#and it’s easy enough to give them water and food when I’m taking care of the orchids in here

[obbystars]

Drown in the Deep

Synopsis: Drown your sorrows away into the deep dark ocean where it can’t be found. Feel its cold embrace and let the water in. Maybe then, you’ll see him again when you no longer feel anything.

CONTENT WARNING: The reader very much intends to die/get themself killed, detailing how they’d love to drown in the abyss.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Possibly OOC / Established relationship, can be interpreted as either married or not but they are living together / Angst (Hurt w/ eventual comfort) / Death + blood (not the reader despite the synopsis and content warning) / Not really a happy ending honestly

(This is VERY self-indulgent I love hate Sebastian. Also a bit of experimentation and playing around with his character. I’m not so good on romance stuff, so I hope what’s here is to your liking. Also rewrote some parts A LOT due to idea change/read up on lore and realized things didn’t add up here. I think I’ve got most of it covered though. Anyway I love how a few runs of playing Pressure for the first time, I died to A-60 HAHAAAAA kill me.)

Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune

A chance to be freed from your criminal record, and a reward worth to last for a very, very long time. As they always say, “High risk, high reward,” and the risks were certainly high. You could very much die. It was a chance anyone crazy enough would take.

But you didn’t sign up for this for the reward. You didn’t care about it in the slightest. To you, this would be an easy way out. An escape from this dreadful life fate had decided for you. So here you are, sitting in a submarine with three others in silence. There’s no telling on how deep you’re going, they never bothered to tell you how exactly far it was nor the possible dangers you’ll be facing. You’ll welcome anything if it means you won’t wake up again.

Still, you wondered why things went the way it did. Everything was fine until your partner was framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Nine murders, to be exact. You were there for the trial. You saw and heard everything. You kept your cool throughout all of it. You were hoping, praying to whatever god is out there to show them he was innocent. None of it mattered in the end.

After the trial, you went straight home, not even bothering to listen to your family who was also there. By the time you entered your shared home and locked the door behind you, you stood in silence for a while. You didn’t know what you were feeling at that very moment. You felt hot tears beginning to swell up, and your vision beginning to blur. Your legs eventually give out and you fell to your knees. You muffled your sobs with your hand as you curled up on the floor.

You couldn’t get yourself to calm down for a while. You don’t even know how long you were laying there once you feel your tears dry up and the sound of your heart beating rapidly leaves your ears. You don’t know what to do.

He was imprisoned and sentenced for execution for the nine murders you know he didn’t cause, but that didn’t matter. You weren’t there when it supposedly happened. You couldn’t prove anything. You were powerless to do anything.

Many early mornings were spent struggling to even leave the house, let alone the bed itself if you even managed to drag yourself to bed. You were too exhausted to even try for most. When you did manage to begin your day, you quickly became aware that everything is so much more irritating. People talking to you, certain noises you hear, how your food tastes… You just wanted to go back home and waste away.

As for majority of your nights, they have been spent just curled up in bed and crying until you eventually exhausted yourself. Gripping anything that resembled or had traces left of him and holding it close, hoping just the mere fleeting scent of him lulls you to sleep. Feeling the cold and empty space beside you and being reminded he’s gone, as if the reminders from your family weren’t already enough.

You know your family has been trying to contact you, sometimes even coming to the house, but you’ve ignored them every time. You don’t want to see them. You don’t want to talk, to hear, or to even think about them. You just wanted to be left alone.

A few years had gone by since then but you didn’t feel any better than before. You weren’t sure if you felt worse. Maybe it was because you felt numb nowadays.

Before you knew it, you soon find yourself behind bars. What you did, you don’t know. If you really did it, you didn’t care. You don’t know how long your sentence is, but you don’t care. You don’t know if whatever you did caused any deaths, but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You just wanted to drown in your despair, and this… “job offer” seemed promising. Retrieve a crystal deep inside a facility hidden in the deepest parts of the ocean.

To be so deep underwater to where the sun does not shine, to drift endlessly as water fills your lungs and it becomes so unbearably cold. To where you can’t feel anything anymore, not your body nor your emotions. To just feel the cold water and see nothing but darkness as the water pulls your body to wherever it so desires. Perhaps your remains could become the next meal for whatever lurks in the ocean’s abyss. Your body would never be found. You’d be gone without a trace.

So you signed up, knowing they don’t expect you to return. You don’t either. You don’t plan on getting that crystal, and you don’t plan on returning alive.

The shotgun shell directed at your neck on the diving gear given to you seemed promising as well.

If there is an afterlife, maybe you can see him again there. That sounded nice. You just wish you weren’t sent down with three other people. You never thought it’d be so hard to die in a place where risks of death were incredibly high. Perhaps it was because they wanted to use each other to get the reward for themselves, so they kept each other alive as long as possible. Covering each other’s eyes when the shark was outside the window, turning off another’s flashlight when an odd black figure appeared in the dark, saving each other from the creature inside the lockers… They weren’t going to let such easy bait be killed so easily, not this early.

Still, you strayed close behind as they often checked if you were still there. You kept your head low, until you heard another pair of footsteps from behind you.

Strange… The other three are already in front of you… And they’re just looking through drawers for anything useful.

The footsteps are getting louder and faster. You turned around just in time to see a strangely humanoid, armless figure running at you. It yelped the moment you locked eyes on it, immediately turning tail and running away.

“What the hell was that?!” One of the other expendables exclaimed.

Both of you walked back into the previous room to see where it possibly came from. There was a hole in the wall, shaped exactly like the creature they just saw.

“So they’re really in the walls, huh…” they then lightly punch your shoulder, “Hey, good job. I didn’t even hear it until it made that weird sound before it ran off,”

You say nothing.

“Come on, let’s keep going,”

You looked at them as they rejoined the others then back at the hole. You wished you didn’t turn around.

After a few more doors, the lights suddenly flickered. The one closest to you grabbed you and had you hide in a locker. Maybe they picked up on what you’ve been trying to do. You did willingly look into the eyes of the shark just outside the window, and they had to cover your eyes and drag you along with them. You also opened a locker that was already occupied by a strange creature coated in black and, what you assumed were, purple eyes. You hoped they’d leave you behind to be devoured by it, but you were pulled out and was patched up as best as they could do it. The damage wasn’t too severe, but still. There just had to be a spare medical kit in the room.

Maybe you weren’t being so discreet about it.

There were only three lockers in the room you were currently in and none in the room prior. They pressed on to the next door ahead. You were about to open your locker to step out into the path of the oncoming creature, but it zipped by you in an instant. It was much faster than what you’ve been dealing with.

You hear the others leave their locker followed with a quick flash of the flash beacon. You slowly step out of your locker and follow them into the next room to meet up with the other person. The one in front of you pulled out their flashlight, but ended up tripping over something. You stopped walking as they shine their light over what made them trip.

It was the one who ran ahead to find a spare locker. There was no blood or any signs of injury, but they weren’t moving and their eyes were still wide open. The other two tried to get them to respond, even shaking them, but they remained unresponsive. It was almost like they were just left an empty shell.

You restrain yourself from speaking as you would’ve called them an idiot for giving up a hiding spot in favor to make sure their bait stayed alive for a little longer, only to get killed in the process. Only 27 doors have been opened. Surely not all of you can survive much longer.

By the 35th door, one of them had used a code breacher to open a door without the keycard. Once the door slid open, a large creature with a smiling grey mask was seen on the other side of the door. Before they could react, it lunged towards them and instantly killed them on the spot before retracting their hand as it gets caught in the door while it was sliding shut. The blood splattered all over the floor and even reached you and the other expendable beside you.

By the 47th door, the lights flickered as you searched through a room off to the side. You can hear what you can describe as a distorted chorus faintly echoing down the hall, and soon a loud scream followed with multiple banging against a locker. The noise stopped as you walked to the door leading back to the path you’re supposed to take and you only see the aftermath. A fresh pool of blood and a destroyed locker. There was no body. The creature responsible is no where to be found.

You were alone now. Finally.

You kept your head low as you continued on, not bothering to search through the drawers for anything. Your body is starting to ache at this point. You opened the 50th door leading into a dimly lit corridor.

“Need to stock up?”

You looked up as you see the vent’s cover fall over. You turned around, then back towards the vent. You can see the next door ahead that requires a keycard, but you can’t find it from out here. You didn’t have a code breacher either as the others you were previously with had used them up.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” the strangely familiar voice beckons.

Had he not spoken twice, you would’ve thought you were hallucinating. Or maybe you are right now. A sort of “false hope,” so to speak. Not to mention how you can just barely recognize the voice. You’re having a hard time processing it after everything.

With no where else to turn, you walk to the vent and slowly crawl through. The room was dark, but lit up as you made it to the other side. You managed to get a good look at him, not exactly expecting some sort of fish-human hybrid.

“Ah, there you-” you see how his smile quickly disappears and his eyes widened once he sees you.

You only stare at him, tilting your head slightly to the side. He looked like he had just seen a ghost which wouldn’t be so far off considering what you had to witness for the past 49 doors, but why was he looking at you like that? He cautiously lowered himself down, close enough to your height but still far enough for some space.

You instinctively, though slightly, moved away as his hand moved closer to your face. That was until he finally spoke.

“[Name]..?”

You stepped back upon hearing your name leave his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him, “How do you…?”

Then it finally registered in your head. You’re not just hearing things, that voice was his.

Your eyes widened, now feeling his cold hand against your cheek, “S-Sebastian?“

“Yes…! Yes!” He nods, smiling widely, “It’s me!”

You couldn’t hold back your tears at all. The moment he confirmed it was really him was what finally broke down your walls. The last time you had cried this much was when he was to be executed. You had to hold onto his hand to keep yourself standing. He seemed to sense that as his third limb pulled you closer to him and held you in a tight embrace. You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed until his grip on you got a bit too tight.

“W-Wait, Sebastian-!” You cried, “Let go!”

He gasps, immediately pulling away. You winced as you gently rubbed your arm. You looked up at Sebastian again and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you’re still alive. I have so many questions. Can I-?”

Sebastian stops you there, “Hang on. Before I get to answering your questions, I have one tiny question for you,” he suddenly towers over you as he yells, “How the hell did you get here?! And why the hell did you sign up for this?! Didn’t they tell you the risks? That you could very much die?”

You jumped at his sudden change in tone and almost fell back. His tail had went to cover the opening of the vent in case you ultimately decided to make a run for it. What do you even tell him? That you signed up just to die? No other reason. How could you tell him that?

“I-I… Well, yes, they did. I just- It’s because…” you don’t know what to say.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands. You swear you heard a hiss in his voice, “Of all people, why did you have to end up here?”

“I signed up for this because…” you paused, “Specifically because I wanted to die. I knew what I was getting myself into, Sebastian. They didn’t tell me anything specific,”

“Of course those idiots didn’t…” He scoffed, “They don’t expect you or the others to return,”

“I never planned to. I couldn’t care less about this so called crystal they told me I was supposed to retrieve,” you looked away, “Honestly, I don’t even remember what I did to end up here… Maybe I did something that killed a few people, or maybe I was framed like you,”

Sebastian calmed down a little and had moved back as you spoke. He repositions himself so that his back was against the wall and his tail would nudge you towards him.

“You said you signed up with the intention to die here,” he then says, “Why?”

You sit beside him as his tail slightly curls around you, “You were sent for execution and confirmed to be dead. I just couldn’t live with the fact that I couldn’t see you,”

His looks at your bloodied clothes and noticed bandages through some of the holes in your uniform. He points to it, “Are those..?”

“It’s from this weird black tentacle creature in a locker. It’s nothing too serious, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He muttered a name you didn’t quite catch and he quickly moves on, “And the blood?”

You shake your head, “It’s not mine,”

He lets out a sigh of relief at that. It was finally your turn to ask questions.

“Sebastian, how did you survive?”

“Was picked up by Urbanshade before I was supposed executed. Guess they decided it’d be better if I was officially declared dead,”

“And you became this during that time?”

“You could say that. It’s, uh… It’s a long story,”

He doesn’t want to discuss it and you knew that was the case. So, you didn’t question it further. You have a good feeling you may have an idea now that you noticed a document on the table. Whatever was in there might have the answers to most of your questions, but you’re not sure if you even want to read it if he lets you. The mere thought of what could be mentioned in there makes you sick.

There’s still one other that you desperately want an answer for.

“We’re… not leaving this place, are we?” You questioned, not looking at him, “At least, I’m probably not thanks to this diving gear… One shotgun shell pointed directly at my neck, and if I even try to take it off, tamper with it, or leave this place,”

You stopped there. Both of you knew. Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment, “I can get both of us out of here. I just need more time,”

More time. How much more time before your body can no longer keep going? You want to believe him, you really do, but you really might actually die here.

How ironic. You came here because you wanted to die. You watched the others die before your very eyes without much of a reaction. All of a sudden, you feel your stomach drop.

You’re afraid to die.

[luveline]

HI MLLLL! I absolutely loved your fainting fic with James! Can you write like a part a part 2 or like a follow up where reader starts realizing that James isn’t as bad as she thought and she falls for him as he takes care of her bc he’s really worried? I love them sm 🥹

James takes care of you when you faint

James is acting weirder than usual… sort of… nice? fem, 1.2k

The days after you faint are just as hot, but you come into work. You can’t afford to miss it, and it’s not as though you’ll make the same mistake twice. 

The memory of what happened is hazy at the start. James had just opened the window, the breeze that filtered in cooling your hot skin. You’d felt sick, you’d tried to stand, and your head had gone blank. 

You woke with your face in James’ hand. You can remember it if you think about it enough, his head tilted down toward you, the sunshine on his skin, his soft smile. He’d felt like a different person. 

You’d felt different. 

“Can you send me that information from the lab, please?” 

You glance away from your computer, eyes tired. “Sorry?” 

“For the, uh, Mr. Nguyen?” James asks. “You didn’t send them to me. I can’t do them if you don’t send them.” 

“Right.” You blink away the phantom of his hand on your cheek. “Okay.” 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

That’s all he asks. Every day since you passed out, at various times and in various ways. Are you okay? Are you alright? Is it too hot in here? Do you want to swap desks with me? That last one had been a little patronising. You’d told him to leave you alone. Your desk is right next to the radiator in winter, it’s prime real estate, and you’re not giving it up just because you got a bit hot. 

“I’m fine,” you murmur, turning back to your computer to open outlook. “Just thinking.” 

“About what?” 

“About you not talking to me.” 

“Funny.” 

You drag and drop the paperwork for the tests he’d wanted. It’s easy to render an invoice but you hate doing it because it involves a lot of talking back and forth with clients. James, on the other hand, loves to talk. 

“There, sent it,” you say.

“Thank you.” 

Awkward. You pretend to be busier than you are for a few minutes, stealing company time without remorse. James types up an email beside you, the click of his keys quick and loud in your ears. 

Remus pops a pen lid across the way, scribbling onto a post it note that he sticks on his monitor. You know what time it is from the sounds alone. A half a minute later, Sirius slinks up from the front of the office to wrap his arm around Remus’ shoulders, sing-songing, “You’re coming with me, handsome.” 

“Are you coming?” Remus asks James. 

There’s a lapse of quiet. You stare at your computer, aware of a silent conversation, but not privy to its content. “I think I’ll stay,” James says eventually. 

“Okie dokie. Y/N, do you want to come, lovely?” Remus asks. “It’s not too hot.” 

“I’m fine,” you say, “thanks. Thank you.” 

You don’t feel like yourself since you fainted. You’d hoped it would go away once you had a better night’s sleep, flooded your system with cold water and good food, but you can’t kick it. You have no energy, no want to do more than turn up for work and go home again, and you know what it is that’s making you feel this way, but you can’t admit it to yourself. It crops up in your mind unbidden and you push it back down. 

“Sirius never used to act like that.” 

“What?” 

“Sirius. He was never like that when we were growing up. Love makes him pathetic.” 

Love is a tender touch. Sirius had laid his arm over Remus’ shoulder without any hug or kiss, but it was as loving as either. To touch someone like they need a kind hand. 

Like James had held your face. His arm behind your back as he led you to the break room. 

“Do you wanna come with me?” James asks. 

You hold in a second confused, What? He’s standing now, you hadn’t noticed him moving, his water bottle in hand as he pushes his chair back under the desk. 

“Don’t wanna leave you here and have you smash your head in when there’s no one around. Imagine the clean up.” 

You get up on impulse. You grab your drink, and the back of your chair, and you stand there wondering if you’re about to be dizzy again. Your chest feels tight, but that weight of unconsciousness doesn’t come. 

“Hey,” James says. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not like you today.” 

There’s a softness in his voice you can’t believe. “Can I eat lunch with you?” 

You wish that you said it to avoid the question. James wrinkles his nose, your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, but then he says, “I just invited you first.” 

“I… have to get my stuff from the fridge.”

“Me too.”

You walk slowly, worried it’s a joke, another stupid joke, but James comes up behind you and his hand graces your shoulder with the barest pressure. You can smell something sweet and warm on him, like jojoba oil. Maybe argan. “Sure you’re okay? You look peaky. Is it the heat?” he murmurs.

“It’s supposed to rain tonight.” 

“You can’t answer anything, can you?” James laughs with a vocal fry that goes straight to your chest. “I could ask you how many fingers you’d have and you’d tell me you have two hands.” 

James walks with you to the kitchen, where you gather your food and warm it in the microwave. He leads you to the break room, and makes sure to choose a table with enough space for you, even while people he’s friendly with beckon him forward. They look at you with unashamed curiosity, but James pretends not to notice so you do too. 

You’re expecting a joke. Aw, look, we’re finally on a date. Or Wow, you know how to use a spoon, I had no idea you were so dexterous. 

“Did you see they’re making a new movie about those aliens? The ones who can hear you everywhere you go?” 

You squeeze your spoon. “Uh, no, I didn’t see it.” 

“It looks awesome. I’ll show you the trailer on my computer after lunch, it looks just as good as the first two. That actress, the one with the really nice eyes is in it.” 

You have no idea who he means. James talks to you like a friend. He offers you some of his papris and he passes you a napkin from his pocket when you get food on your hands. James Potter might actually be a really nice guy. All it took was for you to garner his pity for him to show it. How pathetic you must seem to need it. 

“How do you feel now?” he asks as you clip the lid back onto your Tupperware. “You look better. Do you feel better?” 

“I’m fine, James.” 

“You frown so much I can’t tell.” He butts his knee against yours. “Alright, batten the hatches, I’m gonna carry you back to your desk.” 

“Why?” you ask in a rush. 

“Can’t fall if you don’t walk.” 

“James, don’t try it. I’m serious.” 

“You don’t sound serious. You sound like you want me to carry you.” 

“I’ll report you to Human Resources.” 

“For what? Being helpful?” 

“Harassment.” 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna catch you this time.” 

[charliemwrites]

what if Price is literally the only one to come out of a mission unscathed so while Ghost, Soap, and Gaz are in the infirmary, Price has to go take care of reader?

Oooooh now we’re talkin’ anon. A couple people said price was mean when I introduced him to reader….. what do you guys think this time?

You know before the door even opens that something is Wrong. You know because Simon is late again and last time he was late, Johnny came to babysit.

It’s not johnny that comes in the door.

You happen to be slipping from the kitchen with a bowl of marshmallows when Price walks through the door. You freeze. He freezes. Slowly, his eyes fall to the marshmallows in your hand… and your puffed out cheeks stuffed full of them.

“Have you had dinner?” he asks.

You look very far away. “Mmm….”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Mm!” You make a show of chewing.

He huffs in amusement and drops his bag at the door. Your eyes flick to it with concern, shuffle on your feet when he moves closer.

“Remember me?” he asks when you finally lose your nerve and take a step back.

You swallow the last of the sugar and nod. “Captain Price.”

“Attagirl.” He beams. “You can call me Price, little one. Or John, but only if you’re nice.”

You frown at him, hugging you bowl to your chest.

“Don’t give me that look, I’ve heard all of soap’s horror stories.”

You huff, scrunch your nose. Where is Johnny, anyway? Simon said that he’s the designated “babysitter.”

“Everyone’s laid up in hospital right now, so it’ll just be me and you.”

You can’t keep the nervousness off your face.

“H-how long…?”

“Few days, at least.”

You frown. That’s not specific enough. He doesn’t explain further.

When he takes another step forward, you take two back, heart starting to pick up.

“Dunno why you’re so afraid of me, little one, but look. I just want to get some proper food in you, yeah? You look like you haven’t eaten and Simon will have a fit if he finds out.”

You swallow and nod, but don’t creep closer. He doesnt press this time.

“Alright, how’s this, you keep snacking on those while I get dinner ready. But you come eat when I call, yeah?”

Seems… reasonable. You nod and retreat to the couch, eyes never leaving him.

It’s not, uh….. easy. You can’t pinpoint why you’re so skittish. He’s not done a thing to make you afraid. Not one! Is even a pretty decent cook.

Later that evening, you try to retreat to your room, but he click his tongue, calling your attention. He holds out a hand, coaxing.

“C’mon, stray. Don’t you wanna watch your shows?”

You try to find excuses, but he just sits there patiently, watching. Eventually you cave, creeping closer. Hesitate at his hand, just out of reach. He wiggles his fingers teasingly. You carefully slip around to the other side of the couch and curl up.

He allows it for a little while. At some point he gets up, gets a water that he sets in your hands. When he sits down again, it’s much closer than before. You finally find something like annoyance, grumbling and trying to press into the arm of the couch.

“Listen to you,” he chuckles, reaching for a scritch. “So dramatic.”

And this time you do get your teeth in him. Bite down and then almost immediately realize what you’ve done. You go still, mouth still clamped around the meat of his thumb.

When your eyes venture up to his, he looks… amused. “Are you happy with that choice?”

You shake your head very carefully.

“Would you like to change it?”

You carefully unlatch, running your tongue over your teeth.

“There a reason you’re biting?”

You always have a reason to bite, the hell kind of question is that? You scowl.

“Too close. Back up.”

“Simon says you need cuddles.”

You hmph. “Simon’s not here. I don’t even like cuddles.”

“Oh, we’re lying now is that it?”

You make a frustrated noise and try to climb off the couch. Price sighs and snags your shirt, keeping you from getting far.

“Stop it!” you cry, pressing your hands to your face. “I’m scared because you keep pushing! I want Simon. I wanna be alone.”

His expression softens. “I know, little one, I’m sorry. I have to push because I need to make sure you’re being taken care of. Can’t do that if you’re hiding away, understand?”

You make a helpless noise, tears boiling over.

“Are they okay? I want them to be okay, even if they’re the worst.”

“They’re alright, lovely. They’ll be here to visit you soon. Come here? I don’t have to touch you, but just come sit and calm down. Sip some water.”

You do as your told, upset and exhausted. Price keeps his word and gives you a little more room, not touching. Even offers a pillow for you to hug. It still smells like Simon.

“Now look. I know I’m not Simon, but I can’t do things the way you like if you don’t give me a chance to try,” Price explains. “No more running. Compromise with me.”

You nod, and even go so far as to press your knee against his thigh. He nods, offers you a smile that is… rather nice now that you can manage to look at his face.

“Good girl.”

“That’s for Simon.”

He pauses, looks thoughtful. “Attagirl?”

You nod.

“See? You’re alright. Now settle in. One more episode and then bed time, yeah?”

You nestle down into the cushions. Don’t make it one more episode before conking out.

[mothiir]

Fulgrim’s Guide to the Care and Keeping of Your New Pet Human

so this is inspired by the space marine husbandry posts floating about, but because it’s Konrad it got quite dark 😅

-

Darling Konrad, words cannot convey my delight that you have decided to welcome a human into your home. They are such wonderful companions, and so rewarding — but since it is your first time owning one I thought that I would put together a little guide for you!

Your humans first days at home:

I think it is simply wonderful that you’re adopting a rescue human — the Great Crusade has left so many of the poor dears without a home to call their own! You mentioned in your letter that you found her after the fall of Mercodia VI — am I right in assuming that she is one of the survivors of that little unpleasantness? If so, she may well be even more wary than normal, but don’t worry. Humans have quite short memories, and given enough time and care she’ll soon forget the fate of her family and friends. After all, they were awful traitors and got what they deserved for defying Father’s will — but in the meantime, don’t take anything she says personally. She’ll be upset and confused and will quite possibly lash out at you. I would advise letting her settle in on her own for a few days— maybe even a week or so. Put her in a room where your sons can’t trouble her (I’m sure the sweet little bats mean well, but they will play far too roughly for her), and give her some food and water. If you hear her crying, don’t worry — this is all very new for her, and she is probably quite overwhelmed. Eventually, she should calm down, and start exploring the room more thoroughly. Humans can be escape artists, so make sure it is well-secured. When you are ready to interact with her, I recommend skipping her morning meal so you can feed her yourself, therefore creating a positive association — you are the bringer of food! Don’t try and hand feed her; place the food on a plate and slide it towards her. Let her get used to eating with you in the room. She will probably be quite grubby, and humans are by nature fastidious creatures, so offer her a wet cloth and a bowl to clean herself, and a change of clothing. Avert your eyes if she makes use of either. Humans — especially female humans — do not like being watched while they disrobe. The key to helping your human settle in is consistency and patience! The initial adjustment period will be difficult but I promise you it will all be worth it.

Feeding:

Humans are relatively easy to feed. They require far less nutrition than your average Astartes and they will eat pretty much anything. However, in order to keep your human in the pinnacle of health I suggest a varied diet with plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, and lots of clean water. Humans enjoy sugar, but make sure you don’t give her too much — it’s bad for her teeth. If you give her a meal she does not eat, do not get angry with her: humans can be picky eaters. Ask her what sort of food she would like to be given in future. Keep a note of what food she prefers. Food is an excellent way to build trust, as I noted above, and a great conversation starter. Just please do not tell her that you consume human flesh — humans tend to be squeamish about such things.

Grooming:

I have included some soap, shampoo and conditioner with this letter — I appreciate that you might not know quite how to use them, but present them to your human and I assure you she will be most grateful. Humans enjoy keeping themselves clean — indeed, it can be very sweet to watch them cover themselves with bubbles! — and I am sure she arrived into your keeping quite disgusting with the remnants of battle.

It probably goes without saying, but just to be clear: do not let her bathe with or near your sons. They will probably get a little overexcited. When they have learned to pet her nicely, then they can interact with her — but always under your supervision.

I have also included some clothes. Part of the joy of having a human is being able to dress them up, and it can be a fantastic bonding experience for you both. However, do not force it. Present her with the options and let her pick one. If there is one you would rather her wear, introduce it slowly — let her choose between that option, and something hideous. Don’t force her — everything should be done gently, coaxing her along. And that brings us to our next point —

Training:

I was going to call this section ‘discipline’ but I thought that sent the wrong idea. You should never punish your human as you would an Astartes. She is breakable in more ways than one — not only physically frail, but mentally as well. The sort of rough treatment that your sons would shrug off could quite easily kill her.

Instead of punishing undesirable behaviours, redirect her focus. For example, as I mentioned above she may be quite upset with you for burning her planet and flaying the inhabitants. This is a natural behaviour — that is, the human pack bonding instinct — but expressed poorly (that is, through denying the supremacy of the Emperor’s will). Do not punish her for being angry at you; instead, work on healthier outlets for her pack-bonding instincts. It may be a little earlier for her to pack-bond with you, so I’d suggest getting her something she can pack-bond with instead. A puppy is always a good option, though if you do decide to do this please ask me for breed recommendations, because I have seen the dogs that are native to Nostrames and I do not think they are suitable pets for an ork, let alone a human.

She may try and escape. Once again, this is her natural behaviour to explore and colonise. Try playing hide and seek with her, or encouraging her to wander the ship under your supervision.

Naming:

Your human probably comes with her own name, but to answer your question — yes, you can change it. In order to get her to answer to the new name, inform her that this is her new title, and reward her every time she responds to it. It might be difficult, but not impossible.

Regarding the name itself: none of the names First Captain Sevetar suggested are acceptable. Most aren’t actual names. Please do not take his advice in naming your new pet.

Spaying/neutering, the physical, are you really planning to — The other stuff:

I understand that the physical side of your relationship with your human is your primary concern at present, as you mentioned in your letter. Repeatedly. And although I do appreciate the detail you went into when describing her assets, I would recommend that you do not repeat most of what you wrote to her. I understand that you think ‘your face looks better on your skull than it would on my trophy wall so you get to keep your face’ is a compliment — and it is! — but humans are not quite as au fait with the finer points of language as we are, so she will probably take it the wrong way.

I am not saying that you cannot progress to greater intimacy with your human — I have been married four times (to women, despite what Russ likes to say), and it is quite the experience. However, I really must urge that you give her time to settle in and become accustomed to your presence, so she is more likely to reciprocate your advances.

When you feel she has started to warm to you a little, write to me again and I can help guide you through the next stage of human ownership. It is a marathon, not a sprint, but all the more rewarding for it!

As an aside — whatever Captain Sevetar says regarding intimacy is wrong. Do not listen to his advice. Do not do anything he suggests. If anything, do the opposite.

Forever yours, and all the love in the galaxy,

Fulgrim

[littlewigglers]

Okay I’ve never asked on tumblr but I just found your page and I’m OBSESSED!!! I want to get/make a Vivarium/bioterrarium for millipedes and isopods and I can’t WAIT!! Please please if you have any advice at all, I’d love to hear it! Where to get supplies, the buggies themselves, how to handle them, what do you do if they get sick, how much space to they need for how many there are, etc? Your buggy babies are so cute!!

First off thank you! I love all my little guys as well <3

I ramble kinda a lot so I'll put this under a read more.

For advice I'm still very much a novice when it comes to keeping but I'll tell you what I can!

For tanks I got my glass ones second hand or ones made my the store I buy used to buy my millipedes from, you'd be surprised how cheap you can get a nice big one! For Acrylic THESE are the ones I've had the best luck with not warping BUT they sometimes have kinda blurry parts on the plastic, but still I'd say good for the price if you can't afford glass. I tape up some of the ventilation holes to keep more moisture in.

For soil that ISN'T bought from a specialist stores(Sometimes I can't afford it) I use Peat free compost, paired with leaves and rot wood I buy off ebay stores that sell bug/reptile products, I mix them together with some water and leave them in a tub for 1 week to soften up the leaves. Some people go out and get their own leaves and wood but I'm not really in an area to do that so I can't give advice on that. It's important to keep it moist BUT NOT WET!

Heat mat! You want one to put on the SIDE of the tank and not under it, just one would be enough. I have a timer plug for mine so they're on a few hours a day on and off all day. If you REALLY wanna spoil them then I've seen a few people use reptile headlamps.

For moss and plants I again just buy it off ebay in sheets and give it a cheap over to make sure there are no hitchhikers on it before I put it in the tank. It needs watered and looked after for a while for it to take to the tank. Carpet moss is mostly for looks while sphagnum moss is used to keep moisture in areas and should be water/sprayed often. I have a little fern plant in my tank rn they seem to leave alone. I know a lot of people use fake plants as well for decor!

You should make a point to put a little temp and humidity monitor in your set-ups as well. The special reptile ones can be expensive so I just but the little ones you put in rooms and have had no issues with them.

Don't forget to give them hides! Cork wood/bark or coconut shells are nice and cheap. You can also use man made items just make sure they can handle the moisture and aren't made of anything toxic to your new friends. Also give them little sticks and things to climb up on. Just make sure the lid is secured so they can't escape.

For food I just use kitchen scraps like carrot peel, cucumber, apples and melon, give them a cuttlefish bone and some dried tiny shrimps in small amounts once a week or so, but you can also use fish flacks instead. But remember! Leaf litter and rot wood is meant to be their main diet for most species.

For the millipedes I would recommend Ivory millipedes as a good starter one, they're lovely in colour and are often up top, hardy as well, and usually you can get them captive bred which I've had much higher survival rates with vs wild caught. For each species you'll have to look up their needs yourself though, there isn't a 100% catch all set up for all species. Woodlice/isopods I'd suggest dairy cows as they're lovely and also very easy to get a hold of. I will say species of Armadillidium(roly poly/pill bugs) are my fave and I'm very biased and want 500 of them.

For handling just be gentle! I wear gloves in a lot of my videos but that because I've incredibly sensitive skin and can't stand soil under my nails. The worse they can do to you is them staining your skin(not all species), or give you a little nibble. Make sure if you're handling to wash your hands off BUT be careful what hand soaps you use! Wash hands after as well some can be toxic to bugs from what I've heard.

For tank size hmm that's hard, usually you want soil as deep as their body but that can be hard, 10-15cm is what I aim for my BIG boys and 7-10cm for my others, deeper is better but sometimes you'll also just never see them again! You'll want a tank at least a few times longer than your pets body or at least big enough for them to filly stretch out in if you get really big millipedes like giants and a 120cm tank is just kinda unrealistic haha.

I do not have a lot of advice for if they get sick sadly, it's kinda of hard to tell honestly and usually when you can it's too late. I would just say don't beat yourself up too much if some pass away sometimes bugs just do that especially if you don't know their history.

Where to get them depends on where you're from and what you want. A ton of reptile/specialist stores will have wild caught which isn't great but they will have the largest range of species and usually also sell all the stuff you need to tank care of them. Ebay is where I've gotten most of my captive bred and I just message people if I've questions about their bugs there.

I think that's everything I can think of,

Again I'm a big novice when it comes to bugs, @onenicebugperday and @crevicedwelling likely know way more than me, though idk if they're open to questions but they likely already have a lot of info on their blogs.

[herwritingartcowboy]

Being The Girlfriend/Wife Of The Archons

A/n: I am taking out Nahida cause she is a child and two ew and no.

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Character(s): Venti, Zhongli, Ei, Focalors,

Warning(s): Slight spoilers , fluff, death, angst,

Readers Gender: Female

Venti-

Everyone knew venti was dating you due to all his songs would have your name in them

Does play music for you when waking up, going to sleep, to relax, even just random times and you do enjoy them

Always there when he is drunk and yes does try to make you drink with him

Can’t sleep without you so please be beside when sleeping

Loves holding your hand walking, sitting, even when eating this man will try to hold your hand

Give him head pats cause when you do it he will melt

Loves resting his head on your chest

Hugs are things he loves to give you

His biggest fear is losing you he may not show it but that is his biggest nightmare

He was terrified when you saw his archon form thinking you will be scared of him but grew more in love with you when you said “I don’t Venti cause I think I’m the most luckiest girl in all of Teyvat

Loves going on adventures with you

A cuddle guy

Does love receiving kisses and giving kisses

You do help him with his braids and style his hair for fun, putting him in fun hair styles

Very understanding

Small spoon

Give teasing but simp energy

Zhongli-

Will pay for all your dates

Tells you stories if you ask if it’s because you are curious or need help falling asleep

Will remind you embarrassing things you did

Did make a contract for you two to stay together forever and it was so cute you had time sign it

Gives you ride in his dragon form

If you ask he will give you advice

Give you all sorts of gifts and if you ever give this man a gift he will die cause he feels so in love and embarrassed

Treats you very fragile cause he doesn’t want to hurt you

Biggest fear is if one of you two forget the other, he doesn’t want you to leave cause he does want to forget you

Loves peppering your face with kisses and if you do it to him his face will turn pink

Big spoon but if you ask he will be a small spoon

Gives you flowers as gifts, knows what each flower means and will tell you

Does make tea for the both of you

Takes walks with you

One time very shyly asked you if he could rest his head on your lap and ever since than he will ask

Gives me loser boyfriend/husband energy

Ei/Raiden Shogun-

Loves you very much but would never say it outloud

Buys you allot of gifts

If you tell her you love her she will be extremely embarrassed

Like Zhongli she is big spoon but wouldn’t mind being small spoon

Loves spending time with you

Always tells Yea Miki about you

Give kisses to your forehead and gets happy when you give her kisses

You two do each others hair while she tells you stories

You have to cook all meals but you do help her or let her be your assistant when cooking

Smiles when think of you

Holds your hand

Always laughs at your jokes no matter how stupid

On dates might order more than enough food but that’s because she wants to make sure you are fed well

Does teach you how to fight

Is also scared of you losing you and not wanting you to get hurt

Has thought about making a puppet like you so if anything were to happen you can truly never leave her

The only person that can make her smile and laugh

Is the girlfriend that will say “She asked for no pickles”

Focalors-

Always impressed by anything you do

Likes tasting new treats with you

Does your hair in cute styles and compliments you allot

Very easy to talk to

She loves telling all sorts of things

You two feel very calm in each others presence and can just sit quietly but just love being next to each other

You always tell her you love how smart she is and she gets very embarrassed

Gives you cheek kisses

Does song you lullaby’s

Playing in the water is something you guys did once

Scared that the celestials will do something to you and wants to make sure you are protected

She is a very caring girlfriend

[softtcurse]

Can you feel that old Benicia air?

this fic contains mentions of postpartum depression, please read at your own discretion <3 please note that everything written is fiction and fiction only.

You sighed, another headache taking ahold of your mind while you tried to load the dishes from dinner into the dishwasher. Scrubbing ketchup stains from your plain white dishes.

Chicken nuggets and fries tonight

A guilt at the pit of your stomach as you reminded yourself that you were a terrible mother for giving your growing baby girl such a easy meal tonight. You just couldn’t bring yourself to make a home cooked meal.

Why couldn’t you be like the women on tv? The ones on the food network that made roasts for their family every night, green beans in a butter sauce, with a side of home made rolls? Why did you resort to pulling out a frozen bag of Tysons chicken nuggets and throw them in the air fryer. Just because the pure thought of doing anything else made you sick.

Selfish

You’re a selfish woman YN

Your tears threatening to falls with every wince at the hot water touching your skin. You were clearly on edge and your sniffles being muffled out by the sound of the water splashing in the sink.

You eyes were tired and you knew you looked worse that you felt. That’s saying a lot

“Momma can I please give Ezzie his bottle?”

“No baby you’re going to hurt him” You mumbled in a reply. Your breasts hurt against the material of your nursing bra. Very unattractive in your opinion but it was the only thing your very aching breasts could handle at the time. Having a two month old that depended on you as well as a 3 year old who was learning that developing her own attitude could get her what she wanted most of the time, it was anything but easy.

Whoever told you that it would get better had surely lied to you.

“Please momma!? I’ll be careful!” Mila jumped up and down, her stomps making Ezra squirm in his rocking bassinet. His pacifier escaping his lips and soon enough his face was scrunched up in displeasure. The tight grip pain had in your head only got more intense. His screaming was making your nipples lactate and you didn’t even had a pad to prevent the milk from seeping through.

great

“Mila baby I need you to please go sit down, I told you to be quiet after dinner so you wouldn’t wake up your brother and now he’s awake” You placed the last fork into the dishwasher and made a mental note to start it before you went upstairs to bed once Jack decided to get home.

Mila pouted and stuck her finger in her thumb, a habit you were trying to break before she messed her teeth up but at the moment you had no strength to fight her on it. “Go sit down, now” You raised an eyebrow at her as you walked into the living room. Mila stood still, battling you and making it anything but easy to make your night less stressful. She was three and you knew it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know any better. But fuck would it help to have something go your way.

“When daddy gets home, I’m going to tell him that you weren’t listening to me and he’s not going to take you to the game this weekend with uncle Urban” Picking up Ezra into your arms you rubbed his back softly and kissed his soft cheeks. His whimpers became softer and softer and he was leaning his head to the side, smacking his lips as if you hadn’t just fed him an hour prior. Your nipples were sore and cracked. His constant feeding was taking a toll on them but you were one of those moms that wanted to take the route of breastfeeding before switching Ezra over to formula when he turned 4 months.

“No momma no!”

A empty feeling in the air, you didn’t even notice the front door opening and closing.

You tried to adjust Ezra to your breast after fighting your bra and your shirt. Not he wasn’t even latching on properly.

“Daddy!”

You looked up. A tired smile leaving your lips.

He was home.

“Hey baby girl” Jack smiled and looked down at his little girl. Who had stains on her white new balance shirt that she had just gotten a few days prior. Jack not even noticing it, nor did he care. But in your head you felt as if he was calling you a bad mother.

You watched as your husband lifted your baby into his arms. Pressing kisses to her chubby cheeks as she giggled.

“What did momma tell you about that thumb huh?” His sternness didn’t go unnoticed and you breathed a sigh of relief when Mila took it out of her mouth without a fight.

“Hi mama” Jack said, walking over to you. The smell of the same cologne he had sprayed on this morning still lingering in his clothes. You couldn’t help but take a extra deep breath to see if there were any signs of a woman’s perfume lingering in his clothes. Looking at his neck to see if there were any hickies you missed.

“Hi” You put on your best smile. He leaned over for a kiss and you didn’t taste any artificially flavored chapstick. Pecking down on your lip one more time you savored it.

“I missed you, and this little guy too. Hey handsome” Jack cooed at your baby. Ezra offered him a small baby smile and once Jack kissed his head you watched as his eyes fluttered closed. Long lashes cascading over his plump cheeks.

Why couldn’t you be the mother that could get him to do that?

///

“I’ve been thinking”

“Uh oh”

You joked. Laughing and cracking a smile at Jack as he playfully glared at you through the mirror. You blew him a kiss and shrugged. Continuing to lather the lotion on your skin. Your eyes paying extra attention to your stomach that was gathered up around the top of your breast. Your nightgown fresh out the dryer and you were happy you remembered to put your last load of laundry to dry before you started on dinner. The stretch marks very evident on your skin. You wished that there was some kind of special cream that would make them less noticiable but you had tried everything and it just wasn’t working.

That dream was long gone now.

“Shush you” Jack snorted back a laugh. His hand pressing buttons on the remote trying to find something to watch, before he could lay up in bed and love on you. One of his arms coming to the back of his head and resting there while he looked between you and the TV. “We should take a vacation”

“A vacation where?” You twisted the cap of your lotion back on.

“Where we met” You smiled softly and shook your head at his words. Turning off the light and the only light in the room was from the television which was on low volume due to the kids being tucked in and asleep.

You sighed softly and a yawn escaped your lips as you crawled into bed. Awaiting Jack’s open and inviting arms. His touch was warm, and not just physically.

“Why there?” You asked tiredly. His hand coming up to massage your scalp as you rested on top of his chest. His heartbeat was most soothing and maybe it was how tired you were, but you got lost in the sound of his heart. Maybe it was knowing it was still yours. Or maybe it was knowing that even how you felt he was still with you.

“That’s where it all started. I might my amazing wife, the mother to my kids. Plus we haven’t been there since…sheesh. Since 2020? Before we moved to Kentucky when Mila was a year old….” Jack grinned and kissed your head softly.

“Hmmm”

“You don’t want to?”

“No…I want to it’s just….” you pondered the thought a little bit before you spoke.

“You know you can tell me everything. Baby remember what your therapist said-“

“I know Jack, I know” You cut him off. The lump on your throat

Your silence was defeating to Jack.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up, it’s just I know you liked the back of my hand. I don’t want you to see me as someone who you can’t talk to…”

Your tears soaked his white tee.

“I know…I know” You sniffled and your voice cracked.

“I think it would be good for us. With the kids. We’ve never been with Ezra…it’s new. We’re not here for a little bit. I think it would be good for you”

“I trust you, and I know you’d never do anything to hurt me. I’m just scared…and crazy”

Jack gripped your head closer to him.

“You’re not crazy. You’re going through a tough time. A lot of women do. You’re not the only one pretty girl. I told you that already” You heard his own voice crack.

He hates it when you talked to yourself like that.

“Please don’t cry, not because of me”

“I love you so much, and we’ll do anything to make you feel better again. I fucking promise you that YN”

“I know baby, I know it.” You kissed his chest.

“I missed the Benicia air”

“We’re going back in less that two weeks, I already made arrangements”

“I love you” You said after a few minutes of silence. You missed where home felt like home. Kentucky was home too, but Benicia was somewhere your heart felt soothed. Even if it was for a few weeks or a few days. You needed that time there.

“I love you too”

You held him tighter that night.

[loverhymeswith]

The End is Extremely Fucking Nigh

Day Two of the October Dreams 1K Follower Event

Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x F!Reader

Summary: Holed up in a tiny cottage with Jim, problems and feelings ensue. The title kind of sums it up.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Zombies (kind of), blood, guns, canon-typical violence, language

A/N: Shout out to @a-reader-and-a-writer for plotting this with me <3

“Oi. That fucking hurts.” 

Jim slaps your hand away with a scowl, tugging down his sweatshirt to cover the large bandage wrapped around his waist. The oversized jumper swamps his lithe frame - leaner since you’ve had to resort to rations.

“Well it hasn’t healed then, has it,” you remark, closing the lid of the makeshift first aid kit and stowing it away beneath the sink. “I told you it would take at least another week.”

“It’s fine,” he insists, his expression softening as he grabs you by the shoulders and squeezes. “I’m fine. Would you stop worrying?”

You’ve been this way for the last ten days - overly cautious and over-protective. Ever since Jim went and got himself shot by a bunch of trigger happy soldiers who mistakenly thought he was one of the infected. By some small miracle the bullet missed anything vital, but even so, he’s been out of action for a while.

“Maybe if you stop giving me reasons to worry.” 

You’re only half-joking. Right from day one, when you found him bewildered and wandering around outside the abandoned St Thomas’ Hospital, you knew he was going to cause you trouble. 

You hadn’t wanted company. Had actively avoided it, in fact. Even before the outbreak. You certainly hadn’t planned on rescuing anyone, let alone the enigmatic bicycle courier - you were barely surviving yourself - but after you’d intercepted Jim midway through his first encounter with the Rage virus, you hadn’t been able to shake him.

Six weeks later, you don’t know how you’d survive without him.

“How about I prove it to you, yeah?” There’s a spark in his bright blue eyes and his full lips upturn into the ghost of a smirk; he already knows you’re not going to like his suggestion. “I’ll go on a supply run.”

The thought alone is enough to make your stomach turn. The closest store is easily a day’s walk away and with a company of unbalanced soldiers roaming the nearest city, it’s far too risky to drive.

“Jim-”

“Look,” he releases your shoulders, sliding his palms along your arms until he reaches your hands. “We’re down to our last cup of coffee and I know how cranky you get without your caffeine.”

You’ve noticed it a lot lately. The jokes. The sarcasm. Once the initial shock had diminished and he got a hold of his grief, Jim turned to humour as a coping mechanism, determined to get you to laugh. To smile. And goodness knows, there have been nights when you’ve relied on it. On him. Nights when you’ve felt like giving up. Like falling apart. When the only thing standing between you and taking the easy way out - just as his parents did - is the man before you.

The fact of the matter is, your situation is dire. It’s not just the coffee. The food is running out. Clean water, too. 

“We’ll manage a little while longer,” you lie as he gives your hands a final squeeze and releases you. “Either that, or I can go by myself.” 

You’ve been unwilling to leave his side up until now. You couldn’t risk the chance that the infected - or worse - might descend upon your hideout while you were away, with Jim being far too weak to fight them off alone.

Paying no heed to your plea, Jim starts pulling on a worn pair of boots - a vestige of the previous inhabitants of this cottage, just like the rest of your clothes. He’s careful not to wince as he bends over, although you have no doubt that he’s in pain.

Straightening and facing you once again, he runs a hand through his russet hair. It’s growing out after the hatchet job he performed back when you first met. You hadn’t minded the severe look. It had certainly emphasised his features - high cheekbones, a sharp jaw, and of course, those piercing blue eyes.

But with his hair like this, just a little longer, he seems… softer.

“I just need to get out of this fucking house,” he tells you, shrugging on a thick jacket. “I won’t go far. Promise.”

You glance around the cramped kitchen and concede that your living arrangements have been somewhat confining. The tiny farm house on the outskirts of Manchester has less square footing than your old London apartment, which is an achievement in itself. But personal space doesn’t really factor in when you’re in the middle of the apocalypse. 

It’s not all bad, though. You’ve been sharing the single bedroom under the pretext of safety, but as the weeks have worn on, you’ve come to find Jim’s presence comforting. 

Some nights you wake before dawn to find his arms wrapped around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. By morning, he’s back to his side of the bed and you know better than to mention it. No matter how much you might have warmed to one another, the end of the world is no time for falling in love.

You follow Jim towards the porch and watch as he checks over the old hunting rifle, just one of a handful of weapons the two of you have acquired along the way. Neither of you knew a thing about guns before the outbreak, but you’ve had little choice but to become fast learners.

“At least let me come with you.”

Jim pauses with the rifle slung over his shoulder and one arm outstretched towards the front door, his expression uncharacteristically firm. “You need to rest. When was the last time you got some proper sleep?”

“As if I’ll be able to sleep while you’re gone…” Even as the words leave your mouth, you find yourself leaning against the wall, fatigue fighting your instinct to stay close to his side.

In an unexpected gesture of affection, Jim reaches out and brushes his thumb over the swell of your cheek. “Just sit tight. I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

Despite Jim’s request for you to sit tight, you find yourself pacing the cottage in his absence. You don’t begrudge him the need for space after being holed up in here for the best part of two weeks. Still, you’d feel more comfortable if he wasn’t alone. If he wasn’t still healing.

It’s difficult to pinpoint, but somewhere along the way your feelings towards him have shifted. At first, he was an unnecessary hindrance. A tag along, slowing you down. Quickly though, you had grown accustomed to his presence, his company undeniably preferable to being alone with your own dark thoughts. 

Yet it wasn’t until he’d been shot - until you’d almost lost him - that you realised quite how important he’d become. It was no longer a case of what he could do for you and more a question of whether you could exist without him.

Exhaustion finally claims you and against your better judgement, you find yourself curled up on the corner of the threadbare sofa, drifting off into a restless slumber. Every night since the outbreak, it’s been the same. You dream of crimson flowing through the streets. Of bloodshot eyes and burnt flesh. Of bodies piled high. Mourning all that you have lost. The past, nothing but a distant memory; the future, a destination you will probably never reach.

You wake with a start, plucked swiftly from sleep by the distant sound of tapping against glass. Your thoughts fly instantly to Jim. Scrambling to your feet, you grab the nearest weapon - a baseball bat - and nervously approach the door. 

The eyes staring back at you through the window aren’t the colour of a winter sky at all.

They’re red. 

Infected.

No.

The weeks of tending to Jim must have softened you. It takes a full ten seconds before your brain jumps into gear, recognising the danger for what it is. A death sentence. Because there’s more than one of them. A host of the infected, clawing at the cottage walls in a frenzied attempt to reach you.  

Suppressing your fear for Jim and praying he’s not among the swarm, you stagger back from the door and exchange the baseball bat for the second rifle. You can’t possibly hope to outrun the infected. The neighbouring buildings are at least a mile away and you’ve barely eaten in days. The best chance you have is to pick them off one by one. 

Providing they don’t get to you first.

It only takes another five seconds, just long enough for you to grab a handful of ammunition and ready the gun, before the first bloody hand breaks through the glass. With your heart in your mouth, bracing yourself for the kick back, you squeeze the trigger.

The explosion of the gun echoes throughout the small cottage, temporarily deafening you. When you open your eyes, the monstrous hand has disappeared only to be replaced by a face, coated in blood and filth and twisted into something no longer human. 

You allow yourself the briefest flicker of relief. It’s not Jim. Then, ears still ringing from the first blast, you reload the rifle and take aim. 

This time, the wooden door splinters as you miss the window. 

Shit.

The infected has its head and shoulders wedged through the small gap now. It’s snarling and spitting, crimson eyes wide and thirsting for blood. Your hands, once steady, are shaking, your fingers fumbling with the small golden bullets as you try to jam them into the magazine. 

Where the hell is Jim?

Your next shot finds its target. The infected - or what is left of it - slumps. But it’s a temporary reprieve. In the blink of an eye, the body disappears and another pair of glowing red eyes fills the window space. The onslaught is far from over

Shoot, reload, repeat.

Over and over again, you fire at the door until contaminated blood stains the cottage's wooden floor. But it’s no use. There are far too many of them. For every one of the rage victims you dispatch, another immediately takes its place. 

Further inside the cottage, a second window shatters. Your heart sinks.

You’re surrounded.

A wave of hopelessness pushes you back against the wall as you struggle to catch your breath. The door isn’t going to hold for much longer and there's nowhere to run. You attempt to reload the gun, but your bullets are finally spent, the casings littering the floor. Jim took the second box of ammunition.

Where is Jim?

As a last resort, you flee the porch and hurry up the stairs, locking yourself in the bedroom. Despite the knowledge that it will only buy you a matter of minutes, you huddle against the far corner of the room, clutching the empty gun. This is what it has come to. All these weeks of fighting for survival. The foolishness of daring to hope for a future. Your feelings for Jim. 

Jim.

If only you’d told him how you feel.

But in the end, none of it matters. It was all just borrowed time.

Tears of anger and frustration pool in your tired eyes. There’s banging and clattering and more glass shattering downstairs. The infected are inside the cottage now. You can hear their savage snarls as they scramble up the stairs. It was foolish of you not to save a bullet for yourself.

Any second now…

Too weak to put up a fight, you squeeze your eyes shut as the bedroom door crashes open, choking on a desperate sob. Death has been a constant presence these last weeks; you didn’t think you’d be quite so afraid when your time finally came. But just like the bullets, you’re fresh out of bravery. As you prepare to take your last breath, you send a silent prayer. Wherever you end up, you hope you’re not alone.

But death, painful and bloody, doesn't come. 

Your eyes flash open at the sound of heavy breathing - panting - and a strangled cry tears from your throat. The figure filling the doorway is a terrifying sight to behold: drenched in sweat and blood and wielding a crimson-coated baseball bat, a wild expression on their once-familiar face. It looks as if they’ve clawed their way out of hell.

But they aren’t infected.

You know it by the pale blue eyes staring out at you through the layers of dirt.

"Jim."

The sound of his name seems to break whatever spell he’s under, the ice cold rage in his expression melting into something like recognition as he steps over the infected body lying lifeless at his feet. Beyond him, the cottage has fallen silent. 

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Are you ok? Tell me you haven’t been bitten.” 

“I’m ok.” You’re more than ok. Because he’s here, alive and uninfected. Because he’s saved you.

Jim’s shoulders slump with obvious relief and even with the gun pointed in his direction, there’s no further hesitation. He closes the distance to you in two long strides before pulling you into his arms, his gaze rapidly darting across your face. 

“I thought I was too late,” he rasps, cupping your cheek. “I thought I’d lost you. I can’t fucking lose you. Not after everything that’s happened. I can’t...”

You shake your head, afraid that if you open your mouth to interject, you’ll stumble. Or even worse, that with the adrenaline from your brush with death still coursing through your veins, you’ll say something stupid. Something like-

“I love you.”

You don’t have time to react, much less process Jim’s abrupt admission before his mouth crashes into yours and he’s kissing you. He’s kissing you like you’re the cure. It’s rushed and messy and desperate and so thoroughly Jim.

If he notices the tears that begin to spill down your cheeks he certainly doesn’t comment. If anything, he holds you tighter and kisses you harder.

With every brush of his lips, you can feel a piece of your fractured self falling back into place.

Perhaps the end of the world is the perfect time for falling in love.

October Dreams Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @zablife

[anylady-fics]

Red lights | Hyunjin x F Reader x Bang Chan

• Red lights Mlist

II - Without you being right by my side

The week was pretty weird, but at least Hyunjin seemed happy with his new job, and I started to feel bad about not being able to work somewhere better, so I began looking eagerly. Chris was giving me a bit of support, which I didn't expect, but it was welcome.

At least once a day, I had a few minutes to freak out about breaking up with Chris, but I knew I would be stuck in that situation for a while, at least until I felt stable enough. There were a few things to do before that, too. I had already searched for a few apartments and people needing roommates, just to start moving forward.

Chris noticed I was a bit distant in the last few days and started to act differently somehow. He sent me a box of chocolates and a card at my job, something he had never done before during all the time we’ve been together. I really believed that could be some sign of him turning into someone better, but I was wrong, as expected.

Before realizing that mistake, I really tried hard to bring back the fun and excitement in our relationship that we had in the beginning. I tried wearing some lingerie for him since we fucked almost every night and it was basically the only time his attention was fully on me. He noticed, praised, and fucked me without even taking it off or being careful at all… he ripped my new lacy panties, so I gave up on trying that.

I also tried using some toys, like a butt plug or a small vibrator for my clit, but he didn’t like it at all, telling me that he could do all of that by himself. For the first time in months, he gave me head, and it was really good… it was a shame that he only did it because he got insecure about the toys. So yeah, I failed again at trying.

I was feeling down for trying so hard; it was tiring. It’s really awful when just one side is trying to make a relationship work, be it a friendship, family, or love relationship.

Since Hyunjin and I worked the same hours, we started to leave the apartment together, because we were getting the same bus to go to and come back from work. He talked to me a lot, sharing things about his day, and I was doing the same. Because of that, I realized that I knew more about his life than Chris’s, which was weird. I was trying to get closer to my boyfriend, but it was hard… and with his friend, it was so easy and natural…

Over the weekend, Chris went out to run some errands and finally tackled the grocery list that had been neglected all week. I took the opportunity to clean up the place, and Hyunjin helped me with that. We finished pretty fast, then sat on the balcony to rest a little. It was the first time I had some help with domestic chores, and it was fun... but also sad that Chris never did it.

“The office is huge. I have a good shot of staying there if I graduate soon enough.”

“Did you go back to studying?”

“Yeah! Yesterday, actually.”

“Hyunjin, this is so great! I’m sure you’ll get a good position there.”

“Speaking of that…” He pressed his lips into a thin line before finishing what he was saying. “She was dropping some hints about me having a girlfriend… Did you tell her that I have one?”

I froze, and started to think of a thousand lies to justify myself, but I decided to just tell him the closest thing to the truth.

“I may have…”

“And why?” He took a sip of the water he was holding, and I tried to look away from his lips when I realized I was staring at them.

“Because it would be really inappropriate if she hit on you. She is your boss, kinda…”

“I agree with you, I wouldn’t let that happen, because I really wanted the job. You didn’t have to lie…”

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay. It’s our secret, I guess.” He winked at me, being absolutely charming. “Should we order some food today?”

“I think we should. We’re soooo tired from cleaning up.”

“I think we should grab a beer, too. Would Chris mind?”

I shook my head no, and he stood up to grab the cans, opening mine first and handing it to me. We kept talking for a while, and I started to feel the alcohol after the third can. I felt really light and happy, and Hyunjin was smiling a lot at me, making me a bit dizzy with his beauty.

“There you are.” Chris got home, opening the balcony door, and I felt my smile fading. “I bought what you asked for, babe. What are we going to eat for dinner today?”

“We were thinking about ordering something, since we don’t have anything ready,” I mumbled, feeling the alcohol more, and ignoring how Chris was looking with contempt at the beer cans on the table.

“Fine, I’ll order some pizza.”

We nodded, and Chris used his phone to order the food, letting us know when he did, then telling us he was going to shower.

Hyunjin apparently noticed that his friend was kinda unhappy, and without us saying anything, he took all the cans, washed them, and discarded them before coming back to sit next to me.

“Thanks for that.”

“No big deal. Do you think he’s mad?”

“At you? No.”

“At you…?”

“Maybe.”

I didn't talk about my relationship to anyone because I was always ashamed of it. But Hyunjin had been around for a while, and he had seen things that I didn’t want anyone to see, so I didn’t have that much trouble talking to him, even if I wasn't entirely comfortable.

During dinner, Chris acted normally, so we just ended up dismissing the possibility of him being mad at either of us. Why would he be? He'd never made a scene out of jealousy before, and as he said, he saw Hyunjin as harmless. But he always managed to surprise me, usually in the worst way possible.

I was doing the dishes from dinner, and Chris, after drinking a few beers, was talking louder than he should. It was already inappropriate, but then he made it perfectly clear how much he had lost his mind by groping me in the kitchen. I was drying the dishes and could barely believe he did that, especially with Hyunjin right there with us. It wasn’t a caring hug for his girlfriend. No. He really groped me.

“Chris…?”

“You’re wearing that perfume I like…” He squeezed my waist, trying to kiss my neck, pressing his hardness against my butt.

“Chris… stop.” I tried to push him away, tried to free myself. “Don’t do that in front of other people, please.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung open, still mid-sentence when that madness started. I was so embarrassed that I just froze.

“Maybe Hyunjin should go to his room now, because I’m really in the mood to fuck you.”

“Chris!!!” I pushed him, feeling tears start to burn my eyes, the knot tightening in my throat. “What happened to you? Are you insane?”

“Are you going to deny me just because he’s here?! Like he doesn’t hear you moaning for me every night.”

“Are you listening to yourself now?”

“Chris…” Hyunjin tried to talk to him but stopped when Chris turned his furious gaze on him.

I ran away, unable to hide my tears from the shame I felt, from the disrespect. Did he do that because he was jealous? Trying to prove a point? Why? What did he think would happen?

I got into the room but didn’t lock the door because I knew I’d have to open it when Chris came; it was his apartment, everything in there belonged to him. And apparently, I was some sort of object for him too.

It didn’t take long for him to storm into the room, slamming the door.

“Why did you run? What are you ashamed of?”

“Because of you! The way you treat me in front of other people. You’re ridiculous, Chris. Ridiculous!”

“Maybe if you weren’t acting like a fucking whore and hitting on him, I wouldn’t have to make it clear that you’re mine.”

“Hitting on him...? Do you even hear the nonsense you're saying? I’m not part of your furniture for you to claim possession like that, and I truly hope you never do this again.”

We were screaming, and Chris just lost it, throwing the chair across the room. Then he started to laugh, looking like a crazy man. I had never seen anything like that from him before, so I was really scared. I was sure he was going to beat the shit out of me when he turned to face me. Chris put his hands on his temples, and when he opened his mouth to speak, the door suddenly opened again. Hyunjin entered the room, moving towards Chris when he noticed me standing on the other side of the room.

“Trying to be a hero for what?” Chris shouted, pushing Hyunjin away. “Get the fuck out of my room.”

“Did he hurt you?” Hyunjin's question was directed at me, completely ignoring the push. I shook my head, trying to dry my tears that kept falling. “Chris, let’s go outside. You need to calm down.”

“Outside? Are you both insane? This is my fucking apartment.”

“You need to calm down, or you’re going to do something you can’t undo. Come on, let’s talk.”

Chris stopped and took a deep breath. After looking around, he seemed to realize the huge mistake he made. His posture changed; he lifted the chair from the floor and took a step toward me, but I froze and stopped looking at him, petrified. He looked down, pressing his lips into a thin line, and ended up leaving the room with Hyunjin.

I was losing my breath from fear. I was so sure he was going to beat me that I was shaking. What a disaster that night was. I really needed to get out of there as soon as possible, or I would get beaten in the next fight.

I dressed for bed and was ready to run away to the couch if he returned to the room, but he didn’t. I didn’t hear anyone screaming or anything breaking, so maybe everything was alright between them. I ended up sleeping after crying for several minutes, and when I woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, my heart ached. I couldn’t explain why.

I got up and opened the door, seeing Chris sleeping on the couch, wearing some of Hyunjin’s clothes. Apparently, he had helped my boyfriend take a shower and calm down, which was great, but it wouldn’t erase all the embarrassment from the night before. Nothing would.

I went to the balcony. It was still dark, and I felt comfortable breathing some fresh air, enjoying the silence of the condo, trying not to think about what happened.

The door behind me opened, and I panicked, thinking it was Chris, but when I looked back, I saw Hyunjin's tall and sleepy figure. It was a huge relief.

“Didn’t sleep well, either?” I asked, looking at the dark sky, avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, and it might take a while until I get used to my new schedule. Listen, about yesterday…”

“I don’t know if I wanna talk about it. It was awful, and I’m really sorry you saw that… he’s never done anything like that before.”

“I understand if you don’t want to, but I talked to him. He told me he feels like you’re kinda distant, and he lost it because of that. He thought you and I were... you know. And he knows what he did was wrong. He’s sorry about it. I’m gonna take a night out so you both can talk with more privacy.”

“You didn’t have to do any of this, Hyunjin. And you don’t have to stay out either. I don’t wanna talk to him. Not anymore.”

“I get that, but he seemed really regretful. Don’t tell him I said this, but he cried when I helped him in the bath.”

I raised my brows, surprised by two things: Chris crying and the fact that I didn’t care, not even a little.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you really hear us?”

I turned to face him, wanting to see his expression for the first time since we started talking. Even in the dark, I could see his cheeks turn red. It wasn’t something I would normally ask. But I was so bitter and resentful that maybe I wanted to reach some twisted balance, to justify the horror show that happened. And Hyunjin really affected me in many ways. Maybe I didn’t want to deny that fact anymore.

“I did hear... sometimes.” He took a deep breath, clearly embarrassed. “But lately I’ve been wearing my headphones at night, so don’t worry about it…”

“I see. The day you got your new job, did you hear us?”

“Yeah, that was the first time, actually.”

“Hm.” I leaned against the balcony parapet, facing him, making sure to look into his eyes. “Because that day, I was thinking about you.”

Hyunjin blinked a few times, like he was having trouble processing what I said. I watched his lips get wet as he licked them, ready to say something, but he just chose silence.

“Thank you for all the help.” I put my hand on his shoulder and didn’t wait for an answer. I just opened the door and disappeared from his sight, heading back inside the apartment. When I passed by Chris, I felt a huge relief, noticing that most of my feelings for him were dead after what he did. Maybe that would change, but I was really hoping it didn’t.

When I lay down to sleep, I had to check something. I slid my hand inside my shorts and confirmed what I already knew: I was wet. I felt it right when I said those words to him, and maybe I should apologize later. Or maybe not. It was something to worry about in the morning.

••• X •••

When I opened my eyes, I checked the alarm, and it was still really early. I decided to take a shower and get ready for work, maybe leave a bit sooner just to avoid being there.

I had a quick flashback about the nightmare Chris made me live the night before and about what I said to Hyunjin a few hours back. I did feel some regret, but not enough to apologize yet. 

I was starting to get ready when I heard a few shy knocks on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, babe. Can I come in?”

My emotions were all over the place, and I was really surprised. I didn’t expect him to use so much manners, especially since just a few hours ago, he made sure to remind us that it was his apartment.

“Sure. It’s your room.”

I sat on the bed and crossed my legs, still wearing only a towel around my body. I watched him enter the room, staring at the ground. I could almost believe he regretted what he did, but I knew damn well it could happen again.

“I want to ask you to forgive me.” He knelt in front of me. “Nothing could ever justify the way I acted yesterday. You know that’s not me. You’re so distant lately, I got everything all wrong…”

“Do you know why, Chris?” I took a deep breath, surprised at the guts I found to say at least part of what he needed to hear. “You thought I was unfaithful because that’s you. You keep cheating on me, keep treating me like shit, and I’m still here. Maybe last night you noticed that my patience is ending, and you don’t have me for granted. Not everyone is like you, did you know that?! And for what? What did you want to prove, huh? You not only disrespected me but your friend, too. If I wanted to cheat on you, a jealous scene wasn’t going to stop me, Chris.”

“I know. You’re right.”

“I really hope that it never happens again.” Because you wouldn’t have a chance to do it again.

“It won’t… I’m gonna be better. I’m gonna be a better man for you. Yesterday Hyunjin made me see how stupid I am for not valuing you.”

“Such a great thing to know that you needed someone else to tell you that.”

“I’m an idiot. Forgive me, babe. I love you, don’t wanna lose you.” His hands rested on my knee, touching me gently, a rare thing. “I hope it’s not too late and we can work things out.”

But he had already lost me, little by little, daily. With everything he did or didn’t do. The words got stuck in my mouth because I didn’t have the courage to say them.

“Let’s see. Now I need some space, okay?”

“Sure, as much as you need.”

He left the room, and I was still sitting there, trying to process everything that just happened. He had been an asshole to me a lot of times and always apologized, but that didn't stop him from doing it again. I was a bit happy that he heard me and didn’t argue, just accepted it. Maybe I could find some strength inside me to fight for that relationship, but I was afraid my interests were somewhere else. In somebody else.

I knew this would lower me to the same level as my boyfriend, but I didn’t care anymore. My goals were set, and the first one was to get a good enough job so I could live on my own. In the meantime, I’d make Chris pay, little by little, for all the harm he’d done to me. This included Hyunjin, and I knew he was a much better person than either me or Chris, so that might be the hardest part. But I wouldn’t give up until I succeeded.

[luveline]

i hope you’re feeling better jade!!🫶🫶

i’d love to request zombie!au steve of when he starts to realize he has feelings for reader if you haven’t already done smth like that

zombie au —Steve has some deep thoughts about you. 1.3k

“How are you feeling?” 

Steve bats a branch out of his face. “I’m okay.” 

“Yeah?” You hold the next branch out of his way. “Sorry, guess I’ve asked you that too many times today.” 

Four times, by his count. Steve takes a deep breath, the warm summer air filling his nose, the smell of earth and tree bark an assault for the senses. He has the heavy backpack strapped tight against his chest, the buckle rubbing his skin raw. His thin t-shirt offers no protection. Your coats have been packed away in the second backpack hanging from your left shoulder. You carry the canteens on your right, all six of them heavy with fresh water. You don’t complain. 

“I’m fine, I swear,” he says, squinting at the white sky. 

“You won’t say anything if you don’t feel fine. I just… I don’t want you to throw up again, and I think we can avoid it if you take it easy. If you’re not feeling up to it, that is. Not that you’re not feeling up to it.” 

Steve softens at your overexplaining. You’re used to caring about him a lot and having him snap back at you. He can’t explain it, not without deep introspection —is he emasculated? Defensive? Or just worried he can’t take care of you?— so he doesn’t think about it if he can’t help it. 

It’s harder to ignore when you worry about him. 

“I don’t feel sick,” he says, a promise as he bats another low branch aside and guides you into a clearing, where he pauses. 

“Okay, good.” 

Steve spent the last two days throwing up and recuperating in a shack of a house a few miles back. He gave himself food poisoning eating spaghetti hoops he should’ve known were bad. He doesn’t remember the first day in detail, too busy yacking and feverish, but he does remember your hand on his back. Your gentle hand, your careful fingertips. Remembers you stroking hair away from his mouth. 

It was the first time he’d realised you were his friend. It’s a shameful thing, to have been with you for this long, and to have been ignorant to you this whole time. It’s not that Steve thought you were evil, he just never let himself think about you too much. Never enough to think Hey, this girl I’ve brought with me, she’s good to me. She’s kind. 

He knew you were, obviously. It’s complicated. It’s giving him a headache. 

“Maybe we should stop here.” 

A few days ago he would’ve said No way, are you dumb? You can’t stop here, a clearing doesn’t protect you from the elements, nor a hoard, but he knows you know those things and peacocking his survival skills won’t actually keep you safe. 

He has to stop being in survival mode. Or, in huge jerk mode. 

The feeling of your face pressed to his chest as you slept, each exhale a warmth that settled him. Later, your hand feeling against his forehead, sure he was asleep. You love him. He’s not sure what kind of love, but you do. And he loves you, too, but he’s not sure what kind of love it is either. He estimates that it’s the feeling that comes with surviving a traumatic event (or, in your case, many events) together, caring for each other, tending to each others wounds, mixed with the beginning of a crush. 

Like, he loves you in that he cares very, very deeply for you, and would be wrecked now if something happened to you, but he’s not in love. Not yet. 

He looks out over the clearing. Finally, some clarity.

Steve turns to you and knows he might fall in love with you.  

“I think we should keep going. The tree cover is better, in case it rains again tonight. Maybe the heat’ll break, I don’t know. And I don’t like this, I feel like we could get ambushed from any angle.” He tries not to waver in his explanation. 

“A little rain would be nice,” you say, wiping your eyebrows, “I don’t know about that ambush theory.” 

“Oh, you don’t?” he asks. 

“What are the trees gonna stop?” you ask. 

He recognises an urge to pinch your side and stomps it down. “I don’t know, okay? Leave me alone, my head hurts.” 

“Want some tylenol?” 

He accepts. You walk for another hour or so through the woods until you can see the dark asphalt of a highway. They’re more intimidating, and so you backtrack for fifteen minutes and set up camp beside an incline. It’ll protect you from one angle, at least. 

“You okay?” you ask again. 

Steve lets the canteen he’d been holding fall into his lap. “What can I tell you to make you stop asking me?” he asks genuinely. He doesn’t want you to worry this much about him. 

“We could go back in time and stop you from eating those spaghetti shapes,” you say. 

He likes the way you say it. You look behind you suspiciously, spreading your jacket out and laying the backpack on it before you lie down. You face toward him, your eyes half-lidded. 

You hate the idea of bugs crawling into your hair or ears. Steve bites his lip. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You can lie on me, if you want.” 

“I’m not going to sleep yet, don’t worry.” You curl into yourself. “Let’s make a fire tonight. I know spoiled food is spoiled no matter what, but I think heating that soup’ll give it less chance of upsetting your stomach. It’ll taste nicer, too.” 

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Just a small one, though, when it’s really dark. We’ll stay up.”

“Okay.” You smile, wide and subtly beautiful. 

Is this because you held his hair back while he was sick? Could it be something that minimal? 

You reach across leaf litter to play with his shoelace. After a few minutes, you curl your fingers around the loop. 

You’re starved for touch. He knows how much of a difference it makes at night when he ushers your face into his lap, hand behind your shoulders to hold you. He’s never not given you affection when he thought you needed it, even when he began to suspect you liked him as more than a companion. You’ve never taken advantage of this fact. If you like him, you don’t burden him with it. If anything, your growing crush has made you shier. You're more self conscious. 

He takes your hand. “You already have dirt on your hands,” he says, rubbing your fingers. If you’re hands are dirty, he can’t see it. 

“Your shoe,” you explain. 

He rubs at nothing. Then he holds it just to hold it, feeling the weight of it in his. 

It’s a relief to realise he likes you. He’s confused, but it feels good at the same time. You’re a very easy person to like, even if he’s insisted otherwise before. You can ask questions he finds irrelevant and self explanatory, but for every agitating misunderstanding, you’ve a moment of sweetness. 

You can disagree with him a thousand times, and it doesn’t change how moments like this make him feel. Like he’s found a rare slice of peace. Your arm goes limp, your hand his to do with as he pleases, and he can finally take a breather for the day. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “You’ve been asking me all day, but I didn’t ask you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” 

“How’s your mouth?” he asks. You get toothache from grinding your teeth in your sleep. Some nights, it makes you cry. 

“Fine, really. Doesn’t hurt.”

“How’s your head?” he asks, giving your hand a weak squeeze. 

Your lips twitch, eyes fluttering with something he doesn’t know. “I’m fine, Steve. Great, all things considered. I’m glad you’re not sick anymore.” 

He threads his fingers through yours. “Yeah, me too.” 

[fang-and-feather]

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Rating: G

Category: F/M, M/M, Multi

Relationship: Napoleon Bonaparte/Sebastian/OC

Prompt(s): Break from Multimamory March Day 19, Mundane Tasks from OC x Canon Week Day 2 and Breakfast in Bed from Flufftober Spring Edition Day 8 - @polyamships, @theocxcanonweek, @flufftober

Words: 818

Summary: Napoleon is determined to make sure his partners have the break they deserve, even if he has to force himself out of bed way too early.

Next Chapter / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Napoleon yawned as he practically dragged himself to the kitchen before the sun was even up.

He wasn’t used to being out of bed this early. Or early at all. And just making sure he would wake up in time was tricky. Especially in this stormy weather that was so inviting to just sleep through.

But he was determined to make sure his partners had the break they deserved. Sebastian and Amy worked too much. Their job was taking care of the house and its residents, but even then, he thought they worked way too hard, rarely taking breaks or days off. It had improved a little after the three of them started dating, but sometimes Napoleon still worried and did his best to aid them.

But it was the first time he had forced himself to get up this early to make breakfast to surprise them, not only with breakfast in bed, but with a surprise break. Amy hadn’t been feeling well these days, so Sebastian was working a lot more on his own. Napoleon did his best to help, but it was about time he took it a step further and gave them a proper break.

Napoleon learned to do these tasks out of a sense of duty. He was one of the few people who actually needed to eat in that house, and given his sleep schedule, it was best if he learned to cook for himself instead of giving more work for Sebastian. But now, he liked that he could use these skills to help his partners, and he actually enjoyed such mundane tasks. They gave him a strange sense of peace and normalcy.

Who would have guessed his second life as a vampire would be more normal than his first one as human.

Although no human in this time would consider him having two partners normal.

He was almost finishing making breakfast when Amy walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning.” She greeted, kissing his cheek.

“Good morning. Did you come looking for me?” He teased.

“No. Water. I saw you leave, and I knew you’d be here, though. As surprising as it is to find you up even before us.”

“Did I wake you up?”

Amy shook her head as she drank the water.

“I was feeling too uneasy to sleep.” She added, rubbing a hand over her belly. “But the food smells good, actually. I think I’m fine enough to eat.”

She’d been feeling understandably sick these days, to the point she had difficulty eating sometimes.

“Good thing I made some light food. Even if you feel better, it’s good to go easy, Nunuche.” Napoleon ruffled his girlfriend’s hair, to which she pouted.

“Not too easy, I hope. I’m quite hungry.”

As if to make a point, her stomach growled, making Napoleon laugh and her pout even more.

“Well, go back to bed then, and we’ll feed this little bear of yours. I just hope we have enough food.”

“Do you want help to finish here?”

“I’m almost done. And if you stay, Sebastian will come looking for us, and you know we can barely get him to rest once he’s up, even on his days off.”

He laughed, but Amy looked surprised, then smiled at him.

“It’s hard to get used to the change, isn’t it?” She chuckled.

Napoleon hadn’t even noticed this time, but sometimes, especially when his boyfriend wasn’t around, he fell back to using the name Sebastian. It didn’t help that even Amy did so when other people were around.

“I just need to get used to it.”

“I know. I had the same problem the other way around. I knew Aki since we were children, but when I arrived here, he was using a different name, and I can’t say it was easy for me to keep up with the change at first.”

“And still isn’t. Or he lets you call him Aki?”

“Well, at least neither of us tends to mix up while he’s around.” Amy laughed, then kissed him.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“He would let it go. From you. And only because he’s not used to the fact that you’re his boyfriend. From me, he would make sure I never slip again.”

Napoleon laughed at the way she blushed while saying that, in a tone that sounded afraid of how that would happen. But if it was something she was blushing over, it was also something she wouldn’t mind.

And he was still laughing as he watched her leave before resuming his work.

Amy wouldn’t admit it, but she still had such conflicted feelings about certain aspects of their relationship too. The three of them had much to get used to.

A lazy morning with breakfast in bed was a good step forward. A nice meal with the people you loved always made things easier. Or so Napoleon was determined to find out.

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground, @queengiuliettafirstlady, @2-lines-and-a-circle, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[witchie-writings]

Alright bestie last one I SWEAR THIS TIME. I’m curious, what is Megatron’s human pet’s day to day life like? How do they get their food, water, do they bathe, do they have other clothes or do they just stay in the same ones? Where do they sleep, etc?

Took me a little bit to think about this one, but please, keep sending in more asks if you have any ideas for them! I enjoy writing about Transformers, even if I’m not too terribly active in the fandom at this moment (plus, Bayverse!Megatron deserves more attention, imo). Not proof-read.

When I think about the daily life of Bayverse!Megatron’s human pet, it isn't… awful, merely tolerable. When it comes to their living quarters, they take residency in Megatron's habsuite; perched upon a narrow bar of oxidized steel is their "room", haphazardly cobbled together using the remains of destroyed weaponry or deceased corpses of fallen cybertronian warriors; for comparison's sake, their resting chambers bare resemblance to a bird cage. Bed wise, it's likely whoever designed the prison didn't have a care for whatever stuffing the human!reader laid upon, so it's a combination of all sorts of shredded fabric or discarded wool. It isn't pristine either, it would have a noticeable odor that is quite putrid, but its softness was preferable over the unsanitary jagged edges of the floor. For where their "humble" abode is, the human!reader would reside in Megatron's habsuite. Far enough away to where the warlord has his own space, but close enough to his berth to where he could crush their feeble body should they attempt an escape.

The human!reader's food and water is, thankfully, covered, though I can't speak for the edibility of such nutrition. The food that would be fed to them would likely be whatever Megatron or the other Decepticons would deem "consumable without risk of immediate death", probably food scraps from the store that's about to turn rotten or maybe some other unorthodox stuff… I can't think of much here, so use your imagination. If the human!reader was particularly good, they'll maybe be rewarded with some "treats", think of fresh fruit or possibly even ice cream, but it isn't something they should grow accustomed to. For now, they'll be scraping off the bottom of the barrel. Water is okay, I guess. They'll just get a scrap bucket, fill it with whatever water is nearby, boil it to get rid of the nauseating parasites, then give it to the human. Easy!

This leads into the bathing situation. The human!reader gets a bath through one of two ways: their wounds are pretty severe and need to be cleaned or Megatron wants them to be presentable for their circus act. It's essentially the same way to get the water, as stated in the last bullet point, just the human would be picked up by their frail body and dunked into the bowl without a second thought. Better hope they can swim! Sadly, the human won't get any sense of privacy, as there will always be a Decepticon to monitor them to make sure they don't try to perform an escape attempt or to take their own life via drowning. 

Now, Megatron isn't one for dress up or looking "nice". Being a tyrannical dictator that's locked into a cataclysmic war doesn't allow such novelties, nor does having a barbaric mindset help either. But that doesn't mean he wants his pet to look absolutely appalling during their shows and acts - it takes the fun out of their humiliation. Likely he'll have a more fashionista Decepticon (cough) go out to hunt for a suitable attire for the human!reader's showing; pick a few that have hints of spice yet undeniable lure, bring them back to slap them onto the pet and bam. Perfect for the occasion! I can't say the outfit will come out unscathed however. More than likely it'll be another pile of scrap for the bed pile. Ah well. Besides that event, there is a high chance the human will be stuck in their same clothes, even if they're in dire need of cleaning. Maybe they could convince a Decepticon to go shopping for them… after all, there are a few who pity the poor doll.

And since you asked about the daily life of Megatron's pet… well, I imagine that there are a special few amongst the Decepticon cause that would be open, or at least semi-open, to having a discussion with the human. Megatron isn't always present, obviously, so despite having assigned a "pet sitter" to the human!reader, other Cons might have their curiosity peaked and take the opportunity to interact with the fleshling (much to the guardian's dismay… it's probably Barricade and he's sick of the sudden attention Megatron's pet is accumulating). Some aren't as cruel as others, offering some form of conversation, for their own benefit or out of good faith, who knows. Sometimes conversations could develop into hour-long talks about whatever bubbles within the mind, and it can be quite enjoyable for both the Con and the human - quite possibly a friendship blossoms. Which would always be cut short due to Megatron's arrival. Such a shame.

Being brought into this chaotic hellscape with nothing more than the clothes upon their skin, the human!reader, outside of their entertainment value and talks with a few of the Decepticons, would have to find a way to develop their own entertainment in order to not go insane. Sure, if Megatron was particularly generous one day, he'd throw the human!reader a bone and get them something as "idiotic and pointless" as a card or board game, but usually it's a mangled mess to where it was barely visible as a game anymore, so the human would have to put their noggin to work. Doesn't always want to function, but something is better than going out with a small whisper because of boredom.

[gravedigest]

More DS drabble.

“No offense, Vic, but why are you putting up with it?”

His coworker has a hip leaning against the counter, the lull after lunch rush giving them all a moment to breathe. Victor logs himself out of the register, digging his phone from his back pocket as he slips to the back of the kitchen.

His coworker follows.

“He helps with the chores.”

“He’s not helping with the chores now,” they quirk their head towards the dining room, where Deimos is curled up in a booth. The way he’s zoned out suggests he’s probably working on something, the bored tilt of his head says it’s probably actual work. “Isn’t he freeloading?”

“No. No, he helps.”

“Helps what?”

“Is that actually any of your business?”

“Oh. Ooooh, I see.” That singsong tone of voice.

“No.”

“Still, he’s kind of a wreck, Vic. You could do better.”

“Can you not?”

He’s not in the mood for this.

Everyone trying to pry, dig in at his life. He’s not going to talk about it.

“I’m taking my lunch.”

“Gonna bring food to your boyfr-“

“We’re just roommates. Go fill a bag of ice for me.”

Even with all the heckling, they still do that, at least. Deimos might not be particularly popular as a restaurant appliance, but there’s a general understanding amongst the workers.

They won’t just let him overheat.

So Victor collects his lunch from the back, orders up something for Deimos, and gets the bag of ice.

He’s still blanked out in his booth when Victor gets there, resting on the table, head pillowed in his crossed arms. It makes it easy to get the ice spread over the back of his neck, stirring him just enough that he starts blinking and backing out of his rig.

“Got busy in here for a minute,” Deimos notes, stretching his arms over the table, then grinning up at him. “Lagged out the wifi.”

“Did it mess up whatever you’re doing?”

“Nah, music kept buffering, though. What’d ya get me?”

“Nuggets.”

“You are too sweet to me.”

He can see how hard it is for Deimos to get himself sat up, keeping the weight of his arms on the table, careful not to drop the ice by staying hunched over. Victor pops the box open for him, gets the top ripped off the sauce, the little fine motor things that can be a struggle when he’s lagging out.

And he is lagging out, there’s a slowness to how his eyes are tracking things, a sheen of sweat in his hairline. Little things Victor’s gotten good at noticing.

“Job’s gonna pay okay,” Deimos says it with his teeth halfway through a nugget, only realizing it was too hot halfway through the bite. “‘Lectricity should be good for the month. Or could go for the water, iunno. Your choice.”

“You get the electric, I’ll get water,” He doesn’t know how Deimos can eat the same things for weeks solid like he does, but it simplifies a lot of things.

He’s easy to please.

And he helps.

It’s not that complicated. He’s the easiest job Victor’s ever had.

Except for the parts that are hard.

When Victor checks on him again, nearing the end of his shift, Deimos hasn’t moved.

From across the restaurant, it looked like he was just back to work, face tucked into his arms and his hand around a soda cup.

He should’ve known better, made him take a break from his rig or moved him to the office when the boss had left for the day. Moved him to the walk-in. Had him walk around the dining room for a minute.

He’s crashing.

It takes two more people to help drag Deimos to the walk in, Deimos’ eyes stuck open wide, his limbs locked up in their curled positions, Victor’s shivering in the freezer with him as someone is cussing out corporate for the fact that no one can find a goddamn pen.

Sunglasses.

His sunglasses.

It takes a minute to pull the rubber off of the arm, to expose the narrow metal, but yeah- Yeah. That’s thin enough.

He tilts Deimos’ head down, finding that little pinhole from the diagrams he’d memorized, feeding the tip of the arm into the hole until he can feel the click-

Deimos jerks, immediately slamming his palms into his own eyes and coiling up. “Fuck, ow, shit, fuck- ow-“

“Hey- You’re gonna pop your eyeball-“

His hands drag up his face and into his hair, pressing hard at his skull as he collects himself from the hard cancellation of whatever process he was stuck in. “Shit, shit. What- Where?”

“Freezer?”

“… Overheated?”

… Sometimes, he wishes he could explain some things to Deimos.

He’s a little too deep for that, though.

It’s nicer to him if he just doesn’t know, anyway.

“… Yeah. Shift’s over. Wanna call Sanford?”

“… Yeah.”

[echo-goes-mmm]

Second-Hand Goods #5

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: human trafficking, oral dub/non-con, manipulation

Emmett woke up with a headache. He yawned, but didn’t get very far.

Right, the muzzle.

The first thing he noticed was how hungry he was. Did he even eat last night?

Last night… last night was fuzzy. He must have fallen asleep.

He stretched, but again didn’t get very far. He shivered; he was cold again.

Emmett opened his eyes to see metal bars. He rolled over. 

He was in one of the kennels, and lying on the floor across the room was a ‘guest’, still asleep. Master must have given him medicine. 

“Good morning, my dear.”

Emmett whipped his head around to see Master leaning against the wall. He came over and crouched in front of him.

“Here’s how this is gonna go.” His voice was firm, and Emmett knew there was no room to fuck up.

“In about an hour, our friend over there will wake up.” He nodded towards the man on the floor. 

“I’ll give you the usual routine, and then you’ll take care of our guest. No talking. Got it?”

Emmett nodded. It seemed easy enough. 

Upstairs was in his future, he could feel it. Maybe Master would even let him decorate the spare bedroom.

___________________

Sure enough, after an hour the man was stirring. Emmett watched through the bars as he twitched and shifted. 

Abruptly, the man sat up. His wild eyes fixed in on him. Emmett shrank away, even though the bars protected him. 

“Where the fuck am I?” he said, his voice shaking. “Who are you?”

Emmett shook his head. Even if was allowed to speak, he didn’t know where Master lived. Not even the state.

The man tried to get up, but he was tethered to the floor with a handcuff around one of his wrists.

“Oh my god,” he sniffed, “I’m going to die here.” 

Emmett couldn’t speak, but he could at least answer that. He rapped on the bars with a fist. The man looked up. Emmett shook his head.

“I… I’m not?”

Emmett nodded. The man sagged in relief. 

“Thanks.”

He heard the door at the top of the stairs open. He turned towards the door. It was a pretty roomy cage, all things considered, but he wasn’t exactly happy staying in it.

Master’s keys rattled as he opened the big gate. He slammed it behind him, locking it again. Was he angry, or just putting on a show? 

“Please let me go,” begged the man, “I’ll do whatever you want!” 

Master ignored him, opening Emmett’s kennel. “Come, Emmett. Kneel.”

He crawled out of the cage.

Master unfastened the muzzle, and let him stretch out his jaw before taking his temperature.

Breakfast was once again an apple, granola bar, and a bottle of water. Emmett thought of the pancakes as he ate. He was so close, he could nearly taste them. Maybe he’d be allowed to make french toast once this was over.

Master slipped on his muzzle when he was finished. 

“Be. Good,” he muttered into his ear. 

Master wiped off the thermometer and handed it and the bag of food to him. Emmett stood, walking over to the man.

He showed the man the thermometer, and he accepted it easily. It beeped, and his temperature was normal. 

Emmett handed out the food, and turned to see if Master was pleased.

But Master wasn’t watching, typing furiously on his phone. It rang, and he cursed. 

Master stalked towards him, grabbing his arm and dragging him back to the kennel. He shoved Emmett in, and the doorbell sounded upstairs.

“Not a word,” he hissed, “Either of you.” He shot a glare towards the newcomer, who nodded.

Master ran upstairs, two at a time.

After a moment of distant talking, he heard two sets of footsteps on the stairs.

“So what have you got for me?” said a new voice, a man.

“I only have the one,” said Master, irritated. “Just got it in this morning.”

They came into view, and Emmett immediately hated the man. His smile made his teeth chatter.

“Just one? You told me to come today.”

“I said call next week, idiot.” Master rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you got my address. It’s unprofessional, Jake.”

Jake examined the new guest, his eyes roaming over him. The man whimpered. 

“I don’t like it,” whined Jake.

Master shrugged, checking his phone. “Take him or wait a week. I have a pick up scheduled that you’ll love.”

“What about the one in the cage?” Emmett’s blood ran cold.

“Not for sale.”

“Five thousand.”

“No.”

“Seven thousand.”

“No.”

“Ten thousand.” Master looked up from his phone. He looked at Emmett, like he was considering it. 

“Don’t!” he blurted. “Please don’t, Master, I-”

“Shut the fuck up!” snarled Master, his face suddenly twisting. 

Oh god, he had disobeyed. He curled into the corner of his kennel. It was game over, he was going to be punished or killed.

“Like I said,” Master turned to Jake, “he’s not for sale. Now forget my address before you cause even more problems.”

“Jesus, fine! You’re a pain in the ass, Ander.” Jake threw up his hands. 

Master escorted him upstairs, and Emmett began to tremble. He pulled the blanket around him, as if that would save him from Master’s wrath.

Ander. His name was Ander. Useless information. It wasn’t like he could ever tell anyone.

He locked eyes with the man across the room, and he looked almost as terrified as Emmett felt. 

___________________

Master had been gone for several minutes, and with each passing second the lead ball of dread in his gut got heavier.

What if Master left him in the cage forever? If he just let him starve? Threw away the key and let him rot?

Or worse? Sell him off to suffer and die?

He shivered under the blanket. 

Please don’t make me go back. Please.

He heard Master’s footfalls on the steps. They were quiet, and that was somehow scarier than if he stomped.

Master didn’t even look at him when he got downstairs. Instead, he went to the supply locker. He pulled out a foldable step stool and a long length of chain.

Emmett burrowed further into the covers. His heart was beating rabbit-fast.

Master got on the stool, looping the chain over a hook and pulley embedded in the steel beams of the ceiling. He grabbed a pair of shackles from the locker, securing them to the end of the chain. 

He was in deep shit.

Finally, Master turned to him. His face was stern and cold, and Emmett wished he could turn back time and just keep his mouth shut. 

Master unlocked the kennel, and Emmett resolved not to resist. If he was good, really good, maybe it would all go away.

Master hauled him out by the arm. His grip was bruisingly tight. He locked the cuffs around his wrists, weighing them down with cold steel.

Master started to pull the chain, forcing his arms up and up and up, until he was nearly on the tip of his toes. A deep ache settled into his shoulders.

Master took off the muzzle. He tossed it aside, and the sound of the metal on the concrete was shockingly loud compared to the held breath of silence earlier. 

He was shorter than Master, and he felt every single inch of difference. 

“I’m sor-” His head was suddenly in the other direction, his face stinging. Master gripped him by the chin, yanking him back.

“What the fuck was that?” Master hissed. “Are you stupid?” Emmett shook his head.

“N-”

“Shut up.” Master stepped away, rummaging through the supply locker. 

“When I tell you something, I expect you to follow it.” His voice was cold, nothing like the sweetness he used yesterday morning. The anger in it was gone too, and the calm frightened him.

Master found what he was looking for, and Emmett had to bite his lip to keep silent when he saw it. 

Seeing the crop in his hand, long and imposing, he hoped that Master wouldn't punish him for screaming. It would be a losing game.

“I’ve been really kind, Emmett. Haven’t I? Don’t speak.”

Emmett nodded. His shoulders protested. 

“I could make a lot of money off of you,” he said, circling around to his back. “I still have texts from Jake, telling me to call if I ever change my mind.”

Emmett squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the blow. But instead a cool metal slipped under his shirt. The dull side of a blade ran up his spine, the fabric tearing.

“Thousands of dollars. An amount that could change some people’s lives. Do you understand that?”

He nodded. He knew, better than a lot of people. Ten thousand dollars would have changed his life. 

The shirt fell away. Master’s hand ran up his back. Goosebumps broke out under his touch.

To his horror, Master reached around and undid the button of his pants, pulled the zipper, and tugged his pants clear off of him. He saw them get tossed to the side from the corner of his eye.

He didn’t get to keep his boxers either. 

The first strike made him yelp, the fiery mark burning into the small of his back.

“I’m disappointed, my dear.”

The second was just as bad. And the third. And the fourth.

“I asked you for one simple thing.” The fifth lash crossed over another, and he shrieked.

“And you couldn’t do it. But I’m giving you a second chance.” Master came back around. “I don’t think you really deserve one, but I’m feeling generous. Don’t you think that’s generous? Speak.”

“Yes! So generous! Thank you, Master,” he sobbed, “thank you, thank-”

“Enough. Start counting.”

___________________

“Five!” he cried. His head swam, his vision sparking at six, seven, eight-

How many would there be?

___________________

Emmett sobbed, his back raw and burning. His ears rang with his own screams- another blow-

“Tw- twenty!”

___________________

“Please…” he begged, “no- no more. Please.” His knees shook, and each shifting stumble yanked more on his screaming shoulders. But it was nothing compared to everything else. 

He could feel the beads of blood forming from the back of his thighs, up his ass, to the top of his shoulder blades. That, and the searing pain, was the only warmth he had.

Master hummed. The tip of the crop grazed over his welts, and he didn’t have the energy to flinch away. He panted through the feeling. It was like sandpaper over his raw skin.

“Have you learned a lesson?”

“Y- yes, Master.”

“I suppose we could put this away.” He tapped the crop on his ass, and that time he jumped. Master chuckled.

The locker slammed shut. He heard the sound of plastic, and something cool touched his back. He whimpered.

“Hush.”

It took a minute before he realized it was some sort of cream, and the relief was the most intense joy he’d ever experienced.

He bit his lip to keep quiet as Master spread the cream over each mark. 

It could be so much worse. Master really was lenient. He only hurt him once he’d messed up, and rightfully so. How hard was it to keep his mouth shut?

He should have known Master wasn’t going to sell him off when Jake had offered.

Master decided he was worth more than money, and had given him a second chance. 

It wouldn’t go to waste.

“You know,” murmured Master into his ear. “I only punished you to be sure you understand my requirements. You still have to make it up to me, Emmett.”

He nodded. That made sense, what was the point of rules with no consequences? He’d been warned after all. And he had upset Master so much…

Master lowered him down slowly. His muscles screamed from the effort, and he shook from exhaustion. 

Master uncapped a bottle of water and pressed it to his lips. Emmett drank greedily, the cool water a balm to his sore throat. Once it was gone, Master tossed it in the trash can at the end of the basement. 

Even when he was angry, he was kind enough to take care of him.

Emmett didn’t move, waiting on his knees for Master’s next instructions. 

Master stood in front of him, and Emmett could barely look him in the eye. But Master had that smile on him again, and that was good.

Master cupped the back of his head, bringing him straight to his crotch, and Emmett knew what was expected.

“Go on,” said Master, “Make it up to me.”

He kissed the front of Master’s trousers as thanks. Hands shaking, he undid the button, and slowly pulled the zipper. He mouthed at the bulge in Master’s underwear, and Master sighed, pleased.

He carefully took out Master’s cock, stroking it the best he knew how. He’d never given a blowjob before, but he knew what he personally liked. 

He licked up the underside of Master’s dick, and Master’s fingers began to stroke his hair. 

He took the tip into his mouth, and tried to think about what would feel good. He took in more and more of Master’s cock, doing his best to breathe.

He had only Master’s breathy moans to rely on, but it seemed to be working. Master hit the back of his throat, and his eyes began to water. He bobbed his head, and Master began to thrust. He cursed and gripped his hair, and Emmett did his best not to gag.

“Fuck, Emmett,” he groaned. He was close, he could see it in Master’s face. And sure enough, moments later his mouth was full of cum. He tried to swallow it all, but he choked as Master pulled out, coughing onto the floor.

“There’s a good boy,” said Master. He wiped off the lingering cum from Emmett’s chin, pushing it back into his mouth. It was bitter on his tongue, but he licked it clean. He was a good boy, and that was what mattered.

Master tucked himself back into his pants. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Right, then. Back in the kennel, my dear.”

His face fell. After all that, after everything, he was supposed to go back in there?

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. I still can’t trust you, now can I?” He couldn’t afford to hesitate; he crawled back inside the kennel. Master was right, but it still stung. 

But as he curled up inside, head on pillow (he couldn’t stand the idea of a blanket on his torn-up back), he only felt relief. The kennel was safe; he wouldn’t be hurt here. The bars were a barrier between him and the world. Even more than Master’s house.

The guest was staring at him with red rimmed eyes, tear tracks down his face. What was he crying about? 

Emmett rolled over to face the wall.

He was hungry again, and still cold.

taglist: @writereleaserepeat @paintedpigeon1

[smallestapplin]

I don't know if you've seen shape of water but long story short

woman works at some water lab thingy and fucks fish man

You are as biologist who got paired with two eel like mermen,

They watch you come and go and they are in love with you

you're the Perfect Mate for them.

Please I just rewatched the movie and I'm so hungry for fish people🥵😫

YESSS!!

🔞18+Only!🔞

🔞CW : afab reader, monster fucking, DP🔞

-

-

-

You work to ensure that wild life and the hybrids in it are safe, as well as study them and their behaviors.

So when two eel mermen were brought in, they were taken to your division, to be placed in your care.

The poor things were injured, and looked exhausted, yet they kept fighting every step of them way.

Their short silver hair flowing around them beautifully in the water. They swam around their temporary tanks, instantly hiding when they first got in.

You were in awe of them, the two are simply gorgeous.

And they seemed curious about what you were doing.

Over the next few months, they grew more confident, more at easy. Everytime you’d walk by their tank, they would follow you, waving at you.

Or if you were up top, giving them food, they would offer you some.

You were the only person they liked.

Many of your assistants left the tank clawed up and bloodied, as a result, the twin mermen became your problem.

They seem fond of you, so you don’t think it’s an issue.

You find yourself quite fond of them as well.

They can speak but don’t speak often. Only enough to give you their names, and when you repeated their names, or call for them, they get so excited.

Even giving you one of their scales.

The moment you accepted it, they swam and jumped out of the water, so happy!

It wasn’t until they pulled you into the water did you realize.

“Sweet mate!”

“Our mate.”

You were sandwiched between them, Emmet in front of you, and Ingo behind you. You should scold them, tell them you can’t be their mate.

But you love them.

Emmet hums and wiggles as you kiss him. You tremble, feeling Ingo’s lips on your neck, and how sharp teeth gently nipping at your skin.

You yelp, feeling your outfit being ripped off your body, leaving you completely naked in the water.

Your mates however love it.

Seeing your nipples perk at the cooler temperature. Emmet quickly lowers his head, licking and tugging at them, his hand moving from your waist to your other tits, groping it and pinching the bud.

You squeak, eyes widening when you feel somethings against your legs. Peering down just below the water, seeing both of their cocks on either side of you, rubbing against your thighs.

You wince and mewl as Ingo buries his teeth into your neck, marking you as his.

Moving your hands down by your sides, you gentle grasp their cocks. The two hiss, bucking their hips, desperate for more friction.

Ingo licks and kisses the wound he gave you, almost purring as you shudder.

“Our mate is so sweet.”

Emmet hums, moving up the other side of your neck and biting down.

You cry out at the harsh bite, but quickly moan as he pulls back, his cock leaving your hand and thrusting between your thighs.

“Warm! Verrry warm!”

His slick cock grinding against your cunt leaves you whining, it’s so good but not enough!

“Ah-!” You yell as your thighs are grabbed.

You let go of Ingo’s length, and place your hands on Emmet’s shoulder to balance yourself. Your legs are spread and lifted, while the two press further against you.

Exposing your pussy to them.

You lean your head back against Ingo’s shoulder, their cocks prodding against your hole.

“Take it easy, I’m not going anywhere.”

You spoke breathlessly. Feeling their tips pushing into you, they both pull back, pouting.

“Maaaate!”

Emmet whines before moaning whorishly, slamming his cock inside you. You squeal, tears pricking your eyes as your pussy is filled with his cock.

“Sooo good!”

Ingo growls at his brother’s words.

“Too rough with mate!”

The stoic merman hissed, not at all happy you’re tearing up.

But the burn of the stretch hurts so good!

Ingo lines up his cock at your already stuffed hole, gently pushing the tip in. You let out a drawn-out moan, you feel like you’re going to split in half!

Ingo whimpers, needing to thrust his length in bit by bit. You just feel so good! He’ll blow his load if he’s not careful.

Your pussy throbs once he bottoms out, you’re so full! Their cocks are so deep inside you, you can’t wait to be filled with their cum.

You involuntarily clench and it sends them into a frenzy.

You shriek, drool dripping from your open mouth and onto your chest, as they pound into you with ravenous hunger.

They’re claws digging into the fat of your thighs and waist, as their slam their cocks into you.

Emmet’s tongue hangs from his mouth, whining at your wet heat.

“Perfect mate! Perfect pussy!”

“Ours! Our mate! Taking us so well.”

They babble their praises, which you can barely process.

You’re so close! They just keep pounding your cunt! You swear you can feel them fucking your womb.

“Haaa! Fuckfuckfuck, please! I’m cumming! Cummiiing!”

You squeal, creaming on their cocks, but they don’t slow down.

Ingo practically screams as your pussy squeezes him so tightly.

“Filling mate!”

“Ours! Ours! Take it!”

Ingo slows his thrusts, instead his thrusts turn harsh, before you cry at the warmth flooding your insides. Ingo’s cry overshadowing your own.

Emmet’s thrusts speed up, burying his teeth into his mating mark. Pumping load after load into your pussy, making sure to fuck it into you.

They slowly stop, making sure you’ve ridden out your high.

They nuzzle either side of your neck, lavishing you with kisses.

You whimper, their cocks are still inside you, keeping you full.

Despite their affection you can only think, how the hell are you going to sneak back to your room? And avoid your coworkers until you’re cleaned?

[redheadspark]

Could you do number 1 and 2 with Jack Russell from Werewolf By Night? 🥹🐺✨

A/N - This is great! I loved writing this for Jack, thanks for requesting this!

Give Them Hell

Summary - You shook up Jack's chaotic life

Warnings - Mostly fluff!

“Amor, I’m about to head out!”

“Make sure you have everything in your bag before you go!”

Jack snorted from the tone you were using with him: Authoritative and yet nurturing.  He was grabbing one more jacket from the closer before waltzing back over to the bed in your shared room, seeing his spare clothes folded and on the side of the duffle bag that was already open and ready for him to look in.  He knew it was your handy work, seeing some of his toiletries packed away in small bags and his placing cubes that were already filled with other clothes he would need.  He paused and smiled, considering himself a lucky werewolf to have someone like you in his life to help him organize his own chaotic mess of a life.

Jack was not an organized person, he never was really and it never really was an issue.  Being a werewolf and monster hunter at the same time didn’t call for normalcy and an easy-flowing life.  In fact, it was more clustered at times and more of a mess, but Jack could live with it.  He had to, and thankfully he survived and was able to be assertive and in survival mode for as long as he could.

But that changed when you came along and literally shook up his world.

You both met on the job, being a fellow monster hunter with a decent reputation and a cocky attitude about what needed to be done and what needed to be eliminated.  You were a practical hunter, no-nonsense, and had things for a reason.  No wonder you two gravitated to each other so well since opposites attracted one another.  Even your best girlfriend saw it when you were describing Jack to her after meeting him for the first time.  You were ranting about his clustered organization and his naiveness, but you also admired his easygoing attitude and his positive view of life.  Your friend eyed you, a smirk on her lips.

“You’re gonna fall for that boy,” She warned you.  And you did

Now, a few years later and married, you shook his life up to the core.  He loved that you looked after him and adored him, so much so that you were getting him into better habits.  From the food he ate down to what he was using for his bedsheets, Jack could tell you wanted what was best for him.  You joked that he was utter chaos, but handsome utter chaos in the end.  Jack didn’t care, he still saw it as the sun and the stars rolled into one for loving someone as untidy and messy as he was.  You never saw any of that, you saw a good and tender heart in an unforgiving world of monsters. 

The main thing you helped improve with Jack was his transformations and how to prepare for them.  Before you came along, Jack would wing it.  Maybe take one change of clothes for the morning after and a towel or two in case it was a bit messy (something he learned the hard way in the past).  So when he told you what he did, you looked at him in utter shock.

“No, absolutely not!  This will not happen, come on!” You huffed, lacing your fingers together and dragging him with you out of his apartment.

“Where are we going?” He asked in shock, seeing that fierce look in your eye as you looked back at him.

“We’re going to get your shit together, literally!”

You got him a duffle bag big enough for a set of clothes, travel-sized toiletries and drug store medicine, dry food and electrolyte powder for water, a new water bottle with a built-in filter, running shoes, and coffee packets to brew his coffee in the morning along with a coffee travel mug.  Jack was amazed at your shopping and handiwork as you assembled his bag in front of him, or organizing tricks kicking in and making things fit where they shouldn’t.  When you were done, the bag was filled to the brim with all he needed and more beyond that.  He felt his heart well, knowing fully well that you weren’t just doing this because you wanted to, but you were looking out for him and showing him you loved him.

So Jack did the one thing he could think to do: he swept you up in his arms and kissed you deeply. 

Since then, you both would either work together on a job, or at least know what the other’s job was in case things went south.  You were building not just a relationship with one another but a partnership too, which Jack knew he needed all this time too.  Not that he didn’t mind working alone, he was used to that for years.  But it was safer for him to have another ally on his side or someone who would help him if he needed it.  You were just as independent, but you figured out quick that Jack had a protective side that would come out when you were in danger.  It was rare, but he wouldn’t play with your life since you were too important to him now.  

You both were a match made in heaven, domestic monster hunters if you will.

Jack folded his bag and tucked it inside the bag, then nothing a small parcel that was against the side of the bag and he cocked his head at the sight.  It was routine now that he knew what to pack or not to pack, a great habit you taught him and he picked up right away. So for him to now see a parcel with your name on the top on a folded piece of paper, he was now intrigued.  It was your handwriting, and while you were cleaning the kitchen from your thread breakfast together, Jack took out the parcel from the bag gently and then opened the folded paper to see your writing inside.  

“Jack-

I love you to the moon and back, and even beyond.  Be safe and come back to me in one piece.  Enjoy the treats, and make this world a better place.  It already is with you.

~Your love”

Jack’s eyes misted from the note, seeing the cursive in your writing and feeling the love seep out from the ink into his heart.  He poked his head into the parcel, a massive smile on his face at the sight of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.  

Jack knew he had been dealt with unlucky cards all his life, and he was sat peace with it since he knew life was not fair for those who would work the hardest.  But you were the one piece of his life that changed everything: you brought him light from the darkness, you brought peace from the chaos, and most importantly you brought him love when he didn’t feel it for himself.  

Jack walked out of the bedroom and saw you placing the last dish on the drying rack.  He immediately stood behind you and wrapped you in his arms, peppering your neck with kisses and small love bites as you giggled and leaned into him.

“I take it you found my note,” You teased, though Jack grinned against your skin.

“I’m one lucky wolf to call you mine, Amor,” He hummed, squeezing you a bit tighter, “I love you, so so much.”

You turned in his arms and cupped his cheeks in your palms,  You saw the love in his bright eyes as you pressed your forehead against his and smiled.  He taught you how to be soft and kind to yourself, showing you to let your guard down and be more vulnerable when needed. 

“I love you more,” You hummed to him, kissing him on the nose as you gave him a stern look, “Take care of those monsters and come back in one piece to me,”

“Always,” He vowed as you smirked.

“Give them hell,” You added, seeing his smirk right back at you.

And he did, knowing the love of his life would wait for him to return.

The End.