#yes yes the second image is about the food he made for her but it still counts bc she’s impressed by his culinary creations. n e x t.

[blood-and-pizza]

FINALLY finished watching Dawko's entire playthrough, so here come the screenshots! (SPOILERS GALORE, COMPLETELY OUT OF ORDER)

So... his name isn't Music Man, or Maestro Man, or even Musicbox Man. His name... is Big Top. I was waaaaaaaaaaay off.

This happy birthday poster of that weird dog character Edwin made. The art style is reminiscent of Hanna-Barbera cartoons; he looks like Doggy Daddy!

Yes, Edwin Murray made Candy Cadet. Holy crap, that robot is HELLA old! He's older than Freddy Fazbear!! And yet he still outlived William Afton. I fucking love Candy Cadet.

Captain Springlock, a springlock animatronic suit character. Guess who's in his crew?

Foxy the Pirate! Apparently, I was wrong about Roxy pre-dating him. They're the same age! He's called Puppet Foxy here. Foxy is Captain Springlock's first mate. They have a bunch of other puppets as crew members, including Kit the fox kit, Bawson the Badger, Renard the cook, and Puppet Roxy.

Just a random character. This is the most depressed caterpillar I have ever seen. Is he sad because he'll never be a butterfly?

The Clean-O-Vac! Gosh, it's adorable!!

David's ball. The one that got him killed. He got it as a present for his second birthday.

A cut-out of Deadeye Roxy! I LOVE HER.

A ticket book for Fall Fest.

A Lally's Lollies poster, plus a closeup that shows Fazbear Entertainment has a food brand! Fazbear Foods. How scary...

Mrs. Helpful, who is voiced by Fiona Murray. Apparently, she says "Have a wonder-iffic day" as a catchphrase. This has to be where "Have a Faz-eriffic day" came from. GROSS! Fazbear Entertainment ruined something wholesome, like always.

A poster for Fredbear's Singin' Show, and a record of music from that show.

This is the operating system for the computer terminals in the manor. H.E.L.P.E.R. is short for "Human Education and Language Protocol Element Router".

Jest cereal and its mascot. Apparently the prizes inside were made by Edwin himself... too bad all of his inventions are faulty as hell. Apparently, one customer complained because a hand buzzer paralyzed their dog. Ouch...

I've hit my image limit, so another post is coming.

[deus-ex-mona]

there’s just something so precious about the way hiyori looks at nagisa…

[petite-siren06]

Forced Heat [Fem Chubby Bunny Reader] {Smut + Fluff}

Image from Pinterest by: Ti✦na

CW: Breeding, Knotting..

Not Proofread

You're a bunny hybrid, the last of your kind and through the time in imprisonment in this laboratory you were cautious of everything that did. The food they gave you, the stares, the tests. Everything freaked you out. It took a long while for you to get used to your new living conditions. The scientist in charge made sure to give you a habitat that suited to your needs instead of putting you in a cell since you were the last of your species so they made sure to take extra special care of you. So why did they think to pair you with a predator species? That was the last thing you wanted and apparently he felt the same way. “Why am I paired up with this inferior creature?” The wolf hybrid snarled at the scientist. You could only frown at his harsh words. His words stung just because you were a prey species doesn’t mean you are less important than the predators. “We are trying to see if you two are compatible Matias. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” One of the scientists warned him. Matias huffs in annoyance as he stares at you.

He sits down on the opposite of you in the tiny cell they put both of you in. “So what’s special that they had to pair me up with a small and chubby thing like you?” Matias said as he scrutinized you harshly. “Beats me.. I don’t want to be here any more than you do so please can we get this done.” You tried extending an olive branch to him. “Fine but we somehow are compatible enough to be mates. I don't want to hear any complaints from you.” Matias said with harsh glare. “So what’s your name, little bunny?” “[Y/N], My name is [Y/N]..” You told him with an unreadable expression. “[Y/N]” He took a second to digest the information. “It seems to fit you nicely. Yeah, I like that name.” Matias said as his lips slightly twitched upwards. Your eyes raked over his body. He was fit and lean, he didn’t have too much muscle which was good but he also had a lot of scars. “I’m guessing you're a warrior? Judging from your scars.” You asked him with curiosity. His gaze seemed to harden once you spoke about his scars. Your eyes widen in slight panic from his reaction. Matias then let out a sigh. “Yes, I was one of the warriors of my clan. All my scars came from different battles.” He informed you. As he starts to ramble about his scars you choose to get closer to him. He continued to talk and talk until you made it to the other side and sat beside him.

You then grabbed his hand and when you did that seemed to grab his attention. You pressed soft kisses to his scarred hand. You could feel him tense up but he didn’t pull his hand away. A soft ding noise echoed through the room. The scientists then entered the room with clipboards in hand. “Congrats you two. You both are compatible to be mates.” One of the male scientists with a sly smirk. Matias wrapped an arm around your plush waist signaling the male scientist to watch his words. “Alright, I see you're already getting protective of her.” He said with a chuckle. “Alright, guards take them back to their rooms.” The other scientist called for the guards.As the guards escorted both you and Matias back to your room you gave him a small reassuring smile. He saw it and couldn’t help but smile back. 

As time went on the scientist found that you and Matias were the best fit for each well and mostly because once two hybrids mate they won’t be compatible with anyone else. So one day they decided to do a specific test only with you and not Matias. “It’s just some medicine [Y/N] relax.” The scientist said in a reassuring tone as she held up a syringe. Although it didn’t look like medicine, you'd rather obey than go without dinner again. So you lifted your arm and let them stick the needle inside of you. They injected  the “medicine” and it didn’t seem to take effect immediately you sighed thankfully. You were free to go back to your room but as you were escorted back to your room you couldn’t help but feel your body heat up.

Whatever they gave you it made you go into your heat faster than anticipated so you were humping anything you got your hands on.. Anything to make the aching feeling in your cunt go away but nothing seemed to be working.  You whined in pain as you humped the pillow that was drenched in your slick. “Get her mate, we have enough data and she looks like she needs him.” One of the scientists told the guards. Soon you heard the door to your habitat open and you saw your mate and he looked beyond worried. “Pumpkin, I’m so sorry.. Here let me help you.” Matias said as he unzipped his pants and freed his cock. He took the pillow away from you and flipped you onto your back. He positions you into a mating press as he aligns his cock into your dripping sex. He hissed as he pushed himself into you. You could only groan as you wrapped your legs around him to pull him in deeper. Once fully inside you he started at a slow pace but then gradually sped up. “Gonna give you some pups but first gotta take care of my baby.” He cooed as he kissed your soft plump cheek. “God my baby is so perfect..” Matias whined as he felt you clench around him. “Focus on my cock honey, focus on how it fills you nicely and perfectly.” He encouraged you as he thrusted roughly instead of you causing you to cry out in pleasure. The sound of other hybrids in contaminate cheered Matias on as he continued to help you with your forced heat cycle.

Matias feels you tighten around him, he bites back a groan and he thrusts one last time before he paints your walls white, he orgasm triggers your own and you moan out his name as you creamed around his knotted cock. You start to whine as you feel the base of his cock start to swell inside of you. ”I know.. I know sweetheart this is just to help you a little bit more.” He reassured you as he nuzzled his face into your hair as he inhaled your sweet scent. Your body trembles as it slowly gets used to the stretch. After a few mins Matias’s knot swells down and he pulls out of you. You sighed in content as you felt his strong arms wrap around your chubby body. You felt him rub his hand over your chubby tummy. “Can’t wait to see your belly swell up with our pups.” He said affectionately as looked into your eyes. “I’ll protect you and our babies. I promise my love.” He said as he pressed his lips against yours. “I love you” He whispers against your lips.

Image from Pinterest by: Grafik Dizayn

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Their First Real Argument

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~

Author's Note: so sorry (not really) for ruining the perfect couple image but I fear I needed some angst... ;) Summary: Luke makes a financial decision without Y/N and several arguments spiral out of it Warnings: raised voices, brief description of childhoods Word Count: 1,683 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

She’s been panicking since her last class ended. The entire drive home took nearly forty minutes for three different accidents on all three different routes back to their apartment. The rent was due today and at every hour on the hour, her half of the rent had yet to leave her account. 

She thought that maybe her card was declining and that the money in her account was too low. She had a two hundred dollar buffer for the rent, she was fine. But somehow the money has yet to leave her account. She’s been living in that apartment complex since she started college; not once has she missed rent. 

But now she has and she was on the verge of crying and having a panic attack over the money that should have left her account. She flew into the apartment, her breathing was heavy. Luke was eating a bowl of cereal when she walked in. His eyes widened as he instantly stood up from the barstool chair that was with their kitchen island.

“Hey baby, are you okay?” he asked as his mouth was still full.

“Did the rent come out of your account today?” she asked breathlessly. Quickly, swallowing his food he nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay–”

“The whole thing? My half didn’t come out of the account,” she took a deep breath as she scanned his features. 

“Yeah, you were talking about how you worried about buying coffee before class and how you didn’t want to waste money. So I thought you could use that half and save up some fun money or whatever,” Luke explained nonchalantly. Y/N nodded and blinked slowly as she delicately dropped her bag by the door. Carefully and silently, she took off her shoes and rested them beside the shoe rack. 

“You did that without talking to me? Luke, I’ve been freaking out all day about thi–”

“Okay, yes, I probably should’ve said something first–”

“Probably? Luke, it’s eight hundred dollars! You can’t make decisions like that without me,” 

“Well, I was trying to be nice, Y/N,”

“Luke, I appreciate that but you seriously cannot just assume that I would be okay with this,” she said while shaking her head. She tugged the jacket from her frame in the process. “When it comes to money, you cannot keep me out of the decisions. This is our life together,” 

“Okay but Baby, you’ve been stressing yourself out with work and school and money. You deserve to treat yourself to coffee everyday. I have the money, so I wanted to give you a break. I just thought that if you cut back a little then maybe–” he trailed off as he met her gaze and noticed the furrowing of her eyebrows.

“What do you mean cut back, Luke?” She rested her hands on her hips. He took a deep breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Okay, this isn’t exactly how I wanted to have this conversation but–uhm. I was thinking that maybe I would handle all of the bills we have and you would just focus on school.” he offered to avoid her gaze for a few seconds.

“Sounds like you’ve already made that decision for me, honey,” she scoffed as she walked past him and faced away from him.

“No,” he drew out the word as he took a few steps towards her. “I am trying to have the conversation with you right now,” 

“It shouldn’t be a conversation, Luke. Has the thought ever cross your mind that maybe that I like working, that maybe I like making my own money,” 

“I understand, baby, I’m not saying never work again but maybe give yourself some time to have a life,” he explained as he rested his hand against the countertop.

She spun around quickly on her heels, a frown on her lips. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Luke dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as he took a hesitant breath. “Before I moved in, you were working almost full time and going to school full time. You were miserable, baby, so moving in helped but I hate seeing you push yourself so hard when you don’t need to. I have more than enough money to handle the bills and you could just focus on your classes,” 

She nodded slowly while her bottom lip quivered. “Thank you, I’m so glad to hear that moving in together was out of convenience instead of starting our life together. That’s very reassuring, Luke,” she explained sarcastically. 

“That’s not what I said, Y/N, and you know it,” he let out with a dry laugh leaving his lips. 

“No, Luke, but that’s how you sounded.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/N!” he let out while shaking his head.

“I am not going to stop working.”

“Why is that such an awful idea?” Luke let out with an exasperated sigh. Y/N walked away from him again.

“Because I don’t want to depend on you! I am not going to be one of those WAGS that stay at home and cooks and cleans and just waits for you to come home. I am not going to be one of those girls, Luke. I’m just not,” 

“I’m not asking you to do that! I’m saying that you slow down for a few months. Then when you're done with school. We’ll revisit this conversation.” he said as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“There is nothing to revisit. I am not going to stop working. I like being busy. I like having a job. I am going to start a career after I graduate. Luke, I am not going to change that,” 

He shook his head, “Yeah, like teaching will be a huge pay increase,” he mumbled under his breath.

Her eyes widened as her eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. “Oh, I’m sorry that I wasn’t handed my career by being born with the last name Hughes,” she shot back, not afraid to say it with her chest. 

“Y/N, what is that supposed to mean?” he stepped towards her as he looked deeply into her eyes. 

She took a deep breath as she raised her hand up and wiped a small tear that started to fall onto her cheek. “I’m sorry, Luke, that was out of line, I’m sorry,”

“It was but you said it anyway, so what is that supposed to mean?” Luke said while running his fingers through his hair. 

“You were lucky to have parents that were able to give you every resource you could ever dream of. Luke, you didn’t have to think about money until you signed an NHL contract. You didn’t have to think about food on the table when you were eleven years old. You didn’t have to hear your parents worry about the heater turning off for missing one too many bills. You are so lucky not to have to get a job at fourteen to help your parents pay the bills.” she explained, pointing her fingers towards him. 

“You are so lucky, so yes I like going to school and working. I like it because I earned it. I worked my ass off to get my career. I know it is a small fraction of what you’ll make. But I deserve to be happy about getting a degree and having a job. I deserve to be happy about what I have earned! I’m not saying you didn’t work hard because I know you did. You worked so hard to get where you are. I am so proud of you for that. But you don’t get to degrade what I want to do with my life because it barely pays the bills,” 

Luke got his gaze low as he tilted his head to the side. Their eyes connected and Luke took a deep breath. “Y/N,” he let out barely above a whisper.

She took a step towards him while their eyes remained connected. “I am sorry that I implied that you didn’t deserve to be where you are. You and your brothers worked so fucking hard to get into the league. You deserve everything that is coming your way,” she rested her hand onto his chest. He looked down towards her, the corner of her lips curling upward. 

“You should go sleep at Jack’s tonight,” she finished as she walked past him towards the kitchen. She took a bowl of the half eaten cereal and began draining the milk into the sink.

“What?” he let out harshly as he spun on his heel watching her movements. 

She lifted her gaze resting the bowl onto the counter, their eyes connected again. “I never thought that you would belittle my future plans by saying such a thing. So I do not want you here tonight,” she explained through a teary expression. 

“I wasn’t–”

“You haven’t apologized for a single thing that you have said in the last–half an hour. Which tells me that you don’t see a single thing wrong with what you’ve said or done. So please, pack a bag and go stay at Jack’s.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to stay at–”

“Your old bedroom still has a mattress, right?” she asked as she dumped the cereal into the trash before she placed it into the sink. 

“Y/N,” 

“Go use it, Luke,” she said as a sob rose in her throat. 

“Y/N, please,” he let out as he walked towards her. 

“I never thought that you would say anything like that to me. So please, I do not want you here tonight,” she let out as their eyes remained connected. She sniffled another sob as she walked towards their bathroom. 

Luke stood in front of the kitchen island as he watched her walk away from him. He tilted his gaze towards the ceiling. He squinted his eyes harshly as he ran his hand across his eyes. He shook his head as he stared towards the hallway that she walked through. So much for being the perfect couple that never argues.

[acid-ixx]

They aren't finished but I wanted to give you these! They're all WIPS so so far. Some are a bit older and you can tell what the newer ones are that I just made right now.

Thank you for posting a new chapter. It was an amazing read and I just loved it so much! Still trying to find those song references 😂

chapter spoilers and drafts (again &. again)

— masterlist ! ; chapter 4 ; ash's commisions

OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A BLESSING??? BANGER AFTER BANGER AFTER BANGER I SWEAR 💞

ash, you have always provided my little fanbase for my series so much food for thought, this is absolutely beautiful in every way. i literally don't care if they're wips or unfinished because either way you always make do with what i write, descriptive or not. i love your artstyle and how soft you draw the mc and how handsome conner is (i literally showed your art off to all my friends). you're so talented and i wish to reciprocate all the efforts you've done for this series 😭

i'm serious. from your portrayal of the mc, to them flying with conner, you never once disappoint anyone.

because of this, i'd like to leak some parts of my story from chapter five and beyond 💕! thank you so much for this, and i hope my yapping below suffices.

major spoilers below the cut!

the graduation photo! i have something planned with that, and i'd delve so much deeper (soon) with just how much a single photo can influence bruce's line of thought once he discovers that picture frame. love how happy mc is in the photo because, for me, it symbolizes them growing up (quite literally) and acknowledging a new path in life, alongside only finding alfred as their only father figure compared to bruce.

you consider yourself reserved, and prefer your life living within the confines of privacy and protection from media exposure. your mother always told you: better safe than sorry once; right after you've asked her about why you can't seem to find personal information about your father when she helped you search him up occasionally.

all the questions you ask her about the lack of your father's preferences — because you merely wanted to know more about him beyond the stories she told you! — she rebutted with a soft smile, a kiss on your head, and an explanation.

she'd warn you about the dangers of media exposure, about how your father and her prefer to keep their relationship a secret, and how too much cameras and paparazzi flashes can blind you.

she said that someone's perception of another person could be ruined once their deepest secrets are revealed. that's why your papa isn't seen beyond the doors of the manor he resides in; because people are attracted to mystery and allure.

hence why she'd restricted you from the usage of any devices within your household during your childhood, other than the excuse of having no money to afford it.

and you always abide by that principle of secrecy; especially right after alfred had saved you from... whatever happened years ago in elementary. from when that man... no, those men knew about your identity...

so, safe to say you were an introvert, at least when it comes to social media. the concept of the fear of missing out never once rattled your brain, no matter how anxious you are whenever you're with your friends; scared that you wouldn't fit in. but they never cared and accepted you with open arms, so it doesn't really matter, no?

you're safe now that you're at metropolis.

and like she always said, better safe than sorry! keep it within you and never out!

so why?

why is it just right after you've opened your twitter app— why is it that your face is plastered all across news accounts?

anyways, the second and third images are so romantic!!! and cute, and cured my depression i swear. i showed this to my one friend and she told me that conner's hand size compared to mc's is straight up hot, and i agree! i love the hand placement, and the way conner holds the mc so softly! yes, i too, would love to touch his man-tits beyond his impeccably tight shirt and play with his hands!

and the cute little panel with him squishing their face and desire their confirmation that, they do, in fact, think they're hot. he's a very insecure man after all, and his self-worth would revolve around your perception of him. he doesn't see you as god, but he doesnt see you as his everything. every opinion matters from you, and that's what makes the green flag part about him.

fun fact about him in the series! he loves to moisturize his hands with lots of skin care products because he read from an article once that some people prefer the feel of soft or moisturized hands. he definitely did not wait for the moment for you to touch him for the first time in forever since he first saw you! yeah, he's a bit more freaky than i let him out to be. the more you're exposed to him, the more you'll learn just how obsessed he is.

as for all the people asking if i'd write more about him: the answer is yes! he's a vital character, so don't worry because he'll appear in many scenes either way. for those concerned about why he didn't save the mc— well, chapter five will explain soon 🩷

and this art perfectly portrays it! it's seen from an outside perspective and they look very pretty, yet from what they see with their eyes is a different thing. the longer you stare at yourself, the more your image is distorted. i intentionally added the flower analogy because flowers are portrayed as pretty, no matter the size and shape. even as they wilt or sag, they still retain some color and a semblance of what was once a history of their prime.

then lastly! the mirror scene. it all returns to chapter three, chapter four was a sequel of their breakdown containing mirrors. reflections and the perception of one self is an important aspect of my series because it reminds me of myself, so them nit-picking each and every insecurity whilst staring at the mirror; that's a scene i wrote based off of a real life experience of mine. having both attractive parents, or those acknowledged as conventionally pretty, whilst being in an environment filled with as equally smart or attractive people, comparing yourself to them all the time, is a struggle.

the only way to make flowers 'ugly' is by destroying them, by stepping on them, ripping them apart, never once caring for them. i think that's very crucial because people do see anything destroyed or stripped away from its foundation a mess, or so. but there's always beauty in everything and i abide by that thought!

again, thank you so much ash for drawing this and bringing my story to life! you, alongside many other users who send in their fanarts, are always such an inspiration for me to write! you guys are the backbone of my series and i stand by my sentence!!! may you get plenty of commissions and plenty of money to support you <333

also, the FLOWER BOTTLE AND THE CAT PAW REFERENCE! i love how everyone accepts that we have a canon cat now based solely off of this. i think that's precious, and having a feline pet is a great little choice for my own plot (just to lessen the pain of the angst).

i hope you enjoyed this little mess rant!

(as for the songs, don't worry, the lyrics become more prevalent for chapter five! chapter four doesn't have any explicit lyrics contained in them, only implications.)

[fordiaz]

What We Hold (Evan Buckley) ˚˖° ୭🎐˚｡ ꒷

“You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had. And the most real person I know.” ˚ ༘ 🦕

Synopsis: You’ve come a long way from the girl your parents tried to mold. LA gave you a second chance, and the 118 gave you a reason to stay. But when your estranged parents return, suddenly everything you’ve fought for — your healing, your self-worth — starts slipping through your fingers. And Buck, who knows what it's like to be made to feel like you’re never enough, refuses to let you spiral alone.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

AU: None

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Paramedic!Afab!Reader

Warnings: Emotionally unavailable parents, mentions of familial and childhood trauma, body image issues.

Note: This is based on an actual realization I had with my own parents, because they always try to mold me into someone I’m not. If you’re going through something similar, please know that your self worth is not tied to these people and their opinions do not matter. Lots of hugs! Don’t forget to like + reblog as well because they are very much appreciated.

You were never enough — not for the parents who raised you, not for the version of success they carved out long before you had a say.

They wanted you in a white coat or behind a desk in a pristine office with your name etched in gold on the door.

Doctor. CEO.

Something to brag about at parties, something that didn’t involve dirt-stained boots or adrenaline-fueled sirens screaming through the city.

But that was never you.

You were the one who ran headfirst into chaos, hands steady, heart louder than logic.

You were the paramedic on the front lines — saving people, stitching lives back together in the middle of a street, on the floor of someone’s living room, beneath flickering streetlamps at 3AM. You were the kind of woman who found herself in the mess, not behind a polished title.

And when you weren’t holding someone’s pulse in your palm, you were sketching out the day on the back of call sheets, painting the quiet between shifts, listening to music the way some people listened for meaning.

Your mother never liked that either.

“You’re hiding behind your hobbies,” she used to say. “You could be someone if you just tried harder. You look like someone.”

She always said that like it was a curse — like beauty meant you owed the world something performative. Like being seen was more important than being whole.

But you had built yourself up — brick by stubborn brick — from the ache of being overlooked. And in the firehouse, with the roar of engines and the quiet camaraderie of those who understood, you had finally found peace.

Especially in him.

Buck wasn’t just a fellow firefighter.

He was your calm in the storm. He was the one who didn’t flinch when you unraveled, the one who saw past the version of you shaped by pressure and criticism. He never tried to change you — only reminded you of who you already were.

The girl your parents tried to remake… she didn’t survive the shift.

But the woman standing in her place? She carried trauma, yes — but she also carried purpose. Family. The kind that came with turnout coats, inside jokes, and a seat saved at the station table.

And most days, that was more than enough.

Until they came back.

The sun hadn’t fully broken over Los Angeles yet, but the city was already humming — slow and sleepy in some corners, chaotic in others.

Buck had his usual iced coffee in one hand, his keys in the other, and your favorite breakfast sandwich tucked into a brown bag he pretended not to make a big deal about.

You teased him for it every time, but the way he shrugged and smiled like it was second nature made it harder and harder not to fall for him again each morning.

“You still deny I’m your favorite,” he grinned, handing you the bag as you slid into the passenger seat of his truck.

“You’re not my favorite,” you said, already biting into the sandwich. “You just bring good food.”

Buck smirked. “That’s basically the same thing.”

It had been a slow, quiet thing between the two of you. Not the blazing, dramatic romance people wrote songs about — but something softer.

Healed.

It came after the long nights, after the therapy sessions, after the breakdowns and the breakthrough that came after.

You weren’t looking to be rescued anymore. Neither was he.

Instead, you’d built something steady — like muscle memory, like breath.

You woke up, met him outside of your apartment, showed up to work, made fun of each other in the locker room, rolled your eyes when Hen caught you smiling too wide.

It was comfort. It was ease.

And lately, it felt like the kind of thing you could build a life around.

At the station, the team had already claimed their seats in the kitchen — Hen nursing her coffee like a lifeline, Chim flipping through a magazine he probably had no intention of reading, Eddie snorting at something Ravi said under his breath, and Buck sliding into the seat beside you.

“You gonna eat both of those pieces or are you feeling generous today?”

“Generous, with you? Never,” you shot back, pushing your half-finished plate toward him anyway. He beamed like you’d just handed him gold.

Bobby walked in mid-laugh, muttering something about the last shift’s messy truck logs, before giving you both a nod.

You felt a flicker of gratitude settle under your ribs — like maybe this was your real beginning. Like the ghosts from your childhood didn’t have a place at this table anymore.

Then your phone buzzed.

It was a simple vibration at first. One you ignored.

Then another.

Then a third.

You reached into your hoodie pocket without thinking, glancing at the screen as Buck leaned over to grab the creamer behind you.

Mom.

Dad.

No message. Just the names lighting up your screen in tandem, like they were waiting to be let in again.

You froze for a second too long.

“You okay?” Buck asked, catching the shift in your posture.

You nodded quickly, sliding the phone screen-down onto the table. “Yeah. Just spam.”

“Spam with your last name?” Hen raised a brow, sipping her coffee. You shot her a subtle glare that only made her grin.

Buck didn't press, but his eyes lingered a second longer than usual, quietly clocking the change in your mood.

You forced yourself to laugh along with the team as Chim started mocking something Ravi said, but your head was miles away.

You hadn’t seen your parents in a little over a year and a half. Not since the last screaming match that ended in a slammed door and a one way plane ticket back to LA without looking back.

They’d always wanted you to be someone else — and for a long time, you thought if you just tried hard enough, you'd become that person. But you had come a long way since then.

You weren’t a project anymore. You weren’t unfinished.

You were someone now.

And yet, all it took was one notification to make your stomach twist like you were seventeen and living under their roof again.

Buck gently nudged your knee under the table.

“You sure you’re good?”

You looked at him — really looked — and for a moment, you wanted to tell him everything.

How scared you were to open that message. How tired you were of being molded into someone else’s dream. How the life you had now felt fragile suddenly, like it could be taken away the second you let the past back in.

But the moment passed.

“Yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

Buck watched you carefully, like he didn’t believe you — but also didn’t want to push you before you were ready. Instead, he smiled softly and handed you the last bite of your sandwich.

“Well, wake up. You’ve got another twelve hours with my charming self.”

You laughed — because it was easier than crying — and took the food from his hand.

“Lucky me.”

But in the back of your mind, the messages waited.

And you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d have to decide whether to open the door… or finally close it for good.

The call wasn’t heavy, not in the way that stuck to your skin for days. A minor traffic collision, a few broken bones, a scared kid who wouldn’t stop clinging to Chimney until his mom arrived.

It was the kind of run that made your heart squeeze in a different way — the kind that reminded you of everything fragile about the world.

You were quiet on the way back. Buck noticed.

You knew he did because his eyes found you in the rearview mirror more than once, flickering between the road and the crease between your brows.

Back at the firehouse, everyone scattered.

Hen went to check inventory in the rig, her clipboard in hand and a pencil tucked behind her ear. Eddie was helping Ravi clean out the squad, their laughter drifting faintly through the open bay doors.

Bobby had vanished into his office, probably knee-deep in the usual mountain of paperwork. Chim was in the kitchen, half-singing under his breath as he prepped dinner for the shift.

And Buck?

Buck waited.

He always waited — not in a way that hovered, but in a way that reminded you he’d be there when you were ready.

“Wanna go up?” he asked gently, nudging your elbow.

You didn’t need to ask what he meant.

The rooftop had become your shared place. A quiet, liminal space above the chaos — where the world slowed down just long enough for you both to breathe.

You nodded.

The city stretched around you, a sea of lights blinking to life against the late afternoon haze. Traffic buzzed below like static, and the sky was turning the soft kind of orange that only LA could pull off.

You sat beside Buck, your shoulders brushing, your knees tucked to your chest. For a while, neither of you spoke.

You just leaned into his side, and he draped an arm around you with practiced ease, his hand rubbing small, absent-minded circles into your back.

“I promised,” you finally murmured.

Buck tilted his head, watching you from the corner of his eye.

“Promised what?”

“No secrets. That I’d talk to you.” You swallowed thickly, staring at your fingers. “They texted again. My parents.”

His hand stilled on your back.

You didn’t look at him yet. You weren’t ready for the weight of that gaze.

“They… they’re here. In LA.”

Buck stayed quiet, which somehow gave you the space to keep going.

“I thought they were just passing through. I didn’t want to make it a big deal. I told myself I’d just ignore it. But then they sent this message and said they wanted to talk. That they’d been thinking about me. About everything.”

You laughed — a short, bitter sound.

“And part of me wants to believe it. That maybe people really can change. I mean… look at you. Look at Maddie. Even your parents. They’re trying. The Hans too. And it made me think — if they can change, why can’t mine?”

Buck’s arm pulled you a little closer, his voice quiet.

“Because yours hurt you. Not just once. Not just in passing. But over and over again.”

You turned your face into his chest, the soft fabric of his hoodie muffling your thoughts.

“They hated who I was,” you said.

“Not just what I did — not being a paramedic, not choosing a job where I get to help people every day — but who I was. I liked art. I liked movement. I liked not needing their permission to be myself. And they said it made me selfish. Undisciplined. Unlovable.”

Buck’s hand cradled the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently at your temple.

“You’re not any of those things,” he whispered.

“You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had. And the most real person I know.”

You breathed in, grounding yourself in his scent — laundry detergent and smoke and something unshakably him.

“But it still hurts,” you admitted.

“Even after all this time. Even when I tell myself I’ve built a life. That I’m good. That I’m okay now. All it took was one message and suddenly I feel like I’m fifteen again and nothing I do will ever be enough.”

Buck exhaled slowly, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

“You’ve come too far to let them take that from you.”

“But what if they really mean it this time?” you whispered.

“What if they want to make amends? What if I don’t even give them the chance?”

Buck didn’t answer right away. He waited, thoughtful, like he was measuring his words carefully.

“I used to think that too,” he said.

“When I went back to my parents’ house that time… I wanted so badly for it to be different. I wanted them to see me. The version of me I worked so damn hard to become. But the thing is — it’s not about them. It never was.”

You looked up at him slowly, heart pounding in your chest.

“It’s about what you need to feel safe. To feel whole,” he continued. “And you already built that. You don’t need to let them back in to prove you’re healed.”

He brushed your hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering on your jaw.

“But if you do let them back in… do it for you. Not because they suddenly remembered how to be parents.”

That cracked something open in you.

For the first time in hours, you let the tears fall — quiet, cathartic, and honest. Buck didn’t flinch. He just held you tighter, kissed your forehead, and waited with you on that rooftop like he always did.

And in that moment, you knew something with perfect clarity:

You weren’t a teenager anymore.

You weren’t trying to earn love from people who only ever saw you as a reflection of their own regrets.

You had a home now — not in a place, but in people.

In Buck. In Hen. In Bobby. In Chim. In Ravi. In Eddie. In the family you chose at the 118.

And maybe — just maybe — that was more than enough.

At first, it was fine. Or at least, it looked fine.

The meeting with your parents was held in a neutral place — some polished brunch spot on the West Side with cold-pressed juices and overpriced eggs.

They hugged you like they meant it. They said they missed you. They even asked about your job, your friends, your life.

You let yourself hope. Just a little.

But it didn’t take long for the cracks to show.

“You look tired,” your mom said, peering across the table. “Are you still not using concealer?”

A laugh followed, as if she’d just made a joke. You forced a smile.

Later, your dad — swirling his coffee absentmindedly — asked, “So… are you really planning to stay a paramedic forever?”

Your heart dropped like a stone.

“Not that we don’t respect what you do,” he added quickly, as if softening the blow.

“It’s just… there’s more out there. You’re smart. You could still go back to school. Do something that really stretches you.”

You gripped your fork too tight.

“I like what I do,” you answered, steady and restrained. “I help people. Every single day.”

They didn’t argue. But their silence screamed louder than words.

That was the beginning.

The comments didn’t stop. They just evolved — small, needling remarks that made you second-guess the things you’d worked so hard to reclaim.

“You know, if you just dressed a little differently, you'd look even more put together.”

“This haircut is cute, but the last one made your face look slimmer.”

“I still think you’d do well in PR — you’ve always had a nice smile.”

They cloaked it all in faux concern, under the guise of caring. But what they were really doing was trying to remake you into something they could understand.

Someone more acceptable. More palatable. Less you.

You thought you could handle it.

You thought — after everything you’d survived, after years of therapy, after finding love and home in the 118 — that you were immune to their power.

But you weren’t.

Not entirely.

You didn’t tell anyone. Not even Buck.

You kept coming into work with a smile on your face, your uniform pressed, your voice steady. You carried your gear like it weighed nothing, even when your shoulders ached from the stress you weren’t admitting.

But the little things gave you away.

You started zoning out during debriefs — just for a second or two — like your mind had floated somewhere else.

Somewhere darker.

You’d stopped lingering at mirrors in the locker room, dressing quickly, avoiding the impulse to check your reflection.

Even compliments from Hen or Chim started to land wrong — twisting into something warped by the things your parents had said.

And worst of all: you skipped breakfast. Sometimes lunch, too.

You didn’t mean to. You just weren’t hungry. Or maybe you just didn’t want to hear that quiet voice in your head — your mother’s — telling you to be careful about portion sizes.

Buck noticed.

Of course he did.

He noticed how your uniform hung differently. How your laugh didn’t reach your eyes. How you hadn’t touched your smoothie after a call and shrugged it off with “I’m just tired.”

He watched you push food around your plate at dinner. Watched you duck out of team photos when Bobby tried to snap one for the wall. Watched you smile through gritted teeth like your jaw was wired shut.

And Buck — for all his light and warmth — knew darkness when he saw it.

One night, after a long shift, he waited until everyone had gone. You were packing your things in the locker room when he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, face unreadable.

“You ever gonna tell me what’s really going on?”

You froze.

“Because I know you,” he continued softly. “And you’re slipping.”

You turned around slowly, blinking too fast.

“I’m fine, Buck.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, moving toward you.

“You haven’t been fine for weeks. You barely eat, you’re constantly somewhere else in your head, and you flinch when anyone compliments you. That’s not you. That’s not the you I know.”

You swallowed hard, looking at the floor.

“I didn’t want to make it real,” you admitted. “I thought… if I didn’t talk about it, it wouldn’t stick.”

Buck’s hands found your shoulders, gentle and grounding.

“Talk to me. Please.”

And that was when the dam broke.

You told him everything — about the comments, the small jabs, the way your parents had managed to reopen wounds you thought were healed.

You told him about the fear creeping in, how you’d started second-guessing the body you’d learned to love, the career you were proud of, the face you saw in the mirror.

“I fought so hard to feel okay again,” you whispered. “And now I feel like I’m back at square one.”

Buck shook his head and pulled you into his arms, cradling your head against his chest like he could shield you from it all.

“You’re not back at square one,” he said.

“You’re not that person anymore. You’re stronger now. But even strong people break a little when the right people push the wrong buttons.”

You let yourself sink into him, into the warmth, into the truth of his words.

“They don’t get to take this from you,” Buck said, voice low.

“Not your peace. Not your joy. Not the life you built for yourself. Because you built it with your own hands. You didn’t wait for anyone’s permission — not theirs, not mine, not anyone’s.”

You nodded into his chest, your tears soaking the fabric.

And he held you, quietly and completely, until the shaking stopped.

From up here, at the firehouse rooftop, the hum of L.A. traffic was just white noise — distant, forgettable.

You were wrapped in Buck’s arms, your head resting against his chest, his hoodie warm against your cheek.

The call earlier had shaken you a bit — not because of the trauma or the chaos, but because you'd caught your own reflection in the fire truck window, and for a second, all you saw was her.

Your mother’s voice echoing in your ears: you’d look so much prettier if you just fixed your posture.

You thought maybe saying it out loud would break the spell. So you did.

And Buck just… listened.

Now, he shifted, his hand gently stroking your back, voice low and steady.

“You know,” he began, “I spent a long time trying to be what my parents needed.”

You blinked up at him, and he was staring out at the skyline — not avoiding you, just thinking. Peeling open old scars.

“I was the ‘fix-it’ kid. If something was wrong, I’d jump in. Be the distraction, the helper, the good one.” He let out a short, mirthless laugh.

“Didn’t matter how much I gave. It was never enough.”

You watched him carefully, feeling your chest ache for the boy he once was.

“They didn’t see me, not really. Not until Maddie left, and even then… it was like I only existed through what I could do for them. Not who I actually was.”

His voice softened, eyes flicking back to yours.

“You’re not alone in this.”

Tears threatened again, but you bit them back.

“I thought they changed,” you whispered. “I thought maybe… maybe if I let them in, they’d see me now — the real me. Not the one they wanted me to be.”

Buck nodded.

“That hope? I know it too well. But Y/N… healing isn’t about letting the people who broke you walk back in just because they might be better now.”

He took your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

“You don’t owe them another piece of yourself. Not after everything you’ve done to become you.”

You looked at him, really looked — and saw not just the man who loved you, but the one who had clawed his way out of the same kind of shadow.

“The 118 — Hen, Chim, Bobby, Eddie… they see you,” he continued. “They respect you. They love you. Hell, I love you.”

You let out a shaky breath, and Buck cupped your cheek with his free hand.

“You built a life from the ground up. You stood in fire and didn’t flinch. If your parents can’t see that? That’s not on you.”

Silence settled around you again, the kind that didn’t need filling.

And for the first time in weeks, your shoulders relaxed.

Because Buck was right.

Your family wasn’t something you were born into. It was something you chose.

And the 118 — this loud, messy, brave, wonderful crew — had chosen you back.

Every single time.

It was their last night in L.A.

You sat across the dinner table from your parents in a sleek West Hollywood restaurant — the kind they would’ve approved of, with overpriced salads and polished silverware.

You’d even worn something nice, soft makeup, hair tucked back just the way your mother always said looked “less messy.”

And yet, nothing you did ever seemed to be enough.

They were smiling — that brittle, curated smile they wore in public. They made small talk about your “little job” and asked again if you'd considered going back to school, becoming a doctor like you “originally said you would” when you were fifteen.

You tried to laugh it off, to steer the conversation away.

But then came the line.

Your mother, wine glass in hand, leaned across the table with a too-sweet smile and said,

“You’re too beautiful to hide behind that uniform forever, sweetheart. You could be something more — if you just tried.”

That was the final crack.

Your chest tightened, your fingers clenched around your water glass, and all the work — all the healing, the therapy, the hours at Station 118 saving lives and rebuilding your confidence — it all teetered on a ledge.

“Do you even hear yourselves?” you said, quietly at first.

Your father looked up, startled. Your mother blinked, taken aback.

“I’ve been doing everything I can to build a life — my life — and all you see is who I’m not.”

Your voice wavered, but you didn’t stop.

“You wanted me to be a doctor. Or a businesswoman. You hated that I loved art, that I found purpose in helping people. You hated the way I looked, dressed, existed. And now, you come to L.A. for three days and want to shape me all over again?”

Silence fell over the table.

“I’m not going to dinner with you again,” you said.

“This… is the last one.”

Your mother’s mouth opened to object, but you were already rising to your feet, grabbing your coat.

“I have a family. A real one. One that sees me. I’m not throwing that away just to be palatable to you.”

And then you called an Uber, knowing your parents would take your car anyway because that’s how much they disrespected you.

You didn’t cry until you reached Buck’s apartment.

He didn’t ask any questions. He just opened the door, took one look at your face, and pulled you into his arms.

You sobbed into his hoodie, fists clinging to the fabric, your knees nearly buckling with the weight of years of resentment and grief. He held you through it — no words, no pressure.

Just presence. Just Buck. Your Buck.

Eventually, you ended up outside — sitting in the back of his jeep at the beach, wrapped in one of his flannel shirts, your head leaning on his shoulder as the night breeze swept around you.

Your voice was hoarse when you finally spoke.

“I’ve spent so long trying to be who they wanted. I didn’t realize I’ve already become someone I’m proud of.”

Buck turned his head toward you, his fingers lacing with yours.

“I’ve always been proud of you,” he said, with that soft kind of certainty only Buck had when it really mattered.

“Even when you didn’t see it. Even when you were still hiding parts of yourself.”

You sniffled, leaning into him more.

“They were supposed to love me unconditionally.”

“They didn’t,” Buck said gently. “But we do.”

The next morning at the firehouse, you told Bobby everything.

You expected a lecture, maybe a reminder to show grace — but instead, Bobby reached out and placed a steady hand on your shoulder.

“Family doesn’t come with conditions. You’re one of us. And we’re not going anywhere.”

Hen brought you coffee. Chim cracked a terrible joke that made you laugh through your puffy eyes. Eddie gave you that silent nod of solidarity he only reserved for moments that mattered. Ravi slipped you a cookie from the pantry with a wink.

And Buck?

Buck just stood beside you, hand in yours.

No longer your anchor.

Now your entire world.

© fordiaz 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[peanutpinet]

Hello I have a request for a sylus x reader female.

Can the request be along the lines of how the reader is sleep deprived from working, and she is scared of thunderstorms and during one night there is a storm and that’s one more day she won’t get sleep. Mephesto sees her being sleepless and reports back to sylus, and sylus arranges Luke and kerian to pick her up and bring her to his house?

You can choose how the rest plays out, but some cuddling and head rubs would also be nice to include:)

Thank you

Anchor - Sylus x Non!Mc Fem Reader

Disclaimer: This work is completely fiction. I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

A/N: Hi love, thank you for requesting!! This sounds so adorable and as someone who hasn’t been able to sleep well the past few days, I too definitely needed this. Sending hugs to everyone who has been feeling down or tired

Sylus’ POV (tis a first time I’m writing from Sylus’ POV but lessgo)

“I expect the shipments to arrive within the next 24hrs or I’ll ship you in pieces back. Understood, Turner?” I stated, twirling my glass of wine, waiting for Turner to answer me

Once he finally gave a scared nod, I brushed him off and he immediately scrambled out the door. Right as the door was closed and I was left alone in the meeting room, thunderstorm started to erupt following the rainstorm in the N109 zone.

The clock strikes midnight and I can’t help but wonder if she was back at her apartment. The last thing she texted me was she was grabbing dinner with a friend and that was at 7pm.

“Where are you, sweetie?”

Not long, I receive a video from Mephisto. I hooked up the recordings I receive from him onto my computer and there she was under the covers on her bed, seemingly shivering. The rain and thunderstorm were much worse in her area and it made me worried.

Along with her shivering body, Mephisto spotted lots of takeouts, coffees, paperwork sprawled across her desk. Was she overworking herself? Had she even gotten a proper meal and rest?

I quickly dialed a number. “Luke, Kieran”

“Yes boss? Reporting live right now. That Turner guy you told us to spy on is doing his job. He’s getting the new big guns ready to be shipped. They look pretty good boss. Can we have a demo…”

I didn’t let the twins finish their ramble and snapped them back to reality. “Change of plans. I need you two to bring someone to me. I’m going to get the base ready for her arrival”

It only took the twins a few seconds to know who I was talking about because they immediately sounded happy and giddy.

“Right away boss. You got it. Should we bring snacks along the way? We should definitely bring snacks” the twins rambled on again

“Just make sure she’s okay. Don’t ask her anything. Just entertain her in your peculiar ways…” I mentioned and the twins reassured me, turning off the call

Immediately, I prepared the room with some of the plushies she left the last time she stayed over. I took out the extra blanket she once bought then prepared the diffuser with her favorite calming scent before heading to the kitchen and prepared some of her comfort meals.

It only took 20 minutes for the twins to come back as I heard the front door open followed by a soft tired call for my name. “Sylus?”

Hearing her voice sound so tired and broken tugged something in me and I placed the last of the food I made on the dining room before making my way to see her.

When her figure was in my sight, I saw her wearing her oversized sweater and sweatpants followed by a short blanket wrapped around her, making her look smaller than she already is.

I didn’t notice it but my steps got faster and I engulfed her in my arms, allowing her to just slump her whole body on me. “It’s alright sweetie. Take it easy, yeah?” I stroke her smaller back as she let out a sigh

We stayed in this position for a while until I heard her stomach grumbling a bit. “You must be hungry. Let’s get you something to eat yeah? I prepared your favorites. Something light. I promise”

She didn’t complain as I practically carried her to the dining area and set her down onto the chair while I sat next to her.

“You made pumpkin soup for me?” she asked in a small trembling voice

I stroke her hair while I use my evol to bring a tray of freshly baked focaccia into her sight. “And fresh bread for you to dip into your soup. Go on sweetie, have a sip”

She nodded and took a spoonful of soup and drank it. “It taste exactly like the one we drank in that restaurant you brought me”

I smiled as I ripped the fresh bread and dipped it into the soup, feeding it to her. “Perhaps because I may or may not have paid a bit to ask for the recipe. I know you like the soup and it warms you up”

I feed her while also stroking her back but the moment the thunderstorm erupts again, she jumped and clinged to me. I immediately wrapped my arm around her, gently stroking her hair. “It’s okay sweetie. I’m here. You’re safe, yeah? Just lean on me, listen to my heartbeat. You’re okay”

She stayed silent, drawing some circles on my sweater. “It was a rough week” she mumbles but I didn’t cut her off, I kept stroking her hair and let her continue. “I had to work overtime almost everyday. I don’t even remember the last time I had a proper meal”

I stopped my stroking and gently held her cheek, softly making her face me. “Come to me next time you feel overwhelmed. I didn’t have Mephisto watch your every move because I value your privacy. But if this happens again, I may have to have Mephisto watch over you closely next time”

Instead of complaining, she actually chuckled and snuggled further into my chest. “Thank you Sy”

Hearing her thank me made me smile as I hugged her close. “No need to thank me sweetie. I’d do anything for you. I won’t allow you to drown yourself in sorrow alone. When you feel stuck and have nowhere to go, always come to me sweetie. I’ll be your anchor to support you, care for you, love you even when you feel like you don’t deserve it. I’ll remind you” I kissed her temple. “Every day if I have to, sweetie” I kissed her cheeks. “That you deserve everything and more” I softly kissed her jaw. “That you’ll never be alone for as long as I’m here, with you”

I gently held her face and lift them before leaning down to meet her lips, our nose brushing against one another as I softly connect my lips with hers, caressing her cheeks I felt tears streaming down; making me deepen the kiss while wiping her tears before slowly releasing my lips from hers.

“Cry for as long as you want, I would never judge you. But once you’re done crying, I hope you’ll allow me to indulge you and bring a smile to your face again” I softly caressed her cheek with my knuckle but instead she opened my hand and leaned her face into it, making me smile as I pulled her close

A/N: I know this was very short but I hope that it at least brings some comfort to whoever reads this :') wishing everyone good health and take care!! xoxo peanutpinet

[porcelainbirdss]

the sweetest

summary: when someone told you that being in love doesn’t necessarily mean loving, you couldn’t believe the absurdity of that statement. as life went on, the truth of those words would continue to weight heavily over your head.

cw: fem!reader, both mydei and reader are equally disturbed individuals, toxic relationships, codependency, angst, hurt with the littlest of comfort, soulties/soulmates au || wc: 10k

the food on your plate seemed especially unappealing today. on the other hand, was it ever? perhaps when you first stepped into Okhema, completely enamored by the culture. yes, you could remember it clearly - the way it would melt on your tongue, flavors mixing with fresh air you’d breathe in everyday on the high balcony. meat and fruits, expensive wine you spent way too much money on. you’d chuckle to yourself as you dipped the slices of cheese in honey, thinking about how lucky you were to reside in the holy city. the state of unawareness you possessed only made everything more blissful.

right now the dinner was nothing but dry - with the first bite, you genuinely thought you would choke. it tasted the same way his name felt on your lips. Mydeimos. the man that decided to test your patience, will and mental strength everyday. you didn’t like the thought, but did he bring anything other than misery into your life? at first you didn’t want to perceive the relationship you both shared as something inherently bad — as time went on, it turned out near impossible. venom seemed to be laced through his words, and you knew that it seeped from your mouth too. sometimes you liked to imagine him as the wrong one - however, with the way things stood, you were equal in your spite. you could stop the chain of events and run somewhere else, to another city. looking back, it was the best option you had, and yet still declined to take. rope bound your hands to his, and you would tug on it relentlessly. in the back of your mind, the image of Mydei finally stumbling over, and letting go replayed constantly. but if it ever came to that, would you be satisfied? happy?

the answer was simple, but dreadful all the same - no.

as you took another bite of your meal, the image of your late mother flashed. perhaps she was the root of all your suffering? the damned prophecy she revealed to you when you were younger, of a boy with golden hair dipped in blood, who one day would bask in glory.

"you see, my dear [name], all of humanity has their other half, hidden somewhere. not everyone is destined to meet them, but you will. i’m sure of that."

(the way she smiled at you with so much glee in her eyes was disgusting).

"but mom, how do you know?"

(you wish you never asked this question).

"i have my ways," she chuckled, swiping the mischievous hair behind your ear, "see that mark on your wrist? look for someone with the same one. it means you both are meant to be."

you glanced at the singular line that stretched from the knuckles up to your wrist, and thought it looked more like a scar than anything else. you have seen other people with similar marks - but they were always more intricate. veins of ivy embedding an arm, or stars splattered in a specific pattern. yours wasn’t like that.

"ugh… that will be so hard to spot on someone! do you at least know how that person looks?"

the woman seemed to take a second of contemplation. "well, it was revealed to me in a vague way. but i can tell you, if you want to."

"yes, please!" you giggled as you jumped up all thrilled, tugging at the long sleeve of her dress. to your younger self, there was nothing more exciting than finally meeting the person you were 'tied' to. your soulmate.

"alright then,” your mother nodded, giving your head an affectionate ruffle, "his hair is blonde. it’s a very beautiful color, mixed with red. those eyes… striking to the bone. a born leader, i’m sure."

at that, you hummed in deep acknowledgment as you tried to imagine the boy. for some reason, nothing concrete came to you. still, it wasn’t like you were unsatisfied - maybe you had a different picture in mind, but that person was destined to you nevertheless! as you kept on brooding, one of your friends suddenly called out to you. immediately distracted, you followed after the beckoning girl to play in the fields.

how you wished it ended at that. your past self forgot, and kept on frolicking in the lush meadows with your old friends forever. your mother never passed, and you pursued your physician studies at home. the soulmate you dreamt of meeting got left behind as nothing but a mere, blurry visualization. but here you were, sitting in one of the apartments of Okhema, locked up in your room. Mydei was probably attending to some important stuff, or bickering with Phainon, like he always did. maybe they were sparring? from the sound of clashing swords outside, it was likely.

you sighed, digging the knife into the piece of meat with more force than necessary. the momentary guilt you felt from blaming your mother for the situation you created with your own hands shook you a bit. how could you? she never meant any harm. nor did you, but things turned out as they did, and who else was there to blame?

perhaps the winds that took you to the holy city.

it was unbearably hot that day. sweat covered your temples as you tried cooling down your face with a makeshift fan (which worked poorly). still, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of excitement wash over you as you took the views in. streets bustling with life, merchants yelling over each other, people laughing somewhere, and children running to their heart’s contents. the general atmosphere successfully pushed the discomfort to the back of your mind. it was only your sixth day in Okhema, yet you were already feeling as if it was the place you belonged to.

your peaceful stroll quickly came to a halt when you saw an awfully familiar silhouette standing not so far away. you didn’t know the man - it was not possible, as it was your first time seeing him. however, something about him seemed… unsettlingly different. you could recognize the blonde-red hair, so rare and distinct. you felt your heart jump - both from fear and elation, a mixture that caused you to freeze. you blinked twice, then rubbed your eyes, but the man was still there, talking to someone.

you clenched your fists as you remembered the words of your clairvoyant mother. meeting your soulmate wasn’t the objective of life you led so far, but the thought of having someone important was still dear to your heart. with new-found resolve, you took a few steps forward, wondering how you could strike up the conversation. first impression was always the most important, after all. the image of coming up to a stranger, and waving your mark before his eyes was ridiculous. what if it wasn’t him, after all? now that would’ve been awkward.

you approached the blonde, gently patting his arm.

"excuse me, sir, how do i get to the baths?" you could never go wrong with a classic. of course, you knew the way to the baths, but playing oblivious was your best option.

when he turned to face you, you felt your blood pressure rise once more. two golden hues met with yours, and at that moment, you knew your mother was right. striking. it was the only word you could use to describe them. fierce eyes filled with something your mind couldn’t quite comprehend. your gaze flickered over all of his body in search of a soulmate mark, yet you were unable to spot it. stress squeezed your guts. where was it? under his clothes? if so, then you had no real way of confirming if he was the one.

as he opened his mouth to answer you, his vision seemed to suddenly lock onto something else - your right hand. recognition seeped onto his face, and you felt brief relief before the man’s expression twisted. something was wrong. why wasn’t he happy? you were, at least that’s what you thought a few seconds ago. joy quickly morphed into an ugly feeling of distress, sitting firmly at the bottom of your stomach.

"is… is there something wrong?" you asked, furrowing your brows as the relentless sun beamed straight onto your nape. it seemed as if the heat only made the situation worse.

"i know you asked for directions, but i’d like to have a talk with you. in private." he glanced at the other man who was still standing there, "then, i can lead you to the bathhouse."

the slightly harsh tone of his voice made you wince, but you nodded, knowing that refusal wasn’t a choice you could afford to make here. the blonde excused himself, telling you to follow him somewhere secluded. you did, even though something deep within your mind was screaming at you to turn on your heel and run. at that time, you didn’t recognize it as anything other than nervousness. at least now you were aware your gut feeling was right. back then, if you decided to dismiss the man, would it all turn out differently? it is common knowledge - you meet your soulmate once, and the universe will make sure for you to never truly part ways. at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. you could have sprinted with all your might, but you’d still cross paths nevertheless. be it in a few months, maybe on your deathbed. there was no telling.

to be honest, it was much more of a complex problem. you could continue to blame all of your choices, thinking of ways you should have avoided it. the domino effect began long time ago, when your mother first got sick, and soon the delightful life you once had crumbled over your own head. all of your struggles lacked in any meaning, and the house of cards you meticulously crafted for all those years got swiped by a strong gust of wind. grief-stricken people seek resolve, and the only way of keeping your mind from the tragedy was to change your environment.

image of the man’s back as you trailed after him like some kind of a ghost was still vivid. something between his shoulder blades, located around his thoracic vertebrae caught your attention. it wasn’t easy to tell, but there it was. slightly obscured by his clothes, a singular line. that really was him. surely, the moment of meeting your soulmate didn’t go as planned, but perhaps he was more… sensitive than you? your fantasies of jumping into each other’s arms got successfully dimmed by his rather odd reaction, yet you couldn’t blame him. after all, it was so sudden, so unexpected. obviously he’ll eventually warm up to you.

after walking into an alleyway, you finally stopped, almost bumping into his back. fortunately, it was much darker and cooler here, and he couldn’t see the sweat beading on your forehead. the blonde turned to face you, his expression unreadable. it wasn’t angry, nor sad, but rather cautious in a certain way.

"show me your hand.” he demanded, stretching out his palm towards you. the man was straightforward, that’s for sure. usually you’d have no problem with it, except this time it actually irked you.

"you won’t even introduce yourself?" you cocked your eyebrow, gazing up at him with a bold look. his piercing gaze made you feel as if he wanted to fix you into place, just like people do with dragonflies. securing them with pins and needles, their lifeless forms never to move again.

you managed to spot the twitch of his eye. “Mydeimos." he huffed, lips stretching into a thin line, as if he was barely stopping himself from adding unnecessary comments.

"[name]." you replied shortly, placing your hand atop his. resisting made no sense, even though you wished to spite the impossibly impatient man.

is it really your soulmate if your first thought is to make his life harder? are you truly meant to be when instead of feeling giddy and excited, you’re starting to become irritated?

a clipped breath of disbelief escaped Mydei’s lungs, his grip on your hand strengthening just for a second before he let go. "why do you look so calm? do you not have any oppositions towards a stranger dragging you off, and then showing him your mark?”

that was a fair question. you definitely were acting as if the course of action was natural, even though it wasn’t.

"my mother, she—" you began, thinking of the simplest way you could explain it to him, "when i was younger, she had a prophetic vision. specifically speaking, of my soulmate. she managed to describe you to me, and the image stuck." a heavy sigh slipped from your mouth as you got met with silence, urging you to continue. "well, of course i wasn’t sure if it was you, but once i saw your back…"

you trailed off, wondering what caused Mydei to be so deeply submerged in his thoughts. all the time he kept quiet, looking between you and your wrist, as if contemplating something.

"a-are you not happy?" you managed to force out, dreading the response he would offer. slowly, the hopes of a better life with someone by your side started to fall apart.

you should have stayed in your hometown. why didn’t you?

(grief-stricken people seek resolve).

why do they seek resolve?

(because they have nothing—)

"no." Mydei’s curt answer cut through the air, making you jump. "i’ve no time for soulmates, or any other type of romance." he scoffed, "hmph, to think that a person would willingly put themselves through such trouble simply because of a mark on their skin."

you watched the man cross his arms over his chest, your eyebrows narrowing together. "then why didn’t you ignore me earlier? if soulmates really hold no significance to you, why’d you confirm we are tied?" you almost barked out, feeling the heat crawl back on your skin. oh no, you wouldn’t let it go simply because your soulmate is apparently also a coward.

"listen, i understand why you’re upset. my mind won’t change, though." the man’s tone got a bit darker, as if owning you at least an explanation was already too demanding. "i just wanted to set things straight with you. it is more than probable we’ll… stumble upon each other some more."

"so you don’t want me to get my hopes up, is that it?" you barely contained your anger, Mydei’s indifference only adding to the fire in your chest.

"exactly. now, do you still want me to show you the way to the baths? or was that just an excuse in order to talk to me?"

your fists clenched by your sides, and the thought of slapping him across the face appeared in your mind. fortunately (or perhaps not), you were above that.

"bastard." you hissed through your teeth, rapidly turning on your heel and walking away. damn him and that stupid stubbornness, and his hair, and eyes, and— and everything! not only did your 'soulmate' humiliate you, he seemed so stoic about the whole situation in contrast to your boiling blood — as if he didn’t care at all! and the bitter truth was, he most likely didn’t. why did your mother insist that you find him? her passing already took an unfathomable toll on you, and now her absurd death-bed wishes continued to only further your misery.

''once i’m gone, you’ll be left on your own'' she’d say, her voice trembling with fatigue, ‘'you’ll need someone to take care of you. to stand by your side, and protect from the world’s harm.'’

couldn’t you protect yourself? did she really think so lowly of you?

'’he will treat you well. i’m sure of it."

(liar).

you closed your eyes, traversing the streets at a fast pace. tears welled up behind your eyelids, and you knew it wasn’t because of how Mydeimos rejected you, but rather at the memory of your frail mom. the unwavering love still filling her gaze as coughs shook her body, careworn words urging you to find a better life. perhaps you weren’t doing it for yourself, but rather for her - for that ghostly vision of her face.

you seldom fought for anything, however now it seemed that a new resolve sparked within you. you won’t stick by your soulmate’s side, but you’ll strive. depending on anybody was no good, and that much was clear to you.

the memory of that fateful day made you cringe as you attempted to convince yourself the vegetables you were currently chewing on weren’t exactly awful in taste. they were, but you still continued to eat. wasting food wasn’t something you usually did, even if it was disgustingly bland.

three years passed since then, but all those events were still clear as a day in your mind. you remember swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t even look at Mydei’s face — turns out, Phainon found out about the correlation between you. it was long before you and Mydei started to jump at each other’s necks, so you were sure the man harbored no harm when he came up with that wicked plan of his. for whatever reason, he thought that playing a matchmaker was his call, and by some means he found out about your qualifications for a physician. the energy that emanated through your body, which took you years to master into a healing form would soon be used for a ‘greater good'.

Chrysos Heirs never exactly lacked in medical care, yet now you were hired as their personal nurse. by that, you also found out Mydei was apparently the crown prince of Kremnos. it wasn’t like you were unaware of his high status in society, but the sheer importance he carried took you by surprise. with that, something else was revealed — he couldn’t die. he was a warrior, and his body lacked in any kind of scarring. when you first heard it, you were almost relieved, as it obviously meant he wasn’t in the need of a physician.

turns out your hopeful thinking was for nothing, as your current position was only meant to get you both closer. you could as well be polishing the baths, and it wouldn’t make any difference.

it began out slow, and you don’t remember which one of you started it. you would regularly see Mydei, and share just a mere glance of acknowledgment. sometimes he’d scoff under his nose, then again you’d make a brief remark about his attitude. those small interactions were nothing but a dragged out prelude to the events that future held for you. a testament of sorts, building the fundaments of your downfall. snarky comments couldn’t sate neither of you, and soon you’d begin to argue on daily basis. soulmates are further cemented by interaction - which you were aware of, yet couldn’t stop digging your own grave. every time you talked to Mydei, you knew the mud around your ankles got denser, and soon you’d be stuck. he would be as well - at least you weren’t the only one at disadvantage here. constant fighting was draining, even for the mighty prince, and that thought never failed to make you chuckle grimly under your breath.

others took notice of the scenes you both would cause. sometimes they would end long before escalation, but more often than not Mydei was faced with flying ceramics, and you with a logorrhea of curses and damnations. the worst part is that it didn’t only affect you, but others too. even though you both had enough decorum to stop yourself from fighting in front of civilians, Aglaea would often point out how anxious Tribbie got, careworn by your constant barking and scowling. Phainon has shown genuine concern too, going as far as to scolding Mydei. needless to say, he was always getting dismissed by a wave of the uninterested man. as how things were unfolding, you had thought many times of leaving the Okhema. however, wouldn’t that equal you admitting defeat? in your soulmate’s eyes, your picture would be reduced to a cowardly nobody. for some reason, it would sting way more than his words.

"everytime you open your mouth, i am physically resisting the urge to push you off a cliff!" you seethed, shutting the cutlery drawer with an unnecessary amount of force. the knives and forks clattered inside loudly, filling the communal kitchen with an unpleasant noise.

"what makes you think you could?" Mydei snapped back, perhaps hoping to intimidate you. in answer, you cocked your head to the side, granting him with an unaffected look.

"just a guess, but you’re not very likable, are you?" you swiftly changed the topic, knowing that pushing him off a cliff was certainly impossible, and you had no arguments to back up your homicidal idea. "even your own people seem to—"

his eyebrows narrowed dangerously, clear indication you were walking on thin ice. "you’re not exactly popular around here, either." he interrupted, "you’re just a nurse, gods know from where—"

"just a nurse?!"

"—and nobody seems to take you seriously-"

"you’re foolish if you think i care about the opinion of other’s, especially yours!"

"well, maybe you should start to, because—"

"you think yourself mighty, huh? not everyone’s gonna be—"

"—i have a very good advice! pack your things, get out of Okhema, and as far—"

"—kissing your feet and worshipping the ground you walk on! unlike most people, i—"

"—as i am concerned, no one would miss you!"

"—actually have eyes and i’m capable of recognizing a cowardly bastard!"

you both kept screaming over each other, interrupting, and snarling as the packet of sugar between your fingers seemed close to ripping in half from the amount of tugging it faced. it was a conflict you could easily resolve, yet you seemed to ignore the fact. why share the sugar when you could fight for it instead?

every single one of your days in the holy city looked like that, filled with the sound of biting teeth and roars of anger. if you avoided the clashes, Mydei wouldn’t perceive you as someone worthy of recognition (and you needed to be, you had to make his life harder for the way he was treating you). if you ran, he’d laugh about it with others, saying how easy to scare off you were.

you could try to justify the reasons why you stayed, but at the end of the day, one answer resonated profoundly in the back of your mind — you wanted to prove it didn’t hurt.

"hey, would you two—"

"what?!" you yelled in unison, your necks snapping towards the innocent Phainon who stood in the doorframe of the kitchen, a bit shocked. you didn’t even notice when the sugar package torn in half, its contents pouring all over the floor.

"…keep it down." he finished with utter disappointment, his weary eyes taking in the mess you both made. "look, now because of your petty arguments the sugar is wasted."

Mydei measured you with his fierce gaze, and you did the same. the air got heavy with tension once more as you stared at each other with murderous intent, mulling over whichever insults would be the best this time. Phainon gripped the bridge of his nose with silent resignation, knowing the unavoidable screaming match was going to erupt once more.

"you clean it up!" you bursted out, pointing towards the sugar-covered tiles.

"no, you clean it up, you imbeci—!"

"why would i? i wanted the sugar first, and you started to—"

"what?! no, i put my hands on it first!"

"gods, you’re insufferable! that’s not how it—"

Phainon shook his head, closing the kitchen door with a loud thud. you paid no mind to him, way too occupied by your quarrel. even from the halls, he could still hear the distant shouting, and began to wonder how long it’ll take before someone loses their mind.

the arguments you shared varied on the scale of severity. one time they were closer to a bicker, and everyone was grateful that at least you didn’t want to kill each other. a few hours later the clamor was back on, and wouldn’t stop until you both got fed up. it mattered little whether the cause of your argument was serious, or no — you’d still put your everything into those screams. if someone told you that everyday you’d be having an altercation with the crown prince of Kremnos — be it about who gets the last sugar packet, or who is more of a pathetic-foolish-wrongdoer — you wouldn’t believe them.

it is said that soulties can make you feel emotions tenfold. sorrow, anger, joy, love. it only applied towards one’s soulmate, but could be destructive nonetheless. it can either make you more infatuated, or cause you to regret ever meeting them. you surely identified with the latter.

exactly one year passed before your relationship with Mydeimos took… a slightly off-track route.

it was pretty obvious that you and him were at your wits ends, and bearing any more of that would lead you both astray. each day, you prayed to whoever was willing to listen, begging for this nightmarish charade to finally end. countless days spent on either bawling your eyes out, or tearing your throat as you screamed in frustration were making you more than exhausted. wicked satisfaction coming from making Mydei’s existence harder was meek, and the constant headaches drove you up the wall. you felt trapped — perhaps you truly were. dark shadows hanging low under the man’s eyes were a clear indication he felt the same. still, no matter how much you tried to stay separated, the nature of soulmates was unavoidable. a bond, no matter how dire, once created wouldn’t be able to break. it could only progress further, and when you realized that you were practically attached by the hip, your heart sank low. did you really have no way of breaking free in this dystopian world? nowadays, even your own thoughts seemed to betray you. whenever you crossed the line with Mydei and said too much, guilt would follow you around like a stray dog. a dog from what? the nether, most likely. a vicious, snarling hound, gnawing at your bones, only to lick the marrow with apology in its bottomless eyes.

a tug of war. that’s the best way you could describe it.

as always, the sun hung high on the horizon, and even though you liked to think of yourself as accustomed to the holy city’s climate, it still took a toll on you. you decided to open the window, hoping the fresh breeze would make you feel better. it did, even if just a little. you sighed in relief, smiling to yourself as you watched children playing outside of your surgery’s window. they seemed so carefree, falling and instantly getting up, unable to pay any attention to their scraped knees as the whirl of fun distracted them from pain. this sight brought distant memories, buried somewhere deep within your mind. once, you were like them too — running around the fields, covered in dirt and grass until your mother would finally drag you home, and lecture how dangerous it was to stray so far away. when was the last time you thought about that? life in the holy city stripped you away from all that was once dear. never ending conflicts and problems piling upon one another, forcing you to push back any comfort left.

you prayed that those children would never have to bear such burdens, even though it was nigh impossible to avoid.

as you continued to brood, someone opened the door. your head snapped towards the direction of the sound, immediately recognizing the silhouette. your brows furrowed as you tore yourself off from the windowsill, stepping a bit closer to the man. it was an extremely rare occurrence — him visiting you out of his own volition, that is. you sent him a cautious look, feeling a tinge of anxiety rise up in your gut. you were having such a good day, and now he probably came to ruin it, likely out of boredom. you already opened your mouth to chase him away, but before you could say anything his voice resonated through the room.

"what?" Mydei asked, as if your expression offended him, "can’t i visit our physician?" the man’s words were phrased like one of his usual sarcastic remarks, making your brow twitch.

your frown deepened slightly as you continued to study him with intent eyes. something was obviously off. "well, why’re you here then?"

at that, Mydei paused. his gaze jumped around the room, and he appeared a bit conflicted. it was unlike him to be caught off guard like that, but he came to you - obviously he had a goal in mind, yet now he refused to voice his thoughts. perhaps his pride didn’t allow him to. if it was anybody else you’d be already on the case, sitting them down and coercing into admitting their troubles. however, this was Mydei, and you were adamant about helping him. you stood there, tapping your foot as you scrutinized him, waiting for the man to finally say something.

before your patience managed to reach its limit, his voice once again tore through the silence. "i want you to cast healing energy on me."

you barely stopped your burst of laughter caused by the absurdity of his demand. seriously, come again? he seemed completely fine, standing straight and still managing to get on your nerves. if it wasn’t the picture of health, then you definitely didn’t know what it was. anyway, since when did he experience any kind of pains? Mydei was able to take blows effortlessly and live through fatal wounds, and now he was asking you to waste your time on him. was it to ridicule you?

"you’re joking, right?" you put your hands on your hips, restraining yourself from making any unnecessary comments. for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like fighting today. truthfully, you never did.

"is it really so unbelievable to you, [name]?" the man scoffed, taking few long strides towards the medical bed, "and you dare call yourself a physician." he taunted, a crooked smirk stretching his lips.

Mydei sat heavily, making the bed creak dangerously under the sudden pressure - you winced, hoping it wouldn’t break. you could feel your blood pressure rising, but you clenched your teeth in order to keep any remarks behind them. no, you won’t allow him to get a rise out of you. not today.

"alright, let’s assume something is genuinely wrong with you. what is it?"

another prolonged pause. the only sound filling the space was distant laughter and ticking of the clock hanging on one of the walls. it was arguably worse than listening to Aglaea’s scoldings.

"must you always ask such stupid questions? get to work, or i’ll make sure you bid goodbye to your little workplace tomorrow morning." after a while of contemplation Mydei snarled, visibly annoyed by your questions. it’s something he often did - threaten you. he rarely pulled off any of his promises, but they still made your mind stir with anxieties. if you could, you’d take a basin filled with water and forcibly dip his head inside until he finally lost consciousness. an unrealistic vision it was, because before you’d manage to get a handful of his golden locks, he would have already knocked the water out of your hands and laughed at your poor attempts.

why did you keep putting up with him, even though you were fed up beyond reason?

(grief-stricken people seek resolve).

"at least i wouldn’t need to look at your face everyday," you snapped back, closing the distance between you two, "tell me what’s bothering you, or i won’t cast anything."

it’s not like you cared — you genuinely didn’t, but you wouldn’t be effective unless you knew where the problem was rooted. spreading energy through the whole body was always pretty demanding, so you’d rather focus on one specific spot. you waited for Mydei’s response, but upon receiving none, you sighed with defeat. you throughly washed your hands with soap (something unpleasant crawled up your spine as you felt his eyes fixated on you the whole time), and stepped behind the bed. the sooner he leaves, the better.

you usually announced whenever you started to cast your energy, as the feeling at first was often akin to a slight shock. this time however, you firmly put your hands on his back and surged all of it at once, wanting to capture his jolty reaction. unsurprisingly, Mydei didn’t do anything other than gaze at the floor tiles with a bored look. how come things never turned out the way you wanted? with a little more fervor, you moved your hands towards the nape of his neck. your fingers twitched as you imagined curling them around his throat, cutting out the oxygen — but soon you turned down the vision. you weren’t always like this - this aggressive, and violent. what were you even thinking? Mydei was the bane of your existence, but it’s not like he deserved to suffer.

(or maybe he did?)

your brows narrowed together as you forced the intrusive thoughts out of your mind space. you were a medic, damn it—

"are you doing this on purpose, or what?" he murmured, slightly turning his face to look at you from the corner of his eye. you blinked twice, not understanding what he was referring to. "i mean breathing so hard on my neck. stop it."

you almost retracted your hands, suddenly feeling a mixture of embarrassment and ire. you didn’t even realize that your breaths got so labored, and much to your chagrin, you had no witty response to offer. with a heavy heart, you continued to move your palms around the man’s back, trying to find out yourself where his pains were located. finally, when you stopped around the shoulder blades, Mydei’s muscles seemed to relax at last, even if just a little bit.

"does it hurt here?" you asked absentmindedly, focusing on the flow of energy escaping your fingers.

being so gentle with someone who would never do the same to you felt almost disgusting. but you weren’t wicked at heart, and it was your job to put people at ease instead of furthering their misery. your mother would never approve of causing harm, no matter if the patient was especially awful.

Mydei nodded in response, his back hunching. you took that as a 'yes', continuing to heal. after about three minutes you were done, and the man got up from his seat, stretching his limbs as if he just woke up from a long slumber. you worked your expression into something more unpleasant, worried that if he saw the softened look on your face he might mock you for it.

"we’re done now, so get out of my face." you announced bluntly, the tone of your voice turning harsher than before.

he didn’t even spare you a glance as he walked towards the exit. "i don’t feel any difference. you’re awful at this, [name]." Mydei answered, shutting the door with a loud 'thud!'.

you stood there for a longer while, contemplating whether you should run after the man and choke him like you wanted to earlier. you ultimately abandoned that idea, instead sitting back into the chair and cradling your head with your hands. you hated Mydei. not because he was horrible, but rather because you still were somehow able of being delicate with him. why? how was that physically possible? bodies respond to spite with stronger reactions that yours — if your hatred was real, you wouldn’t even let him into your surgery in the first place.

that dreadful thought would haunt you for the next two years, everyday.

normally, you wouldn’t even dare to reminiscence about such things, but the dull taste of cauliflower made you think of equally terrible recollections. during the second year of your stay in Okhema, things took the turn for worse, and the unpleasant sensation on your tongue made all of your memories resurface.

the drastic shift in the air definitely felt like a thunder’s roar, at least in retrospection. soulmates are a complex thing, and even though they play a very significant role in people’s lives, the research on them is surprisingly lacking. alas, one thing is for sure — there is no turning back. the same applied to yours and Mydei’s case, the feelings of odium soon melting into something more conflicted. he was - much to your dismay - occupying your mind all the time. of course you would think of him earlier on, however back then it definitely got out of hand. constant questions plagued your already fatigued brain, forcing you to seek him out. you did nothing but argue, or huff and scoff at each other, but somehow it put you at ease. a certain sense of twisted familiarity. it worked both ways, unfortunately, and whenever you got busy with work, he’d still come bustling through your door. sometimes you’d fight, other times he’d ramble about things that got on his nerves, and you listened. you started to rely on him — apparently the same happened to Mydei, as Phainon often pointed out how agitated he got whenever you got separated for too long.

you never acknowledged the change in your behavior. it came naturally, just like sun peeks from behind the clouds after rain. your stormy relationship didn’t exactly calm down — Phainon still complained about the noise you two would make, and Castorice winced whenever you both appeared in the same room. mayhem followed in your wake, but at least Mydei stopped his constant threats on your person, and you spared the plates you oh-so-loved throwing at his head (even though he always avoided every single one of them).

what didn’t stop however, was the feeling of going crazy. hatred, spite and agitation took the nightmarish shape of obsession. alienation shook your bones whenever you tried forming any other meaningful connections, and your thoughts always sprinted back to the only question in your head: "where is Mydei?".

more often than not, you felt as if you completely lost yourself. the promises you made to your own self — to run far away from that man, never looking back — it all seemed so distant now. two years of mental exhaustion made your perception crooked, and everything seemed wrong. sometimes you’d wake up and look around, feeling as if someone moved the furniture in your surgery. it wasn’t rearranged, no, but the placement was off by a few inches. the same feeling of unease would creep up on you whenever you thought about how cruelly you betrayed yourself.

Mydeimos was important to you. coming to terms with that fact was hard, and the unfathomable hurt of it was almost comparable to when you cradled your mother’s terrifyingly bony hands in yours. two completely different situations, yet you still felt as if they shared a common ground — your downfall. it will continue to torment you, until your body will finally be lowered in a casket.

the worst part is, you still don’t know whether you genuinely lost your mind, or if the soultie effect caused it.

everything is changing. everything is getting worse. Phainon payed you a visit today, and he was talking about something, yet you couldn’t recall what it was. you gave him some tea — he said it was the best he had in a long time. you wanted to believe him, but the way his lips stretched in unnaturally cordial smile indicated otherwise. you couldn’t blame him though, as the brew was prepared with health-prosperity in mind. you could put a few sugar cubes inside, but it would defeat its original purpose.

the conversation between you and him didn’t stick, and you felt awkward. when you first got into the holy city, Phainon was definitely someone you would call a friend. he secured you a good job and a place to live, and would always try cheering you up. right now, there was an invisible wall separating you both. you could see no way around it.

"so, uhh, [name]," he began after a long pause, putting down the elegant cup back on the table, "Mydei was asking about you. i told him you were busy with work, so that he wouldn’t bother you." Phainon let out an unsure chuckle, carefully observing your expression.

you hummed in acknowledgment, taking a sip of your herbal drink. "good thing you did, else i’d have to put up with that man for gods know how long."

the image of Mydei walking unceremoniously into your surgery, and starting to pick at you made your skin crawl. you’d pick at him too, spewing insults left and right. you’d push him to the limits, watching the man come undone in front of your own eyes before the conversation would turn into a screaming match. then, you’d calm down. he’d stare at the tiles again, counting, and you would fall onto your chair with a resigned sigh. Mydei would eventually apologize, and you’d smile at him. it sounded terrible, no?

(yet you still yearned for it, the equal ruin).

Phainon laughed genuinely now, and you had to admit that happiness looked great on him. as of late, he seemed more worried than usual.

"well, i’m glad you approve of my decisions. you two really don’t get along, do you?" he mused, his gaze now trailing over to the window. perhaps the sights outside were more interesting than your face.

"no, no we don’t." you admitted in a weak voice, even though you didn’t want to sound so unconvinced. what was there to deny? someone once compared you and Mydei to two tigers — you didn’t catch on it until later, when you realized those animals were prone to killing each other in fights to death. that person was on point, much to your chagrin.

when you were unable of adding anything else to your lacking sentence, you thought it would be better for you to spend time with some other people. perhaps then you’d relearn what it means to be a normal, functioning human instead of a husk who only could spew and clash.

"oh, look at the time [name]!" Phainon suddenly called out, getting up a little bit too fast from his seat. "Aglaea wanted to see with me, and i don’t want to be late." he explained vaguely as you sent him a perplexed look, also standing up.

"a-alright then." you stammered out, taken aback by his rapid reaction. maybe he got bored, and came up with an excuse on the spot. "see you soon?"

"yeah, see you soon." he sent you a slightly nervous smile before walking out of the door. you watched him disappear, the surgery once more filled up with silence. you gazed at his barely touched tea, and decided to pour it out in the sink.

as you were doing that, you heard the distinctive footsteps outside. you didn’t even get the chance to turn around before Mydei walked through the entrance, that ever-present scowl on his face deeper than usual. you carefully placed down the cup, afraid of breaking it. it was your favorite, and you couldn’t afford to lose anything else dear to your heart, even if it was only porcelain.

"so that’s what you were busy with, huh?" the man asked, his tone low as he stepped closer to you. at first you didn’t understand what he meant, but after a second everything clicked. Phainon lied to him on your account, and then managed to spot him through your window. he left in hurry, thinking that Mydei discovering you both would only cause more problems. your heart clenched at his consideration as you observed the man with narrowed eyes.

"are you insinuating something?" you hissed, feeling the tension in the air arise with every second. "who are you to tell me what to do anyway? go find someone else to bully, because i’m really not in the mood for your bullshit."

"no, i’m not insinuating anything," he replied, venom practically dripping from his words, "i simply find it hilarious that you thought you could deceive me like that. do i look stupid to you, [name]?"

you couldn’t help the huff of irritation escaping your lungs as you looked around yourself, almost bewildered. Mydei seldom acted like that — yes, he was an absolute pain, however he has never outwardly shown his disapproval of you meeting with others. you didn’t even like Phainon in a romantic sense, and you never would. to think that this man came to such a conclusion was baffling, especially when you two weren’t even in a relationship.

"deceive you? are you crazy?" you barked out, spreading your arms apart, "you’re acting absurdly, Mydei! do you think i’m your possession, or something? you always seem to talk about how much you despise me, and yet here you are, ordering me around as you see fit!"

"it’s because—" the man paused, as if searching for the best words, long fingers woving through his hair. "you’re driving me mad, [name]! can’t you see? can’t you see what you’ve done?!" he shouted, making you want to take a step back. instead, you boldly rendered the distance between you two.

insanity. the slow descent into pits of human destruction kept dragging him down — perhaps you were much lower than Mydei, gripping his ankles and pulling — or maybe you were above, waving at the man, beckoning him to crawl out. as things were standing now, you were equal in your devastation.

"why are you blaming me?! go blame yourself, you lunatic!" you seethed, grabbing something from the drawer beside you. you paid no attention to the item in your hand, your sight focused solely on Mydei.

why do things between you always have to escalate at such a quick rate? sometimes you felt as if you were treading above an active volcano, where one wrong move could lead to a rapid eruption. you thought of yourself as the victim, and that much was foolish, as you were deeply aware you and him were both lava, and nothing else.

when Mydei failed to snap back in time, you decided to provoke him some more. "what, maybe you’re just jealous? it definitely sounds like that to me." you sneered, but the thought seemed horrifyingly real.

"why would i be jealous of someone like you?" he retaliated, even though the false denial in his expression was obvious, "look at yourself! you think that little cup will do me any harm? you must be really slow of mind." he laughed mockingly at the weapon you gripped in the palm of your hand.

to this day, you still don’t know what pushed you to such extreme. maybe it had something to do with soulties, or you were simply becoming what you’ve always hated. still, the already weakened strings which previously held your sanity together seemed to snap, and no amounts of regret could fix it.

"want to see for yourself?" you didn’t wait for the man’s response, shattering the porcelain across your tiled floor. you immediately bent down to reach for the biggest fragment, cutting yourself in the process, though you cared little for the stinging pain in your fingertips.

possessed by anger that only someone literally tied to your soul could evoke, you surged towards Mydeimos, aiming at his throat. he wouldn’t die, but the few minutes of him coughing up blood and gripping his own slashed neck would be enough to satiate you. you didn’t care that after his recovery, he’d likely kill you. leading such a life carried no sense within anyway.

("you are a medic, my sweet girl. your job is to save people, and make them happy. isn’t that a wonderful vocation? make your mother proud. i’m sure you can”).

Mydei gripped your wrists as you flailed your limbs, struggling against his strength. you kicked at his shin, your foot meeting with the golden metal, and you cursed yourself for forgetting it was there in the first place. a sickening whine of pain ripped from your throat as you realized that even if he unhanded you, letting you do as you please, you still wouldn’t be able to hurt him. after all, how could you?

the force of your efforts made you both stumble down and crash onto the hard floor, littered with sharp pieces of the cup. you felt the breath get knocked out of your chest as you gazed up at the man with wide, terrified eyes. warm blood trickled down your hand, and only then you realized just how deeply you wounded yourself. tears fogged over your vision as dry cries began to jerk your body.

(why do grief-stricken people seek resolve?)

(because they have nothing).

"i’m—" you sobbed, your voice trembling as you looked at Mydei’s equally shaken expression, "i’m so sorry! i’m so very, very sorry!" you wailed, letting go of the porcelain fragment, hearing it clatter on the ground. the man slowly released your wrists from his grasp, still hovering above you.

"stop it, [name]. i went overboard this time. you don’t have to apologize." his voice was uncharacteristically doleful as he observed your face, measuring the amount of tears with downcast eyes.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. you could lie to yourself and pretend like you had genuine friends here, in Okhema— but at the end of the day, Mydei was all you had left. there was no one else. he wasn’t your home, but he was the only one who managed to stomp out the loneliness from your heart. you hated each other to the bone, and yet you still held your bodies on that cold floor, surrounded by nothing but muffled sobbing.

you were not violent. you were kindhearted, and warm, and you never would’ve thought of doing such things, however now all of it seemed repressed somewhere else. Mydei — no, perhaps entirety of the holy city — caused your breath to stop. you wished to view him in repulsion, but for gods’ sake, you knew you could not. once the summer sun will extinguish your being, up until the last cloud of smoke, you’ll be thinking of him. the soulmate mark stretching from your knuckles to wrist hurt. a pulsating kind of pain, reminding you it was still there, and you couldn’t forsake it.

"i’m so sorry…" you choked out, pressing your face into his shoulder.

"don’t be."

"i— i never meant to harm you, i just—"

"i know."

your hands gripped Mydei’s clothes, the blood from your cut already seeping over his previously clean attire and body. he didn’t seem to care, stroking fingers through your hair in attempt of showing any semblance of comfort (could he ever offer it?). you searched for something meaningful to say, but your thoughts narrowed to only one thing.

it was your favorite cup.

you chewed on the piece of meat with a twisted expression, the scar still visible between your fingers and the palm. sometimes it would itch, making it utterly irritating. the sounds of the swords clashing outside seemed to quiet down, now replaced by idle chatter. you were almost finished with your meal, and the time on the clock was indicating near evening. the day was coming to an end.

just like the food in your mouth, tasting rotten even though it looked completely fine, by the third year of your stay in Okhema things suddenly simmered down (wreck of your mind remained). the storm was no longer, thunders and lightning turning into whirlwind — still unpredictable and very much able to cause harm, but a bit more subtle. leading a war for three years straight would humble everyone, even the most capable warriors. for that, you were grateful.

the scorching sun no longer bothered you, and with enough savings you managed to buy yourself a place somewhere further from your surgery. now you didn’t have to reside in the small space, sleeping on medical bed and pretending like being caged there was no problem for you. this change brought you a certain peace of heart, as you regained at least a small piece of your independence.

as for you and Mydei — you still continued with your usual routine, although a bit less fierce. even though you never touched upon the topic, it seemed as if you shared a collective agreement that snapping your teeth at each other’s gullets brought you no good. it never did, but it took you both three years to realize.

now as you stuffed your mouth with some more vegetables, you wondered if Mydei possessed any redeeming qualities. if he didn’t, then you surely would have lost your mind a long time ago. after a short while of brooding, you came up with a verdict — he did. after that incident, it seemed like you started to notice more things. it’s not like you didn’t before, but perhaps you were buried too deep within your own sorrow to actually pay attention. the man wasn’t always awful. there were certain moments when you found common ground, and actually got along. though rare, the soultie progressed, and you felt as if some kind of understanding between you two formed.

after all, he was your soulmate, wasn’t he?

you sat down on the ridge of a big fountain, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. the weather was nice for a change, skies colored with a mesmerizing hue of yellow as the rain stopped pouring a few minutes ago. your clothes were soaked, but that didn’t matter, the cool on your body soothing you. you had a hard time at work today, so you wished for nothing more but a moment of rest — alas, it seemed like the universe wanted to mock you some more.

"look who we have here." a booming voice came from your right making you jump up, even though you were all-too-well accustomed to its sound. "what, don’t tell me you got caught up in the rain?"

"Mydei, give me a break…" you groaned, rubbing at your temples. he was the reason why you had to sweat so much today, and the mere sight of his face already made your blood pressure skyrocket. "are you aware you’re the reason why so many people came to me today?"

from what you’ve gathered, some fools decided it would be a great idea to spar with the Kremnoan prince. nobody wanted to admit to being the originator of the concept, though Phainon appeared especially nervous. you decided against pressuring him into speaking, as he was already injured enough. while you tended to the wounds, sewing the broken skin and putting gauzes to them, everyone kept murmuring one word: 'Mydeimos.' yes, that definitely made sense.

"it’s their fault for being overly-confident." he huffed, sitting down beside you, his eyes fixated on two birds jumping cheerily in a puddle. "if you’re not at least slightly afraid of your opponent, of course you’ll underestimate them, and fail. a pathetic mistake."

"well," you began, stretching out your legs as you captured his expression from the corner of your eye, "i’m not afraid of you at all. does that make me pathetic?"

even though your words sounded a bit exaggerated, it was the truth. throughout all of your fallouts and vicious arguments with Mydei, there was never a time where you were genuinely scared. maybe of yourself — but not of him. over the time you have learned to trust your gut, and right now it was telling you that your soulmate wasn’t a threat. yes, he throughly enjoyed making your existence filled with various anxieties and hardships, but did he ever rise a hand at you? you tried to literally slit his throat, and yet he didn’t even look offended, meanwhile most people would have strangled you unconscious.

his eyebrows rose slightly as he turned his face towards you. "is that so?” he didn’t seem to believe you, doubt arising in the honeyed irises.

"yeah," a humorless, dry chuckle escaped your lips as you studied the look he carried with great attention, "the sun will go out before i’m truly afraid of you. i have no reason to, anyway."

perhaps you should have reasons, because one of Mydei’s glares was enough to render someone unmoving. you watched him fight before, and the enemies seemed to be nothing but mere rag-dolls to him. a mentally-sound person would be trembling in respect before him — unfortunately for you, you were far from that, hence why you had to put up with all of the shouting and arguments.

"how can you be so sure, [name]?" Mydei mocked, but his comment lacked in real bite. it fell as something lighthearted on your ears, urging you to continue.

"if you really wanted to harm me, i’d be beheaded by the time i first threw a plate at you." that evoked a poorly contained snicker from him, and you couldn’t help but smile along. "and you’re… you’re not a bad person, Mydei— at least i don’t think so. bad people don’t play with children, nor do they bake pastries in their free time."

Mydei looked at you as if you just offended his whole lineage, way too dumbfounded to respond. you shook your head, an involuntary huff of laughter slipping past your lips as you took in his baffled expression. "you thought i wouldn’t notice?"

"well— well, obviously—" he forced the words out, struggling to compose a proper sentence, utterly embarrassed. "Phainon must have told you, right? he must have. oh, when i get my hands on that little—"

Phainon didn’t tell you anything. it’s just that after three years of knowing someone, people usually become aware of such things. you vividly remember Mydei playing hide and seek with a group of Kremnoan children, even if a little begrudgingly. it was one year ago, and Krateros asked you to relay some informations upon him. you can’t quite recall what it was, but you remember it being grim — normally you wouldn’t care, but it somehow made you feel somber. you didn’t want to ruin Mydei’s moment of peace, so you simply stood behind a pillar, watching the man count down as kids ran around trying to find the best hiding spot. after a while you departed, thinking it would be best to tell him later.

the other thing — precisely speaking, his baking hobby — you discovered by accident. after a long working day, you spotted Castorice and Tribbie eating something. you didn’t mean to stare, but they eventually noticed your longing gaze and invited you to sit with them. it was rare for you to share a meal with anyone, so you gratefully accepted one of the profiteroles. it was delicious, and the girls giggled at the way your eyes lit up. Tribbie explained those were a gift from 'De', as they liked to affectionately call him. you were surprised to hear that, and even thought about using that as a leverage in one of your many arguments, but eventually abandoned the idea. it wasn’t a bad activity. actually, you found it quite endearing, as far as your positive feelings towards Mydei could go.

you sighed, looking up at the yellow sky as you pleaded the gods for more patience - then, you focused back on the man. "Phainon didn’t tell me, and i don’t perceive any of those things as something you should be ashamed of. they’re good qualities. at least i know you still have a heart, Mydeimos." you grumbled, rolling your eyes.

his features seemed to relax a bit, as if the cause of his stress was based solely on your opinion. "well, aren’t you the sweetest." he murmured, a bit dryly.

you hummed in response, watching Mydei suddenly turn his face away from you, his expression obscured by the blonde locks. before you could say anything else, he pulled himself up, and started to walk away. for a second, you contemplated whether you should call after him, but decided to keep your mouth shut. it was rare for you both to share a conversation so civilized, without any crude remarks or insults. you didn’t want to ruin it for yourself, so you watched his silhouette slowly fade into the crowd of people.

and that was it. sometimes, you’d pace around your room and wonder whether you held any love for him. somewhere, in the deepest corners of your soul, the answer perhaps lied. you would have to dissect your body over and over again, searching for it, until you’d finally find the core — oozing with the venom of a rattlesnake, covered in wildflower petals. being in love, what does it feel like? were you even capable of it?

your scorched mind couldn’t grasp the concept, so you decided to leave it unanswered. even though you yearned for it — even if you wanted to catch it like a butterfly, gently nursing against the palms of your hands. contradictions are an inevitable part of the human nature. soulmates were a curse of sorts, and nowadays it seemed as if you were close to giving in. remaining hellbent took a toll on you, and the line between "surrender" and "acceptance" started to blur. still, you would never forget the torment he brought upon you. Mydei won’t forsake the thousands of your spiteful actions either, their ever-presence hovering just a few steps behind.

in a metaphorical sense, it seemed as if you both were constantly throwing up on each other. reduced from humans to mere specimens, created only to claw at one another’s throats, and then crawl back into the warm embrace as the bloody wounds made your bodies shake with cries. nothing less, nothing more.

the fork in your hand scraped against the ceramic material, forming an unpleasant sound. there was nothing left on your plate. the disgusting dinner gone, replaced with smudges of sauce and vegetable scrapes. you frowned when you suddenly heard the knocking on your door, characteristic enough for you to recognize who was standing behind them. you placed the dish onto your desk, sitting back on the bed. usually you’d be stomping to the door, ready for another clash, vicious words already on your tongue. however, now all of your bared teeth was gone. nothing made sense, and you were worn.

"come in." you called, smoothing out your attire from any wrinkles.

the door opened slowly, and a second later you were already facing Mydei. you sent him a questioning look, taking notice of his slightly slumped form. did he injure himself while sparing? no, that wasn’t possible. you observed him carefully, waiting, trying to deduce what the issue was. maybe those annoying pains were getting to him again.

"i was looking for you." he announced, his tone depraved of any kind of ire he’d still sometimes grace you with.

"you know i’m usually at my place during evening hours." you replied, your eyebrows narrowing together. "did something happen?"

"no." Mydei sighed, taking a few steps forwards. "i just wanted to see you, [name]."

you sent him a chary smile, noting the unabashed tone of his voice. honestly, it took you by surprise, but somehow you understood what he meant. it was always like that — you wished to never talk to him again, yet you felt as if you were conjoined.

(grief-stricken people seek resolve, as they have nothing — and once it’s caught by their fangs, they won’t let go, no matter how much pain it brings in its wake).

Mydei’s expression was a little absent, stripped from the usual high-awareness. "you seem tired." a soft mutter left your lips as you gently grabbed his fingers and tugged towards you, wondering whether he was getting enough sleep.

"maybe a bit." he admitted, kneeling by the side of your bed and wrapping his arms around your waist. you let him without any hesitation, watching as he put his head on your lap.

moments of intimacy were not a part of your everyday life, however there were times when one of you would unravel and lean on the other person. humans needed connection. they needed touch, warmth, affection. those were things you’d never use to describe the relationship with your soulmate, yet you couldn’t resist the sparse comfort when offered.

Mydeimos was much nicer to you in your head. your conversations didn’t usually go as planned. sometimes, when you felt the side of his face press into your neck as you let your healing energy flow through his spine, you dwelled on things he harbored within his heart. after you were done, he’d retract his body away from yours and send you a fleeting glance, filled with grudges and dismay. you’d scowl back, thinking how nice it would be to never see him again.

you ran your fingers through his golden locks, feeling at how soft they were in contrast to their owner. whenever the man got tired — genuinely tired — he’d always become so docile. the rise and fall of his chest was meek, and you would’ve thought he wasn’t breathing at all if you didn’t look closer. the same hands that ripped his enemies apart were now cradling you, as if your body was made out of glass. all the hatred and rage was gone, replaced by silent agreement to let this moment last before you’d be back to spitting at each other.

Mydei never opened up to you. you didn’t know what he went through in the past — all the horrors and trauma shaping him into who he was now. it must have taken a lot of effort to stay gentle, at least in a certain way, hidden away from the eyes of others. you leaned down, watching his relaxed face as you trailed over the tear-shaped tattoo with your intent gaze. when you felt Mydei press himself further into your lap, one conclusion appeared clearer than anything you managed to deduce throughout those three years of bloodborne struggles.

no matter what, all wolves dream of being a dog.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤONLY GIRL (IN THE WORLD) * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Chris takes Y/N for his trip to Las Vegas with his brothers, and in the middle of neon lights and late-night walks, Chris’s and Y/N get lost in love and lust.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　SMUT (mdni), p in v, mentions of squirt, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, slight praise kink, petnames.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The neon lights of Las Vegas flickered in a dazzling display, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the crowded streets. The air was electric, buzzing with excitement and anticipation as the city came alive with the night. Y/N stood at the edge of the crowd, her hand securely entwined with Chris’s. She felt a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins. Tonight was their night, a night to explore, to be free in the city where they always dreamed of knowing.

Chris looked over at her, his blue eyes sparkling with the same excitement she felt. His smile was wide and genuine, the kind of smile that made her heart flutter every time. He squeezed her hand gently, pulling her closer as they navigated through the throngs of people, his thumb caressing her soft skin gently.

"Ready for an adventure, babe?" The boy asked loudly, trying to make his voice stand out among the diverse sounds that echoed from all corners, his tone filled with playful mischief.

"Always." Y/N replied warmly, knowing that Chris loved to repeat that same sentence every time they were about to do a new thing, her own smile matching his. She felt a rush of warmth at his touch, the familiar comfort of his presence making her feel invincible.

Freemont Street was a sensory overload in the best possible way. Street performers dazzled with their acrobatics and fire tricks, while musicians filled the air with lively tunes. The aroma of street food wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of excitement and possibility. Above them, the LED canopy displayed an ever-changing array of lights and images, turning the night sky into a living canvas.

Chris guided her towards a small food stall, the enticing smell of fresh funnel cakes drawing them in.

"Are you hungry, babe? We haven't eaten anything since lunch." He asked softly, his eyes running over the displayed menu before turning back to Y/N, his gaze twinkling with delight.

"Oh yes, please. I'm starving." Y/N laughed, nodding eagerly, tilting her head so she could look at him, tugging lightly on his hand, indicating that she wanted him to order.

It was always like that with them, Y/N didn't like to order in restaurants or cafeterias, always feeling too shy to do so, and when she was with Chris, it was as if he automatically assumed that position.

The brunette ordered a large funnel cake, piled high with powdered sugar and strawberries, his large hand cutting it in half and giving her her piece, watching with amusement as she took the first bite, the sugar dusting her painted lips in an adorably way.

A nasal laugh scaped him as he reached out, gently brushing the sugar away with his thumb, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.

"You’ve got a little something…" He teased, his voice soft accompanied by a smirk decorating the corner of his lips.

Y/N blushed, her heart racing at the intimacy of the moment, holding herself back so as not to pull his hand back and plant thousands of little kisses on the milky skin.

"Thank you, baby." She murmured, feeling a warm glow spread through her chest, little tingles running through her body while their eyes stayed connected for long seconds.

As they wandered further down Freemont Street, they came across a street performer dressed as Elvis, belting out classic rock and roll tunes. A loud gasp scaped Chris's lips, his eyes widening with a mischievous glint. The boy stopped his steps abruptly, causing Y/N to stop hers as well, her eyes meeting his with a thread of confusion passing through her pupils.

"Care to dance, pretty girl?" He suggested, holding out his free hand, smiling widely while sending a wink her way.

Y/N giggled, feeling a rush of excitement, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Why not?"

A small cry of happiness escaped Chris's lips in celebration before his hands grabbed Y/N's, pulling her close. They joined the small crowd of people dancing to the music, their movements light and carefree.

Chris spun her around, Y/N's slightly swirled dress following the movement smoothly like a protagonist, their laughter infectious as they moved together in perfect harmony. Y/N felt a surge of happiness, the world around them fading away as they lost themselves in the music and each other.

After their impromptu dance session, they continued their exploration, stopping to watch a group of street artists creating intricate chalk drawings on the pavement. The artists worked with swift, confident strokes, transforming the plain concrete into vibrant masterpieces.

Chris pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist before resting his chin above her head.

"This is amazing." He muttered, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N nodded, resting her back against his chest, her hand finding his that rested on her waist, her fingers decorated with delicate rings snaking between his long ones until they intertwined perfectly.

"It really is. I love how alive everything feels here." Her voice sounded airy, amazed.

They stood there for a while, simply enjoying the atmosphere and each other’s company. The energy of Freemont Street was infectious, filling them with a sense of wonder and joy.

As the night wore on, they found themselves at a small outdoor bar, its neon sign flickering invitingly. They ordered some sodas, finding a cozy corner where they could sit side by side and watch the world go by.

Chris sat relaxed on the comfortable chair, his left arm resting on the surface of the table, next to his Pepsi, while his right one draped casually over Y/N’s shoulders, the tips of his fingers caressing the slightly exposed skin of her arm softly.

"You know..." He began, his voice thoughtful while his eyes remained on the unknown people randomly passing by a few meters away from them. "I’ve always wanted to come here with you, to get to know this city with you. There’s something magical about this place, and I really wanted to share it with you."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes big and shining like little starts and her heart swelling with love.

"Let's thank Justin right now then." She joked, her tone sounding amused before a laugh escaped her lips, joined by her boyfriend. "I've always wanted to visit Las Vegas too, you know? And I'm so grateful for you because you made it happen."

Chris smiled, his eyes softening in a way that, if it was possible, his pupils would take on little heart shapes.

"You make everything perfect, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you."

Y/N felt tears of happiness prick at the corners of her eyes, moving her body so that she was closer to him comfortably, craving for his warm.

"I’m the lucky one." She whispered, reaching up to cup his face in her hands, her fingers caressing his cheeks softly. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you too, pretty girl." The boy replied, his voice full of the best emotions. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

The world around them seemed to fade away as they kissed, the noise and lights of Freemont Street becoming a distant backdrop to their own little world. It was just them, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing a moment of pure, unadulterated love.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Chris rested his forehead against hers.

"I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with you." Chris whispered, the warm breath that followed his words lightly hitting Y/N's face. "You make me so soft for you, I don't even recognize myself sometimes." He joked, smiling after hearing the laugh scaping Y/N's lips.

"It's a love potion that I pour into your Pepsi every day."

They sat there for a while longer, talking and laughing, basking in the glow of their love and the magic of the night.

As the crowd began to thin and the lights of Freemont Street started to dim, they knew it was almost time to head back. But they didn’t mind.

It was past 1 AM when Chris and Y/N finally decided to leave the street. The energy of the night still buzzed in the air around them as they began their walk back to the hotel. The neon lights coming from the buildings of the city glowed brightly, casting a surreal luminescence over everything. The streets were quieter now, the crowds having thinned but still alive with the hum of Vegas nightlife.

Hand in hand, they strolled leisurely, not wanting the night to end. They passed late-night diners, open-air bars, and the occasional street performer still plying their trade. The warm desert breeze carried the faint sounds of laughter and music, a fitting backdrop to their moment.

"Do you think it’s always like this?" Y/N asked, her voice filled with wonder while her eyes traveled to every corner. "So vibrant and alive?"

"I think it is. They don't call here the city that never sleeps for nothing, right?" Chris chuckled, squeezing her hand before bringing her closer.

"I love it!" Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with happiness.

They continued their walk, commenting about something they saw, Chris constantly bringing some little facts about those same things. Every now and then, they’d pause to take in a particularly stunning view or to watch a street performer.

When they finally reached their hotel, they entered the lobby, still laughing and talking, Chris excitedly reminiscing about certain moments as he guided Y/N carefully by her hand, their fingers never separating. The staff greeted them with warm smiles, and they exchanged friendly hellos. The lobby was quiet, a stark contrast to the lively streets outside, but it felt like a serene haven.

Chris and Y/N stepped into the elevator, the doors closing them into a private world.

As it ascended, they stood close, Chris’s arm around her waist firmly, his fingers playing with the little strings from her dress. Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, a soft sigh of contentment escaping her lips.

Their room welcomed them with its cozy ambiance. Y/N immediately making her way to the large mirror near the entrance, starting to remove her jewelry.

"Tonight was incredible, Chris. The lights, the music, the people… everything was just so magical. I’ve never experienced anything like it." She spoke excitedly, her voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room

Chris watched her a few steps away while taking off his shoes, his eyes filled with adoration. He approached her from behind after feeling comfortable enough, his hands working on gently moving her loose hair to one side. The boy lowered his head slightly, pressing a tender kiss to her now exposed shoulder, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

"I’m glad you loved it." He whispered, his voice a soft caress against her ears. "I wanted tonight to be special for you, petal."

Y/N smiled, observing him through the reflection while continuing to talk dreamily, lost in her thoughts as she took off her earrings and rings.

Chris’s hands began to roam over her still-clothed body, his touch both tender and possessive, the tips of his fingers like a ghost touch. He kept his eyes on the mirror, watching her reactions intently, his spine curved foward and his chin resting above her shoulder, his lips a few centimeters away from her neck, breathing in her perfume.

His hands slid from her waist to her hips, then back up to her shoulders, his touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, but she continued to speak, her voice softer now, her eyes slightly unfocused.

"And the way the lights danced across the sky… it was like we were in our own little world." She murmured, her words slowing as Chris’s hands caressed her.

Chris pressed another kiss to her neck, stroking the tip of his nose against the sensitive skin, smiling as he felt the small hairs near his lips stand up with goosebumps, his breath warm against her skin.

"We were." He said softly, his voice sounding seductive and slightly husky. "Just you and me, in our own perfect world, yeah?"

He continued his gentle exploration, his hands moving with deliberate slowness. His eyes never left the mirror, captivated by the sight of her. He loved seeing her like this, so surrendered and relaxed, her guard completely down.

Y/N leaned back into his touch, her voice fading as she closed her eyes, savoring the sensation, little sighs escaping her lips mixing with soft gasps. Chris’s hands traced the outline of her body, his touch growing more intimate, his intentions clear. He wanted to prolong this moment, to make it last as long as possible.

As his hands moved too close to her core, Y/N opened her eyes, meeting his gaze in the mirror. There was a spark of desire in her eyes, mingled with the love and trust she felt for him.

"Chris…" She whispered, her voice a soft plea.

He smiled, his eyes darkening with intensity, seeming to pierce her figure in the mirror reflection.

"I know, sweetheart. Let’s make tonight unforgettable, hm? Let me make you never forget about it."

The room was bathed in a soft, ambient light, the glow of the city outside filtering through the curtains, illuminating their bodies.

"Yes. Please, Chris." She pleaded softly, exhaling.

His hands moved with reverence, tracing the curves of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. Y/N’s heart raced, a mix of anticipation and desire building within her.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her neck.

"You’re so beautiful, you know that?" He whispered, his voice a husky murmur. "I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you."

Y/N felt a surge of emotions, her eyes meeting his in the mirror again. There was a deep, unspoken connection between them, a bond that transcended words. She reached up, placing her hand over his, squeezing gently in silent plead.

Chris’s hands moved to the back of her dress, fingers deftly undoing the zipper too slowly for Y/N's taste. The fabric slipped from her shoulders by itself, the soft texture being pulled down in gravity, pooling at her feet.

He let out a soft sigh of appreciation, his eyes roaming over her bare skin as if it was the first time he was seeing her like that. His mind thanked repeatedly and silently that she wasn't wearing a bra, only her panties in the way of his full vision.

"You’re so fucking perfect." He complimented again, his voice filled with awe. "Every inch of you."

Y/N felt a warm blush rise from her chest to her cheeks, a mix of shyness and excitement. Chris’s words made her feel cherished, like she was the most precious thing in the world. He always did that.

He had that power over her.

Chris braced his hands on either side of her hips, his fingers squeezing the exposed skin possessively before moving, guiding her to the bed, his touch insistent.

They lay down together, Chris’s body covering hers, his weight a comforting presence. He took his time to observe her some more, his flaming blue eyes running over her flushed cheeks and desperate look before finally lowering his head, their mouths meeting in a deep kiss, his lips soft and warm against hers. Y/N responded eagerly, her hands flying to his head, tangling in his messy brown hair, pulling him closer, a soft whimper scaping her throat.

Chris chuckled deeply with her desperation, ignoring it completely, his kisses slow and deliberate, a thread of saliva connecting their lips. He explored every inch of her mouth, savoring the taste of her.

A breathy whine scaped her when Chris caught her bottom lip with his teeth, pulling it gently, nibbling just the right amount, her body arching into his touch. She felt a deep desperation for him, every nerve ending alight with anticipation, begging for his hands, eyes, cock, everything.

His hands roamed her body, each touch a caress that sent sparks of pleasure through her. He moved from her lips to her neck, trailing a line of wet kisses down to her collarbone.

"You’re amazing." He murmured between kisses. "So beautiful, so perfect. So mine, yeah?"

"Y-yes, yours. On-Only yours." The girl stumbled over her words, her throat trying to draw in air that never seemed to be enough for her lungs, her skin burning with desire.

Chris’s hands moved lower, tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her hips, squeezing all the skin where it passed, his touch gentle but firm.

His hands found their way to her breasts, cupping them gently, his thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples, his mouth watering instantly with the feeling of it.

Y/N gasped, her back arching at the sensation of his cold touch against her warm skin, feeling like needles above it. Chris’s touch was electric, sending waves of shivers through her.

He moved lower, his lips following the path his hands had taken, surrounding her nipple of her right tit, his warm tongue caressing the slightly wrinkled skin, sucking with the correct force enough to elicit a loud moan from Y/N along with a squeeze of her thighs around his hip bones, bringing him closer.

"Oh, Chris. 'S so good." She moaned, pushing her chest forward, her tit pressing deliciously against Chris's face, his nose nuzzling the soft skin.

"You’re everything t'me." He whispered after lifting his face, the surrounding of his lips and chin luscious with drool, his eyes half-closed as if he was hypnotized, looking deep inside hers.

He was quick to move to her other breast, his tongue escaping between his lips before even finding her abandoned nipple.

"I need to feel all of you. S'obsessed."

Y/N felt tears of pleasure prick at the corners of her eyes. She felt overstimulating by everything. Chris’s words, his touch, everything about this moment made her feel amazing, like she was the only girl in the world.

Chris continued his slow, deliberate exploration, his hands and lips worshipping her body. He moved lower, kissing his way down her stomach, his touch a constant source of pleasure, his hot tongue in contrast to the cold drool left behind generating incessant goosebumps on her skin. Y/N’s breath came in soft gasps, her body trembling with desire.

When he finally reached her thighs, Chris paused, looking up at her with a question in his eyes. Y/N nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. He always had permission.

Chris smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to her inner thigh before moving higher, his lips repeatedly sealing over the cotton fabric of her panties while his index fingers hooked into the sides of it, starting his movements downwards, dragging the piece of clothing - now wet - across her skin gently and slowly until finally taking it off completely.

The first touch of his tongue against her core sent a jolt of pleasure through her, a soft moan escaping her lips instantly.

Chris took his time as if he was pleasuring himself too - and in a way, he was -, the tip of his tongue caressing her bud of nerve with force, constantly drawing little 8's, interspersing with his lips closing around the skin of her clit and sucking it hard, eliciting loud and pretty sounds from Y/N.

He was attentive, listening to her reactions, adjusting his touch to bring her the most he could. His nose remained pressed to the top of her intimacy, pressing the right spots as he drank her like a thirsty man.

After some minutes of only tasting her, Chris brought his right and free hand to the middle of her tights, his fingers traveling through the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, snaking upwards, lightly pinching the flesh of her ass that was exposed by her position before finding home right below his own chin, touching her core delicately, spreading her folds with his index and middle finger, exposing her most intimate parts to him, his tongue darting out to lap up the wetness that fell from her needy hole.

Y/N’s hands clenched the sheets, her body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her constantly. Chris’s touch was like magic, and she felt like she was floating above it, lost in a sea of sensation.

"Y' taste so fucking amazing, bunny." Chris's voice came out as a groan as he lifted his face, the collar of his white t-shirt wet with sweat and drool, a trail of saliva running down his chin and neck, and his pants hanging low on his hips, almost begging to be taken off, a large bulge catching the girl's eyes.

"P-Please, babe, take it off. 'Want to see you." Y/N begged, lifting her right leg and pressing her foot onto the waistband of his jeans, pushing it down, the belt preventing the fabric from sliding off.

"Yeah? Y' want to see me, petal? Want to see my dick so fucking hard for you? Hm?" Chris' bottom lip jutted forward, a sarcastic pout decorating his face, his tone of voice seeming to mimic his girl's, earning a whine in return followed by a timid nod of her head, her teared eyes finding his, pleading silently.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her eagerness, his hands leaving her body momentarily and going to his own t-shirt, his knees propped firmly against the mattress and between Y/N's legs, preventing her from closing them completely, her pussy lips still in the same position he left them, wide open and showing her small hole, her walls pathetically clenching around nothing.

His tongue escaped between his lips, wetting them as his eyes fixed on her core, removing the pieces of his clothes from his own body quicker and nimbly this time, eager to taste her again.

The sight of his painfully hard cock slamming against his pelvis was the most beautiful sight for Y/N's eyes, and the slight glow of pre-cum dripping from his swollen head, desperate for relief, made her mouth salivate.

His hands were quick to toss the material of his clothes away before reaching down again, resting his left arm above her inner thigh, caging it open, and pressing the palm of his hand over her belly hard, his digits sinking on her skin.

Chris brought his face closer to her pussy, observing it for a few seconds as if it were a work of art, blowing a light breath of cold air before gathering as much drool as he could into his mouth, spitting it over her clenching hole, watching intently and in awe as his saliva mixed with her wetness, lowering his face and pending his tongue out like a dog, pushing it in with ease, tasting him and her, curling it inside her spongy walls.

He didn't waste time to exchange his tongue for the fingers of his free hand; his tongue moving up from her center to her clit, surrounding it and sucking the nerve just right while his fingertips caress her entrance for a few seconds, teasing her, before finally entering, fingers thrusting inside her warm and welcoming walls, curling upwards to hit that perfect spot.

Y/N cried out almost instantly, her back arching off the bed as the knot in her stomach felt like snapping.

"Ri-Right there, Chris. Oh my G-" Her sentence turned into an almost pornographic moan as Chris's fingers increased its movements, his mouth never leaving her bud, his tongue continuing to flick against the sensitive nerve, pushing her to her first orgasm.

"'Could jus' stay here all day, y'know? 'Was made for my tongue, hm?" His voice sounded muffled and wet against her pussy, echoing through her ears and sending vibrations to her core.

When she finally reached her peak, it was like a dam breaking, waves of pleasure crashing over her. She cried out, her body arching like a cat as she was overwhelmed by the intensity of it, her thighs shaking hard and on their own as her hands twist the sheets between her fingers, pulling them closer to her body.

Chris never stopped his movements, only slowing down, his touch now gentle and soothing, helping her ride out the waves of her orgasm.

When she finally came down from her high, her eyes half-closed and her mouth opened from where little breaths came in and out, Chris moved back up, his lips completely smeared with her wetness tracing small kisses from her chin to her open mouth, kissing her clumsily and messy.

"You’re incredible." He whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I love you so much."

Y/N smiled timidly, her heart filled with satisfaction, love, and gratitude.

"I love you too." She whispered tiredly, her voice a soft murmur.

Chris kissed her again, his touch filled with tenderness before moving away, positioned himself above her, his eyes locking onto hers firmly and steadily.

"Can you give me one more, bunny?" He asked gently, his voice soft.

Y/N nodded without a second thought, her heart racing and her pussy clenching with anticipation.

"Yes... Please. I can take it." She whispered eagerly, her voice filled with longing.

A cocky smile spreads in Chris’s lips, his right hand detaching itself from the mattress, the tips of his fingers snaking across her breasts, belly, and intimacy, stopping on her thighs for a second, caressing her skin momentarily before detaching itself from her.

His fingers were quick to find his dick, rounding his hand around it, his thumb gathering the small drops of precum, running it down his length and spreading the wetness through his bulging veins, pumping it a few times, a hiss scaping through his clenched teeth with the sensation, his eyes rolling with his own sensitivity.

He exhaled, finally guiding his cock close to her pussy, his blue eyes traveling to her face momentarily, a convinced gaze taking over his expression as he noticed her head slightly popped up, her eyes watching all of his movements in awe, her bottom lip caught firmly between her teeth.

"Y my freaky girl, huh? Watching me burry my cock inside y'delicious pussy, yeah?" He lightly tapped his swollen, pink head against her clit three times, eliciting eager whines from his girl before finally aligning himself to her needy hole, pressing skin to skin, entering her slowly, his movements gentle and controlled.

Y/N gasped instantly, her chest arching to meet his, the sensation of him filling her a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy. Chris exhaled as he felt his pelvis touch the upper part of Y/N's cunt, momentarily savoring the sensation of having his dick trapped between tight and warm walls, his favorite place.

Meanwhile, the girl below him was sucking in air through her half open mouth, her jaw slack and her eyes rolling to the back of her head, her eyelashes fluttering against her pink cheeks, feeling the way his thick cock seemed to stretch her open so easily.

Chris took a deep breath, pulling his hips back so that his cock came out all the way, only his head remaining inside her, before pushing forward again, using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his dick up into his girl, leaving her a wilting, blubbering mess.

Tremblers run through Y/N's body with the way he moved, making her feel empty every time he pulled out, her pussy sucking him in again eagerly.

"Goddamn, angel." Chris grits, sucking his teeth in an attempt to keep his concentration on her. "Shit, you feel so fucking good. 'S it good? Y'know you ca-can stop me if you need to."

"Ye-yeah." Y/N managed to let it out amid moans and gasps, her hands leaving the sheets and flying to Chris's back, her digits sinking between the rolls that his shoulders and back created with each movement, squeezing and pushing so that their bodies became closer and closer.

"Attagirl."

They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies entwined in a rhythmic dance. Chris’s touch was gentle but rough, his movements deliberate, each one designed to bring her the most of each feeling.

Y/N felt like she was floating. She clung to Chris desperately, as if she could fall at any instant, her whimpers sounding shuddered, in tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of their bodies connecting.

She felt stimulated in so many places. Her nipples pressed up to his chest, clit being rubbed by his pubic bone, and his fucking cock fucking her so good.

Chris lowered his head to the valley between her breasts, laying on his side so that his lips hugged the skin of her right tit, sucking and nibbling as she clutched onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until she feels her orgasm coming up on her once more. 

And he feels it, too. Mouth opening and eyebrows twisting at the way her pretty and hungry cunt clench around him. The way her body draws him in, treats him right.

Chris is an obsessed son of a bitch for that feeling, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to his girl.

"Fucking fantastic, bunny, God-" He pants against Y/N's hot, sweaty skin, his free hand reaching down and finding the back of her thigh, pulling it up and pressing it against her own stomach, making more way for himself. "Gonna make me cum so fast, yeah? All f'you."

Y/N can only nod her head, unable to utter any words other than loud moans, a scream escaping her throat as she feels Chris' cock press into her G-spot, stroking that spongy flesh repeatedly, feeling him in places she couldn’t before until she see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum.

"No, princess, don't hold back. Cum for me, yeah? Let me- ugh- 'lemme feel you."

And she does. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to her cunt and, even if she wants to hold a little more, she cum hard, denching his cock, his thighs, her own thighs and the whole sheets. She trembles like never before, her nails pressing into his neck, his shoulders, his back, everywhere, leaving nail trails behind, until the euphoria subsides and she goes limp, letting him use her however he wants.

"There, angel." Chris praises, large hand rubbing up and down her thighs, squeezing the warm skin. "Love the way you cum for me, y'so good at that. S’fucking heaven."

His movements increased drastically in seconds, his cock moving in and out of her swollen and red pussy repeatedly, the wet sound intensifying and echoing through the four walls, and as it increased, it also began to run out of rhythm, his instinct just chasing him own orgasm.

"Cum for me, baby. Please." Her small voice, post orgasm tone, and sounding so tired and hoarse was the snap for him.

"Fuck fuck fuck- make me cum, princ-" It was the last thing Chris could say before his words became incoherent and accompanied by moans and gasps, his hand squeezing Y/N's thigh with such force that he was sure his palm would remain drawn there.

Hot, wet jets of cum flooded Y/N's insides, painting her walls like abstract art. The girl was quick to hook her free leg around Chris's hip, pushing his ass forward and against her own body so that he stopped his movements and sank in as deep as before, a small moan escaping her lips followed by one last groan from Chris.

His left arm lost its strength and his body fell onto Y/N's, squeezing her breasts against his own chest and laying his head in the crook of her neck, exhaling the scent of post-sex and sweaty perfume that emanated from her skin.

They lay there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, sweaty bodies still connected, their chopped breaths mingling in the now quiet of the room. Y/N felt a deep sense of contentment, her heart filled with love. Chris was everything to her, and in this moment, she felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

"I love you, baby. So much." Chris pressed a gentle kiss to her jaw, his voice a soft murmur in the darkness.

"I love you much more." Y/N smiled tiredly, her chest heaving against his. "We should buy a house here." She echoed after a few minutes of silence.

Chris chuckled against her ear, shaking his head slightly, the strands of his messy brown hair spilling over the side of her face and neck with his movement.

"Anything for you, pretty girl."

© vanteguccir

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Hear me out. All the obey me characters reactions to finding out MC is a stripper/pole dancer.

(If you don't make a joke about Simeon covering Luke's ears when this is brought up, I'll be disappointed)

Now this is interesting 🤔

All obey me characters reaction to finding out MC is a stripper

All the characters had been assembled to have a dinner and small sleepover at the castle per Diavolo's request. Dinner was wonderful with some minor damage since barbatos managed to feed beel just enough to keep him satiated. It was time to sit and relax and the game truth or dare was brought up. A few rounds and it landed on Asmos he turns to MC and asks them "truth or dare?" Mc thinks for a minute and knows choosing truth is better than a dare from Asmos "Truth" they state. He thinks for a moment then grins "what's one dirty secret none of us know about you hm?" MC looks around and sighs well now seems to be the time. "I'm a stripper" they suddenly say. The whole room goes silent all for about a few seconds. Lucifer was sipping his demonous not very interested in such a childish game until of course MC spoke up and stated well uh that. He spits out his demonous and almost chokes. He was in utter shock and can't even fathom MC that way. Except oh boy he does and has to hide his red face blaming it on embarrassment for choking. Mammon immediately screams out "WHAT!?" he immediately demands where MC works what hours they do how much they get paid who have they given dances too? He keeps going on and on he is just mad at himself for not having MC to himself. Levi is all but stalled mentally. He let out a small squeak and just sits there the gears turning in his head and images of MC like that is just...wow. Satan's eyes widen "what!?" He is just shocked at first then gets mad MC would lie to him then gets sad MC wouldn't trust him enough. He did not go into a tantrum luckily but he looked like a kicked kitten now. Asmos sits there shocked for only a moment before squealing happily. Now they can bond even more! He loves pole dancing. He wonders how much money he and MC could make together. Beel drops his food and stares wide eyed and mouthed. His cheeks eventually tint red when he thinks of MC in such poses. And revealing clothing and well...he can't think much more or he will get too hungry for MC. Belphie immediately is on train with Mammon asking 300 questions and he seems more angry than anyone here only because of how possessive he is of MC. Diavolo suddenly breaks his glass from gripping it too hard. MC? In such a way? How provactive! How... sexy? His own face turns as red as his hair and he tries to look anywhere but MC. Barbatos just sighs and rubs his temples he now has to make sure Lucifer isn't dying and clean up the mess Diavolo made. Though from this new information he does quite like the images he's getting of MC through his mind. Solomon helped in covering Luke's ears yet he just grins smugly at MC "may I request a dance?" He suddenly asks and immediately gets attacked by Mammon and belphie for the comment. Simeon is about to go into cardiac arrest because not only is hearing MC doing such a sin shocking and attractive he also has to rush to make sure Luke hears nothing. Meso just laughs at Lucifer choking and then immediately panics for diavolo and his hand. He will admit he admires MC's boldness for just airing that out to everyone. Thriteen is surprised but now she wonders if she can do pole dancing as well. Could it be a bonding experience for her and MC? Worth looking into she thinks. Raphael is just straight faced but he looks tired of the chaos. Though he can't be too mad at MC for it such a sin is wrong yes but some movements make his stoic body feel something so he isn't too displeased learning this.

[iateyourparents]

Hi!!! Could you write for Jake or johnnie? For Jake him and the reader are trying food in his car during one of his lives and he keeps spilling stuff and throwing it outside, or for johnnie it could be him singing to the reader during a live and have it be all cute? Thank you!!

late night talking | j.w.

pairing: jake webber x fem!reader

summary: you can’t sleep and jake finds something to do for both of you.

warnings: the restaurant is made up by me, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: thank you! i decided to go with jake. hope you like it <33

pictures are from pinterest:)

“Jake?” you asked quietly to check if your boyfriend was asleep.

“Hm?” he mumbled while turning his body so you were face to face.

It was almost two in the morning and you just couldn’t fall asleep, you didn’t feel tired and your mind was giving you many ideas of what you could be doing right now instead of wasting time and just laying there.

“I can’t sleep.” even though Jake couldn’t see you with how dark it was, he just knew you were pouting and just an image of this in his head made him want to coo and hug you.

“Me neither.” he stated and after a moment of comfortable silence he offered “We could go for a drive.”

“Yes please.” not wasting any time you got up from the bed and went to take your hoodie, well Jake’s hoodie. Jake laughed silently but followed your lead. Soon enough you were sitting in his car driving through random streets.

After few minutes you offered “We could go live on instagram.”

Jake looked at you with w smirk “Testing food?”

“Oh my god, yes!” you loved testing food with Jake, it was always funny and somewhat cute.

Jake took his phone and gave it to you, so you could start live on his instagram.

Not even a few seconds after starting, there was already about 700 people.

“Hi guys.” you smiled widely trying to position Jake’s phone on the dashboard “We couldn’t sleep so we decided to entertain you a little.”

“Yeah, we will be trying food from somewhere.” Jake added “You can write in comments where do you think we should go to eat something.”

After few minutes of answering questions and looking through comments you drew Jake’s attention “Oh, Zola said we should try Orlando’s. It’s like a more elegant fast food, in her words.”

“Oh okay.” Jake nodded and you quickly looked for the location of said restaurant on your phone and then you gave it to Jake so he could drive you there. “Oh it’s actually really near.”

You answered some of fans’ questions while Jake drove you to your destination and then he parked near drive-thru so you could have a look on a menu.

“So it’s really late so we won’t take the whole menu but you can write your recommendations if you’ve been here before.” Jake told his viewers while you were looking at the website.

“I really want to try their apple pie.” you stated looking at the photo and then you showed it to the people on live “It looks yummy.”

Few minutes later you had your order in the car and Jake decided to park on a parking area near restaurant so you could start testing.

“What do we start with?” you asked giving him his drink.

“What do you feel like might be good?” he looked at you with a smile and kissed your cheek.

“Hm… This pizza smells good.” you stated and he took pizza box on his laps. He opened it and showed it to viewers.

“Smells good but looks are 4/10.” he decided and you definitely agreed. This pizza didn’t look the best. “Let’s try it.”

And let’s just said, Jake ended up throwing pizza, nuggets, two pies and milkshakes out of the car.

“At least fries were good.” you shrugged hugging Jake’s arm. He kissed your forehead.

“So we definitely don’t recommend this restaurant. If you like it then you have shitty taste, literally.” you both laughed “We will be ending this live in a moment and go to eat something actually edible but thank you for being with us.”

“But no thanks to the person who made us eat this shit.” you joked and Jake giggled.

“See you soon guys.” Jake ended the live and hugged you “Let’s just go home and make cocoa hm?”

“Yes please.” you yawned and buckled yourself after kissing Jake.

Soon you were in your apartment cuddling on the couch with Jake and sipping hot cocoa.

“We kind of wasted night for this shitty food.” Jake pouted placing his head on your shoulder.

“We did, but I could waste all my nights like this with you.” you pecked his lips.

You liked sleepless nights like this.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

”Hey, Coach! Wait up!”

Roy purposefully did not wait up, but kept striding down the corridor away from the festivities slowly dying down in the dressing room as the players prepared to head on to whatever celebrations they’d got lined up for the afternoon. Part of Roy still thought that half a day off for Christmas was disturbingly generous, but another part of him – one that had spent quite a lot of time in Dr. Sharon’s office these past few months – had to admit that the mini break seemed to bring a welcome energy boost to everyone, including the player who didn’t actually do Christmas.

He’d almost made it to the exit when Jamie caught up with him, throwing his gaffer a reproachful look as he pushed a stray stand of hair out of his eyes. “Jesus, Roy,” he complained. “Who died and made you the Grinch? Wouldn’t have fucking killed you to stand still for two seconds.”

“My sister’s working, and I promised I’d pick Phoebe up by two.” To be fair, it was only gone half twelve and he wasn’t in a rush, but making Jamie run was its own reward.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, okay.” Jamie nodded, falling into step as Roy pushed the door open and headed out into the windy December day.

When he didn’t immediately follow that up with anything else, Roy gave him an annoyed glare that was almost entirely sincere. “Did you fucking want something?” he asked meaningfully.

Jamie’s eyebrows shot up, as if he’d legitimately forgotten about his errand and was content to just enjoy Roy’s company (a notion that, while no longer quite new, still occasionally hit Roy as a football to the face, leaving him feeling all sorts of strange). ”Oh, right,” Jamie said. “Yeah. Mum and Simon’s come down since I can’t go home ‘cause of the game tomorrow, and Simon’s going to be making enough food for, like, half the team, so… ”

“So what?” Roy demanded, not so much because he didn’t get what Jamie was getting at – he wasn’t that thick – but to buy himself a second to process the whole thing. Also, image.

Jamie shrugged, as always undeterred by Roy’s barking. “I dunno. Maybe you bring Phoebe over to my place. Have dinner with us.” He grinned, clearly enjoying whatever faces Roy was making. “Mummy insisted. Said it’d be rude not to invite me best friend.”

“I’m not your best friend.”

“Yeah, I know, mate. You’re not mine either. But as I said, Mum insisted.” He smiled again, just as widely and wickedly, but for a fleeting moment, there was a trace of uncertainty in his grey eyes. “C’mon. You know Mum and Phoebe will get on like a house on fire.”

Roy could imagine it only too well. Between them and Jamie, he had a feeling he’d be outmanoeuvred at every turn.

Oddly enough, the notion wasn’t quite as unappealing as it ought to have been. And it’d probably help take Phoebe’s mind off having to spend yet another Christmas Day without her own mother.

“I’ll ask Phoebe,” he hedged. Partly because it really was the decent thing to do, not dragging her off to somewhere on Christmas Day without her agreeing to it, and partly because it meant he could safely blame her if they ended up going.

“Mint.” Jamie smiled, pleased. “Keeley’s coming, too.”

“What?” Roy’s eyes snapped to his face. “You could have fucking led with that.”

“Nah. Wanted to make sure you said yes for me and not for her, yeah?”

“You’re an idiot,” Roy told him. “And I haven’t said yes yet.”

Jamie made a thoughtful face. “Who’s the more idiotic, the idiot or the one who spends his Christmas with the idiot?” he pondered aloud, and then – completely ignoring Roy’s second point – added, “See you later, Coach. Mum said not to bring anything, but she likes them half-sweet wines from Germany, yeah?”

And before Roy had time to repeat that he hadn’t actually agreed to come, you muppet, Jamie had sauntered over to his own car, looking so happy it made Roy’s heart do weird fucking things.

Oh, well, Roy thought, getting into this own care turning the ignition on. He’d pass by a Sainsbury on the way from to Jamie’s place that ought to be open for another few hours yet. He could pick up a couple of bottles of Rieslings there.

[mushysquashythingamajig]

Bucktommy Charity Relay

The Fluff

For the @bucktommycharityrace I prepared 3 fics (fluff, smut and angst respectively) that I'll hopefully post throughout the day. This is so that everyone can read whatever their mood aligns with.

It will be really, really appreciated if you can donate to Lambda Legal here or if you can't just reblog to give it a signal boost so others can. This is an awesome event for a good cause and I'm really proud of the little space that we've built together. I hope y'all enjoy the fic.

~~

"A ball? What is it, the 19th century?"

A ball. The city had organised a small charity balls and the 118 was chosen to be a part of it, obviously.

"Technically balls originated in the middle ages, at least that's what the text says. So they're much older."

"Thanks, Buck. I didn't need to know that. Anyway, who else is gonna be there?"

"Seems like it's just a charity gala." Bobby replied, skimming over the invitation.

"So rich people?"

Bobby nodded and everyone on the table groaned. Seems like everyone has had to deal with a rich, privileged snobs before.

"Is there gonna be dancing?" Eddie interrupted the complaints.

"Looks like it."

"Well, I'm out." Chim gave up immediately, "I'm terrible at dancing. My wife and I almost broke each other's toes during dance rehearsals. And besides, Maddie's well into the pregnancy. She can't dance, and I'm not leaving her."

"Okay, Chim. The rest, you all are coming with."

Another series of groans erupted from the table. Evan did not share their sentiments. He was kind of excited. Except the rich snobs. And the-

"Hey, Buck. Are your dancing skills the same level as your sister's. If yes, than tell Tommy to wear his steel toed shoes."

Buck ignored the laughs around the table because in all honesty, Chim was right. He remembered sometimes when Maddie and Buck used to be alone in the house, they used to dance in the living room and Buck can't count the amount of unintentional smacks and toe-stepping that occurred.

Pulling out his phone, he shot Tommy a quick message.

Hey you know how to dance right?

~~

"This is stupid." Tuns out Evan did stomp on feet like no other. And somehow had zero rhythm too.

"Hey, it's okay. Just be patient, we'll learn okay?"

The 'thirty minutes and we'll be done' lesson had consumed most of their free time together and frankly Evan was over it.

"Y'know, I can just stand near the food table while you dance with someone good. This is pointless."

"Evan. Don't discredit yourself. At least now you're not stepping on my toes every second step."

"I can't understand if you're being sarcastic or genuine."

"Can't I be both?" Tommy snarked.

"You're an oxymoron, emphasis on the moron."

"Okay, let's take a brake, you're getting bitchy."

Tommy deserved the smack upside his head.

Evan collapsed in the chair, exhausted from the extensive dance lessons his boyfriend had made them goo through. Tommy somehow was still energetic, skipping slightly as he pulled the orange juice out of the fridge. Pouring two glasses, he slid one right in front of Buck, kissing his temple. If Evan giggled, no he didn't.

"My offer for you to dance with someone as good as you still stands." Buck reminded him.

"Either I dance with you or I don't dance at all." Tommy declared.

"How about we don't dance at all?" Buck proposed.

"Ooh, I don't think so. Come on Len Goodman, let's get you ready for the dance floor." He stood up, holding his hand out for his boyfriend.

"I don't even know who that is." Buck chuckled as he let himself get pulled up.

~~

"You know I'm probably gonna embarrass the hell out of you today." Buck tried to warn Tommy. He'd been sort of a debbie-downer regarding the ball. He should really stop. Tommy was probably getting tired of the self loathing.

"So? I don't care. If you do something embarrassing, I'll do something twice as embarrassing like, try to do a backflip and wreck my shit on the dance floor."

The image of Tommy trying a backflip and falling face first was funny even if it did make Evan cringe a bit. Knowing Tommy, he'd get it in the first try though. His boyfriend was just that good.

Tommy's suit was not that special, but seeing Tommy wear it, that man could make anything runway worthy. The shirt was stretching over his chest and the coat framed his back and waist nicely. Not to mention the snug pants which framed his ass and turned more than a few heads. Whatever, he was tapping that. And topping- Anyway.

Tommy moved in front of him, bowing slightly and put out his hand.

"May I have this dance?" Tommy spoke in a faux British accent.

Controlling his laughter, he replied,

"Of course."

At least his accent was a bit more believable.

Tommy's hand fitted against Tommy's back like it was made to be there. Their feet were finally moving in tandem and Evan was proud to admit that he only stepped on Tommy's feet twice. He tried to apologise but the way Tommy was looking at him made him swallow his words. Never had Buck been looked at with so much devotion, so much love. It made him squirm in his shoes. He wanted to run around, scream at the top of his lungs, YOU SEE THAT GORGEOUS MAN OVER THERE? HE LOVES ME. HE KNOWS ME AND HE LOVES MY ANYWAY.

"Hey, you're getting into your head again." Tommy pulled him out of his thoughts. He had an uncanny ability to sense when Evan was spiraling.

"I love you." He blurted out.

Seeing Tommy's smile, his nose scrunching up, the wrinkles and Evan wanted to take a picture of it and store it right next to his heart so that he could keep it safe. And he could have this anytime he wanted. He was truly the luckiest man in the world.

"That was random. You know I love you too. I love you, Evan." Tommy tilted his head before smiling.

Grinning, Evan gently cradled his head before diving in, pressing his lips to Tommy's until they were both out of breath.

"Get a room, you two." Hen heckled from the side, forcing the two of them to pull away.

"Are you okay, Evan?" Tommy checked in.

Lets see. His sister was about to give birth to his nephew. He had a beautiful family. He had a beautiful boyfriend. Maybe something more in the future. Yeah, his life was perfect, the kind only shown in movies.

"Nothing, just overwhelmed with happiness."

Tommy gave him another smile and a peck before pulling him towards the food.

"Okay, I'm starving."

[mingsolo]

hot and buttered

mingi x reader (f) / g: established relationship, smut / wc: 813 / warnings: cursing, masturbation (both), phone sex, semi public sex but not rly / r: 18+

another tipsy drabbles log :^)

Mingi couldn't believe it.

You said you will be there for the birthday party his mom had prepared for him. It was a little early from his actual birthday, sure, but it was a party for his special day anyways.

A few miles away, you hurriedly finish getting ready,  you know Mingi´s now sulky about you not being able to make it to his parents house, but this client was important and if you didn't go personally to sign things up apparently, it was a deal breaker for them.

Before leaving for the meeting you call him, trying to sound innocent and sweet but the pout on Mingi´s lips was palpable even from the other side of the phone. 

“After this I'll get a few weeks off and we can celebrate for sure! I promise, your birthday isn't coming until next week” 

“Yeah I know…¨Mingi sounded defeated on the other line. “But my mom really wanted you here, and i really miss you…¨

You recognized the tone, his already low tone went lower and he dragged his words, which honestly just made you instinctively rub your tights together. You glance at the clock, you have some time to make it up for him, only a little.

“Mingi, are you alone?” you heard Mingi groan softly, and the sound of his steps hurriedly going somewhere. 

“Mingi! Don't be late, the food is almost ready, is yn getting here soon?” 

The voice of Mingi´s mom sounded in the background, Mingi replying to her a hasty “I'm going to change mom, i'll be outside in a minute!” made you smile. You lay on the bed, waiting for him to get to whatever he wanted to go to, probably his childhood bedroom.  “I'm here, yn?” 

“I'm here too, tell me what you´ ve been thinking?” 

Mingi whispers. “You here, with me. In my bedroom. You touch me, licking me…¨he stops and groans. “I'm sorry I'm just… I need you”

“It's fine love, I'm here to help you not miss me so much, again, I'm sorry I can't be there today, but ill make it up for you meanwhile, can you lay down for me on your bed?¨ Mingi swallows and you can hear him shifting his position. “Good. now I'm thinking how much I wish to sit between your legs and take in my mouth, you must be so hard right now” Mingi moans, the sounds of his hands on his length pumping slowly are unmistakable. “Imagine how i'd look while i suck you off so good, licking my lips as i get some air, you know how much i struggle to take you whole”

“Fuck” Mingi groans, the palming noises are faster. “Yes, I love that sight, you always do so well” 

Your hands slowly go down the hem of your skirt, slowly rubbing circles over your clit until Mingi´s whimpers and moans get impossible to resist, and you whine wishing you were indeed sucking him off right now. You slide one finger and then another, as his breathing gets more agitated. 

“How many fingers?” he asks plainly, and you bite your lip. He knows you too fucking well. Knows you can't resist his voice more than he can resist yours. 

“Two” you whine, pressing another. “Imagine me licking you, suckign you, as much as i can, you will probably make me choke if im not careful, you so fucking big you know?” you breathe, trying to pace yourself to finish aligning Mingi, who´s wet stroking sounds become louder by the second. 

“When i got back home, ill fuck you so good”

You hummed in response, a moment of silence of just both your breathing and whimpering filled the line that connected you. 

“I'm not resisting anymore… please, let me…” Mingi pleaded. “Please come with me, yeah?” 

“Where do you want it?” the words easily slipping form you, imaging it was his cock and not your fingers inside you. 

“All over you, please just let me…” a loud whine stopped Mingi mid sentence, alongside a loud bang that made you pop your eyes open. 

“Mingi! The food is ready and everyone is waiting outside!¨

“Fuck… “ he whispered, both breathless and annoyed. “One minute, I'm changing!¨´

You laughed loudly. The knot on your stomach evaporated as soon as you heard Mingi´s mom's voice but it made you laugh imagining how much of a mess Mingi would be in this moment. 

“Love, are you alright?” 

“Pff fuck, i made a fucking mess……. not the lamp!” Mingi giggles. You both laughed, embarrassed and amused. “I'm sorry about that, i'll tell everyone you couldn't make it… and, make it up for you as soon as I get home”

“I'm sure you will, I miss you so much” 

“I love you yn, so fucking much” you hear kissing noises on the other side.

“Oh Mingi, I do too.” 

[uniquevoidflowers]

@luna-loveboop

Even though the other eras were of smaller scale than what he was used to, he was still eager to explore them. The plants and fauna, the creatures and layout—even the air—all felt different. It filled him with a rush of excitement similar to what he experienced when he had woke up.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” The traveller hero asked as soon as they had stepped foot in the rancher’s era. 

“Hell yes,” Wild responded, unhooking his slate from his side.

With one mischievous glance at the group, they slipped away into what Twilight dreamily called ‘Faron Woods’. It was a lush and peaceful forest, blanketed by towering trees and flowing waterfalls. It was more alive than the most vivid parts of his Hyrule, which was saying something. 

“Look!” Hyrule exclaimed suddenly, and pointed at the bushes.

He peered over and grinned, snapping a picture with the slate. It was a small, green bug. Maybe a restless cricket?

Once he switched to the compendium it told him it was not a cricket but a grasshopper. The description was short and straight to the point, leaving him wondering more. “A…grasshopper,”  Hyrule read slowly. “Huh.”

Blonde hair swayed as she whirled around. “Link! Look closely, over here!”

A small golden insect, twitching. She beamed at him and words poured off her tongue with ease, flowing like an endless river. “Normally a grasshopper isn’t something I’d be overly ecstatic about. I believe there’s more to learn about them of course, however, I know enough for my curiosity to be satiated.”

He quirked an eyebrow and she flicked him in the forehead. “Yes, surprising I know. Anyway, it seems that this little one here is a golden colour! A gold insect is incredibly rare and is often searched for to be sold for a high price. Oh! Remember the frog I caught earlier?”

She giggled at the expression on his face, and he mourned the food he’d stuffed hastily into his mouth earlier. “It’s never been tried before, but don’t you suppose that these golden insects might have effects when consumed? We could improve potions even more, and revitalize wounded soldiers in battle.”

She lunged for the insect, but it was too swift, escaping her clutches. She wiped her hands on her pants and gave a long suffering sigh. “Ugh, so close. I could’ve made history! You see, these little insects have reappeared in records for years…beyond the Calamity’s first appearance. It’s always a mystery how they survive, since there are so few and they always get fewer.”

Suddenly she paused, wilting. “I’ve begun to rant once more, haven’t I? My apologies. We should probably continue our travels.”

He shook his head and spoke, voice hoarse and gravelly from underuse. “I don’t mind, Your Highness.”

Her pointed ears tinged red, eyes wider but freer. “Oh…Very well.”

Then those bright green eyes lit up, and she curled her lip playfully. “You wouldn’t mind hearing about my recent studies of the guardians then, right?”

He smiled, mirthful as she launched into an explanation about Sheikah parts and designs and many other details. 

The image rippled, fading away and he smelled sea foam. The traveller was pouring magic into him, trying to heal something that wasn’t broken. Wild assured, “I’m okay. Just a memory.”

A surprisingly light one too…and he spoke! He’d never heard himself speak in one before, and Flora’s diary didn’t count. “Okay,” Hyrule pulled his hands away and then gasped. “Another one!”

He hurried to look over. The second grasshopper was golden. “We’ve got to catch it,” The champion smirked, bag at the ready. 

“New recipe? I’ve never seen you put bugs in a meal before.”

“Hylia, no. The ranch-hand would have my head if I tried to put another bug in his food.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“Good point,” Wild laughed and crouched down.

He approached the insect slowly. Then he leaped forward and wrapped it in his hands, hurrying to put it in his bag.

Flora would love it, he was sure. 

[lamemaster]

Accidental Father Acquisition

Requst: Ritual gone wrong with celebrimbor! I've been playing shadow of mordor and I just love him. What's more spooky than being bonded to a ghost? I'm not saying it has to follow the plot lines of the games at all, I'm just inspired/going for the vibes of that.

Pairing: Celebrimbor x Reader

Genre: Crack/ found family

Summary: From death by banner to an expecting mother, Celebrimbor's plot was insane.

AN: This is bonkers. Proceed with caution. Also, Shadow of Mordor Celebrimbor is the definition of how I imagine elves to look like so I feel ya anon.

Celebrimbor blinked once. Close his eyes and shook himself awake once again. Wait, why was he closing his eyes like a mortal? 

The huge bump still lay in front of his vision. His bump to be exact. A feeling of faint disbelief makes him swoon only for a tiny kick to stop his dissent. 

That is when he hears a small fleeting thought of incoherent hunger. The child was hungry. He noted distantly. The child inside him. Inside the body that now belonged to him.

What in the Timeless Halls was this? 

“That’s my body dipshit,” The baby- no, another voice intercepts his thoughts. Another annoyed raspy voice. “Yes, it is I, your summoner. If only I had known that the spirit I get would be an equal mess.” The voice grumbled and an image of a human woman materialized in his mind, no in the woman’s mind that was now his? Or was it his mind in the woman’s body? 

“You are human.” He whispers out loud to which the voice scoffs. “Yes, Einstein. I am a woman.” It You answer and Celebrimbor cannot bring himself to ask more about Einstein. He got the gist of it. “Didn’t you know who you were answering to when you walked your grand self into my circle?”

He had no idea how he was here in the first place. One second he was a banner on Sauron’s battlefield and another, he woke up with a child. And not even in his body. Was this another of Sauron’s baffling visions? 

“Holy hell dude, that’s some graphic shit. Did no one tell you to not traumatize expecting mothers?” You cringe covering your eyes. Only then does Celebrimbor realize that his thoughts were now projected to you and the child. With a wince, he turns his thoughts to pressing matters.

“Where am I?” He asks the mortal woman lounging in the shared mental palace. 

“In my summoning circle. That I made for a bargain. Not the body swap legenderia.” You shift trying to sit comfortably, failing to do that like a practiced dance that led to a string of curses every time. “Pregnant women can’t be comfortable even in their thoughts.” You sigh looking at the lost elf. 

Celebrimbor, as if spurred into action, adjusts the cushion that materializes into the thin air just as he thinks about it. Helping you lean comfortably, he relishes in the sleepy murmurs of the child now content as its mother. 

“Why did you summon me?” He sits next to you, feeling the fatigue from the human body. It’s heaviness he found himself unused to given that his jump had been from his elven form to a heavily pregnant woman. 

You look at him scrutinizing him. Much to your disappointment, your summoned one ended up in your body instead of coming in a much-desired combat-enabled form. But for some absurd reason, you do not feel anything. Not the despair of a failed ritual or the shock of having a chat with the elf who now seemed to be in charge of your body. Only the everlasting urge to pee persists.

“I did it for revenge. The original plan was to find something sinister enough to mess up the man who left me in this state.” You point to your belly. “Left us hungry, begging for food. I wanted to make him suffer. Make him hate his life. But the kid got scared. It held on to your soul instead of whatever monstrosity I had asked for from Gothmog.” Celebrimbor blinks, his mouth agape. 

On any other day, he would’ve been enraged, mad at the careless Eru-forsaken woman who did not once care for her child, the idiot human. He perhaps would have, had her child taken away the second it was born. Yet, now he could not help but look at you, at himself in the mirror, and see the scrawny human stare back. Calouse hands, slouched shoulders, and fragments of a nightmare he did not pry into. Of the rights and wrongs of this world, how would he judge someone who had let go of everything? Who had been robbed of everything and was still expected to love. 

His despair was hers, and hers was his. Pain of betrayal, of pain, of scorn, shame, and guilt. All he knew too well. “You could have killed the child,” he whispers looking at you failing to sound every bit admonishing that he tries to be. “I am aware.” You reply with a stony gaze. “And the child will die of hunger either way. So why not sate its blood thirst as a last favor?”

Behind all the bitter words, all he feels is gut-wrenching sorrow. Despite the righteous urge to scream at your foolishness, he only gathers a tug of unfair empathy. Of the wrongness of love that bloomed out of sorrow- for a child you desired to hate.

It was wrong. All of this. And those were your thoughts that he knew to be. Anger, love, disgust all lingered in the body Celebrimbor’s soul fell into. 

And then he does what none in the living eternity of Arda would have expected. “Is there a spell for procuring another body? I reckon a male vessel would be better.” He looks around trying to spot the spell book in your surroundings. “A vessel matching the child’s father.” He watches your eyes widen in surprise.

“Yes, page 345 goes over it.” You speak in a daze. The Child inside you waking up to kick in order to express its approval of the elf’s crazy fucking plan. 

That is how Celebrimbor the ancient elven lord, King of Eregion found himself in the body of a 25-year-old man named Thomas Duffy. A miraculous plane crash survivor. 

That is how the line of Feanor continues in your world. With your firstborn daughter, who was born with glimmering eyes for unexplainable reasons, and your twins, who possessed uncanny pointed ears. 

Celebrimbor, the name, felt ancient in the tales that he told to his daughter. Your daughter, who had pulled him into her world, away from the pain and death of his world. Away from oaths, dark lords, and dooming jewelry. And Celebrimbor had clung to her mercy. 

In this world, his fate was not of extravagant creations or becoming the doom of the entire world. In this world, most crises were limited to the principal's office visits for his twins. Or your pregnancy mood swings.

Never in the history of the world had been struck a bargain so pleasant. A bargain where nothing was lost.