#They Break Each Other and then Put Each Other Back Together

[lighting-and-shadow]

Ikigai, Part 8

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

The walk to Sylus’ room is reminiscent of one to the gallows. You’ve seen those walks in people’s souls, how each step makes their throat tighten more and how they seem to mentally wait for each heartbeat to come. Like every step or every breath or ever beat is going to be their last.

That’s the only way you can think of to describe how you feel right now. A place that once meant safety and comfort to you has been tainted. It’s been warped, smeared, and destroyed in a way that a you from a few weeks ago would’ve never imagined.

Because now, you’re walking there with fear. Fear of Sylus of all people. Your partner in crime. Your confidant. Your closest friend. Your Morana.

You don’t want to think of him this way. Far from it. But Miss Hunter’s words, her shaky tone and fidgety hands, make you this way. The chaos of emotions in her threads make you this way. Everything about how she was when describing her time with Sylus make you this way.

Modification of her Evol.

You know very well what those words mean. You know what it looks like, feels like. You know all of this because it’s woven into her soul.

And her own soulmate tried to do that to her. Tried to split her open. Try to warp her and smear her and destroy what makes her her.

Rage and betrayal and whole other slew of emotions boil up inside of you. Each step makes you wonder when you’ll explode, when you’ll break from all of this.

You try to combat this with each breath. Each deep, hard-fought, breath. You try to embrace a wave of calm, to tamper down the craziness and be who you normally are: in control.

Nothing helps. Nothing works. And before you know it, you’re knocking at that accursed bedroom door.

Since when am I so polite with him?

A weak laugh escapes your lips. You stifle it down the moment the door begins to open.

Sylus is disheveled, an odd sight for someone who can look put together even in the middle of a gun fight. He just stares at you. His eyes refuse to leave yours, as if you’ll vanish if he so much as blinks.

It’s awkward, strained. An uncomfortable atmosphere that hasn’t been between you two in years. You can’t stand it.

“May I come in? I believe we have some things to discuss.”

Sylus says nothing. He looks deeply uncomfortable. It’s subtle, something most wouldn’t notice. But you’ve known him far too long. The slight flicker in his eyes down to the way he walks tells you everything. He’s off. He’s lost.

Not that you’re much different. Your tone earlier was cold, professional, and distant. Entirely lacking the usual playfulness or joy you’d have from simply interacting with Sylus.

You quickly step in his room once he moves aside for you. You don’t spare Sylus a glance. Any further looks would just deter you from your task.

This cannot go on.

Sylus’ treatment of Miss Hunter weighs on you. If you thought it was bad before, it’s far, far, worse now. Experiments? Changing her Evol? Scaring her so much she subconsciously rejects her own soulmate?

It’s arguable the worst start to any love story you’ve ever heard or seen. And you have more experience with that than anyone. You see them in every thread. You hear them in every soul.

All except mine.

You stare at Sylus’ empty bed to distract yourself from that rabbit hole of emotions, one you’re familiar with. You walk towards the bed. But you don’t sit on it. Rather, you just trace mindless patterns into the sheets to calm yourself.

Eventually, you turn to face the man whose room you stand in. Sylus stands with his back on the door. The lock is turned shut. And his arms are crossed, as if he’s shielding himself from you.

Since when were you two like this: weary and afraid of one another? After the argument today? After the one a few days ago? When Miss Hunter arrived? Or was it always there, brewing silently beneath your soft touches and charming smiles?

Whatever the case, you’ve never quite felt such distance from Sylus. You stand in the same room you two have shared for god knows how long, looking right at each other. And yet, you couldn’t be farther apart.

You tap your fingers on the bed like you did the night before Miss Hunter arrived. Tap. Tap. Tap. It’s the only sound that fills your ears until Sylus finally speaks.

“Can I explain now?”

To anyone else, his tone would be calm, demanding, and dripping with that usual hint of arrogance that he has. To you, he practically begs. Screams, even.

He only does that rarely. Like earlier today during your argument after your collapse. Which, given that specific context, made sense. Sylus was out of rhythm. His emotions were chaotic. He does care for you, after all. And you had just screamed your lungs out and passed out in front of him.

Who wouldn’t be shaken by that even a little?

You think over your next words for a moment, pushing that memory of your mind. What is there to explain? You’ve heard everything from Miss Hunter. You know what he tried to do.

Old wounds open up the more you think about it. The pinpricks of needles. Your home becoming a revolving door of doctors when you had no sign of a soulmate by age 10. The increasing prevailing sense of something being wrong with you the longer it went on.

They’re phantom pains, echoes of a past that only emerges when you sleep. They’re ghosts you tell no one about. They’re wounds that only you have ever dressed.

What was done to you was done in good faith. Much like what Sylus did. You could see it in his soul, see it in his thread. And it told you he wanted her to remember. He wanted his sorceress back at any cost.

But you wanted here his words. His interpretations and thoughts from his own mouth.

“Go ahead,” you gesture with your hand.

So Sylus does explain. Just not what you thought he would.

He goes into detail about his deal with Miss Hunter. About the brooch. About her search. About the twins and their pranks. About everything.

You look at him with scrutinizing eyes. You don’t search his soul; you have no need to.

In him, you find the truth and only the truth. You find no deception, no hidden meanings, nothing. It’s probably the most honest he’s been with you since Miss Hunter’s arrival.

“I never even had the brooch on me,” he chuckles a bit before he continues. “I don’t know why she ever thought I did.”

“Then where is it?”

“In your favorite book. On page 70. You know the scene.”

You absolutely do know the scene. It makes you smile even in this moment.

“Seriously? How on Earth do you expect her to know anything about my taste in literature?”

“You two spend so much time together I figured you were “besties” by now,” he says the words a great amount of sarcasm that makes you relax a bit.

It’s not much. But, you lean into the familiarity.

“Besides. Even if she didn’t know the significance of the book, I thought I’d do her a favor and introduce her to something good to read. She claims to be bored during her time here, and I wanted to be a more gracious host.”

You snort at his comment. Sylus tilts his head at you.

“What?”

You want to say, ”A gracious host? After kidnapping her and threatening her and almost turning her into a lab rat for the second time in her current life?” But you shake your head and say nothing.

Sylus seems to brush it off. His eyes soften and he takes a step towards you. When you don’t move away, he comes even closer, standing beside the foot of the bed while you stand in the same position next to the head.

“That’s all there is to what you saw. It wasn’t,” he pauses for a moment, searching for the words. “It wasn’t anything like you thought it was. Just a series of… interesting events.”

You just nod once more, turning your head to the bed again. You go back to tracing patterns in it, trying to rally yourself for the real conversation.

“Gamayun?”

You give him a quiet hum, but you don’t look up at him. You trace words into the bed, words from the scene of the book he placed the brooch in. They comfort you.

“Say something?”

You say nothing.

“What’s got you so quiet? Normally you talk my ear off, even when I’m being a fool.”

You make a hasty drag against the sheets, and the irritating sound that follows shocks both of you.

“Because I’m not here about what you just talked about and you know it.”

Or, at least, he should know it. He should know that him taking Miss Hunter to Philip is why you’re here. He should know why you’re so angry about him doing that. He should know.

He should know because he knows you were the one to find the twins. Two boys in agony, one covered in crystals. Children suffering because of selfish adults. Just like Sylus did. Just like Miss Hunter did. Just like you did.

The logical part of you knows that his goals for what he did weren’t anything like the ones that got the twins in that state. But, the other part of you, the one that made you come here, won’t listen.

That part of you remembers all those doctors. It remembers the padded rooms and the repeated cycles of accusations. It remembers the fear. It remembers the pain. And it remembers when you finally decided to run from all that.

That part of you is loud. It’s loud, it’s obnoxious, and it wants to cry. It wants to shed vicious tears and wretched sobs. But it doesn’t. It can’t. Because it wasn’t listened to in the past.

Why would this time be any different?

Because Sylus isn’t them, you remind yourself.

He’d listen to you. He has to listen to you. Sylus is a flawed man, not a monster. He’s a desperate and flawed man who just wants the love of all his lives back. He’s a desperate and flawed man who made a mistake.

And he has to know that, right?

“Than why are you here right now, my sweet Gamayun? Surely not to repeat the earlier interesting series of events? Or maybe go even further?”

“You’re deflecting,” you say immediately.

His usual jokes don’t make you flustered. Instead, they make you angrier as he avoids what you need yet again.

“That’s not an answer, sweetie.”

Something in you snaps. Maybe it’s the use of an old nickname. Maybe it’s due to another deflection. Maybe it’s both.

Either the case, you finally address the dreadful elephant in the room, “Why did you bring her to Philip?”

You ask because you want him to admit it himself. Hearing him say the words, the man you’ve loved for over a year, rather than Miss Hunter, the soulmate of said man, will makes things clearer.

Maybe it’ll undo the knot in your stomach and the dread that courses through your veins. Maybe his explanation will make the phantom needles go away, and drown out the screams of your precious boys.

Part of you knows that neither will happen. The other, more optimistic and the one that clings to your love, begs for something otherwise.

All that hopes drains away when you see the color leave Sylus’ face. His color seeps away at the same pace as your fleeting hope.

Oh God, what did you do, Sylus?

Miss Hunter didn’t give you any details. You can only speculate. But with this severe of reaction, especially coming from Sylus (who’s done a lot of questionable shit that he knows you’d never judge him for), you’re not sure you can handle the answer.

Miss Hunter avoiding your questions and looking apprehensive to tell you anything is one thing. Sylus doing it is a whole other can of worms. You steel your heart for whatever happens next.

“We weren’t resonating. I thought there was a problem with her. There isn’t, so we left.”

It’s about the same thing she told you. Enough to give you the gist. Enough to explain her fear and her discomfort. But not enough to explain Sylus’. Not nearly enough, given everything he’s seen and been through in both of his lives.

So you push, “Did you two rehearse your excuses, or did you both conveniently give me the same nonsense in hopes I wouldn’t press? Whatever the case, you ought to practice lying to me better.”

Sylus appears unaffected by your words. You, of course, know better. The slight knit of his brows, the way he holds himself and leans a tad more to one side. He’s so obvious to you that it’s painful.

“You really going to lie to me again, Sylus? After what happened last time?”

That full on makes him flinch. Your heart wavers as a result. That was a low blow. You both know that. And yet, you can’t back down. Because all you can see in your mind’s eye is the twins.

Luke trying to claw at his face, to etch in the same scars his brother carries. Kieran forcing himself to grow up even more as a result of that instability. The way they would both duck from mirrors, or even flat out shatter them, during those first few days.

Dozens and dozens of memories like that just sit in your mind. A weight unlike any weight you’ve ever carried. It festers there. It seeps into your veins, into your heart, and into your words.

You can’t escape it.

“What exactly are accusing us of, sweetie? Be specific. You how I hate to beat around the bush, and waste time.”

You do. And that’s exactly why you’re the negotiator of this business and not him.

Soon, she will take that place. Soon, I’ll need a new role in a new place.

“Is there anything in particular I should be accusing you of?” You counter.

“Not in my mind,” he glances you over from head to toe. “But that seems to be the case in your mind.”

A smirk crosses his lips. It’s not one of humor.

He words hit you to the core.

“That’s not an answer,” you shakily manage to get out.

“Well, if my answers aren’t satisfactory, maybe you can give me a direct question? As you say, it’s harder to avoid something if there’s no room to do so.”

That stupid smirk is still there. His eyes are still cold, colder than you’ve ever seen them directed at you.

“Did you or did you not hurt her?” You tone gets firmer the more you speak.

Sylus’ expression changes again. Not to one of humor or playfulness or anger like you expected. No, the Sylus before you was none of those right now.

He was betrayed.

“Who exactly do you think I am?”

“I don’t know!” You finally raise your voice despite all efforts not to. “I don’t know… why do you think I’m here? I need answers, Sylus. I need conformation that I’m missing something and that you didn’t do what I think you did.”

You pause for a moment, choking on your own words and emotions, “I need the truth from you. Please. I need the truth about this at the very least.”

Sylus says nothing for a moment. And you worry that this’ll be a rehash of your first fight. The fight that broke you. The fight that drove you away.

“My relationship to her isn’t your problem.”

Suddenly, you feel sick. But then, Sylus finally says something and you chase that nausea away, kicking it down with your professionalism.

“I want her gone,” he says with an odd amount of levity. “She isn’t worth the trouble she’s causing, so I pushed my plans forward ahead of schedule.”

You don’t entirely know what to say to that.

“Pardon?” You laugh a deranged laugh. “You brought her here. Why ever would you want her gone now after no progress on what ever it is that you need from her?”

“Like I said: she isn’t worth the effort. And I refuse to waste my time on useless things.”

“Useless? You have the gall, the absolute audacity, to call her useless?”

You aren’t yelling, despite how much you want to be. And that want gets stronger the amused Sylus appears.

“Why do you care so much about her, sweetie? She’s my guest, not yours.”

”Because she’s your soulmate. Because she’s the key to your happiness,” is what you want to say.

Instead, what comes out is, “Because I’ve become quite attached to her. And I find your attitude towards her appalling.”

“Of course you would, sweetie,” his voice gets quieter and softer. “Of course you would.”

Sylus gets close to you, putting his fingers beneath your chin and tilting your head upwards. You don’t resist; in fact, you embrace the small touch as much as possible.

“Because you have such a bleeding heart.”

You roll your eyes at him. Normally, Sylus says that to tease you. Like on negotiations where you spare the business partner in question. Or when you talk him down from simply killing his opponent and into seeing their usefulness. Or any of the numerous times you’ve brought in a stray animal and nursed it back to health.

He always says it in a teasing tone, almost mocking. But now, he says it with fondness.

Or love, your delusional and desperate brain says.

As soon as that thought cross your mind, you take a step back. Sylus immediately releases his hold on your chin, disappointment flashing across his face. Or, at least, that’s what you think you see.

“My heart aside,” you say to calm yourself and get your heart to stop racing. “That doesn’t change the fact that your behavior towards her has been reprehensible. Deplorable, even.”

“Why are so obsessed with her, Gamayun? Should I be jealous? She’s been tearing us apart just by being here. Don’t tell me she’s gone even further…”

He says it with jest and usual nonchalant attitude. But something in you tells you there’s more to it.

“Because of my bleeding heart, as you say,” you smile a bit before going back to a more serious expression. “And the fact that you two seem to hold so many secrets that I’m not privy too despite your less than stellar relationship.”

Suddenly, something in Sylus changes. You can’t quite put your finger on it, other than the fact that you strangely feel like prey. Like he’s hunting you or something like that. You’re on your guard. You’re waiting for him to strike.

Sylus lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re not being truthful with me either, sweetie.”

That makes you pause.

“This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?” He takes a step closer to you, the smirk on his lips thinning and his expression shifting to a more softer one.

You don’t know exactly what’s in that smirk. Anger? Bitterness? Hurt?

Hatred? Annoyance? Grief? your thoughts whisper before you can shut them down.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Sure, sweetie,” he’s surprisingly genuine and not sarcastic with his tone. “Sure it isn’t.”

“What in the world are you going on about this time?”

Fear drips into your words. You hope it isn’t noticeable. But judging by Sylus’ face, you didn’t succeed.

I’ve lost my touch.

Being so utterly emotional for the past few days has done this to you. Made cracks in your armor that show more and more with every passing second.

Sylus reaches for you again. And you, again, accept the touch. He cradles you head, hands delicately cupping your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks in a way he knows soothes you.

Foolish man and his foolish tenderness when you’re supposed to be angry at him.

“Your obsession with her. I’ve never seen you act this way.”

You’ve never seen me try to mend the bond between someone I love and their soulmate before. But, hey, there’s a first time for everything?

“I am not obsessed. I do not do obsessed.”

Sylus frowns. You’re the one doing the deflecting now. You’re the one using humor as a distraction now.

“Than what you call all this?” He keeps stroking your cheeks with a featherlight touch.

“Care? Empathy? Because, as you know, I have a bleeding heart.”

It’s getting harder to keep your tone light. You hope that your voice never wavers. You pray that Sylus doesn’t notice how your skin warms from embarrassment or how fast your heart rate is.

You can’t even look him the eyes. And you struggle with all your might not to squirm.

“Your bleeding heart has never gone this far. Nor made you this mad at me,” the chuckle he lets out at the end of his sentence is bitter, but his eyes are still as sweet as ever.

Every statement Sylus makes feels like he’s ripping you open more and more. Like the claws of the fiend he was has made their way around the individual bones of your ribcage and is slowly but surely prying them open. It’s like he wants to expose your heart to the world.

Your brain is beginning to fog. Your mouth is beginning to dry. And the urge to run from here is getting heavier and heavier. Your feet are glued to the ground, and at the same time, they feel like they want to take flight.

When was the last time I felt this way? When I was still back home? At the jewelry store? Or maybe my old bar job?

“Well, most people I deal with are people of the N109 Zone. They’re far more secretive and, how do you and the twins put it, murderous than little Miss Hunter.”

You speak in hopes of cutting off your own horrible train of thought. It doesn’t work very well.

So you keep talking, “Speaking of Miss Hunter, I’m no closer to having an earthly idea of why she’s here. And whatever plans you have with her seem sloppy for your standards. I’d give them negative reviews. Maybe that’s why you didn’t share them with me?”

Another crack in your armor shows with your final teasing question. A crack that Sylus sees judging by how he takes his hands off your face and a step away from you.

“Than I’ll share my ideas with you to get some feedback for a better showing next time.”

You consider your words. Because this is your chance. Your chance to be in the know. The chance to know the truth. The chance to hear from Sylus’ own lips about why he brought this woman here.

But, you’ll also have to hear about their connection. Their past. And their future as soulmates.

You couldn’t hear that. You can barely think about it and see the proof with your own eyes everyday. Hearing it… well, that’s another story.

If he had offered this before their bond, you would’ve taken it. Jumped for joy, even. But you can’t now.

I can’t hear you say that you two are soulmates. I can’t hear you talk about your destined love and what that means for your future. I can’t.

Because hearing that means I can’t lie to myself any longer.

Hearing Sylus’ conformation means you take away that last layer of protection you have, that last bit of lies you tell yourself. Because you’ve know for years what the threads you see mean. You’ve confirmed it several times since you first saw them at age 7.

But, with Sylus, sometimes you cling to thought of being wrong. Of not seeing what you think you’re seeing. His words are all that it would take for that temporary peace to come crashing down.

Who in their right mind would do that to themselves?

“No. After all, I’m just a lowly actress in this show of ours. I’m no director.”

“Oh, you are no actress, Gamayun. If anything, you’re my director and writer. I’m merely here to finance whatever your heart desires to create. So, let us discuss our visions for Miss Hunter, and draw up a new episode this season.”

“I’d rather you consider this my resignation from that role into a new one. Because acting is starting to sound more appealing.”

Sylus pulls back. His face falls, and lets out a deep sigh that shakes you to your core.

“Than what do you want from me, Gamayun?” He pulls you close again, your head resting on his chest. “I’m so tired of fighting with you over something, someone, so trivial.”

Tired.

That one words carries so much weight. It seeps into your lonely soul.

It’s exactly how you feel. How all that’s happened recently has made you feel. How all the secrets and the soulmates and the unrequited love has made you feel.

You’ve been tired for years. For so long you no longer know what “rest” really feels like.

Tired of loving a world that would reject you in a second. Tired of holding it together. Tired of lying.

And maybe that’s why you did what you did. Maybe that’s why you hurt Sylus. Because you’re tired of always being the one to run.

People in your life drifted from you, yes. But it was always you that had to put the final nail in the coffin of your relationships.

So maybe that’s why you’re so tired. And maybe you wanted to make Sylus tired. Tired of you. So tired of you and your shit that he just turns his back on you permanently.

Tired.

“I’m tired too,” is all you can muster at the moment.

You pull back from Sylus. But not for long. As soon as you slip out of his embrace, you sit on his bed and pat the place beside you. He sits down immediately.

The way you two sit, facing each other and knocking knees together, reminds you of the position you and Miss Hunter sat in not too long ago. It warms you heart in an ironic and bitter way.

But you chase those thoughts away to focus. Focus on Sylus and focus on what you need to do right now. You take his hand, giving it light squeeze, before you look him directly in the eyes and begin speaking.

“I’m sorry,” it’s hard to get the words out, not out of pride, but out of pain. “For pulling away. For being so hostile earlier. For saying… no, threatening to leave you. And for not trusting you.”

For hurting you, and doing that so you’d chase me away. For making you believe I could just abandon you. For being jealous of you finding your destined love. For acting like a complete ass. For being hurt by some silly words.

I’m so sorry, my Morana.

“I’m sorry too.”

“For?” You press him, despite the discomfort on his face.

“For the lying. For what I said when you confronted me. For not telling you about my plans to bring Miss Hunter here. For not telling of my plans with—“

“You don’t need to apologize for that.”

The shock on Sylus’ face is evident. Even if he doesn’t completely show it.

“I’m not entitled to every little thing in your life. Just as you aren’t mine. We both need to learn to be okay with that.”

You pause before continuing, “And we both are entitled to space whenever we want and for however we want. Just as long as we communicate things.”

Sylus just nods. He squeezes your hand tighter. His eyes have his signature glimmer back. One so uniquely Sylus you don’t know how to describe it.

My selfishness dulled that glimmer.

As you and Sylus just talk for a bit, you think to yourself about your new plan.

I can’t just leave. And even with Miss Hunter as my replacement, I need a better idea for my departure. Somewhere away from the two of them, but with ties to my current life so that there’s no suspicion._  An idea hits you: Onychinus has many connections, many of which you forged yourself.

Kai did always want to recruit me. Maybe I’ll finally take her up on the offer?

Author's Note: Also, please go to the original blurb to ask to be added to the taglist (it's impossible for me to keep checking every part every time I update).

2nd Author's Note: Do you prefer long chapters or short chapters? This story will be pretty long regardless, i just want to see what people prefer.

3rd Author's Note: Ikigai, Fun Fact = I originally was going to make this a one shot (and then plot ran away after breaking my kneecaps) and one where Reader didn't realize they were dating the entire time (but I wanted Sylus to suffer more, so I just made them very touchy, but with a line in the sand).

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano, @toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia

[ivyinthesun]

Tommy Miller and his goddamn belt buckle.

Nothing makes you throb more than hearing the clink of his belt start to become unraveled. If there’s one thing about Tommy, it’s that he never leaves the house without slapping on an over sized solid metal belt buckle. You can take the man out of Texas, but you can’t take the Texas out of the man. You wouldn’t have it any other way though. It’s his signature style, and knowing that you’re the only one that gets to peel his belts off his waist at the end of the day is enough to have you clenching your thighs together. 

On your last patrol with Tommy you simply couldn’t contain yourself. Looking over at him you noticed the evening sun glow on his face, spotlighting his freckles like a showpiece. His hair messily tied back into a bun, a few defiant strands hanging out. Rifle slung across his strong back. That big belt buckle peeking out over his flannel, ever so slightly digging into his belly with each trot of his horse. God that damn buckle. Your mind had wandered, imagining what it would feel like pressed against your wet heat.

You were staring, hard. And you were caught in the act.

“Baby you’re burnin’ a hole in my face with how hard you’re starin’.”

Tommy knew though. He knew what that look meant. He’s a good man too, never keeps his girl needy and wanting.

“C’mon now honey, gonna show you a spot I think you’ll like real nicely.” The last two words came out slow and thick with a deep southern drawl.

He leads the two of you out to a small clearing in the woods, ties up each of your horses and gives them both a carrot to occupy themselves with in the meantime. Tommy takes your hand and gently tugs you so you’re following him down a man-made path. Your mind is so foggy with anticipation of what’s to come that you don’t even realize he’s stopped walking. Before you can protest, he has you up against a tree, arms caging you in, face inches away from yours.

“Y’know baby, I pride myself on being a very level headed man. But with you? Fuckin’ hell. You give me one of those looks like ya did and I’m wrecked until I can have you wrapped around me right where you belong. You feel what you do to your old man, huh sugar?”

He presses his erection into your thigh and starts attacking your lips with hungry kisses. Tommy is a man who likes to take his time. He lives to kiss, lick and grope every inch of you. Sure, he loves a good quick fuck - but to him you're something sacred that deserves to be worshiped and adored, this is a man who prefers the term "making love" because to him, that's exactly what it is. You can feel him wanting to take his sweet time with you, but right now that just simply wont do. You’re so wound up all you can think about is his heavy cock inside of you, absolutely nothing else matters. That’s when you break away from your kiss and urgently plead with him to just take you as is. His dark brown eyes lock onto yours and seem to grow a shade deeper with your request.

“As much as I love tasting that sweet cunt of yours baby, who am I to deny such a request from you huh?”

He starts frantically messing with his belt before your hands fall over his, intervening. Confusion falls over his soft features for a moment, but Tommy puts the pieces together and seamlessly reads your mind.

“Ohhh I get it now." His eyes flick to yours, pupils blown wide. A crooked and sly smirk forming. "Filthy fuckin’ girl. I see the way you’ve been starin' at my belt buckle lately. Yeah that’s it ain’t it? Well, what my baby wants, my baby gets. Fuck that’s so goddamn hot darlin', you're makin' me blush."

His calloused hands undo the button and zipper of your jeans before finding the trim of your panties and yanking both down in one fell swoop, too heated to bother taking any of your other clothes off. You watch him intently as he clicks his buckle back into place, flashes you a quick smile, and instead pulls his zipper down and takes his leaking cock out. He’s so hard and throbbing it’s almost a struggle to get all of him out and through his zipper hole. He manages though, and when he’s all done he looks at you with a devilish grin and taps at your thighs to signal he wants you to do a little jump up for leverage. You happily oblige and feel the delicious weight of him pressed against you keeping you steady.

"Atta girl. Always such a good listener f'me. You ready for this cock sweetheart? I know you are baby, just look at her drippin' wet and I ain't even done nothin'. Prettiest pussy I ever seen and shes all mine, goddamn. You have any idea what you do to me babygirl?"

After stealing a tender kiss, Tommy lifts your chin up to look at him as he starts to sink into you, eye contact never breaking. The sounds are obscene as he feeds his hungry length further inside you.

"Gonna take real good care of my baby, this is what'cha wanted yeah? Couldn't even wait till we got back to Jackson. Needed me to fill you up out here like the desperate little girl that you are, ain't that right?"

Your breath hitches as the hilt of his cock is almost completely flush with your cunt. Tommy stops and admires the view where you two are joined before sliding the last inch in, bottoming completely out and finally letting his buckle rest atop your pulsing clit. The coolness of the metal buckle rubbing against your bundle of nerves made you cry out in ecstasy. This is exactly what you craved. You knew it would feel good, but not this good. Your nails dug into the backs of his shoulders, a silent plea to get him moving, to get him fucking into you. Tommy groaned and started bucking his hips into yours with a feverish intensity you've never seen before, it was downright carnal. Both of your arousal mixing and spilling out of your hole in long strings, connecting the two of you when he pulled out and slammed back in. The friction of his buckle bumping into you combined with the sweet sting of his pounding cock made your head dizzy. Tommy was fucking you so hard you felt yourself becoming dumb in the head, nearly drooling from the sheer pleasure coursing through your body.

Between whimpers Tommy was sucking and biting on your lips, always trying to be as close as possible to you, tasting you in any way he can. Breathlessly you looked down to watch his filthy ministrations. You could see your slick coating the shiny metal of his buckle, and a small fogged over reflection of your puffy cunt getting the attention she so desperately craved. You moaned and closed your eyes, softly rolling your head back, finding purchase on the tree behind you. The sights and sounds were too much, nearly driving you to the edge.

Tommy took the opportunity to start sucking on your exposed neck before making his way up to your ear and planting a kiss just under the lobe. Always so sweet to you, even with your pants around your ankles as he tears you apart in the woods.

"You feel like heaven darlin'. Squeezin' me so tight, taking all of me like the good girl you are. Ain't gunna last much longer honey and I can tell you're barely holdin' on too. I've gotcha sweet girl, go 'head and make a mess on me, take what you need."

Tommy's words make your stomach flutter and drive you over the edge with a cry. Tears spilled out the sides of your eyes as you shake through one of the best orgasms you can ever recall having. As you start to come down from your high you grab onto Tommy's face, scrunch your eyebrows together and beg. He knows what you're begging him for, because you do this to him every damn time. Neither one of you have the self control to stop it either.

"Always such a needy little thing. Fucking you with my belt wasn't enough, you need me to fill you up too? Shit baby you know I cant ever say no to that. Dont you worry in that pretty little head of yours, 'm gonna stuff this cunt full and you're gonna take every drop of it, just like you wanted."

Tommy presses closer into you, wrapping his arms around you clinging as tightly as he can, and nudges his face into your neck. With a few more sloppy thrusts he groans through gritted teeth and comes hard and hot inside of you. Fulfilling your request, and his word. After a few moments he pulls out, the both of you sighing from the loss of contact, and starts to tidy you back up sweetly. You can start to feel his release slowly dripping out of you and falling onto the mossy floor of the woods.

"I thought I told you to take every drop of me baby girl. C'mon now don't be wasteful."

Before you can craft a snarky reply, you gasp as you feel two of his thick digits scooping his spend up from your legs, and pushing it back into your fucked out hole. He does this until every last drop is cleaned from where it leaked out, and your cunt is stuffed white with all of his come. He mumbles something along the lines of "that's more like it", and brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck them clean. The sight alone could have made you ready for round two, but the sun was setting fast and you had stupid patrol obligations to complete. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss, tongues connecting and tasting the mixture of the two of you. He helped you bring your jeans back up and into place, even fixing up your zipper and button. Tommy gently pats his hand in between your legs as a sly reminder of the fun that was just had, and starts to kiss your face again.

You walk side by side, his hand wrapped around yours as you make your way back to your horses, whose carrots were eaten long, long ago. Always the gentleman, Tommy helps you up and onto your horse before he saddles himself. You look over at him to find he's already staring at you, flashing you the biggest grin, crows feet on full display.

"Y'know, I ain't ever washing this damn buckle. Look at the shine on it now baby." He pauses and chuckles for a moment. "I've got at least 10 more I think you should polish up f'me yeah?"

Yeah. You think you can handle that.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first smut that I have ever written, so please be gentle with me haha. If you liked it let me know! I have plans to do some Tommy Miller head cannons very very soon. Gabriel Luna, the man that you are. 🫡✨

[kissandtellus]

Hiya!!!

I’ve got a request 4 you!!🥳 Would you be able to do a one-shot of brat tamer Zayne but his punishment goes a bit too far and puts MC deep into subspace, meaning Zayne has to be soft and sweet to help her out of it? Maybe some angst and comfort?

Right Here

Synopsis: Zayne’s a caring lover, even after the teasing and bratting gets the best of him after a long day at work. No matter how much he breaks you, he is sure to put you back together again.

Warnings: Hard!Dom Zayne, Overstim, Inflation(?), Choking, Dumbification, Panic Attack, Aftercare, Fluff at the end, Possible spoilers for the newest Main Story lines.

Teasing Zayne should’ve been an Olympic sport. He was not quick to anger, focusing on more quick and decisive ways of figuring out issues.

But ohhhh, you were a different story.

It started as simple teasing, then not listening to his advice on resting and then came the full on bratting.

You weren’t entirely sure how long he had you folded up like origami, or how many orgasms he had pulled from you. But now, you sat reverse-cowgirl on his lap in his bed.

Legs spread wide open in-front of the full length-when did he even order this?-mirror directly across from his bed.

Zayne had a tight grip on your waist and your hair. He pulled your head up and made you look directly at the mirror in front of you. He leaned down to your ear. “Now look yourself in the mirror. I want you to look at how much of a pathetic little brat you are.”

His fingers tightened in your locks, making sure you were still looking in the mirror. His other hand moved from your waist to your thigh. He squeezed it before moving it back to your waist. “You’re such a dirty girl. Such a pretty girl.”

You gurgled out something between words and a moan. He had you like this for hours in his home, stuffing you full over and over again. Drool and other fluids coated your body.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.” He teased, his lips close to your neck. He took the opportunity to leave more marks on your skin. He moved the hand that was on your thigh to your face. He put a finger in your mouth and forced your head back, making you look up at him.

“You’re such a mess.” He said in a breathy voice. He pulled his finger from your mouth and traced it across your face.

He leaned down to your ear again, keeping his grip on you tight. He knew you couldn’t escape his hold, even if you tried. “You’re such a dumb little girl, hm? You take instruction pretty well though,” his chuckle was low, his chest vibrating your back,” “Good girl.”

"Look at you... A Hunter reduced to nothing but a warm hole for my cock. All those brains you used to track monsters... now completely fucked out." He punctuated each sentence with a hard thrust.

His hand moved from your hair, over the swell of your chest before pressing against your stomach. He was so deep, had filled you so full of cum you swore you couldn’t escape feel is swishing inside of you.

“You wanted to be a brat all day? Look at yourself now." He growled softly into your ear. “Look how fucking pathetic you are right now—dripping with my cum, unable to even form a coherent thought."

Each thrust made her body jolt up and down in his length. “This is what happens to bratty girls... They get turned into nothing but fucktoys."

You were mumbling apologies through broken sobs and moans “S-sorry! Sorry, Doctor Zayne!”

His intelligent mind processed your broken apologies with a twisted satisfaction. Currently you were weak, submissive, and utterly dependent on him. “Shh, little slut," He whispered cruelly, gripping your hair to keep your head steady as he pounded into you.

He watched your reflection intently - your apologetic whimpers, your empty eyes, your body jerking with each deep thrust. He was breaking you perfectly - turning you from a bratty mess to an obedient, fuckable thing. "That's it... Take your punishment like a good girl now..."

Zayne chuckled at the slight swell of your stomach where his seed lay. With just the tiniest pressure, his seed leaked from around his cock and down onto the silk sheets.

You grabbed at his wrist, trying to push his hand away. "My poor little thing... So full of me already." He murmured in your ear, his large hands gripping your hips tightly as he slowly moved her up and down his thick length. He knew you were sensitive, but he couldn't stop himself from marking you further.

You gave another cry, panting, breaths growing faster.

Zayne knew the signs of a panic attack, you clutched at your chest, right over your heart. His entire personality shifted. He pulled out with a wet ‘plap’ and eased you back against the headboard. Your eyes were wide, darting around like a wild animal.

Zayne wiped the drool away from the corner of your mouth, kneeling down on the bed. “Sweetheart, breathe for me. In…. Out…. In…. Out….”

You were panicked, trying to make yourself small on the massive bed. “M-mm sorry I’m so bad, I didn’t wanna brat. J-just wanted attention and-“ your breath choked up, a broken sob spilling from her lips.

Zayne's heart shattered as he watched her break down in front of him. He immediately understood what was happening - she was spiraling into a deep sub-space, convinced she was the cause of his frustration and not the other way around.

He moved quickly, gently cupping your face with both hands. “No. No, listen to me right now. This is NOT your fault." His voice was firm but tender. “You didn't do anything wrong. You're having a panic attack because I pushed too hard."

He spoke to her in a soothing tone he used for patients. But this was so much more personal. This was the love of his life, shaking and shivering.

He kept his voice calm and even, using the same tone he would with a scared or hurt patient. But every word was laced with emotion, each touch gentle and caring. "You're not stupid or selfish. You're not attention-seeking. You're overwhelmed and I messed up."

Zayne stroked your hair, soothing each bruise with a gentle touch of his ice Evol that soothed her skin.

His cool fingers gently traced along her bruises, healing them as he spoke softly. "Such a good girl. Look at me..." He tilted your chin up with one hand while the other continued to heal your skin. “When will you realize you're the most perfect thing in this world?"

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips - a stark contrast to the rough kisses from earlier. This one was loving, tender, filled with apology and adoration. “I love you so much it hurts. And I'm sorry for hurting you." His voice cracked with emotion.

You sniffled, burying your face into his neck for comfort. Your voice was small, legs still trembling. “Love you…”

He wrapped his arms tightly around your body, protecting you like he always did. His voice dropped softer, more loving. “Darling..." He murmured, kissing your hair. His fingers lightly grazed your sides, making sure you were not hurt there too. "Let me ask you something serious."

He waited until you lifted your head slightly, big eyes staring at him curiously. "Are you okay down there?" His hand slowly crept down to her lower abdomen, checking for any discomfort or pain.

He heard the small squeak and his brow furrowed. He pushed there again softly, watching you squirm. "Ow?" He asked softly, already knowing the answer. "Here?"

He saw you wince slightly and his heart sank. He gently moved you onto the bed, surrounding you with blankets and some of your favorite stuffies you had moved into his bedroom. He rushed to the bathroom, bare as the day he was born, to grab some much needed supplies

"Lie on your side Sweetheart. I’m going to get you fixed up." He returned with warmed wipes, arnica oil for bruising, and a heating pad. He pressed the heating pad gently against your lower abdomen while holding you close. “Such a good girl for being so patient.”

He slowly cleaned you up with the warm wipes, being extra gentle around your sensitive areas. He then applied the arnica oil, massaging it in slowly. He knew your body so well, knew just how to touch you to bring her comfort and pleasure. “My poor girl."

He watched you closely, making sure He adjusted the heating pad and pulled you into his lap, holding you like she was the most precious thing in the world - because you were. He kissed your forehead softly. "...Want some ice cream?" He asked sweetly.

You giggled, which made his heart ached when the tears in the corners of your eyes finally shed. You sniffled just a bit before responding. “Is the ice cream for me or for you?”

He chuckled softly, his thumb gently wiping away the tears from your eyes. “For you, silly girl. I know how much you love your ice cream." He kissed your nose playfully. “But if you share some with me, I won't complain."

Back when they were children, he had accidentally hurt you with his Evol, had nearly given you hypothermia and killed you. So now as adults, as the woman he loved, he would never hurt you again.

He remembered that day clearly - the day he almost lost her forever. The day he realized just how amazing and precious you were. He pulled you closer, holding you tighter. “I'll never hurt you again, I promise." He whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and love.

[strangersatellites]

I owe you a black eye and two kisses

933 words | idk M adjacent I guess

The interviewer’s name is Brooke. Steve isn’t sure who she’s with, he wasn’t paying that much attention.

She seems like a nice girl. Really, she does.

Steve is a little distracted though, trying his best to be earnest when he answers her questions.

“How did it feel when Jeremy told you he wrote the character specifically for you?”

“What was the most meaningful scene for you to film?”

“What was it like working with Nancy Wheeler? She’s my favorite.”

He thinks he does a pretty good job all things considered.

Well- considering that all he can hear is “Eddie! Over here” from the wall of paparazzi to his right. As kind as Brooke seems, he would much rather be hanging off his boyfriend while the crowd screams his name and begs for autographs.

Dating another famous person is all fun and games until work calls you both at the same time.

He looks over his shoulder between questions and catches Eddie throwing him a wink. He’s stood on the red carpet with the other Corroded Coffin boys and they’re all joking and laughing and acting like they don’t have a care in the world.

Steve knows that’s not true. They were all but shaking in their boots on the car ride over while their manager threatened them each on their lives to behave themselves.

He laughs under his breath and tears his eyes away.

“Okay! Now for some rapid-fire fan questions!” she says.

Perfect, this will be a good distraction until Eddie’s done being a goddamned model behind him.

Steve claps his hands together and furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m ready, let's do it.”

“What’s your favorite cereal?”

“Frosted Flakes, obviously.”

“When was the last time you went to the dentist?”

He snorts a laugh. “Uh, about a month ago actually. I chipped a tooth on set.”

“Yikes.” She looks down at the card in her hand. “Who is your most played artist on Spotify?”

He smiles, doesn’t need to pull out his phone to know the answer to that one.

“That would be my boyfriend.”

Brooke smiles at him and leans in conspiratorially, “If he isn’t really, I won’t tell anyone.”

He laughs. “He really is! If you wanted some juice though, Sabrina Carpenter is my second.”

She laughs and nods. “That’s perfect. I so see it. Okay, last one, what is your favorite snack to eat in bed?”

Oddly enough, he doesn’t really have to think to answer this one either.

“Pretzels, easy. We’ve been watching “How to Get Away With Murder” before bed every night and I’ve probably been through three bags this week. Honest.”

Brooke breaks her professional character to laugh and it spurs him on.

“It’s one of those things, I probably haven’t thought about a pretzel in three years and now that I’ve remembered they exist, I cannot put them down.” He notices now that even the camera guy is nodding and laughing. “You know when I was a kid, I used to love dipping a pretzel in my Coke can and hearing it fizz. That shit-”

He cuts himself off with a smile when he feels a warm hand slide around his waist.

“Hey hot stuff,” he giggles.

Eddie smacks a dramatic kiss to his cheek and squeezes his hip. His pretty smile taking over his face once he gets a good look at the blush that paints his cheeks.

“Hey babydoll. What’re you guys talking about?”

Steve’s head whips back around to Brooke. “Ooh! Ask him! I want to see if he says the same thing I did.”

She smiles and points the mic towards Eddie.

“What’s your favorite snack to eat in bed?”

Eddie puts on a faux contemplative look, puts a hand on his chin. He hums.

“Hm. That’s a tough one. God, I just don’t-”

Steve cuts him off, wraps his own arms around Eddie’s frame and gets in his face with a laugh.

“Oh come on, I know you’re thinking it! I want to be right!”

He makes himself giggle into Eddie’s shoulder thinking back to a few nights ago when Eddie had stuck two pretzel rods in his lip and pretended to be a walrus. So his confusion as to why Eddie isn’t answering only grows when he sees the filthy smirk on his face.

Eddie leans back far enough that he can see the mic flag.

“Who did you say you were with again?”

“E! News.”

Oh good. Steve had wanted to know that.

Eddie chuckles and Steve figures out what’s happening as soon as he feels Eddie’s hand shift. He can’t move his own fast enough.

“Well, Brooke from E! News, my favorite snack to eat in bed is my baby,” he punctuates it with a smack to Steve’s ass, “what else?”

Steve buries his blushing face in his boyfriend’s jacket and rushes to smack a hand over Eddie’s mouth before he can get out a, “Have you seen his-”

“OKAY, that’s enough out of you,” he looks back toward Brooke who is laughing hysterically, “I’m so sorry. He’s an animal.”

Steve is going to beat him up. Really, he is.

Eddie grabs his wrist and pulls his hand away from his mouth and settles it over his chest, bare under his studded jacket.

“Can you blame me? Look at him. Never tasted anything better.”

Okay, he’s done for real this time. He grabs Eddie’s arm and pulls him away, back toward the boys and more importantly away from the cameras.

“Thanks so much Brooke, you’re a gem, I am so sorry, again.”

Eddie cackles behind him and he just knows that they’ll never live this one down.

(He doesn’t really want to.)

[intestinesinbows]

ㅤ ㅤ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀KLEBOLD, Dylan

Dylan x Fem! Reader

⠀⠀⠀⏕⏕ꔫ⏕⏕

TW ♡ r4pe , kidnapping

fic from my ao3 | note it does have errors

also reader is a bit of a sweet bimbo

ㅤㅤ" say you'll love me "

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"Mhm, yeah." Dylan replied in a bored manner on the phone with his friend Eric. Dylan was outside of his job aka blackjack pizza. He rested on the side of the wall as Eric directed him what to do for the day since he wasn't present most likely taking care of his dog.

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Dylan was outback behind his job it was usual seeing him there when he felt the need to get a break.

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Dylan thought to himself as Eric rambled on "Damn im trying to have a smoke break and he just keeps on rambling." Most likely Eric was just calling so that he could talk to Dylan. With a huff Dylan dropped his cigarette and stepped it out as Eric finally stopped talking and left with a goodbye.

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It wasn't that Dylan didn't like Eric talking to him it was just sometimes he was on edge just like today. He glanced around one last time outside knowing he'd have to go back into his job and deal with snobby customers. He knew it was for the best because this was the best area for him to get money but damn did it stress him the fuck out sometimes.

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With that he turned his head to the direction of the door next to him titled with "Employees only." In a bold black font. He pushed it open knowing he had a few agonizing hours that he was submitted to. Afternoon hit and he was leaning over the counter next to the cash register. Barely anyone had came today and it felt like such a waste of time especially for it to be on a Saturday where he could be doing something besides staying here but oh right he forgot! He needs money.

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His eyes drifted around boredly but it wasn't like he was actually taking in his surroundings rather he was day dreaming and wanting to be alone in his thoughts. He tuned out the whole world the only thing in his mind was his thoughts. He couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not maybe in between if that was possible.

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Thats when he heard a gentle. "Hello?" Sounding more like a question than a greeting. A sweet question... Oh fuck. He sprung up in a panic and ran a hand through his hair. "Shit" he grumbled. "I am so sorry. I didn't see- you..." he took in the girl in front of him. His heart was struck with the realization that his crush was in front of him. Oh his beautiful halcyon.

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He gulped and muttered a small "Hi..." you both just stared at each other for a minute before he spoke again. "Oh- uh... what would you like?" You smiled and requested your order and with that he was on with it.

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After giving you your food you paid and left but not without saying a small "See you tomorrow!". This being because you both had a class together. He gave a small wave and felt like he was going to puke. God he sounded like a weirdo.

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The next day came and you were both sitting next to each other like most days. He tried his best to talk to you without being awkward but he always had a crack in his voice or a jumbled way of responding to your questions. Though in his eyes he was getting better at having small talk with you!

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Not even realizing it he was staring practically into your soul while the teacher went on with his lesson. You just stared at front not paying attention to the threatening glare that Dylan had.

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Dylan had always felt like a disgusting humanbeing when it came to masturbating. It always felt "sinful" to him if you could put it that way. Most of the time it being because he jerked off to you. Imagining you in the most tightest bondage restraints and making you wither and sob although he knew he could never want to make you upset all the perverted things in his head were just fantasies... right?

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He remembered the time he had jerked off for so long his bed smelt like sweat and had a damp wetness on it that felt like it covered the whole damn thing. He imagined having you handcuffed in his lap while he fingered your dumb cunt. Your pussy on full display for him while he rubbed your pretty clit.

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Oh god even thinking about it in class was getting him hard. He was still staring at you when suddenly the teacher called his name. He snapped out of it feeling his face turn a bright pink. He heard a few boys snickering probably because of the way they saw him staring you down like pray.

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He soon answered the teachers question with a half assed one knowing he probably wasn't going to get it right since he didn't even care. Somehow he did surprisingly get it right in a turn of events but he didn't care about that either. He thought education was stupid until you turned to him and said "good job." With that iconic pretty smile on your face.

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He felt butterflies in his stomach... no way. You complimented him.

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Later on that day his thoughts were all about you. Oh the way you looked at him, your scent, your personality, your appearance, your interests, your... body. Everything about you was hypnotizing him and he felt like he was going to die. He needed to do something he needed to give his halcyon everything.

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Later on that day you found yourself walking near a alleyway it was just a area you went to where you felt the need to get space from everything and everyone. Though today it didn't seem to be your day. No cars were near by and practically no one would be able to hear you if something happened.

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You were suddenly yanked in and without a peep someone smashed a bottle on your head. The impact not only making the bottle break but also making you pass out.

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When you woke up it was pitch black. Well not actually though on your end it was since you were blindfolded. Your hands had been cuffed together so you had no where to go. Your top had been pulled off and every brush against your nipples it felt like they were wet like they had been coated with saliva.

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You started crying for help only to have a rough hand cover your mouth. "Shh shh baby calm down you're okay." Oh god was that Dylan? Was he here to save you. "Mmm h-help." You whined against his hand. He hushed you down and played with your hair taking in the sight of you. Wait a second... how would he have found you even. Thats when you realized he was your captor and it was so obvious.

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You started freaking out and as a result your lips had a thick piece of tape placed on them. A small groan left his lips at the sight of you. You couldn't possibly understand how he knew you would be walking near a specific alleyway today but that was the least of your concerns as of now.

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He lifted your arms up making you shudder from the roughness of his hands. You suddenly felt a cold sensation on your nipples making you gasp against the tape. He started sucking on your tits and fondling them. You tried telling yourself you didn't like it but your body was arching for more.

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He pulled off one of them with a small pop before tugging on your abused nipples. It made you wince since now your nipples were sensitive and hard. He brushed his thumbs on the top of your nipples making you shudder.

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He got bored of playing with them though and let go to play with something else. Well not play but use. He was already to rock-hard and he didn't know how to contain it anymore.

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Since you were already pantless the last thing he had to do was take off your panties. He pulled them off while you shook your head and squirmed but you knew he wasn't going to hear you out or listen to a word you had to say.

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It was quiet for minute besides the sound of a belt being unbuckled and his pants being unzipped. You scared you didn't even want to image the things that were going to happen to you. Deep in your thoughts you felt the head of Dylan's dick rub against your slit.

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You whined and tried moving back but he made you stay put. He forced your legs open in annoyance with a small "fuck." It was obvious he was getting pissed at your movements and he couldn't risk his parents hearing you struggle. Once again he pressed his tip to your slit though this time he shoved it in.

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In case the tape wouldn't cover your screams he immediately covered your mouth with his hand. He started thrusting into you like the virgin he was. He was a moaning and groaning mess and he was a little whiney... he was only searching for his pleasure since he wasn't really sure how to give you your pleasure.

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He kept going until he suddenly felt the need to cum. Before he could pull out he came all inside of your pretty pussy. You tiredly whined at the feeling of his hot sticky cum inside of you. When he pulled out you couldn't help but miss the feeling of being filled but didn't fight with it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡

He rested on top of you in the end. He fell asleep in a deep slumber in which he probably wouldn't be waking up for a while. You didn't dare to try to push him off not just because you were scared but also because you gave up. His warm body covered yours as you laid under him.

[gigiii1sblog]

DORM- ROOM DEVIL.

Introducing… Y/N & CHRIS STURNIOLO

She’s that girl. A soft-spoken storm with bedroom eyes and a brain like a weapon. Calm, composed, always put together, cardigans, gloss, and headphones during the day. In class, she’s quiet, observant, smart without even trying. Doesn’t speak unless it matters. Shy smile, dark hair, always smells like vanilla and clean linen. But at night? She’s a different breed. Backless dresses. Bold liner. Heels that click like a warning. She walks into frat parties like she owns them, confident, untouchable, dangerous. A devil in designer. Seductive without saying a word. She’s the type to sip tequila with lipgloss still perfect, dance like she’s casting spells, and leave boys obsessed after one look. She’s a mix of soft and savage. Lana Del Rey & Kali Uchis energy with a The Weeknd & A$AP ROCKY soundtrack. A walking contradiction: angelic face, sinful vibe. Good girl grades, bad girl aura. A heartbreaker disguised as the quiet girl next door.

Christopher Sturniolo, youngest of the triplets, and everyone knows it. Not because he brags, but because he walks like the world owes him something and smirks like he already got it. He’s that classic frat-boy fantasy turned heartbreak, lacrosse gear slung over one shoulder, and a bottle of Casamigos in the other .Looks like trouble, kisses like sin, leaves like a storm. Can hook up with three girls in a weekend and still have them all texting “you up?” Wears gray sweatpants like a weapon and backward hats like armor. Addicted to parties, blunt smoke, and playlists no one else has. Has a hundred unread texts and still won’t turn off notifications. Avoids his feelings harder than he dodges DMs, but when he’s drunk and high, he might whisper something into the curve of your neck. Fights with his brothers constantly but would swing without question if anyone touched them. Has a thing for girls who act unbothered and dress like heartbreak. Chris isn’t just the frat guy. He’s the one people warn you about. And the one you still let in at 2 a.m.

Roommate Rule #1: Don’t hook up with each other.

They broke it..

Y/N moved in with a box of worn-out paperbacks, mascara, and a warning from her best friend: “Whatever you do, don’t fall for a Sturniolo. Especially not that one”.

Chris opened the door shirtless and half-awake, a Red Bull in one hand, and someone else’s bra hanging off the doorknob behind him like a trophy.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Y/N muttered.

He grinned. That cocky, lopsided smirk that made girls fall and Y/N want to swing.

“You’re the new roomie?” he said. “Guess hell really did freeze over.”

She rolled her eyes and walked past him without a word, like she didn’t already hate him on principle.

From the start, it was war.

Y/N was tequila and lip gloss, fast comebacks, louder music, 4.0 GPA and always the last one to leave the party.

Chris was smoke and tequila stained jeans and a devil’s grin, racking up attention like it was a game he always won.

They couldn’t stand each other.

Competed over everything.

Who had more people’s eyes on them.

Who could make the other crack first.

Still, he’d stumble in at 3 a.m., reeking of weed and adrenaline, throwing smug comments her way like grenades.

And she gave it right back.

But one night, things shifted, too much tequila, too many shared glances, a song playing low in the background while neither of them looked away.

“Stop staring,” she snapped.

“I’m not,” Chris murmured, stepping closer. “I’m calculating.”

“Calculating what?”

“How many more seconds until you kiss me or slap me.”

The rule didn’t just break.

It disintegrated.

And so did the line between love and hate.

COMMENT TO BE IN THE TAGLIST!

@izzylovesmatt @riggysworld @amiraisafreakokaysorry @ansteeze @pair-of-pantaloons @kitty-meow-meow44 @sturnslux3 @kalel2005 @sarahsturnn

[songofthepines]

A LITTLE CLOSER, A LITTLE LONGER | VIKTOR X M!READER

viktor’s been spending more time on his school work than you recently. how dare he? jayce is at practice, and you’ve been tired of being ignored. surely, giving him the silent treatment will make him notice. right?

As of late, you’ve seen Viktor less and less, despite living in the same room. How is it that you have two boyfriends, and neither of them is paying attention to you? You can’t blame Jayce, though– with playoffs coming up, he’s been putting more time at practice and the gym. However, you and Viktor have been sitting in the same room for the better part of a day, and yet have barely spoken to each other.

After the whole Homecoming fiasco, Jayce helped you and Viktor rearrange the room so that Viktor and your beds were pushed together to make one big bed to fit all three of you when Jayce slept over. So Viktor and you are in the same bed, your head practically in his lap, and he’s still paying more attention to his laptop. You and Jayce put together a pillow fort around the beds during Christmas for Viktor’s birthday, and it’s been up ever since.

Viktor. Viktor. Viktor. Viktor. Vik. Vikky. Viktor Radoslav Kucera. 

— …Yes, miláček?

He answers after a few seconds, but still doesn’t tear his eyes from the screen, just slightly turning his head in your general vicinity. 

Can you take a break?

— I am working, love. 

Yeah, but you’ve been working since forever. I swear you were working fresh out of the womb.

— That is wrong on many levels, and you know that. I would not be able to read, write, or even walk. Also, that is a very disturbing graphic you have just imprinted into my mind. 

That’s the point.

— What do you suppose I do, then? I have many people relying on me to grade these papers: teachers and students. 

Can you just… stop being a teacher’s assistant?

— No, I can not stop. This was a year-round commitment. 

Ugh. How about a ten-minute break? I’ll set a timer. Pleeeease?

He doesn’t answer, and still hasn’t looked up from his laptop. You roll off his lap once you can tell he’s not going to respond, and roll out of the fort to start rummaging through your shared closet. You pull out all four of his hoodies and throw them onto your side of the bed. You pull your extra blankets and pillows into a small pile on the bed and curl into a ball in the middle, your back to him. And that’s what got his attention. Somehow, when you stop giving him attention, he wants you to give him attention. Funny how that works, isn’t it? He moves his laptop off his lap and rolls towards you, his head lying beside yours, and his arm slung over your stomach.

— Hey, I did not mean to ignore you.

Mmmph. No. ‘M mad at you.

— Come on, miláček. Look at me. Prosím.

Silence. He sighs and props himself up on an elbow to look down at you. He brushes a strand of your hair out of your face and leans down to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to look at him, knowing you can’t help but forgive him when he talks to you like that. 

— Please, my love. I am sorry I ignored you.

Too bad. ‘S too late now.

You can feel his breath on your ear, and a shiver runs up your back when he places a soft kiss on the base of your neck. You let out a soft whine at the contact, and you can feel him smile against your nape. And just like that, with a single kiss, you completely melt for him. With a groan, you roll over to face him, and the grin on his face tells you so much. He huffs out a soft laugh, and you hate how easily you fold for him.

…You’re lucky I love you.

— I love you too, půvabný. I apologize for neglecting you.

You tuck your head under his chin, and he cradles the back of your head, kissing the top of your head as he slips a hand under your (Jayce’s) sweater to rub your back.

It’s fine. I get it, your work is important. 

— Yes, but you are also important to me. Probably more so than my work.

Probably?

— …You are more important than my work.

But you’re important to me, so therefore, your work is important to me too.

— You’re the best boyfriend I could ask for.

I’m telling Jayce you said that.

— You wouldn’t.

Wouldn’t I? …No, I wouldn’t. Not seriously.

— That’s my boy. Do you want to watch something?

Can we just… stay here? For a bit?

— Of course. As long as you want.

© 2025 | all works are property of 「 @songofthepines 」 written by sen : do NOT steal, translate, repost, or plagiarize my work on any platform.

[aryfal]

Comfort of Change

ᴴᵉˡˡᵒᵎ ᴬʳʸ ʰᵉʳᵉᵎ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵘᵐᵇˡʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ, ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ.. ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ᵇᶦᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʳᶦᵗᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉᵎ ᵀʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᶦⁿᵍ ᶦˢ ᵃ ˡᶦᵗᵗˡᵉ ʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ.. ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍᶦᶻᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᶦᶠ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ˡᶦᵐᶦᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵉˣᵗ ᵖᵒˢᵗˢ.. ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵎ

You had awoken a few minutes ago, a stressful dream plaguing you for a few nights now. It’s getting harder to sleep, the remnants of the pain lingering. Scrolling social medias don’t help, only catching bits of devastating news. It only adds to the building stress and fear that’s brewing inside your chest. A seed that has bloomed, slowly wrapping you in its constricting vines. It gets to a point where you have to get out of bed, remind yourself that you’re not trapped in a bubble. And that’s when you spot her, Arlecchino, already awake, on the balcony. Gods, she looks absolutely ethereal, even if she is smoking, something you urged her to quit to prolong her health. She turns towards you when she hears the door open, smiling oh so softly, and fuck, you’ve never felt so loved in your life with a simple look. It’s bliss when your girlfriend opens her arms and greedily envelops you with those strong arms. Sure, it may be cold, but here, it’s the warmest it’ll get, even the stress slowly melting. It’ll be okay. “Everything alright, pretty girl?” And lord, you just want to break down and fall apart in her arms. At least Arlecchino will help put you back together, taking time with each part to make sure it’s the right one. It’s why you don’t answer right away, burying your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of smoke and sandalwood, and the tinge of cigarettes. It’s comforting nonetheless. Upon your lack of answer, Arlecchino doesn’t push, already knowing something’s up. Instead, those strong, warm hands run tenderly up and down your back, trying to softly coax you out enough to speak your mind. Never pressing, always present. A warm fire, if you wish to warm your hands. “..Yeah, just.. Another nightmare,” you finally crack, still clinging onto your beloved lover for dear life. “The same? Or is it something different?” “..The same.” Arlecchino inhales deeply, and you feel it through her chest. The strong beat of her heart, the steady rhythm of her breathing, purposeful yet subtle to get you to unconsciously match her breathing, intake more air.

“Do you want to talk about it? About what’s making you feel this way?” Normally, you would reject the offer. Opening up is tiring, and sometimes other people just wouldn’t understand. Why were you allowed to complain when others had it worse? You were the one often comforting others, not the other way around. Arlecchino is different. She listens, and she does her best to be what you need, and gods, you love her for it. You don’t open up often, but when you do, Arlecchino is already right there by your side, arms open, heart beared. “I.. I think.. I’m just kind of stressed out about things. Just in general.” Arlecchino hums in agreement, the noise soft, deep, and encouraging. Her hands continue to massage gently at your back, drawing from your hips to your shoulders, cradling your head to plant a soft kiss atop, coaxing you to continue. “I can understand that. Anything in particular?” It’s hard to put up resistance when your girlfriend has a backdoor key to your walls, slowly lowering them from the inside. 

“I’m.. afraid of change. I understand that everyone goes through it, and I’m fine with change, but.. I’m changing.” Arlecchino stays silent. Her encouraging, gentle touches continue, never wanting to press, letting you continue on your own terms. It gives you courage to continue, “I can’t handle loud noises as well as I could anymore. Lights feel agonizing to deal with, and I get terribly afraid when certain things get brought up. I feel like people have to cater to me more when we hang out, and.. I fear they might start resenting me for it. I hate being so needy.. I wasn’t like this a year ago..” You feel like crying. Speaking slowly while addressing your feelings and avoiding eye contact makes it a thousand times easier to speak about what’s wrong, but it’s still hard. The lump at the back of your throat is still there. Tears don’t just disappear. Arlecchino holds you close, despite all of that. She isn’t disgusted, isn’t repulsed, her own heart throbbing with ache seeing you so afraid. She holds you closer, burying her face in your hair, trying to provide some comfort. The cigarette had been put out long ago, forgotten in favor of holding you, the much superior activity. “That must be pretty scary,” she begins, shielding you from the cold with her large frame, as if the wind were those bad thoughts. “You’re very brave for pushing through them for so long. You’re right, change is scary. The unknown is always lurking. “But.. I think that maybe this change is good. You’re finding things that aren’t pleasant, and you’re finding solutions for them. I love you so, so very much, so anything you need, I’ll be right there with you, helping you find a good way to navigate it. “The sun, you wear sunglasses. If the inside lights are too bright, we turn them down, or wear sunglasses. If the noise is too much, we put on earplugs or leave, and if someone’s talking too loud,” she pauses for a small chuckle, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head, further melting away your defenses. “Well, it’s no fun to have someone shouting at you to talk, isn’t it? Most people lower their voices when we ask.” You sigh, “But it’s not all that! What if I have to continue to ask them, and it becomes nagging? And they get fed up with me for asking?” Arlecchino simply holds you closer, beginning a small rocking motion, swaying side to side on your feet, and it’s too easy to fall into her comfort.

“Well,” she begins, her voice soft, just for you, “if they can’t lower their voice, and they get upset at you for being unable to handle their loud talking, maybe they aren’t worth talking to. I feel like it might be more effort than it’s worth to put earplugs in, as then maybe they’ll need to shout even louder, and maybe they’ll cause a scene. If you’re in public, of course.”

The thought brings you some laughter, a small chuckle, a small break in your exhaustion. Even these small talks help ease your worries tenfold. The weight on your lungs has somewhat lifted, even if it’s still there. It feels more bearable, especially with Arlecchino by your side. “..You’re right. Thanks. For listening to me. I love you.” “Mn, I love you too.” The both of you stay like that for a little longer, simply enjoying each other’s arms, each other’s presence, breathing each other’s scent in like it’s life itself. Only after a small comment from you about it being cold does Arlecchino suggest going inside, as to which you eagerly agree to. At least the bed should be warm, and when you settle down again, Arlecchino holding you oh so dearly close, do you fall into a dreamless slumber.

[holy-moly-dawling]

Fly Me To The Moon | Three

Hermes x Fem!Reader (Modern)

(Art Credit: Zieru)

Y/n walked along the isles of bookshelves, pushing a small cart in front of her as she went. She stopped at one row, the small sign above it reading "Fictional". She reached into the cart, and pulled out two books that fit into this category and placed them neatly into place.

That was the last of her rounds before she would go back to the front desk, and start her next task. She sat in front of the computer, typing away, checking emails from her boss or coworkers, and so on. Every now and then she'll have someone ask her where a particular book is, if or when it's in stock, and where to find certain genre.

Every now and then, Y/n would sneak glances at her phone. She had hoped she might hear from Ermis, but so far nothing. She figured he was busy at work. When Y/n heard approaching footsteps, she quickly pocketed her phone, as not to get caught slacking off.

Y/n looked up to see a woman around her age, she was her coworker, Cindy. "Hey, Y/n." She spoke softly, as not to disrupt the quiet atmosphere. "Do you think you can organize some of the books in the children's section? They're completely out of order, and I don't want to take up most of my break reorganizing them."

Y/n nods her head. "Sure, I don't mind." She says as she walks away from the desk, Cindy thanked her before heading outside. Y/n made her way to the children's section and started to properly alphabetize the books on the shelves. Nearly halfway done, she heard a voice.

"This Goldilocks character is quite rude, if you ask me." That voice...

Y/n furrowed her brows and turned her head to the left. There stood Ermis, leaning against one of the shelves, 'Goldilocks And The Three Bears" held in his hand. He spoke as if he were seriously criticizing the writings of a children' story. "Who just lets themself into someone's home, eat their food, then sleep in their beds? What a total invasion of privacy, wouldn't you say?" Ermis said now looking at Y/n.

"Ermis." Y/n greeted him with a smile. "I didn't know you were a fan of Goldielocks." Ermis shrugged before putting the book back into place.

"I would be." He said. "If it we're a bit more realistic." Y/n rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here? Come to check out a book? I'm sure we have something a bit more to your liking. Perhaps, The Three Little Pigs?" She asks with a smirk.

Ermis chuckled. "I actually came by to see you. I wanted to ask you something." Y/n nods, and waits for his answer. She suspected he wanted to hang out again. But what he actually asked surprised her tremendously.

"Would you like to go out sometime?"

Y/n felt her cheeks grow warm, her eyes widened slightly. "O-Oh um...Well, t-that's uh..." She struggled to string a proper sentence together. It was pitiful, she felt. It was like she was a lovesick teenager who just got asked out by the guy of her dreams.

Well...in this case, that wasn't entirely inaccurate. But, this was moving a little fast for her liking. Ermis was a great guy, but Y/n wasn't sure if she was ready to take it to that level.

"Oh sorry." Ermis said, after noticing her hesitation. "Are you seeing someone?" Y/n quickly shook her head. "No it's not that." She tells him. "It's just..."

It's not like Y/n was totally against the idea of going out with Ermis. She did find him charming, and of course his looks did not disappoint. But they've only known each other for a short time. She doesn't know really anything about him either.

Ermis spoke again as she trailed off. "You don't have to give me an answer right away. You don't even have to say yes, if you really don't want to. But, if you would consider it, that would be nice." He tells her. "I really do like you, Y/n. I feel like we'd get along fine, you and I."

But maybe, Y/n could get to know him. It didn't have to be serious between them just yet. It was just a date is all. She could make the decision to settle with Ermis afterwards.

"Where were you thinking of going...i-if I did say yes?" Asked Y/n timidly. Ermis smirks as he answers. "Anywhere your heart desires, darling."

Smooth.

Y/n paused to think for a moment, then finally gave him answer. "My shift ends in a few hours." Ermis chuckles. "Lovely. I promise you won't regret it." Y/n turned back to organizing the books, taking care to not face him, fearing he'd see how flustered she was.

"I'll go home and get ready after work, then we can go." Y/n tells him. She heard Ermis walk past her, but still kept her gaze forward. Ermis spoke again before he left. "Until then, try not to miss me too much, darling."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the smile that formed on her face. "I'll try my best."

Of all times Y/n has spent with Ermis, this was by far the most nervous she's ever felt. This time, it was an actual date. There was the potential for she and Ermis to become more than just friends after this. Y/n didn't dislike the idea, in fact she'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit curious.

If having Ermis as a boyfriend was anything like having him as a friend, then Y/n had nothing to worry about.

Y/n checked herself over in the mirror one last time before heading out. After she got home from work, Ermis sent her a text, suggesting they go to the beach. Y/n agreed, as it wasn't too far from her home.

She dressed appropriately for the setting. A light floral coverup, a matching opaque sarong, and sandals. Once she stepped outside of her house, she saw Ermis waiting for her. He was leaning against his car, waving her way.

For once he wasn't wearing that fur coat he had, but he still kept up his dashing looks. "Hello, gorgeous." He greets her. "You ready to go?"

"Yep." Y/n said, trying to not let her nerves show. "You look gorgeous as well." Ermis could tell she was nervous, but didn't comment on it. "So I've been told." He said with a smirk. "But hearing it from you...It means a lot more."

"Oh stop it." Y/n shakes her head. "The date hasn't even started, and you're being all flirty." She laughs. Ermis shrugs. "It's only my nature." He says before opening the passenger door for her. Y/n thanked him and got in.

The drive there was nice, despite the setting sun, it was still warm thanks to the summer weather. The beach wasn't super crowed at this time, so the two could enjoy their time peacefully.

The sound of waves gently meeting the shore could heard, a cooling breeze passed over the pair, the ever setting sun casts a dim glow. It all relaxed Y/n, and eased her mind. She looked over Ermis, he looked as equally pleased by the beautiful scenery.

"I say I picked out a pretty nice spot for our first date, huh?" Ermis met her gaze. Y/n nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's really nice." She looked out onto the horizon. "I use to come here all the time when I was a kid."

"Yeah?" Ermis asks, wanting her to continue, so she did. "Yep, I learned to swim here, my dad taught me. And I use to collect different shells I'd find too. And..." She trailed off as she chuckled. "And my dog use to chase crabs around. One time, the poor guy got pinched on the nose. Needless to say, he was more careful after that." Y/n sighed a breath. "Good times, back then."

"You say that like it didn't last long." Ermis added. Y/n hummed. "Can't have good times, all the time. That's life. But, during the good times, I savored every moment. I'd like to think I had more good times, than bad."

"You can always have more good times." Ermis began. "I'll make sure of it. Starting now." He kicked off his sandals and walked into the shallow waters. He turned back to Y/n, and beckoned her to follow. Y/n took off her sandals and stepped in as well.

"I know we're moving fast, but all I've known is speeding ahead." Said Ermis, turning to her and taking his hand into his. "I've went a long time like that, never stopping to take in what's around me. A part of me has always longed to just...slow down, to settle. Even if for a moment."

Y/n couldn't ignore the slight emptiness to his tone. She wondered what his life was like. She didn't know that, or anything else important about him. But, that's what this date was for. It was the start of a better understanding of Ermis, and who he was.

And what they could be.

"But it didn't start that way." Said Ermis. "When I was young, I was very...about me and what I wanted. I did whatever, whenever, with little concern for others. But over the years, after all the change, I realize that there was more to life than...me. I experienced life one way, to the fullest yes. But...I feel like I was missing something. And just didn't know what. I still don't quite know, maybe one day I will."

"Maybe you'll be the one who helps me see it."

Y/n smiled at his word. "I think you're giving me too much credit. I'm just one person." Ermis lifted her hand to his lips. "Yes. One brilliant and beautiful person."

Y/n's heart fluttered. "So, um, do you swim Ermis?" She asked, removing her coverup and sarong, setting them aside on the sandy shore. Underneath she wore a plain one-piece swimsuit.

Ermis watched her silently for a moment, before realizing she asked him a question. "Oh yeah, I swim pretty girl." He then quickly corrected himself. "Pretty good!"

Y/n smirked, feeling proud of herself that she made him flustered for once. "I know a spot, it's just a short swim that way." She tells him, pointing out into the distance. Ermis removed his button up shirt and followed her further into the water.

After a few minutes of swimming, the two came across a somewhat hidden grotto. Y/n and Ermis walked ashore, and into the cave. "How did you come across this?" Asked Ermis.

"I found it by accident a few years ago. It's a nice little getaway whenever the beach is too crowded." Said Y/n, taking a seat on one of the larger rocks inside the grotto cave.

It was nearly night now. "I wish today didn't have to end so soon." Said Y/n. "I could spend a whole night here." She sighed, closing her eyes and enjoying the peace. Ermis joined her side, his bare shoulder brushing up against hers.

"It doesn't have to end." He tells her. "How about after this we go back to my place?" Y/n reopened her eyes, and gave him a look.

"Don't worry. We're not going to do anything like that." Ermis nudged her gently. "Unless..."

"Not on the first date." Y/n says firmly, causing him to laugh. "But...maybe if to get to know you a little better, I'll consider it."

"Fair enough." Said Ermis.

Y/n rests her head on his shoulder. "Let's stay here a bit longer, and then we can go."

The two stayed inside the grotto, admiring the stars above and talking about whatever. Eventually they swam back to shore and gathered their things before Ermis took them back to his place.

Y/n was stunned, to say the least, when they pulled up at what was one of the nicest houses she's ever seen. "You live here?" She asked Ermis. She had no idea being a delivery guy could make someone enough money to live here.

"Rich parents." Ermis explained, as if he could read her thoughts. He parked the car and the two made their way inside. "Make yourself at home." Ermis tells her. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure, thank you." Y/n nods. "Your home is lovely."

Ermis smirked. "I know right?" He joked before heading over to the kitchen. There, he brought out a bottle of wine and poured them both a glass. "My brother, Dion, bought this for me. Says it's one of the best made around here."

He offers Y/n a glass. "I would have poured you his personal favorite, but, I don't want you waking up with a hangover tomorrow."

"Very considerate, thank you, Ermis." Y/n laughs a bit before taking a sip. "Hm. This is delicious." She tells him. "Where did your brother get this again?"

"Said he got it from a vineyard a few hours from the city. We should visit it sometime, I hear it's nice." Answered Ermis. Y/n takes another sip before answering. "Sounds good to me."

"Do you want to watch a movie? We can cuddle and smooch, like a proper couple." Ermis said, making overly dramatic kissing noises. Y/n rolled her eyes. "Alright, just nothing scary."

"Aw, but that's the best way to initiate cuddle. You get spooked, and hold me real close. And I protect you like the good man I am!" Ermis leads her to the living room. "Ermis, if you want me to cuddle with you, just ask."

"Will you please cuddle with me?"

"If you behave, yes."

"Yes ma'am!" Ermis plops down on the couch, Y/n joining his side.

The two watched a random movie Ermis picked out, and making good on his promise to "behave", Y/n cuddled him as he wanted. After a while, Y/n began to grow tired. Ermis offered to let her stay here for the night if she wanted, which she agreed to do. But before she drifted off into sleep, Ermis spoke.

"Y/n, can I ask you something?" He asked. With eyes still closed, Y/n hummed her answer. Ermis hesitated for a moment, which was unlike him.

But finally he asked. "If you knew me...really knew me, and you didn't like, or couldn't understand rather....would you leave? Would you erase me from your mind?"

Y/n furrowed her brows, opening her eyes she lifts her head to look at him. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"Once you know the real me, who I really am, I'm not sure if you'd be so...accepting, I suppose?" Ermis explained further.

"Well, that's not really for you to decide." Y/n started. "If I do get to know you, I'll make that decision. But, I think you're worrying for nothing. So far, you're a really nice guy."

"I can't believe I trusted you as easily as I did." Y/n missed the way Ermis ever so slightly winced at that. "But you make it easy. You haven't done anything to make me believe you're a bad person. Whatever it is that you're afraid of me knowing, I'll do my best to try and understand. I want to understand. Because...I really do like you, Ermis."

Ermis exhaled shakily, a weak smile forming on his face. "You're too good for me, you know that?" Before Y/n could argue, Ermis moved her into his lap, his head hidden in her neck. "I'll tell you, I will. But for now, let's just enjoy things how they are. Is that ok?"

Y/n stroked his head, her fingers gently toying with his curls. "That's fine with me, Ermis." She said softly. "Take all the time you need."

He would have loved to, but his time with her was limited. She would not wait forever, even if she could last that long. And he wasn't sure if there would ever be the right moment to tell her.

He had to make a choice, and soon, before it was too late...

[stonathanweek]

PROMPTS STONATHAN WEEK 2025

Please click the read more to see more detailed explanations about the prompts!

Day 1 (Saturday, Augsut 16th)

Only One Bed: Forced proximity taken to the next level. We all know and love this trope, and Stonathan deserves to be put through the awkwardness that is sharing a bed with each other. Whether you place it in canon, where Jonathan has to share a bed with the ex of his girlfriend, or whether you place it in a universe where these two have history between them in a different sense, we can all agree it will be accidentally intimate, extra awkward, and the perfect set up for something to happen.

Day 2 (Sunday, August 17th)

Friends with Benefits: Sometimes hooking up with a friend is simpler than to complicate life with romantic feelings that can only come to ruin your day. However, what happens when that friend that was supposed to be your safe escape becomes something more? Is it really worth it to risk the friendship, betting on something bigger that has every single probability of not working out? What a mess!

Day 3 (Monday, August 18th)

Stolen Kisses/Moments: Sometimes life gets in the way, whether that's because the supernatural end of the world won't quit chasing you or because life simply won't give you a break. This prompt is for those little pockets of time in which life comes to a stop. They can be quiet and tender or explosive and desperate. No matter which one, somehow the world stops spinning for a moment and there's only the two of you.

Day 4 (Tuesday, August 19th)

Second Chance/Exes to Lovers: When the ambers waken and build to a fire that threatens to burn everything down! Where does all the history between two people go once things are over? What happens if some of those feelings never died like one of them thought they would? This day, you can explore all the messiness that comes with welcoming someone from your past back into your life. Will history rewrite itself, or will a new history take shape?

Day 5 (Wednesday, August 20th)

Stuck Together/Forced Proximity:  Isn’t it just inconvenient when for reasons out of your control you have to share a same space with someone you might not like so much, or someone who might not like you so much, or someone you might like too much, or just someone you haven’t talked to in a long time, and it’s just Awkward? Yup, it’s the worst. But it’s so much fun when it happens to the characters we love! Go wild with this one!

Day 6 (Thursday, August 21st)

Secret Relationship: Holding hands underneath tables, where no one can see. Sharing glances with each other from across the room. Waiting for the door to close so you can steal a kiss. The burden of a secret sometimes might be worth it. It might make things even more exciting. It might just crush the relationship under its weight. There's so much to explore with this prompt!

Day 7 (Friday, August 22nd)

5+1: This one doesn't need more explanation, does it? Sometimes we need a second chance for things to go right. Or a third. Or a fourth. Maybe 5 tries? Okay, fine, let's give it a one more. The five times things didn't work out and the one time they finally did. A perfect scenario to run into awkward situations, for the yearning to build and for an explosive getting together!

[baji-sideblog]

Brother trouble

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You watch as Luka runs back and forth in the kitchen making tons of food and hurriedly trying to make everything nice. He asked you to come over, but you’re aren’t sure why he did. Since he was stumbling over his words and you couldn’t make anything out.

“Um Luka, are you ok?”

“Oh, you’re here!! Sorry I’m a bit of a mess,” he fixes his hair the best he can, “I’m so happy you can make it. And yeah I’m fine, excited even!”

“About what?”

“My brothers are coming over and you get to meet them!”

“What?!” You look at him in shock, you’re not even dating him and he wants you to meet his family. Then again friends meet each other’s family all the time. But you know Luka likes you, it’s very obvious he wants you to be his.

“Yeah, it’s why I’m preparing all this food. They can eat a lot haha.”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea Luka.”

“It will be fine I promise. They’ll love you, plus they’ve been wanting to meet my mate forever now.”

“I’m not your mat-“

The door swings open cutting you off, four men walk right inside.

“We’re here!!” A man with long blue hair exclaims in a sing song tone. Luka smiles and runs over grabbing all four of them into a huge hug. The group returns it with the same energy. Expect for one he had white hair with some blue spots and glasses. He wiggles free from the hug first looking at you.

“Luka is that your mate, you’re constantly blabbering about?”

“Yes they are! Darling, these are my brothers Leon, Lance, Logan, and Lee.”

“Charmed to meet you. And no I don’t do handshakes,” Logan gives you a polite nod before looking around the apartment, “You’ve cleaned up the place.”

Luka nods and pats Logan’s back. You can’t see his mouth due to his mask, but you can tell with his subtle tail wag Logan appreciates the effort.

“Howdy, hello. I’m Lance like he said. Soo do you like know anyone who’s missing a soulmate at all? Cause like I’m trying to find my love of my life and it’s been a struggle,” Lance moves his hands side to side as he talks looking at you hopefully.

“Uh sorry I don’t.”

“Dammit! Worth a shot…do you have any friends who’re currently looking for anyone?”

“They don’t. You’ll find your person soon give it time Lance,” Leon steps up pulling his brother away. His face looks like he’s ready to murder someone. His red eyes stare deeply into yours as if he’s judging your soul, “When we have a second you and I will have word in private.”

You nod watching him walk towards the couch.

Lee walks over and shakes your hand, “Hi nice to meet you. Sorry if I don’t talk much. I’m working on a project of mine. I didn’t want to miss meeting my brother’s person.”

“Oh uh, yeah you’re ok, good luck with your thing.”

Lee smiles and nods sitting down on the table. Luka’s tail wags fast as he grabs all the food bringing it all out. Everyone grabs a plate full of meat, sides, and dessert gobbling it up. You shift in your seat picking at your food here and there. Everyone is being nice, but hearing them talk about you and Luka as if you’re madly in love with each other feels weird. Plus Leon constantly staring at you waiting for your ‘talk’ isn’t helping. Especially when his ears are pinned back and he looks like he’s ready to bite you in half.

Luka looks over to you and takes your hand, nuzzling into you, “Don’t worry. Everything is going fine and don’t mind Leon he’s happy for us.”

“He is?”

“Yeah! I know he’s hard to read, but he’s happier than a clam.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Luka kisses your head and grabs his dishes to put away. Lee chases after him to help. Leon stands up and grabs you dragging you to the hallway.

“Listen it’s obviously you two aren’t together, but my big brother loves the shit out of you. And you make him happy, which means if you ever break his heart or try to leave him I’ll personally hunt you down and make you regret it,” he glares down at you before patting your shoulder making you stumble due to his strength, “Welcome to the family.”

Leon walks away leaving you alone, you should have just told Luka you were sick.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[pinklotushere]

Dick Grayson and Dan Fenton are two sides of the same coin

drawn together by the overwhelming force of their shared anger, yet tempered by their differing ways of dealing with it.

Their personalities mirror each other, with subtle but significant differences in how they react to their emotions and the world around them.

Dick Grayson is a person who, despite carrying an intense inner rage, has spent years learning how to mask it, constantly suppressing his feelings because of the responsibility he feels toward those who rely on him.

His anger is like a volatile storm beneath the surface, always simmering, always ready to boil over.

But Dick keeps that storm contained, partly out of a sense of duty and partly because he cannot afford to lose control—not when there are people depending on him, especially after everything he’s experienced.

When Dick does snap, it’s explosive, a red-hot fury that consumes him and everyone around him.

His anger comes from a deep sense of betrayal, loss, and frustration, emotions that are often triggered by his inability to fully heal from past wounds. His guilt over not being there when others need him can push him to the edge, and when he finally lets go, it's intense and uncontrollable.

Dan Fenton, on the other hand, carries his anger like a weapon—he doesn't mask it, doesn't suppress it, and most importantly, doesn't care who sees it.

His rage is a direct expression of his complete disillusionment with the world around him. Dan feels trapped in a cycle of pain and self-loathing, and his anger is a response to that helplessness. His anger is his shield, his way of saying, "I'm not going to be ignored. I'm not going to pretend anymore."

When Dan snaps, it's not just explosive—it's total annihilation. There’s no restraint, no second thoughts, just a primal need to destroy whatever is in his way, whether it's physical or emotional.

Dan’s rage isn't a mere outburst; it's a reaction to everything he sees as wrong in the world, and he doesn't try to control it because, for him, the control is gone.

He feels like he's drowning, but instead of letting others help, he isolates himself, pushing away anyone who might try to get too close, afraid that he’ll drag them down with him.

The bond between Dick and Dan is magnetic because they see themselves in each other.

Dick wants to help Dan because he sees his own unresolved rage mirrored in him. He recognizes that same fire, that same inability to fully trust the world around him, and he can’t help but want to pull Dan out of the abyss that he himself struggles to stay out of.

However, Dick's optimism—his belief that things can get better—clashes with Dan's complete loss of hope.

Dick can't help himself, but he tries anyway because, deep down, he’s terrified of losing someone else.

The fear of someone dying while he wasn’t there for them is something Dick struggles with every day.

This fear pushes him to try to “save” Dan, not just because of his own guilt but because he can’t bear the thought of letting another person slip away, consumed by their anger and pain.

Dan feels the weight of his anger and self-isolation.

He recognizes Dick’s attempt to help, but he feels unworthy of that help. He fears that anyone who gets too close to him will be consumed by his darkness.

Dan feels like he’s already too far gone, that any attempt to fix himself will only result in dragging others into the chaos.

In that way, he isolates himself, pushing away anyone who might care, even if they’re offering a lifeline.

They are drawn to each other because they are two halves of the same broken whole.

Their anger is the bridge that connects them, even as it drives them apart.

Dick’s attempts to help Dan are ultimately a reflection of his own inner turmoil and his fear of being alone in his anger.

Meanwhile, Dan's response to Dick is a reminder of the path Dick could go down if he allows his rage to consume him fully.

They are both fueled by bitterness and anger, but where Dick’s anger is tempered by a relentless hope, Dan’s is an all-consuming darkness.

The fundamental difference is that Dick still believes in the possibility of change, while Dan is resigned to his own destruction.

In many ways, Dick and Dan are forced into a complicated, tense dance. Dick wants to fix Dan, but Dan resists, unsure if he even deserves the help.

But, beneath the resistance, there’s a quiet understanding between them, a recognition of the same pain, the same anger that keeps them from moving forward. They see themselves in each other, and that’s what makes their connection so powerful—and so so difficult.

But Despite the pain, despite the anger, despite the near-constant push and pull between them, Dick Grayson and Dan Fenton would still end up drawn into something deeper. They would love because of the pain as much as despite it.

Because see, most people see what Dick and Dan project—Dick as the golden boy who has everything under control, Dan as an unstoppable force of destruction.

But they both recognize the truth beneath the masks. Dick sees Dan’s pain, the raw vulnerability buried under all that rage, and Dan sees the exhaustion behind Dick’s carefully maintained control. There’s no need to pretend with each other, and that honesty is intoxicating.

And Both of them are angry—but with each other, they don’t need to justify it.

Dick doesn’t have to hold back his frustration and grief, and Dan doesn’t have to pretend he doesn’t care. They understand that part of each other instinctively, without having to put it into words. They can be angry together, and instead of it being destructive, it’s relieving—like finally having someone who just gets it.

Neither of them is built for something soft and easy.

They could have quiet, peaceful relationships with people who don’t challenge them—but they don’t want that. They’re both drawn to the fight, to the sharp edges, to the constant tension between destruction and salvation. With each other, love isn’t calm—it’s a storm. But it’s their storm, and they can’t walk away from it.

Even in a room full of people, both Dick and Dan carry a deep, persistent loneliness.

Dick is surrounded by people who love him, yet he always feels responsible for everything, always afraid of letting someone down.

Dan isolates himself because he’s convinced his presence is a threat. But with each other, that loneliness eases, misery loves company, they say

When emotions run too deep for words, physicality becomes their outlet. Whether it’s a fight, a touch, or just sitting next to each other, their connection is tangible.

Dan, who keeps everyone at arm’s length, finds himself unwilling to let go of the warmth Dick offers.

Dick, who usually holds himself back, allows himself to hold on.

Their relationship is a mess of passion, fights, comfort, and raw honesty.

They crash into each other like fire meeting gasoline, but somehow, they don’t consume each other completely. Instead, they ignite something new—something neither of them fully understands, but neither of them can walk away from.

They love in spite of the pain because they are the only ones who can truly see each other, the only ones who can hold on through the worst of it. And even if they hurt, even if they struggle, being together is still better than being apart.

[danggerine]

going insane thinking about the harrow and palamedes friendship. harrow, who has never met another necromancer her age forming a bizarro 3D chess rivalry while pal worries about her safety at every possible turn. harrow, who is up to her eyebrows in paranoia and secrecy, trusting the sixth house with gideon unconscious and hurt, letting them into the ninth house quarters unsupervised. if “i cannot conceive of a universe without you in it” is goth for i love you, “death first to vultures and scavengers” has got to be goth for i love you (platonic). pal’s first reaction when harrow comes into his bubble in the river is to scoop her up in a hug, and at this point she doesn’t remember anything about him because cutting out all her memories of gideon is impossible without cutting out memories of the sixth, but she still makes him a skelehand to inhabit anyway. when harrow’s memories are finally whole, she tells dulcinea she couldn’t face pal knowing that his pen pal girlfriend died on her account, but the next time she “faces” him, palamades’s soul is in someone else’s body and harrow’s body is full of nona’s soul. he spends six months protecting and caring for harrow’s body (and nona obv), believing in the possibility of bringing her back to it the same way cam believed in him. “god, do you know i miss harrow terribly.” and by the time harrow comes back to her body at the very end of ntn, pal is gone forever, fully pauled. the last time harrow and palamades see each other as their complete selves is in canaan house, alive and unlyctored. two of the smartest and loneliest people in the solar system meet each other in the worst of circumstances and spend the rest of the story dancing around each other as fragments of themselves, trying to care about each other in the interim but never fully meeting like they did the first time. a friendship made almost entirely of missing the other person. “do you know i miss harrow terribly.” god. i need to lie down

[quibbs126]

I think it’d be funny if you had a version of Megatron and Optimus who had the whole “were once friends (or more) but fell out and hate each other and are probably now on opposite sides”

But like, not with each other. They separately both have this with some other characters. They kind of just know each other as that bastard running the other side

[spacedlexi]

maybe if i just put these screenshots together youll understand why i think their relationship just Works so well as it pertains to the characters and themes of S4 in general

neither of them know what theyre doing, but theyre figuring it out Together. the old ways are dead. and together theyll build a new future thats worth fighting for

[mars-ipan]

some postgame doodles for pride month