#there’s probably a stone out there that’s even closer but i assume an author is going for a stone you don’t have to google

[mars-ipan]

mild pet peeve. i hate when ppl describe kmda’s eyes as being emerald in color. fanfic authors my beloveds please listen to me: if you need to use a stone to describe his eyes, use jade. jade is right there. and it’s still not exactly right but it’s so much closer

[annaphoenix1994]

No Stone Unturned

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To say I was nervous was an understatement - I was nearly in a panic attack every time I got a chance to look at the time. I wasn't a very social guy and perhaps never would be, but if I wanted to advance further into Kiera's life, I had to grow out of my social anxiety at some point. I had met her parents yesterday, and I was quite relieved to see how laid back they were. Her father welcomed me with a firm handshake and an offering of whiskey while her mother welcomed me with open arms and told me to get comfortable in her house. Her father, who goes by Bud, was a retired E-9 Master Gunnery Sergeant in the Marine Corps, and he kindly shared stories with me of his time overseas as well as asking me how different my military career was. I felt no judgement from him or his wife, and I was relieved by it, especially when they didn't ask questions about what intentions I had with their daughter. 

As the days went by, I assumed that Kiera picked up on my daily habits: coffee, sitting on her back patio to myself, and insisting conversation for whenever I felt like it. She gave me my space, and I appreciated it, however I hated it because all I wanted was to be around her at all hours of the day. The Wyoming weather failed to make up its mind towards the end of the year. One day it would be warm and sunny but turn to bitter cold and sleet within twenty-four hours. Today was one of those days. It was now early evening, and what was once a decent warm day began to turn to hard wind and falling temperatures. Deciding that I had been isolating myself on the back patio for long enough, I entered the house to the smell of something sweet, and I couldn't help but follow it, giving me an excuse to instigate conversation with the topic of food. 

I stood back and watched when I realized that Kiera was humming along to a song she was playing on her phone, keeping her hands occupied by taking out a pan from the oven. She had no idea that I was there, assuming that I was probably still on the back patio embracing my unfortunate loneliness. "Bottles and Bibles litter the floor; All night revival passed out around four," I heard her hum, reaching to her right for a bag of jumbo marshmallows, opening them and putting a few on top of whatever she had pulled out of the oven. 

Whatever it was, I knew it was going to be delicious. Our conversations haven't been long in the last few days except for over dinner, but one thing I figured out about her is that she could cook. Obliviously to her, that was a way to my heart, and she was getting closer and closer with every meal she made for me. I watched as she put the pan back into the oven, wiping her palms on the nearby kitchen towel before taking the last sip of the whiskey that was in the glass on the counter, turning around before she noticed me. "Christ, Simon!" 

"Sorry, love," I smirked. "Didn't intend to scare you. Figured you knew when someone was within a few feet of you."

"I don't have eyes in the back of my fuckin' head!" She scoffed. 

"That much is clear." 

She rolled her eyes playfully, turning her head before she could give me the satisfaction of making her smile. "Since you're in the kitchen, you can come and help me." 

"Yes, Officer."  

"Thanks, Chief." She retorted, knowing that my power of authority would be nothing more than complicated by addressing me by a different title. 

"Lieutenant." I arched my brow, stepping closer to her as if I was trying to be intimidating, but all I was doing was using this tactic as an excuse to get close to her, the smell of her perfume luring me in like a moth to the flame. 

She thought she was being sneaky when she backed up against the counter, her hand snaking behind her back to grasp a handful of flour before playfully smearing it on my chest, the residue clinging to my black shirt, yet I couldn't help but assume - or hope - that she was doing it to have an excuse to touch my torso, feeling my hard muscles that hid beneath my shirt. "Oh, you've had it now." I smirked. 

"Ooh, I'm so intimidated by you, Chief-"

She shrieked, laughing uncontrollably as I grasped her wrist with light pressure, but enough to keep her from pulling away from me as I pulled her away from the counter to grab the container of flour that was behind her. 

I got even when it came to little pranks. 

"Simon! I need to keep an eye on the casserole!" 

"Fuck the casserole!" 

"I'll embarrass you!" She giggled, threatening to attempt to restrain me.

"I'd like to see you try, love. I need to get a workout in." 

She scoffed, using her foot to try to hit me behind my foot in a pathetic attempt to move my weight. She had no momentum, and I was by far too big and too heavy compared to her, but I liked seeing her try. 

A part of me figured that she really could hurt me, but she was holding back. I knew what she was capable of and have seen it myself, including when she made Soap shut his mouth. 

I smirked when I held the container of flour over her head, teasing her with anticipation just to hear her beg me to stop, but she started it, and I got even. 

"Simon! No! No, no!" She squealed as I poured the flour on top of her head. "I swear to God, Simon!" 

"Keep swearing all you like, sweetheart, but God isn't going to save you right now." 

She slumped onto her back on the floor, catching her breath after an intense laughing fit as I stood over her, shaking my head as she looked like pre-kneaded dough. "Let me go get the rolling pin." 

"While you're at it, get me my vape." 

"I don't think so." 

"Fine, I'll get it myself." She pouted, attempting to stand on her feet before her sock caused her to slide on the flour against the wood floor, taking me down with her as I tried to catch her to keep the thud from sounding so harsh. 

I fell on my side close to her, feeling the vibrations from her laugh through the floor as I couldn't help but laugh, too. It was a rare occurrence that I fell, but when I did, it was either from the top of a wall or stepping into a hidden hole in the ground. "Oh my God, are you okay?" She asked, seeing me propped up on my elbow as I looked up to the ceiling, the flour that was disturbed after it had settled now caked onto my shirt and pants. I was sure my black socks were now white, but I didn't care. 

"I'm fine." I chuckled. She's so bloody enticing. If you don't stop looking at me with that pretty gleam in your eye, I won't be able to stop myself.

"Here, I owe it to ya - I'll help you up this time." She giggled. 

"Not yet."

"Why? You hurting? Getting old?" 

"No." 

"Then what is it?" 

She knew exactly what it was. She just wanted to hear me say it. 

I moved to adjust my weight on my elbow to where I was almost leaning over her, my free hand slowly and hesitantly coming up to wipe the flour from her cheek before swiping a small area away from her lips. Bloody fucking hell. 

Her eyes flicked away from my sharp gaze briefly, trying to find the confidence in herself to accept it, not wanting to believe it was actually happening, but I couldn't help but think that she didn't want it as bad as I did.

She felt my hot breath coming closer and closer to her lips. When she leaned towards me, I knew that I wasn't crossing a line. We closed the gap between us, her hand coming up to grab my wrist as my hand was cupping the back of her head. It all felt so perfect - like it was meant to happen this way, and I suddenly felt that my nervousness was far in the back of my mind when I felt her lips on mine. I groaned lowly when I felt her arm lay across the back of my neck, gently pulling me down onto her. 

The kiss didn't last as long as I wanted, but it was better than I could've imagined, though I wanted to drown myself within her, wanting to disappear within the confines of her spirit. "Simon," She whispered against my cheek. Her tone sounded serious, like she regretted it, but when I opened my eyes to look into hers, I could feel a sarcastic comment playing on her lips. "I need to check on the casserole." 

I knew she said it to break the awkward tension she must've been feeling, but regardless, I still loved it. I loved every sarcastic comment that left her mouth, those gorgeous hazel eyes, her quick wit, her loving attitude, fucking everything. I was immediately love-struck the moment I first laid eyes on her, which has never happened to me before in my entire life. She had my heart in her hands already, and I'd gladly let her keep it.

Because I know she'd keep it safe. 

I exhaled a chuckle, looking at her beating pulse against her neck. She wanted more. "If you mention that casserole one more time, I'll let it burn and eat the rest of those precious marshmallows that you've been eating that were supposed to go on it." I teased, daring to dip my head down and place a gentle kiss to her neck, feeling her pulse against my lips. I knew it was too early to let it go further than just a kiss, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted all of her - wanted her all to myself. 

I didn't just want eventual sex, I wanted her for the rest of my life. 

"I don't know what you're talking about..." She giggled, lifting her chin to give me better access to her neck, but I traced my lips all the way against her jaw before I looked into her eyes, pleased to see her blush before looking away from me, but I gently grasped her chin to turn her face back to where I could look into her eyes. 

"I'm over here, sweetheart." 

"I know, but... I don't know how to say this." 

Fuck, she didn't like it. She didn't feel anything. Look at you, Simon, fucking fool! 

"Spit it out, then." I replied, mentally preparing myself for the rejection. Well, at least I got to kiss her...

"Can I have another?" 

"Another what?" 

"A marshmallow," She scoffed, winning a smug grin on my face at her sarcasm, which was becoming one of my many favorite features about her. "Another kiss, Simon." 

"Say fuckin' less." I replied, crashing my lips back onto hers. She giggled into my mouth as her left leg hooked over mine and curled around the back of my thigh. God, don't do that. I'll fuck you right here on this floor, I thought as my hand slipped down to grasp her side just below her ribcage. As much as I wanted her to take me, I wasn't going to do anything until she wanted to, which was perfect for me, because I was nervous as hell, and I just hoped that she couldn't sense it. 

My kisses were needy and somewhat obsessive, and she absorbed every bit of it, the slight digging of her nails in the back of my neck enticed me enough to release a deep groan, almost a growl, at her action. Neither of us could deny that we were aroused, ready to fuck each other blind, but we both knew it was too soon. 

Her leg tightened around my thigh, and I could feel the heat between her legs. I wanted to touch her so bad, but I stopped myself. I didn't want our first time together being on her kitchen floor covered in flour - I wanted it to be romantic and slow. My hand was cradling the back of her head to prevent her head from resting on the floor when we broke the kiss, our mouths dry and plastered with puffy lips. I'm not sure what love feels like, but if it's how I feel in this moment - I think I'm in love.

Our moment of silence was cut short when she jolted under me, her phone ringing loudly on the countertop. I carefully stood to my feet, holding out my hand to help her to her feet, "I'm going to have to shower before we go to the lodge." 

"Yeah, I agree, covered in flour isn't a good look for you at the dinner table in front of your family." 

"Yeah? And having an egg thrown at you and sticking to your shirt isn't such a good look either." She scoffed with her playful threat. 

"Neither is not showing up," I raised a brow. "I get even with pranks, love." 

"We'll see about that." She smirked, making her way to the counter to pick up her phone. 

My face fell in confusion when I watched her warm smile fade into a heavy frown, "Who is it?" 

"Laswell." 

[moodymisty]

Mayhaps some Angron/fem reader with 7+12+54 from your kink list if you’re up for it? He seems like the kinda guy that would bite and definitely wouldn’t be gentle about anything in the slightest

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Authors’s Note: Suedo-continuation of this fic. Time to ride that massive Nucerian dick all the way to the pearly gates. Or at minimum to the infirmary. I've been beating my head on this for ages and it has dust on it, but enjoy.

Summary: Angron returns to Terra from a crusade, and finds himself wanting.

Relationships: Angron/Fem!Reader (reader from my StolenHistoritor!series)

Warnings: NSFW, Rough sex, Biting, That World Eaters dick hit different and by different I mean it rearranges your insides like a blender

Word Count: 1227

Lady of the World Eaters.

You don't like the title; But no one knows what else to call you. Simply put it was the only title that appealed to your current stature, even if it doesn't perfectly fit.

You aren't his beloved, you don't know if he can even utter such a word, but you know there is something here that he deems special. Perhaps there just isn't a word for it, in High or Low Gothic.

Angron’s Macgragge-born Historitor just doesn’t ring quite as well, either. Is a bit of a mouthful as well.

Angron's wing of the massive Imperial palace is its own world in an of itself. You could only assume that the other Primarchs have similar living quarters that are appropriately grandiose, though it's only speculation; You haven't seen them and probably will never will.

But you had just gotten out of a bath when Angron returned. The loose piece of clothing you put on simply to prevent from getting cold hit your mid thighs, shapeless and thin. It wicked up the water against your skin slowly, until you felt mostly dry.

The loud thud of boots on the stone floor had gave him away, but for a moment you had assumed it was simply the sound of patrolling Custodes; Until it continued closer and closer, and then stopped.

Angron entered, lacking the brushed and scratched bronze armor you're so used to him wearing. Instead he wore a more comfortable- at least you assume so- pair of trousers that tucked into thick, furred boots. He lacked any sort of top, as despite Terra being quite frigid currently, he had little care about it. If he's anything like his Astartes, his blood runs so hot it would take a chill beyond what Terra can produce to make him shiver.

You stood there frozen, half dressed and standing damp in the middle of a dim room. He looked down with an unreadable expression from his overwhelming height. It felt like minutes, but it was more than likely only a few moments.

But you'd never felt so small as you had then; Unable to know what he was thinking. It was always hard to, but even then it seemed like he was impossible to know where he was in his own head.

As while you've kissed him, and he's returned it, it's never gone much farther. You had assumed the Nails had taken it away; His ability to feel something as intrinsically human as desire.

But apparently, he still can.

“A-Angr-“

Your voice comes out in short gasps has he fucks you, fists clenched. It feels like he’s in your stomach, and he can only just bury himself to the hilt. You’d fear what would happen if he pushed it even farther. If he lost just a bit of restraint.

Perhaps it’s another part of the Nails’ torture. That the one person he's found that actually loves him he can’t even touch to the fullest, that they aren’t made for him and could crack under the slightest misuse.

He hasn’t said a word, other than sharp breaths and grunts, his hand on your hips bruising as he pulls you to him. You had been on your knees, but it was not long before your fell to your stomach and laid nearly flat on the massive ocean of a bed.

Your neck aches, you know he's broken skin and blood probably trickled down your neck, only now having relief that he can no longer reach it. The angle would be too severe, he stands too tall to be able to press his face into your neck while he fucks you.

It had felt good at the time, now it complains and aches, and you'll have marks serving as an easy reminder to you'll need to cover up.

Your hands grip the bed with your nails threatening to tear the fabric, intricate and expensive; Far beyond anything Angron is used to. You know he's refused most of Terra's more frivolous things. Perhaps that's yet another reason why his fellow primarchs have been so surprised by your existence, perhaps.

Your face feels hot, skin boiling as your stomach ties itself in knots, tight like it’s going to snap. You haven't looked towards him in awhile, you can see his shadow and feel his bare skin against your own, but for some reason you can't gather the will to look over your shoulder. Perhaps it's the embarrassment, as he brushes against nerves to deep inside of you that you gasp and squirm underneath him. His grip keeps you held firm however, as even though escape is the last thing on your mind, you'd never be able to do so anyways.

He is still be going to leave your battered and bruised for days, however. Even with his grip on your hip being so soft for his own strength. But his gentleness in context has left you trying to swallow moans instead of screams.

You attempt to keep most of the swears you utter under your breath as you cum, fingers tight around your one mouth as he simply continues to fuck you.

It’s so close to pain, but you’re used to teetering that knife’s edge with him. That how it feels at almost every moment you're around him. You barely notice it, anymore.

You can feel the moment he finishes inside you from the way he slows, and you hear his fist clench around the metal of the bedframe tight enough to crunch it. More restraint. He's always trying to keep the Nails held back.

You can also tell just how much; When he pulls out you can immediately feel it leak from you, slick against your thighs.

He pulls away, and you can still hear his sharp exhales through his nose. You don't know if it's because he's actually winded like yourself, with a racing heart and flushed skin, or that the Nails are biting at his mind again.

You roll, giving a soft groan in pain as you look up from underneath him.

You feel so small.

One of his hands reaches towards you and grips your jaw tilting it; You barely manage to hold in a wince as he observes your battered neck.

He’s silent. Angron is surprisingly so whenever you’re around. You always wonder what he’s thinking. He notices the bruising and droplets of blood on your neck, at minimum. That even the most gentle abused caused it. You hear him let out an exhale.

“You should go to the apothecary.” He’s blunt. You lay more comfortably in the bed underneath him, but you still feel pinned under his eyes. If he was someone else you'd think he was wanting you to leave, but from the way he's looking at you and keeping you caged, that seems to be the last thing he wants.

“It doesn’t hurt,” You say, and he hums. “I’ll wait till tomorrow.” The blood has stopped, anyhow. It'll be more painful to leave him and spend an hour there than it would be to just lay here. The entire time you've still felt his hand on your hip, skin warm. It drifts down slightly more towards your thigh.

He shifts and moves to once more press his mouth against your neck, but gives you little more than an accepted noise of understanding.

[ladyantiheroine]

You Make Me Hungry

Summary: While Julie and R are hiding out, the two get closer than they ever have before. Read on AO3.

Pairing: R x Julie Grigio

Warnings: Explicit sexual content.

Word Count: 5.1k words

Tags: speech and language therapy, shakespeare quotations, cute, fluff, short & sweet.

Author's Note: Set after the scene at the Grigio house.

“Julie…”

Julie’s eyes snapped open. A low, raspy voice whispered to her in the dark. She knew that voice, the one that struggled to crawl from its owner’s throat.

“R?” she said.

She lifted her head from her pillow and glanced toward the floor. She and R had found themselves in the same place they were before they arrived at the compound. She was curled up in bed, and he was lying straight down on the floor.

Julie shifted closer to the side of the bed.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Did you hear something?”

R shook his head.

“No…” he said. He looked at her, those big blue eyes bright even in the dark. “Can’t…sleep…?”

Julie shook her head and dropped back down onto the pillow. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

“No,” she said. “Thinking about too many things.”

“Me too…”

The two of them lay in silence for several minutes. In the distance, there was the pattering sound of gunfire. It must have been guard trainees practicing. If it had been an attack, the compound would have sounded the emergency alarm. But still, the sound was enough that Julie could sense R stiffen on the floor.

The Grigios lived in the biggest house in the compound. Naturally, since Julie’s dad was the leader and the place doubled as a kind of town hall for the whole community.

The house was quiet tonight. Julie’s dad was still out of the house, called late to a meeting with the other community leaders near the wall. Nora had gone back to her family’s place. At night, the place felt as empty and cavernous as a skull.

Julie turned her head towards the digital clock next to her bed. It was seven past midnight. It was getting late. The night was cool, and the house was getting cold. Julie shivered as a breeze crept through the room. R was still as stone on the floor. If the Dead had any advantage over the Living, it must have been a high tolerance for low temperatures. At least, Julie assumed, given how cold their bodies always were.

Julie turned on her side to face R.

“Are you okay down there?” she asked.

R shook his head.

“You’re not uncomfortable? You don’t have to sleep on the floor this time…”

Again, she shook his head and shrugged. Julie pursed her lips. He was a guest in her home, technically. The rules of hospitality didn’t completely go away just because it was the apocalypse. And she felt like a jerk making him sleep on the floor again.

“You know…” she said. “You could…join me up here if you want. On the bed.”

R’s head turned to face her, his blue eyes widening a little. Julie felt her whole face flush red, and she was thankful it was dark in the bedroom.

“I mean,” she said. “If someone comes in here, we don’t want them to see you on the floor. I mean, my dad could be home any minute, and he’ll probably check on me. If he comes I could hide you under the blanket and pretend you’re a pillow.”

Julie felt her face grow hotter and hotter with each word that spilled from her mouth. She bit her tongue before she could say more. But then R nodded, and he slowly pulled himself onto his feet and stepped closer to the bed.

Julie shifted to the side to make room for him. Another perk of living in one of the bigger, nicer houses in the compound was having the best bedrooms. Julie’s bed was a queen’s size with enough space for two bodies.

R lowered himself flat on his back, his head to the pillow, stiff as a board. The Dead didn’t need sleep, not like the Living did, but since the Dead started dreaming again, perhaps normal sleep could return too.

Except tonight, R didn’t seem interested in sleeping. His eyes flicked from Julie to the window when another pattering of distant gunfire sounded from outside. Julie’s heart sank. She hated seeing him like this. She pressed a gentle hand to his arm. R turned his gaze from the window back to her,

“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered to him. “They do practice rounds like this to scare off any Dead on the outside. They always aim for outside the walls. We’re safe in here,”

At least, for now.

R seemed to relax a little. He nodded and his body eased into the bed. Julie pulled up the rest of the blanket to cover him up. She gave him her best reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’m here. I won’t let them get you.”

She said this, even as her ears perked up for any sounds that may come from down the hall, or outside the window, or anywhere:

Surviving the apocalypse made you paranoid. You became hyper-aware of your surroundings. Any sound, any movement, any smell, could mean danger was approaching. That was how it was like for the Living. But Julie never considered if that’s how the Dead felt too. To be wandering with no memories, afraid any moment a bullet could pass through your head, and you would be dead for real this time. She imagined R feeling this way any time he came close to the living, and it made her heart sink.

A cold thumb brushed against Julie’s cheek and she was pulled from her thoughts. R brushed his hand along her cheek and gave her a gentle look.

“Are you…scared…?” he asked.

Julie pursed her lips.

“Yeah, of course I am,” she said. “I’m fucking terrified.” She shifted under the covers. “I’ve been taught to fear the Dead for so long. Now I get a taste of fearing the Living.”

Julie rolled her eyes.

“Not that I should complain,” she said. “If my dad finds out I let you in, he’ll probably lock me in this room and never let me leave again. But if he finds you…”

Julie didn’t need to finish the sentence. She and R were both very aware of how much danger he was in just being in this room. He knew everyone in this compound had their fingers on triggers, and they would be ready to shoot if they saw him.

A brush of cold ran across Julie’s forehead. She lifted her eyes to see R slowly brush a long strand of hair out of her face.

“Keep…you safe…” he said. “Keep…us both…safe…”

Julie grinned. R was always saying that. Back when he saved her from the other Corpses, back when he let her stay in the airplane. He made a promise to help her survive. 

But now it was her turn to return the favor. They were in Living territory now, and she needed to do everything she could to protect him. It was her turn to keep him safe.

Julie gently took his hand in hers and squeezed it. Funny thing, his flesh wasn’t as cold as it used to be. His whole body was warmer, less pale. He started looking more and more human the longer they were together.

“We’ll make this work,” she said. “I don’t know how, but we’re going to figure out what’s going on, and it’ll all be okay.”

The words were meant for R, but Julie knew they were for her too. But could she really believe them? She planned to talk to her father the next day, to see if she could convince him that the Dead really were changing. But her father, like a lot of people, like Perry, had lost hope in a better world a long time again. If she couldn’t persuade him, the only option was to sneak R out of the compound and get him away before anyone could see him.

And if it came to that, Julie would likely never see him again.

The thought sent something cold sinking inside her. The idea that this was the last time she’d ever see him, that this was the last night they would spend together, filled her with dread that she never would have expected. 

The words her father used to describe the Dead echoed through her head: It is uncaring. Unfeeling. Incapable of remorse.

For a long time, Julie believed those words. Corpses were far from any humanity they may have had before. It wasn’t until she met R that her understanding of the Living and the Dead was shattered. R was not the monster everyone thought he was. And according to him, he wasn’t the only one. There was a glimmer of hope. If only she could just get the others to see it.

“Julie…” R ran a hand along her cheek. “What are…you thinking…?”

Julie brought her eyes to his. She couldn’t recall if she’d ever been this physically close to him before. Even back at the airport, even back at the abandoned house, he always kept a respectful distance. Always sleeping a few feet away, to remind her that he wasn’t going to eat her. But now he was so close that he could feel her breath. She could see the veins in his throat. See the small scratches on his face. Feel the cool chill that wafted from his skin.

Julie lifted her head and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was quick, but the second it happened it felt like time turned to butter. R’s lips were frosty cold, but they were softer than what you’d expect from a Corpse. R went quiet and still until Julie pulled away. He looked at her, unblinking, those round blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Julie said. Her face flushed and she dropped her eyes from his. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I just…”

R brought a hand to her chin and lifted her gaze back up to his. His thumb traced along her lips.

“Your lips…” he said. “So…warm…”

Julie stared at him for a moment, something passing between them both before their lips came together again. Julie wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. R circled his arms around her waist and pulled her body close to his. They were hot and cold, and neither could touch the other enough.

Julie could feel the warmth from her own body creeping onto R’s and the sensation made him moan. She wanted to touch him all over, run her hands along him, heating every cold inch of his body. She wanted to take the life force inside of her and put it in him.

“So…warm…” R mumbled into the kiss.

Julie was certainly warm all over. She imagined if she could look at herself now, her skin would be bright pink and supple. Her body was working overtime and she felt hot enough to start sweating.

And then, Julie did something neither of them expected.

She bit his lip.

She did it without thinking. It came out like some primal instinct. Julie’s teeth bit R’s bottom lip for a second until she pulled her face away.

“Sorry,” she said. Then she let out a chuckle. “And here I was worried about you trying to take a bite out of me.”

She tried to play it off like a joke, but that jolt in her body that made her bite him was still rushing through her. And R must have sensed it. He could feel it in the way her teeth had gripped his lip. He was giving her a look that was hard to decipher. 

Then, he moved his head closer and pressed his lips to hers again. Julie felt her body go warm and limp. She rolled onto her back and R’s lips sunk deeper into hers. Her hands reached up to his face, then up into his hair. A soft, low moan escaped her throat and she thought she would melt.

Julie was only in her pajamas, which consisted of just a blue t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. R pressed his hand to her stomach, then slid down the front seam of her shorts. The sensation sent shivers and goosebumps along Julie’s body, then she gasped as R slipped his fingers inside her.

Julie shivered at the two icy fingers gliding slowly inside her. If R had any experience with this, it must have left his memory after he died. His fingers moved slowly, hesitant, like he was afraid he might hurt her. But Julie felt a rush of pleasure jolt through her body as his fingers worked inside her. 

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, releasing a moan from her lips. R used his free hand to wrap around her back and hold her close. His fingers moved deeper into her, massaging over her clit. Julie bit her lip to keep herself from moaning louder.

“Does that…feel good…?”

R’s dirty talk wasn’t exactly scintillating. Being dead didn’t leave one very articulate to begin with. But Julie didn’t care. All she cared about was his body pressed against hers and his cold but steady fingers working the inside of her pussy. She bit her lip and nodded.

“Uh huh,” she breathed. She gripped his arm. “Keep going.”

R nodded and kept his hand moving. Julie shifted her hips, taking his wrist and moving his hand so it was perfectly pressed over her sweet spot.

“Right there,” she told him. He pressed down where she instructed, and the shock of pleasure was so intense that Julie let out a small cry. “Yeah, right there.”

She clasped an arm around R’s shoulder, pulling him closer to her. She moaned in his ear as his hand pleasured her between her legs. His cold lips brushed against her neck, and he planted small kisses along her flesh. His icy touch sent delicious shivers down her spine.

All of a sudden, Julie felt a rush of heat rising inside her. She was just about to climax when she clasped R’s wrist. He stopped and looked at her.

“What?” he asked.

She heard something. And it wasn’t just in her head this time. There was a loud creak as a pair of heavy boots made their way up the stairs.

“Shit, it’s my dad,” Julie said.

Worst of all, he was heading towards her room. His footsteps were heading right in the direction of her bedroom. Julie turned to R and put a finger to her lips.

“Stay quiet,” she said.

Julie grabbed the duvet and pulled it over both their heads. She crawled on top of R, straddling him so he was right beneath her. She pushed him down deeper under the covers, pressed her head to the pillow, and closed her eyes. R went stiff as a board beneath, concealed by the duvet.

The bedroom door creaked open and a long orange light from the hall passed over Julie’s face. She squeezed her eyes against the light then opened them. Her father’s lumbering silhouette hovered by the door. Julie tried to steady her heart, her body hyper-aware of the boy hiding right beneath her.

“Julie,” her father whispered. “Are you awake?”

“I am now,” Julie said, in her best annoyed-teenager voice. She rubbed her eyes against the light accosting her eyes. “Something wrong? Are we evacuating? I didn’t hear the alarms.”

“No,” he said. “I just came by to check on you. The leaders’ meeting is running longer than expected. We’re going to evaluate the outer walls, so we may be out until morning.”

“Okay.”

“I just wanted to let you know, since that means you’ll be alone in the house for the rest of the night.”

“Well then, duly noted.” 

Julie turned and pressed her head back onto the pillow. She waited to hear the door closed, to hear her father’s footsteps disappear down the hall. But the light from the door streaked the wall, and she could feel him standing there. She could feel his eyes boring at her.

“Are you hiding something under the blanket?” he asked.

Julie’s stomachs lurched. Her brain scrambled for an explanation.

“Nora was here earlier,” Julie said quickly. “She lent me some more pillows. I think I may need a new mattress.”

She closed her eyes shut, willing her father to leave. He was quiet for a moment, then she heard his hand clasp the doorknob.

“Well, we’ll look into it tomorrow,” he said. “Get some sleep. Stay inside. Alert me if there’s anything suspicious. Your phone still works, right?”

“Yes, it does.”

“You have my number ready?”

“Yes, dad. I promise I’m safe. I’ll call you if anyone gets in.”

Julie felt R shift slightly beneath her. She moved her hand and pressed it to his chest, pinning him in place.

“Alright then,” her father said. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

“Night, Dad.”

Her father paused for a moment, then slowly closed the door. As he did, a small sound escaped R’s throat. Julie’s father paused just before the door closed. Julie held her breath and moved her hand to cover R’s mouth.

“Did you say something?” her father asked.

“No,” Julie said. Her heart quickened in her ear. “It’s my stomach. I forgot to grab some dinner.”

“Well, there’s some fresh fruit downstairs. Do you want me to bring you some?”

“No,’ Julie said. “I’ll get it myself in a minute. Go ahead, dad. The team needs you.”

Her father paused, nodded, then finally shut the door. Julie held her breath and closed her eyes as his footsteps disappeared down the hall and down the stairs. The front door to the house creaked open, closed shut, then the metal lock slid into place. Julie waited for several minutes once he was gone. After what felt like ten minutes, she released her breath and opened her eyes.

Julie glanced one last time over her shoulder, then tossed the blanket up from R’s face.

“Is he…gone?” R asked.

“Yeah,” Julie said. “He’s leaving for the perimeter. He won’t be back until morning.”

Julie looked down at him and smiled. She straightened her back and straddled on top of him, her knees to his hips.

“Which means I get to have you for the rest of the night,” she said.

Even in the dark, Julie saw a small smile quirk onto R’s face. She leaned her face down and pressed her lips to his. His hands gripped her hips, cold fingers pressing into her burning flesh.

Normally at this moment, Julie would have searched for some protection in her bedside drawer. It’s what she always did with Perry. But then she remembered that the Corpses couldn’t even bleed, so that likely wasn’t a concern.

Death, Julie thought to herself. The best birth control.

But that’s when Julie realized something. She unlocked her lips from R’s and sat up.

“Wait,” she said. “R…you don’t bleed…” Corpses don’t bleed. No blood blowing through their veins. “Can you…”

Julie blushed and glanced down right at his hips where she straddled him. She glanced back up at him, and his face dropped and he shook his head.

“The Dead…” he said. “We can’t…”

Of course they couldn’t. The dead couldn’t bleed, didn’t have heartbeats. The most they could do was talk and make noises. Bodies like theirs didn’t work like those of the Living.

Julie sighed.

“God, I’m so stupid,” she said. “I forgot you…no blood in your body means…”

Just seconds ago, Julie was ready to do all kinds of dirty things to R. Now saying the words out loud made her blush. She couldn’t have sex with R if his own bloodless body couldn’t…prepare him for it.

This was embarrassing. Julie was about to slip off of R when he gripped her hips, holding her in place. She looked down at him.

“R,” she said. “What are you…”

In a swift moment, R rolled his body over so Julie was on the mattress and he was on top. It was so sudden and unexpected for a Corpse that Julie let out a yelp, Her back bounced on the mattress, her knees still pressed to R’s hips.

“R,” Julie said. “What is this…”

R’s eyes were lowered down between them.

“I…can’t…” he said. He lifted his eyes back to hers. “But you can.”

Before Julie could ask what he meant, R slid his hand down the front of her shorts again. Julie gasped as that cold hand met her lady parts again.

“Still…wet…” he said.

Julie couldn’t deny it. Her body was still burning, raging, demanding to be satisfied after too many interruptions. She wanted R, and she would have him, Corpse biology be damned. 

R’s eyes glazed down her body, from her face down to where his hand clasped between her thighs. His cold touch sent shivers up her body, but it only made Julie hungrier.  R lifted his hand from her shorts, then touched his lips. Julie caught the tip of his tongue and traced his fingers.

“Do you…want me to…?”

R was looking at her with those eyes, the rest of the question hanging in the air. Julie nodded with no hesitation.

“Yes,” she said. “Please.”

She was breathless. Her body was begging for release. She moaned as R pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her mouth. Then her jaw. Then down her neck. Then her collar. Julie tipped her head back on the pillow and moaned as R planted cold kisses down her body.

His hands fumbled for the front of her shorts.

“Can I…?” he mumbled into her neck.

“Yes,” Julie moaned. “Please.”

R took the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down. He held her while she kicked the shorts off onto the floor. Julie pushed him away for a second to pull off her shirt. She tossed it onto the floor, leaving her in only a mismatched white bra and blue panties.

R straightened up and let his red hoodie fall from his shoulders. His eyes kept grazing her up and down.

Julie hooked her thumbs into the seam of her underwear, then pulled them down. A cold brush of air sent goosebumps down her body, but she was too distracted to notice. She tossed her underwear on the floor. R’s eyes were wide and locked on her body. His lips parted and he traced his gaze up to her.

Julie smiled, bit her bottom lip, then gave him a look. 

“You turn,” she teased.

Now it was R’s turn to bite his lip. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. It wasn’t exactly a sexy striptease, but Julie didn’t care. The fabric rolled up his torso, and Julie caught a sliver of his stomach. R wasn’t exactly ripped, but it was enough to make Julie hungrier. She giggled as R struggled to pull the shirt over his head.

“Need help?” she asked.

R shook his head, but the shirt remained stuck on his head. Julie shifted down the bed and sat up straight. She grabbed the shirt and pulled it the rest of the way up his head. R was deathly pale and cold under those layers, a stark contrast to Julie’s pink and warm flesh. Julie grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a kiss.

The two of them fell backward onto the bed. Skin to skin, there were no inhibitions left. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier. Then, R moved his lips to her cheek. Then her jaw. Then her neck. Down her chest just over her heart, then down her stomach. He shifted down until his knees were on the floor right at the edge of the bed. 

R pressed a kiss at the top of her thigh, then started kissing down. Despite his cold touch sending goosebumps across her body, he was so gentle that Julie felt euphoric. She opened her legs and pressed her heels into the mattress. She could feel how wet she was down there, and R moaned deep in his throat, like he could smell her.

Julie expected him to start right away, but R must have not been done with her yet. He pressed his lips just below her knee, then began kissing down her inner thigh. Julie let out a loud moan and threw her head back on the pillow. His lips felt so good trailing down closer to her clit. He wasn’t even aware of how much of a tease this was, how badly it made her want to shove it right in his mouth.

Then, she felt his lips brush right at her entrance. She heard a low mmm from his throat. It was an enticed, hungry sound. The sound one makes right before a meal.

That’s when Julie realized what she was about to do, and her heart lurched in her chest. Her head snapped up from the pillow. All she could see was the top of the head of the Corpse right between her thighs.

R must have sensed her, because he lifted his head from her waist.

“Are you…scared…?” he asked.

R was looking at her with those big, blue eyes. Julie knew what he was really trying to ask. Getting this close to a Corpse always came with risks. R was better at self-restraint than most Corpses. But even then, it was risky to think what could happen if his mouth came that close to her flesh.

Julie shook her head. She’d lived through the apocalypse. She learned long ago that being afraid was a luxury few could afford anymore. Besides, she wasn’t afraid of R.

“No,” she said. She dropped her head back, her golden hair sprawling across the bed. “Do it.”

R nodded, then pressed his lips to the flesh just below her other knee. He began kissing slowly, gently, down her inner thigh.

“Don’t want…to hurt you…” he mumbled into her flesh. He said it like a promise. And Julie believed it. His lips on her thigh were so gentle, so sweet, that Julie let her head fall back when a loud moan escaped her lips.

R kissed down until he was at her entrance. She smelled heavenly and her moans of pleasure were music to his ears. She was wet and hot and begging for release. He traced his tongue around her clit, and Julie let out a sharp exhale.

R lifted his head.

“Do you…want me to…stop?”

Julie shook her head.

“No,” she breathed. “Don’t you dare stop.”

With those instructions, R pressed his mouth to her clit and shoved his tongue inside her. Julie let out a loud gasp.

“R,” she gasped.

Fuck, he was better at this than she expected. His tongue made long, slow motion around and inside her. He was more than just tasting her, he was savoring her. Hungry, ravenous.

Like a meal.

The thought crossed Julie’s mind for a second and then evaporated as another wave of pleasure swept up her body. There were no teeth, no bite, to what R was doing. He made low, groaning sounds deep in his throat, but Julie felt no gnawing pain. Only warm waves of pleasure lapping up her body.

For a moment, Julie considered how similar making love to someone was to consuming them. Then R pressed his tongue deeper inside, and the shock of pleasure was so intense that she gripped his hair with both hands.

She kept waiting for him to pause and come up for air. But then she remembered that the Dead don’t breathe. So he kept going and going, his tongue hungrily lapping her up without stopping. It was overwhelming. No breaks or pauses, so the pleasure kept coming and never stopped

R moaned as his tongue explored inside her. He admitted, there was a part of him that was tempted to take a bite of her leg right then. Her flesh smelled fantastic. It was like licking one’s food without being able to eat it. So much goodness just at the tip of his tongue.

But he restrained himself. R didn’t like killing anyone, but especially not Julie. Besides, just tasting her like this was almost enough to satiate him. He just wanted this moment to last forever. The two of them are so close together, him making her happy, her delighted noises filling his ears.

Suddenly, her fingers balled into a fist, tightening her grip on his hair.

“R,” she gasped. “I think I’m…”

Yes, she was. R could feel it, the way her body grew hotter, how much wetter she was. He groaned deep in his throat as his tongue worked deeper, harder, inside her. He gripped both her thighs with his hands to keep them from snapping close around his head.

Julie’s moans grew louder and more desperate. Her hands gripped his hair and she rose into a melting climax. Her voice rang off the walls, for a moment, anyone in the compound could have heard them, but neither of them cared.

R licked a little longer after Julie finished until her fingers loosened on his hair. He kissed her inner thigh one last time then straightened up on his knees. His lips were dripping wet. She tasted fantastic, his tongue licked away at the residue on his mouth. 

He looked at Julie, who was still a warm puddle on the bed.

“J…Julie…” he said.

Julie glanced up to look at him, then leaned forward and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. She pulled him into a kiss. R stumbled forward on top of her as the kiss deepened. She gripped him by his shoulders and ran her hands up his neck to his hair. She came up for air just long enough to look him in the eye. She was breathless.

“That was amazing,” she said. Then she chuckled. “I guess the Dead do know how to eat, huh?”

R felt a smile creep into his face. He pressed his forehead against hers.

After a few minutes, R sank onto the bed next to her. Julie nuzzled close to him, her head buried in his chest. R wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. She felt light as a feather in his arms. She wasn’t just warm, she was…glowing.

“I think I love you, R,” she mumbled into his chest, just where his heart would be. 

And at that moment, R felt a flutter in his chest. He had felt it once or twice before since he met Julie. Now he not only felt it, it seemed to linger right there in his chest.

R held her close and pressed his face into the top of her blonde head.

“Love you…Julie…” he said.

Julie smiled and nuzzled her face in his chest. Just outside the window, there were sounds of voices, of footsteps, of men speaking in low voices and practice rounds firing in the distance.

But deep inside the Grigio house, it was quiet except for two heartbeats sleeping beside each.

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

More pages I have skimmed and tried to compress in a short amount of time. I really don't want to stay longer than I have to, but I think my findings are interesting enough to get your attention.

Transcript of the first and second page: This rock on the first page, does it remind you of the Rosetta stone? This is the Tabula Smaragolina. It's been found according to several myths by Abraham's wife, one dude out of the bible. It's written in Latin and has some hints or rather guides on how to create the Philosopher's Stone, gaining eternal life, healing every sickness, and so on. Some of the key points noted are: - as above, so below - the Sun ist the father, the Moon is the mother - all is being made from one substance - you shall segragate soil from fire - the wind borne you, the earth fed you It basically attempts to explain the macrocosmos as well as the microcosmos and claims everything is connected either way. it was recited especially in the Middle Ages and is used even today in pseudo-science and occultists and even the Lux Veritatis seem to have worked with it. It's written by Hermes Trismegistus, who is an author with a pen name and there's a whole belief made by his collective works someone titled "intermeticism". It's religious texts mixed with philosophical inputs.

Transcript of the third page: This is a paper with a collection of medieval torture methods painted on it. I might have brought the page with me, you know, a woman's gotta collect something before she dies. I made peace with the fact I don't know if I'll get out of here. Anyway. The most important thing here is that the Sanglyph is in the left upper corner with text I cannot read. Maybe it's a pre-Sanglyph or something, but it has these holes and shapes and symbols as the original.

Transcript of the fourth page: Here's a colection of symbols for elements. All of them are still considered elemts today and are in the periodic table. The symbols are more often related to plantes that to elements. I guess all elements needed by Eckhardt are being logged here. He managed to turn one into another, which today is 1) too expensive and 2) involves some atom-knowledge no normal person besides a physics expert know about. I kinda wish I could decipher all his motes, or the LV ones. So much knowledge lost in time and there's barely any I can carry with me or write down.

Transcript of the fifth and sixth page: Say hello to one of the numerous papers I have no idea of! I don't know what that is. Neither his nor the next pages make sense to me. I can only assume, so my tinfoil is as follows: this looks like a wheel of the year? Or some planetary sketch? Could aslo be some measurements taken of some star- or astronomy or astrology-related things. Really I wish I could understand this. The rest of the books contained a lot of writings propably in Angelic Alphabets, something beyond me, so I only included these pages.

I'll have a closer look at this place, I am hearing weird sounds..and I really don't want to go there. I am stalling and hoping to be left alone.

Transcript of the seventh and eighth page: So uhm...after a while I had to move on. I can't be stuck in this place forever. When I walked out I was greeted with a deadly room, I am not kidding you. I made a map to show you somehow where I am so you can dig up my corpse some time...So. At 1 there is a door with a lion, leading to my place. Bascially I stand here. At number 2 are statues of angels holding fire, at 3 are platforms I could jump on if I am insane and at 4 there are two bridges, probably one that fell apart like my current faith of getting through this in one piece. Oh and at the other side at 5 there is another door leading to this room- and perhaps also out.

Someone crossing my way would have to jump on these pillars, climb ladders, jump over giant pits filled with molten lava and somehow survive this while also pulling a lever, at least there is one I can actually see. The lava is far away from me but honestly I wouldn't want to test its temperature. There is literal fire on the ground, it's incredibly hot in here, and I won't and can't go in there. The only open path left is the fucking door at the other end of the room. Shit.

I made two charts with my idas on how to deal with my situation right now.

GO FURTHER:

maybe find out who the fuck went on a killing spree in Paris and Prague

confirm Lara Croft hasn't murdered her friend

see a nephilim/Eckhardt/ a Lux veritatis

GO BACK:

hope I can actually find the way back

all I've done and learned so far is not completed

Lara isn't redeemed

my ellbow that I somehow bruised and that is throbbing was for nothing

won't know if all I gathered is even real

no one will get to read this book yet I'm still alive...

Transcript of the nineth and tenth page: I have been listening to a man and a woman talking. I will try to slowly get down the slide here. not end up as barbecue, and see what's going on. There is a path ahead, and people. I think I am on the right way.

I made it! I made it and only hurt my knees and have run out of first aid supplies so I had to rip part of my jeans' seam and pat the wounds dry. I need a goddamn week of sleep. I picked up some of the talk in between the two though:

Woman: You stole their body parts. Man: As I will take yours! W: *unimpressed, shots fired, running* M: Only I can make the old race flurish again. W: I'll stop you then. M: I killed the last Lux Veritatis. I am immortal. W: *shows him something* Scary, huh? M: It's on me to bring hell onto earth, you mean nothing! W: It's gonna be a real pleasure to shut you up. gunfire

This has to be Lara Croft! I saw a glimpse of her face while hugging the wall. it's her!! This other guy she's talking to is on a platform upstairs. He has a belt(?) on his arm and I think I can see a chest place connected to one arm. This reminds me of this drawing on a man...it has to be Eckhardt!

Shit, I am hiding behind a pillar. There's screams and rumbling and noise everywhere. I'll just listen and once everything goes silent, I'll have a peak. I wish I could be of use, but there is nothing I can do, is there?

Holy shit. He is real. He really exists!

[randoauthor]

Love Letters to No One (B.B)

Part Eight: Dagger One

Pairings: Bradley x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Pete x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, maybe some swearing?

Word Count: 1k words

Author's Note: I added in a fun little fact about Lemon that I hope y'all can find!

Summary: Lem finds herself in the people lost long ago, and the mission begins.

MasterList!

I don't remember why I love to fly anymore.

I don't remember if it's because my dad and all my uncles flew and that's just the life I have lived all my life.

I don't remember if it's because I knew I would always follow Bradley everywhere even if that meant going in the sky.

It had been two days since Dad announced his team. It had been two days since I had talked to anyone, I had barely eaten or slept. I spend most of my time reading or today I found myself at Uncle Tom's grave.

"Hey Uncle Tom," I said softly, "a lot had happened and I miss you dearly." I sat and talked to him for a couple more minutes before wandering around. I knew my mom was buried here somewhere but it's been so long since I've visited so I am kinda just wandering 'till I find her.

I didn't expect to also find Uncle Nick and Aunt Carole in my search. I never went to Carole's funeral and wasn't around yet for Uncle Nick's but I always assumed they were buried closer to the hometown where they met, where Bradley was born. I sat down for a moment between them.

"Hi Aunt Carole, it's good to see you again. I know I have grown a whole lot since the last time you got to play with my hair or fix me some dinner after a long day. I promise we took care of Bradley the best we could, though he left about three days after you died and I don't know why. He won't tell me, actually, neither of them will."

I turned to Uncle Nick.

"Hi Uncle Nick, I'm (Y/N) Collette callsign Lemon." I smile, "I was named after you apparently, though we never got to meet your wife and son love me dearly and I assume you would too. I have heard all the crazy stories from way back when and I want you to know how amazing Bradley has become. He is a wonderful Pilot and an amazing friend. I hope Aunt Carole has told you about me otherwise I'm gonna look like an idiot but I have a feeling if she didn't Bradley or my dad did. I wish I could have met you, I feel like I would have made you proud, dad always says I am exactly like you." I smile before placing a hand on his stone, "You were an amazing man and by proxy, you have an amazing son." I bid them both farewell before moving on to find my mom, coming across her grave soon after.

Charlotte "Charlie" Marie Mitchell

A loving wife, mother, and daughter

09.12.1957 - 03.18.1995

"It takes a lot more than just fancy flying."

"Hi mom," I said softly, "dad is once again being an absolute idiot. I know if you were still here you probably would have agreed with him but still, it is really frustrating when he does stuff like this. I know you never wanted me to fly, and I know there is a lot of my life you are gonna miss because you aren't here anymore. Dad and I miss you terribly, but he's finally healing and moving on and I'm really proud of him for that. Penny is an amazing woman and Olivia and I get along fantastically. You woulda loved them. You woulda loved to see Bradley again too, and according to dad, he looks exactly like his father so there's that."

I hear footsteps approaching behind me.

"Hey, hon," Dad's voice comes out soft, "I know I have visited in a while I've been busy doing what I always did best. Pissing off the Admirals." Dad sat down beside me and threw an arm over my shoulder.

"I have already lost your mother Lem, I can lose my other girl too." I smiled and gave a small nod as we continued to sit and talk to mom, it finally felt like a family again.

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

The next day we had all loaded onto the boat, Bradley hadn't left my side since we got to the dock and I know it's because he was terrified he isn't gonna make it back from this.

I watched sadly as my dad and best friends prepared their jets for the mission I had no idea if I was ever gonna see them again and frankly I think they were probably thinking the same thing. Bernie graciously allowed me a moment with my dad once he was all situated in his plane.

"Please come home," I said with tears threatening to spill, dad gave me the smile he always did before missions, the one that said, "I'm gonna tell you a will but you know I can't make that promise." I smile back at him as I give him the best hug I can before jumping down and heading swiftly over to Bradley, just to catch him right before the cockpit closes down.

"Lem," He began softly his bottom lip quivering a little.

"Don't," I say, "not now, you're coming home. Please just come home, alive." I add causing him to let out a sad chuckle. I kissed him softly before watching as the glass lowered down, I give him one last look before stepping down from the ladder. I wave to everyone as the rest of the team prepares for the hell that's about to come.

One by one they take off, and after the final of the four leaves the boat I head to the control room with Bernie, as dad told him not to let me leave his sight while he was gone.

The mission had been successful so far but now they were reaching the point where a dogfight would ensue and we were all on the edge of our seats. Sure enough, as Dad came over suicide hill the missiles locked on, and there it was, the chaos of the air with pilots and missiles, guns and explosions. But none of that mattered because Bradley hit the target. The plant exploded from the bottom up and the control room cheered, now it was time for the boys to come home. But the happiness soon subsided when Bradley's voice came panicked over the speaker.

"Dagger One had been hit I repeat Dagger One had been hit."

Taglist!

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@daryldixonstorm

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@Nickie-amore

@malindacath

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@malindacath

[spectral-musette]

She touched his face, fingertips light along his temple, nails delicately scraping through the short beard on his cheeks, lingering on the cleft in his chin before resting on his mouth.

“I thought…” she began, but then choked on a soft sob as the tears began to run down her cheeks.

“I thought you would be angry,” he said instead, nuzzling his cheek against her hand and then kissing the palm.

“I am furious,” she assured him, tenderly. “I am incandescent with rage.” Her lips were against his, her breath uneven in his mouth.

Directly following the Deception arc (Clone Wars Season 4 episodes 15-18), Obi-Wan asks for Satine's forgiveness for letting her believe he was dead.

Just over 2000 words, M in AO3-style rating, probably part of a longer work if I can ever finish it and think of a title.

. . . . . . . . . .

Obi-Wan had not protested very much when Padme offered him the use of her family’s lakeside retreat in the aftermath of the attempted abduction of the Chancellor on Naboo. He had, however, expected a slightly more modest structure than the sprawling villa he’d found upon his arrival. Despite the droids on staff, the place seemed empty, hollow, as though it still echoed with the voices and laughter of a happy family. So fresh from his undercover work, he wasn’t sure isolation was the best remedy for his rumpled spirits after the ordeal, but arrangements had been made, and he supposed he could make the best of it for a few days.

In some ways, he was eager to leave Naboo. The memory of Qui-Gon’s death still cut like a keen-edged blade here. But perhaps that meant he should stay, to meditate on his old grief.

Painful as that prospect was, at least it sounded more surmountable than returning to a Temple that had been mourning him.

He’d have to, eventually. Anakin’s (justified) expression of betrayal and Ahsoka’s wounded demeanor still stung, and he didn’t look forward to repeating these painful scenes with other dear friends, with Luminara, or with Quinlan. But until the GAR red tape was untangled (at least a few days), he was still officially dead, and granted all the freedom of a wandering ghost.

He felt a little like the ghost of his old self after a quick swim as he climbed out of the lake onto the patio by the house. He sat heavily on the flagstones, still warm from the sun even as the stars were coming out. The constellations of Naboo seemed startlingly familiar considering the few times he’d seen them. The span of nearly 15 years felt short tonight. Perhaps it was the mere stubble of hair on his skull, shorter even than a padawan’s. Perhaps it was the ache of his old Master’s absence. He tried to ground himself in the present; as he toweled off his wet limbs, the ugly burn scars from his duel with Count Dooku shone pale in the moonlight, and his face still hurt from the dreadful biotech that had transformed him into the Mandalorian marksman.

It was always Mandalorians, wasn’t it? Proof that the Force possessed a sense of dramatic irony that the brethren of the woman to whom he’d lost his heart seemed to continually haunt him.

The guilt of it weighed like a stone on his chest. The mission had dragged on far too long for Satine not to have heard news of his apparent death. He had hoped it might all be resolved before… Well, it had been an unlikely hope, anyway. Padme almost certainly told her immediately.

There hadn’t been anything for it. To ask for permission to tell Satine the truth before the charade would’ve been tantamount to confessing his feelings for her. Had there only been the censure of the Council involved it might’ve been one thing, but any careless word to the Chancellor’s staff could’ve proven disastrous for Satine and the gossamer-fine line she walked to keep peace and authority on Mandalore. He’d been keeping her safe even as he wounded her.

Just like the old days, pulling her out of harm's way, or shielding her with his body.

Only this wasn’t an accidentally scraped knee or bruised arm. Perhaps it was vain of him to assume, but he knew how deeply she cared for him, how intense her feelings ran…

He’d tried composing a message to her so many times. Even still in the guise of Rako Hardeen, when he caught a moment’s rest, he’d gone over it in his mind, lulling himself into an uneasy sleep as he tried to find the words to ask her forgiveness.

In the end, a forthright Forgive me, was the best he could muster, hastily sent to her private channel as soon as he’d gotten access to a comm unit at the conclusion of the charade. If you’ll listen, I’ll try to explain, but nothing will excuse what I’ve put you through. Know that I am so very sorry.

She hadn’t replied. He checked the comm unit again as he pulled his undertunic over his head, the rough linen soaking up the last of the lake water on his back, seeing only his own message, stark and insufficient.

He didn’t blame her, truly.

He’d slept since sending it, through the afternoon, reveling a little in the luxury of resting when he felt tired, regardless of the local daytime cycles. And he dreamed in disjointed flashes, mostly of her… her grief, her melancholy, her ire… of the glint of tears on her dark gold eyelashes, the quaver of anger in her beloved voice.

He wasn’t sure if he ought to just sleep again, now that night was here. Weary as he was, he felt he could sleep for days.

He heard the door from the house to the patio open. He didn’t look immediately, as it seemed likely to be one of Padme’s droid caretakers, there to ask if he required food or clean linens. But there was no whirring of servos, and the footsteps on the flagstones sounded too soft. He caught a whiff of an achingly familiar floral scent just as he turned.

She must’ve been too much in his thoughts already, his mind too clouded with guilt and regret and weariness to clearly sense her presence.

But Satine stood, silhouetted by the dim illumination of the house, resplendent in the scarlet gown she’d worn the night they’d met in secret on Coruscant, though her hair was loose about her shoulders, pale and shimmering in the moonlight. For a moment she was utterly still, then she merely raised a hand to her mouth, stifling a soft gasp.

He scrambled to his feet, keenly aware that this was not the state in which he wished to appear before his lady. His trousers were still sopping, his undertunic open to the navel, and his hair had barely grown in longer than the stubble on his jaw. But her eyes were only on his, and shining with tears. She took a few steps towards him, then swayed a little. He lunged to catch her around the waist; the last thing she needed on top of all the rest of the suffering he’d caused her was bruised knees. She twined her arms around his neck, and his knees gave a slow surrender too, such that the pair of them sank to the flagstones, wrapped in each other’s arms.

She touched his face, fingertips light along his temple, nails delicately scraping through the short beard on his cheeks, lingering on the cleft in his chin before resting on his mouth.

“I thought…” she began, but then choked on a soft sob as the tears began to run down her cheeks.

“I thought you would be angry,” he said instead, nuzzling his cheek against her hand and then kissing the palm.

“I am furious,” she assured him, tenderly. “I am incandescent with rage.” Her lips were against his, her breath uneven in his mouth.

He tasted it in her kiss, a fleeting note of bitterness and sorrow amid the heady sweetness of her relief and joy, the fire of her desire.

“I am so very sorry,” he repeated, abject.

“Oh, I hope so,” she replied, breathless.

As usual, Satine had the last word, as neither of them could speak for some time after that.

. . . . . . . . . .

She lay on her side, half propped up on her elbow, her head against the pillow and her hair spread across it in a tangle of pale spun gold. The bedclothes were pooled around her waist, and he deeply felt the intimacy and vulnerability they shared in that moment. He thought this image of her would be vivid in his mind for the rest of his days, however long that might be: the pale morning light on her bare skin, her flushed cheeks, the glint of unshed tears in her eyes, the soft swell of her breasts with her sharp, uneven breaths as she tried not to cry again.

Finished with his abridged account of the awful ordeal, he reached out to run the backs of his fingers along her arm.

“Say something,” he begged.

She sat up a little more, her hair falling across her face as she wrapped her arms around herself and turned away from him.

“It might be… easier to accept, if you’d done it for the sake of someone … worthy of all this pain. To protect Anakin or Ahsoka or Padme or…”

“Satine, I can’t decline a mission to protect the Chancellor simply because I dislike the man.”

“It isn’t a matter of dislike. There’s something… so… wicked about him. Manipulative and scheming. Don’t say it’s because he tried to put troops on Mandalore, and don’t you dare say it’s because he’s a politician.” She turned back to him, her gaze challenging.

“No,” he agreed prudently. “I won’t say that. I don’t disagree with you. He’s been a mentor to Anakin and to Padme for as long as I’ve known him, but I can’t help thinking it’s always been somehow for his own benefit. He steered Padme to get himself elected in the first place, and his grip on the office has been white-knuckled since. I can’t very well blame him for the war, but despite his lipservice towards peaceful resolution, the GAR keeps swelling its ranks.”

“I’ll blame him. Unfortunately, there’s no evidence to confirm it aside from my gut feeling.”

He placed a hand on her waist, his thumb tracing around her navel. “I’ve learned to trust your gut feelings. But dislike him, distrust him or not, my duty is to the Republic.”

He started to pull his arm back, but she gripped it by the elbow. He slid his hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

“What of your duty to me?” Her voice was quiet, but not without a note of beskar.

“Is it duty?” he asked. “I thought it was love.”

“Perhaps it’s very Mandalorian of me,” she said, “that we hold our most sacred duties to be to those we love.”

“Satine, I cannot put my devotion to you above the will of the Council or the good of the Republic. Not while I serve the Jedi Order.”

He almost expected her to pull away in anger or distress, but she shifted closer, pressing her face against his shoulder. “I know that. I’ve always known that. But it hasn’t hurt like this before.”

“Not since I left?” he suggested, burying his face in her hair and holding her tightly.

“No. Not even then. It wasn’t losing you, it was letting you go. This was… like I had died too.”

The guilt of it made his stomach turn. “I am so sorry, Satine. If there had been time to find another way… to spare you this…”

“The worst of it is that you knew how it would hurt me,” she accused. “And you still did it.”

“I knew,” he confirmed, regretful. “The Chancellor insisted on knowing everyone who was privy to the plan, and I had no time to even find the opportunity to disobey. I thought… the risk of revealing that you should be told…”

She let out a breath, hot against his skin.

“I think I’d have much rather run that risk than think you were dead.”

“If I’d had time to think it through, perhaps I’d have decided differently. But everything was snap decisions, and my instinct was to protect you.”

“And I can’t even be angry at you for that.”

“Of course you can be angry,” he soothed.

“Oh, what good does it do?” she demanded, lifting her head, fair brow furrowed. “Just wasting time quarreling when we have so little time together anyway.”

“Then you forgive me?” he asked humbly, kissing her forehead.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, stroking his cheek. “I know that I still want you, though.”

“Then I am yours,” he promised, kissing her fingertips.

“At least it’s not an offense that’s very likely to be repeated,” she reflected, shaking her head a little.

“Not very,” he agreed.

“I feel like I ought to extract some promise… some penance. But I expect you’ve punished yourself enough.”

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “The thing itself was terrible too. Not that I’m suggesting that what I went through can compare to-”

“Hush, darling,” she scolded. “It can be terrible on its own.”

“Sometimes I thought my death might end up not being a lie after all,” he said softly.

“Do you want to tell me?” she asked, her fingertips light across his brow.

He shook his head. No, he didn’t want to see how it would pain her, to think of him in danger, forced to behave as an utter villain. “Not now. Not more than I already have.”

She kissed him then, deep and ardent. “Then forget, for a while,” she said, breathless, her lips still brushing his. “Let me forget again. Make me forget.”

She hitched her leg around him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he shifted onto her, into the blissful oblivion where she was the center of the universe and the Force sang in resonance with their love.

[alrightberries]

glimpse of me and you

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff. ❈ word count: 2.6k

❈ summary: It’s your first day out of the Underground District and on the surface. Levi helps you get settled.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity.

a/n: i would like to confess that i was in A Mood.

mini sequel: truly, madly, deeply

i. morning

The first thing you noticed was that it was bright. Too bright.

Not the kind of brightness you saw in the warm glowing lamps that littered the Underground District, but the kind that made your eyes squint and feel sore- like they were going to pop out of your head any time soon. Your hand slips out of Levi’s to block out the light hurting your irises.

He stops walking up the staircase and turns to look at you.

“Here.” He murmurs. He places down the boxes he was holding and takes off his green Survey Corps cape, draping it around your shoulders and clasping it at the front before drawing the hood over your face. The sunlight is no longer as harsh.

“Better?” He asks, and you nod.

“Much. Thank you, Levi.”

He hums in acknowledgement, one hand picking up the boxes with your luggage and the other one slipping through yours to slowly lead you up the staircase once more. He could tell from how you squeezed his hand and kept taking deep breaths behind him that you were nervous. He couldn’t blame you, either. He remembers being the same with Isabel and Farlan two years ago.

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since he was captured and taken to the surface. Since last saw your face and heard his name slip from your lips.

It took the better part of two years to barely scrape up enough money to buy you citizenship, but as he leads you through the stairway with your warm hand in his, he knows he wouldn’t hesitate do it all again.

For you.

“It’s going to be brighter once we reach the surface.” He says. The last step of the stairway was nearing. “I know you won’t, but close your eyes if you have to. You might get disoriented if you don’t.”

True to his words, you did end up getting disoriented because you refused to close your eyes. But really now, how could you? 26 years you’ve waited for this day to come. And you would be damned if you didn’t take everything in the second you set foot above ground for the first time.

As you reached the surface, Levi notices you flinching, turning your head away from the light and gritting your teeth once you set foot on the cobble stoned streets above. Despite your clear discomfort at the brightness, you made no move to close your eyes. In fact, you even braved to let them roam around.

“Stubborn dumbass.” He scolds quietly.

He leads you a little ways off from the exit of the stairway to put your stuff in the small wagon in front of you. The small wagon was drawn by a gorgeous black horse, and you realize that this was probably the beloved mare Levi spoke of in his letters.

“Is this Estreya?” You ask. Levi hums in agreement and takes the last box you were holding to place it with the rest of your luggage with a low grunt.

When he looks back at you he notices your eyes are still squinted, but your teeth were no longer gritted. The hood was still drawn over your face and one of your hands was still shielding your eyes from the burning light. You weren’t even going to lie, you were half terrified that your eyes were going to melt from how hot the sun was.

“Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

You scoff. “Yeah, because horses are really common in the Underground.”

He doesn’t reply to your quip. Though the way his eyebrows relax and his lips twitch up in the slightest doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Ride the wagon. You’ll fall on your ass if you try to go on horseback.”

“If you say so, Captain Levi.” 

It was now his turn to grit his teeth. He knew he shouldn’t have told you about his promotion.

“Tch, just get on. Or I’ll leave you stranded in Wall Sina.”

ii. noon

The wagon ride to Wall Rose was something you could only describe as ethereal.

You hadn’t the faintest idea the sky was so big and blue, and how fluffy the clouds seemed to be. The sky seemed to stretch for miles and miles, and knowing that there wasn’t a ceiling above you almost made you want to cry.

Wall Sina was beautiful, as well. Especially the market. The market you passed by almost made you want to stop the wagon and drag Levi from stall to stall to see what they had. They housed probably the most vibrant colored fruits and vegetables you’ve ever seen, and the smell of freshly baked bread made your mouth water. Not to mention, the air didn’t smell like moisture or piss or shit. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” He says, noticing your longing stare at the colorful tents. “You look like you’re about to jump off the wagon.”

“Will you leave me stranded if I do?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

Undoubtedly, though, your favorite view from the ride would be what Levi called “the suburbs.”

The tallness of the trees. The freshness of the air. The sounds of ruffling leaves. Birds and critters running around the ground and flying through the sky. The beautiful greens and blues were the biggest contrast to the drab grays and blacks you typically saw in the Underground District, and now you understood why Levi was so hellbent on taking you to the surface and never looking back.

“We’re almost there.” You hear him call out from in front of you.

Your eyes stop wandering around what Levi called a “valley”. You look past his figure sitting on the horse, spotting a castle made of bricks. It looked small from this distance but the closer you got, the more you realized that distance could be deceiving.

“Is that the Survey Corps’ base?” 

“No, it’s a fucking circus.” He replies sarcastically.

“What’s a circus?”

“It’s— nevermind.”

iii. afternoon

When you got to Levi’s private quarters, you didn’t hesitate to ask for a spare towel so you could take a shower.

You didn’t even bother kissing him or unpacking your things or… making up for lost time, if you will. Instead you made a beeline for the private bathroom connected to his bedroom and spent a good hour inside, talking to him through the door about how you’ve been looking forward to taking a proper shower all week. Levi had to drag you out and stop you from wasting more of the Survey Corps’ water reservoir.

“So, let me get this straight.” You mutter. 

You were sitting on his bed and he was sitting on a chair across from you. Your hair was still damp and your upper half was clad in a spare Survey Corps button down, while your bottom half was clad in nothing but your underwear.

Levi had complained that your clothes from the Underground were too dirty and would have to be washed. You called him rude, only relenting when he offered to do your laundry. But he wasn’t about to complain about the extra chores when it gave him this view.

“You’ve been captain for an entire year and only bothered to tell last week?”

“Yes.” Came his stoic reply.

“But why?!”

“I’m not hearing the end of this any time soon, am I?”

Before you could respond, Levi hears loud banging from his office door (which you noticed was connected to his bedroom) and he sighs as he wordlessly covers your bare legs with a blanket. Confused eyes met his, and all he could do was shrug as he heard the office door breakdown. The loud banging was now being directed at the bedroom door, the only thing separating you from what you assumed was some rabid raccoon.

“Levi motherfucking Ackerman!” You hear someone shriek from the other side of the wood. Okay, so maybe it’s not a rabid raccoon. “Open this door right this instant!”

You hear the lock clicking and the knob turning rapidly. Despite knowing you should probably be scared, you can’t help but smile at Levi’s clear irritation. It wasn’t the genuine kind of irritation. It was the kind he showed to Isabel— the one where he pretends to be annoyed but secretly enjoys their company.

“It’s not locked, four-eyes.” He replies.

Ah, so this must be the Hange he’s been complaining about.

“Then why can’t I open it?!”

“It’s push, not pull.”

Immediately, the banging stops, and silence takes over the room. But the silence is short lived when Hange suddenly kicks the door open and you jump from surprise. 

“Don’t think that I wouldn’t find out about you bringing a civilian to the base, Ackerman!” Hange points an accusing finger at Levi’s bored face. 

“I’d be more surprised if you didn’t. Considering I asked you to sign the authorization letter.”

The soldier ignores Levi’s quip and quickly makes their way over to you, sitting down next to your side and extending a hand.

“The name’s Hange Zoe, Section Commander of the Survey Corps. And you are?”

You warily accept their offer of a handshake. Your eyes briefly flit over to where Levi was still sat, relaxing a bit when he nods to your silent question of whether or not it was safe.

“Y/N.” You give them a polite smile. 

“When Moblit told me Levi brought a civilian to the base, I was ecstatic!” 

What the fuck is a Moblit? You wonder.

Your hands were still joined, and you weren’t sure if prolonged and drawn out handshakes were a custom of the surface. Not wanting to be rude, you continued to shake Hange’s hand, nodding along as they continued on.

“I didn’t peg shorty as the type to play boyfriend.”

“Neither did I.” You chuckled. “But he’s been more than wonderful. He’s more than I could ever ask for.”

Levi bites back the smile teasing his lips.

“Stop shaking Hange's hand. You’ll catch rabies or some shit.”

iv. evening

It was nearing six o’clock when Levi finally convinced Hange to go away, but only with the promise that he would introduce you to his squadron later at dinner. Normally he’d detest the idea of sharing intimate details about his personal life, but as he listens to you ask question after question about the surface, he deems the small sacrifice was more than worth this small moment with you.

“You said the surface was going to be hot. Why is it so cold now?” You ask, settling into the bed. Levi lifts up the blanket and begins to lie down beside you.

“Because it’s almost night.” He says simply. “It’s hot in the day and cold in the night.”

“Is it always like that?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “It depends on the season.”

He feels you shift closer to him, lifting his arm up and placing it around your waist as your head rests on his chest. He takes a deep breath, and the smell that was so uniquely you fills up his lungs. He almost hums in delight because it’s been two years; he hasn’t had this in two years, and no force on earth could ever take it away from him again.

“Season?” You murmur, sleepy eyes staring into his. 

Levi immediately knows that you’re a bedtime story away from snoozing, and he figures the fatigue is to be expected. You were, after all, being introduced to too many things at once. And judging by the bags under your eyes, you were probably too happy about going to the surface to get any sleep last night.

“Yeah. There are four seasons above ground: winter, summer, spring, and fall. Right now, it’s spring.”

“Will you tell me about the seasons?” 

He feels you shift, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“You missed.”

You smile. A hand gently reaches out to grasp his chin, pulling his face towards yours to give him a gentle kiss. When you try to pull away, Levi pulls you back in.

“If you’re going to kiss me, do it properly.” He muses as your lips broke apart. The arm wrapped around your waist holds onto you a little tighter as you relax to his side once again, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. His thumb rubs small, gentle circles into your arm.

“The flowers bloom in spring. Everything blooms.” He explains. “In fall, the temperature gets colder so the leaves start changing colors.”

“What colors do they become?”

“Mostly brown or orange.”

You nod.

“In winter, that’s when things start getting really cold. Colder than the Underground. Snow starts falling and everything gets covered in it. It’s annoying.”

“But don’t you use winter as an excuse to... y’know, convince your bosses to spend more money on tea leaves?”

It was now his turn to nod, and you merely let out a chuckle. He feels your breath fanning against his neck and he doesn’t stop his head from lulling into yours. He really did miss having you in his arms.

“Figures.” You yawn. “You’re obsessed with that stuff.”

He feels a sleepy kiss press against his collarbones, and he places a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Get some sleep.” He murmurs. “I’ll wake you up for dinner.”

“But you haven’t told me about summer yet.”

A small smile makes its way to his lips, and Levi was thankful that you couldn’t see. He’d never hear the end of your teasing if you did.

“If I tell you, will you stop annoying me?”

“Possibly.”

“Okay.”

v. midnight

The first thing Levi notices is that it was dark. Too dark. 

A brief glimpse out his open window confirms his suspicions that it was, indeed, night time. He probably slept through dinner.

The second thing Levi notices is that his entire right side was numb and there was a heavy weight on his body, some of it crushing his arm. He hears your sleepy voice mumble his name in your sleep, and he relaxes once he remembers the events of today.

He kept his promise.

You had an entire future ahead of you, and Levi’s heart warms at the thought. Sure, you were a civilian who couldn’t stay in the Survey Corps base forever; and he should probably start helping you job hunt so you could both start saving up for a new house. He’d fight you tooth and nail if you tried to join the military though, and something tells him you probably wouldn’t listen.

But he kept his promise. And that’s all that mattered for now.

He hears you shift in his arms before taking a sharp inhale, and your eyes sleepily open. They glance around the room, trying to remember where you were, before landing on him. A small smile teases your lips, adoration blossoming in your heart at the man in front of you.

“What time is it?” You softly ask. One of your hands reaches out to rub your eyes before he feels a warm palm come to rest on his stomach.

“Late.” He replies. His free hand lands on your soft cheek, and he tilts your head down so he can kiss your forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

You only nod, too tired to argue. You break free from his grasp and Levi is momentarily disappointed when you turn the other way. But then your hand reaches out behind you to sling his arm over your waist, and he shifts closer when he realizes you wanted to spoon.

“So I don’t kill your arm.” You explain quietly.

Levi presses his chest to your back and his leg wraps around yours. His nose is buried into the crown of your hair and he couldn’t help but take a deep inhale and close his eyes. Your hand intertwines with the one slung around your waist, and he feels you lift up your conjoined hands to place a kiss to his knuckles.

“I love you, Levi.”

This time, Levi doesn’t bother to hide his smile. It wasn’t the first time you’ve said I love you, and it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. But it would never cease to amaze Levi how just three short words could turn his stoic and uninterested demeanor into one of smiles that reached his eyes. 

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“Marry me.”

mini sequel: truly, madly, deeply

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

[harrysgloves]

The Devil You Know

Harry Styles x Reader

Story Summary: CEO!Harry punishes reader in his office after catching her flirting with his coworker.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Language // This is just straight up p*rn // Daddy kink // Spanking (belt) // Oral Sex (male receiving) // Vaginal Sex // Anal Sex // Degrading // The slightest bit of choking // Probably a whole lot more that I’m missing // Not edited... sorry

Authors Note: Another work in progress finally DONE! YAY! Hope you guys like it! Feedback is always loved and appreciated so much! Thank you guys so much for reading. xx

>>><<<

Your high heels clicked against the cold marble tile of the lobby floor for the second time that day. Your billowing black winter coat hit your knees with every step you took towards the elevator.

You could have seen him earlier but his secretary swore he was busy. Like he could ever be too busy for you. You scoffed, a roll of your pretty eyes before telling this no-good conniving bitch what was up.

"Tell my daddy that his girl was here," You said, tongue wetting your lips as you leaned over her desk. Your perfectly manicured hands landing loudly over the papers she should have been working on instead of hitting on your man. "And just so we're very clear on something, sweetheart. He's not my father."

You turned on the spot, hips swaying just a bit extra as you marched yourself back down to the elevator. Grumbling under your breath the whole way. 

Who did she think she was? 

Harry was yours. Your daddy, your sweetheart, your boyfriend. You two had been together for years. Your name was tattooed in red ink on his wrist for fuck sakes but that sense of jealousy burned deep into the pit of your stomach. 

The vibration from your phone was the only thing that pulled you out of your thoughts to go up there and teach that girl a lesson on who ran the show around here. His picture flashed across your screen. You scoffed, ignoring the call, and shoving the phone back into your expense handbag. Yes, it was against his stupid rules to ignore his phone calls but you were pissed. He could go screw Karen, or Tina, or whatever her name was for all you cared.

"Bad day?" The sound of another voice in the elevator made you jump. You didn't even notice someone else in here when you got on. How long had he been watching you throw a fit?

"You could say that." You sighed, your back leaning against the cool metal of the elevator as it reached the bottom floor. Door opening to reveal the perfectly decorated lobby floor.

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't have bad days." He flashed a smile towards you when you chuckled, shaking your head at him. He was cute, you'd give him that, but he was no Harry.

"I'll keep that in mind." You said as you started to walk out in front of him. Until your heel caught on the ledge of where the elevator met the floor. Your hands desperately trying to catch onto something before you hit your ass on the ground. You weren't dressed to be falling. A small silk camisole dress paired with no underwear didn't make for a good look if you landed with your legs wide open right now. 

Plus, that pretty pink plug Harry had fucked into your ass that morning before leaving you wanting and needy didn't exactly seem like the best thing to be landing on.

The hands around your waist was the only thing that saved you from mortifying public embarrassment. Your arms against his toned chest as he held you inches from the ground.

"Thanks." You breathed out, a cheeky smile on his face when he lifted you back to your feet.

"Well," he said, his arms still on the small of your waist. "I'm part-time broker, full-time knight in shining armor."

You laughed that big deep luscious laugh that made Harry fall in love with you. Your hand ran over his chest to lay back down the collar of his suit that you had grabbed. You backed away without a second thought, thanking him yet again before leaving the building. 

Not once seeing Harry's fuming face staring you down from the stairwell.

>>>

"Kristen?" Harry asked as he exited his office. His eyebrows scrunched together when he opened his door to see the new girl sitting there with no you in sight. He could have sworn he heard your voice.

"It's Catherine." She corrected what he assumed to be a flirty look crossed her face as he stood in front of her desk.

"Right. Anyway, was a girl jus' out 'ere looking fo' me?" He asked, describing you down to what you were wearing for the day. The mental picture of you sauntering around the apartment in that fucking dress when he didn't have the time to do what he really wanted to do to you that morning played in his mind.

"Uh, well, someone was but she ran off pretty quickly." She lied with a shrug of her shoulders. Harry's eyes narrowed at her when her cheeks flamed red. 

Why did he always end up with the crazy assistants?

"Y'sure 'bout that?" He asked again, his hardening stare made her splutter and crack as he rounded her desk to stand directly in front of her.

"You were busy, Mr. Styles, I sent her away." She mumbled, her eyes flashing away from him when he cursed under his breath.

He already knew what you'd be thinking. His hands fished in his suit pocket for his phone to press your icon. One ring, two rings, voice-mail. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of how insecure you could get sometimes.

Not like you ever needed to be insecure. He thought you were a total knockout. Plus, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you.

"Y'can pack up yeh things." He said as he slid his phone back into his pocket. Her eyes widened at his words, fake apologies started, but he didn't care. He only wanted to make sure you were okay. He needed to reassure you that you had no reason to feel insecure or jealous.

You were the only girl for him.

His fast steps down the stairs got him to the lobby in no time. Whatever thankfulness he had to catch you before you left was gone the second he saw that bastard touch you. 

He swore his eyes could have shot flames through that curly headed asshole. His chest pounded with a rage he didn't know he could feel when you laughed. God, that fucking laugh. His tongue wet his lips before his teeth ground together. 

You touched him. Your hands ran down his chest, smoothing out his suit, like you'd done for him so many times. Your fingers lingered a second too long. The guys hands tightened into the fleshy curves of your hips a little too much, pulling you in closer to him before you eventually walked off.

Your bouncing ass caught the attention of the guy who had touched you. Shameless staring at his fucking girl while you walked out of the building. He had to repeatedly remind himself that he couldn't beat the shit out of his own employees. 

His fist unclenched when you were long gone. He brought his phone out once again to send you a text.

My office. 7pm.

>>>

You stormed through the lobby, up the elevator, not paying any mind to the people around you. Ready to burst into an angry monsoon of jealousy, when the sight of his empty receptionist desk stopped you in your spot. Her things, gone. A baron desk with no sign of a girl simply gone for the evening greeted you.

He'd fired her.

Suddenly, the anger you'd had bubbling in your stomach faded. Replaced with that sinking feeling of guilt. He always seemed to know what was bothering you, even before you talked to him about it. Which was just another one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as your hand laid on the doorknob, knowing he was going to be upset with you. It took everything in you to swing open the door to his office exactly at 7 on the dot. Not a minute early but not daring to be late after your little show of ignoring him earlier. 

His stiff demeanor screamed you were in trouble as you shut the door behind you. You swallowed thickly, heels clicking hesitantly against his floor as you made your way to his desk. Your fingers skimming the dark oak wood as you moved around to stand in front of him. Your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you glanced down to see he hadn't moved a muscle.

No words had been spoken through the tense air. No sound dared to come from you. You knew better, knew how upset he got when you ignored him. So you stood, perfectly still in front of where he sat, your sight hyper focused on the scratch marks on his desk instead of his intense eyes.

You'd have to be easier on this desk in the future but you had a feeling today wasn't going to be the day.

"Got somethin' to say fo' yehself?" His voice was hard, leaving no room for your shit tonight. You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat as your eyes finally met his. They were colder than you'd ever seen before. 

Usually, when you acted out, he found a bit of humor in it. Teasing you about being nothing but a brat but always letting you know he wasn't going to put up with it. He always went easy on you and honestly, you were a good girl. You almost never broke the rules and when you did, it was something trivial.

You were never one to get in trouble on purpose, at least not with him.

"I'm sorry I ignored your call." You tried to say in the least shaky voice you could manage.

He hummed, acknowledging your words but not accepting your apology. Those dagger like green eyes burned through your body, directly into your soul as his thumb twisted his gold ring on his pointer finger. 

"Anythin' else y'need to tell me?" He asked as he raised from his chair. His large chest mere centimeters away from your face as you stood your ground, literally. 

"No?" Your eyebrows scrunched as you peered up to him. Utterly confused on why he was so pissed at you. 

The sharp stone like features of his face didn't help settle the racing thoughts in your mind. That cold chill that ran down your spine as his lips pressed into a hard line. The back of his hand as it skimmed across the highs of your cheek bone was the only feeling of warmth in the otherwise frigid room.

"Know why I got y'this?" His finger ran across the pink leather of your choker collar, across the gold "H" that was embedded in the middle.

Your big doe-eyes flashed up to him. You didn't sway an inch as his fingers laced through the ring that dangled at the bottom of your choker. His grip was firm around the cool metal. His hold kept in place as he stared down at you.

"Because I'm yours." Your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked at him, not having a clue as to why he needed to remind you. 

You gasped as he tugged you forward by your lead. Your feet barely stayed in their spot on the ground as your hands grasped around his arms for balance.

"And do you think I like what's mine flirting in the elevator with my employees?" His words shocked you, stuttering, spits of partial words fell from your mouth as you gaped up at him. "Think I didn't see?"

"Harry, I wasn't flirting with him." You tried to explain away the situation. It was simple, a misunderstanding. "He helped me when I-"

"Did I say y'could use my name?" He practically growled through clenched teeth. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. Boy, were you in trouble.

"No, daddy." Your voice was soft, eyes all dewy as you stared up at him. A show, really, you loved when he got like this. That familiar ache already growing in your core as he dropped the lead on your collar. You quickly stood back up in your place, hands by your side as he stalked around you.

A hunter watching his prey.

"What's y'word?" He asked as he circled back in front of you. His suit jacket was abandoned over the back of the chair. Ringed finger hands loosening his tie around his neck.

"Peony." Your tongue wet your lips as he rolled up his sleeves in front of you. The crisp white linen of his shirt sleeves being rolled up was only a slight distraction from the nod of his head.

"And your hard no's?" 

He wasn't fucking around. You considered it for a second, all the things you two had previously taken off the table. 

"Still the same." You told him, knowing that this meant he was really going to push you tonight. 

He studied you for a second longer. His head dipping down to catch your line of vision, eyebrows raised as if he was mentally asking you the same question again.

"Good." He said when you gave a nod of your head. "Strip."

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. Your hands shook by your side as you clenched and unclenched your fist, once, twice, three times. Just enough to get you in your head space.

The skin on your arms raised in goosebumps as the warm fur lined jacket slid off your shoulders and onto the floor. A pile of useless fabric pulled into a puddle at your feet. Your slip of a dress followed directly after it. 

A scoff of a laugh came from him, a shake of his head as he turned away from you. Long, silent, steps over to a much-needed drink from the bar cart in his office. Your eyes lowered to the floor, watching the pacing of his shoes. Ears zeroed into the sound of liquid pouring, a deep gulp, and then more pouring. That lump in your throat grew with every slap of his heel back in front of you.

Of course you had to pick today to be defiant.

"It's like y'wanna be in trouble, baby." He hummed and you swore if you looked at him right now he'd be wearing that smug little smirk. 

"Pretty." He mumbled, his fingers dancing across the lacy top of the underwear you'd slipped on when you got home. "Too bad yeh not 'posed to be wearin' 'em."

"Off." He snapped his fingers in front of your heated face. At least he wasn't ripping this pair. 

The stringy lace slid down your silky smooth legs. Each high heeled foot stepping out of the leg holes one at a time. Shaky hands handing over the garment you put on in a moment of anger. 

Your eyes refused to meet his as he slid the panties into his back pocket. Your lips rolled into your mouth as he stared at you. The heat in your body raised with each passing second as he finished his drink. 

God, you'd never been in this much trouble.

"Y'know I was gonna take it a little easy on yeh." His words and the sound of the glass being sat down snapped you out of your fixed trance on the floor. His shiny black shoes disappeared from your line of sight as he circled around you. "Figured my baby girl jus' got protective over her daddy."

His hand ran down your cheek from behind you. Your head instinctively nuzzled into the few fingers that trailed from your jawline to your lips. Chaste kisses pressed to his fingertips.

"But now, I see you need a good lesson on who makes the rules." You gasped when his hand clamped around the front of your neck, your head snapped back roughly against his shoulder. His fingers digging into the side of your neck made you whimpered, a low stirring in your stomach.

His hand released you only long enough to loosen his tie. The fabric you once gifted him for his birthday dug into the skin of your forearms and wrists behind your back. The restraint, a little tighter than usual, not enough to hurt but enough to let you know this wasn't some usual punishment. 

"Bend." He said with a tight grip on the tie that held your arms in an uncomfortable position behind you. Your body maneuvered by him until your hips hit the edge of his desk. You gasped as your bare chest was pushed against the cold wood. Your nipples peaked from the sudden ice like material that you now laid halfway over. His hand finally left the intricate knots holding your arms back when your cheek rested on the table top.

"Looks like y'know how to listen when it comes to this." You could imagine his eyes rolling as he stood behind you. His hand ran down your ass, to the plug he'd placed there this morning. A quick tug on the pink silicone drew a whimper from you, your legs shifting back and forth in their spot.

Harry had to hold back a groan as he watched your hips sway. His hand gripped his twitching cock that throbbed in his pants at the sight of your pretty wet pussy already soaking for him. A smirk spread across his lips, his hand gripping the flesh of your round ass again.

His perfect little baby girl was such a whore for him.

Fuck, you were perfect.

"Thinkin' three fo' 'ry rule yeh broke today." His accent somehow thickened the more turned on he got. That heat burned in your stomach that turned in anticipation and a bit of nerves.

"Y-yes, daddy." Your voice betrayed you with shaky cracks. 

The room quickly quieted again after his hum of approval. His hand left your ass, left you completely. Silence had you straining your ears for any hint of a sound when you heard it. 

That familiar clink of a sound.

You buried your head into the smooth surface of the table, lips pressed against the wood to hide the moan that wanted to slip past your lips. Your core clenched around nothing but air, not sure how this was anywhere close to a punishment when you constantly had to beg him to be this rough with you.

You gasped as the cool leather of his belt ran down the strain muscles of your back. Tauntingly slow as it passed over the fabric of the tie, dancing across your fingers.

"What're in trouble fo'?" He asked from behind you, your lips that had been tightly clamped between your teeth unrolled, just enough to talk.

"Not answering your call, wearing underwear, using your name, and-" you sighed, "Touching another guy." You finally spit out, not wanting to add anymore lashings to your ever growing amount. 

"Hm, think'll add three more fo' that one." His voice was hard and cold through the air around you. "Better hear yeh count, sweetheart."

He gave no warning other than that. The sound of the leather slicing through the thickened air in the office was your only clue of what was coming. The sharp snap of the hide hitting the soft flesh of your ass rang through your ears before you felt the sting. 

"One." You spoke into the wood. Your nose flat against the desk, hands tightening around your restraint as the shockwaves of a dull pain ran down your spine, directly to your steadily wettening folds. 

Two, three, four, more and the spark of a pleasure still burned, lingered down into a blazing river of red marks across your ass cheeks to your pulsating pussy.

"T-t-ten." Your words choked and contracted in your throat when the belt smacked across your ass, five more left and you were determined to make it through. The grunts and groans that rolled from deep in his chest as the leather dug into your flesh again and again. Whimpering sobs, face flushed with tears and mascara as he went harder on you than ever before.

And that fucking plug you decided to keep in.

You were teetering on the brink of your headspace when the final smack came. Your breast smashed against the now warmed surface with the force. You cried, pushed forward into that floating sensation of the deep part of your mind as you were lifted by your restraints. Body maneuvered until you kneeled before him, heels haphazardly kicked off in the motion downwards to the ground.

The searing skin of your ass cooled against the marble floor when your shaky legs gave out to the weight on them. You sighed from the little bit of relief you got, stuffy nose from crying so much, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs. You were too wrapped up in yourself to hear the clank of the belt hitting the floor.

Your foggy mind lifted out of the deep when you felt his hand around the back of your neck, his cold features barely broke through your vision that was clouded with tears.

"What do y'say, baby?" His hand tightened in the hairs at the back of your head. A hard jerk backwards had you gasping in surprise.

You were far from being done with your punishment.

"Thank you, daddy." Your voice cracked from the amount of tears you were holding back. The words you'd spoken did nothing to change his unimpressed facial features, his tongue slid across his front teeth as he studied your mess of mascara and eyeliner.

He stood up abruptly, his hand didn't leave the back of your neck, sufficiently holding you up from your ass resting on the cool tile. 

"Yeh know, darlin', daddy doesn't punish yeh as much as he should. That's on me more than yeh. Should've put yeh in y'place more often, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened up to him. Whatever shred Harry always kept of himself while he was in this role was abandoned. No, now, he was fully in his dominant role. The waves of demand rolled through every part of him. His voice, his demeanor, his words.

"That's okay though, baby, gonna learn who yeh belong to. Isn't that right?" He practically cooed at you. A mock tone that made your face heat as blood rushed to your face. 

"Yes, daddy." Your chest seemed to heave with anticipation.

"Open." He said as his hand clamped your mouth open for you. Your obedient tongue sticking out for him before you even had a chance to think twice about it. 

Harry hummed as he stared down at you. The hand that was around your jaw slipped into your open mouth. His finger fucked into your open and waiting throating. Your legs tightened together as his smirk grew wider at your movement.

Sure, you weren’t supposed to move but God, you always wanted it so bad he couldn't help the turning of his lips.

He lowered himself to your level. No words were said as he loosened your restraints. The fabric that held your arms back finally, finally, was gone. Your body slacked forward as Harry backed away from you. His towering form loomed over you as your hands fell forward to hold yourself up.

The strain on your muscles in the back seemed to lift only momentarily before he guided you upwards by your upper arm. Your back on the now warmed surface of the desk, your head hanging off the side, your freed hands clutched beside you as your anticipation for what was coming grew.

"Gonna show me how sorry yeh are, darlin'." His throbbing cock was finally released from its confinement. The hard, pulsating, tip was red and aching for relief. Only millimeters from your upside-down vision. 

Your legs spread wider at the sight of him. Your toes pointed against the smooth oak, your arousal felt like it could have been running in a river down your legs as you licked your lips. Your mouth opened without any demand from him as he stroked his cock in front of you.

"Good girl." He groaned, his hand guided himself into your mouth.

You always had a hard time taking him. He was just so big, so thick. Your tongue pressed against his tip as he slowly rocked into you. His hands grasped onto your breast as his cock slid further and further down your throat.

You moaned around his member that stretched open the sides of your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat, breathe through your nose.

"Relax yeh throat." He grunted as your throat constructed around him again. The irritated tone in his voice only made your slick folds drip with your arousal.

"I said to relax." He said once your gag reflex halted his movement for a third time. A harsh slap of his hand landed on your open and waiting cunt. You would have yipped at the feeling if you could have. He ceased your moment of being off guard to finally push himself fully inside.

You moaned the best you could as your throat finally relaxed. His balls rested against your nose, the crotch of his pants and zipper rubbed against your face but you didn't care. He felt so good in your mouth. 

You heard him let out a moan as you felt your nipples harden. His fingers lazily rubbed at your swollen clit as he slipped down your mouth.

"Why can't yeh be a good girl like this all the time for me, baby?" He asked as his hand held the back of your neck. His hips picking up to a pace that was almost too much for you. "So much fuckin' better for me when yeh jus' a hole for me to fuck." 

He pulled out of you suddenly. A string of your spit connected from his red tip to your mouth before he bent down to your level. The look behind his eyes was intoxicating. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

"Gonna have to keep you tied up to my desk, aren't I? Only time yeh good for me if when yeh have a cock stuffed in you." 

"I'll be good." You said as he stood back up. His hands gripped your thighs to turn your body around like a rag doll, your ass in the air as your face laid on the desk, again.

"Be good, huh?" He teased his tip against your opening, a deep groan left him from just how fucking wet you were. "Yeh call throwin' yehself at my employees bein' good?" 

"I didn't." You pouted, your bottom lip stuck out even though he couldn't see it. His cock parting the folds of your pussy, the thick tip against your sensitive clit had your hips shifting. 

You wanted him to stop being mad at you and just fuck you already.

"If I wanted someone else to touch yeh I would have told them to." He started to slip into you, the overwhelming sense of him starting to stretch you already filled you. Blood rushed to your lightheaded head as you restrained yourself from pushing backwards onto him.

"Such a tight cunt." He grunted as the thought from your earlier run in fell from his mind. Your velvet caves pulled him, his anger melted away as you clenched around him.

A hard thrust forward had him directly on your sweet spot, your eyes rolled back in your head as you held on tightly to the front of the desk. 

He wasn't messing around and he wasn't holding back.

You could feel his hip bones smacking against the abused flesh of your ass. The sting sent an electric shock through your body as he wrecked you. You could feel him pounding all the way into your lower stomach as your jaw unhinged from a sea of moans.

"Think he could fuck yeh better, sweetheart?" Harry asked as he pulled on the plug in between your cheeks. His cock rammed into you as the silicone slipped out.

"No." You finally managed to get out an answer through your moans, your wrecked vocal cords cracked until he let up. You almost turned around but you knew better, the sound of his bottom draw opening gave away his next move.

You two needed to fuck at his office less. He had way too much sex shit laying around here.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the cold gel of his lube coated fingers slipping into your tighter hole. Your breath caught in your throat as he slid back inside of your pussy. Your eyebrows furrowed together from the overwhelming sense of pleasure that pulsed through your veins.

"Such a slut, know that?" He spoke as a second finger joined his first one, fucking you open enough to take him. "Lemme fuck yeh in ever hole in my office." 

"Fuck." You moaned into the wood, your hands gripped around the front edge of the desk as he pulled himself out of you, a generous amount of lube slathered across your hole before he put some on himself. 

He took a second just admiring your wrecked state. Your pussy opened wide for him, able to be fucked so easily now that he'd destroyed it. Your ass shined red with lash marks, your hair a complete mess.

He had to stop himself from shooting a load into his own hand. His thoughts getting the best of him as he stroked himself from behind you. His tip pressed into you slowly as he waited for your muscles to relax.

You felt like you could have bit your bottom lip off from how tightly it was tucked under your teeth. Your nails dug into the desk as he pushed further into you, his head finally getting past your tight ring. His hips laid flat against your ass, his hands pulled back each cheek to get a good look at himself stretching you out.

"Gonna ruin you for anyone else. Y'understand?" He mumbled into your ear as he pulled up to his chest by the front of your neck.

"Yes, daddy." You squeaked out as he finally moved his hips. His head rested against your shoulder as you let out a sound you never wanted to admit to making. His cock hit all the right places, the stretch wasn't painful but you were so tight there you could feel every one of his veins pushing against your walls. 

You felt so full of him it was almost overwhelming. You could feel every throbbing jump of his cock as he pumped in and out of you. His grunts as his teeth dug into your shoulder, his fingers from his free hand swirled around your clit while his other one squeezed the sides of your neck.

Your arousal slicked all the way down to your shaky knees as your body bounced against his cock. You panted out moans as your body burned red hot. Your orgasm was just on the horizon, so close you could hardly keep your eyes open.

"Gonna cum with daddy's cock in yeh ass?" He asked even though you had no idea how he managed to put together words in this moment. Your own mind wasn't able to let you do anything more than nod.

"Cum for me then, pet." His finger pressed down harder on your clit, cock shoved deeper inside of you. 

Your vision blacked around the edges, body shook, your high washed over your head all the way down to your toes. The sound of your moans carried through the office, down the halls of the almost emptied building. Your mind barely had time to put together the fact he'd pulled out of you.

Until he slammed back into your cunt. 

A warmth filled you as you whimpered, your body slacked in his arms as his cum dripped out around himself. 

"I gotcha." He mumbled as he moved you both into his office chair. Your makeup smudged face pressed into his chest as you came down from your high. His hand ran across your back in soothing circles.

"Baby, yeh did so good." He said into your hair, his lips pressed in light kisses against your scalp. "Such a good girl. Made me feel so good, baby."

"Gonna take yeh home and get yeh a bath, hm?" He asked when your body felt less limp. You hummed your agreement, head still in that floating space for a second.

"Harry, you know I didn't flirt with him, right?" You asked after a moment. Your fingers danced across his bicep absentmindedly.

"Yeah, jus' like yeh know I didn't sleep with my secretary." He let out a chuckle when you raised your head to pout at him. "Gave me a good reason to fuck yeh like that though." 

"Shut up." You muttered to him. Your eyes rolled as he gave you a stern look.

"Pup, I jus' fucked yeh into next week, do not start with me again."

[thegirlwhowritesawksh-t]

point of no return (georgenotfound x f!reader)

author: me! @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t​

word count: 3.6k +

warnings: maybe a bit of angst, hella fluff? if there’s any you think you see, let me know!

A/N: first off: hi guys! this is my first fic ever (i’m a noob lmao), so please be gentle! i am in the process of writing some more about whoever I feel like simping for next... probably still George, mi amor *kisses* and second: to whoever’s reading this: stay hydrated, smile and laugh! let me know what y’all think! *sending besitos to y’all :))

Sometimes it was hard to find the words to say I like you, much less, “I love you”. For (y/n), it was easy to say it to anyone. Friends, family, ex boyfriends. Everyone. Everyone but him. Pacing across her room in the flat she shared with George, all she could feel were her nerves on edge. Down the hall, in his own room engaging in a do not laugh match with Dream in Minecraft, George sits oblivious to the predicament (y/n) has currently placed herself in.

Her phone chimes with an incoming text from the man invading her thoughts -

GogyBogy: just about to finish up with Dream. movie night? your choice?

She can’t help but let out a soft scoff, but smiled and typed a yes back, slowly getting ready to head downstairs to make the popcorn and pull out the assortment of films to decide to watch.

It’s not like she knew that she was attracted to him the whole time. It had only been recently, when George decided to attempt a cooking stream, and all she could do was focus on how he had spent time looking for the best outfit for the stream.

“I have to look like I know what I’m doing, you know, I’m Chef George!”, letting out a giggle as he perfects his outfit. Maybe it was how he looked in his outfit, or maybe it was how his hair looked soft to run her hands through. One thing she knew for sure: like a shit ton of bricks, she was over the moon for him, and she just realized that now.

Since her earth-shattering realization, (y/n) has tried her best to remain cool and collected around George. There have been a few mishaps, though. One incident in mind merely happening just this morning. >>>

Cooking eggs in a skillet, (y/n) hums lyrics to a popular song, eyes closing every so often fighting to stay awake. Finding plates for two, she starts to flip the eggs, humming louder each passing minute, only loud enough to fill the empty room. Lost in the focus to flipping the eggs, she fails to notice George trudging in, pulling another late night editing videos for his YouTube channels.

“Isn’t it a bit early to be singing?” George mumbles, as she pauses mid-song. “How else am I to wake? It’s either I hum, or I blast some album full blast on Spotify. Want to listen to One Direction then? They have the Best Song Ever” (y/n) chuckles.

“Touché”. He remarks, (y/n) laughs and deciding that the eggs are fully cooked, she plates them, and adds garnish, consisting of pepper and a pinch of salt.

“Do you want tea?” (y/n) asks, as George responds with a yes.

“Can you get the mugs then? I’ll start heating water in the kettle” she asks as she starts looking for the kettle.

“Mugs are already on the table, and I’ve just grabbed the kettle. Let me do it, you’ve made breakfast this morning.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m right here already- “ (y/n) says as George quickly moves to the sink, filling up the kettle with water. “Don’t worry! I am an expert on making tea, (y/n)” George states, with a scoff rolling off of (y/n)’s lips.

“Right, and I’ll be the next Queen of England” she snorts, finally pleased with her creation. Turning around to put the finished masterpiece on the table, she jumps back realizing that George is right in front of her.

“What the heck!?” she asks as she’s still balancing the two plates on her hands. George only stifles a small smile.

“I told you, I’ll make the tea”, he replies. (y/n) opens her mouth to object with something snarky when all thoughts have gone out the window.

George, in the midst of heating the kettle, leans forward unconsciously holding onto (y/n)’s waist, as he reaches behind her to place the kettle on the burner next to the previously used skillet. Not only does she feel him grasping her waist, it then emphasizes that she’s trapped between the stove and George. So much for avoiding feelings, (y/n) thought.

He returns to his previous position, not yet letting go of (y/n)’s waist. Whether it be on purpose or on accident, (y/n) couldn’t tell for the life of her, she was focused on not dropping the plates of eggs. (y/n) then quirks an eyebrow, as if questioning why he’s still in front of her, holding her waist. George can only look back at her in confusion, eyebrows furrowing.

“I didn’t think you were clumsy to the point you decided to hold onto me”, (y/n) mutters as George’s eyes widen, hand dropping to his side as quick as he placed his hand on (y/n)’s waist. Just as quick as he dropped his hand, (y/n) felt immediate loss on what seems to be like her burning waist.

(y/n) can’t help but look down at the plates of eggs, no doubt that they started to cool off before she glances at his hand. The hand that held her, of course. Cheeks blushing, she attempts to side step at the same time as he does. He laughs and tries to side step in the opposite direction, yet she can’t help but make the same mistake again. Hearing George giggle at the latest mishap, (y/n) tears her eyes away from his hand the eggs to look up at him.

Her breath once again hitches at the close proximity between the two. She can’t help but glance at his hair, smiling at how messy his waves look. Looking lower, she stares at his eyes, his eyes staring back with humor, probably to their blunders only moments ago. With eyes slowly decreasing of crinkles, he takes a small breath, just pausing as he looks at (y/n) with renewed curiosity. (y/n) slowly starts to glance even lower, settling at just his lips. She sees words coming out of his mouth, yet she’s zoned into the idea if her lips would mesh well with his. Maybe it’s her imagination, but George seems to pause and reciprocate the idea of looking at (y/n)’s lips, licking his bottom lip slightly to ease the dryness that seemed to fill the air.

Minds contemplating, (y/n) decides to inch her face closer to George, with George seeming to think the same. - Just a few more milli-

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH! The tea kettle whistles and George immediately jumps back, at a loss for words. Embarrassed at his sudden action, (y/n) hangs her head down, and mumbles out,

“I- I uh think I’ll have the tea later. Enjoy your breakfast. Wait, lun-, oh whatever”, (y/n) rushes out as she speed-walks to her room, with both cold plates of eggs, sweaty hands, and a confused George still holding onto the tea kettle, seemingly at odds with what just happened.

>>>

Maybe I’m just going crazy, (y/n) thought as she starts to heat up the popcorn. Quarantine is still in effect, and it has been a while since she’s seen other people. She’s only seen George and George only. Not that she minds, of course. With a sigh, she turns to the microwave, running her thoughts back to this morning, lost in her thoughts. Were we about to...?

“(y/n)!” George whispers. She whips her head around to see George standing in the doorway leading to the living room, a faint glow of yellow behind him. “Yes?” (y/n) asks as she takes the popcorn out of the microwave, cursing as she burns her hand on the paper bag.

“Isn’t it your choice tonight to decide on a movie?” He ponders, walking towards (y/n), her taking an instinctive step back. George raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question the sudden movement.

“I think so. How do you feel about Harry Potter?”

“Oh, come on! We watched Deathly Hallows Pt. 2 when you chose last time!” George groans as (y/n) moves past him into the living room, dead set on the film.

“So, we can start over again! Sorcerer’s Stone it is!”

“I don’t see how this- “ “George, please?”

Taking a moment to glance at (y/n), DVD in one hand, the other wrapped around her waist, George mutters a yes as she begins to put in the film.

“If we watch this, you’re playing Minecraft next time on stream”, he grumbles, grabbing a blanket to wrap around his body before settling onto the three-seater couch.

“I mean I suppose so…” (y/n) chuckles, grabbing another blanket and settles onto the couch. Only as she sat down did she realize she’s sitting in the middle of the couch, George sitting to the right of her.

“Didn’t we decide that you would sit on the left end of the couch and I would be at the other end, since you kick, and I tend to shuffle around a lot?” George smirks.

“I- “ (y/n) pauses. It’s true, she thought. She assumes she was happy choosing the film, that she decided to plop down beside him. Or so she thought. After taking a minute, she sighs and replies,

“Would you like me to mo- “ “No! It’s fine! Just unusual is all.” George says quietly.

“I can move if you want me to. I don’t have cooties, but I can move if you’d like.” (y/n) mumbles. Her heart slowly starts to beat faster with each passing second as silence begins to fill the room, the only light being the t.v. radiating in the background. Don’t make me move, George, (y/n) prays inside her thoughts.

After about a minute, George shakes his head.

“It’s fine. Sit!” He chuckles, before settling deeper into his spot. (y/n) breathes out a sigh of relief, thanking the heavens for him not noticing how much she’s blushing.

I’m fine, it’s just George, (y/n) repeats inside her head, no doubt failing. The movie begins to play, and (y/n) feels all of her worries fade away, smiling at watching her favorite childhood movie again. Relaxing deeper into the couch, her mind wanders back to the earlier memory of this morning again. Mind going numb with endless ideas, she failed to notice George’s arm tucked behind her head absentmindedly pulling her strands of her hair. He moves his hand slowly down to rest on her left shoulder, rubbing endless amounts of shapes, searing the imprint of warmth. Chest tight, she realizes the state she’s in with George, feeling the pressure raise higher as his hand remains there. (y/n) starts to sit frigidly, as if one wrong movement could set off dominoes. In this case, another awkward situation with the man she’s found herself lost for.

Where are we even in the movie? Really? Harry going to the zoo? Holy- (y/n)’s thoughts pause as George softly grips her shoulder - with her tensing up even more - before removing his hand to rest at his side, and (y/n) blushing at the sudden loss of contact. Cursing at her awkward being, she starts to readjust, hoping that George wouldn’t notice how wound up she is all from him. All from a shoulder touch, and she’s fully convinced she won’t ever recover from the man that is shy, sweet, confusing George. Still readjusting herself on the couch, she manages to cross her legs under her, holding onto George’s left thigh. Eyes wide, feeling George tense up, she manages to turn her head a bit to the side, to see George’s gaze on his thigh. (y/n) retracts her hand away.

“Sorry, you know how long these movies are…”, she mutters, cheeks flushing at the close contact. George can only cough and nod as he tries to focus back into the movie. I don’t know how much longer I can take this, (y/n) repeats into her head, trying to zone back into the movie.

>>>

How (y/n) was able to watch half of the movie without dying of embarrassment, she did not know. But she was thankful to appear normal in front of him, or so she would hope. Rigid with each movement, she felt scared making a move with the worry that she’d cause an uncomfortable situation. Yet, her head thought otherwise. I think I’d do just about anything for his warmth on me again, even if it’s just his hand on my shoulders, (y/n) thought.

The Golden Trio met Fluffy for the first time, and all (y/n) could think about (besides the man next to her) was going to Hogwarts, wishing it was real. The spells, the robes, Quidditch, everything about the universe has always called out to (y/n), and all she could do was endlessly hope it could potentially be a reality, even if she did look foolish for believing in that. George managed to discreetly glance to the side and see her dazed eyes zeroed onto the screen, and mouth moving to quote each line. All he could do was stare in awe, of her knowledge of this magical world, her persistence to memorizing each spell, and how there seemed to be a basking glow upon her figure. She looked like heaven, the epitome of warmth. What (y/n) couldn’t see was that he too, was enamored with her as she was with him.

George had an idea to test the waters. If she responded, he would continue. If she didn’t, he’d forget all about it and attempt to move on from the woman he was sure was the one. (y/n) saw from the corner of her eyes that George readjusted himself that while he was sitting casually beside her, he lowered his hand to rest on his thigh. Heart still stuttering, she lowers her eyes realizing that her thigh is directly next to his, mere millimeters from touching.

Rigid, she sits straight up, unintentionally knocking her thighs into George. She stares at their thighs, chuckles a bit and struggles to watch the movie again, knowing her thigh is definitely touching his thigh. With arms crossed against her waist, she can’t help but watch his hand in the mere hopes that it would ‘accidentally’ brush her thigh.

As she keeps her eye contact on his hand, George begins to tap his pinky finger on his thigh. He taps, wiggles, slides his pinky with his hand still resting on his thigh. While still resting his hand, he slowly starts to move his hand to the left, making it that his hand sat on part of his thigh, and the other part was on top of (y/n)’s thigh, starting to shyly tap his pinky on her thigh. Letting out a gasp, (y/n) could only freeze at his hand - no his pinky - tapping her thigh, and it’s already turning her into a nervous mess. What the hell is he doing to me?, (y/n) asks to herself.

If you go down this route, it’s past the point of no return…

But it’s worth it…

How can you even be sure if he feels the same?

(y/n) can’t help but engage in a battle with her thoughts before finally coming to a decision.

Yes.

With bated breath, she slowly moves her hands to rest on top of her thigh, the hand closest to George shaking slightly. With a bit more confidence, she begins to move her right pinky on her thigh, moving in contradicting patterns, just barely touching George’s thigh. Soon enough, their pinkies start to move in sync, and (y/n) can’t help but bask in his warmth, even if it’s just his pinky. So used to his pinky against hers, (y/n) eventually hooks her pinky against his, effectively stopping their movements.

George lets out a huff of air, and (y/n) freezes, overthinking that she went too far. A full two minutes pass, only hearing Harry Potter finding the Mirror of Erised, and silence from George himself. Getting ready to back off, she releases a breath and begins to retract her hand from George.

“Okay, I’ll just- “

George shuts her up with his hand on top of hers, effectively placing his hand of top of their thighs. He then releases a shuddering breath, only to be met with complete silence. (y/n) looks at their thighs, then their hands, then George, back to the movie, to him again. She starts to find the words, only to come out with nothing. What can come out of her mouth besides, your heart is all I need.

Taking a minute to regain her composure, she lowers her guard, opening her hand so slightly that his fingers fill in the spots in-between hers. With a soft smile, he slowly grips her fingers, starting to rub her thumb with his.

“I don’t think you understand how long I’ve wanted to hold your hand,” George mutters quietly, as if he were to speak any louder, he’d shatter the moment, whatever this moment is.

“And you think I haven’t?” (y/n) asks.

“I didn’t say that,” George pauses. “How would I know? There weren’t any signals, no signs or hints, (y/n).”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, George. I’m always scared of messing up around you now. I can’t breathe, knowing that we breathe the same air.  And how do you think I feel about us living under the same roof? I have to stop myself from tearing my hair out and- and stomping over to your room and just… confess. I’ve become desperate for your touch, yet I’m scared that if we pass that boundary, you wouldn’t feel the same! I mean, look at this morning, y- you- we almost kissed and you didn’t say anything! I assumed you just thought it was nothing, and we’d work past it. How is it not obvious that I’m in love with you!?” (y/n) blurts out, ripping her hand away from his, only for him to grip her hand again. Despite the nerves in her veins, she can’t help but relish in his hand still holding hers.

“Can you tell that my hands are shaking? Because they are, (y/n). Is it obvious that I don’t know what to do in situations like this? All I know is that just one look at you, I fall apart. I-I-I can’t begin to count all the times I’ve wanted to hold your hand. And that’s just holding your hand. Kissing you, calling you my Love, Darling, my Everything? I don’t know what else to say except that I fall apart from you. Everything you do makes me scared and I have no idea what to do, because I am just now realizing how much I adore you.” George confesses. (y/n) can only stare back with adoration, yet confusion swirling in her thoughts.

“You know, I can tell everyone how I feel. I love my mom, I love my sister, I love pets, I love One Direction, for gods’ sake! Yet if I say that to you… why is it that I feel like I would break apart? Saying those three words to you just confirms that I am so hopelessly in love with you, and anxious to tell you to be mine. Screw it, I want you to be mine, I’ve been yours. I am yours. I want everything and anything with you, and all I need is a yes. A yes from you is it for me.” (y/n) replies.

“I’m not good with my feelings, expressing them, especially with this. There’s no turning back.”

“Stop giving excuses.” She scoffs.

“I’m not. I’m giving you a way out. In the case that one day, you might not think that I am enough for you.”

“Who said you weren’t? You’re everything to me.” (y/n) says, and George whips his head up to face her. She continues on,

“I’m ready to be yours. Hell, I am yours. I-I can’t even begin to say how much I- “ “Love you. I love you, (y/n).” George blurts out, hands still grasping hers. Gasping, she takes a deep breath, finally ready to succumb to her desires.

“I love you, George.” (y/n) admits. George closes his eyes and softly smiles, before opening his eyes and looking back at (y/n). Now when he’s looking at her, does (y/n) realize how reciprocated her love for him was. Raising their conjoined hands to her face level, she places a kiss to his hands, with George releasing a heavy breath at the intimate action. With a smile, she lets go of his hands, George whining at the loss of contact of her hands.

“I think you’ll like this more.” (y/n) laughs. Slowly, she brings up her hands to cup his face, George immediately melting into her touch. With his head leaning towards one hand, he raises his hands to rub hers once more.

“You really like my hands, huh?” (y/n) remarks.

“They’re officially mine to hold. So, a short answer would be yes.” George smirks as (y/n) hums in content, feeling his stubble tickle the inside of her hands.

Grasping his face, (y/n) slowly tears her gaze away from his eyes to focus onto his lips, and for the first time, there’s a clear sign that he’s feeling the same. They both look at each other one last time, fully taken with one another, the space between them reducing by millimeters.

This is-

Finally capturing her lips, George shivers as (y/n) gasps into their kiss. Maybe he’s the heaven I’ve imagined. Perfection, (y/n) thought. After what seems to be minutes of giving into their desires, they pull back, chests heaving. George’s lips swollen, (y/n) can’t help but steal another kiss, earning a chuckle from George.

“I love you. You’re it for me. I- I love you” (y/n) repeats. George smiles for what seems to be the millionth time that day and says,

“I love you, (y/n). I- I am yours, and you’re mine.” George gushes. Going in for the third, but not final time, they embrace and kiss sweet nothings into their lips, each as a promise to love each other with no holding back.

[interstellarflare]

Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART SIX-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. I apologise for the long chapters. Gif by @xmichaelmyers​

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE| |PART FOUR| |PART FIVE|

After activating the pager hacking device after you had entered the building, you and Homelander went your seperate ways for the night.

You watched as Madelyn Stillwell hung off of his arm, smiling and pretending that she was actually interested in tonight’s events as Homelander indulged politicians and government officials in small talk. You however, stood in a secluded corner of the room, waiting for your device to break through Vought’s firewalls whilst idly sipping a glass of champagne. You didn’t know how long he had been there, but Black Noir stood by your side, his arms folded over his armoured chest as his suit blended perfectly with the shadows to your right.

You were growing more anxious as time went by. You expected to hear a small beeping noise when your device had finished its task, but the growing fear that the device wouldn’t work caused your palms to become increasingly sweaty. You loosed a shaky breath, taking a small sip of the champagne in your grasp. You found small comfort in the fact that Noir was by your side, grateful that at least someone else knew what you were up to.

From your position in the corner, you could hear various topics of conversation. However, the majority of them were about you. ‘Who was that woman with him?’ You heard someone question, that someone turning out to be the wife of the Secretary of Defence. ‘Who is she? I don’t think I’ve seen her around before’. ‘Her dress is beautiful, no wonder Homelander chose to escort her inside’. ‘He was probably being nice, she doesn’t really belong here’. You felt Noir step out of the shadows and move to your side, his arm brushing against yours as he stood defensive and tall. As soon as he appeared, the conversations about you stopped, everyone averting their gaze to anywhere else in the room but towards you and the Supe. No doubt he would have heard all of the negative chatter his stern stance giving off a pissed off vibe loud and clear.

“Is it normal for you to intimidate people who piss you off?” You asked teasingly, a smirk growing on your lips as you finished the last of the champagne. Noir nodded wordlessly, his helmeted gaze not leaving the gathered congregation before him. You rolled your eyes, laughing quietly as you anxiously peered down at the clutch in your other hand. Still nothing. You huffed through your nose, your anxiety being replaced with frustration. What if all of this was for nothing? What of at the end of the night, the device didn’t go off. What then?

Slow music began to play, a choir of violinists, cellos and various other instruments beginning a long classical piece which you knew would likely last the entire night. “Excuse me, can I have a word?” A toxically sweet voice spoke softly, causing you to turn your gaze and meet the emerald eyes of the blood red reporter from earlier. She smiled a viper’s grin, her eyes turning a shade darker as she towered over over your smaller frame. You blinked in surprise and confusion, unsure as to why this woman was even speaking to you. As if sensing your confusion, her grin widened “I only want to interview you in regards to your entrance with The Homelander himself, it was quite spectacular I have to say”. You laughed breathlessly, unsure of what to do or say. So you shrugged your shoulders “Oh, uh, thank you? To be honest it wasn’t really that-”

“Tell me, is there a secret relationship going on between the two of you behind closed doors?” She pried, her question catching you off guard. You choked, shaking your head in disbelief “I’m sorry? I don’t think I understand” You spoke lowly, standing as tall as your heels would allow. The reporter smirked evilly, knowing that she had gotten under your skin. She stepped closer toward you intimidatingly close with her hands propped on her hips. “Well one would assume that something was going was going on between you two with the way he escorted you inside” She spoke lazily, staring down at you with a bored expression “everyone has been talking about it, you know”.

Your eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare, one that even made the Supe at your side flinch with how much hatred and ice radiated from your form. “He was just being chivalrous-” “Oh, I’m sure he was...” The reporter interrupted sarcastically, picking at her red painted nails through her hooded eyelashes “then again, why else would he associate with someone as dull and uninteresting as you? I mean, look at you. You don’t fit in here, you’re hiding in a corner for gods sake...”

Dull and uninteresting...is that how people saw you?

You tried to maintain your composure, you tried not to take the bitch’s words to heart. But why did they hurt so much?

Dull and uninteresting, boring and plain. You averted your gaze from the reporter’s and casted your eyes across the room. Where your eyes met his. And you knew. You knew Homelander had been listening, given by the stern and unreadable expression on his face. Damn his superhuman hearing, damn him to hell. You could feel him staring after you as you weaved your way through the dancing crowd. You could feel him staring after you as you climbed the main marble staircase, disappearing down the hall and onto a stone balcony. You leaned against the balcony, breathing deeply to try and prevent the tears in your eyes falling.

Why were you hurt so much by this? What did it matter what people thought about you? Why did it matter what he thought about you?

Why? Why did it matter?

It was peaceful out on the balcony, the noise of the Gala inside was nothing but distant rumbles. The music still clear as day. A gentle but cool breeze caressed your skin, brushing strands of your hair out of its well-kept do. Footsteps echoed on the balcony. They were heavy, but taken in a stride that was light and cautious. You didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing behind you.

“Do you think I’m dull and uninteresting?” You asked him, keeping your gaze ahead and on the night cityscape before you. You heard Homelander sigh, but he made no attempt top move toward you. When no answer came, your chest tightened painfully. Of course, he thought you were dull. Of course, he thought you were uninteresting. He was The Homelander. And you...you were just a nobody.

“It’s John...” You heard him sigh out lowly, his tone of voice showing no sign of teasing or malice. With your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you spun to face The Worlds Greatest Superhero with an expression of pure bewilderment. “What?”.

Homelander chuckled, a genuine sound resonating from deep within him as he stepped toward you, his cape billowing slightly in the wind. “Yesterday...” He began, standing beside you and leaning his hands against the stone railing “you asked if I had another name Homelander, otherwise you were going to call me prick or arsehole. My name is John”. You laughed lowly, nodding your head as you leaned back against the railing with an amused smile. So he did have a name. “It suits you” You responded, looking over at him with a soft smile. John nodded, giving you the same smile in return. “And you know what, any woman that can speak to me with such sarcasm, wit, and foul language, and live to tell the tale, is definitely interesting in my eyes”.

Your laughter echoed out from the balcony and across the city. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. It wasn’t like the small sarcastic chuckles, or the amused scoffs you would always give him. This was genuine, this was pure. And he loved every second of it. But why? Why did he enjoy your laugh? Why did he long to see you smile, why did he long to always see you as happy as you were now? You turned to face him again, the frown on your face now non-existent as you grinned. “You know, this is why I don’t leave my apartment” You joked lightly, causing the Supe beside you to scoff. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear anything other than an oversized shirt and sweatpants” He teased, shying away slightly as you lightly slapped his shoulder. He laughed as you pouted, folding your arms over your chest as your eyebrows furrowed.

The music from downstairs floated up on a graceful wind, a slow waltzing piece that would have no doubt been played at a dozen luxurious events prior to this one. John stood up from his position by the balcony, moving to stand in front of you with a soft smile. “Dance with me” he spoke suddenly, holding his gloved hand towards you with a smirk tugging at his lips. Your expression became more confused as you looked up at him with an expression that couldn’t have been more confused if you tried. “What? You want to dance with me?”.

“Why not? It’s a Gala, we might as well” John tried to reason, rolling his eyes as you laughed loudly once again. Placing your clutch carefully on the balcony, you shook your head slowly as you placed your hand into his own. He immediately pulled you close, wrapping one arm securely around your waist, and intertwining his other with yours. The two of you began to sway slowly, your cheeks flushing a bright red at the amount of limited space between you. Your heart was beating so loud, that you were sure the man before you could hear your heart beating wildly in your chest without his superhuman hearing. The thought alone caused your stomach to flutter. Pushing down your nerves, you forced yourself to look up, and almost fell apart. John was staring down at you with an expression you couldn’t read. No one had ever looked at you like that before, with such emotion, with such raw-

Pain...there was so much pain.

For a split second, you couldn’t breath. The air was taken from your lungs as John flinched, his grip on your form tightening as his eyes widened in pure horror. Blood splattered the front of his uniform, tiny horrifying droplets coating his skin. A strange warmth suddenly spread over your chest, a deep rumbling cough caused the pain to increase. Blood dribbled from your mouth, your blood. You collapsed forward, the world suddenly spinning in dizzying stars. The ringing in your ears became louder and louder, drowning out the terror-filled shouts from downstairs, and John’s frantic cries. You could make out your name on his lips, his arms wrapping around your form as he lowered you to the ground. You were scared, terrified. What happened? 

You suddenly felt tired, your eyes becoming heavier with every second that passed. It was cold, so very cold. Everything suddenly became numb, consumed by the agony and pain that everything slowly began to fade. You never saw the figure emerge from the doorway, you never heard what John said to that blurry image of a man.

But the last thing you saw was his furious expression. His blue eyes glowing a bright red in rage, hatred, and pure madness.

Tag List: @lauraaan182 @tardis-23 @freshmakertaco @shilsvampsinger @cynthianokamaria  @delicatetimetravelarcade @coloursunlimited @clean-soap @themarch-oftheblackqueen @soft-hargreeves @kennedywxlsh​ @itskatrinahere​

[gold3nfics]

Anachronism {Chapter One}

Author's Note: So this is my first written work on here, and I am really excited about this story! This chapter was really just to allow you guys to gain insight into what the story is about and who the boys are. I promise you that Y/N will make an appearance in the next chapter :)

Word Count: 3,814

Our story begins with one man, a man who went by the name Haneul.

Haneul was admired and sought out by many for not only his sharp attributes, but also his magical abilities. He came from a long line of sorcerers before him who had served and protected the realm he resided in.

While he was the one to keep everyone safe, many wondered why he refused to assume leadership, or even live in the nicer part of the land. Instead of living in luxury and riches, he chose to live in the forest away from the bustle of the town solely because he preferred the quiet lifestyle compared to one where many would invade his space and distract him.

One early morning, he woke to frantic knocking at the door of his small cottage.

“Hello?” he opened the door to find that it was one of the royal guards.

“Your presence is requested at the castle immediately.” the young guard says with urgency evident in his voice.

“What happened?” Haneul says now concerned,

“The queen, we believe it is time.”

He grabs his medical supplies and jumps into the carriage heading towards the castle. Once they arrive, Haneul is immediately taken to the royal chambers to begin his work.

Upon entering, his eyes immediately caught sight of the queen writhing in pain surrounded by many servants trying to relieve the pain she was feeling. He approaches the queen with a reassuring smile on his face,

“And how is this young beauty doing?”

“She is not at her best right now.” the queen responds with a weak smile. Haneul releases a sigh of amusement then asks her for permission to check her dilation, after she nods he checks and realizes it is time.

“You, my queen, are about to be a mother in a matter of minutes,” he looks to the servants “bring me warm towels and water.” The servants leave and he focuses on the queen, “I am going to need you to push, but not too hard alright?” She nods and begins to push.

After only seven pushes, the baby is out and the sorcerer carefully wraps the child in a blanket, “Would you like to hold your son my queen?” he says without looking away from the child. When there was no answer, he glances up only to see her going in and out of consciousness.

He immediately hands the baby off to one of the servants and examines her only to find that she has lost too much blood. He does everything he could to revive her, yet she has already passed. He bows his head in shame while holding her cold hand and apologizes, part of him hoping her soul is still lingering around to hear.

Now, there was indeed a ritual he could have done to revive her; however, it is forbidden being that it is far too dangerous to bring a soul back from the underworld.

He stands back with his head hung in sadness, “Alert the king at once.” Just as the servants were gathering to cover the queen's body and filtering out, he approached the servant holding the tiny prince, “May I take him? I need to examine him.” the servant nods and leaves the room.

As he seats himself in a chair behind a divider on the other side of the chambers, he gently looks over the child for any issues. Just as he was almost finished, the child stirs in his slumber raising his small hand to rub his eyes. As the child does this, Haneul catches sight of a white circle on the inside of the child’s hand, at first glance, it appeared as if it was glowing.

Haneul furrows his brows, gently tracing his fingers over the mark. “What is this little guy?”

As he moves to look closer, the servant comes back to collect the young prince to give to the king. He slowly gives away the child and he is soon left to himself to think about what that mark meant. He decides to shake the thought out of his head, and just travel home to rest.

As he rides home on the carriage, he mourns the passing of the young queen. He was quite fond of her, just as everyone else in the realm was. She was not only beautiful, but was also very caring. She would always make jokes and tease others just to have them feel entertained.

Her husband is bound to be heartbroken, he thought in his head. It was no secret the king had worshiped the ground she walked on; not that she didn’t deserve it. The number of times Haneul had overheard the young couple whispering childish jokes to each other, and them arguing over tedious matters were more than he could count. It will be hard to find a woman as kind and unique as she was. I hope her son takes after her. Haneul smiled sadly at this thought.

* * *

As the years passed, Haneul noticed that there have been more and more children who were born with the same white mark that the young prince had. There had been seven boys born throughout the past few years, all of which were born with the same mark and had lost their mothers during childbirth.

“Godammit!” Haneul yells in frustration as he slams his fist onto the table. The table was cluttered with scrolls, books, odd writings, and drawings that even Haneul didn’t even remember taking out. The stressed sorcerer moves over to his bed and faceplants directly onto his pillow.

Not only was he tasked with acting as a teacher to the young prince, keeping the people safe, and being one of the main healers; but he also took it upon himself to figure out what was going on with the seven boys who shared the same mark.

He may have been tired, stressed, and confused; but most importantly, he was worried.

Haneul was a man who believed that there was a reason for everything; death, births, happiness, sadness, there were reasons for all of it. Therefore, he knew that there was a great purpose that followed the seven young boys with the peculiar markings.

* * *

“He follows him as if he was a stray and he threw him a bone. I am surprised Namjoon hasn’t grown irritated.” the young woman says with a tired smile.

“Well Namjoon is quite patient, and I feel that he's the one to keep Jungkook out of trouble,” Haneul responds while packing up his things, “and Yuna, do not forget they both need to meet at my home before dawn.”

“The others will be there, right?” Yuna asks with a glimmer of concern in her eyes,

Haneul grabs her hand as a way to comfort her and stares into her eyes, “They will be there Yuna, they have no choice.” he turns his head to look at the two young men joking around and skipping stones across the foggy pond, “For now, just spend time with the two of them. Okay?”

Yuna’s eyes filled with tears, “Okay, thank you Haneul.”

“Of course” Haneul smiles and bows respectively before departing and starting his journey home.

Haneul has aged considerably throughout the last 20 years, his hair had become greyer and his eyes duller; but his mind and heart were still drawn towards helping people, and to the seven boys with the odd mark, and after many years, he found the answer.

A few months before now, Haneul had stumbled across an old poem.

The world is calm and crops are ripe

Yet underneath its surface lays a darkness waiting to strike

When the circles of seven come to light, so will come a long and frozen fight

A being will propose an idea that the seven circles will see as an answer to end the fight

It is up to the seven circles to decide what path they take, and which is for light and dark

The answer lays at the heart of the one who descends from pure light, for their heart and the seven circles must all reunite

After reading the poem he realized the importance of the young men The poem itself acknowledges a traumatic event that will happen in the time that they are alive, yet it had been months since he found the writing and nothing has happened. However, Haneul knew that something was coming and he came to realize what that was.

You see, two nights prior Haneul had a vision. The vision was not clear, yet it showed a figure whose presence exuded sadness and wisdom. All the figure did was deliver a message that was the following,

“In two days, a frozen death will fall upon your realm. Those seven under the protection of the circle will survive; while all the others will temporarily perish. They will be presented with information that involves seeking another being of pure light to end the frozen death. However, there are two paths they could take with this, but only one being the right one. Do not let them fall into trickery, for that will be their downfall and everything will cease to exist if the wrong path is taken.” and with that, the vision was no more.

Waking from his vision, Haneul knew that he must gather the boys and prepare them for what was to come.

* * *

As Haneul waited for the boys to arrive he put together all of his writings, they were not much but they gave small insight on what was to come. Just as he finished up sorting everything, he caught sight of lanterns and heard the sound of multiple footsteps outside his home.

“Jungkook, if you do not stop stepping on the back of my boots I swear I’m gon-” the voice was cut off by a loud laugh, “What are you going to do Jin? Send your one of the so-called guards after him?” a lazy voice replies.

“Oh that’s rich, coming from a farmer.” a cocky-toned voice chimed in.

“What is that supposed to mean Jimin?” a new deep voice says back, “Guys! Stop it, Haneul is probably hearing everything and I am pretty sure the last thing we want is to embarrass ourselves in front of him.”

Haneul had heard everything; and the last voice was right, they were embarrassing themselves. But the older sorcerer had been rather entertained by their interactions. Putting a sly smile on his face, he opened the front door coming face to face with seven men whose faces varied from shock, embarrassment, to dumbfounded.

“You boys have not changed much, have you?” he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. Namjoon forms a tight-lipped smile, “I am afraid not sir.”

Haneul gestures for them to come in, “Well, let’s not waste any more time.”

Once the boys were led in and settled into Haneul’s study, they began to ask questions. “So why are we here?” Jin asks while the others looked at Haneul.

Haneul looked at them and sighed before speaking,

“Have you ever wondered why you all have those marks on your hands?” Silence.

“Why all of your mothers passed away during your births?” Silence again.

Haneul notices the confused expressions and continues, “Well I did. I knew that there was a reason for those markings and,” he stands and gets a small book, “I found the reason why.”

Haneul gives the book to Namjoon and takes a seat in front of them.

“I spent years gathering, reading, and learning everything about what is just so special about you boys, and all of the knowledge that I have gained can be found in that journal. You boys are a part of what is known as the circle.” The boys look at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain more.

“There was a tale that spoke of seven men being born with the same markings that you boys have. They all possessed special abilities that varied with each one of them. These men used their powers to protect those of their realm and were the ones to keep balance within their realm. However, as time had passed tensions had risen between the seven and because of it, a big fight had happened. Their fight had destroyed not only their bonds, but also ended many people's lives. No one knew the true reason why the fight had happened, but many did not wish to know. Because many innocent people had died as a result of the fight, the people, who were the ones that the seven had sworn to protect, had seen the seven protectors as dangerous and a threat. So they decided to kill them.”

Jimin perks up and scoffs, “I doubt their attempts would have worked, you said they had powers right?”

“Jimin,” Namjoon said, “be quiet and let him continue.”

“Anyways, one of the seven had been informed about the people’s plan to assassinate them and told the other six. That night they had decided to willingly sacrifice themselves, and their lives, to no longer cause suffering and sadness among their people. Now, it seems that the gods have decided to pass on the tale by blessing you seven with the marks.”

“So, we are now the protectors of our realm?” Seokjin asks in a tone that gives the impression he is not thoroughly convinced.

The older man sighs, “Yes, and I know this sounds odd but-”

Yoongi cuts him off laughing, “Haneul, please. We are not people of importance, except for Jin and Jimin. Most of us have grown up struggling and some despising one another. Now you say that just because we have similar marks, and our mothers are dead, it makes us special?”

“Yoongi hear him out, you-”

“Oh Jungkook please, we are nothing and have been nothing for most of our lives.”

“Yoongi,” Haneul starts, “you do not have to believe me right now. None of you do, but something is about to happen and you need to understand what to do.” He gives Namjoon the poem that he had found, which related to the prophecy of the seven who all sat before him.

“After finding that poem, I had a vision where a figure appeared to me and spoke of a ‘frozen death’ that will fall upon our people.” the boys' faces grow concerned, “To end it and bring back the balance of our realm, you boys are to venture outside our realm, find a certain being, and bring them back here.” the boys erupt with multiple questions in response.

“Wait, how do you travel outside our realm?”

“How do we know it's them?”

“What do we do once we find them?”

“What about our families?”

It seems that after that last question, everyone grew silent. Taehyung’s eyes had begun to grow watery, “What about my dad? Will he be okay?”

Haneul grew somber, “Your families, as well as everyone here, will be okay with whatever happens while you are searching for the being. However, their lives depend on what path you take once you are all back here together. In the book that I gave you, it tells you how to get to and from the realm in which the being lives.”

Haneul gets up and notices that the sun is almost up. “I do not have much time, but there is one last thing.” he turns towards the boys, “My vision also said that you would be approached with an idea and to be awar-” Haneul’s breathing had grown rapid as he fell to the ground while clutching his heart.

“Haneul!” Junkook had yelled before getting up and running towards him along with the rest of the boys. “Can you hear me? Haneul?” Namjoon asks while kneeling beside him, feeling for a pulse.

His breathing starts to slow down and he reaches out to grasp Namjoon’s hand; the boys are shocked to see a layer of frost had begun to form around his hand slowly moving up his arm.

“B-be caref-ful, d-do not allow yourselves t-to be fooled. Trust your h-hearts and e-each other. Rememb-ber,” Haneul moves his gaze towards the book he had given now in the grasp of Jungkook, “everything is i-in that b-book.” and with that, the frost overcomes his body and his breathing stops.

The boys stood in shock as the man, who had been a role model for all of them and helped so many people, become absorbed by ice and had fallen into a death-like sleep.

Namjoon stands up and takes the book that was in Jungkook's hands, and he began to head out of the house. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jin exclaims following after him.

“To do what we’re supposed to do. I am going to find a way out of this realm, find who I need to find, and do whatever I need to do to get everyone back.” Namjoon states without stopping.

Yoongi scoffs, “You? In case you don’t remember, Haneul said ALL of us have to work together to resolve this, not just you.” Namjoon stops and turns and furrows his brows, “Weren’t you just going on about how you don’t believe in any of this and how we couldn’t do anything?”

“Yes, but that was before I saw Haneul become a block of ice. I still don’t believe we have powers, that seems rather far-fetched.” Yoongi crosses his arms, “Are you saying that Haneul is a liar?” Jin challenges.

“Not entirely.” Yoongi replies in a cold tone, “I am more confused than anything, I mean how the hell are we supposed to know who this being is once we enter their realm?” Everyone is silent, and Namjoon sighs in defeat, “Does anyone have any idea?” Yoongi asks with frustration evident in his tone.

“I have an idea.”

The boys all turn towards the front of Haneul’s house and see a young woman leaning against the doorway. Jimin steps in front of all of them with a hand on his sword, “Who the hell are you?” the woman raises her hands in defense and smiles calmly,

“My name is Ara, I am a friend of Haneul. It would be best not to harm someone who is here to help you.” The boys grow suspicious and Hoesok speaks up, “Haneul didn’t mention you.”

Ara lowers her hands “He didn’t need to,” she tilts her head glancing at all of the boys, “did you really think that he was the only magical being?”

She snaps her fingers and Jimin’s sword appears in her hands making the boy move forward to retrieve it, “Look, I am not here to harm you, and you having a weapon against me will not solve anything.” She moves her wrist to make an invisible force push Jimin onto the ground. Some of the boys stifle a laugh upon seeing the young guard get huffy and brush off his clothes.

“Your marks.” Ara states, the boys look at her in confusion.

Namjoon looks at her, “What? What do you mean by our marks?”

“Your marks, they will help you find who you are looking for.” Ara leans back and looks at him lazily, “Your marks are similar to magnets, they will lead to one another due to their bonds. As for what you need to do with the being once you get them back here; you must bring you eight and your marks to me to restore the balance.”

Jungkook grows confused, “Why would we do that?”

Taehyung steps forward “Yeah, and what about the story?” Ara furrows her brows, “What story?”

“The one about the seven men who were marked and the protectors of their realm.” Taehyung pauses, “There were seven men in the story and now you're telling us that there are eight?”

Ara stills and sighs while her expression grows serious, “Do you know why your people have frozen into a deep sleep?” The boys shake their heads, “Because there were only supposed to be seven of you, seven protectors. But it appears that an eighth being has been born with the mark as well; however, they are not of this realm meaning that your bonds are not entirely connected. It was a mistake, so you boys and them must come back here and break the bond from them, and then peace and life will be restored.” Ara finishes.

The boys are silent for a moment as if to fully grasp the information they had just been given. “So we travel, find, and bring back the being, then you will break the bond?” Jin asks, “Yes.” Ara responds with a comforting smile.

“And everyone will come back perfectly fine?” Taehyung asks in a hopeful tone. “Yes, everything will go back to how things were before. Except for you now being the protectors of this realm.”

“Wait, what about our powers?” Ara turns her head towards Jungkook, “Aren’t we supposed to have powers?”

Ara grins mischievously, “You will need to figure that out on your own, your guy’s powers will come to you naturally.” She stands, “For now, you boys must travel and find the being.” Ara gives Jimin his sword back and begins to walk away towards the path that leads to their town.

“Where are you going?” Namjoon asks and Ara stops and turns. “Someone has to make sure things here remain okay until you get back.”

“Wait a second!” Hoseok yells out, “Why aren’t you frozen? I thought everyone in this realm would fall into a frozen sleep?” Upon hearing this the boys got curious and all stared at her. Ara’s face grew serious, “Because I am not of this realm.” and with that, she vanished into thin air.

The boys all stand there in silence. Namjoon turns his gaze to the book and opens it trying to find out how to transfer them out of their realm.

“I found it,” the boys look towards him, “the book says that we must join hands and visualize the portal into existence.”

“Yeah right, I’m not holding any of your hands.”

“Oh shut up and take my hand Jimin.” Jin says annoyed while grabbing both Jimin and Taehyung’s hands.

“Alright, everyone close your eyes,” Namjoon states and closes his own, “okay now focus on visualizing the portal.”

“How do you even visualize?”

“It’s like imagining, but more detailed.”

“That's confusing, and it also sounds hard”

“Shut up Jimin!” Everyone says while Jimin sighs dramatically.

After a few moments, the seven men felt their marks stinging slightly and a large gust of wind had blown in front of them. Once they all opened their eyes, they saw a large circle of light in the middle of all of them.

Namjoon steps forwards and looks to the rest of the boys, “Here goes nothing.” and with that, they all walk through the portal.

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

The Girl With Stars In Her Eyes | Sawamura Daichi/Reader

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Reader (Angel), Sugawara Koushi mentioned, Previous!Reader (Moonlight)

Pairings: Sawamura Daichi/Reader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, swearing

Word count: 4768

Summary: Falling in love was easy. Staying in love was harder. Falling out of love could be devastating or relieving. But with Daichi, everything is easy. Everything.

A/N: Make sure to check out part one of the series here and let me know what you think because oh boy did I hurt people. I’d also like to thank @pies-writes-and-more and @satan-ruler-of-hells for being my Beta-Readers

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----

Falling in love is always the easiest part; staying in love takes more work, but the end result is what makes it all worth it; falling out of love can be so difficult and devastating all at once - or it could be the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

You met Daichi halfway through your first year in college. He, quite literally, fell for you - well, on top of you, but they were semantics. With the wind knocked from your lungs and a vicious aching in the back of your head, you force yourself to stand up, “I am so sorry, are you okay? Do you have a concussion?” He asked fretting over you, reaching a gentle hand around to the back of your head, looking for any signs of injury.

That was an issue, because you didn’t even know the symptoms of a concussion, and now you might have one? If God could have mercy on you, then that would be highly appreciated. “I think I’m fine.” You moan, rubbing the bump that has already formed.

“I can take you to the doctor’s, just in case.” That would be the smart move, but you didn’t know who he was. Hadn’t ever seen him before, certainly hadn’t heard of him, so you were not about to follow him to some unknown location - even if he did radiate such kindness and authority. You think that he’d probably make a good police officer. Maybe he was.

“I’m good. Mostly.” You laugh and hold out an arm to steady yourself. “Besides, how bad can a concussion really be?” He almost looked shocked, so you could only assume that a concussion could be really bad. “Okay, okay, I’ll go to the doctor. Although at this rate, it’ll probably be because my lungs hurt.” You rub your chest, trying to soothe the pain in your lungs.

“I guess you could say,” he flashed a winning smile and chuckled, “I really took your breath away.” You laugh, ignoring your pain.

“Oh wow- that was… sad?” He chuckles again - how could a chuckle sound so sweet, like his voice was dipped in honey. “But I guess you did.” Of course, you meant it literally, but he clearly thought you were flirting back with him, because he smirked.

“And I fell for you harder than I’ve ever fallen for anyone,” his smirk grew wide when heat rose to your cheeks.

“I can attest to that, I mean, how are you so heavy?” You tease, momentarily forgetting the amount of pain you were actually in.

“I’m not heavy,” he pouts, though it’s obvious that he would definitely be heavy compared to you, “I just used to play volleyball in high school.” He shrugs and you roll your eyes.

Daichi leaves little room to escape in your conversation - not that you’re complaining, he’s definitely attractive and charming - the way he talked about volleyball with such a passion in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. And you knew the feeling, you loved watching it with your dad so many years ago - one of the few happy memories you have with him. For a while you thought that it would bring a bitter taste into your mouth to hear about it again, but it didn’t. You were glad.

----

Falling in love with Daichi was the easiest part. Almost too easy.

He wore his heart on his sleeve, even when you told him how dangerous that really was; there didn’t seem to be anything he couldn’t do. That wasn’t exactly true, even though he had won your heart, you refused to date a man you barely knew. Especially not one so especially charming as Daichi.

Still he’d always ask at the end of every month, “I already fell for you, if you fall too, I’ll be sure to catch you,” with the laziest wink. Like he knew exactly what was going on in your heart.

And yet the closer you got to Daichi, the further away he seemed. He had friends back home, an hour away, and, at first, he’d call them once a day. Then it slipped into every few days. Then once a week. There’s a tenderness in his voice that you can’t quite place. Something that made you question him ever so slowly. But - at this point - you were just his friend. Who were you to question how he talked to his friends?

One day, you asked if he had any exes, a tension filled the air and he looked away from you out of the window, “I guess one girl,” he shrugged, but you knew there was more than what he was telling you. You could feel it, “not much to say about her, but the first thing I noticed about her was how she reminded me of the moon. She reflects the warmth you give to her, but all in all, nothing too special.” Empty. That was how he spoke of this girl. Like there weren’t any real emotions with how he felt about her. There’s something in his eyes that changed and he frowned. “She made friends a little too easily, if you know what I mean.” Your stomach dropped at the suggestion, she hadn’t cheated on him, had she? “But you,” he turned around, smiling softly, “it’s like you have stars in your eyes.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at him - as if you hadn’t heard that a thousand times already. It was true. People called you hopeful, filled with life and joy. You hated it. So much.

Like they were taunting you somehow.

You could never seem to explain it, the distaste you had for something so seemingly sweet.

Maybe he knew how you felt when your face twisted, because he reached out and grabbed your hand so softly, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. There was that tenderness again.

You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

----

After six months of non-stop pursuing you, Daichi asks to take you on a date, and you finally agree, because you really love him so much.

And Daichi doesn’t disappoint.

He whisks you off around the city to each and every little location you held near and dear to your heart, paying for everything without any hesitation, because, “an angel like you should never have to pay for a thing.” You can’t help but hesitate.

“You must have been quite the player,” you tease, hand over your heart, feigning protection, “am I going to need to prepare myself for a heartbreak?” Something in his eyes twist - maybe guilt or shame - but you don’t have a chance to really see what it means before he squeezes them shut and smiles brightly.

“The only thing I play is volleyball.” And with that, all your worries are silenced. You find something so comforting about his company on late nights when you’re both completing so much work that it’s overwhelming. He always knows exactly the right way to relieve your stress.

Your friend's remarks about the marks that littered your body meant nothing to you, not when you found yourself in his arms later that evening, dancing under the pale moonlight. His hands running through your hair, over your body, lips on yours with such a passion and love that you’re afraid you might melt.

Daichi truly is perfect in every single way. Maybe he doesn’t see it, there’s always those underlying insecurities in everything that he does, especially when he asks whether you trust him.

You try to ask him about why he’s so worried about that, and he reminds you about the girl of the moon - the one who made friends just a little too easily. You listen as he talks about her, how she befriended his best friend just a little too quickly, how she was ignorant to what he could see, the way she’d confide in the other boy with such ease. He talked about how he’d always known their future wouldn’t be together. Not now, at least. Still, even with all the ways he described what she’d done, the way she treated him (because you don’t even need to hear the details to know that this girl had cheated on him), he still speaks about her with such a tenderness in his eyes.

So you ask more. “What was she like before?” His face twists, lost in the thought, seeking the words to describe her.

“She was just a normal girl.” He shrugged before ending the conversation quickly.

You couldn’t help but think there was something he wasn’t telling you, but you weren’t going to push him because everybody has their secrets. Even you have your own.

----

From that day forward, you could only look at the moon with a bitterness in your mouth; how silly is it to think you can despise somebody you’d never met before. Even with that bitterness, you keep seeking out the sweetness, because a girl who reminds you of the moon surely can’t be all that bad.

Yet Daichi refuses to give you more than he already had. There was something off in the way he acted, but each backtrack was covered expertly with his whispers of sweet nothings and, before you know it, he’s whisking you off your feet all over again.

Some nights you wonder whether he still speaks to the girl of the moon; with the way he spoke about her, you couldn’t assume so. If he could still talk about her so tenderly, then there had to be more about her. You wanted to know about her life beyond what Daichi had told you. Although it didn’t seem like it would do any good, so you didn’t bother trying to look for her. You walked along a path beside him, leaving stones unturned.

Other days, Daichi would ask about your childhood. And you’d tell him the truth because there was no point in trying to avoid it, “my parents would cheat on each other for revenge.” You put it plain and simple, venom soaked words seemed to be never-ending, “you’d think that at some point they’d realise that I could still hear them fight, but they didn’t.” Thinking about it hurts, but he deserves to know, because you love him. “I spent a long time watching my mom become a husk of herself. I fucking hate people who cheat. There isn't even any point to it.”

Your shaking, you didn’t realise it until just now, but the anger was bubbling over so much that you physically couldn’t contain it. Tears in your eyes burn so much and now you can’t even see clearly.

This feeling of weakness used to fill you so much, and you hated how it had been the one thing to stick around - that and the twisted idea you had stars in your eyes. You felt about ready to break down until Daichi rested his hand on your back, leaning his head down onto your shoulder; you couldn’t see the look on his face, but you were sure it was one of pity.

----

It didn’t take much longer after that before more of your things were at Daichi’s dorm rather than at your own. That was only because you had a roommate, and he didn’t, so it made more sense for you to be there.

Little pieces of you were integrated around, like his place was made for you. Your favourite candles were lit around - the smell of black cherry filled the air and made it feel like home. You were far too used to leaving textbooks and notes at his that when you were at yours, you had no choice but to do nothing all day.

There are still so many things you learn about Daichi every day; the one that surprises you the most is his brief era in watching anime. How he could now name all the characters on a random show a friend had made him watch, and that he was still watching Attack on Titan because he just wants to know what happens, he doesn’t really like it.

You were so close to Daichi, so much that you hated the few times he went to visit friends and family back home - he said that you should wait to meet his family and friends, and while you find it strange, he assures you that he’s told them all about you.

When he visits for his moms birthday, you consider sneaking with him, but decide against it. Because you love Daichi, and you will respect him. You’ll meet his family when he’s ready. That’s what you told yourself.

That’s what you had to keep telling yourself.

That day he came back with a new shirt - said his friend had insisted that he take it because he’d bought it specifically for him. He told you, “but it would look so much better on you.” And you can’t help the rush of excitement as he basically strips you right there. His hands and mouth are on you. Your mind is filled with only thoughts of him.

----

Of course nice things can never last. For all the good things, there are an equal amount of bad things. You just didn’t think one would come so soon.

You’re curled up by his side, trailing your hands over his chest. Over the little marks that you had left. Because Daichi was yours, yours and nobody else’s. For a second, you’re ready to sleep right here; you let out a soft sigh as a knock echoed throughout the dorm.

Standing up and sauntering over, you watch him as he starts to slowly get clothes on. It’s a shame, really, because he is absolutely gorgeous. Your hand hovers over the handle a minute, debating whether or not to actually open the door. But you are an angel, after all, so you open it.

In front of you stands a woman, a smile so wide and reflective that it makes you want to smile, too. She looks maybe a little older than her age, slightly tired. You note the way she’s breathing just a little too quickly. Like she’s nervous. But what exactly did she have to be nervous for? Had she gotten the wrong dorm? That seemed like the only reasonable answer. Her eyes flutter open and she opens her mouth to speak, but something makes her stop. Inside her eyes, you watch the light die and shatter.

Her eyes trail over you, taking in every little detail. It’s like she’s faced the ultimate betrayal and you aren’t sure why. She was the one who’d come to Daichi’s dorm, did she not know that the two of you were dating? For a second - a second you regret immediately - you think that Daichi might have cheated on you. The thought makes your blood boil but you brush it off, because Daichi isn’t like that. Daichi would never do anything like that.

But why does she look so destroyed?

Like her entire world was crumbling around her?

She raised a shaking hand up to her mouth - you know Daichi would never cheat, so why is your heart racing so fast? Why do you recognise the look inside of this girl's eyes?

Your grip on the door tightens as she squeezes her eyes shut - like she just can’t believe what she’s seen. But what has she seen? Sure, she’d seen you, but that was a completely normal sight around campus. Maybe she just didn’t know. Maybe she came here to confess her undying love for him? That wouldn’t have surprised you.

She meets your eyes. You can see the tears brimming but refusing to fall. Why? So many questions and not enough answers. You glance back into the dorm, taking in Daichi now wearing pants. He calls out, “who is it, angel?”

In the corner of your eye, you watch her lift her other hand to her heart before pulling it away slightly, glancing down. What was she expecting to see?

You keep your eyes focused on Daichi’s face as he stands behind you in the door frame, a hand snaking around your waist before he turns to look at the girl. Something happens. Something that you couldn’t understand. Not until his face falls entirely too quickly and something in his eyes breaks. You look back at the girl as she shakes, the saddest little smile upturning her lips, “surprise…” her attempt at a sing-song tone shatters your heart.

He calls out her name, speaking far too quickly, “sh-shit, okay. Look. I can- I can explain. Okay? Just… come inside.” He’s stuttering and fumbling as he grabs onto her wrist. A hope fills her eyes and she allows herself to be pulled inside.

----

You didn't need to be a genius to put the pieces together. If this had been a story, they were the main characters. You sit on the couch while Daichi pours some water into a mug for her. There’s something in this story that you can’t work out, and that’s where you come into play. The girl so obviously wants to do anything but be sat here, so what did Daichi need to explain to her?

“How’re the boys?” He asks, passing her the mug, you quirk a brow. He barely even glances at you as he sits down, the space between you kept growing wider. She just nods slowly, like she’s in a daze. “What about Suga? Or even the first years, do they still come-”

“Just get it over with, Daichi.” Her voice was void of any emotion as she looked up at him.

She hadn’t even cried. If she was really hurt, wouldn’t she be crying? Everything about her seemed so vacant, like she was shrouded in complete darkness.

“Right.” He clears his throat, clasping his hands together as he searches for the right words. Silence with Daichi had always been comfortable before, but this had such a tension in it that it was hard to breathe. “I just- I was alone. You left me alone… I thought you hated me. I-I… I made a mistake,” he glances at you and your heart breaks all over again. Was that all you were to him? “I didn’t think it would be a big deal.” He laughs nervously. “Y-You always had Suga. I just needed someone.” The girls grip tightens on the mug, knuckles turning white.

As you listen to him explain, you finally understand what part you play and it makes you sick. Because Daichi hadn’t just cheated on you - worse than that - he had used you to cheat on someone else. You wanted to be sick. Guilt and shame radiated off of you and you just knew she could see that.

At some point during his rambling, she looks at you again. There’s a small spark in her eyes as she speaks, “nice shirt.” You look down, of course it was nice, it was Daichi’s. But now it just makes you want to tear it apart.

“Thank you,” you mutter, “it’s Daichi’s.”

“I know.” There’s a worrying confidence in her voice as she turns to glare at him. “I bought it.”

Another twisting in your stomach and you watch him sink in on himself. How hasn’t he apologised already? He is destroying two worlds at once and he isn’t even sorry; sure, he’s coming up with excuses, but he’s just trying to defend himself.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I-I… I thought maybe if we kept trying, then maybe we could-” she cuts him off, placing the mug onto the coffee table. She hadn’t even drank it, just stared at her own reflection like it was a curse and you knew exactly what was happening in her mind. Why wasn’t I enough? She cringes at the sight of your textbooks, your candles, everything.

“I think what you mean,” she sits up straighter and faces him directly, “is that you didn’t mean for me to find out.” You watch Daichi open his mouth and you just know it’s true. What was his plan when he dared to speak to you? To pursue you? He knew he had a girlfriend and he hunted you anyway. She lets out a breath - almost sounding more like a laugh - as she claps her hands together, “well, when you told me to go out and live my life, I never thought this is what it would be like.” She seems to know the right words to say to hurt him. How long had they been together?

Something about Daichi changed, like his defences shot up, “it isn't like you ever needed me, you always had Suga clinging to your side. You never even trusted me anyway.” You couldn’t figure out what he was playing at, why was he suddenly trying to attack her? It didn’t work. Nothing about her demeanour changed. If anything, she just looked angrier. How is she ever going to be able to trust you now? You want to say.

She has a sly way of attacking, very subtle and something to admire, especially as her even tone states, “maybe that’s true, but if you really think that, then you never knew me at all.” Guilt floods his eyes and you know that it has worked; those few words were enough to make this man with an aura of authority shrink like a child.

“I spent a lot of time thinking,” she sighs. You watch as she rubs slow circles on her sides - so she really is anxious? How close is she to breaking down? If it were you, you would have been long gone by now, “that when you slowly stopped calling-” you shrink into yourself, because you were the reason he’d slowly stopped calling “-that you were really busy; you were out here doing what I should have. You were living your life.” She glanced at you and you instinctively tug the hem of the shirt. Her eyes don’t linger, not long enough to read your mind. “And I can see I was right.” Her tone was so indifferent that it was somehow more threatening.

She gets up to leave and you’re almost thankful until his hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, desperation deep set in his voice, “we can still try, I- I want you to still love me. And I will love you, because I do love you.” It breaks your heart. You don’t want to hear it. You look at her and know she feels exactly the same way.

This was the time you’d expected her to break, but she doesn’t - God, this girl is filled with surprises - she smiles sweetly down at him, carefully untangling his fingers from around her wrist. “I never said I didn’t love you, but I don’t think I like you anymore, Daichi.” And with that, she broke him.

She slips out of the room, leaving you to soak in the tension.

----

“Are you going to leave me now, too?” Daichi cries out as you start getting dressed, rummaging around his dorm for the other shoe. You can’t just leave her alone. It’s your fault, you should have seen the signs all along. “Come on, angel, don’t be like this.” He reached out and put a hand on your shoulder.

It felt like he’d burnt you, “don’t you touch me.” You hissed, shoving him off and running towards the door the moment your shoe was on. He didn’t chase after you - of course he didn’t, he hadn’t even chased after her - why would you be special? That was the thing. You weren’t. Not to Daichi, at least. You were just something he could use. It was a horrible feeling, to fall out of love so quickly and suddenly. Like the wind had been knocked from your lungs and a tear in your heart.

You ran across the campus, searching wildly for the girl. You could only assume she was just as strong as you saw her a moment ago; it didn’t take long to find her, her steps were slow, like she was hoping he’d come back to her. That he’d love her and whisk her away. That he’d say this was some sort of sick joke.

But it wasn’t.

You reached out and tapped her shoulder, closing your eyes as you talked, “I am so sorry. I- I never would have done anything like that if I knew,” your heart hurts because you had been a part of this girl's destruction. “I didn’t know. And I-” you slowly open your eyes. Soft tears are falling from her eyes, and yet she holds her composure, “you really loved him, didn’t you?” Your voice is so soft that you’re worried she hasn't heard it.

But she did, telling someone that she’d call them back before hanging up. She looked around hopelessly before spotting a bench and beckoning you to follow, which you do - she seems so wise beyond her years, like she never really had the chance to be young.

Something about her reminds you of the girl Daichi told you about - the girl of the moon - how she still seems bright even in the darkness. Because this had to have been her darknest point.

“I do-” she hesitates, and you know that she still does, no matter what she says next, “- I did. Did he ever tell you how we met?” You shake your head, but it’s only a half truth. You had only heard the few things that he had said, and those words didn’t seem like much of a truth now. Because this girl doesn’t seem like she could hurt anyone; maybe only herself.

You listen intently as she tells you the story of how they met. How they’d been put in the same class, next to each other. How she was jealous of the window and how he blocked it; how he never really stopped blocking the window (that you could attest to, because he’d done the same thing). She tells you about Suga - his best friend - and how she just never wanted to hurt Daichi. She told you that she’d stayed back for her siblings, and that she didn’t really know what to do. Her confusion and sadness when he stopped calling. How that became normal.

Then she talks about him more. Her first impressions; how he had an unwillingness to give up (you knew that much) and an aura of authority and you agree, because who wouldn’t. She talks about this side of him with such a tenderness and you just know she loves him. She tells you that he could bring the first years to their knees, and you can’t help but laugh.

There’s so much more you want to talk to her about, but she just grabs your hand and sighs. “I- I don’t blame you.” It must be bitter to admit, but it eases the tension in your heart. “Daichi made his choice, and if that choice was you, then I can see why.” You want to hold her. To tell her how sorry you are. But the words refuse to leave your lips. Instead, you squeeze her hand and she smiles softly before standing up, wishing you a good life.

Would you ever have a good life after this?

----

It takes you an hour to pack up your things from Daichi’s dorm - with the help of your friends. A week to cry out any feelings you had for him. A month until Daichi finally understands you aren’t coming back to him. A year until you finish college and move in with a friend.

Sometimes the thought of Daichi still lingers, but then you look at the moon, and any thoughts are washed away.

You think kindly back on the girl wise beyond her years. Some days you wish you’d gotten to be her friend, but then you figure she wouldn’t want to be.

Falling in love is the easy part - but that’s why you hesitate when falling in love with the next boy - Matsukawa Issei. 

Staying in love with him is the hard part, but you learn how to work together, and things become just a little easier. He doesn’t make things hard, doesn’t beat around the bush. And (the girl would be happy about this) he doesn’t block the windows. He pulls you close so you can stand together. 

Falling out of love isn’t something you need to worry about. Not when he looks at you with stars in his eyes.

----

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[jasthelazyelf]

All the Obey me! boys discovering MC has kosmemophobia

Turns out I really have to write overly specific scenarios myself, so here I am. This was my first time writing headcanons, it’s more difficult than it looks like, but I managed! It also turned out way longer than I thought it’d be.

Kosmemophobia: a “fear” of jewelry. People with kosmemophobia will either not wear any jewelry at all, or may be comfortable with wearing non-metallic jewelry. Touching or being touched by jewelry makes these people feel somehow dirty (even though we know majority of jewelry is sanitized), uncomfortable, and will make people want to wash that part of their body it touched. People (dare I say mostly afab) usually notice it early on in their childhood. It is not known what makes people kosmemophobic atm, considering people have it since early childhood.

If you have further questions about it, feel welcome to ask. :)

Total word count: 4800-ish 

Gender of MC is not mentioned

Slight season 2 spoiler alert in Simeon’s part

Warning for verbally abusive parents in Belphie’s part

You have been warned.

Lucifer

He wanted to make the shopping trip enjoyable for the both of you, but especially for you

 He just wanted to take you on a date somewhere where his brothers wouldn’t constantly interfere, even if it was only for a few hours

You two were just window shopping at the mall when Lucifer decided to take you into one of the stores

 It was a store with magical items, from stones to a number of different trinkets, including jewelry

Somehow this was the part he was most interested in in the whole shop

Watching him look over it, especially necklaces made you feel uncomfortable and you had a feeling you knew where this was going

With what little hope you had, you subtly tried to nudge him away, but he wouldn’t budge

He finally took one of the necklaces out of the display and turned towards you

"What do you think? Wouldn’t it suit you?“

en he saw your eyes widen and you taking a step back, a shiver running down your spine, he was taken aback. Did he do something?

"Is something wrong? You don’t like it? It’s fine to just say so.“

 Oh well, you would have to tell him one day, right?

"N-no, that’s not exactly it, it’s just that just the thought of wearing jewelry or even touching it is making me uncomfortable. I know it’s weird, but please don’t make me do this…“

Well this he did not expect at all. He put the necklace back and putting one hand around you, he turned you around and moved to a part of the shop with crystals and rocks of all different colours instead

 "I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Let’s look over something else.“

You smiled at him and nodded. You had him curious about this fear of yours, he might have asked later on to give you more details on it.

Whether you are comfortable with sharing information about this with him or not, he respects your fear and does his best not to make you uncomfortable in the future

Mammon

-          Chaotic snuggle boy was all about protecting you and also hugging you, especially when in private where none of his brothers could see

-          It dawned on him pretty quickly that something about you was strange when you sometimes flinched every time he touched your skin

-          It wasn’t every time, and he just couldn’t understand the pattern

-          One day he had had enough, he just couldn’t wrap his head around it, it was driving him absolutely crazy

-          He finally mustered enough courage to ask you

-          "Oi, human, what is it with ya flinchin‘ when I touch ya?“

-          Damn… he noticed after all. You were trying to hide your phobia as much as you could, but you couldn’t help yourself. Well, better come up with the truth now

-          "Hah, w-well it’s not you, I swear. It’s gonna sound weird, but it’s your rings. The feel of them on my skin feels… uncomfortable.“

-          You tried to explain the feeling as best as you could, mostly how touching jewelry just makes you… want to wash your hands and the feeling appears also on other parts on your body

-          First he blinked in surprise, but listened to your explanation

-          Suddenly it all made sense. He only wore his rings on his right hand. You only flinched when he touched your skin with his right hand. How could he not notice this detail sooner?

-          Well, now he knows. He asks you if you’d rather he didn’t wear them near you.

-          If you say you’re going to hopefully get used to it over time, he will keep wearing them, but sometimes takes them off on his own

-          If you state that you’d rather not have to touch them, he will keep in mind to take them off before going for snuggles

-          Doesn’t really think much about it afterwards, he just takes it as a fact

Leviathan

-          Your birthday was getting closer and Leviathan wanted to get you a gift, but didn’t have many ideas

-          So he decided to invite you over to his room to watch some anime and play games, so that he could subtly take the conversation where he wanted and get an idea of what you might be interested in

-          When watching anime, he saw that you really liked the main character

-          Well what a coincidence! He totally imagined you cosplaying the main character and him cosplaying the character’s best friend. Duo cosplays are always the best!

-          "Oh! I once saw a set of their pendants and bracelets as a set on Akuzon! Wouldn’t it be a nice beginning of another cosplay?“

-          Your face completely changed its expression and you tensed when he mentioned it

-          This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed. Was he wrong all along? Did he assume wrongly that you liked the character? Do you actually not like the character at all?

-          Panic intensifies

-          "Oh no, I am sorry, if you don’t like the character, maybe we can cosplay another duo? Forget I said anything about it-“

-          "Levi… calm down, it’s not that I don’t like the character. It’s just the jewelry I am uncomfortable with.“

-          Oh

-          OH

-          Just like- nevermind, even though he probably watched the majority of anime in existence, he couldn’t remember a character who’s trait this would be

-          You tell him it’s okay, it’s a very rare phobia and not even that known

-          May ask a few questions about it and if there is a loophole for it

-          Either way, the idea of getting you jewelry gets thrown out of the window

-          For you birthday, he gets you and him matching hoodies

-          They‘re so soft

Satan

-          That day, Satan invited you on a date to his favourite bookstore

-          You were totally up for it, who knows, maybe you’d find something really interesting

-          Or something that is SO stupid that you just wouldn’t be able to not get it (Yes, I have one such book, I love/hate it so much)

-          He decided to také you to a bookstore you haven’t been to yet. Yay, more adventure! New store layout! So many possibilities!

-          You were browsing through bookshelves, Satan sometimes told about a few books he has in his own room that this bookstore also had

-          Suddenly he spotted someone and got rather excited

-          It turns out it was one of his aquintances and he wanted to introduce them to you. It was an elegant demon, by the looks of it quite rich

-          You were soon told they were one of the best selling authors of the Devildom, with a rather original, but easy to read writing style, which was probably how they got so famous

-          They wanted to shake your hand as a sign of politeness

-          When you saw the massive rings and bracelets on their hand, you gulped and widened your eyes

-          You didn’t want to be impolite, though, so you decided to shake their hand anyway

-          You couldn’t get the feeling of metal out of your hand and you wanted to go to the restroom to wash your hands real quick

-          Satan noticed you were getting tense as you tried to subtly rub your hand with your other hand and ended the conversation smoothly and took you aside

-          "Is there something wrong? Did they hurt you? You can ask for an apology if they did.“

-          You had to smile at this assumption. It warmed your heart to know Satan cared about you

-          "No, it’s just… have you seen all that jewelry? I am not saying they shouldn’t wear it, it’s their choice, but for me that was a living nightmare.“

-          Well he was glad they didn’t hurt you in any way. He was a bit surprised by your explanation and truth be told, he got very curious

-          After you quickly wash your your hands in the nearby restroom, he wants to know more about your phobia.

-          How long do you have it? How much does it affect your life? How did you find the right term? Do you personally know other people with this condition?

-          And so many more. Feel free to tell him there have already been too many questions answered and that you could continue another day in this interview. He’s already thrilled.

Asmodeus

-          You both planned the perfect spa day together

-          After all, who’d know more how to make you completely relaxed, if not Asmo?

-          You end up having lots of fun and you feel SO GOOD and relaxed after you’re all done

-          You hair has never been so very well taken care of, no matter you lenght or type, he probably gives you some useful advice you’ve never heard of yourself, bt it seems to be working, so why not?

-          And your skin is finally properly moisturized

-          All right, what now? Asmo doesn’t want this moment to end yet, he loves hanging out with you and you still had time

-          You end up visiting Majolish and trying on different clothes, even if it’s just for fun. Asmo loves picking out clothes for you and he really does have a good eye for what would suit you

-          You ended up putting on your 20th outfit. Asmo looked at you and thought for a bit. Something was missing.

-          Yes, sure, the outfit was nice and all, but it was missing something… but what?

-          He suddenly got an idea. He ran off for a bit and soon returned with something in his hands

-          When he got cloce to you again, you realized it was a set of small thin elegant bracelet and a metallic necklace to go with it

-          Your blood froze and you started to back away slowly, putting your arms up in defense and shaking your head

-          "What’s wrong? Do you think it’s too much? Maybe even too little?“

-          Before he could run off again for something different that could be to your taste, you quickly stopped him before he could do so

-          "No, wait, the jewelry… is pretty and you’re right it would go well with this outfit. But I am not willing to wear any jewelry. At all. It’s a very rare phobia and I can’t do much with it.“

-          You were surprised this hasn’t come up sooner, but oh well, it happened now

-          Asmo looked a bit disappointed at first, but upon hearing it’s a phobia, his expression softened and he gave you a little smile

-          "O-oh! All right, back this goes, then! The outfit looks good even without it, I just thought it would be a nice touch, that’s all!“

-          You smiled and nodded in acknowledgment

-          He would definitely question you later if it bothered you on others as well and how much. He’ll make a note to himself to wear as little jewelry as possible when spending time with you, depending what you’re comfortable with

Beelzebub

-          You were just meeting everyone in the human world for the first time

-          You were so excited, you had no idea you would ring the bell and Asmo would open the door

-          Everyone started greeting their favourite human like they haven’t seen you in years, when it’s probably been just a few weeks at most

-          These babies

-          Beel wasn’t home at the time, so you decided to surprise him and wanted to make his favourite human world food

-          Luckily, they already had enough ingrediants in the kitchen, so you didn’t have to go shopping as the first thing you’d do

-          Just as you finished, Beel came home. He got very excited to see you again

-          He took off his jacket and- oh no

-          He wanted to hug you, as was his habit even when in the Devildom, but upon seeing that heavy necklace, you had to move up your hands in defence

-          He got confused. Did he sweat too much and stinks now? Did you not like him anymore for whatever reason?

-          The biggest baby made confused puppy eyes, he just wanted to greet you

-          „Ah, I am sorry, could you please take the necklace off? Jewelry and especially jewelry like that makes me uncomfortable when I touch it.“

-          He sighed in relief. You didn’t hate him after all.

-          He quickly ran off, presumably to his room and came back in a minute, now without the chain necklace

-          You smiled happily and opened your arms, an invitation for him to hug and greet you

-          And he sure did!

-          He was just happy he could hug you again without you feeling uneasy about the situation

-          Doesn’t really ask anything else, just in case you’re not okay with talking about it, but he keeps that fact in mind and is now rarely seen with the chain on

Belphegor

-          You were once more taking a nap together. It became a pleasurable habit of yours to join Belphie. After all, you didn’t have to do anything and got some sweet sweet cuddles. What could be better?

-          Well, you finally managed to fall asleep

-          And Belphie got curious about your dreams, so he decided to visit your dream for once.

-          He was really there just to observe, he didn’t want to interfere with anything

-          He wondered what you’d dream about

-          Was it something really sweet? Would you go on an adventure to find the root of youth? Would you be enjoying a swim in a pool? Maybe you’d meet your friends from the human world

-          The posibilities were endless

-          What he didn’t count with, though, was the possibility of you having a nightmare

-          You seemed to be having a fight with two older humans. Maybe they were your parents?

-          You tried to persuade them not to make you wear the massive necklace the woman was holding

-          They had absolutely none of it

-          "Please, just don’t make me wear it. It’s not like it’s mandatory, nothing will really happen if I don’t put it on!“

-          „Nonsense! You need to! We chose this for you before you were even born, how dare you not want to wear it!“

-          "This youth, I swear, what is it that you want?! That it’s not made of silver?! OF GOLD?! Huh? Is that it? Are you really that spoiled?!“

-          "You don’t understand, I wouldn’t wear it even if it was made of the rarest metal ever! Why is it so difficult to understand it!“

-          Belphie was taken aback. He had no idea you were dealing with a struggle like that. When he thought about it, he realized you never wore any jewelry to anything, you always kept it simple with fabric patterns

-          He wondered if this dream was inspired by real life events

-          Why couldn’t some humans understand the boundaries of others was a hard thing for him to grasp

-          He decided to leave the dream and wake up for a bit. He felt you shivering and when he raised his head, he saw a pair of tears running down your cheeks

-          He hugged you tighter and fell asleep again, joining you in your dream

-          You were now alone, angry and upset at your parents

-          He came up to you and started to calm you down. You appreciated it. He couldn’t deny his curiousity and asked about the situation

-          Truns out talking about it helped you calm down more than anything and he spent the rest of the dream with you

Diavolo

-          Diavolo invited you over to hang out

-          He normally doesn’t have much time off, but since he took a liking to you, he managed to persuade Barbatos to give him more free time to be with you

-          Or he just straight up slacks from his work, he doesn’t really care

-          After sitting in the garden for a while and just catching up with each other, you suggested making anouther castle tour

-          Seriously, the castle is huge, you couldn’t fully enjoy it in a day or two, it took a while

-          He hapilly obliged, he knew the whole castle like the back of his hand

-          And there were so many stories connected to different parts of the castle

-          You loved listening to these stories, it was almost like a proffesional castle tour

-          Private, and for free and told by the actual owner

-          By now you at least vaguely remembered some of the more important royals except for Dia, Barbatos and the brothers. Maybe not in detail, but you can at least say you’ve already heard the name before

-          Today he decided to show you the treasury. You were curious what you’d see and if it also held some interesting stories to be told

-          Once the guards let you inside, you found yourself in a huge room with display boxes. Some of them were open

-          Inside the boxes was… jewelry. All different kinds, sizes and colours. You started to look over them

-          You admired the pieces for the fine craftmanship, you really did. Some of them were beautiful and breathtaking

-          Dia saw your awe and wanted you to experience as much as you can

-          "If you want, you can try some of them on, it’s okay.“ He beamed happily

-          You had to laugh a little. You got a bit nervous, but decided to calmly deny his proposition

-          "Don’t get me wrong, there are some beautiful pieces. The composition of some looks really nice! Some look so mild, yet they still say royalty. It’s almost as if it were engraved on them. But I am happy to just admire from aback, wearing jewelry makes my skin crawl. It’s something I’ve been dealing with my whole life.“

-          He nods

-          "That’s perfectly fine, too. I wouldn’t want to make you upset.“

-          He wonders if it is perhaps a common human thing and when you explain it’s extremely rare, he gets excited because he gets to experience something through you that is not common.

-          The rarity of this phobia makes him curious, so he may have some questions, but not as many as Satan

Barbatos

-          OH HE FINALLY GOT A DAY OFF

-          He needed it. He wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but he got slightly clumsier that day, which didn’t go without Diavolo noticing

-          He protested at first, but had to accept his fate anyway, because Diavolo insisted he take the day off

-          You wanted to spend the day in the mall and visit different shops to observe the differences between the Devildom and the Human world

-          You were supposed to write an essay about differences between these two worlds for the Human studies 101 subject

-          Why you had to take THAT class was completely unknown to you, but you attended anyway. I mean come on, those were some easy grades for you, since you were brought up there

-          And so Barbatos joined you on your adventure through the mall

-          Although there were some differences, most of the shops were similar to what you knew

-          Restaurants, cafés, boutiques, wine bars, adult toys stores, book stores, you name it

-          What you didn’t have in the human world was obviously magic tool stores, potion stores and potion igredients stores

-          Barbatos seemed to really enjoy talking about some of the peculiar potions that caught your eye, be it for their vibrant colours or the fact that some seemes to have sparkles in them

-          At last, you managed to come by goldsmith’s. When you saw this shop, you acted like you didn’t and went on your way to a tea house Barbatos suggested visiting after your tour

-          This surprised barbatos, since you spent some time at least writing the name of the shop down to make a note of it, but you weren’t even acknowledging the existence of this one store in particular

-          Once you both got yor tea in the tea house, he couldn’t help but ask why you just did that

-          "Oh, me and jewelry are old enemies. I don’t like wearing or even touching it, I just always want to wash my hands afterwards. I guess it’s sort of like your relationship with rats.“

-          When you mentioned rats, a shiver ran down his spine and immediately understood what you meant. He just took it as a part of you, the person he adored so much and didn’t qestion it any longer

-          He just suggested if you ever needed to vent, he’d be there for you

Solomon

-          You two made plans to bond together in his room in Purgatory Hall after school to let off some steam and vent to each other like human to human

-          This became a semi weekly tradition for you two, you both enjoyed it and you were glad you could relate to another human being

-          You were also staying for dinner that day, luckily for everyone, it was Simeon’s turn to cook

-          Don’t think he didn’t try to swap with him just so he could "impress“ you, though, he totally did

-          You were glad Simeon didn’t budge

-          After eating your meal, you both just flopped onto the couch and just decided to relax a bit

-          In silence

-          He enjoyed these silent moments, the joy of doing nothing together

-          You two soon drifted off to sleep on the couch, so when Simeon was about to tell you it was time to get you back to the House of Lamentation, and found you two asleep next to each other like that, he let Lucifer know you’d be staying the night with them

-          When you woke up and checked your D.D.D. you  almost jumped out of your skin, but then saw the message from Lucifer knowing about your situation through Simeon

-          You decided to scroll through social media, while Solomon was still sleeping

-          He soon woke up when he heard you looking through memes and trying not to laugh. You were failing miserably, though

-          Oh well, what’s done is done, now he is watching you scroll and when you find something funny, you both laugh, but not too loud, to not wake up Luke. It was around 11PM after all

-          Whenever you scrolled past an ad that was advertising jewelry, Solomon noticed you were furrowing your brows every time you found one

-          What’s more, you even hid the ads, hoping you wouldn’t get another one, but they just kept coming

-          You groaned

-          "Do they really bother you that much?“ Solomon asked sleepily

-          "I normally don’t bat an eye when I see an ad, but I do not and have never worn any jewelry, since I have kosmemophobia and touching or wearing it makes me uncomfortable. But even if I keep hiding these, they just keep popping up like they want to change my mind about it. I would much rather have ads for overprized pencil sharpeners.“

-          Well that was something he didn’t know about you. And he couldn’t even say he knew people that had the same problem as you, since he either didn’t notice it or he really just never met anyone like that

-          He asked a few questions about it, since he didn’t know anything about this phobia, and was glad he could learn something new. Even better that it was about you

Simeon

-          You decided to have picnic in a park

-          Not the most private setting but it’d do

-          You were just chatting about your lives, you mostly telling stories from the House of Lamentation, him mostly talking about his ideas for a new story

-          You were his huge inspiration and sometimes he straight up wrote down one of your stories. He assured you he would mention you as a co-author if he ever decided to publish those

-          It was getting rather late, so you packed up, carefully put all the plates and bowls back into the big basket and folded the blanket you’ve been sitting on the whole day

-          When heading back to the Purgatory Hall, he mostly talked about Luke’s different pastries. Just the description made you hyped up and you wondered if he was making something at that moment

-          You know he did. When you got back, your nose was hit with the lovely smell of cinnamon and apples and you couldn’t wait to try whatever he made

-          You had to put the things on their places first, though

-          Simeon asked you to put the basket to its place and you agreed. What you forgot though, was that its place was in a cupboard… too high for you to reach

-          Lucky for you, you knew a few spells and levitation was one of the first ones you purposely learned

-          Once Simeon saw you looking at the cupboard, he wanted to suggest you to take the folding stairs to help you, but you declined

-          "I want to do this alone, I know I can do it.“

-          He smiled and nodded, he knew he couldn’t change your mind

-          First you managed to open the doors and then you carefully levitated the basket to its place. While you were directing it where to go, your mind momentarily lost its concentration at the basket as you stared intensely at the Ring of Light on you hand

-          The name described it perfectly. It was literally a small band made out of pure light hugging one of your fingers. It was othwerwise incorporeal and only visibly showed when you used your magic

-          It took you a second to regain your concentration and you finally put it to its place

-          However, Simeon definitely noticed your momentary loss of composure there

-          "What made your mind wander off so suddenly?“ he asked, genuinly curious

-          "Oh it’s just… I am still not used to seeing the ring on my finger. It’s so weird, it doesn’t feel like anything, it just shines and what’s most surprising, I don’t feel like washing my hands constantly. It’s what would happen with normal jewelry. I am just not used to it, it’ll probably take some time.“

-          Huh! Okay then! He was just glad it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle

-          In all his long life he never met anyone who would openly speak about being disturbed by jewelry, so this was new experience to him

-          Will have questions, but reassures you you don’t have to answer any questions that might make you too uncomfortable

Luke

-          You two were assigned to find some rare herb that was supposed to be growing in the field

-          Fortunately it wasn’t far from Purgatory Hall so even if you somehow got lost, there was a high chance of actually finding your way back

-          While you were at it, you took it as the perfect time to bond with the young angel

-          So while you were searching, you both started weaving flower crowns

-          It was a fun activity and you even got to tell each other stories

-          You were reminiscing about the time you learned how to weave flower crowns and Luke was telling you things about the Celestial Realm and Michael

-          Once you were both finished, you put on each other’s flower crown and continued looking for the herb

-          Somehow it didn’t take too long for the two of you to find it

-          When you were picking it up, you flower crown fell from your head, but you managed to catch it… and not break it

-          Luke almost shrieked, but sighed in relief that nothing happened to it

-          "I have an idea, what if I transform these to not wilt! You know, like real crowns!“

-          With the mention of that, you just had to ask this question

-          "What would they then be out of, though? Metal? Plastic?“

-          He didn’t understand the intention of your question, so he straight up asked what you meant by that question

-          "Ah, excuse me, I’ll explain. I am kosmemophobic and especially metal jewelry makes me uncomfortable. I they were ot of plastic, though, I wouldn’t mind.“

-          Oh, well that explains it. He reassured you they would feel like out of resin, so you didn’t have to worry at all

-          Now you both have matching flower crowns and you can always remember Luke when you look at it

[koolkat9]

Hetalia Poly Ship Week: Day 4

@hetalia-polyship-week

I’m so sorry this is a day late. Life got a bit hectic and I had a bit of trouble finding my footing with uni so...yeah...this also turned out pretty long. But here it is. This was actually so fun to write despite life being crappy these past two days. Forgive this little rant, onto the fic!

Prompt: Fairytale

Relationship: GerFruk (though it's not super romantic, more like meeting each other for the first time)

Word Count: 2022

Author’s Note: This takes place in a world where all traditional fairytales exist, but what happens when characters of those fairytales collide one fateful night?

Francis-> Rapunzel (Rapunzel)

Ludwig-> Cinderella (Cinderella)

Arthur-> Beauty and the Beast (Beast)

At Midnight

God his feet were killing him. One night. One night was all Ludwig had asked for and now he was running through the forest with only one boot and tattered clothing. But that’s what he got for trusting a pesky fairy and losing track of time. Eventually, he came upon a clearing and decided to stop for a moment and gain his bearings.

He hadn’t thought this through. First, he didn’t keep track of the time, second, he ran without even thinking as to where he was going to go, and of all places, he headed towards the forest. Now he was lost in the middle of the night, freezing cold, probably a long way from any form of help. At least it was far better than home.

Which brought up another question. If he did find someone or his way back to town, where would he go? Home? Could it even be called that when you weren’t even welcomed there, no one to love and worked to the bone by those who should? But what other place was there when you were penniless?

Just when Ludwig thought all hope was lost, he heard a faint voice coming from the trees in front of him. Without any other lead, he began making his way towards the sound, hoping that whoever it was could help him find his way out of here.

He was led to another clearing, but in the center of this one stood a tower overgrown by vines and other plant life. Ludwig would have assumed it was abandoned if not for the blond man at the top singing away. It was beautiful, He was beautiful with long blond hair that went way past his shoulders. As he went in for a closer look, he stepped on a twig, snapping it and bringing attention to himself. The man in the tower immediately stopped, cowering into the stone walls, but still peeking out to survey the situation. “Who’s there?” he asked, voice wavering slightly.

Ludwig made his way right under the window so the man could see him. “I apologize for starling you, but I seem to have gotten lost-”

“Mon Dieu, what happened to you?”

Ludwig looked down at his ripped garments, ruined by his step-siblings before looking back up. “A little family altercation. But that doesn’t matter now. Do you by chance know the way back to town?”

The man’s eyes went wide. “There is a town near here?” he asked, sticking his head out the window.

“Uh...yes...I-I take it that means you don’t know.”

The man was silent for a moment, not looking at Ludwig and instead, his gaze was cast straight ahead as if in thought. “Hello?” Ludwig called to get the man’s attention again.

“Oh… sorry. Yeah… No, I'm sorry I don’t.” He looked around before continuing, “But I can’t just leave you out here like this. Give me a moment mon cher.” There was a light thumping from above then a loud crash signaling the fall of something. To Ludwig’s relief, it was followed by a string of French curses which let him know the man above was okay. Said man returned to the window moments later, throwing a thick rope down, or at least what appeared to be a rope. When Ludwig took hold of the rope he realized it was actually hair, the man’s hair to be exact. Ludwig looked up, given the man a concerned look.

“Don’t worry. I’ve done this dozens of times, I’ll be fine.”

With a deep breath, Ludwig began his climb with the man helping him by pulling him up. Soon enough he was safely in the confines of the tower.

“Couldn’t I have just used the door?” Ludwig asked.

“Unfortunately the stairs are broken. Oh please, come sit, sit.” The man took hold of Ludwig’s wrist, guiding him towards a couch.

Ludwig quirked a brow at the man’s answer. If the stairs were broken how did he get down? He couldn’t use his own hair, could he?

“So what should I call you mon cher?”

“Ah...ah...Ludwig. And you?”

“Francis! It's nice to meet you.” The man, Francis, was quiet for a moment before adding, "So there really is a village nearby?”

“Yes. Why? Have you never been?”

Francis gave a sad smile. “I can’t say I have. I haven't even been out of the tower since I was little."

Ludwig was taken aback by this. After a few moments of trying to reach for something to say, he figured there was nothing he could. "I'm sorry to hear that," he stated instead. "Not that it is the exact same, but I wasn't exactly allowed outside much either."

Francis sighed "My mother is just protective. I wonder if she's aware of how close we are to town. Perhaps that would make her trips shorter. Then again it's nice to be rid of her for a few days."

"At least she loves you. Mine only keeps me around to do the housework, cooking, and use as a verbal punching bag."

“Oh, Ludwig.” Francis gave him a sympathetic look before surprisingly pulling him into a hug. It was nice. Ludwig couldn’t recall the last time he had a hug. It was probably right before his brother died and all this hell began. Hesitantly, he returned the action, wrapping his arms around the Frenchman’s waist.

He smelled like lavender and his embrace was so warm that Ludwig felt himself melting against him. For a moment the thought of just staying here crossed his mind. The hug and thought were cut short however by the sound of crashing below.

Francis and Ludwig pulled away, looking at each other before turning towards the trap door that was supposed to lead to the stairs and entrance. They silently agreed to ignore it, but when another bang was heard below, Ludwig decided he should at least try to see what it was. He quietly made his way over to the door before carefully throwing it open.

Below was dark and he could barely make out the large silhouette of some creature below. It grunted as if in pain, its shoulders shaking.

“Get me a candle,” Ludwig ordered. Francis stumbled off the couch they were sitting on before collecting a candle and match and lighting the wick.

When Ludwig brought the light down to get a better look at the creature he found golden fur wrapped in what appeared to be a cloak. The beast snapped its head towards them showing a wolf-like face with fangs protruding. Ludwig fell back out of shock and a bit of fear. He had read about such monstrous creatures in books when he was a child and how they came to eat naughty children in the dark of night. Despite this, he found himself peeking down once more when he heard it whimper, ignoring Francis’ whispers of concern and protest.

The beast looked up at him with pleading green eyes, ears pulled back in discomfort. Upon further inspection, the blond fur was mixed with the crimson of blood. Something in Ludwig’s heart twisted and he was unable to leave it there. He looked around for a way to get himself down. “Francis, you think I could lower me down?”

The blond gave him a horrified look. “What the hell are you thinking? I don’t know what’s down there, but judging by your reaction it can’t be good. Mother told me all about evil creatures-”

“You don’t have to come down, but I’m going.”

Though he grumbled some more protests, Francis lowered his hair down, giving Ludwig a rope to climb.

The lower level was damp and musty. Ludwig held onto the candle tightly as he approached the figure which had frozen up. “Hello?” Ludwig called only to receive a ferocious roar in return. He stiffened, but pushed on. “I don’t know if you can understand me, but I want to help you.”

The beast cowered away. It seemed more scared than anything. “Wait right here,” Ludwig said before returning below the trap door. “Francis, could you get me bandages or something to wrap up some wounds.” Francis disappeared from above, but shuffling could be heard.

“I’m coming down,” Francis announced, reappearing. “I’m not letting you face this alone mon ami.”

Before Ludwig could protest, Francis was jumping down and Ludwig had no choice but to catch him.

This earned a growl from the creature. Francis hid behind Ludwig at the sound. “All bark, no bite,” Ludwig whispered in assurance. “Do you have the bandages?”

Francis handed some clothes over. Not ideal, but they’d work. Cautiously, he approached the beast who was cowering into the corner he was in. “It's okay,” Ludwig murmured, “we just want to help you.”

When he got closer, he noticed where the blood was coming from, a nasty gash on the creature’s side. Crouching down to get a better view, Ludwig pushed a cloth against it. The beast snarled in pain, but relaxed ever so slightly as Ludwig began to wrap up the wound. Francis had also made his way over, petting the head of the creature in comfort.

“It's like a big puppy,” Francis laughed lightly, earning a growl from the beast. The Frenchman backed up, scared it would snap, but it didn’t. Still, Francis decided it was best to keep his distance.

Ludwig only shook his head before finishing up the wrapping. “There. That should be good for now,” he sighed, standing up once more.

“Thank you…”

Francis and Ludwig look towards each other and then at the beast.

“This is when you say you’re welcome,” the beast grumbled, sitting himself up.

“You can talk?” Francis breathed.

“Yes. How rude of you to assume otherwise.”

For something so big and scruffy, the creature spoke quite eloquently though sharply and his accent posh and proper.

Francis went to bite back, but Ludwig interrupted. “So...What’s your name? Mine’s Ludwig and this is Francis.”

“Arthur.”

They lapsed into a silence, Ludwig and Francis trying to make sense of it all and Arthur glaring at the two. Once he had regained his bearings, Arthur pulled himself up and began dragging himself towards the door. “Well, you’ve been quite hospitable, but I really should get going," he noted sarcastically.

“Wait,” Ludwig said, jumping to his feet, “you are in no shape to be up.”

“And what do you suggest I do? Wait down here in the mud and mold. No thank you.”

“You could always stay upstairs with me and Lud,” Francis suggested.

“And how do you suppose we get up there without stairs?” Arthur sneered.

“Good point.”

The three returned to silence, thinking of what to do next.

Arthur sighed. “Okay… Here’s an idea. My castle isn’t that far from here. If you are so concerned about me you can accompany me there and as payment for your help you can stay there for tonight.”

Francis' brows furrowed, a hesitant look crossing his face. “Francis, you don’t have to come," Ludwig said. "I’m sure I can manage on my own.”

“Non. I’ll come. I’ve been locked up here far too long. Plus...it's not like I can get back up anyway and my mother will...she’ll be...so mad if she finds everything like this.”

That statement worried Ludwig far more than it should have. He tried not to think about it or the fearful look in Francis’ eye. Instead, he turned his attention to Arthur. He helped steady the beast, wrapping his arm (paw? claw?) around his shoulder to support him. Francis followed suit on the other side. With that settled they took off into the night, following Arthur's directions

It was truly a strange night. What was supposed to be his night to relax and forget about his troubles turned into one of adventure... which came with new troubles. But as Ludwig walked through the forest with Arthur and Francis he couldn’t help but feel free, relieved, like his life was changing for the better. He shook his head, telling himself he was just tired and everything was strange which lead to this feeling. Right now what mattered was getting Arthur to that castle.

(I may continue this once I finish up with ‘In the Deep.’ Gosh, so many fic ideas, so little time)

[smileposting]

s4mweek day 1 - secret

[ao3 link] [it’s got author’s notes!]

“Well,” he says, tilting his head to look up at the flower child like their boxing glove is a sword pointed at his throat. But he knows no matter how hard he tries to make it seem otherwise, there’s nothing noble about the gesture, no pretty and quiet defiance like the kind you’d see in a hero. “I suppose this is it, Flower Child.”

Flower Kid stands over him, haloed in the fluorescent lighting of the office behind them. The hood of their jacket casts such a harsh shadow that Habit can only see their face from the nose down. A trail of blood trickles down from their mouth. 

“One more shove and you’ve gotten your way,” he says, ignoring the taste of bile, the bite of glass digging into his palm, the way he can’t clench his jaw properly and can’t even tell himself that it was all worth it in the end anymore. “Perhaps it’s time. A younger me would do the same.” The balcony railing is low. Even if Flower Kid chose to have mercy on him for whatever reason, if he were to stand up and back away now, he’d most likely trip and fall to his doom anyway. The thought is almost comforting; no perpetrators, no victims, just the culmination of one very foolish man’s mistakes. If nothing else, at least he can have this, the knowledge that in the end, everyone got exactly what they deserved.

Flower Kid rolls their eyes - or at least, Habit assumes they roll their eyes, based on the minute curl of their lip and their head turning left for the briefest of moments. They pull their arm back.

He flinches, bowing his head and closing his eyes in one swift motion, and braces himself for the impact of a second hit that never comes.

There’s a pause. And then the dull thud of leather against linoleum. What?

 He doesn’t dare to let go of the breath he’s holding, but he does, against his better judgement, crack one eye open. The boxing glove lays discarded on the floor, forgotten as the flower child rummages through their bouquet. “Flower Child…?”

“Enough theatrics,” they sign. They’re remarkably articulate for someone who should either still be waiting for the laughing gas to wear off or should be doubled over in pain from the earlier extraction. “I have something for you.”

And then they turn around. When Boris sees what they have in their arms, the shock of it strikes him so hard he might as well have been punched after all. He lunges for it like a starved animal, seized by a sudden ferocity, and it takes everything in him not to snarl in frustration when Flower Kid holds it just out of his reach.

“First,” they sign. “You promise that you won’t hurt anyone else.”

“There’s no one else left to hurt,” he pleads, arms outstretched plaintively. “Please…?”

A silence follows as Flower Kid seems to contemplate their next move, eyeing Boris like a cat sizing up a pigeon. Then they relent, and Lily is finally back in his arms.

“Where did you get this?” Boris asks after what feels like hours spent on the floor of his office, running his hands over thick, waxy petals, of reveling in the feeling of the flowerpot in his hands, in its cool terracotta. He knows the answer, but something in him demands some confirmation.

Flower Kid shrugs. “Grew it myself.”

Silence. A tacit understanding. They sit down on the floor across from him.

“You know everything about me, then,” says Boris. It isn’t a question.

“Not everything. Just what was important to know.”

“Right,” he snorts. “That I’m a sad, selfish little man-baby who takes it out on everyone else. Very important.”

“Right now, yeah,” they concede, earning them the stink eye of the century from Boris despite the honesty. “But you don’t have to be one forever.” Their movements slow down, and it suddenly strikes him that they’re scrambling for the right words just as much as he is. “I know this doesn’t feel like that great of an ending, but... maybe that just means it isn’t an ending at all. For you, anyway.”

Boris blinks. “And for you?”

Flower Kid takes a moment to look around the office. The lighting’s grown dimmer, flickering on occasion. “Yeah. I think I’m done here.” And then they stand up as though they had never been on the ground at all, heading towards the doorway.

“Wait.”

They pause, turning back to look at him quizzically.

Suddenly, Boris’ mouth is dry. Idiot, a little voice tells him. You whine and beg for people to stay and when they do, you can’t even be bothered to give them a reason?

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he says, cringing at how stilted his words are. “Maybe you could… listen to what I have to say?”

“...Yeah. I can do that.”

Oh, goodness. Okay. Now he really has to think of something good. “I…” he pauses to swallow before starting again. How do they do this in movies? “I thought I had destroyed all those seeds. Squashed them flat and buried them deep, deep where they wouldn’t resurface. I used to be a naive flower child like you-”

Somehow, Boris gets the distinct impression that Flower Kid raises an eyebrow at that. He elects to ignore it and continue.

“ - But I gave up believing that everyone could be saved. I learned that you gotta break a few eggs to make a happiness omelette. Or, teeth-”

Wait.

Oh, wait.

“Teeth!” Boris hisses, scrambling to his feet. “Flower Kid, your teeth - oh, how did it - how did I-?!”

The closer Boris gets, the further Flower Kid backs away, pulling the hem of their hoodie up over the visible parts of their face. “It’s not that big a deal,” they sign hurriedly. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine!” Boris exclaims in what should have been a booming voice, but came out as more of a faint scream. “You’ll be fine?! I tore out your teeth - I didn’t use anaesthetic.” His breath is coming out in short, labored huffs as he begins to pace about the office, bringing a hand to his mouth as though it’ll do anything to stop the ensuing tidal wave of anxiety. “Oh, God. Oh, my God-”

A hand reaches out to grip his shoulder, urging Boris to look Flower Kid directly in the face. As much as the two of them can manage, anyway - now that they’re both standing up, Flower Kid has to crane their neck a little to look up at him, face full of steely, stone-faced determination. Then they open their mouth, revealing a full, if not bloodied, set of teeth. 

Boris’ jaw hangs open in kind, unsure if he should scream or sigh in relief or ask how any of this is happening right now. “No,” is what he finally settles on.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean,” he sputters. “That this should not be happening! You should be writhing on the floor in pain! And have at least twelve less teeth than you do right now!”

“Are you… angry, that isn’t the case?”

“Yes! I mean, no - I don’t know,” he says, throwing his free hand up before it comes to rest on his temple, the other still holding Lily protectively against his stomach. “...People don’t just… grow teeth back, Flower Kid. If they did, we would not be here right now.”

“Debatable,” they sign. “Anyway, I’ve never had the best relationship with things like physics. Or lasting damage. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Habit groans. “Instead of punching me off the balcony you’ve decided to mess with my head so much it will kill me. Is that it?”

“Hardly. Besides, you’ve seen weirder. You’ve done weirder.”

Boris opens his mouth to protest before closing it again, lips pressed together into a thin line. “Touché.”

“There we go. Think of it like this: I keep my mouth shut about the part where you performed impromptu dental surgery on me, and in return you discover why I throw myself down stairwells all the time.”

Boris blinks, his grip on the flowerpot tightening. “I… I don’t-”

“I get it, you wanna do the right thing,” Flower Kid assures him. “But believe me when I say that it’s way harder to do that from jail, and I don’t think five to ten years in relative isolation from the outside world would do your mental health any favors.”

“That’s-”

“You’ll probably still get charged with medical fraud, though. Nothing I can really do there. Sorry.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” Boris finally manages to get a word in, much to Flower Kid’s apparent surprise. “Flower Kid, I hurt you. Badly. You were bleeding... You really didn’t feel any of it?”

They study Boris for a moment before responding. “Sure, I did. Why do you think I punched you?” When Boris doesn’t laugh, they sheepishly add, “It only hurts for a couple seconds. I’m used to it.”

“You’re still hurting yourself,” Boris says quietly. “Flower Kid, that’s no way to live.”

“Look who’s talking,” they retort, and immediately wince. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be helping you.”

“No, no, you… have a point,” Boris sighs. “You’ve done enough, anyway. I think it’s time for you to go.”

Flower Kid frowns. “What about you?”

Boris looks around the office with a small grimace, “I have a few things to clean up, first. But I’ll follow when I’m done.”

They tilt their head and nod - not totally satisfied, but it will have to do for now. “Take care of Lily.”

“I will,” says Boris, managing a half smile despite his exhaustion. “Take care of yourself, too, Flower Child.”

They hold up their hand as they walk away, snapping their fingers and thumb together a few times as they do to mimic someone talking. Yeah, yeah, it says. No promises.

Boris wants to - needs to - say something before they leave. He needs to tell them how much good they’ve done; how much good they’ll continue to do; what a fool he is.

But before he knows it, they’re gone.