened the house, eating mechanically until your fork had nothing left to pick up. the next part was almost a ritual at this point. storing the food away in tupperware, cleaning the dishes, wiping down the kitchen so come morning you could start the cycle once more. you had perfected the routine down to every last detail. there was nothing left to do but get ready to sleep and lay in bed, idly playing with the crimson feather that hung around your neck.

you could refrain from touching it throughout the day but you couldn’t stand not holding it when you were alone in the too wide bed. you were supposed to be surrounded by hundreds of these feathers. you missed the way his wings would wrap around you during the night, pulling you into keigo’s chest. sleep wasn’t the same without them but you had no choice but to make do with the lone feather.

was this going to be the rest of your life? cooking meals no one would eat, cleaning an already spotless house, sleeping cold and alone? this isn’t the future keigo promised you when he got down on one knee, tears already streaming down his face. you weren’t naive, you knew there would be hard times in your marriage. it couldn’t be sunshine and roses all the time. you just thought he would be by your side when those times came.

a tapping at the window had you shooting up in bed in fear, head whipping towards the sound. an all too familiar outline was hovering outside, waving for you to open the window. you carefully made your way across the dark room. you’d unlatched the large window so many times it had become muscle memory and soon enough, your husband was flying through, landing lightly on his feet.

for a brief moment, a warm burst of love filled you. he was home, just an arm’s length away. you knew you’d forgive everything, everything, if he wrapped you up in a tight hug. the one that hurt your ribs and left your feet dangling in the air as he swung you around. the one where you felt his laugh more than heard it, you were pressed so close to his chest. that’s all you needed to remind yourself what you were fighting for. just one hug.

keigo walked past you without a word and the moment died. you think a piece of you died with it. an important piece. it would remind you of the better times, when you weren’t a wife but a girlfriend. when you were a priority in his life, when you could count on him dropping everything if you needed him. the piece that kept you together, kept you whole was gone and in its place was not emptiness but indifference.

“you’re really not going to say anything?” you didn’t understand why your voice came out so hoarse until you realized it was the first time you’ve used it all day. keigo didn’t pause as you broke the silence, continuing to undress with his back to you.

“‘m tired, songbird. can we do this later?” can’t he feel it? the precipice your relationship is on the edge of, threatening to fall and shatter into a thousand pieces at any moment? it dawns on you, watching him yawn and stretch, shaking out his feathers, that no. he doesn’t.

“keigo.” he turned to face you, blinking at the use of his name. always kei, never keigo. “i think i need a break. ”

he huffed out a confused laugh. “break from what?”

“a break from us.” you never knew silence could be so cold. so cold it left you shivering in its grasp. that’s the only explanation of why you were shaking so hard you had to clench your teeth to stop them from chattering.

“that’s not funny, dove.”

“i’m not joking.”

“why?” it was your turn to laugh, a broken, shrill thing that hurt your ears.

“you can’t think of one reason? one reason i’d have to be unhappy in this relationship?”

“look, i know i’m not around much these days but-“

“days? try months.” you felt nauseous at the sight of him, pale faced and eyes that darted around like a cornered animal looking for an escape. distantly, you realized this was unfair to him. you had ambushed him, gave him no preparation for what was quickly turning into a fight. but the hurt that had been growing inside you, gnarled and twisted with thorns that wrapped around your heart and shredded it with every beat demanded to be heard. you could flood your home with all the pain you housed.

“i’m sorry, songbird but i’m a hero. i work the hours commission tells me to. i can’t be here all day with you and you knew that when we first got together.”

“don’t try to make me sound unreasonable for wanting to spend time with my husband. i’m alone, keigo.”

“i know.”

“no you don’t! i am alone. i don’t have friends cause they all used me to get close to the number two hero. i had to sign a contract that said i wasn’t allowed to tell anyone where we lived. i don’t leave the house cause i’m terrified of someone recognizing me and using me against you. i am alone, keigo. with not even myself for company cause i don’t know who i am anymore outside of being your wife.”

he bowed his head, shoulders shaking though you didn’t know from what, his wings curling in as if to protect himself from your rant. “do you still love me?”

you sighed, your mouth opening and closing trying to think of how best to phrase what you felt towards him, “if i didn’t love you, i wouldn’t be telling you all this. i would’ve just left.”

“then stay. please. we can work through this. i'll be better, i’ll cut my hours. please, y/n. i can’t lose you.”

“i love you, kei. but i don’t think i was ever meant to be your wife.”

he was openly crying now, teary eyes meeting your dry ones. you didn’t know when you’d moved past that stage of grief but you were beyond grateful. it gave you the strength to power through this for the both of you. you owed him at least that kindness.

“that’s all you wanted once.” he whispered.

“the dream was kinder to me than the reality.” the truth of your statement was a punch to the gut. you’d wanted nothing more then to marry him, had daydreamed about it long before he popped the question. it felt like an inevitability. an intrinsic truth. the sky was blue. grass is green. you would be keigo’s wife someday. but love alone wasn’t enough to keep you two afloat. not when you’d been left alone to man a sinking ship. “i’ll take the couch and pack in the morning.”

“no! please if… if this is the last time…”

“it’s not forever, kei. just until i remember who i am outside of these walls.”

“still, can i hold you? please? just for tonight.”

you never could refuse him.

your bodies fit back together as though no time had passed since they’ve last held each other. despite the air still tense with emotion, you felt your body relax in his grasp, conditioned to associating the warmth of his chest against your back with safety. you knew in the morning, you’d wake up happy. the memories from tonight would be slow to trickle back in. but that was a problem for the future. tonight, you would savour the bliss of falling asleep with the person you loved most in the world. and you did love him. loved him so much it hurt. loved him enough to take this step back so he wouldn’t blame himself when he woke up one day and realized his wife had become a shell of herself.

[the-purity-pen]

Hi! Could you do a Billy x Reader where the reader is a virgin and it’s her first time with a Billy?

okay so i definitely didn’t mean for this to be a full on fic, but here it is. i hope you enjoy it! <3

Pairing: Billy Russo x AFAB!Reader (no pronouns)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,373

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

Your nerves were getting the better of you. Your eyes were darting around, avoiding the man before you and your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest. Your hands wrung together in front you as you swallowed a large lump that had formed in your throat. You finally chewed your lower lip and lifted your gaze to meet Billy’s.

He was sitting across from you on the metal picnic table that you were sharing. He leaned forward onto his forearms as they rested on the table, his gaze trying to gauge you and noticing the little twitches of nerves running through your body. His head tilted to one side then the other, trying to read your mind. His lips twitched to one side before his tongue was pressing against the inside of his cheek in thought.

“We don’t have to, you know,” he offered gently, sitting back slowly, his hands coming together on the table. You shook your head slowly in small movements as you watched him move back.

“N-no. I love you, I do. I just-” You didn’t know how to tell your boyfriend that you were a virgin. The conversation hadn’t exactly come up in the last two months that you had been officially dating. You didn’t want to bring it up either. You feared that because you were inexperienced that he would not want you anymore.

Kissing and making out were perfectly fine and maybe some hand stuff happened on your end to him but you always shied away from having him touch you. You had always told him that it was because you wanted to make him feel good and not to worry about yourself.

Billy was far more experienced, having slept with multiple women over the years. When you both were still just friends, he gave quite a few stories of his conquests. Both when he was active duty and after he gained control of ANVIL. It was well known in your circle of friends and was evident any time that you went out together for drinks. The way women would flock to the tall man with a pressed suit and coiffed hair.

Billy stood up then, letting out a quiet sigh as he came around the table and held his hand out to you. You looked up to give him a wry smile but took his hand anyway. He had already paid for dinner and you were done with your dessert but the conversation that had been brought up kept you at the table a bit longer than usual.

Once you were home, you found yourself flipping through your key ring, fumbling to grasp the correct key. Billy looked at you with a furrowed brow and covered your hands with his larger ones, calming your movements. “We seriously don’t gotta do this,” he told you and when you didn’t look at him right away, he called your name quietly.

When you did look up, Billy could see the tears welling at the corners of your eyes. One of his hands came to the side of your face, his thumb swiping away a lone tear that fell. This was your friend Billy, not your boyfriend. The one that cared deeply for your well-being. You sniffled and shook your head, trying to lean into his touch.

“I want to,” you told him before leaning in to press your lips to his softly. Billy groaned quietly, forcing himself to not deepen the kiss right then and there. He pulled back, releasing his breath and looked to you before sliding the keys out of your hand to open the door himself.

Once inside, he closed the door behind you and locked it, tossing your keys onto the small table that lined the foyer. One look at him and you were melted. The softness in his eyes replaced the scarred, broken man that had found you all those years ago. Not many got to see this side of Billy but you were one of the few fortunate ones and now it meant even more that he was being so authentically himself for you.

His hands reached out to touch your shoulders, his fingers ran down the length of them slowly. His eyes were watching his hands move but your eyes were watching his face. He leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek as his hands moved forward to the buttons on your jacket. He unbuttoned them slowly and gave pause to pull back and look you in the eyes.

You looked at him as your teeth gnawed at your bottom lip, slightly swollen from the kiss and tingling for more. Your eyes danced around his dark features and nodded slowly as he made your jacket and subsequently your top fall from your body. You were left in your bra and jeans, on display and while Billy had seen you over the years undressed before him, he knew something about right now was special.

You swallowed hard when he leaned in to kiss your jaw, his hands cupping at your breasts to massage them through the lace. His hands felt warm and all-encompassing as his groped at the muscles, giving them a slight massage that had your head rolling back. But your heart was fluttering and you put your hands on his to stop his movements.

“I’m a virgin,” you blurted out and immediately sucked in a breath. Billy stood up straight and looked at you with furrowed brows. Your breath quivered as you watched him, the man you had given your life to. The one you had spent countless hours shopping and redecorating his crummy little apartment. The one that although being a total ladies man always treated you with respect.

And now was no different. Billy may have been troubled, scarred, broken and done some very bad things but with you, he was always this Billy. The one that after blurting out that you were a virgin simply said, “Do you trust me?”

You blinked, unsure of how he wasn’t just turning away from you. Backing away as if you were tainted in some way or that you were too fragile and he didn’t want to break you. That was the response from every other guy you had been with. But not Billy. 

You nodded slowly and he grinned. “Good. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want to, okay?” His hand came to your cheek and held your face so you couldn’t look away from him. “Okay?” he asked again and you nodded. “You need to say it,” he assured you and you swallowed again, trying to find your voice.

“Y-yes. I trust you Billy,” you managed to squeak out

You didn’t know how many minutes had passed as Billy’s hands on your body and his lips attached to your skin were blurring the lines between seconds and minutes. Your bodies had moved effortlessly through the hall to your bedroom. Billy didn’t need much guidance to find it since it wasn’t his first time being in there. But this had a whole new connotation to it.

His bare chest against yours as his kisses pressed into your lips sent your heart and mind reeling. Your hands were suddenly unsure of what to do so they just traced mindless shapes along the muscles of his shoulders and upper back.

Billy moved so that you were laying on your back on the bed, a slow but gentle movement, his body covering yours. His kisses were gentle and unassuming as he trailed them up your stomach, over your bra and up to your neck. His arms laid to either side of your head when his lips met yours. He pulled himself up a bit, his hand coming to the side of your head to brush through your hair lightly.

“Are you sure?” he whispered quietly against your lips as his nose nudged yours. His eyes caught your gaze and you nodded.

“Yes Billy. I’m yours,” you whispered back before he was kissing you fervently, a passion that had buried deep down now igniting in every fiber of his being. His little unrequited crush on you had been built up for years.

It was why he had treated you so differently to other girls he had. Even Frank had noticed the difference and Karen on more than occasion had teased you about Billy liking you. But your friendship always meant more. Taking the leap of faith into dating despite not having sex yet was new for both of you it seemed.

Billy’s hands ran down your body to behind you and undid your bra. He pulled it forward gently and watched as your breasts became free. The dark of his pupils taking over his already darkened irises.

Over the next few minutes, his hands moved deftly to finish removing your and his own clothing but when he got your panties, he stopped just short and checked in with you again. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest as you answered him with a simple yes.

His eyes drank in every inch of skin that was exposed to him and as he eyed your moist center, his tongue poked out to lick his lips. “Can I taste you?” he muttered, his hands rubbing your thighs in soft strokes, coming closer to your core but never quite touching. His eyes searched yours for an answer.

You shook your head out of instinct and Billy’s hands moved up to your stomach, over your breasts as he hovered over you again. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured against your skin and your body arched up into him.

“You. I want-” you paused, moving to hold his head between your hands and making him look at you. “You.”

Billy dropped his hips and you felt his length pressing at your entrance. He stepped back only for a moment to reach down to grab a condom from his discarded pants. He rolled it down his erection and looked back up at you. He leaned over and ran a hand gently over your jaw. 

“Relax doll,” he cooed, watching your face as he reached between you to line himself up. He pressed into you and when your face winced, he stopped, looking for any sign or verbal cue that you wanted him to stop.

You looked at him and gave a soft nod to encourage him to go deeper. He pressed in again, only an inch or so, letting your walls flutter around his length, adjusting to the stretch. The pain would subside and you would nod to let him know to keep going. Another few moments and Billy was fully sheathed in you.

You could have sworn that your peak was already so near while he sat within you, peppering the skin of your breasts and collarbone with kisses. He was praising you softly, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were for him, how you were made for him.

When you felt your body finally relax around him, his kisses and words doing magic to your nervous self, you pulled your head up to kiss his forehead lightly. “Please, move,” you whimpered against the skin of his forehead. He lifted up, his arms on either side of you. He locked his hands with yours, holding your hands for leverage as he pulled out just enough to leave the tip of his cock within you.

When he slid back in slowly, you felt every inch of him splitting you open and the pain was now subsiding to pure pleasure as he rocked into you slowly over and over again. Your head flew back deeper into the mattress, your body arching into his and he could have sworn that the way you mewled his name could have been the end of him.

His mouth contorted as the pleasure built deep within him. It wasn’t just the familiar fire of being turned on to no end. This was something more, something… deeper. He released your hands and fell further onto you in slow motion, his hips writhing into yours, his cock hitting a bright white spot within you that you didn’t even know you had.

You cried out softly as he didn’t just fuck you. He was making love to you and that realization made tears prick at the corners of your eyes. His hands held your shoulders as he quickened his pace little by little until he was grunting and groaning and murmuring your name as he kissed you passionately, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste all of you at once.

You moaned against his lips and cried out as your walls finally clenched down around him, gripping in a vice lock. He moaned louder as he pushed through your high, chasing his own release. He murmured sweet praises again as he got himself closer, moving his hips more rapidly against you, hearing the sound of skin against skin.

You’re so beautiful. 

I love when you cum around my cock.

Can you give me another one, baby?

His need for you to find another release and the way he was talking was sending you to close to that point again already. It took a few more firm thrusts into you, hitting every delicious spot he could to bring you to pleasure that you were falling apart beneath him. A panting, sweating mess as your head rolled back and your toes curled, your hips pressing up into him.

A groan of your name and he pushed as far into you as he could, then stilled his movements as he filled the condom. His breathing was hot and heavy against your skin as he dropped his head down into your chest, letting you both calm down from your highs.

He lifted his head finally, his breath still a big ragged, placed a soft kiss to your skin before speaking. “You okay?”

You nodded before taking a shaky breath in. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” you said softly, your hands coming up to card through his soft hair that was damp with sweat. You pulled your head up to catch his eyes and he gave a warm smile.

“Do you regret anything?” 

“With you? Never.”

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

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[duskamethyst]

only mine.

a/n: my first bnha fic! im in love with the anime and i simp for so many characters aha

word count: 1.6k

genre: mature, implied nsfw (characters are aged up)

warnings: kidnapping, drugging, yandere behavior

pairing: yan!kaminari x gn!reader

summary: you and kaminari are fuck buddies. 

“man, can’t you just sleep over?” kaminari groans as he rolls onto his side, his elbow props himself up to watch you get off the bed to collect your clothes that were stripped and thrown onto the floor. 

“denki, no.” you say sternly while putting on your hoodie, missing the pouty look on the male’s face. 

“not even for one night?” he pleads. 

“nope!” you stick out your tongue teasingly before walking towards the door and turning the knob. “not ever.”

“sheesh, you’re such a hardass.” 

“call me whatever you want,” you roll your eyes as you step out and slowly close the door before peeking your head in again, “see ya.”

it has been months since you and kaminari been fucking on each other’s bed. it started with small talks before he (quickly-- after just a couple of times seeing each other)  began to openly flirt with you. kaminari was a fun a guy to be around with, kind of dumb and he looked like he meant no harm. you decided to entertain the fellow, shamelessly retaliate his flirtatious behavior (which was so much better than his game that it made him flustered often) until the both of you found yourselves together, bare and dripping with sweat in bed. 

you and kaminari formed a “pact” that it should remain as is, no strings attached and leaving the only label on it as fwb. being each others’ booty call is hell lot of fun, the sex is bomb and you don’t have to commit and have feelings for each other. you made it clear that this should remain a secret and that you both are free to fuck around with other people too but as much you’d like to believe that he understood it, kaminari never failed to constantly spam your phone with unnecessary texts about your well being, how your day went or asking if you wanted to go to shopping with him. it was a bit suffocating but if he was lucky enough, he’d get a short reply if not left on read.

you stick to your own belief that is to leave as soon as you’re done wrecking each other. no cuddles, no pillow talks or whatever those cheesy things couples normally do because the more time you spend together, there would be no doubt that one of you would start to catch feelings and it’s the last thing you want to have right now. the longest that you would stay at his place was only to take a quick shower after doing the deed, but not before having him almost begging to come in with you.

still, that doesn’t stop the male to often ask you to hang out and stay with him after a couple of hours together. you had to constantly remind him how this whole thing works but sometimes you could still see how he was burning holes behind other people who he thought was looking at you for too long or making you laugh too much and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he was taking this differently from you. whenever you confronted him about it, he’d get extremely defensive about his behavior and said you were just imagining it or that he was joking. not wanting to argue any further, you’d often leave it at that.

hanging around with the guys is when his little antics gets worse. kirishima often invites the crew to his place to play video games and he always manages to find a way to lay a finger on you or openly flirts with you. he’d usually make sure that he is the one that gets to sit next to you or purposely hangs an arm protectively around your shoulders as he casually speaks to the others-- which earns the both of you some weird looks. kaminari notices it and he lives for it. it makes him even prouder to be able to claim you in some sort of way.

“been kinda wondering-- you guys are fucking each other or something?” sero suddenly questions while his eyes are glued to the screen in desperation of beating bakugou in the racing game.

“hell ye- OUCH!” you yank your elbow on kaminari’s side to cut him off.

“who the hell would?” you quickly reply, earning some laughs from the other males present. 

“then, you’re free after this?” he turns his head to wink at you, giving a small room of opportunity for bakugou to slip through sero’s car and eventually finish the whole two laps. 

the blonde male grunts and hits sero’s head with his controller, “fucking idiot! you didn’t even take this seriously! kirishima! you’re next!”

“well, someone’s bound to take care of that bump on your head now, huh?” you tease, and sero is one to quickly catch on to that as a wide grin spreads across his face. 

“dude, i owe you one!” he chuckles and lightly taps on bakugou’s shoulder. 

“i should’ve kicked you in the balls.” he grumbles, finger expertly pushing one of the joysticks as he chooses his preferred sports car for the next race.

the night goes on as usual, each of you taking turns on the racing game that bakugou insists on only playing for the rest of the night which none of you dared to say otherwise. everyone has their shares of laughs, you think-- missing the scowl on kaminari’s face whenever you choose to only spare him your half-assed attention while sero shows you his collection of memes on his phone. it’s probably mean of him to think how sero looks like a fucking simp that has to impress you in order to woo you for the night but he couldn’t care less. he knows you best-- knows how you do things your way and seeing you “subtly” being flirtatious right in front of his face angers him to no end. 

you’re acting like it, like a... what was it again? a whore? it has been at the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t dare to say it. he feels bad enough to even think about you that way and know that he shouldn’t since you both are in this stupid “relationship” that people use as an excuse just to hop from one dick or pussy to another because they’re too “afraid” of or don’t want any commitments or whatever. kaminari gets the idea, he’s not that dense but it’s unfair how he can’t bring himself to do things like you-- not when he’s already catching feelings this quick.

for the sake of not wanting to ruin the night nor the only thing that binds you to him, he chooses to keep his cool until you guys part ways. he doesn’t even realize how hard he’s clenching his fists when he finds out that you left with sero while he’s gone for a bathroom break. 

— come over tonight? ;-)

a week has passed since that night. you notice that kaminari haven’t been constantly flooding your inbox like he used to and it has been the least of your worries. in fact, you enjoyed it. you had your time being around other people more without having them to think that he’s a threat to them and he was less touchy than he used to be. you have no clue about the reason for his change in attitude and you couldn’t find the reason to ponder about it anyways.

he comes over as asked, an activity that is far from foreign for the both of you. kaminari happily shows you the bottle of booze from his bag as he enters your home-- neither of you has to say it, you both know that you’re going to have mindless, drunk sex tonight. 

“don’t worry, i’ll make sure to sleep on the couch.” he reassures, pouring the liquor into two glasses in your kitchen as you sit down lazily on the couch. 

“you better be,” you reply, going through the movies available on netflix from the tv screen. “you can choose what you wanna watch.”

kaminari walks over and offers you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you. he goes through the movies before choosing one, sipping on his drink and glancing towards you through the corner of his eyes once in a while. he can’t help but to suppress a smile through his glass when he catches you take a gulp and your face squirm at the bitter taste. 

“it’s so strong.” you mumble after a few more sips and a few minutes into the movie that you are trying to pay attention to. you believe that your alcohol tolerance isn’t that bad but the way those few sips are already making your head spin instead of the familiar high that should succumb your mind by now.

“for real? i think you’re just imagining it.” he replies coyly as his eyes bore through the screen.

“i’m not--” the spinning starts to become unbearable and your eyelids are getting heavy so you quickly lay your head down and close your eyes on the couch in an attempt to soothe it down before kaminari reaches to rub smooth circles on your head.

“shh, do you wanna puke?” his voice is too calm despite the situation. knowing him, he’d be absolutely frantic when things go wrong. you try to open your eyes, but the lights do nothing but cruelly inflict the pain even more. 

“no.. i just-- carry me to bed..?” you whine as you welcome the comfort he’s offering.

kaminari just watches you as you slowly drift into a deep slumber, your chest heaving up and down as you breathe. he calls your name a few times to test the waters before he finally lets out a sinister chuckle and hovers over your body to kiss your cheek.

“poor baby. don’t worry, i’ll bring you somewhere nicer.” he whispers as he gazes adoringly at your unlively state. so vulnerable. 

“then i can have you all to myself.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Love Above All

Request: Please could you do a Alex Danvers x reader. Where reader is a kryptonian like Kara and they are dating when Alex gets mind control by Astra’s husband (my minds gone blank at his name) and Alex ends up hurting reader quite badly and feels really bad when she wakes up from being mind controlled. Fluff ending? Thank you 💕 Hey for the supergirl request, the reader could be a friend of Karas came to earth a little bit after Kara maybe also got stuck in the phantom zone. 💕 ~ Anon

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Y/H/N = Your Hero Name

Your parents sent you in a pod to protect your bother, but you both ended up on the Phantom Zone, frozen in time. You crashed on earth only a year after your best friend, Kara, did, but you still have not seen your brother. Years had passed and you had moved to National City where you started your job as a junior photographer at CatCo. A few months later a quirky blonde girl was hired as Cats assistant. Who turned out to be Kara. Now, she’s Supergirl, and you’re her partner, Y/H/N the two of you work double jobs, CatCo, and the DEO. And your beautiful girlfriend is Kara’s sister, Alex.

You were hanging out at your apartment when all of a sudden you heard, what sounded like an army, of footsteps outside. You looked outside of your apartment door and window to see people marching like mindless drones. Before you could even think, you got dressed in your costume and head straight out to find Kara. You finally found her at Catco, in her Supergirl identity standing next to Cat Grant.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask.

“It’s my uncle, Non. He activated this program called Myriad. It’s basically a mind control program,” Kara explains.

“So it’s just us then,” You respond.

“And me,” Cat says from next to us.

“Wait...why weren’t you affected?” You ask.

“Who knows,” Cat says.

“And why weren’t you?” Kara asks you.

“Not a clue,” You respond.

A few hours pass as we try to figure out what’s going on. After Non threatened your friends and had them fall off the building Kara decided to call Alex.

“Kara? Are you alright?” Alex asks.

“I’m fine,” Kara says.

“You’re lying,” Alex says.

“Yes. Did you reach Cadmus? Did you and Hank find your dad?” Kara asks.

“We were on our way there until we heard about all this,” Alex says.

“Where are you now?” Kara asks.

“At mom’s,” Alex says.

“Stay there. If you come to National City Myriad will take over you too,” Kara says.

“There’s no way I’m leaving you there by yourself,” Alex says.

“She’s not alone. She has me...and Ms. Grant,” You say.

“Y/N? Thank god you’re ok. But why wasn’t Cat Affected?” Alex asks.

“Maxwell Lord protected her and himself,” You say explaining the interaction from earlier.

“Of course he did. Kara and Y/N we never know when we can trust him,” Alex says.

“Yeah, well...we don’t really have a choice right now. You don’t know what it’s like here. It’s our only option. I love you, Alex,” You say.

“I love you too, Alex,” Kara says before hanging up.

You Max, Cat, and Kara look for answers to figure out what to do. Cat comes up with the idea to send a signal out to possibly stop Myriad. As you all were setting up the system, you hear a noise from outside.

“Stay here,” You say. You head outside as Kara stays behind in case there are others. As you walk around the building, you see Alex walking towards you in some green glowing suit. “Alex? What are you doing here? We told you not to come,” You say.

“I warned you what would happen if you worked against me,” Alex says catching you off guard. That didn’t sound like your girlfriend at all. “I found your ultimate opponent. One that knows your every weakness,” Alex says.

“No!” You say realizing Non got a hold of her. “I’m not doing this. I am not going to fight my girlfriend. Did you hear that, Non? If you want to fight us, come out here and do it yourself. I nor Supergirl are not gonna hurt her,” You say.

“You have no choice. Kill Alex Danvers or let her kill you. Either way...you lose,” Alex says. “Recognize this?” Alex asks pulling a Kryptonite sword out. “It’s the same sword your girlfriend used to kill Astra. It’s almost justice,” Alex says.

“Alex, please wake up,” You say.

“She can’t hear you,” Alex says.

“Revenge won’t bring Astra back,” You say.

“I don’t want to bring her back. I want you and Supergirl to join her,” Alex says before running towards you. 

You run towards her as well but without a plan. She swipes the blade against your stomach leaving a mark. You see as she turns around to shoot a Kryptonite bullet at you, but you just barely avoid it flying up. You go back down to try and get her to wake up. 

“Alex. I know you’re still in there. I know you would never hurt me. Wake up!” You say holding her back.

“You left me no choice,” Alex says. 

You avoid her every attack while also unsure of how to stop her without hurting her. You grab a piece of train railing and try to wrap it around her but she blasts you with some kind of Kryptonite mist, blowing you back. She comes at you with the sword, you try to kick it out of her hands but she ends up cutting your leg. You fall to the ground, taking in the pain. At the same time, she takes the sword and plunges it through your right thigh, and takes it out. At this point, you could barely stand and had no other plans.

“When you and Supergirl reunited with Astra in the light of Rao, you tell her, her wishes have all come true,” Alex says. She plunges the sword towards you as you sit looking up at her. With no other plan, you grab the sword with both hands and hold her off. The blade cuts through your hand as she slowly makes her way towards your heart.

“Alex!” You hear Kara yell. Alex doesn’t let up from her blade. “Stop! This isn’t you,” Kara says.

“I was waiting until you’d come out. But, now you’ll have to watch your sister kill her beloved before she kills you,” Alex says.

“Alex, you can beat this. I know you can. You would never ever hurt Y/N. You would never hurt me. You are Alex Danvers and nothing on earth can change that. Come back to us. Please. You’re strong, you can do it,” Kara says.

“Kara?” Alex says seeming to break her mind control, tossing the sword, and turning off the kryptonite suit. “Oh my god, Y/N! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you,” Alex rants cupping your face.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I know that wasn’t you,” You say looking at your bloodied hands and kissing Alex. Alex and Kara quickly go to help you up.

“I’m so sorry,” Alex kept repeating. 

They brought you back into the station as Hank and Alex’s mom shows up. They set up the broadcast for Kara to do her speech. Once everything had gone back to normal, you were brought back to the DEO to treat your wounds.

“I’m fine guys. I’ll heal. I don’t need any treatment,” You say as they lay you on the bed.

“Can you give us a moment,” Alex says. 

“Alex. I’m fine really. You don’t need to worry,” You say.

“No. It’s--It’s not that,” She says sitting next to you. “It should’ve never come to this. The moment I saw you. I should’ve snapped out of it. I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve never let myself hurt you,” She says.

“Alex. Myriad had taken over your mind, there was no way of knowing how to get anyone snap out of it. You know I know you would never hurt me. And most of all I love you and you love me. Nothing could ever change that, not even being at opposite ends of the universe. So can you please just stop being so sorry and stop worrying?” You say.

She chuckles, “Fine,” She says kissing you. Alex treats your wounds and waits for you to recover enough to go back to Catco. 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! I’m sorry if it kinda ends abruptly, I just wasn’t fully sure how to end it. Thanks for reading!

[siremasterlawrence]

Life Of Male Concubines - Tyler Mike Ray

Tyler 1 - 3

A timeless story in the world guy goes after guy, guy enslaves next door neighbor and a guy wins his dream man.

Every afternoon of every day my window is open the air flows in to my room circulating my body.

I do my very best to ignore him yet I can’t stop my eyes from landing on that ass of his yes.

I am a ass man so damn perfectly plump, and higher the mine for sure and even tighter then I can believe.

The man of my dreams home from work so tired, kicks off his shoes, sliding off his sock, and removing his clothes.

He plops on to his bed body laying straight over it like a blanket spread and place under tuck neatly in.

I dash down my stairs out of my house to his door kicking it open, my plan is about to be unfurled to him.

My cellphone removes out of my pocket all it takes is one second, the app pops open and I flick the switch.

The hypnotic spiral swirls out fading into the main page, I click the picture of my choice and I send it.

It’s a picture of him getting undressed in

a mindless state thanks to the flash of captured forever.

I brace my back to the wall,my head presses on the cold wall, and I await for the moving crew.

I hear a large truck drive down the block on to the side wall, parking inappropriately on his lawn.

They stop jumping on to the ground they are carrying a bright leather body bag head up the stairs.

They reach his room proudly I watch them pile on to him, they drag his body off of the bed.

They leather bags zipped drops open up to floor, they slide him in to the bag sealing him up, and they head out.

Tyler 4 - 6

“Time to begin the landscaping.”

“Let me dial the number and send.”

“It’s ringing”

“On our Masted”

“Excellent”

“Begin landscape protocol”

“Yyyyyeeeeeesssss”

“Operation activating”

“Name the process you like to initiate”

“Begin total mind wipe forever”

“Completely erasing his mind now”

“Commence the change at once”

“Mind wipe is done”

“Entering white space”

“As your command”

Tyler 7 - 9

The room vanishing out of existence forever for him nothing else but white space all is gone.

The empty room is all I can see standing in the mid space fill Tom walks in a strange state.

He can’t help stare at me this is my world I will create, I snap my finger with little resist in him.

Toms body is now a pedestal rising in to the sky a few feet at time he became a doll yet again.

His body in mid air spins with my fingers I begin a new process recreating him to my image.

My genius is on display a computer program on steroids, imaging if the world could see this.

If we could use the technology to edit any other people we choose for the right reason of course.

Imagine if we could erase all crime, evil

and injustice yet I don’t care to this is my weapon.

I will build a male harem that only others can dream, being years to their eyes oh how amazing that would be.

My focus returns to Tom transforming his body in to a massive mountain of muscles and sexiest body ever.

“This is life isn’t? You at my service, obeying my every whim, and obey.”

“Yes sire, my lord and Master”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“You are my everything”

“Shape my to your desire all that matters”

The end

[thiswasinevitableid]

1. Siren Indruck NSFW, Duck is hauling supplies for the small town of Kepler on a tiny boat. Due to dangerous storms, Duck takes a longer but safer and less traversed route. He doesn’t know he’ll be passing through a Siren’s territory. A siren who is looking for a strong and sturdy mate

Here you go!

Duck never tells anyone what he finds on the beach that day. 

He’s fourteen, looking for useful flotsam and jetsam tossed onto the sand by an ongoing storm. What he finds is an empty boat and a merman, silvery tail impaled with a spear in a piece of driftwood. Each time he tries to free himself, he winces and is unable to pull the weapon from his body. When he sees Duck, his red eyes widen and he bares sharp teeth in a hiss. 

“It’s okay” the boy kneels in the bloody sand, “I ain’t gonna hurt you. Or, uh, this’ll hurt for a sec, but it’ll be better than tryin to ease it out bit by bit.” He grabs the end of the fishing spear and pulls. The merman shrieks, quickly clamping his hands across his mouth as Duck pulls his handkerchief from his pocket to bandage the wound. 

“There, you should be able to-”

The creature is gone with a whip of his tail, sliding down the sand and into the waves. As Duck stands, a strange song floats from the foam for the briefest instant. A seasoned sailor can tell a siren from a normal mer on sight; Duck has never been to sea. It’s weeks later that he wonders what events resulted in the wounded siren and an empty boat. 

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

Any other day, Duck would put off this run until the black clouds no longer hung over the horizon. But the supply run last week didn’t come, so the isolated, coastal town of Kepler is running low on, among other things, the medicine needed to treat an illness spreading from house to house. He could put this off until tomorrow, but he won’t sleep well tonight if he does.

The boat loaded, he starts out to sea under unfriendly skies. Today is a day to follow the coastline and then circle Greenbriar Island to reach Kepler, rather than trying for a straight shot.  It’ll double his travel time, but it’s far safer in a storm and no one but a few locals know how to navigate it. Duck takes this route once or twice most years. This summer alone he’s had to take it six times, with today making a seventh. The abnormal number of storms weighs on the minds of coastal residents. Duck tries not to obsess over it, given that it’s solidly out of his control and there’s no use fussing over wind and rain; there’s only getting through them. 

Halfway through his journey, a rogue swell catches the underside of the boat and drags it along a rock, springing a leak in the hull. He ties off on a thin spire of stone, clambering onto a rock to try and repair the damage. It’s not a big leak, but it’ll be trouble if he lets it go. 

As he’s laying awkwardly with water lapping up his legs, a human head rises from the water a few feet from him. Silver hair, red eyes and, when it smiles, very sharp teeth. Harmless mermaids have teeth much like his own, which means he’s alone in the ocean with a fucking siren.

Duck’s learned many things since that day on the beach; how a song can paralyze a man better than poison, how the bite marks on the skin of certain bodies that wash ashore are called siren kisses

The siren begins swimming closer. Duck sighs, “If you’re gonna drown and eat me, can you do it on the way back?”

Red eyes blink, confused, but the siren stays where he is. 

“If I don’t make it to Kepler, lotta folks’ll get sick, some will even die. And I don’t think you got much use for medicine and canned food.”

The siren shakes his head. 

“Glad you understand.” Duck finishes his repairs under watchful eyes. At one point, the siren swims all the way to the rock Duck is perched on, resting his chin on his hands, as if enjoying the view. 

Duck scrambles back into the boat the moment he’s done, but no cold fingers try for his ankles and no splash announces something lunging upwards after him. A cautious glance as he starts the engine finds the siren sitting on the rock, silver-blue tail still half in the water. When he notices Duck looking, he waves. 

The rest of the journey goes as planned, the relief on folks faces when Duck docks worth the peril. When he reaches the siren’s territory on his return, no song tempts him. A lithe shape keeps pace with the boat, fin breaking the surface now and then. When he hits open water, the siren turns back, disappearing from view. 

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

There are sex dreams, and then there’s whatever the fuck Duck is having right now. Fingers stroke his hair, cling to his shoulders. Kisses coat his face and a voice whispers his name as the speaker offers themself to him again and again. He sees himself tangled with a man, face always just out of focus, who spreads his legs and lips so Duck can sink himself into the heat of his body. The dream is endless and he doesn’t care, doesn’t ever want to wake up. 

Saltwater in his lungs renders that desire useless. He snaps back to consciousness as another wave hits him; he’s up to his neck  in the cove below his house. 

“The fuck?” It’s only his footprints visible in the moonlight in the sand, so no one dumped him here. 

“Oh dear.”

“Jesus!” Duck stumbles back as glowing eyes peer around a rock. It’s the siren from yesterday, swimming purposefully as Duck wades backwards. 

“Look, uh, when I said I wanted you to wait to eat me, I wasn’t bein serious. Or, uh, I was, but I meant I didn’t want to be eaten ever, not just then. It was a, uh, a joke.”

“I am aware.” The siren stops as Duck topples on his ass in the shallow water, “and I am sorry. I, ah, I did not mean to lure you from your bed. I was not aware my mindless singing was enough to wake you. In most futures, you slept until dawn.”

“Uh huh, sure, because sirens are known to just serenade folks without wanting to drown ‘em.” 

“We do it more often than you might think.” The siren sighs, “I came here to keep you safe, and succeeded only in making you afraid.”

Duck, having scooted inelegantly onto dry land, watches the tan upper body of the siren sag. It’s awkward, a word not associated with this kind of mer. That suggests he’s telling the truth. 

“You gonna tell me why you’re playin watchdog at my house?” 

The siren chirps, intrigued, “In all but one future you told me to go away.”

“That’d just leave me with more questions. And so far, you ain’t done anythin other’n watch me; if you say this was an accident, I’m willin to hear you out.”

“Wonderful!” The siren claps his hands together and the tip of his tail flips out of the water. Then he clears his throat and recites, “I am known as Indrid Cold. As you noticed, I am a siren. I am also a gifted seer, artist, and lifeguard when humans are unconscious and thus will not try to kill me for rescuing them. I am an excellent fisher, and well-liked and/or feared by the larger creatures of this coastline. This is why I think I would be an excellent mate.”

“O-kay. Did you call me out here to practice your personals ad?” Duck smirks, charmed by Indrids earnest tone.

“This is not practice. I did a great deal of that earlier today. This is my formal declaration that I would very much like you to be my mate.”

“Ma--hold on.” The images from his near-fatal dream return, “were you singin’ to hit on me?”

Indrid crosses his arms, “For the last time, that song was not for you. It was about you, because I was daydreaming and my formless melody unintentionally conveyed the contents of said daydream into your mind.”

“So everythin in it, all that wild fuckin stuff, that’s stuff you wanna do with me?”

A nod, accompanied by a flash of white light under the water. 

“Why?”

“Because you are strong, and handsome, and capable on the water. I watched your futures yesterday and today and saw you are kind as well, well-liked by other humans but a little lonely at night. You are very nice to that small land-otter that lives in your house.”

“You mean the cat?”

“That’s the word! Yes, you are nice to your cat. You are not brash or cruel, and you look so very nice without a shirt. I...I like you, Duck. You are everything I want in a mate.”

“Feel like I might be missin’ some gills and fins.” He jokes to cover the fact he’s scanning his mind and body for the same dreamy lull he felt during the song. What he finds in it’s place is his ego purring from praise and wondering exactly what a siren would do for his mate.

“There is no rule that says I must choose only my own kind for such activities. I, ah, I know it is strange, given how little we know of each other, but I thought that, ah, since humans will have casual sex with each other maybe we could, or, ah, that is…” He’s watching Duck with such unconcealed hope that the human almost joins him in the water.

“Indrid, I’m real flattered. But I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t point out this feels like a fuckin trap. Pretty easy for you to drag me to my death once we’re, uh, in the middle of things. Not that I’m sayin you would.” He adds when the sirens smile dims. 

“A sensible concern. May I join you on land for a moment? There is something I want to show you.”

Duck pats the sand beside him, eyes following the ripples of Indrid’s tail as he swims, slithers, and slides onto the beach. It reminds Duck of an oarfish, though when Indrid spies him looking the scales flash deep purple. 

“Look there” Indrid points toward the end of the silver ribbon of scales; a round, white scar stares up at Duck. The details of a day over two decades in the past return to him.

“You’re the siren I found when I was a kid.”

“Indeed. I remember you by your eyes, though your face has some echoes of that day in it’s curves. You saved my life, showed me mercy when I expected none. Sirens do not forget a favor, and we do not kill those who once spared us. I will never harm you, even if you turn me away tonight. You will be safe, whether that is in my arms or merely in my territory.”

Duck avoids the stranger sides of life by the sea, citing a lifelong incompatibility with the weird. Turns out all he needed to find his exception to that rule is a handsome siren looking at him like he set the tides in motion. 

The human runs a finger up the sirens tail, sparks of purple and pale blue light igniting in it’s wake. 

“Didn’t know y’all changed colors.” He pets Indrid’s hip and the whole tail lights up this time. 

“I am a deep-sea siren by birth, we use light to communicate emotions.”

“Mind, uh, loopin me in on the conversation?”

“Purple means desire. It’s a common color in mating displays.” Indrid watches Duck’s hand  glide along his scales, and a burst of pale blue reflects across their faces. 

“And that one?”

“Submission.” Indrid murmurs, “it is, ah, not the most desirable color to show. My kind value strength and power; enjoying the opposite is an invitation to mockery.” The siren’s eyes stay downcast, even when Duck smooths silver hair from his face.

“Now, I like to joke as much as the next fella, but that don’t seem like somethin to tease about.”

“No?” Indrid’s gaze flicks onto Duck the instant before the man straddles him. Duck doesn’t even have to push him onto his back; he goes instantly, hands flat on the sand and tail twitching excitedly in the shallows. 

“No. Seems to me a sweet thing like you oughta be takin care of.” 

Indrid snickers, “That is not usually an adjective one uses for meAHahnn” he arches as Duck tugs his hair.

“Let’s get one thing straight, sugar; I decide what you get called. I wanna call you the most perfect creature in the sea, I will. And if I wanna call you a needy little mer who’s good for nothin but gettin fucked into the sand, you’re gonna nod and say ‘yes.’ Understood?”

The blue light flashing up his tail brightens, “Y-yes but, but why do you call me sugar? That is a food.”

Duck giggles, leans down to brush their noses together, “It’s a nickname, call you it because you’re sweet and I can’t wait to get my fill of you.”

“Ohhhh, I see.” 

“You wanna see somethin else?”

“Very much soOH, oh goodness.” Indrid gasps as Duck forces his gaze towards his cock attempting to free itself from his boxers. He grinds on the supple muscle of his tail to take the pressure off, chuckles when the siren whines and tries to kiss his chest. 

“Since you’re the only siren I’d ever even consider fuckin-” Duck pauses as Indrid moans loudly, digging his fingers into the sand, “you gotta show me how to go about it.”

“If, if you just continue as you are a little higher upyes, yes right there” He rolls his hips, purrs with such a blissful expression that Duck is powerless to do anything but kiss him. His affection grows when he notices Indrid clearly restraining his kisses so as not to catch Duck’s mouth or tongue with his sharp teeth. The last guy he fucked shoved his tongue down his throat without any build-up or finesse, and now all he can think is if only Indrid had made his feelings know sooner, Duck could have done away with shitty human dates and had an obedient, eager mer instead. 

“Mmmmm” Indrid licks his lips, runs his fingers up Duck’s sides, “kissing is nice. It is not something sirens often indulge in, so my chances to do it are few and far between.”

“Ain’t that a shame” Duck kisses the corners of his mouth, “lips like these were made to be kissed sore.”

Indrid purrs, wiggling his tail, and Duck looks down to see a slit opening where his clothed cock has been rubbing. 

“Huh. Kinda figured you had-”

“-I have both this and an appendage below it much like your own.”

“Handy.” Duck, in no mood to climb off the purring, otherworldly man, eases the waistband of his damp boxers just under his balls. 

“This, uh, this ain’t gonna actually create a, I mean, I don’t wanna accidentally-”

“Nono, there is no chance of procreation”

“And you’ll be okay with so little of you in the water?”

“Yesyes I will be fine.” Indrid tugs at his hips, bucks his own into the air in frustration. 

“Just checkin’ oh, oh fuck” Indrid is tight and ridged around his dick as it slides in, “fuckin christ, no wonder sailors’ll crash into rocks at the offerin of fuckin a siren, wait, fuck, that was probably rude.”

“I will let it slide” Indrid teases, the end of his tail curling around Duck’s left ankle, “on account of your body is so lovely I would beach myself and die gasping on your doorstep for a chance to touch it.”

“No need for that. All you gotta do is wait here like a good little mer and I’ll fuck you as much as you want.” The slit pulses as Duck slowly fucks in and out, and he knows he’ll have to throw out all his fleshlights after this because nothing will ever compare to the deliciously alien feeling of Indrid around his dick. 

“Do, do not joke about such things.” Indrid whimpers, clinging to his shoulders.

“I ain’t. You wanted a mate, right?”

“Yes, you, so very badly.”

“Well, you got one, and you feel so goddamn good on my cock I ain’t inclined to let you swim off and be someone else’s.”

“I do not want to, I only want you, please, please let me stay.”

Duck stills his hims and the siren writhes as he leans down. The human cups his cheek, “I want you to stay, ‘Drid. I wanna get to know you. Long as you promise you ain’t gonna fuck me unless you want to, and not because you’re scared I’ll turn you loose.”

“I promise.” Indrid initiates the kiss this time, purring when Duck takes his time kissing back. 

“Good. Now that we got that cleared up” Duck sits up, “be a good mate and take what I give you.” He fucks in as hard as he dares, dives back down to kiss Indrid’s lips and throat as the mer’s cock emerges. Duck finds he can grind his ass along the twisting shaft at the same time he drives his own into Indrid’s body, resulting in a wail of pleasure and teeth sinking into his shoulder. 

“Fuck!”

“Sorry!” Indrid squeaks, hiding his face in Duck’s neck, “it, it is a reflex-”

Duck yanks his head back to his shoulder, near the first mark, and holds it down, “Do it again.”

Indrid trills and pain lights up Duck’s body, the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure coursing through him with each roll of their bodies. The siren chirps and moans, nips his arms and ears, slides his tail along his legs as his cock pumps frantically against his ass.

“That’s it sweet thing, cum for me while I fuck you. Show me just what my mate is for.” Duck bites Indrid’s neck and cum splatters the backs of his thighs as Indrid’s repetitions of his name drown out the noise of the waves.  Duck’s orgasm follows fast, sweeps through him like the crescendo of a song carried on the night air. 

Duck stays buried in him well after he’s finished, mind already conjuring images of tying Indrid down in shallow water and keeping his cock warm all day.

“Duck?”

“Yeah, sugar?” 

“I, ah, I need to get back in the water.”

“Oh shit, yeah, sure.” He pulls out, tosses his sea-soaked boxers up the beach as Indrid slides into the sea. Duck wades in, stopping where it’s waist deep as the siren swims lazily circles around him. 

“Such a perfect mate.”

“Glad you still think so.”

Indrid curls up to him, rubbing their cheeks together, “Thank you for indulging me. Do...do you wish me to come back tomorrow? Or to stay tonight? There are no other mers between here and my territory, so there is no reason I cannot count this stretch as mine.”

Duck kisses one of the hickeys blooming on tan skin, “How’s about you stay the night. We got some things to talk about. And, if you’re real good, I might let you fuck me when we’re done.”

Indrid grins, “My dearest one, I believe we have a deal.”

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

Nowadays, if you ever go near Kepler and the surrounding islands, you may hear people talk about Duck Newton, beloved native son, skilled park ranger, and the only man receive siren kisses and live to tell the tale. 

[eventid1ngs]

[ F e v e r . ]

A Post-Calamity Zelink Oneshot

Rating: T

Word count: 2500

Zelda blew out a breath that puffed her cheeks. She felt flushed and uncomfortable, and frankly, quite over the whole situation if she was being honest with herself. It hadn’t taken her long to decide that the Eldin Region, in its entirety, was her least favorite amongst the whole kingdom. At least the Gerudo’s persistent hot weather was of a drier character; the climate closer to Death Mountain was dreadfully humid and the princess was not enjoying it at all.

Quickly, she changed out of her travelling clothes and into more comfortable clothing suitable for sleeping. She did not have the energy to walk to the bathhouses to change, and Link had gone not too long ago to bathe, so Zelda took the liberty to change within the current privacy of their room at the Foothill Stable Inn.

Afterwards she lay on her side of the bed (Following a week or two of debilitating nightmares, Link had agreed to sleep nearer to her, for both her protection and her comfort. She hadn’t had a nightmare since), focusing on doing as little as possible so as to avoid using the energy she felt she didn’t have due to the heat. Rather idly, she scrolled through the Hyrule Compendium on the Sheikah slate, making mental notes of the missing entries.

Even breathing felt like a chore. Zelda missed the comforts of more temperate climates and looked forward to leaving the next morning now that her and the knight’s work there with the Gorons was complete.

A half hour or so passed before Link returned. Zelda jumped when the door opened, having been so absorbed in her reading material. Her eyes met the knight’s as he entered. He nodded to her and offered a small smile before closing the door behind him and motioning towards the mirror by the dresser. He wore a clean white shirt and short pants. His wild hair was wet from his bath.

Zelda continued to read as Link brushed his hair into a duly ponytail. He approached the bed.

“Will you be up for a while longer?” he asked.

“Yes, I would like to finish this book. I am almost at the end. It is quite fascinating! Did you know that…” But Link had stopped listening, not out of any disrespect but because of sheer exhaustion; that fight with the hinox brute earlier had left him more tired than he realized. As Zelda discussed the contents of her book, Link moved the candle from the nightstand on his side of the bed to the one on Zelda’s.

“...Amazing. There are so many things to learn about this Goddess-forsaken region.” The princess finally took a break from talking.

Her knight chuckled. “Goddess-forsaken?”

“I must admit to you, Link, that I have been most uncomfortable since our arrival here.” she explained, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. “Tease me if you must, but I am not at all accustomed to this climate and it does not suit me in the slightest.”

The other refrained from the teasing. “Can I do anything to make you more comfortable, princess? I could fetch you a cooling elixir.”

Zelda wanted to accept the offer, but shook her head. “No, I will be alright. You need your rest. I will be quiet now.”

“Being of service to you is not a bother--”

“Thank you.”

“...Do you need anything else, princess?”

“No. Thank you, Link.”

He nodded and proceeded to lie down, on top of the covers. His left hand rested on his stomach and the other above his head on the pillow. His typical sleeping position.

“Goodnight, princess.” he muttered, his eyes already closed.

“Goodnight, Link.”

Sometime later, after Zelda had finished her book, she sat it down on the nightstand and lay down on her side, facing the candle. She watched the flickering flame for a long, long while.

It was too hot. Too humid. And for the life of her, the princess was unable to fall asleep. She turned over, facing her knight. A weird sense of desperation came over her that she would not sleep at all that night and that have a terrible day tomorrow, and she wanted to wake Link so he could go and acquire a sleep tonic for her. But she couldn’t. She wouldn't.

So she just stared at Link, half comforted by the sight of him sleeping so soundly, half incredibly envious of the fact that he had already been sleeping for two or three hours and she hadn’t slept a wink.

Then she felt awkward, watching him like that.

Was it proper that she and Link shared a bed, if only to sleep? It hadn’t even crossed her mind before. She had been so immensely relieved to be cured of her nightmares that she hadn’t considered anything else. Besides, most evenings, both Link and Zelda were too exhausted from the various activities of the day to let their minds wander where they, perhaps, should not be. Everything was mechanical. And if otherwise, the two merely went over the next day’s plan on the Sheikah slate until they were too tired to continue.

The princess shuddered at the thought of her father finding out about the bedsharing, although, surely he knew somehow, from his place in the afterlife. It was a somewhat harrowing thought that Zelda pushed from her mind immediately.

But tonight, on account of her sleeplessness, her thoughts went somewhere it had only dared to graze over before.

She watched the slow rise and fall of the knight’s chest as he breathed. He snored softly, which was followed by a sort of contented moan that caused something in Zelda’s insides to stir. She had no explanation for that strange feeling, at the time.

She sighed. He is enjoying his sleep. Blessed be the Goddesses.

Suddenly, Link woke, and stared at Zelda with a confused expression and sleep-smeared eyes.

“...Princess? Are you alright?”

Zelda hesitated.

“What is wrong?”

“The mere fact that I bathed just a few hours ago and I already feel that I need to bathe again.”

Link scratched at his hair. His cheeks were visibly flushed. “It is hot in here.” he agreed, “I’ll open a window. Maybe some air flow will help.” He got up and did so. Before returning he acquired a looser, short sleeve shirt from his pack to replace the one he was wearing. He quickly switched the shirts with his back facing Zelda. She hadn’t been looking until one of his shoulder blades glinted in the candlelight and she glanced over a mere second too late to see anything else.

Did she want to see anything else? The sudden notion puzzled her.

When he turned, the two locked eyes.

“I’m sorry that you’re so uncomfortable, princess.” he said, approaching again. “Are you sure there isn't anything else that I can do to help?” He couldn’t stop the yawn that followed his offer.

“I just can’t sleep. Perhaps I will just try again tomorrow night when we’re back in Necluda.” She meant for this to be a joke but it came out more bitter than she had intended.

Link stared at her for a moment, thinking, before sitting crossed-legged on the bed and reaching for the Sheikah slate. It had been resting against the footboard. The bed dipped as the knight sat down and the princess had to readjust her own sitting position.

“...What are you doing?” she asked, curiously.

“Making note of something I just thought of.” was his answer. Zelda didn’t feel like prodding him to tell her what that something was, so she laid back down instead, feeling no less irritated. Link typed on the slate for less than a minute before setting it back down where had been and then lying down. He finally noticed Zelda glaring at him.

“What?”

“...Nothing.”

He wasn’t convinced, and they didn’t break eye contact. Finally, the princess’ expression softened.

“I was just thinking, Link…” she said quietly. “...and, please, be honest with me--”

“I’m always honest with you, princess.”

She paused, taken aback that he had interrupted her. He had never done that before. “...Just for the sake of my curiosity… Have you ever thought about… I mean… Have you ever wondered what we… If we…”

“Yes.”

“I...what?”

“Of course I have, princess. I’m not dense.”

“I… I was not at all suggesting that you were! I’m just genuinely curious…” Zelda pressed her lips together. She hardly understood these words that were, frivolously, escaping her lips with her voice. And yet, somehow, Link understood? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Our questions will find their answers in due time, princess.”

“I know that. I have always been rather impatient, though, and I can’t help but wonder... But I apologize for this silly conversation. Please, go back to sleep. I have said too much.”

The moment of silence that followed, without any sort of closure from either party, proved to be far more uncomfortable than the hot weather.

The princess shut her eyes, feeling as if she had done something awful, and it took considerable effort on her part not to start crying. A line had been crossed and she wished that she could erase the past five minutes.

But Link moved beside her and before she had a chance to look at him and assess the situation, she felt his lips on hers.

It was soft.

Gentle.

Earnest.

Still, Zelda gasped from surprise. In doing so she opened her mouth slightly, which her knight took as an invitation.

Something was being set free. It was raw, unadulterated...wild. Something, perhaps, that had been waiting over a hundred years to come to the surface, having lay dormant all that time.

“Link, wait-- I-- There is so much more-- that I need to say--” But he was stealing away her breaths, and the words stopped materializing in her brain.

“Later.” he said. His lower lip dragged up her chin and briefly cupped hers before resuming the kiss.

“Oh-- I--”

He paused and they stared at each other for a few seconds. “...Do you want me to stop?”

“I… No--”

So he didn’t. Zelda sighed out the last bit of her resolve and allowed her mind to drift away amongst the sea of her inner consciousness.

His hands were on her; one on her hip and the other supporting her behind her back. She put her hands on either side of his face, daring to touch him for the first time. Their kisses became less tableau and more mindless; a feverish tangle of swollen lips and forceful breaths. They fell to the bed eventually and his mouth travelled from hers to along her jaw and then her ear.

She felt his warmth--impassionate and searing--seeping out from him, through his clothes and then through hers before entering her through the very pores of her skin.

...If she had been hot before, she was on fire now, having become one with the very pools of flame that flowed under the Great Eldin Bridge.

Link nuzzled against her neck, somehow finding new places to plant more kisses. Zelda felt that if this continued for much longer, she would surely implode.

“...We should stop…..” he said, his voice low near her ear. His breathing had syncopated with hers.

“Then stop...” was her response. It sounded like a dare.

“...Do you want me to stop, princess?”

The word princess made Zelda open her eyes. She stared at the textured beige ceiling above them as she tried to catch her breath. “...I’m afraid, Sir Link...that I simply don’t have the courage...to answer that question...as we are, now...”

At that, he retreated, removing his limbs from hers carefully. Zelda’s skin mourned the loss of his touch. She searched for his face but he refused to meet her eyes. She watched him swallow, hard. Her brain rebooted and had begun to replay what had just occurred over again in her mind like a slideshow. What...was happening? The princess tried to make logical sense of this new onset of feelings and emotions, but her body betrayed her with exhaustion and a yearning ache for more of his kisses.

“I’m sorry. That should not have happened.” Link said, finally, swallowing his breaths in vain attempt to calm himself down. “It is not my place to initiate such things. I’m ashamed of my behavior."

“But, Link--”

“I can’t share a bed with you anymore, princess. Please understand me. I… can’t.”

Zelda panicked, remembering the nightmares. “You can, and you must. Please! I need you to. You know this.”

He made no response. Instead, he got up with a vague gesture of distress.

“Wait--”

“I just need a few minutes to myself, princess. Please excuse me.”

Zelda nodded her permission and Link put on his cloak and boots before heading out into the night alone.

“It’s fine.” she reassured, a bit later, after he had returned.

“No. You barely opened a door and I shoved myself across the threshold. That is not fine, princess.”

“Maybe I wanted--” Zelda began, but she stilled her tongue.

Link stared, not realizing that he was holding his breath.

The princess swallowed her previous sentence. “...It’s my fault, then. For opening the door.” she said instead, feeling her heart sink, meanwhile.

That was not what her knight wanted to hear, either, and it was obvious in his expression.

“At any rate, I’m sorry...” he said, too late.

The princess was exasperated. The lack of sleep was making her eye sockets hurt. “Please don’t apologize for--”

“..For disturbing the peace between us.”

“--something that I started.” They had both spoken at the same time. There was a long, pregnant pause. It was then that they both realized that neither would be the same from that night on. Later that became a terrifying though exciting prospect; a new adventure to embark upon and a new world to explore but in that moment, it felt like both of them had lost something very precious and they felt its sudden absence very, very keenly, in their own ways.

“Link, let’s forget about this for right now. I am so very tired and I know that you are, too.” She patted his vacant spot on the bed. “Come and sleep.”

“I shouldn’t--”

“Come and sleep.” she repeated. It wasn’t a request.

He swallowed again. “Yes, princess.” He rejoined her on the bed, maintaining distance. They both lay down on their backs, both staring at the ceiling.

Zelda reached out and took Link’s hand. “I trust you, you understand that, right?” she said quietly. Her eyes were closed. “It is myself whom I do not trust just yet.”

“I understand.”

“Goodnight, Link.”

“Goodnight, princess.”

The night finally consumed the two--the Princess of Hyrule and her appointed knight--and they slept peacefully, long into the morning.

END.

[themilky-way]

as the hours pass {loki odinson}

gif credit: littlemisssyreid

pairing: loki odinson x fem!reader (might be considered gender neutral, though)

summary: he afraid of what he feels, so he does the only the thing he knows how to do: lie. based on this ask.

warnings: super shitty angst lol cuz it was 9 pm and my brain cells were FRIED. i think that’s it?? fluff at the end tho so we good 

author’s note: this took me a whole mf week to write which isn’t that bad but i have no time now and it’s kinda scary. yolo tho lol 

----------

when tony had initially proposed a weekly movie night for the entire team, not a single person would’ve imagined anything like this. a large projector had taken the place of the regular flatscreen television, consequently lining up in all the four corners of the penthouse windows. couches and reclining chairs compiled in a large circle instead of being adequately spread out amongst the common room, and they’d all been filled by at least one avenger. to those wishing to participate, jobs and duties had been assigned the week prior, the list ranging from making popcorn to dimming the lights. it was organized-sophisticated, in a way-how it had all been brought about, and to say the majority of the residents living in tony’s multi billionaire penthouse were surprised was quite the understatement. 

over the course of a few weeks, everything began falling into place. reminders didn’t need to be set anymore, and the designated tasks weren’t viewed as chores. natasha made sure to pop three full bags of delicious kernels- ensuring thor’s bowl had just enough butter to lick his fingers clean when he finished-while steve arranged a variety of pillows and blankets around the seating space. soon enough, fading shades of purple would ignite the obscurity of the living room-all due to the led lights binded to the borders of its ceiling-and either a horror or comedy film would commence. 

in such a manner, your spot could always be found on the same peculiar couch, next to the same peculiar individual. god, at that. to literally go to hell and back, to get placed in a home that wasn’t his home with people who wanted his head wasn’t particularly an easy life to lead. he wasn’t a man of sentiment, either, nor one who engaged in communal activities, so you took your part as a good samaritan and kept him company. the seat next to loki had been unreserved, with not even thor to take its place, and you shuffled away from a very frightened wanda to settle beside him. he'd been neutral, annoyed perhaps. if a stranger came to sit next to you out of the blue, wouldn’t you be, too? 

“mind if i sit here?” a mild pause signaled a response, and the shrug of his shoulders gave it away. “i’m not really enjoying the movie, and the space looked kinda cozy,” you added. 

after you had thoroughly felt the soft cushion of the seat and all its comfort, it was rather difficult to stray away from it. every friday evening, the striped bedding of the couch awaited your presence, and a pillow of an identical design lay by the armrest. loki always got there first, a bowl of ice containing two ice cream bars in his grasp, and if the belief that he had ever been remotely inconsiderate damaged your reasoning, the chocolate chip cookie he gifted you at the start of every night proved you wrong. 

if loki truly had to be honest with himself-his father, if he was peering down from above-the companionship you bestowed upon him didn’t upset him as he presumed it would. he half-expected his cold and antisocial nature to speak for itself, to grab hold of the kindness of your heart, crush it, and scatter its pieces so your blind hands would have to search aimlessly for them. for him, the opportunity would’ve been so effortless, so relieving in its own wicked sense, but you had already known that from the minute the tips of your sock-clad toes had walked right up to his. your words had been honey to him, simple yet profoundly eloquent that had dripped away every vowel on his tongue. the warmth that encircled you caromed over to him, and then his icy fingers became regular fingers, and his wintry complexion no longer overpowered the person he strived to be.

the thought alone of developing a kinship alarmed the presumably mischievous man, and when time, the most rewarding elements of his beloved universe, presented him with such a miraculous creature, he went into a comatose. the object of his interest was no longer an object, it was a person, an individual that appeared to envelop his nonexistent grace as if they depended on it. so his beautiful, virulent mind, as plentiful of wisdom as it was, conceived what it regarded to be the only correct answer. 

the seconds of long anticipated hours grew legs, and urged fragments of minutes to run off. solitude embraced the area loki used to adore being in, and his absence planted a seed of confusion within the person always seated beside him. the following nights were mindless for you, even when wanda had selected your favorite films to view, your headspace drifting off to the god who wasn’t watching it with you. interactions between your team lessened. refusing a handful of thor’s popcorn became a habit, and although he questioned you about it, he never brought it up again. then, a month flew by before you could cognitively process it. loki’s eyes hardly ever witnessed daylight now, or you for that matter. more often than not, his ear perked up at the soft squeaks of sneakers before their shadow halted in front of his door. the air in his lungs would almost escape from him entirely, lips pursed so tightly he felt them turn white, before mere seconds later distorted voices trailed your feet away from the barrier that separated him from you. foolish, he’d been foolish to deceive you so childishly. what could he possibly tell you now, that wouldn’t lead you to scurry away from him?

tonight, the best remedy to get some rest was to fix some tea. a good read seemed suitable enough, too, so a copy of The Scarlet Letter decorated your pillow. you trusted your weary legs to navigate you to the kitchen while your brain busied in forming unrealistic scenarios, as silly as it sounds, and you were doing fine and dandy until a conversation reeled you back in. an all too familiar voice-one you hadn’t heard in so long-was speaking, ranting, about things that bothered him? yeah, that was it. 

it was wrong to what you did at that moment, your dear mother had taught you better than this, but the never ending words spewing from loki’s mouth had glued the soles of your feet to the chilling tiles. 

a heartbeat shriveled to nothing, a weighty ache engulfing it in all its mighty glory, and everything you ever came to know became deception. “...ridiculous! i’ll tell you one thing, brother, and that is that they’re absurd for thinking i’m better.”

a booming retort-thor’s-defended you. “you’re ridiculous. they’re good to you and you’re going to throw it away because you’re afraid?” he neatly placed his mug on the counter before his firm hand landed on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed in reassurance. “if you keep pushing people away, you’ll outlive centuries-worth of joy.” loki flicked it away. “do they truly matter to you? enough for you to stop hurting them?”

the wall pressing into your shoulder obscured the visual of loki nodding his head. the tea you craved for now sounded disgusting, and no matter how hard you blinked your eyes, a puddle threatened to hover over them. you began toying with the sleeves of your sweater, hating the emerald shade you chose for it, and your head drooped down to focus on its marbled designs. odd shapes helped center your emotions, too much that you missed a figure passing by the entry. 

did you jump? yes. did loki jump? also yes. 

“what-why are you-why are you standing there?” his voice was shaky, concerned. he looked at your figure over once, his nervous glare lingering a little too closely at the pigment of your shirt, before he focused on you. it was hard for him to miss your anguish. the question his brother had previously asked him looped in his head, and by odin yes-yes, you mattered to him. 

“did you hear what i said?” he gulped. “all of it?”

your pupils were fully dilated, mouth inconceivably dry, so you muttered a tiny “yeah.”

“it’s alright, though. i’m not-i’m not mad, or sad, or whatever. i get it.” with enough strength, you pushed your body away from where you’d been cornered and started your leave. a tightening on your wrist stopped you. 

“please don’t go.” loki never begged, and he always trusted his ego to prevent him from doing it, but he’d inflicted grief on his most treasured midgardian, and he’d have to remedy that. “please.” 

“loki, hey it’s alright. i’ll leave you alone if that’s what you need.” he held you tighter before pulling your palm up to meet his chest. “what are you-look, i’m sorry-”

“you’re sorry?” he cut you off. “i’m sorry, don’t you see what you do to me?” the pad of one of his own hands moved to cover the back of yours to push it further onto his covered heart. it was beating faster than godly possible. if he were anyone else, maybe he was nearing a heart attack. “i do believe you’re the first one to do that.”

you ceased touching him before beginning to speak, but he knew your apologies, your questions, before they even escaped your lips. he fumbled on his words for some time, thorough confessions of his feelings never came as easily as he hoped, but he managed to get the point across. his obsidian, curly locks drizzling over his tiresome face distracted you, and his enticing features, his slurred attempts to achieve your forgiveness forced a tiny grin onto your mouth.

“it’s okay, honey,” you extended a hand outward in greeting. “let’s just start over, yeah?”

he choked on a breath at the name, and then two clammy hands melded into one, and everything was alright for once. “i’m loki, and the pleasure’s all mine, darling.”

[lisyoaran]

We fill the gaps; You and Me make Three

Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, 3.9k words. Undercut.

link to (ao3) 

They find each other in between afternoons and mornings. In rooms only lit by the abundant stars and occasional moon, they come together. His hands trace her figure. Palms skate down her sides and smooth over the light fabric of the hoodie on her back. He squeezes her covered flesh between his hands, a reminder of sorts; she’s alive, she’s here, she’s real .

He can’t count the number of nights, during her time within her crystalized defense, that he’s dreamt of her. Every single one began the same way; him sleeping in his room. A hand over his naked chest, his breathing calm and measured, until the door to his room opens. The rickety old piece of wood would scrape against the floorboards. The sound would cause him to suddenly sit up and thoroughly rubs his eyes. When he opened them he’d see her, leaning sideways behind the door, half of her torso visible, her face hidden in the darkness, the only discernible thing about her appearance are her bangs. Her already pale hair looks doused in silver, because of the moonlight peeking through his windows.

‘Annie,’ he’d let out in disbelief. The whisper of her name on his lips, would make her slowly slither into his room, until her back was pressed against the closed door. Now her body fully bathed in the moonlight, he’d notice she wasn’t in the Military Police uniform she had crystalized with, but in a loose white nightgown that fluttered against her ankles. That should’ve been the first sign, but dreams are meant to be realities one wishes were true, so he’d will himself to believe that Annie was indeed in his room.

His heartbeat would pick up, the fingers that had been splayed over his bare chest would shake as his heart thumped loudly against his ribcage. Without a second thought, he’d push off the flimsy piece of fabric covering his lower half and push his legs to the bed. He’d watch her quietly as she made her way towards his bed, her body moving so mindfully; she’d remind him of what he had once read in a book. ‘Animal who are believed to be higher in the food chain tend to pursue their prey carefully, they do not wish to lose their means of survival and so they proceed with caution, creating a false sense of security before jumping in for the kill.’

But if she was the predator and he the prey, he foolishly admits, he’d gladly let her kill him. If it means he can see her ocean eyes flutter open again and her warm flesh on his fingertips, he’d gladly take a knife to the back or the death grip of the Female Titan.

After a couple of minutes of mindless thinking, Armin would be brought to his senses by a weight settling on his laps. Somehow while he was thinking about animals and the food chain, she had found her way towards him, with both of her knees on either side of his hips. His throat would go dry, his arms on his sides, hands gripping the sheets while her own hands remained near his collarbones. It felt almost as if she were back to being a statue, her whole being frozen, despite their position, a position she had initiated . Her head would also be slouched, hidden from his gaze. His left hand would then move slowly, cautiously with the intent of tilting her chin towards his face, so he could see her eyes, but within the second he’d reach her skin, he’d wake up in pants, his body cold and drenched in sweat,

A dream.

And yet tonight was real, and so were the last few nights-- Her right index traces his brow bone and he gazes up at her. Her eyes are as impassive as ever, hidden behind the countless strands of her light blonde hair, but he can see traces of concern within the silver. He tilts his head slightly to the left to catch her palm with his lips, he hopes she understands what he tells her;

Sorry I got distracted.

I’m here now,

Her soft pink lips twitch slightly before she bites down on her lower lip and turns away from his gaze.  He knows why they meet at night, because she can’t bear to see him in daylight. It’s not him , at least he hopes it isn’t. He thinks he knows why; the reason why Annie can’t bear to look at him during the day is the same as why he can’t stare at his own reflection for longer than a second.

When did you start looking at me like that?

But it’s not her asking him that this time. It’s himself. He sees himself standing before him. The other him, has his eyes and heart gouged out. He’s weeping blood, coughing it up until his white button down is drenched in it. His other self moves slightly towards him, and he flinches. Are you disgusted by all that we have done Armin, the reflection asks. Armin thinks there is a metaphor or some poetic meaning to that delusion of his. Maybe it’s guilt, for seeking the best in people that are beyond help, or in situations that are hopeless. Or maybe it's for being a hypocrite; preaching about peace and other ways to achieve goals that don’t end in bloodshed, all the while having killed thousands and eaten someone he once called comrade and friend.

But.

It’s not him , it’s his blood stained hands, he thinks, as his thumb and forefinger grasp her chin, and tilts her face towards his.

It’s how despite this, despite the blood clinging onto his fingers and crawling under his nails, his eyes portray the calm, and not the storm that he has caused. A false sense of comfort that he has implemented so deeply into his being, to forget the guilt, that it shows within his eyes.

So it’s not him, he tells himself even though he knows it kind of is. He leans his forehead and touches hers. She inhales sharply, and he breathes out ‘ I’m sorry,’ at the same time.

At his words she moves away from his touch and raises a brow. “What are you apologizing for?” She asks, her voice softer than it has ever been, but still with a threatening edge. He chuckles, embarrassed. His cheeks feel hot, he doesn’t know if it’s because of the concern she has for him or the stern tone of her voice.

He lifts the hand that isn’t clinging onto her waist to his eyes, and tells her. “I am sorry for being a hypocrite.” At her words her brows pull themselves together, and he mentally slaps himself at the image before him. All he wanted was to soothe her worries and yet here he is making her feel even more anxious. These nights are meant to be silent, a way for them to map out each other without being forced to deal with the unsaid and yet here he was saying what should remain unsaid.

All he wants to do is touch the tense area between her brows softly, and trace her lips with his own, but he knows he’s opened a door that cannot be closed until they’ve somewhat aired out all that had been brewing within both of their souls.

She clears her throat before asking him why exactly he thinks that he is a hypocrite. His shoulders tense up, and she must feel it because her grip on them suddenly becomes a bit tighter. She’s fighting to keep him from drifting away.

“I, Annie...I am not a good person.” He tells her, his voice barely a whisper. He hears her let out a soft chuckle, “If you aren’t a good person, then I might as well be the Devil , Armin.”

Armin’s eyes widened at her words. He knew how she had never forgiven herself for all the bloodshed she had caused; he saw it in the way she flinched when Mikasa would touch her arm, a touch meant to be comforting would have her recoiling, as if she had been burned. He saw it in the way she refused politely to join him or the others during simple outdoor tasks or activities (not his idea, but Levi’s, for some reason their ex-captain is hellbent on having them spend quality time together).

He feels her shift, her face once again turning away from his own. Her eyes become focused on how the moonlight splays against his collarbones. The quietness that has settled between them isn’t uncomfortable per say, but he still fights to find the right words to say, because he has to make her believe that she is not the Devil she claims to be and he, not the pacifist Saint, most see him as.

Slowly he moves the hand that had been covering his eye towards her face. His palm cups her cheek. Unconsciously, Annie leans into his touch, and he feels a warmth bloom within his chest, his face softens. “Annie,” he says, his voice, soft, trying to coax her to look at him.

“Remember how I told you I didn’t like the term ‘ good person’? I meant that.” He says while brushing his thumb against her cheek. If he weren’t so close to her face he probably wouldn’t have noticed how her brows furrowed for a millisecond. “I do.” She says after a beat.

She tucks her nose into his shirt and inhales deeply, her arms now enlaced around his torso, her fingers crawling across his back to grasp his shoulder blades. The action takes him by surprise, he stiffens, as the hand that had been holding her cheek finds itself suddenly frozen midair.

Before she can second guess herself (something he knows she’s quite fond of unfortunately), he places his hand on her arm, rubbing circles onto it to soothe her anxiety away. Her breathing is slow and measured, and he takes that as a sign to tilt his head sideways and lay his cheek on the top of her head.

It’s quite comforting, and more intimate than anything she and they have ever done. They’ve kissed, touched and groped many times before and yet nothing could compare to the warmth she felt right now, in his embrace.

“We are not good people,” She hears his muffled voice. She flinches at ‘We,’ because she knows she isn’t, but to hear the words tumble out from his lips causes a different kind of pain. She knows he’s a master in deception, hell, she’s been at its mercy, but she also knows he’s incredibly honest when he needs to be.

He must feel her hurt, because in the next instant, he’s moving her away from his chest and grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger. She casts her eyes down, she doesn’t think she can bear to look at him in the eyes, even if the darkness clouds most of the emotions within them.

“A good person, seems to mean any one person, who is only good for you, and I don’t think there is anyone who is good for everyone.” He tells her softly, and Annie recalls the same words from the time he had confronted her after the 57th expedition.

“Annie…” His voice is hoarse, “please look at me.” Her heart thunders against her chest, she’s scared. She can’t. Not when his eyes will show her the truth, show her just how much of a monster she is.

Armin doesn’t insist again, instead lets the plea hang in between them. He knows why they meet at night. Darkness clouds vision.

Light offers too much of a window into each other’s souls; and Armin knows that she cannot look at him just as much he can’t look into her own eyes. But he also knows that he cannot live a life without being by her side or a life where she cannot forgive herself.

He resolves to tell her, even if she isn’t looking at him because he knows how much they both need to hear the truth.

His thumb and forefinger stay at her chin as he begins talking again but she doesn’t move her eyes away from the buttons at the bottom of his shirt. “We have killed countless.” He says before stopping as if he had just stepped on a twig that would unleash a beast onto him.

“Comrades, children, parents, daughters, sons, lovers,” she notes the way he whispers the last word. “We are not good people, because we haven’t been good to many people, we have killed their flesh, torn their bones.” He continues.

As he takes in a deep breath he sends the hand not holding her chin, behind his back, to grab one of the hands she has splayed on his back. His grasp is rough, prying, at first she doesn’t understand why, but then realizes that she had been unconsciously clinging onto him. Pushing his thumb into her palm, he brings her hand between them and leans towards her, his back curving in a way she knows must be uncomfortable. The springs in the old mattress under them creak as he moves his rear closer to the edge in order to accommodate this new position.

She feels him wobble a bit, but doesn’t move away, because she knows he’s got her, and even if he didn’t she’d just drag him down to the ground with her.

His thumb draws circles into her palm slowly as the tip of nose buries itself in her bangs. “We both have blood on our hands, and there’s nothing we can do about that.”

She lets out a shaky breath as the fingers within his grasp twitch. He continues, “I understand why you can’t look at me Annie, and I think you understand why I can’t look at you, and most in the eyes either, too.”

And she does, well maybe, she’s not sure why Armin would look away from anyone, when he’s almost the physical embodiment of the Sun, so she keeps quiet.

Armin takes her silence as a cue to continue, but the words get stuck in throat when he’s reminded once again of the dreams he’s had of her, unwillingly, he lets out a chuckle. Her head jumps at the sound, he’s met with her eyes, finally. He cannot believe that it took a little laugh from him to make her look at him, and not all the words that had been pouring out from his heart, but then again Annie is never predictable, and he loves her for it.

He takes this as an opportunity to straighten his back and adjust his grasp on her chin, he doesn’t ever want her to look away. He sees her lips part, eyes widen but before she can say anything, a groan falls from his lips. “Man, that was not the best thing for my back,” he says with a dry laugh, as he slowly lets go of the hand he had been holding to go soothe the ache in his back. He’s met with her own hand, pushing three of her fingers with force at the dip of his back. His eyes soften at the action. Annie feels her cheeks heat up under his gaze, she tries to turn her face to the side, but before she can, his grasp on her chin becomes a bit more forceful, not hard or painful, but just enough to tell her that he does not want her to move anymore.

Her hand stays on his back while he brings his hand to her face, his thumb glides from her brow bone to the corner of lips, and now she can’t tear her eyes away even if his gaze is eating up her heart. He looks at her so earnestly. With such open adoration, that she can’t breathe. How does one look at a monster like that? She thinks.

His hand now cups her cheek fully, “Hey Annie, are you still with me?” She must’ve dozed off, because his eyes are now filled with slight concern, she nods slowly, still looking into his eyes. He gives her a kind smile before taking a strand of hair between two fingers and twirling it.

“Why did you laugh?” She asks, because she is actually curious, and she can’t lie, she wishes to hear the genuine content sound again.

He smiles at her then, his eyes crinkling, teeth showing, and she wishes suddenly that there was more light in the room, so she could capture the scene and stash it deep within her mind, for darker days.

“I, uh-” he begins, “I’ve dreamed of you. I’ve dreamed of us, in a similar position as we are in right now.” She looks at him, and she must’ve looked threatening because in the next instant he’s stammering up apologies. “It was never lewd, I wouldn’t dare.” He says as his gaze drops from her eyes. She surprises herself by sending the hand that wasn’t on his back to his cheek, to tilt his head back towards hers. His eyes widen and his mouth opens, she nods, “Go on.”

He tells her, with his eyes staring into hers, that in these dreams, dreams he had for years, she would come to him during the night, with moonlight shining down on their features. And how she’d make her way to his lap in these dreams. She raises her left brow at the image, and once again he tells her ‘never lewd.’

“But I could never touch you, in these dreams.” He tells her. “I couldn’t make you look at me, I wanted to see you.” She hears the frustration in his voice, and sees it in the way his brows knit together, her eyelids drop. “What did you want to see?”

“I wanted to see you for who you were. All your sins and all your scars, because in the end we were- we are , similar, I believe you’re good while you don’t and you think I am admirable when I believe the opposite. And, he stops, I know it all seems paradoxical when laid out in front of us, but I feel like despite what we see in each other, you can see through me like no one else.”

She takes in his words, because it's a lot. They’ve never discussed this much about their feelings, burdens or the blood staining their fingers before. She understands him though, what he means. She always has, even during their training days, she remembers wanting to learn more about him, a boy with hope and kindness in his eyes, a kindness that did not waver even when he had cornered her after finding out she was the Female Titan. She knew he had seen horrid things, his comrades dying left and right and yet he remained somewhat hopeful, and she wished to see him, all of it, the bravery, the deception and also see him sag down in exhaustion, see him not be kind, because she knew he must feel a tremendous amount of pressure from guilt and the expectations set by his predecessors.

“Armin, I look at you admirably, because you are admirable.” His eyes widen as his mouth parts in protest, but she silences him with an index to his lips. “But, that doesn’t mean that’s all I see, I also see guilt, I see the uncertainty and fear of being a burden to others. I can’t control the way I look at you, or how I feel about you, but know this, I know that there is much more to you than the peacemaker and Colossal weapon most see you as.”

His shoulders sag in relief, and she lets herself take a breath, before her nerves finally give in. She takes refuge in the crook of his neck. She’s grateful that he doesn’t ask her to look at him again, instead the hand on her chin moves against her back, back and forth.

He pushes his nose into her hair and inhales deeply, “and you Annie, are much more than the Devil you see yourself as; you are a daughter, a strong-minded, caring and kind person, I wish you understood and saw what I see, but like I said we are both knee deep in our sins to believe what others say about us.”

“But I want you to understand that when I look at you, I am not undermining or ignoring your sins and struggles, I acknowledge them and take them into my heart because I love you,  all of you, and you can do with that what you will.” He finishes.

She stiffens as tears begin spilling out from the corner of her eyes, she doesn’t know why, but she lets them fall. They wet his button down, and if he notices he doesn’t say anything, only lets her let herself crawl deeper into the warmth he’s created.

When she thinks she’s cried enough, she slowly moves away from his neck. Her face must be a mess, she knows her eyes most likely a bit swollen, and her cheeks covered in tears, her nose is runny but he still looks at her like she’s some type of fucking constellation she knows he’s read about and rambled happily about to his friends.

“Do you always talk to the girls you take to bed, to death Arlert?” She asks in hiccups as she pushes the sleeve of her hoodie to her nose to wipe it. He lets out a small laugh before cupping her face in both hands, using his thumbs to wipe away any tears left. “Only the ones I love, now let's get this off of you yeah?” He says as he tugs slightly at the hoodie that now has a sleeve covered in snot.

Not her proudest moment she’ll admit, but she forgets her embarrassment somewhat when she feels his hands glide up her bare back. Her own hands come to the back of his head, her nails gliding over his undercut and her fingers tangling themselves into his hair.

She tilts her hips upwards as he begins to trace a path down her throat with his nose, “I love you,” she says finally, and he smiles into her skin. “I sure hope you do, I don’t think my poor little heart could handle a little white lie, from little miss Annie.”

She groans in annoyance at his words and nickname, before moving her hands to his chest to unbutton his shirt. When she’s done with his last button, they both rush to push off the garment. Her hands move down his back, which is firmer, still lean but now also with much more mass than before. His hands grip her thighs as he moves them fully on the bed. His arms find themselves on each side of her head, holding him up above her. His face looks down on her, hair slipping in front of his eyes. And she wants to see him, so she pushes herself onto her elbows and pushes her left hand horizontally against his hair, until she can see his eyes, brows and hairline. “We need to get you some hair clips, Arlert.” She says with a giggle.

“Is that so?” He asks he lowers one arm, now leaning onto his elbow too, while sending the other arm to slither down her back. She takes her free hand and places an index to her cheek, false contemplating. “Hm, that and matches, because I want to see you.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out, as if he’s shocked at her statement. “Yeah.” She confirms, with a shy smile.

“I can arrange that,” he says before sealing his lips over hers.

[allsassnoclass]

i hate that i didn't say hi in that last request. HI hazel what do you think about!! "MY MOM KNITTED YOU A JUMPER" for malum? that sounds like the malum i love!! love u <3

hello hello hello here you go!

Ficmas Day 4

Rating: General Audiences

Read on AO3

Christmas in London is very different from Christmas in Australia.  For one thing, there’s snow on the ground.  It’s not much, tramped over by boots and mixed with the dirt to create sludge along the streets, but it’s still present on the ground.  For another thing, it’s cold.  Australian temperatures can dip down in winter, but by December it’s warm again, summer sun heating skin from the moment you step outside.  It’s strange to be at the end of December and have to put on a coat outside.  It’s also a little colder than Australia ever gets, and Michael finds himself seeking out blankets inside the house and shoving beanies over his hair before he sets foot outside.

It’s also different because Liz is the only parent around.  All of them had to barter extensively with their parents to convince them to even let them come to London, and once they realized they probably wouldn’t have Christmas together it prompted a new flurry of discussions about the exact timeline of the move.  In the end, professional interest won out over familial traditions, and Michael isn’t upset about heading to London early, but he’s careful not to mention the ache of loneliness in his stomach when he calls home.

He’s not really lonely.  He has Calum, Luke, and Ashton, and Liz ensures that they all eat actual meals and get enough sleep and always have someone to turn to when they need a motherly hug.  They have a little fake tree with some lights and generic ornaments on it, and Liz has been snatching packages as soon as the post delivers them, shifty about the contents inside.  Michael isn’t worried about gifts, because being in London is his Christmas present, and it’s kind of nice to get the full Northern-Hemisphere-Winter-Experience shown in all of the movies.

It would be worse if he didn’t have Calum.  It would be worse if he didn’t have all of them, but Calum has always felt like home in a way that few other people ever will.  He’s been Michael’s best friend through thick and through thin, and he’s the one who brought Luke into their life and who’s agreement to do the band kick-started their process.  Michael can always count on him to cheer him up on bad days and share his happiness on good ones, and living in London is a lot like an extension of the sleepovers they’ve been having since before they hit double-digits.  The biggest difference is that they’re in separate beds rather than piled sleeping bags on the floor.

On Christmas Eve, Michael wakes up late and spends a long time laying in his bed, debating whether he should bother getting up or let himself melt into his mattress.  Luke and Liz had plans for the day that they had suggested dragging everyone else along for, but Luke’s bed is empty and Michael can’t hear other activity in the house, so they probably left already.  Michael doesn’t mind.  He’s been tramping around London a lot lately, and a day to recharge is fine with him.

When his stomach finally growls, he heaves himself out of bed, throwing back the covers and shivering at the change in air temperature.  He needs socks.  He needs long sleeves.  It's winter in England, and that is not conducive to getting out of bed right now.

He manages to find socks that smell clean and a t-shirt that seems passable.  Hunger pushes him towards the kitchen before an acceptable hoodie can be found, but he can always sneak into the other room and steal one of Calum's.  Calum's hoodies tend to be some of the most comfortable, and he guards them carefully.  He always lets Michael keep it on if he's caught wearing one, though, which is more than can be said for the other two.

Calum enters the kitchen once Michael's toast pops.  Michael has an irrational fear that the toaster popping will startle him bad enough to bite the tip of his tongue off, so he's partially thankful that Calum makes his appearance then and distracts him, even if his presence startles him more than the toast ever could.

"I didn't know you were home," he says in answer to Calum's raised eyebrows.

"Liz took Luke and Ashton.  They'll be gone all day."

"Doing what?"

Calum shrugs.  "I think Liz is still getting presents for the family to send for New Years and wanted Luke to help.  Ashton just likes being out of the house."

Ashton is probably trying to find gifts for his own family.  Michael already sent some kitschy souvenirs for his parents, although they haven’t reached Australia yet.  He'll get them something better later, when he actually figures out what they would appreciate.

"Toast?" he offers.

"I'm making noodles," Calum says.

"Can I have some?"

"Yeah, okay."

Michael hums and slumps against him.  Everyone should have a Calum in their lives.  He's a space heater and a chef and a great bassist rolled into one, and he's pretty low maintenance.  Michael only has to give him undying love to get all of the perks.

They keep a comfortable silence while Calum cooks and Michael eats, enjoying existing together rather than filling the air with mindless chit chat.  Michael takes a shower when he finishes his toast, and Calum has the noodles ready when he's done.  After lunch, they migrate to the living room, taking advantage of the empty house to finally play Fifa uninterrupted.  Calum wins more than Michael, but he's not mad about it however much he pretends to be.  Calum is often humble to a fault, so Michael is happy to let him rub these victories in his face.

Calum goes to check the mail while Michael gets more snacks.  He comes back with two packages, one that he distractedly puts on the couch and another that he looks at curiously.  It's bigger than a shoe box, taped together securely over some colorful paper.

"What's that?" Michael asks.

"From my mum," Calum says.  "Your mum sent Liz something."

"What?  What is it?"

"I don't know," Calum says.  "It's a crime to open someone else's mail."

"But it's from my mum."

"Maybe she and Liz gossip about you.  If it's meant for you, you'll get it tomorrow."

Michael pouts.  Calum is, unfortunately, very resistant to his pouting.  He also takes the package and makes Michael put it in Liz's room before Michael can get too curious and start shaking it.  He could still peak, but then he'd have to contend with Calum's disappointed face.  That's not something anyone should have to face on Christmas Eve.

"Michael!" Calum calls from the living room.  "Get out here!"

"Why?"

"Mum sent you something!"

Michael leaves the package on Liz's bed and tramps back to the living room.  Calum grins and holds up a dark blue sweater with two white stripes stretching around it.

"My mum knit you a jumper!"

"For me?" he asks.  Calum nods enthusiastically.

"Put it on," Calum says.  "She wants a picture."

He holds out the jumper, letting Michael slip his hands in the arms and helping him pull it over his head.  It's a little big, spacious and comfortable, and the yarn is soft.  Michael doesn't know the difference between any of the stitches, but they're fun and feel fancy.

"She said she made it big so we can grow into them."

Calum pulls another jumper out, just like Michael's except in green.  When he puts it on, Michael resists the urge to help fix his hair, unruly from the static.

"I can't believe your mum knit me a jumper," Michael says.

"She's going to do one for Luke and Ashton, too, but she wanted to get yours done quickly.  She said you're an ice cube in our winters, so she was worried about how you were handling this one."

Michael feels a rush of affection for Joy Hood.  The entire Hood family is his favorite family besides his own, even without considering the fact that Calum is his favorite person.

Calum snaps a selfie, tilting his phone so they both fit in frame.  Michael presses close, faces centimeters away, and ensures that his grin is bright and happy, trying to push as much gratitude into one picture as possible.  Calum doesn’t step away while he sends it and Michael once again leans against him.

“Tell her I love it,” he says, looping his arms around Calum’s waist.  He slips his hands under the hem of Calum’s shirt and presses them against his stomach, making him squirm and swear.

“Get your icicle hands off me!” he laughs, but Michael has a grip now and doesn’t let him go until they’re tumbling onto the couch in a tangled, giggly mess.

“Still want to play another round?” Calum asks once he catches his breath.  Michael considers it, but he can’t properly cuddle with Calum if he has to hold a game controller, so he shakes his head.

“Movie?” he suggests instead.  Calum shrugs and grabs the remote, shutting down the game and switching the input so they can browse through Netflix.  Michael stretches out and Calum fits himself against him, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to cover their legs.  It’ll probably get too warm about thirty minutes into whatever they decide to watch, but for now it’s perfect.  Michael tucks himself lower into his sweater and pulls Calum closer to him, savoring every piece of warmth he can get.

[zeldasayer]

Loving Dyn VII - It’s Lonely Out In Space

(Or, Life As We Knew It Part 2)

Pairing: Mandalorian/Dyn Jarren x Reader

Summary: Dyn and Baby have disappeared. You try to find some kind of life without them.

Warnings: ANGST. HEARTBREAK. DISTRESSED BABY GREEN BEAN. I’M SORRY. Smoking, language, death.

“Keep you waiting, hour after hour

Every night, in your lonely tower

Looking down, at all of the wreckage

When we met, you never expected”

There is shuffling and grunting of a fight on the other side of the wall of yours and Dyn’s bedroom. You curl the blankets up around you as you hear the scuffling getting closer. Baby.

Adrenaline takes over as you fear for your sweet boys life, you kick off the blankets and leap to the door. You pull it open and you’re met with the most hideous man you’ve ever seen, your breath hitches. He raises his blaster to your face and you know that you are about to die, you close your eyes.

You hear the sound, but nothing happens. You open your eyes as the man falls to your feet. Your head shoots up and you see him - Dyn in full armour. You can’t see his face, but you hear his modulated breathing and you know it’s him. His blaster smoking, still pointing at you, and he’s panting.

“Dyn.” You gasp.

He turns to Baby’s room and starts.

“Dyn.” You yell, but he’s not listening.

He retrieves Baby, and you latch on to his arm. “Dyn, don’t do this.” Your voice breaks as it’s is full of nothing but desperation. With him in his armour, and you in just your sleep shirt you feel tiny against him, like he could crush every bone in your body with just his arms. That would hurt less than the emptiness in your chest.

“Dyn, PLEASE.” You cry as he keeps walking, and Baby reaches for you, little face full of terror.

“Baby needs me.” You sob. “I need you.”

Dyn tries to shake you off his arm and Baby starts to whine. He’s still reaching for you and the small bits of your heart Dyn left behind shatter.

“Why are you doing this to me?! What did I do?!”

Dyn stops at the door. “Let go of me.” His voice is low and dark, it’s practically unrecognizable. Baby tries to climb out of his arms to get to you, but he stops the child by shielding him away from you.

“Dyn, where are you going?!” You look up at him, but he’s just looking forward at the door.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

You wake up from the dream in a cold sweat and you are reminded instantly of the crushing weight of reality. Dyn and Baby are gone. You sleep on the couch, because the smell of Dyn in your bedroom makes you want to be sick. You’re still in your night shirt from days ago, because you’ve barely moved since you woke up without him. You have covered every reminder of Baby, because your lack of sleep and heartbreak have begun to delude you and you can make yourself believe you can’t remember the sound of his cooing. It feels like you’ve died every day without them.

There’s a tap at the door and you sit up, taking a sip of the cold tea left over on the coffee table. Your head feels tight, and your face is sticky from crying and you are just realizing it is late at night. Had you slept through the day? Two days? You tie your hair up as you walk to the door.

The winter air nips at your face and you grimace as you meet one of your mother’s droids in the door way.

“Hello, Miss. Juniper.” It says.

“Hi, Seven.” You sigh.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” You pull on your brown fur coat hanging next to the door and you stand there.

“Is there anything I can help you bring?”

You look around the cottage for a moment, “No. Nothing.”

You cross your arms, “I’d just like to leave. Please.”

The droid nods and you follow it out.

Your mother has sent for you. Once you confessed to hardly caring for yourself the past few days, Wilhemina decided it was best not to leave you alone and insisted you come stay with her at the residence until you felt like a human being again.

You arrive just as dawn is breaking and you kick off your shoes before silently walking up the grand spiral staircase.

“Perhaps a bath?” The droid calls from the bottom, and you don’t respond. You walk through the corridor, past your own childhood room, the guest rooms, bathrooms, to the room at the very end. Your mother’s.

You push the door open quietly and peek in. You can’t see much, the only bit of light seeping in from a crack between the drapes. But you can make out the huge white canopy bed, and slip out of your coat, leaving it on the floor.

You pad across the room, like you did so many nights as a child after a nightmare. This felt similar, and just like then you want to remind yourself it isn’t real. And that’s what makes this so much worse.

You lift up the comforter where your mother lays and she stirs, but moves to make room for you and you crawl in next to her.

“Hello, my star.” She says, voice raspy with sleep.

You lay there, facing her and you pull the blanket over your heads.

“Hi-i Mom” your voice breaks as you tear up again and she pulls you to her.

You don’t sleep, but you lay there in the darkness, focusing on her breathing. Waiting. Tears pooling in the corner of your eye and you wonder if you’re even alive.

Later in the morning, you sit in the tub, knees pulled up to your chest, your arms wrapped around them. Wilhemina pours water over your head and down your back and you just stare into the sudsy water. She’s finished washing your hair after you said you didn’t have the energy to bathe at all, and she says, “You will be okay, my star. It’s going to hurt until it doesn’t.”

You turn your head completely to the side, to shield her from seeing you cry and you feel her stand. Wilhemina walks out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. You stay in this position until it begins to strain your neck and look back down. Tears rolling off you chin and into the bath water, you feel as dreadfully alone as you did as a child and for a fleeting moment, you let yourself think about Dyn completely. How he swore you’d never have to feel the childhood loneliness that shaped you ever again. You groan as you tilt your head back and your sight goes blurry, eyes filling with tears again, and you wonder how there could possibly be any moisture left at all.

You fall back into the water, submerging yourself totally. The hot water stings your face but you don’t care. It’s the first reminder in days that you are truly alive. Blood pumping, heart beating alive and it’s killing you. Under the water you are hyper aware of your emptiness and you scream, lungs filling with water.

The days drag on like this. Each one melting into the next as you take long baths and pace around the mansion in your big t-shirt and fur coat. Sneaking your mothers cigarettes to smoke outside, like you did as a teenager. Watching the sun set, how it once made you feel so alive, now left you with nothing. You can’t remember if you’re sleeping, you genuinely don’t know and all you want to do is tell Dyn it hasn’t fucking stopped raining since he left. You want to pull Baby out of the grass when he falls asleep after a long day of keeping up with the other children. Hear his excited coos when Dyn walks through the door, or when he brings you the insects he’s found. You want to read to them on the beach, then nap to the rhythmic sound of the ocean softly crashing into land. You want to hear Dyn’s voice. The way your name drips out of his mouth, how his moustache would tickle your jaw. You want to feel the warmth of his skin against yours and you want to hear him say “The sun rises and sets for you.” Because you aren’t sure anymore.

Your mother has bought you a new closet full of beautiful clothes, and art supplies as you left the cottage with nothing but you just keep rewashing the same big t-shirt and doing mindless activities to keep yourself occupied. It’s like your attention span has depleted, and your memory is playing tricks on you. You find yourself falling into fits of rage, for how could someone, one person, have this much influence on you that their disappearance has set your whole world on fire. And as you look down on the wreckage, you’re scared you’re forgetting how it used to be.

Days seep into weeks and suddenly -

“It’s been a month.” You say, looking up from your breakfast as you sit across from your mother and stepfather. Your eyes flutter in the realization and you stare off in thought, your eyebrows knit together. A whole month without any kind of communication. Could this really be it?

“I’m going to send Seven to the cottage for more of your things.” Wilhemina breaks your concentration with her words, “You’re wasting away here. You need your books. Your paints. Everything that makes you, you.”

“I’ll go with Seven.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Your mother responds, lifting an eyebrow.

It isn’t a good idea. Especially since you have the grotesque idea to lay on Dyn’s side of the bed for a moment when you’re back. The thought both comforting and tearing you a part. You have a sick desire to be reminded of his smell, to burn it into your skin, for you feel in your gut that it may be the last time. You need the reminder that you were once with him at all, existing, together.

“I just want to make sure Seven gets the right things. I left so many ongoing projects.” You say, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

Your mother squints. “Alright.”

You land at the cottage later that evening

“I’m going to go in alone, Seven.” You say flatly.

“I’ve been given strict instructions to help you Miss. Juniper.”

“I know, but this is something I need to do on my own.”

“Miss. Juniper I really must insist-“

“Seven, do you want my mother to know how often you snuck me back into the house, all hours of the night, as a teenager?” You’re starting to get frustrated and in the same instance wonder if this is now worth it. There really can’t be any good in putting yourself right back in the middle of memories that are going to just pull you right back down.

Seven turns, looking forward. “Very well.”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll let you know if I need any help.”

You exit the ship, throwing your arm over your head and run through the pouring rain and up the steps of the cottage. You fumble with the keys as you start to feel nauseous and you know this isn’t a good idea. You stop and look back at the ship, debating wether or not you should just let Seven do this after all.

No, you think, I can do this. Get my books. Familiar clothes. Get out.

You unlock the door and you step into the dark cottage. It smells like home and it makes you want to cry.

You close the door, turn on the light and pause.

“Where have you been?” A deep, modulated voice demands darkly from behind you.

Your face goes cold and you turn slowly, coming face to face with The Mandalorian.

Tags: @otherthingsinhead @aeryntheofficial @maryan028 @readsalot73 @osric-the-l3m0n-l0v3-demon @capsironunderoos @antclottz @intense-sneezing @igotmadskills @applesislife @marrvelle-fics @killtherandomness @holyground1996 @taoiichii @fahhhhq

A/N: I know the title is from Rocketman but the true inspiration for this comes from We Don’t Deserve Love by Arcade Fire. I recommend if you want to be emotional and we’re only going to get more emotional from here so buckle up babies. Love, Zelda