#tw water/floating

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 8: Sensory Deprivation

(Disclaimer: neither of the characters in this story belong to me. Both Phantom and Bones are the property of Nathan Sharp/Give Heart Productions.)

(Trigger Warnings: implications of illegal business, implied chronic pain, mentions of death/dying, descriptions of water/floating, skin-flaying, exposed bones, blood, similarities to an out-of-body experience, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13

Out of habit, Bones cracked his knuckles as he wandered down the hall. 

He had no idea why he’d developed aforementioned habit; it wasn’t exactly uncommon for his joints to crack with enough volume that you’d expect them to start glowing in the dark. Then again, he’d had more than enough time to learn how to tune out those noises. Even when he found himself in areas that managed to be eerily quiet.

Like this one, for instance. 

A decent amount of time had passed since coworkers and customers alike had vacated the club. All the lights had been turned off. Now, had Bones still been fully alive, that would’ve caused problems (mainly him getting an excuse to fuck up someone else’s night due to tripping over the decor a few too many times). However, Bones was not fully alive. Death was strange—yes, it took a lot of things away, but for whatever reason, it also ended up having a few things to give. 

Not like that made it any better, mind you. 

Having supernaturally heightened senses didn’t make up for having fragmented memories, for having to operate under a nasty mixture of exhaustion and restlessness, for having to know that you’re part of the proof that something is fundamentally wrong with the world—

“Boooones,” a familiar voice called from elsewhere in the building. “While I always appreciate lurking for dramatic effect, I don’t have all night.” 

“. . .Yeah, because you’ve never taken your sweet damn time on things,” Bones snapped back, knowing that his terse tone wouldn’t hide how he’d flinched. 

“Touch’e, but that’s only when I know I can get away with it,” Phantom replied, sounding much closer than he actually was. “C’mon, you’re gonna want to see this.” 

Bones rolled his eyes, but still turned on his heel and started traipsing in the direction of the sound. “Sure I am.”

  Despite there still being a few good employers out there, any relationship between worker and boss would always be just a tad strange. Especially if the boss in question was an outer monstrosity in disguise.

While Bones didn’t exactly fear Phantom—as a revenant, Bones was typically one to be feared—he still knew better than to just let his guard down around him. He wasn’t about to try calling himself a saint, but seeing some of the things Phantom had done to “take care of business” made him a bit relieved that he couldn’t sleep anymore. Other times, Phantom’s eccentricities just got on his nerves.

Bones knew things could’ve been much, much worse. Yeah, it was a complete and total bitch to have hollow pain thriving inside him like a colony of parasites, but part of him still understood that he was making the best of his circumstances. 

Eventually, Bones found himself behind the bar counter, facing the huge cabinet that had been built into the entire fourth wall of this room. He paused, having to dig through the duffel bag of stuff he’d been instructed to bring tonight. It only took a few muttered profanities to convince said bag to let him fish out a silver key: its bow was adorned by a picture of a flower with an eyeball in the center of its petals.

Bones ran his fingers along the bottom of the center shelf, quickly finding a well-hidden hole that the key’s biting cuts fit perfectly into. A loud CLACK rang through the empty room as he turned the key to one side, prompting the cabinet to perform an amateur recreation of The Red Sea. The organized collection of bottles rattled on their shelves, but not a single one went shattering to the floor. 

Bones hovered in the familiar, freshly-revealed hollow doorway. It wasn’t imposing to him; he’d done this at least a hundred times by now. This hidden staircase was just so fucking steep. He knew for an absolute certainty that it would be impossible to run up or down it without tripping on one step and bashing your head against another. 

Dull pain flared around his ankles and raced up to his kneecaps. Bones ground his jaw, putting a deathgrip on the railway as he began descending. The halves of the cabinet reconnected behind him, but that didn’t leave him in total darkness. Colorful light flickered at the bottom of the stairs, casting shadows that danced similarly to those of a fire. They seemed to be trying to reach up along the steps. . .

Though he didn’t stop walking, Bones felt his hackles raise. They didn’t lower when he realized that soft music was slithering into the air. 

The club’s basement was in a state of functional chaos. Chests and crates that came in a plethora of sizes almost outlined the room, stacked on top of one another and pushed up against the walls. It always felt like there was a different amount each time Bones had to venture down here. (It also wasn’t one of Bones’ responsibilities to keep track of them all. He’d already learned the hard way that you couldn’t just open them.) 

He immediately discovered Phantom in the center of the room, his trademark claw-handled cane softly thudding against the floor as he paced around. . .something.

The unfamiliar object seemed to be eight feet long and four feet wide. It was coated in a silver finish, shaped similarly to a snake’s egg. The top half of it hung in the air, supported by simple hinges on either side. It glowed from the inside with that same color-shifting light. It was the source of the music, too. Bones’ instincts told him that those gentle notes were being produced by whatever was in there. Like a monster’s voice echoing from the bottom of a well. 

“What the hell is that supposed to be?” Bones called, feeling his brow furrow as he loomed by the foot of the stairs. 

Phantom came to a halt on one side of the glowing object, turning his head to offer a cryptic smile. “I sent a message about having something in store for you earlier this week, didn’t I?”

“The novel-text you sent me was just rambling about how I needed to keep your clients in line because you’d be busy rearranging the reality in this part of the building,” Bones replied pointedly. 

Phantom clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “This is a sensory deprivation tank. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about them by now.”

“I have,” Bones argued, “but unless you’ve cooked up some weird plan to turn this place into a spa, I’m not sure why we suddenly need one.”

Phantom beckoned Bones to come closer. “I mean, what we calculated as your deathday is coming up.” His grin slightly widened to showcase how his teeth were slowly but surely becoming sharper. “And I’d be a real jackass if I didn’t get you a present, right?”

Bones scoffed as he wandered over, hoping his aggravation would mask his reluctance. He made sure to keep some distance from Phantom, standing by the opposite side of the tank. “Not like that would stop you from being a jackass every other day.”

“Meh, fair point,” Phantom confessed. “But don’t worry, I won’t say I told you so after you see how great this thing is.” He reached up to pat the tank’s lid as though it was the hood of some snazzy car. This helped Bones finally realize that the tank’s exterior wasn’t smooth. Rather, it was covered in symbols that looked like animalistic mouths and eyes. He couldn’t tell whether they’d been carved into or sculpted onto the original material.

Before he could stop himself, Bones peered at the tank’s interior.

His stomach immediately sank. 

The color wasn’t beaming from a light further inside. No, the tank’s liquid itself glimmered. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve assumed that a bunch of bathbombs had just dissolved in there (and that the combination of all their colors miraculously wasn’t reduced to some ugly shade of brown). 

The liquid also looked fresh,  clean. And while that wouldn’t be something to complain about. . .it meant that Bones could see the bottom of the tank. The longer he stared, the more the tank just seemed to keep going down, down, down into a gaping black pit. Even with how far away it appeared, it still looked so much larger than the tank itself. 

“Pretty sure these things are only supposed to hold ten inches of water,” he muttered, unable to take his eyes away from the hole. 

“First of all, the stuff in there isn’t water,” Phantom casually mentioned. “Second of all, that capacity is only the standard for the tanks that humans use.”

Bones’ neck gave a sickening cRiIiCk as he turned his head to stare at Phantom. “. . .If that stuff isn’t water, then what the fuck is it?”

Phantom shrugged. “Not important.”

“I’m inCLINED TO DISAGREE.” 

“There’s no hydrochloric acid in the elixir,” Phantom tried. At the way Bones snarled, he continued, “And even if there was, you know it wouldn’t kill you.” 

“That doesn’t mean it couldn’t hurt me in a way that might make my limbo even worse!”

“I never said anything about hurting.” Phantom sighed. “Look, as much as I’d love to infodump, I literally can’t tell you how I managed to whip it up. It’s just one of those types of knowledge that only certain species can process.”

“Oh, so you think calling me an idiot in a roundabout way is just gonna reassure me?!”

“Hey.” Phantom growled, a newly-forked tongue flicking out of his mouth. His voice seemed to grow, as the air now shook when he spoke. “It’s not my fault that so much shit doesn’t make sense. I didn’t write the rules for these kinds of things. I could’ve used the past few days and nights to get plenty of other shit done, but instead, I focused on building this because I wanted to try and help you out.” He took a single step forward, thin columns of smoke beginning to drift out of his eyes. “So don’t put any fucking words in my mouth, alright?”

Bones’ mouth opened and closed with nothing coming out. While the eye-vapor didn’t actually float near him, the smell still had quite a bite to it. Not to mention how it made his throat feel like sandpaper. He subconsciously straightened his back, though he was still stubborn enough to keep grimacing. He dipped his head for just a second or two to get the point across: Fine, I get it, you can stop emitting surreal dread now. 

Phantom responded with a short, low hum. The smoke stopped pouring as he blinked. “Anyway,” he pronounced. “There’s a reason sensory deprivation therapy is such a hot topic. Several reasons, in fact: at first, it was thought to just help with psychological problems. Now, it’s been proven to have plenty of physical benefits, too.” 

“Thanks for the reminder that I have a lot of problems in general,” Bones snorted. “But like you just said: that stuff applies to tanks made for humans. So what does that mean for this tank?”

“It means,” Phantom replied, exasperation seeping into his mischievous calm, “that this tank will work even better than the ones made for humans. Because I’ve designed it to give its user an experience that human bodies can’t handle.”

“It’s kinda impossible to list all the things humans can’t handle.” Bones glanced back down into the tank. The dark cavity at the bottom seemed to be stirring the liquid all around it. The odd, subtle movement almost resembled breathing. 

And yet. . .a voice in his rotten mind started begging him to touch the elixir, to dive into the tank headfirst. Another voice popped up, snidely quoting, This is my hole! It was made for me! (It made more sense than the vibes the tank was giving off, since manga was one of the few things that actually didn’t frustrate Bones these days.)

“What makes this experience so special?” Bones inquired before any vague euphemisms could barge their way into the strange compulsion.

“That’s something you’ll have to find out yourself,” Phantom answered. “I’ve already given it a test run, but I’m pretty sure it can’t have the exact same effect on whoever else uses it.” 

“Wow. That’s not concerning at all. This sounds so damn promising,” Bones deadpanned. 

“Oh, c’mon! It’s functioning safely!” Phantom contended, slightly throwing up his arms. “Think, Bones: you’re my right-hand. Why would I want to hurt one of the most capable people on my payroll?” 

“Why are you obsessed with harvesting the souls of your contractors?” Bones retorted. “You pretty much never have a reason to do something, but that doesn’t exactly stop you.” 

“You’re just complimenting my work ethic, y’know,” Phantom smirked. 

Bones huffed an agitated sigh, feeling the bags under his eyes actively grow wider and darker. A splintery sensation stabbed into his brain (a tiny part of his skull had probably tried to cave in).  

Phantom tilted his head, taking a few steps closer. “Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Don’t you remember the voodoo dolls we started selling last year?”

“How could I forget?” Bones murmured, holding back a shudder at the images of Phantom’s body contorting in time with that first test doll. 

“Well, those have proven to be pretty good painkillers for you, right?”

“. . .Right,” Bones relented. 

Phantom nodded. “That’s what this tank is meant to be. Another type of painkiller for you.” By now, his demeanor had returned to its usual levels of smug and shit-eating. But Bones was quick to spot something else in Phantom’s eyes. He didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t seem malevolent. “I’ve adjusted the tank’s settings; your session will only be fifteen minutes long. Plenty of time for you to see how you like it without feeling trapped. Just try it out, okay?”

Bones felt his lip start to bleed before he’d even began chewing it. He paced around the tank, inspecting every part of it that was in eyeshot. There was no lock on the top half, no hidden compartments anywhere. The only parts of it that didn’t look normal were its depth and that chasm. . .

Then again, Phantom was a chaos deity. Bones was the living dead. Normal wasn’t really an option for anything that involved either of them.

“Fine,” Bones eventually proclaimed. “But if this does end up doing something I don’t like—”

“There’s only so much you can do to me, and even that won’t stick,”  Phantom interjected, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

As he spun his cane in his hands, his skin started burning from the inside. . .Well, it quickly ended up burning on the outside, too, since flames erupted from his eyes and mouth. The fire enveloped Phantom, then spent the next few seconds coiling around in the air. At least twenty eyes stared at Bones. Bones stared right back, folding his arms across his chest. Leave it to Phantom to go apeshit with dramatic exits. 

The monstrous display surged up through the ceiling, leaving an assortment of blisters to spread along the paint. Even after it completely vanished, that still didn’t stop Phantom from calling, “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”  

And with that, Bones was suddenly alone in the club’s basement. His ears rang as he paced a few more laps around the tank, still searching for any threats. Or, his ears tried to ring, at least. That soft music crawled through the tank’s liquid and up into the air. He still had no idea what could be producing it, but he couldn’t deny how...grounding it felt. 

Having cameras down here would’ve just been a complete idiot-move on Phantom’s part. Still, Bones retreated to the darkest corner of the basement, dragging his duffel bag along. A couple minutes passed before he trudged back over, letting the tank’s glow stretch over him and the bleach-dye trunks he was now wearing. 

Bones stood before the tank, pursing his lips, giving it one more tense stare. When the tank failed to reveal itself to be a mimic or spontaneously combust, he carefully lowered himself to sit on the lower rim. He instinctively grit his teeth, bracing himself as his feet dropped into the elixir with a soft splash. 

He didn’t touch the bottom of the tank, obviously. The elixir seemed to softly churn around his legs. It felt. . .just like water. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t hot, either. Bones gave a few experimental kicks. Ripples were sent shivering throughout the tank, but that was pretty much it. It didn’t start boiling. No swarms of piranhas manifested. 

After a few more seconds, Bones finally barked a resounding, “Fuck it.” He reached up to grab hold of the tank’s top half, pulling it closed over him as he pushed himself off the rim. 

Due to no longer needing air in his lungs, Bones didn’t automatically float like a human would. Despite all the things he’d forgotten about his former life, the basic necessity of swimming clung to his mind like a stubborn leech. He stared down at the chasm so far beneath him. The chasm stared right back, not really contributing unless you counted whatever creature could potentially be lurking in its darkness.

The music got a bit louder, now that it was more contained, but it somehow didn’t bounce along the tank’s ceiling. 

Curiosity wormed its way into Bones’ paranoia. He swam a few laps around the tank’s perimeter, still testing, still waiting. The thought of circling like a shark made him feel a bit more secure, a bit more in control. 

Even so, he eventually got bored of it. 

If he wanted to see what this tank could actually do for him, then he’d have to stay relatively still.

So, Bones paddled into the center of the elixir. 

He maneuvered himself onto his back, letting his arms unfurl and reach toward nothing. 

He let his head roll back. And as he felt the elixir filter into his hair and creep around the corners of his face. . .he realized how the music felt solid. Tangible. 

As though it and the elixir’s ever-changing color were part of a living mass. 

Bones swallowed a lump in his throat. He’d sink if he stayed like this, but he wouldn’t drown. He could always just swim back up to the surface. 

His dry, sore eyes drifted shut as the elixir washed over his skin. He just barely felt the cool air disappear. 

But his vision didn’t turn black. He could still see the colors of the elixir.

As a matter of fact, he saw a blurry shape somewhere in the tank. 

Bones immediately wanted to panic, to start thrashing his way up to the surface. He wanted to, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. All he could do was listen to the music and watch the shape as it got closer and clearer. . .

Bones’ mind didn’t turn blank when he realized that the shape was himself, that he was somehow looking down on his own body as it kept capsizing. At first, his anger and fear threatened to make his head explode (mainly to spite Phantom, since having to clean bits of brain and skull out of the tank would not be very fun). It felt like at least an hour had passed before confusion finally attempted to take center-stage. Though he saw his eyes refuse to open, he also saw himself grind his jaw, saw himself carefully wave his arms. 

Bones was still in control. He was just. . .having to watch. 

He expected his spine to take the drifting as an excuse to contort. He expected his lungs to shake with a chorus of awful snaps and pops. He expected his abdomen to start bloating like that of an actual drowning victim. 

Nothing like that happened.

The music wasn’t letting any of those things happen. 

The music didn’t give him a chance to start questioning what this meant.

The 

Music 

Was

The

Only

Thing

He

Could

Feel 

There was no pain or panic as the music actively crept into Bones’ head. It was lapping at his skull, oozing down his spine, spreading along his ribcage. 

The numbness was, miraculously enough, a good kind of numbness. 

Bones wanted to swim, to move along in time with the music’s notes. But the music told him that he needed to stay still right now, that things would be easier if he did. So, he obeyed.

The elixir must have wanted to obey the music, too. Because, right as Bones’ body got within five feet of the chasm. . .he stopped sinking. 

The thought of opening his eyes barely even occurred to him. He could still see himself. And even if he couldn’t, he was still listening to the music. As long as the music kept playing, nothing bad would happen. He was sure of that. 

The elixir began to churn, but Bones remained perfectly still. 

Thin lacerations began opening up on his skin. They started at his fingers, then proceeded to grow longer and longer. They stretched over his hands, up his arms, around his neck, over his face and chest. (This wasn’t really anything new, but for the very first time, there was no stinging sensation for Bones to wince or hiss at.)

The spreading cuts grew deeper and deeper, prompting Bones’ blood to begin seeping out and leaving misty trails in the elixir. It almost looked black against all the colors. It didn’t drift up to the surface. Instead, the blood glided around Bones like a school of tiny fish. 

Once the gashes managed to carve themselves over every square-inch of his body, now resembling a network of tree roots, Bones’ skin began to twitch. Almost like a hangnail, a corner of skin lifted away from the tip of Bones’ index finger. That particular strand became longer and wider as it continued peeling itself off in a spiral. This set off a chain reaction: more and more sections of flesh shivered as they detached. Blood was now spilling out in clouds that nearly hid the entire scene. 

But Bones could still see everything. 

Threads of skin started slithering off of his face. Even as his eyes were forced open due to their lids peeling away, his perspective didn’t change. 

The music was still keeping him company, so he didn’t start thrashing or screaming.

It took a little over five minutes for his skeleton and organs to be rendered bare. His blood continued circling around him in a lazy whirlpool, but his skin apparently had other ideas. One by one, the fleshy strands moved downward, wavering like eels as they vanished into the darkness of the chasm. 

Bones almost felt like he was asleep. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept.

Had his heart just twitched? Were his intestines shuffling? 

He couldn’t be sure, because as he kept staring, the gore slowly grew blurrier, fading in and out of eyeshot. . .

Far too quickly, the music came to a halt. The new silence only lasted for a second or two. Then, a low, buzzing alarm droned into Bones’ ears.  

A loud gasp tore its way from Bones’ throat as he sat up, kicking his legs and thrashing his arms. He blinked, watching as the tank’s lid drifted open above him with a soft, electronic hummmm.

Air collided against his skin, feeling cool considering how he was soaked in the elixir. 

Bones froze, immediately reaching up to touch his face and neck, craning his neck to look at his torso. All of his skin had returned to its rightful place. One top of that. . .he couldn’t see any bruises or scabs or leaking cuts. 

The pleasant numbness was gone. He scowled; a headache was just starting to blossom beneath the bridge of his nose. 

But it wasn’t on-par with a migraine. 

In fact, it was nearly overshadowed by how. . .clean Bones was now realizing he felt. 

He didn’t feel healthy (he was dead, after all), but the feeling of a hot shower and a deep-tissue massage combined. . .it was enveloping him.

Inside and out. 

Bones’ expression shifted so quickly he almost got whiplash. 

He stayed floating for another moment.

Then, he clambered onto the tank’s rim, heading for the basement stairs, not caring one bit how he was dripping and leaving wet footprints everywhere. 

He needed Phantom to show him how to adjust the tank’s settings. 

He needed to spend some more time in there. He needed to have another session—he needed to have at least one hour-long session per day. . .

@that-bat @sammys-magical-au @ineedallofthehugs @th3w00ds @captainrose35 @nwtbobsessedemo

[cottondaycarestims]

📞/☎️/📞|☎️/📞|☎️/📞/☎️

Freakbob is calling...

[gummi-stims]

hi! if i may make a request, could you make a board based around dolphins? with like a bright colored tropicalcore/poolcore/2000s vibe? 🐬🌺🌊 i love your blog!

@heavens-logbook

I hope you like this! This was a super fun request to work with, and sorry for the delay getting it done. c:

🐬-🐬-🐬

🐬-🐬-🐬

🐬-🐬-🐬

[t-u-i-t-c]

Giftober 2023 │ Day 23: Hands

Canalo + Water Telepathy

+ bonus

[piratesexmachine420]

Apropos of nothing: "getting tied into a sack and thrown off a boat" has gotta be in the top three most horrifying methods of execution of all time, at least among those that take less than like three minutes.

Thanks ancient Rome! And also 1700s Germany! (The regions comprising modern-day Germany, anyway.)

[beautifullymacabre]

i'm not pure

im soaked through

saturated

crawling with detritivores

hungry for my rot

this is why i see everything else as pure

innocent

spotless

gleaming

brimming with a hope of which naivety can only dream

i mustn't touch

lest i spread my disease through my blood-drenched hands

but if i am surrounded by such purity

perhaps it will begin to make me clean

perhaps i can yet be redeemed

[heirbane]

you know how when you hit Those milestones as a kid and a teen and people were like "wow you're 13, do you feel different?" or "you're officially an adult, how is it?" and you're like. ???? i am the exact same as i was 24 hours ago except now others have different expectations of who i Should be. but it's always been you. you're always you. at 13, 16, 18 or 21 or 25 you're still who you were.

being suicidal and recovering from attempts is the exact same, except it's not "i'm 16, shouldn't i be grown feeling? when do i get to where i want to be?" and it's more of "i'm 29, shouldn't i have refound who i was by now?" you don't feel like you anymore. you were you before. you should have died, and maybe you did, because what you are isn't you. now you're different, and no one looks at you differently but you.

i feel like i'm waiting for my compass to guide me to who i was looking to be at 18 and 16 and 13, for Me to look around the corner and i recognize them. but i'm no longer you. i'm not Me.

[dittos-everywhere]

△ have you ever ingested part of a ditto?

0/10

Well there was that one time someone bumped into me and the tiny bit of ditto cytoplasm I was spreading on a petri dish got ejected into my mouth.

Tastes kinda meaty, but also like eating a water balloon. Meat water? That sounds wrong.

[ppulverse]

how can some people be so heartless lol

[thestarlightexpress]

Kinktober 2024: Day 2 - Somnophilia - Azriel x Reader

TW: sexual themes including overstimulation and dubcon

word count: 1.48k

NSFW under the cut

The sharp wind and misty rain pelted Azriel’s face as his long flight back from the Continent came to a close. He spent the last week surveilling Koschei’s lake for any useful intel and had unsurprisingly come home with nothing. After 8 straight hours of flying, all he wanted to do was collapse in his fluffy bed and sleep for a whole day. 

He neared the House of Wind, feeling the drowsiness and pull to his bed grow even stronger as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Finally landing, his tense and taut muscles were able to gradually start relaxing. As he slowly wandered down the hallway towards his room, his ears perked up at the sounds floating towards him from a few doors down. Muffled moans and something that suspiciously sounded like a headboard striking the wall. Cassian and Nesta must be at it again.

He slowly opened his door and was dismayed to find an obstacle in between him and his comfy bed - you, laying on your back, starfished right in the middle of his bed. You were dead asleep despite gripping an open book in your hand. Knowing he was set to come back tonight, you had done your best to wait up for him but evidently couldn’t resist the coziness of his bed. 

A soft smile ghosted his lips as his shadows softly shut the door behind him. He pried the book from your hands, setting it on the nightstand before softly kissing your forehead and heading to the restroom. He quickly shed his sweat-soaked leathers before running a quick bath. His sore muscles sang in relief at the warm water. As he lay in the bath, the light and sweet smell of your arousal drifted through the open door. 

His shadows slinked back into the restroom, whispering to him the name of your book. It was one he and Nesta had been reading a few weeks earlier in their secret smutty book club. Knowing exactly what his sweet little mate had been reading had his blood swiftly rushing to his cock. He had intended to just quickly wash off and curl around you as best he could and go to sleep, but he suddenly found himself changing those plans. 

Azriel hurried to dry himself off and slip on his sleep clothes before wandering back into his bedroom. The forceful waves of your arousal nearly knocked him over. You were still in a deep sleep with a blissful smile on your face. The skimpy camisole you were wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination, showing off your perky nipples. Azriel’s gaze raked over your chest and down to your high-waisted shorts that barely covered your ass. He inched closer and closer to you, feeling his now hard cock straining against his sweatpants.

He crawled between your legs, soaking up the smell of your need as you continued dreaming. Azriel slowly gripped your shorts and pulled them down your legs. He was almost on the verge of drooling at the sight of your slick, pink pussy bared in front of him. He trailed up your legs, leaving warm open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Azriel placed a soft peck on the tip of your clit before licking a slow strip up from your entrance. His rough hands reached up to pull your thighs further apart, spreading your cunt for him.

Azriel softly suckled on your clit, sending a new wave of slick sliding down towards your entrance. He shifted down and dove into your pussy, licking up your syrupy arousal. A gentle moan slipped from your mouth as your hips shifted up and chased his mouth. He moved back up and his lips wrapped around your clit while he slipped two fingers inside you. He felt your body shifting above him as he pumped his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. A small hand landed on his head and laced through his damp hair. 

“Well, this is certainly a way to wake me up.”, your rough, sleep-ridden voice drifted down towards him. Azriel glanced back up at you from between your legs, finding you propped up on your elbows. His free hand grasped your wrist and moved your hand to rest on your stomach. Azriel sent some shadows to weave through your hair and rest around your neck and shoulders. “Go back to sleep, my love. Just let me make you feel good.” He gripped your thigh and dove back into your inviting cunt. Releasing a needy moan, you laid back on the bed and swiftly drifted back to sleep.

Your slick continued to drip between your legs, soaking Azriel’s face and the sheets below you. Even while asleep, his skilled mouth quickly brought you to your first orgasm of the night. Your back arched and your breaths quickened into soft pants as you came in his mouth. The intoxicating taste of your release had his hips bucking up, grinding his swollen cock into the edge of the bed, desperate for a sliver of relief. 

Azriel groaned into your heat as he felt his precum drip down his cock. His fingers inched further inside of you, pressing against the spot that always made you see stars and beg for more. He glanced up at you and grazed his teeth against your sensitive clit when he heard your breath hitch. He promptly brought you to your second and third orgasm until your legs were shaking around his head. Your hand drifted back down to his hair and softly pulled him up from your cunt. Drifting in and out of consciousness, you managed to string together a mumbled plea. “Too much, Az.”, your soft voice lowly murmured.

He rose up and trailed his hands over your body, taking off your camisole in the process. Azriel hovered over you and rested his head on your bare chest. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to get carried away,” You sleepily hummed and cradled his head in your hand. His head drifted up and he nosed into the crook of your neck. “But I think you can cum one more time for me, yeah?” You roughly bit your lip and rapidly nodded against him. You whined at the anticipation of feeling him again. The Mother had certainly given you the horniest male in existence for a mate. His scarred hands gripped your hips in the way he knew you loved as he gently flipped you onto your stomach. Azriel crawled off the bed and stood at the foot of the bed. He outright moaned as he loosened the laces of his pants before pulling them off to release his leaky cock from its confines. He couldn’t hide his smile at the sight of your head resting on top of your arms, already asleep again.

Azriel loved many things about his sleepy girl, particularly how cuddly and pliant you get. But this, this was something you had always talked about doing that Azriel hadn’t been lucky enough to experience. You both loved the idea of him taking you as you slept, letting him use you solely for his pleasure. His cock bobbed in the air as he stared at your supple ass, debating about how he wanted to take you. He crawled on top of you and sat on your thighs a few inches behind your ass. He gripped your cheeks before using one hand to guide the tip of his member through your soaked folds. Azriel angled your hips up towards him before sliding into you and sheathing his cock fully inside of your warm, welcoming heat.

You both groaned at the stretch, Azriel much louder than you. He didn’t even need to give you time to adjust as your body was relaxed enough by your previous slumber. He grasped your waist and pulled his hips back to thrust into you. He had been so pent up over the past week that it didn’t take him much to get close. Getting lost in his own pleasure, he roughly took your tight cunt. Your light moans could barely be heard over his hips slapping into your ass.

Azriel felt his abs straining as he started to approach his release. He shifted his legs further up the bed and caged your torso under his chest. His thrusts started to get harder and erratic as he felt you tighten around them.

Azriel bit down a moan as his hips stilled and he spilled into you, your walls spasming around him as you came for the fourth time. After taking a few minutes to catch his breath, he slowly clambered off the bed and slipped his pants back on before laying down next to you. He gingerly turned you onto your side and pulled you into his chest. Not even five minutes later, he found his chin resting on your shoulder and felt himself pulled into sleep by your comforting warmth.

Kinktober Taglist:

@honethatty12 @sweet-chai-amore @helo1281917 @scarsandallaz @thatacotargirl @a-courtof-azriel @lmadness @riorgail

[unspecifiedvolcano]

im almost 100% certain that ken would kill himself shortly after we last see him, the feeling is there, the imagery is there, jeremy almost jumped, and how many times have we seen ken in the water...

[magics-neptunes-things]

Lightning Love

Hi guys!

Like I said, after seeing Steph in that outfit I just COULDN'T not write something for her.

It's longer than I expected to be honest, but I hope you will like it!

TW : Some Angst maybe, Alcohol consumption, mention of breakup

It’s always strange to be at a wedding while your ex-girlfriend just ends things with you. Until early November, you were due to come here with Leila Ouahabi, your former girlfriend.

She broke up with you after an eight-month relationship but, with the reasons she gave you, you can’t really be mad at her. She accused you of not being as involved in your relationship as you should have been after so long. It was true that with her being in Manchester and you in London, you aren’t able to see each other very often.

But it was good for you, you had fun dates, you laughed a lot, and you had good moments with her.

Leila was right to say that though, because the real reason for your lack of involvement is probably very related to the fact that you are dead in love with your Australian teammates, Steph Catley.

And seeing her today at Emily and Kat’s wedding doesn’t help.

Steph is absolutely stunning, and you have trouble looking somewhere else.

You never told anyone about your crush on her, you never wanted to make things strange with anyone. Steph was in love with Dean, happier than ever and that is all you want for her. You never had a talk with her about her preference before she met Dean, but for you Steph is as straight as a ruler.

So, you totally have not a single chance with her.

You were happy for her when you learned about her engagement and genuinely sad when you learned that her and Dean broke up.

And right now, as you are looking at her laughing with Caitlin and Katie, you just can feel your heart clenched. Maybe it’s the consumption of alcohol that makes you feel sadder than you actually did. It doesn’t stop you from accepting another glass of champagne when a waiter comes for you.

“You alright?”

You turn your head towards Kristie, Sam’s girlfriend, you are sitting next to you. You promised to Sam to look for her while she takes some pictures with some of your friends, but you probably weren't good company after all.

“Yeah, sorry” you turn yourself towards the blonde. “Do you need something to drink?”

You realise that her glass is empty when you glance at it and that the waiter didn’t bring something alcohol free. With her being pregnant and the heath around today, you hope that he will get fired soon.

“I’m alright” she smiles.

“No, please drink at least water. Sam is going to kill me otherwise”

Kristie smiles when you fill her glass with cold water and it’s only two minutes before Sam comes back with Steph and Mackenzie Arnold.

“Have you been treated well?” Sam smirks towards you. “I’ve heard that she doesn’t know how to treat girls right”

You roll your eyes and let yourself go against the back of your chair. You know that Leila hasn’t said anything bad against you, your breakup was pretty chill, and you are still talking from time to time. But the woso-world is a small world and some of her friends probably made some assumptions.

“What do you mean?” Mackenzie asks while Steph frowns.

“I’m just saying what I’ve heard” Sam says, raising her hands defensively.

“I’m sure that is wrong. Y/N is the cutest of all of you”

Steph statements and the defensive hands she puts on your arm make you feel warm inside. And stupid to react like a teenage boy.

Sam smirks before inviting Kristie to go dancing, leaving you with Mackenzie and Steph alone at the table. It’s a little bit depressing to see all these couples to be honest. A moment of silence floats between you three, all of you probably lost in their thoughts.

You know that Mackenzie broke up with her girlfriend some weeks ago too, or that her girlfriend broke up with her. Either way, it’s never really great to be in that position for a wedding.

“Well, that’s surely depressing” Mackenzie finally states, looking at you three.

You can’t help but giggle at that, Steph smiling next to you. You know that there are more single people there, by the way where the hell is Alanna?

“You don’t see someone who might be interesting for you? Weddings leading to another wedding are great love stories” you say, looking at Mackenzie.

“No, and I’m not sure that I want to” she sights softly. “On another hand, Steph probably could try something with the way our waiter looks at her every time he is near”

You hold a grimace of disgust thinking about that waiter and glance towards Steph, to see that she has the same expression you just retained.

“No thanks” she mumbles.

“She deserves someone better than him anyway” you add, before taking another sip of your drink.

You feel Steph’s gaze on you, but you distract yourself by looking at Caitlin and Katie dancing a little further than the other people in the crowd.

“I’m going to see if I can find Lany” Mackenzie says before standing up.

You watch her leave before turning your head towards Steph. She was already looking at you and you are glad that the night has fallen otherwise she would have seen the red colouring your cheeks.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” she asks softly.

“Sure” you accept with a smile.

You stand up and have some trouble finding your balance, between your heels and the champagne you drank in probably too much quantity. You feel stupid at first, before feeling Steph grabs your arm to give you more balance.

“Are you okay?” she laughs.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t stand for a long time and the Champagne kept coming back in my glass” you smirk.

She laughs again and you feel the habitual feeling in your stomach. At first you were sad to learn that Steph signed to Arsenal and not Tottenham where you are playing with Charlie. But then you realised too that it’s probably better like this. You wouldn’t have been able to hide the reality of your feelings in another way.

It’s already too hard to do it when you are at Australian camp. Thank God Kyra is always here to distract her, you are pretty sure that other than that you would have been caught since a long time.

You silently walk next to her, your arms always linked together. You like it that way, feeling her against you without you being the one making the first move.

Steph and you are pretty close, you are the same age and started to play at the same time. You played together in Melbourne until she left for the USA, and you went to Tottenham. With her being in London from 2020 it’s easier for you to see each other, usually for walking Calvin or drinking coffee.

“Seriously, how are you dealing with your breakup?” Steph suddenly asks.

Surprised, you turn your head in her direction before shrugging. You didn’t really talk about it with her to be honest. Leila broke up with you early November, then you had all of those games and after that Christmas break was there. It is only thanks to the wedding that you are able to see her before January.

“I’m okay, for real. It wasn’t that serious from my side, and I think she understands it. I liked her but I wasn’t in love, you know” you shrug.

“You were in a relationship without being in love?”

You can hear Steph’s surprise and almost discontent in her tone. You know how that girl is romantic, and you cringe a little after saying what you said.

“I was hoping to really fall in love with her” you precise. “I mean she’s funny, beautiful and everything… But I don’t know. Something was missing”

“I think I can understand” Steph says slowly.

“It was comfortable, but we weren’t meant to be”

She nods and you keep walking in silence a little more. You are in the vineyards now, the noise of the party coming from far behind you. It’s quiet and peaceful here. You like it.

“What about you?” you ask quietly.

“I’m okay, I think. I wasn’t expecting this to be honest, but I can’t fight against it”

“Are you still in love with him?”

You realise when Steph looks at you how inappropriate your question is. You are not her mother, her sister and even her best friend. You are just a friend who has nothing to say in her relationships.

“I’m sorry, I –“

“I don’t think I’m in love with him anymore” Steph cuts you.

By then you stopped walking, and you are facing each other. With the sun going down Steph gets ride of her sunglasses but she’s still stunning. You could look at her pretty face all day long anyway.

You weren’t expecting an answer, so you shut your mouth and let her talk.

“I don’t think I was for a long time now… I can’t say since when, though. It doesn’t mean I don’t have any affection for him, you know? I just fall out of love with him”

She seems sad though and you take all the strength you have in you not to crush her against you. You take her hand back in yours instead, giving her what you hope is a comforting squeeze.

“You will find the right person for you” you smile at her, continuing when she makes a pouty face. “Of course you will. I mean, every single person would be lucky to have you in their life.”

“We’ll see”

You hum, looking at the landscape around you. Em and Kat made a good choice by coming here. It’s really beautiful.

“You’ll find someone too, you know?”

You pout and shrug, not really believing this. In almost ten years you never found someone able to make you forget Steph, it’s not going to change now. You just have to live with the fact that you fall in love with someone straight and will never be able to be happy with her.

You can’t say that to Steph like this, though.

“Want to go back?” you ask.

But Steph shakes her head no and when you look around you spot a bench between two lines of vineyard. You make Steph wait before sitting down, using your jacket to protect her dress.

“Can I ask you a question?” Steph asks a little after.

“Sure” you mumble, looking now at the stars.

But after that there is only silence and you turn your face to Steph, to see that she seems to be thinking about how to tell you what’s in her mind. It attracts your curiosity, and you tilt your head on the side, silently questioning her.

“Don’t take that the wrong way, but… I’ve never seen you really into your girlfriends, you know? Sure, you liked them and treated them well despite what Sam said before, but I never saw you fond of them. Have you really been in love once?”

You sigh softly, now turning your eyes back on the stars. She seems scared about your reaction at her question, but you are not mad. You are more jaded by the situation than something else.

“Once” you finally answer.

“You were in love once?” Steph asks for clarity.

You nod, still without looking at her. You are scared that she would be able to understand if you look her in the eyes.

“With whom?”

“I never told her”

“What? Why?”

Steph seems genuinely surprised and almost concerned by this statement. She sits to be able to lean and be able to look at you correctly, not only the side of your face. It’s hard to ignore her like this and you bite your lip unconsciously when she’s still looking at you.

“It’s complicated, Steph”

“Why?”

“Because it is”

“Is she in a relationship? Is it someone who’s here?”

“Can we please talk about something else?” you whisper.

Realising that she was maybe put too much pressure on your, Steph sits back and seems a little bit embarrassed by her behaviour.

“Of course. I’m sorry”

You give her a small smile. It maybe would be great to able to talk about it to someone, but you don’t know who. All of your close friends are close to Steph, and you don’t want to put them in a complicated situation. You don’t like lies and secrets, even if you keep this one for years now.

“Do you want to go back?”

“Yes, please.”

You totally can do with more alcohol.

Even if you offered her your hand to help her walk in the dark, the way back is filled with silence and just a glance at Steph makes you understand that she’s lost in her thoughts.

You wonder what it is, hoping that she’s not thinking about Dean. That boy has fallen far down in your esteem since her breakup with Steph. You refer to him as “Calvin’s dad”. It amuses Steph though, so it’s probably okay that way.

“Ow, look who took the most beautiful girl away to kiss her in the vineyard?”

Alanna’s voice makes Steph and you jump. You don’t really know which one of Steph or you let the other hand go first, but you blush stupidly.

“Shut up” Steph answers.

You are surprised to see that she seems flustered too, but Steph is taken away from you by Mackenzie for something related to a new cocktail to try. You are a little sad to watch her go away but try to concentrate your attention on something else.

Like the glass Hayley gives you.

********

You watch Steph from afar for the rest of the night, staying with Hayley during this time. You had a lot of fun to be honest, even if you feel a pang of jealousy in your chest every time you see her laughing with Mackenzie.

You haven’t realised that they were so close, to be honest.

At some point of the night, you decide that you are too drunk to stay any longer and take advantage of Clare leaving to do the same thing. After saying goodbye to the married couple, you take your taxi and leave to go back to your hotel room.

You are almost relieved to find the silence here and even if it’s late (or early in the morning) you take the time to take a hot shower. It helps you sober up a little bit. You are still glad to find the softness and the warmth of your bed.

You were almost asleep when someone gently knocks on your door, making you groan in your pillow. But you still get up, opening your door just a little bit to be able to see who it is.

“Steph?” you frown, opening it a little more.

“I didn’t see you leaving” she says, playing with her bag.

“You were busy dancing with Macca” you shrug with a soft smile.

You weren’t jealous at all, of course.

(That’s a lie)

“Do you want to come inside?”

You open the door completely now and after a second of hesitation, Steph comes inside.

“I just wanted to say goodnight” Steph says, sitting on your bed. “And I wanted to be sure that you know you can talk to me about anything, at any time. You know that, right?”

“I know” you smile at her. “Thanks, though”

You are leaning against the desk in front of your bed, looking at her. You are glad that you put an old jersey and a shorty to sleep. Steph is still in her dress, and you love that you are able to look at her longer with this dress.

“And about that girl you are in love with…”

“Mh?”

“It’s not Hayley, is it?”

“No” you laugh. “The problem isn’t for her to be in a relationship. Hayley is just a friend”

You see her looking at you for several seconds, just like if she wants to be sure that you are saying the truth. But you are and she finally smiles again.

“Good. Do I know her?”

You hesitate to answer this time, biting your bottom lip thoughtfully. You know that if you say stop about this conversation at any time, Steph will accept it and talk about something else.

“You do” you finally answer.

“Is she a footballer?”

“She is” you smile.

Steph seems to have fun asking you those questions and you don’t want to suppress her smile. She said earlier that she never saw you fond of someone, it’s only because you aren’t allowed to show it. But you are so whipped.

“And it’s not Hayley” she thinks aloud while you shake your head. “Macca?”

“No” you laugh softly.

“Right, you told me that her relationship state isn’t the problem”

She still seems lost in her thoughts and you smile softly at her before talking again. You really hope that she will forget this conversation after a good night of sleep and having sober up.

“I do. But now you probably should go to bed. You look tired”

“You really know how to talk to women”

Steph rolls her eyes while you help her to get up, making you laugh. You guide her to the door that you open for her, smiling softly.

“You can look tired but still be beautiful, you know?” you point anyway.

She doesn’t answer but smiles before kissing your cheek. You froze, not expecting this gesture now. Your skin tickles you where she kissed you and you have to take all your concentration to stay focused in the moment.

“Sleep well” you say at the same time.

You smile and she giggles before going to her room. You close the door of yours, before letting yourself go against it and taking a big breath. Why is your life so complicated? Why aren’t you able to forget her and have a happy relationship with someone? Leila was great, for example.

Thinking about your ex, you look for your phone several minutes before spotting it in the bottom of your bag. You have several notifications there, including two messages from Steph asking you where you are. They came one hour before and you imagine that it was before she came back to the hotel too.

When you open Leila’s conversation, you see that she was online twenty minutes ago. Probably because it’s the middle of the afternoon in Spain. She went back to her country too to spend Christmas with her family.

You go in your bed again, looking at Leila’s goofy profile picture. After some hesitation, you start to write something like “Hello. I hope you are okay and have a great holiday for now. Can we just please talk about something if you have time?”

After all, Leila understood that you were totally into your relationship with her for a reason. She deserves to know why and maybe talking about it to someone will help you to pass to something else? Leila told you that she was still for you if you needed anything. And right now you really need to talk to someone.

Just after you send it, someone knocks at your door… Again. But you choose not to go answer this time, Steph is safely in her room, and can’t a girl have her beauty sleep?

But the person insists and at the third knock, you finally get up. If it’s Lany asking for a makeup remover, you are going to crush her.

But it’s not her. It’s Steph, again.

She has meanwhile removed her makeup, and her hair is down now. But it’s not what is the first thing you spot. She seems strange.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, frowning.

She doesn’t wait for you to propose to her to enter your room this time, passing in front of you to go inside. But you let her. After all she’s Steph, she can do everything she can.

“The girl you love. She’s a footballer and she’s single, because her relationship status isn’t the problem”

You watch her pacing around in your room, only nodding when she looks up to see your answer. What the hell is happening.

“Your problem is that she’s straight”

It’s not a question, but a statement. She doesn’t say it accusatively either, she makes you think about someone who is exposing his theory about something. You bite your lip when you nod again.

“And it’s not Charlie, is it?”

“No” you whisper.

Charlie is great and beautiful, but a little bit too young maybe. And definitively not Steph, once again. You look at Steph when she takes a big breathing, still not understanding what she’s up to.

“I think I know who it is, then”

“No, you don’t” you giggle softly.

She will never know and that is comforting and depressing at the same time. She’s still wearing this damn dress, and you want to rip your eyes apart for not being able to see her for any longer. She’s so beautiful it hurts.

“I do”

You heard that sentence several hours ago, pronounced by Emily and Kat and you found it cute at this time. But right now, coming from Steph’s mouth it feels strange. Maybe because she’s really close to you now.

“I have one more guess, but you have to tell me if I’m wrong”

“I will”

She’s so close that you can see every detail of her face and tell with certitude that she brushed her teeth too.

You still don’t understand what is happening, but by now she has closed the last centimetres existing between you and before you are able to freak out, she presses her lips against yours.

An uppercut probably might have made you less groggy than that. It was just a small press against your lips, but it was everything and you take a step towards Steph when she takes a step back.

“Maybe your problem isn’t really a problem” the left back whispers at you.

You lose two seconds to look at her deep in her eyes, before kissing her too. You don’t know if you are dreaming or hallucinating because of the alcohol, but it feels real and fucking amazing. Steph kisses you back and you take her against you by her waist.

********

The morning after you need two seconds to remember why you feel so happy and content. But you don’t open your eyes directly, scared to have only dreamed it. You are lying on your side, under the cover still with your pajamas. You didn’t sleep with Steph last night, it was “just” kisses and sweet nothing whispered, before you both fell asleep in your bed.

When you finally slowly open your eyes, you can see that Steph is still here and that she’s already up. The light in the room tells you that it’s probably pretty late, even with the blinds closed.

“Hello” you mumble shyly.

“Hi”

“Did you sleep well?”

Steph only nods and you understand immediately that something is wrong. You feel your stomach squirm uncomfortably. Of course, she would have regrets about it. She was probably at least tipsy last night; you shouldn’t have accepted any kisses from her in this state.

“We still can do it as if nothing happened” you whisper.

She frowns again and you want to erase those lines between her eyebrows with your thumb. At some point last night, she changed her dress for one of your shirts and it’s an unbelievable feeling to see her in one of your clothes.

“Is that what you want?”

“No” you admit before sighing. “But I want you to be comfortable”

“It’s not about yesterday” Steph says before rolling on her back and looking at the ceiling. “I mean, it does, but not exactly”

“Okay?”

You see her take a deep breath, just like yesterday before she kissed you. Waiting for her to talk, you put your head in your hand to have a better look at her. You are nervous, not knowing what to expect at this point.

“You said you love me” she begins and you nod. “So, I assume that what happened last night means something to you”

“It means everything” you whisper.

The smile that is on her face after hearing you saying that is breathtaking. But she is still looking at the ceiling, concentrating on what she wants to tell you.

“I know we have a lot to talk about, but before everything I need to know if you are still involved in any way with Leila Ouahabi?”

You frown at that. You talked about it yesterday at the wedding, so you don’t understand why it is coming back now. But if she still needs reassurances, you will say at every minute if it allows you to have something with her.

“No, I told you yesterday. We are just talking from time to time but that’s all”

You would rather for Steph to look at you, but she’s still looking at the ceiling of your room, her frown deepening.

“In that case, why has she tried to call you several times and sent you messages like Sorry I was busy, What do you want to talk about or Please answer I’m worried?”

Looks like Leila took your message from yesterday in a very serious way.

“Oh… It’s not what you think” you start, but then Steph is turning her head very slowly towards you.

“Those are the exact words Dean told me when I saw the conversation he was having with that girl from his work, the very same he’s going on dates with as we speak”

You feel your face getting soft at her confession. She doesn’t talk a lot about Dean, not wanting for her friends to diabolise him, you think. But it looks like he deserves it finally. You move in the bed to be closer to her, wanting to offer her as much comfort as possible.

“Yesterday after you left my room for the first time, I sent a message to Leila asking her if she was free to talk about something” you explain while sitting up on the bed. “But then before she’s able to answer you came back and… well I hope you remember what happened”

She looks at you for several seconds, scanning your eyes and your face with attention. She’s probably looking for any possibility of lies, but you won’t take it against her.

“I do” she whispers and your mind flies back to yesterday.

“I can show you the conversation if you want to, I have nothing to hide. And I should probably write to Leila to excuse myself” you add, frowning softly.

“No, I – I trust you” she sighs “What did you want to talk about?”

“You” you smile this time.

“Me?”

She seems genuinely surprised by your answer and your smile grows wider. You nod at her and shyly put a strand of hair away from her face.

“Yeah. I needed someone to talk about it. And Leila already understood that I wasn’t really in our relationship for a reason. She was the easier one to talk to, especially because other than Lany, she doesn’t know a lot of Australian people”

“You wanted to talk about your feelings for a girl to one of your exes?”

She seems rather amused now and you realise that I might be a little weird finally. It wasn’t maybe your best idea, but Leila is the only one who came to your mind at that time.

“My feelings about a girl I’ve been in love with forever” you precise with a soft smile. “And that I really want to kiss again, because she’s the most beautiful sigh I’ve ever seen in the morning”

Steph rolls her eyes and smiles, before opening her arms for you. You don’t waste any time before cuddling against her, cupping her cheek before kissing her softly. And just like yesterday, you wouldn’t be able to describe what you feel at every kiss. But you just can’t get enough.

You stop at one point though, when your stomach groans with discontent. It makes Steph laugh and you hide your embarrassment in her neck. Your wild appetite is a big thing, known by a lot of people around you.

“How are you seeing things, back in London?” you ask while you are eating a toast from the meal tray you request at the room service.

“I’m still looking for a flat, I’m living with Beth now and even if Calvin and Myle are great friends I can’t wait to have my own flat”

You nod while looking straight in front of you, munching your toast slowly. You love Steph’s dog, but like everyone around. He’s the best honestly. But that wasn’t really what you were referring to. Steph kept Calvin with her after her breakup, giving it to Dean when she’s away like those days in Australia.

“I’m looking for something in St-Albans, but I could look a little more eastbound maybe?”

You side-eyes her, only to see her looking at you with a knowing smile and you can’t keep yours at bay. Maybe she knows you better than you thought, or maybe she can read you better than you thought.

“That’s a great idea. Like this I could take you easier on a date”

“Oh, do you now?”

She pinches your ribs, making you squeak and almost throw the trail away. After a not very fair tickles fight, you finish on your back with Steph lying on you. You totally could get used to that. It’s Steph's turn to stroke your hair now and you take a look at her before asking what you have in mind.

“Will you say yes? To go on a date with me?”

“Of course. I didn't kiss you last night for nothing. But would you mind taking things slow? I mean – sorry for bringing him now – but I’m not separated for a long time, and I’ve never been with a girl before”

“We will go as slow as you want” you promise her before kissing her.

You feel her smile against your lips as if the feeling of your kiss is as good as it is for you. You like the idea, to be honest.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

Steph whispers and you just hum in answer, distracted by her caresses on your arms.

“I’ve always had a crush on you, but before last night I was saying to myself that it wasn’t something serious. But when I realised yesterday that you might be into me… I don’t know it’s like everything made sense”

“Do you want to know a secret too?” you smirk when she nods “I’ve been in love with you for years. That is the reason why you never saw me fond of someone. It was because I’m fond of you.”

“I love this explanation”

She smiles at you, and you find it hard to breathe easily when she smiles and looks at you like that. You don’t mind hiding your relationship for some time if this is what she needs or waiting for her to be ready to take some steps together. As long as it’s you and her, that’s all that matters.

Next Chapter

[mossangelll]

Yandere!Jinx x Reader

Bath Time 🛁🫧

a/n: decided to indulge my weird thoughts…sorry for any grammar/tense mistakes i wanted to write this down so bad i barely proofread 😭

pic from @arcanescreencaps

tw: afab reader, dubcon, improper drug use, smut but nothing too detailed - mdni

Why did you have to be so stupid and sprain your arm? It wasn’t even that bad, just some mild swelling and a touch of discomfort - in the outside world, where you still had independence and freedom, you would’ve handled it perfectly fine.

But you’re with Jinx now, holed away in her den where she treats you like you’re made of glass. In another life her doting care would’ve been such a welcome comfort but here it’s like being stuck under the hot summer sun, stifling and oppressive. She had decided you were too injured to care for yourself so she took over instead. It was finally time for you to have a shower and no matter how loudly you protested she decided that she needed to bathe you to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself even more.

What a load of bullshit.

So, after your ‘tantrum’, she had wrestled you into the bathroom. The tub was almost full to the brim with bubbles and even a…graffitied rubber duck floated along the still surface.

You grip onto your towel and look back at Jinx, who stares you down with a look that says ‘drop it’. You don’t dare challenge her silent demand, you upset her enough by hurting yourself - you’d rather not be punished again.

Your shaking hands let go of the fluffy towel clenched in your iron grip knowing you can’t delay the inevitable any longer. Her eyes seem to darken the second your towel is on the floor, eyes roving your naked body as she bites her lip. Tears well in your eyes at being subjected to something so, so humiliating.

You jump into the tub without a second’s hesitation; all you want to do is sink under the water and drown but you know Jinx would never let that happen. You settle for using the bubbles as a sort of cover to protect yourself from her wandering gaze. She kneels down at the side of the tub getting all the toiletries she would use ready.

She’s oddly quiet as she takes a sponge and douses it with apple scented body wash, her body wash. Her hands are careful as they scrub at your your back, apologising whenever one of her long nails happens to catch on your skin.

It’s not so bad, you think. The water is warm and Jinx had started humming one of your favourite songs. You don’t like the fact that nothing of yours really belongs to you anymore, but you downright despise the way you actually like the way her scratchy voice follows the music.

“Ya know, my sister used to do this for me back when I was little…” Her voice seems so small and pensive as her train of thought wanders off into the heaviness of the humid air as she continues to scrub.

You wait for her to continue but she’s clammed up, focusing instead on getting you clean. The only times you heard about this mysterious sister was when you set her off and she would rampage, letting loose little details her and there in her episodes.

Your heart aches for her but you don’t even know why. She kidnapped and hurt you but still she finds a way to infiltrate every aspect of your being.

Her hands travel to your neck and arms, a trail of suds following her circular motions. Your eyes are closed as you relish in her ministrations before they’re suddenly jolting open, realising where Jinx's hand has stopped.

“Toots, you, uh, don’t mind if I make sure you’re all clean?” Her low voice calls out, eyes glued to where the tops of your thighs would be under the suds and bubbles.

Her fingers tremble under the water, sponge drifting closer to the apex of your legs. You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut out of instinct when you realise how ruddy the apples of her cheeks are, how heavy the pants that rumble out from deep down her chest are. You try to angle your body away from her leering gaze but there’s no point - the tub is too tight and you don’t want to risk her anger at getting everything soaked.

You don’t even bother answering her indulgent question as you know she’s not truly asking you feel about her endeavour.

Your chest is tight with fear and anticipation like ripping off a sticky bandaid that you know is going to sting.

The sponge delves between your legs.

You gasp at the sensation of the porous sponge the feeling so shocking, your thighs tremble in response.

At first she really is just cleaning you and you suppose she would’ve had to do it at some point. You relax thinking you can let your guard down - she’ll move onto your legs and soon you’ll be done. Soon you can forget all about this experience.

But she doesn’t stop. The sponge is now petting you, her delicate manner swapped for harder pressure. Your legs squirm and you try not to keen at the sensation. What is she doing?!

The damp heat in the enclosed room must be getting to your head. You feel a delirious, warmth spreads from the base of your feet and up, up, up; you have to fight just to remind yourself that she is your captor. She is insane and she will stop at nothing to keep you with her, even if it means killing you and taking herself with you.

And still, despite the mantra you repeat, your head feels impossibly heavy and you have to lean your head back just to ease the pressure. She rubs at a particularly sensitive spot and you can’t help but let a small moan slip out from your lips.

Jinx’s perceptive link eyes dart up to look at your contorted face, travelling down your neck and stopping just where the bubbles meet your breasts.

God, you don’t want her to think you’re enjoying what’s happening to you.

But it’s clear she does as the blush on her face travels down to her chest and it’s like she’s a flashing red flag screaming danger but you can’t find it in you to pull away. She lips her chapped lick and grinds the sponge even harder against your clit as your hips cant towards her searing touch.

Jinx has never initiated anything sexual before and now here you are mewling for her as if anything about this situation is normal. You hate yourself so much for giving into her but your brain is so scattered and you’re too tired to revolt against her.

Electricity is sparking down your spine like a live wire in water and you feel yourself reaching your peak so close and just right and-

Jinx pulls her hand out of the water like she’s been burnt. Her eyes blown wide and she seems to be shaking - why has she stopped? She shakes her head as if to clear the stray thoughts that vacate her mind.

How could she do this to? Humiliate you by treating you like a child and then touching you so intimately knowing she wasn’t even going to stick around? Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and you just want to drag her back so she can touch you more.

Her body is stiff as she stands up to dry her hands like nothing even happened between you two.

“I need to uh…finish a job for Silco. You know me, shirking all my work! He’ll kill me if I don’t leave right now at this very second. Yeah.”

Her voice wobbles as she rambles on and you can tell by the way her eyes shift as she avoids your gaze that it’s a lie. You know she knows that you’re aware of this fact. You scoff with a roll of your eyes and splash your foot in the water, booting the rubber duck out of the tub and it plops out with a distorted quack. You feel used, even more so when you realise the fire in your stomach seems to be burning stronger for Jinx.

She scurries over to the exit, hand reaching for the door handle, eager to make her escape before she pauses, turning to look at you one last time.

“You can finish bathing yourself, right sweet cheeks?” Her face is still dusted with pink and her eyes are glazed with wonderment as she stares down. You slowly nod your head yes, anything to get her to leave you alone.

Jinx takes her leave and shuts you in to be alone with your thoughts. She waits for a second to hear for the splash of the water before sliding down the door, long blue pigtails pooled at her feet. Her eyes are closed in bliss and she brings the hand that was washing you to her mouth, taking a tentative lick - as if she’s committing the taste of you to her memory.

A small grin erupts on her face - today was a victory.

She needs to let Singed know that this new shimmer variant was a success, a great one, and she needs more.

masterlist

[ohdeerfully]

Can I please request Alastor and reader having a sleepover because of flooding in the hotel which made most rooms in the hotel out of service including Alastor's and Alastor chooses to stay at reader room because ✨romance✨ Oh and can I be ☀️ anon ( I'm the person who made first request.)

I love your writing so much!!!

hii again!!! thank you so much for the request ☀️! i love when anons give themselves names its actually so fun (,:

A Dry Bed

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

It’s nothing new when a violent demon shows up at the doorsteps to the Hazbin Hotel–Charlie’s idea wasn’t a popular one, except to a very niche market of demons. Many came just to cause havoc and make life harder for the already strained employees of the hotel.

This was new, though, you mused to yourself briefly as a fish-headed demon ripped open the door, the hinges squealing in protest. Bubbles of water floated around his body, strings of a magic aura keeping them attached to his form; there was a large one encasing his head like a helmet, making his already fish-eyed features more… well… fish-eyed and distorted.

Most demons weren’t manifested in hell bearing any sort of noticeable power other than sometimes having a decent “full” demon form. So, seeing this fish rearing a set of magical balls of water for attack, for no real reason in particular and with a glint of mania in his eyes, quickly put everybody to their feet and in action. 

Alastor was out doing god-knows-what, otherwise this would’ve been over in an instant. The other demons in the hotel were incredibly strong in their own right, but it was undeniable that the power imbalance was… huge. And the immediate chaos that ensued likely would’ve been prevented.

The fish barely hesitated after nearly breaking the front doors, immediately detaching his balls of water and hurling them in every direction. Bottles of booze were shattering, hanging pictures were tumbling, and wooden legs of furniture snapped. 

Of course, it was over nearly as soon as it started. With a movement so fast you could hardly watch, Vaggie had the fish pinned down, her foot pressed against his neck and spear pointed at one of his bulging eyes. Her eyes were narrowed so hard, her lips so twisted in a scowl, you could practically see the fire of her anger.

“Vaggie, hey, hey, hey,” Charlie quickly rattled out, pressing her hands against her girlfriend’s arm and gently ushering away the spear. Vaggie refused to release the demon, who was gurgling some nonsense in his bubble of a helmet. Charlie nudged at her leg that was pinning the demon down. “C’mon. No killing. You know the rules.”

“Charlie, this guy literally came in with intent to kill! Stop treating him like he wants to be in the hotel.” “I know! But… just…” Charlie thought for a moment.

The fish headed demon started thrashing around, but Vaggie’s strong leg kept him down. He was growing desperate, you could tell, and a magic aura seemed to flicker around him as he fought for his freedom.

Charlie opened her mouth again, likely to coerce Vaggie to let the guy go, but was interrupted by a loud, squealing groan from every direction. You frowned and leaned your ear against the wall, where it seemed the loudest. The sound of screaming pipes and popping bolts made you clench your jaw and whip your arms over your head, right in time for the walls to start bursting with dangerously high pressure water.

Vaggie turned a glare to Charlie and spread her arms in a “you see?” motion. She briefly raised her leg, only to slam it back down on the fish’s head. His protective bubble popped, and he was knocked out cold. 

Easily enough, the pressure immediately began to release after the culprit had been knocked out, but the pipes wouldn’t magically fix themselves. Charlie was running back and forth, trying desperately to survey the damage to her hotel. Footsteps came thudding down the stairs and a spindly pink demon came flying down.

“Hey, what the fuck is- fuck!” Angel Dust’s curse-filled rant was interrupted as he tripped head first into the steadily increasing pool of water, not expecting his foot to get dragged behind him by said water. With a moment of confused thrashing he stood back up and shook water from his now drenched hair.

“Guys, a little help?” Charlie snapped, unintentionally raising her voice at the three of you. “I don’t know what to do, but just-! Something!”

Niffty was quick to arrive after Angel, announcing herself with a shrill cry at the state of things. She immediately went to work, practically flying this way and that with a little hammer and nails. You wondered if she could just materialize that at will.

After finally ebbing the flow at the lobby, you looked at the stairs to the next floor. A steady stream of water made a shock of cold run down your neck.

“Guys…” You pointed at the base of the stairs and drew a line with your finger, following the trail of water.

Charlie choked out a short cry, and Niffty didn’t hesitate before barreling between your legs and up the steps.

“Oh! My,” A shocked voice called from the entrance. A prickling of static covered your skin, and tension immediately left your shoulders. With him here, this would go a lot faster. You turned your head to look at the Radio Demon, who was now delicately stepping through the layer of water that was now creeping out the open lobby doors.

“This seems like a dream of a little orphan from the Dirty Thirties, I do think,” Alastor joked, mouth ajar and eyes shut in a sinister laugh at his humor. His staticy ambience changed to a personal laugh track following his statement. His cane was held up carefully on his elbow as he surveyed the scene.

“No, this won’t do! Not at all, what a dreadful sight for new patrons,” As his hand rose and a crackling of loud static filled the room, you heard the noise of metal bending and snapping as he magically forced them back into place. Even with all the pipes fixed, the water remained. You guessed it was up to the rest of you to deal with that part.

“Thank you soooo much, Al,” Charlie had her hands clasped and shaking in front of her as she continued to spew thanks at him for the help. She stopped and looked around. There was still a huge mess. And there was still a lot of water.

The lot of you had spent the next few hours desperately trying to scoop, dump, scoop again, dump again, all the water out, but it seemed neverending. Husk had showed up at some point, went on a furious rant about his collection of now-smashed bottles, and had been cradling the remaining one ever since.

Charlie had given everybody a verbal pat on the back, and called it a night. “We can get back to it in the morning.” She said this, but you had a feeling she would remain up trying her best to fix the mess. Alastor had excused himself some time ago, saying something about his broadcasts and his papers. Since then, your thoughts have been filled with aggravation from his lack of aid. Yes, he had fixed the pipes, but the water. 

You gave a light smile to Charlie, half in thanks and half in apology, before heading up to your room. Your jaw was clenched with anticipation for what your room might look like. You could already visualize the damp curtains, the dripping bed, the mildewy air… And your clothes were surely ruined. You’d have to buy something to wear while you washed everything you owned. You sighed at the thought.

You took a breath before pushing the door open. And, when you looked inside, it was… completely dry.

“What the hell.” You deadpanned, eyes scanning the entire room. Surely there was at least a puddle of water somewhere. The water had affected every level, and although you did live on one of the higher floors you still couldn’t understand how your room managed to escape the flood.

You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, making quick work of your drenched clothes and changing into something dry. You fell face first into your pillows. Your eyes were so, so heavy.

A few seconds passed before a knock interrupted the sleep that had been creeping over your body. You heard the faint warbling of radio frequency, and felt both nervousness and anger at the thought of seeing Alastor.

You rolled off the bed and stomped your way over to the floor, flinging it open and glaring up at him. He simply smiled back down at you, his head tilted questioningly as if he had no clue why you were in such a mood.

His eyes broke from yours and he peered into your room. With a pleased glint in his eye, he brushed past you. You wanted to say something about his intrusion, but you knew it would be useless. So you just followed him in.

“Lucky you!” He said. “I took it upon myself to look into all the rooms, and yours is the only one that is still in such a shape.” You watched as he examined the contents of your room, grabbing up a decoration here and there to look it over before setting it back down.

He sighed, eyes closing as his wide smile closed into a meager grin. “Unsurprisingly that little bayou of mine flooded much worse than everywhere else. As much as it reminds me of home, even I’m not one to sleep in the marsh.” He laughed a little.

Does this guy even sleep, you wondered. You had seen his room once before, and envisioned that marsh in the corner of his room completely overrunning the rest. 

“Uh,” You toed the carpet and pursed your lips. You were still a little upset with him, but the idea of him going through the painstaking process of looking through every room in the hotel made it more reasonable for him to disappear earlier. “I mean, you could… stay with me. Tonight. Just tonight. Everything should be fine tomorrow, but I don’t want you without a bed. You know.” You rambled.

You and Alastor had gotten close over the past year, a little closer than he was with anybody else, but you avoided thinking too hard about your relationship. You worried that overthinking would cause you to accidentally overstep a boundary and you would lose the progress you’ve built getting to know him. You were worried about doing just that even as the offer tumbled from your mouth.

You watched as his teeth began to peek through his lips as his smile widened. There was something in his expression that you couldn’t quite place. Pride, maybe? Accomplishment? You weren’t sure. You didn’t have much time to consider it before his smile composed and he remained unreadable.

“How bold of you,” His voice cooed, the static that surrounded him buzzing louder as his face got closer to you. You swallowed back a lump that had formed at the proximity. “Inviting a man into your room. It’s rather unbecoming of a lady like yourself.”

“I-” Your face grew hot.

“I’m joking!” He interrupted you, leaning himself away and back in a laugh. He waved his hand at you while you frowned. You hated the way he lived off of teasing and embarrassing.

“Okay, nevermind then!” You folded your arms and stuck your nose to the side and in the air. His laughter paused and he looked back down at you. Heat still burned on your cheeks and ears.

He examined you for an uncomfortably long period of time. You had your eyes squeezed shut and you upheld your attitude in the silence for as long as you could before the prickling of radio static on your skin became too uncomfortable. You peeked open one eye to look, and immediately got nervous.

He was just standing there. Just staring with his sinister red eyes. It didn’t help that he was quite taller than you. Looming and staring. Probably the worst combination, especially with that buzzing of his.

You felt like an open book, way too vulnerable under his gaze. You lowered your head to look at nothing in particular by your feet.

“So… yes or no…” You said, taking back your earlier statement. “You can have the bed, of course. I’ll just… find a blanket for the floor or something.” If there’s anything dry, you added to yourself.

His expression broke from concentration, lifting immediately into a gleeful, toothy grin. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and guided you to the bed.

“Won’t be necessary!” He cheered. He pulled at the covers and pushed you down gently. Or, well, gently by Alastor’s standards. You still bounced upon impact. You sat there, a bit dazed with confusion as you watched him cross to the other side of the room and tuck himself under the same sheets. 

“Alastor- Hey, really, I don’t mind-” He put a finger up to your lips, dramatically shutting you up. You decided to listen.

“What’s a sleepover between two close friends!” He said gleefully. You couldn’t help but let the term ‘friends’ echo in your mind as you fiddled with your thumbs.

Silence filled the room again, but after a while it became more comfortable than awkward. The sound of radio frequencies had died down a little. You refused to look at him. The clock ticked faintly in the corner.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt clawed fingers grab into your shoulder and pull you closer to the Radio Demon. You aided the movement by using your hands to scoot towards him.

Again, you had become close with him over the year, but you never took too long to consider just what you were. You always waited for him to make any move, because otherwise he might completely reject you. So, when he made the decision to bring you closer, you happily obliged, albeit a little anxiously.

You gingerly put your head against his chest, listening to the thrum of his heart. Or what might be a heart. Who knows. You held in a laugh when you realized that even that had some sort of radio-like sound to it. Nonetheless, it did help lull you out of any nerves you had being so close and intimate to Alastor.

You lifted yourself off of him with an elbow and looked at him. He was already looking at you, unsurprisingly, so your eyes met his. They were glowing a little, you noticed.

His face still had a grin, but it was light. And comfortable. His eyebrows were relaxed as he just watched you. 

Your heart was beating uncomfortably fast, and you were embarrassed to think that he might be able to feel it with how close your chest was to his.

If he did, he made no indication of it. He just kept looking at you with the strangest expression you’ve ever seen on him. It was gentle. His words from earlier played in your mind again; when he called you and him ‘friends.’

Did ‘friends’ look at each other like this?

Did ‘friends’ inch closer to each other as they stared into the others’ eyes, bodies flush against one another and legs beginning to tangle?

Your jaw clenched and unclenched as you neared him, and you frantically examined him for even the smallest hint of wanting you to stop. You swore he was leaning in too, though.

You felt his breath brush against your nose. Your heart was practically clawing itself out of your ribs and the elbow you had propped yourself up on grew wobbly with nerves. When Alastor’s eyes began to shut, ever so slowly, you followed suit.

And, for an incredibly brief moment, your lips touched his. One, two, maybe three seconds passed before he pulled away from you. You opened your eyes to watch his expression grow a bit puzzled. His smile was tight, and his brows furrowed slightly as he watched you. He seemed deep in thought, with what exactly you couldn’t guess, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable.

At some point his hand had come and was gingerly settled on your hip, which he used to pull you back down. Your elbow practically gave out and you fell a little rough back down on his chest. You couldn’t help but stare widely at the wall for a moment, just listening to his heartbeat again. Was it beating faster than before?

You smiled lightly. You had no idea if this was a step forward in your relationship with the Radio Demon, or if it would be back to ‘friends’ tomorrow, but you decided to just cross your fingers. You reached your arms up to wrap under his neck, and you slowly made yourself comfortable. He had lightly settled his own arms on your back.

You couldn’t help but send silent thanks to that aggressive fish demon from earlier, and a thanks to god himself, as strained as your opinions towards that guy was, for keeping your bed dry.

When Alastor began drawing shapes in your back, gently dragging his sharp nail across your clothed skin, you cast away all worries about the next day out of your head. It all seemed so far away now as you took in the smell of the demon laying underneath you.

You just hoped this would become a regular thing, because man, was this comfortable.

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

A Warm Bed (sequel)

[helen-with-an-a]

Heyy, i hope you're doing well! I wanted to ask if you would be down to write a fic based on the song "drown" by bring me the horizon. I absolutely love this song and it has a place in my heart because this band and also this song carried me through some dark times ( I cried so hard when i heard that song live for the first time 2 months ago xD) . Maybe it could be a barca x reader fic that also deals with $elf h@rm if that is a topic you're comfortable writing about, because reading books and fan fics about this topic has been helping me immensely with my own recovery. So if this is an idea that interests you I would love to read that fic, but if it's a topic you're just not comfortable with feel free to just ignore this ask. (But seriously listen to drown it's such a beautiful song)

Hiiiiii - I hope I did this request and song justice. Please know if you are struggling, you are loved. You are so, so loved and people want to help you. I know asking for help is really hard, but I promise it is worth it. You are worth it.

Drowning

Barça femeni x reader

Description: R feels like she is drowning and the team comes to help her

Word Count: 5.4k

TW: Undescribed Self Harm; Brief mentions of cutting; Bad mental health

Kelly Clarkson once sang that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, that it turns you into a fighter, and helps you stand a little taller. Those words are meant to inspire resilience, to remind you that adversity is supposed to build character and fortify your spirit. But as much as you wanted to believe that, as much as you tried to let those lyrics resonate in your heart, the truth is, you weren’t sure if they were true. You wished with every fibre of your being that they were, but deep down, you felt the weight of life’s challenges pressing down on you. Instead of feeling stronger, you often felt worn down, as if the struggles you faced had chipped away at your resolve rather than bolstered it.

You wanted to feel like a fighter, to stand taller in the face of hardship, but more often than not, you found yourself struggling just to stay on your feet. It was as if each obstacle left a scar that made it harder to move forward, rather than easier. The hope that you’d emerge stronger sometimes felt like a distant dream, and you wondered if that strength Kelly sang about was something you’d ever truly feel.

Half the time, it felt like you were floating – weightless, as if you were drifting through life without a solid anchor. There was a strange sensation of being unmoored, detached from the world around you, almost as if you were existing in a bubble that separated you from everything real and tangible. In those moments, you felt neither grounded nor fully present, as if the weight of your worries and responsibilities had somehow lifted, but so had your sense of purpose and direction. You were there, but not really there – drifting in a kind of limbo where everything seemed just out of reach.

The other half of the time, it felt like you were drowning – barely able to keep your head above the water as the weight of everything threatened to pull you under. The world seemed to close in around you, the pressures and responsibilities of life crashing over you like relentless waves. Each day felt like a struggle just to stay afloat, as if you were constantly treading water in an ocean of overwhelming emotions, fears, and uncertainties.

Your mind was a whirlpool, dragging you down into dark, turbulent depths where it was hard to breathe, hard to think, and hard to see any way out. Every little thing seemed like an anchor, dragging you further beneath the surface, making it harder and harder to find the strength to push back up. The sensation of drowning was terrifying – your heart raced, your breath quickened, and panic took hold as you fought desperately to survive the relentless tide.

In these moments, it felt like you were being suffocated by the weight of your own thoughts and emotions, as if they were water filling your lungs, making it impossible to take a full breath. You tried to fight against it, to keep yourself above the water, but the effort was exhausting, leaving you drained and gasping for air. The more you struggled, the deeper you seemed to sink, and the idea of finding solid ground again felt increasingly out of reach.

There was one thing that brought you a small measure of comfort, a fleeting moment of relief that made you feel a little better. It was like a lifeline thrown to you in the middle of the chaos. Just for that brief instant, your feet were on solid ground again, and you felt a sense of stability that had been missing for so long. In that split second, you weren’t drowning in the suffocating depths of your anxieties, nor were you floating aimlessly through the fog of disconnection.

Instead, you felt anchored, grounded in a reality that was steady and secure. It was as if the storm inside you had paused, and the world had stopped spinning just long enough for you to catch your breath. In that moment, you were fully present, aware of yourself and your surroundings in a way that made everything else fade into the background. The weight that usually pressed so heavily on your chest lifted, and for that brief period, you were able to stand tall and feel the earth beneath you, firm and unwavering.

It didn’t last long – those moments of clarity and peace never did. They slipped away as quickly as they came, like sand through your fingers, leaving you once again adrift in the chaos of your thoughts. The sense of calm and stability that you craved was always fleeting, a temporary reprieve that left you yearning for more. But in the aftermath, when the world once again became overwhelming and your mind descended back into the chaos there was one thing that lingered: the small, neat red lines.

These lines were the only reminder of that brief lucidity, etched into your skin like a secret code that only you could understand. They were delicate but precise, almost methodical in their appearance, as if each one was a calculated attempt to bring some order to the chaos within.

The red lines were your way of marking time, of grounding yourself in a reality that often felt too slippery to hold onto. In those moments when clarity slipped away, when you were once again floating or drowning, they were there to remind you that, for just a moment, you had found your footing. The pain they brought was real, sharp, and immediate – something that could cut through the numbness and confusion, anchoring you back to the present.

It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when life was simpler, when the world seemed brighter and full of possibilities. Your dad used to tell you stories of when you were just a baby, how you were the very picture of happiness –  all gummy smiles and infectious giggles that could light up a room. He would describe how your laughter was so pure, so full of joy, that it could make even the grumpiest person smile. In his eyes, you were a little bundle of sunshine, radiating warmth and love wherever you went.

You often wondered what happened to that little girl, the one who seemed to find joy so easily in everything around her. Where did she go? What changed between those carefree days and now, when the world feels so heavy and your heart so burdened? You tried to remember the last time you felt that kind of unrestrained happiness, but the memories were hazy, like trying to recall a dream that had long since faded.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when things started to shift, when the lightness began to slip away, replaced by something much darker. Maybe it was a gradual process, so slow and subtle that you didn’t notice it happening until one day you woke up and realised that the little girl who used to laugh so easily was gone. Or maybe it was something more abrupt, a single event that changed everything, though you couldn’t quite remember what it might have been.

There were times when you’d catch a glimpse of her, that little girl, in the mirror – perhaps in a fleeting smile or a brief moment of joy – but she was always just out of reach, like a shadow that vanished as soon as you tried to hold onto it. The happiness that once came so naturally now felt like a distant memory, something that belonged to a different time, a different version of yourself.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, a mourning for the person you used to be, for the life you used to live. What had happened to that carefree spirit, the one who saw the world as a place of wonder and possibility? Where did all those smiles and giggles go, replaced by the weight of anxiety and the burden of unspoken sadness?

You wished you could find your way back to her, to that little girl who knew how to be happy without even trying. But the path seemed unclear, the way forward uncertain, and all you were left with were the memories of who you used to be and the quiet hope that maybe, someday, you might rediscover that lost joy.

Ingrid had sensed that something was off the very first time she met you. It was as if she could see right through the façade you were trying so hard to maintain. You were just 17 at the time, still so young, yet there was something about the way you carried yourself that spoke of a weariness far beyond your years. Most teenagers were full of restless energy, eager to explore the world and discover who they were, but you – there was a heaviness in your eyes, a kind of fatigue that no child should ever have to bear.

When you stood before her, Ingrid could see that the weight of the world was already pressing down on your shoulders. It was in the way you held yourself, as if every movement took a conscious effort, every step a deliberate act to keep from being overwhelmed by the burden you carried. You tried to smile, to present yourself as just another teenager navigating the usual challenges of adolescence, but even your smile seemed strained, like it was something you had to force rather than something that came naturally.

Ingrid noticed how you seemed to shrink into yourself, as if trying to make yourself smaller, less noticeable, perhaps in the hope that the world might go easier on you if you took up less space. But it was impossible to ignore the sadness that lingered behind your eyes, a sadness that seemed to have settled there long before its time. It was as if you had lived through experiences that had aged you in ways that others your age couldn’t begin to understand.

There was an unspoken tension in the way you interacted with others, a hesitation that suggested you had learned to guard yourself carefully. Ingrid could tell that you were wary of letting anyone get too close, as if you were afraid that if someone saw too much, they might unravel the carefully constructed image you were trying so desperately to hold together. It was a kind of self-protection, a shield you had built to keep the world at arm’s length, but Ingrid could see through it.

She saw the exhaustion etched into your posture, the way your shoulders slumped ever so slightly, as if the weight you carried was too much to bear alone. And though you were still just a teenager, still supposed to be discovering the joys and freedoms of youth, there was an undeniable gravity about you, a maturity born out of hardship that no one your age should have had to endure.

She had gone straight to Mapí, her heart heavy with worry and a sense of urgency she couldn’t ignore. Mapí had always been her anchor, the one person she could turn to when everything else seemed to be spiralling out of control. There was a comfort in Mapí’s presence, a kind of steady reassurance that made the world feel a little less chaotic. And in that moment, when she felt like she was drowning in her own thoughts, there was no one else she could think of who could help her make sense of it all.

As she approached Mapí, she could see the girl was already watching her, those perceptive eyes filled with a quiet understanding. Mapí had always been like that – intuitive, almost as if she could sense when something was wrong without a single word being spoken. It was as if she could read the unspoken emotions, the things that others overlooked or dismissed, and she knew just how to respond without being told.

“I’m worried about her,” Ingrid said quietly to Mapí, her voice tinged with concern as she gestured with her head in your direction. There was a seriousness in her tone that caught Mapí’s attention immediately. Ingrid wasn’t one to express worry lightly; if she was concerned, it meant something was truly wrong.

“Who?” Mapí asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to follow Ingrid’s line of sight. She turned to see who Ingrid was referring to, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

“Den lille,” Ingrid replied softly. It was a name that fit you perfectly, even though you were no longer a small child. To Ingrid, you would always be den lille, the one who needed looking after, the one she couldn’t help but worry about.

Mapí’s gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you sat off to the side, your shoulders hunched slightly as if you were trying to make yourself invisible. She saw the way your fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of your shorts, a nervous habit she had noticed before but never truly understood until now. There was something about your posture, the way you seemed so withdrawn, that tugged at her heart. You looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it didn’t sit right with Mapí.

“She’s been different lately,” Ingrid continued, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words out loud would somehow make them more real. “I’m scared, María.”

Mapí’s heart ached at Ingrid’s words. The concern in Ingrid’s voice was palpable, a stark contrast to the usual composed and confident demeanour she typically displayed. The way Ingrid had hesitated before speaking, the trembling edge to her voice, suggested that this was more than just a fleeting worry – it was a deep, gnawing fear that had taken root in her heart.

Mapí turned her full attention to you, her eyes softening. There was an undeniable shift in your demeanour that had been building over time, and it was clear now that Ingrid’s fears were not unfounded. The way you sat, so isolated and withdrawn, seemed like a cry for help that was too quiet to be heard. Mapí could feel the gravity of the situation pressing down on her, the realisation that something needed to be done before it was too late.

“Ale will know what to do,” Mapí said with false bravado, trying to mask the tremor in her voice behind a veneer of confidence. Her words were meant to reassure Ingrid, to offer a glimmer of hope amidst the growing uncertainty, but inside, she felt a pang of doubt.

Mapí had always relied on Alexia’s wisdom and experience, believing her to be someone who could handle even the most complex of situations with ease. She had a way of approaching problems with calm assurance and a strategic mindset that often brought clarity and solutions where there seemed to be none. Mapí hoped that, with Alexia’s involvement, they could find a way to help you navigate the turmoil you were experiencing.

She knew, however, that this situation was different. The weight of it felt heavier, more personal. Her usually steadfast confidence was being tested, and despite her efforts to maintain a brave front, she couldn’t completely suppress the anxiety that gnawed at her.

Ingrid glanced at Mapí, a mixture of hope and scepticism in her eyes. “You really think so?” she asked, her voice laced with both trust and apprehension.

“Absolutely,” Mapí replied, her tone firm despite the fluttering unease in her chest.

Alexia had noticed the changes in you too, though her observations were more subtle, filtered through a lens of quiet concern rather than overt worry. She had seen you through different stages of life, from the carefree moments of adolescence to the more introspective phases, but lately, something had shifted, and she couldn’t ignore the signs any longer.

It was in the way you interacted with others, or rather, how you had started to withdraw from those interactions. Alexia, who had always admired your vibrant energy and effortless charm, now saw you retreating into yourself. The once bright and engaging conversations seemed to dwindle, replaced by a more subdued presence that she struggled to reconcile with the person she once knew.

She noticed how you would often linger on the periphery of group activities, participating only half-heartedly, if at all. Your laughter, which used to come so easily, had become rare and forced, a stark contrast to the genuine joy that used to light up your face. Even your physical appearance had changed; where there was once a confident posture, there was now a noticeable slouch, a sign of the weight you seemed to be carrying.

Alexia also observed the small, telling habits that had shifted. The way you fidgeted with your clothes or avoided eye contact during conversations spoke volumes about your internal struggle. It was as if you were trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, a stark departure from the once lively and assertive person she had known.

“Ale, we need to talk,” Mapí said firmly, cornering Alexia in the changing rooms after training one afternoon. Her voice was low and serious, carrying an undertone of urgency that instantly drew Alexia’s full attention. The usual post-training chatter and the clamor of lockers being shut were fading into the background as the gravity of Mapí’s tone cut through the noise.

“Is everything okay?” Alexia asked, her voice betraying a hint of concern as she met Mapí’s gaze. The look in Mapí’s eyes was one Alexia hadn’t seen very often – an earnestness and resolve that spoke of something deeper than just a casual chat. The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, the room suddenly feeling smaller, more confined as the weight of the conversation settled in.

“No, it’s not,” Ingrid replied, her tone steady but laden with emotion.

Three sets of eyes turned to look at you, the subject of their concern. You sat on a bench, somewhat apart from the group, absorbed in your own thoughts, unaware of the intensity of the discussion unfolding just a few feet away. The distance between you and the others was more than physical; it was as though a chasm had opened up, underscoring the emotional divide that had grown.

You looked so tired. It was a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion, a heaviness that seemed to seep into your very bones. The vibrant energy that once defined you had dimmed, leaving behind a shadow of your former self.

Your eyes, which used to sparkle with curiosity and joy, were now clouded with a fatigue that spoke volumes about the battles you were fighting internally. They were deep and dark, the kind of tiredness that comes from sleepless nights and unspoken worries. The once bright and animated expression you wore had given way to a distant gaze that struggled to focus on the world around you. When you did look up, it was with a slow, measured effort, as if the simple act of meeting someone’s eyes required more energy than you had to spare. Your gaze seemed to drift in and out of focus, mirroring the exhaustion that you felt but could not escape.

Your training top seemed far too big on you now, the fabric hanging off you like a draped shroud. It was as if the clothes themselves reflected the way you had withdrawn from the world; they looked oversized and loose, emphasising the contrast between your current state and the vibrant person you used to be.

Every small movement you made seemed laboured, as though even the simplest actions required a tremendous amount of effort. Your shoulders slouched slightly, as if weighed down by an invisible burden that made every step feel heavier. The casual confidence that once characterised your movements had been replaced by a tentative, almost cautious mannerism, as though you were trying to conserve every ounce of energy you had.

Your breathing was steady but shallow, and every now and then, you let out a sigh that seemed to escape from somewhere deep inside you – a sigh that spoke of exhaustion and resignation. The small, subtle gestures you made, like tucking your hands into your sleeves or curling your legs up on the bench, were instinctive attempts to find some semblance of comfort or protection in a moment where you felt particularly vulnerable.

“Oh, cariño,” Alexia whispered, her heart breaking at the sight of you. The term of endearment slipped from her lips like a soft breath of sorrow, laden with a depth of feeling that words alone could not fully convey. It was a tender utterance meant to bridge the emotional chasm that seemed to separate you from everyone around you.

As Alexia watched you, her eyes were filled with a deep sadness that mirrored the gravity of the moment. The sight of you, sitting apart from the group, lost in your own thoughts, was more than Alexia could bear. Her heart ached as she took in the full extent of your weariness. It was clear that this was not just a fleeting moment of fatigue but a profound, ongoing struggle that had seeped into your very being. The vibrant spirit she once knew seemed overshadowed by a deep, unspoken sorrow that had taken hold.

You weren’t sure why you phoned Ona, out of all people. It wasn’t like you were particularly close with her; in fact, your interactions with her had always been somewhat limited and casual. You knew her mostly through mutual friends and shared activities, exchanging pleasantries and brief conversations but never delving deeply into each other's lives. Yes, you considered her a friend, but your one-on-one time had been minimal, mostly restricted to group settings or casual encounters. She wasn’t someone you confided in regularly, nor did you have a history of sharing personal struggles or intimate details.

Yet, in the midst of your crisis, when everything felt out of control and the world seemed to have narrowed to the confines of your bathroom floor, Ona’s name was the first to come to mind. You sat there, the cold tiles pressing against your legs, a razor gripped tightly in one hand, its cold edge a stark reminder of the darkness you were grappling with. Your thoughts were a swirling mix of desperation and confusion, and in that chaotic mental fog, Ona’s name emerged almost instinctively.

It was an odd choice, and you struggled to understand it yourself. Perhaps it was the nature of your relationship with her – though not deeply personal, it was still a connection that felt solid enough to offer some semblance of support. Sometimes, the familiarity of a person, even if not deeply entrenched, can provide a sense of comfort in moments of profound vulnerability. Ona had always been approachable and kind, traits that, despite the limited interaction, might have seemed reassuring in your current state.

There was also something to be said for the randomness of human emotion and instinct. In moments of deep distress, the mind often grasps at whatever feels familiar, even if it’s not the most logical choice. Ona, being someone who had always been friendly and supportive, perhaps embodied a sense of stability and kindness that was desperately needed in that moment.

“Hola?” Her voice came through the phone, laden with sleep, thick with the grogginess of having been abruptly roused from slumber. There was a softness to her tone, a slow, drowsy lilt that spoke of the deep relaxation she had been in just moments before. The initial, half-hearted curiosity in her voice quickly sharpened into something more alert as she processed the unusual hour and the unexpected call.

“I …” You began, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the overwhelming emotions that had gripped you. Your voice trembled, barely more than a whisper, laden with a mixture of vulnerability and desperation. It was as if the sheer effort of making the call had drained you, leaving only a fragile thread of sound that barely carried your intent.

“Pequeña?” Ona’s voice was suddenly more awake, filled with concern. The fragility in your voice, so unlike the casual exchanges you had shared before, pierced through her initial drowsiness. The realisation that something was seriously wrong caused her to sit upright in bed, the sense of alarm and urgency pushing away the remnants of sleep.

“Help me,” you managed to utter, the words escaping in a pained whisper

You woke up in hospital. The room cold and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the biting chill that seemed to seep into your very bones, despite the layers of blankets draped over you. The air felt thin and clinical – you had never known such an impersonal space existed. The walls were a clinical shade of white, interrupted only by the occasional piece of medical equipment or the sparse, functional décor meant to provide minimal distraction. The lighting was bright and unyielding, casting a harsh glare that made the room feel even colder and more impersonal. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, their steady hum creating a rhythm that seemed oddly out of place.

Your bed, positioned at the centre of the room, was surrounded by a fortress of medical paraphernalia. An IV drip hung beside you, its clear fluids slowly trickling down a tube that was taped to your arm. The beeping of a heart monitor provided a steady, monotonous cadence, a reminder of the life support systems that were now a part of your immediate environment. The rhythmic sound was oddly comforting and unnerving all at once, a constant reminder of your current state and the care being provided.

The air was filled with a faint, antiseptic scent – a mix of cleaning agents and medicinal odours that seemed to hang in the atmosphere like an unwelcome guest. It was a smell that clung to everything, from the freshly laundered hospital sheets to the disposable gowns and sterile gloves that the medical staff wore.

There was a warm weight in your right hand. It took you a moment to realise what it was. A hand. A hand connected to an arm, that led to a shoulder, that was attached to a whole person. The fingers resting gently in your grasp were familiar and comforting, their gentle pressure offering a steady reassurance. You turned your head slightly, and through the haze of your groggy state, you saw the face of the person whose hand you were holding.

“Hi,” Ona smiled softly, her expression a blend of warmth and reassurance.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a weak echo of her greeting, laden with the exhaustion and vulnerability you felt. Your gaze drifted to the hand still resting in yours. She followed your stare, squeezing gently when she realised what you were looking at.

 “The others have got to get food,” Ona continued, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s just us, if you want to talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?” you countered, the words a defense mechanism. If you denied it, it would all go away.

“Do not play dumb, pequeña.” Ona’s voice carried a note of gentle reproach. Her tone was soft but resolute.

“I …” you began, but the words seemed to falter before they could take shape. The enormity of your emotions was difficult to articulate, and the effort to speak felt almost insurmountable. You struggled to find the right words, your thoughts jumbled and disjointed.

But how could she truly understand? What little you knew about her life seemed almost painfully perfect by comparison. From the outside, Ona’s existence appeared to be a seamless tapestry of success and happiness. Her football career was thriving, each game a testament to her skill and dedication. She was admired and celebrated by teammates and fans alike, her talent on the field a source of pride and achievement.

Her relationship was also the stuff of dreams. Ona had Lucy, someone who seemed to bring out the best in her, their interactions marked by genuine affection and mutual support. They were often seen together, sharing moments of joy and laughter that spoke of a deep and abiding connection. Their bond was one of those rare partnerships that seemed to transcend the everyday challenges, offering a glimpse into a love that was both passionate and enduring.

Her circle of friends appeared to be equally ideal. They were supportive and loyal, always there for one another through thick and thin. The camaraderie and warmth of their friendship were evident in the way they interacted, their shared moments of happiness and mutual encouragement. It was a friendship that seemed to offer a solid foundation, a network of support that was both comforting and reliable.

And then there was her family – an image of stability and happiness. They were often seen together, their interactions filled with laughter and love. The family dynamic seemed to be one of mutual respect and genuine affection, a supportive backdrop to Ona’s life that added to the picture of her seemingly perfect existence.

In contrast, your own life felt chaotic and fraught with difficulties. The weight of your struggles seemed all the more daunting when juxtaposed against Ona’s polished image. It was easy to feel that her understanding of your pain was limited, that the perfection you saw in her life might somehow preclude her from fully grasping the depth of your own challenges. You wondered if her empathy was genuine or if it was simply a reflection of her innate kindness, an attempt to reach across the chasm of your differences and offer comfort despite the apparent disparity between your lives.

“If you don’t want to talk yet, that’s fine. But let me show you something.” She pushed up her sleeve.

C O N T ; N U E

“You’re not alone in this, pequeña. No one is ever alone.” Ona’s voice was steady, a soft but firm anchor amidst the storm. She shifted slightly, her fingers gently tracing over a tattoo on her arm. “I got this just after I moved to England,” she began, her tone becoming more reflective. “I felt so alone. I didn’t speak the language very well, I had no friends, and we were in lockdown. Everything was different.” Her gaze softened as she looked at the tattoo, her fingers moving lightly over its surface, as if the act itself was a form of remembering and honouring a past struggle.

The room seemed to grow quieter, the beeping of the monitors and the distant murmur of the hospital blending into a background hum as Ona continued. “I almost did it, y’know. I was really, really close – had the bottle and everything.” Her voice wavered slightly, a rare crack in the veneer of her composed exterior. “I haven’t even told Lucy this.” She laughed humourlessly.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, the question hanging in the air.

Ona took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours as she smiled gently. “Alessia knocked on my door. She noticed I looked a little down and came to check on me. I don’t know if she saw the pills or not, but she stayed with me all day.” The warmth in her eyes deepened as she spoke. “She asked me to teach her some Spanish, she taught me how to make pasta from scratch. She didn’t let me leave her side for three days. Even then, as soon as she left Tooney appeared.”

“Wh-why are you telling me this?” Your voice quivered, the words struggling to get out over the lump in your throat.

Ona’s eyes softened with a blend of compassion and determination. “So that you know you’re not alone,” she began, her voice steady and full of quiet resolve. “I don’t know the ins and outs of what you’re going through, but just know that I’m here, we all are. We aren’t going anywhere.” She promised.

She paused, allowing her words to settle, as if to let the depth of her meaning fully resonate. You blinked, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you. Tears began to well up in your eyes. The tears were a mixture of relief and sadness.

“You are loved, pequeña. So, so loved. And we will be here for you, no matter what, no matter how long it takes.”

[kupidachillea]

I really liked you're yanderr Olympians x Reader :3 is it okay to ask for some hcs on yan! Hermes and reader? Only if its okay either you!!

Yandere Hermes x Reader Hcs! (Or imagines)

Author note: This will be kind of connected to the original Olympians x Reader hcs, hope you don’t mind. But also thank you for the request hope you enjoy.

TW (trigger warning): The writing ahead contains mentions of emotional manipulation, gaslighting, general yandere and toxic behaviour, manipulation, slight abuse(bondage). Please note that I don’t condone any of these things and everything here is fiction. With that said, please read at your own discretion.

✉️- You’re lonely..of course you are. How could you not be when yourself stuck on this mountain?

🪶- Most would consider it an honour, a blessing even, but you knew better. It was a curse, and there was no way to convince you otherwise.

✉️-You had tried multiple times to try and escape. Try to flee only to end up right back where you didn’t want to be. Usually this would end in you being bound in chains of gold, infused with magic or worse things that left scars to tell what happened. The gods found it amusing. Watching you struggle and act all defiant.

🪶- It was their form of entertainment. “How cute..” Poseidon would muse since your latest attempt to escape. “I don’t know why the mortal keeps trying to…they’re not going to make it off this mountain. Alive that is..” Hera would sigh. She didn’t really care much, though she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t pity you in the slightest.

✉️- You just couldn’t take it anymore. You were sick of being up here, you’ve been in the mountain long enough to memorise where all the rooms and paths were.. it was downright ridiculous.

🪶- You didn’t care if you escaped anymore..all you wanted to do was touch the grass again..to listen to the birds in the trees and to feel the running water of the streams and rivers.

✉️- you wished that someone, anyone would hear you wishes and at least grant you 30 minutes of freedom..if you could even call it that. However fortunately (or unfortunately) for you..there was one such person that heard your cry. A certain someone that wasn’t afraid to bend the rules or stir up trouble. Whether it be for the benefit of others, himself or even to deliver a simple message.

🪶- Hermes was that god. He had been listening in to your little cries of despair and felt your home sickness from a mile away. How could he not take this opportunity given to him to care for his favourite lover? He was the god of travelling after all, among other things so he just had to step in.

✉️- And so the feathered friend (or rather fiend) approached you as somewhat of an angel of light. Opening a door for you that you had assumed was shut forever.

🪶- “Wouldn’t you like to get off of this old rock, hm~?” He would ask, a slight hum in his voice as he floated in front of you. You were sat on the marble floor, probably sulking a bit to yourself until the messenger had showed up. Without a second thought to his words you nodded. Wasting no time in taking his hand, so excited that you missed the devious little grin that had started to appear on his lips.

✉️-And that..was the beginning of what you thought would be a great companionship.

. 🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.🪶.

🪶- Over the course of those few days to a week, you and Hermes spent time away from the mountain and down on earth in the forest near mount Olympus.

✉️- And you had to admit; they were great. For once you felt like you were actually enjoying yourself. While you would enjoy the greenery and flora, Hermes would make up excuses for why you couldn’t spend time with the other Olympians.

🪶- He of course being a trickster did what he did best. Of course the others weren’t happy, especially Apollo who had demanded to see you but Hermes wouldn’t let him.

✉️- He even threatened majority of the surrounding nymphs and satyrs to not say a word about what he was doing. Obviously they listened though one particular satyr needed a little reminder on why snitches get stitches…let’s just say that Hermes acquired a new horn after that incident…

🪶- When Hermes wasn’t threatening the lowkey forest creatures he was with you. Sweet talking you..trying to get you to relax more around him. And you did to some extent. Just enough to let him touch and hold your hand..

✉️- But that wasn’t enough for Hermes. He thought he deserved more. Of course he did.. so he pushed. Being a little more greedy than he should’ve.

🪶- “Y’know..We’ve been spending a lot of time with each other and not once have you offered me a kiss..” He spoke one day while you were sitting near a stream next to him. You hummed in response, not really sure how to respond. “I guess..I’m not all too ready for that yet..” you would reply.

✉️- This caused the messenger god to furrow his brows. Lifting his helmet up a bit to get a better look at you. “And why not..?” He asked..his voice taking on a slightly aggressive tone. This would cause you to tense and shiver. “I just…can’t..I’m not ready..I-”

🪶- He didn’t let you finish, he grasped your wrist tightly and scowled. “You can’t ? After everything I’ve done for you? You can’t give me a simple kiss?” he hissed. His tone obviously took you by surprise considering how gentle he had been all this time. But you somehow started to feel..guilty? Why? Why did you feel guilty?

✉️- Hermes continued. “I saw you upset and wallowing in despair, I brought you out from the mountain to be happy. I’ve lied to my own family, my king! Just for you and this is how you repay me?!” Hermes was obviously lying again. He had no issue in lying to his family. He’s done it more times than anyone..he just wants you to feel bad..and it seemed to be working with how your eyes shrunk in fear and darted away with a hint of guilt. ‘Perfect’ he’d think to himself.

🪶- “Maybe I should’ve just left you alone. I doubt the others would’ve done what I did for you…in fact, maybe I should’ve bring you back up to the mountain and chain you down so that they can have their way with you- does that sound better, Dear ?” Hermes crooned..his voice was taunting yet threatening and your eyes widened when he threatened to leave you in the hands of the other Olympians. You frantically shook your head no, you didn’t want that..not at all.

✉️-A kiss truly wasn’t as bad as what the others would do to you. A kiss won’t hurt..right? You sheepishly took his hands in yours, your eyes pleading as you spoke. “Wait- no…please don’t do that.. I’m grateful, I truly am, Hermes. I’m sorry if I made it seem like I wasn’t..I was just..nervous..” You admitted and Hermes cooed..his eyes softening as he moved his hand to your cheek..stoking it gently with his thumb.

🪶- “Oh Darling..it’s okay, you have nothing to be nervous about..it’s just a kiss, right? You can do that for me, can’t you my little mortal?” He didn’t wait for an answer before leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. The action causing your heart to leap and your breath to catch in your throat.,you couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or excitement.

✉️-However, you eventually gave in..kissing the messenger go back which caused him to smirk against your lips. He pulled you into his body. His arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed you more passionately. A soft moan leaving the god and the wings on the sides of his head fluttering with joy. Though you’re not sure if you share such a feeling. You felt something but you weren’t sure of it.

🪶- Soon enough Hermes pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath as he chuckled and stroked your hair. He rested your head in his chest and cooed while you stared at the grass with a conflicted expression on your face.

✉️- “There, there, my sweet mortal…You have nothing to fear. I’ll always be here for you..remember that.” Hermes would utter softly and you gulped subtly..wondering if you had just made a mistake in trusting the messenger god in the first place.

Author note: Oof, I wrote this at like 3am. I’m starting to realise my ‘HCs’ aren’t really like Hcs at all, but I still hope you all enjoy. Also forgive me. That kissing scene wasn’t really the best.. I was flip flopping between descriptive or not that descriptive 😭. But anyway hope you enjoy Anon!