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bamgyw · 4 months

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˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ c.bg; six nights ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

summary: six nights of emo boy gyu sneaking into your room without your daddy knowing. aberrational catholic guilt ridden catcher in the rye wannabe porn document. afab reader x softdom!beomgyu. warnings: everything, unfortunately. minors dni. heavy smut ahead. lots of pretentious writing, too. catholic guilt and imagery. abusive behaviour, parental neglect. drug use. violence. everyone is sad. i’ll keep on updating part-specific tags. index: prologue: the house of god, first night, second night, third night, fourth night, fifth night, sixth night, dawn of the seventh.

prologue: the house of god

when daddy wanted to hide something from you, he would turn to his beloved bible. and ever since you turned fourteen, he had been holding on to a passage that he would repeat to you every night before going to sleep:

"let no one say when tempted, "i am being tempted by god," for god tempts no one. but each person is tempted when lured by his own desire. then desire gives birth to sin, and sin brings forth death."

that is the only sex talk your daddy ever gave you. it was more of a sex mantra than a talk, or a warning, or even a prohibition. just a rule of nature that he wanted you to have engraved in your mind: desire is sin, and sin is death.

when daddy didn't want you to do something, he'd blame the rule on god. and there's little you could say against that.

as you grew up, you realised that god might not be real, but daddy most certainly was. a punitive, disciplinary god. and one feels much more compelled to obey divine rule when god lives under your roof. when you can touch him, and he can touch you.

when god lives in your house and his wrath can tear your flesh apart not in hell, not in heaven, but in this life; you become more cautious than the most devoted of christians. so even when everyone in your grade started drinking, dating, having sex; you had it very clear that the priority was to protect yourself. not from the dangers of drinking, dating, or sex; but from daddy, that is to say, from god.

none of your friends from school understood it, that the fear of god was not irrational. you had scars and bruises that god had given you which you could perfectly show them. but then daddy would get in trouble. besides, he wouldn't like you showing your body around.

none of them could ever understand what living with god was like, so they were the kind of people who would ask that stupid question; if god loves us, why does he hurt us?

the first person to understand god was a boy called choi soobin.

daddy had remarried choi soobin’s mom the year before you started college. she was a beautiful woman, lively and hopeful to start a second life after becoming a widow. it must be thrilling to get a chance at a second life when your first one has gone wrong. soobin’s mom could have been very happy in another universe. you felt sorry that she had stepped into daddy‘s trap.

you had always wondered how daddy had managed to get a woman like her. bright, cultured and affectionate. but then you figured that maybe, as he was god, he didn't necessarily need to be yahweh, or elohim. he could also be zeus and disguise himself as a swan to kidnap and rape leda.

you found out later that soobin‘s mom had never fully recovered from the passing of her first husband, and she often suffered from major depressive episodes. daddy saw that void in her, and her urgency to fill it. he forced himself into the hollowness of the void, and obstructed her veins, bones, and heart with the word of god.

soon enough, soobin’s mom had no limb or internal organ she controlled herself. she had once had colours, you remembered; rosy cheeks, a hazel head of hair, lips tinted with vibrant red. but daddy had turned her grey.

soobin’s mom had been kind enough to see the good sides of daddy, you had liked her for that. but you regretted that she hadn't learned to hide her colors so that daddy couldn't steal them away, like you did.

she became a shadow of herself, an almost non-verbal phantom trapped between the real world –that is, the confines of daddy's house– and the world of hopeful prayers and the salvation of soul.

the boy called choi soobin would never forgive daddy for that. but it was alright. you understood. in a sense, he had killed his mom. you had to love daddy because he had created you, but you didn't think choi soobin was obliged to.

people said choi soobin had changed, too. that he used to be a gentle kid, polite and sweet, but he had turned hostile. that, like most teens, he had become self-absorbed and belligerent without a cause or that he had gotten those adolescent mood changes so late in his life because he was an attention seeker. people say things like that when they don't understand what living with god is like.

you were the only one who didn't believe daddy when he said that soobin had a demon inside. you knew better than that, you knew that daddy saw demons everywhere. but soobin’s own mom believed it. when daddy tried to exorcise the demon away from soobin with fist and blood, she looked away.

all that soobin had wanted by acting up against daddy was to save his mom. to bring her back from the dead. but after that betrayal, he stopped trying.

soobin had never been violent towards you, though. not once. not even mean. you were the only one who understood him, the only one who told him he wasn't evil. you knew that god's tyrannical rule could break a person, fill them with hate. and so soobin and you became close, often talking against god. every whispered defamation, every blasphemy, the danger of it felt so exciting. not because of the mischievous sin, or because of the disobedience, but because you felt like you could speak your mind at last.

your first kiss was soobin. you felt loved when it happened, something you realised you weren't used to. the feeling bloomed throughout the following week as you hid from god's watchful eye to be together.

soobin told you a hundred times that you were the most beautiful girl in the world, kissing all over your face, clasping you as close to him as he humanly could. he would sneak his hand under your skirt and whisper, "don't think about him right now. it's just you and me." and though his touch never went very far in the magnitude scale of sin and punishment, it was enough to breathe a new life into you.

you sensed that a big part of why soobin wanted you so bad was because he got turned on at the idea of defying daddy, and groping his holy daughter was the greatest offence he could commit. but that was alright. you felt the same way. and you hoped that that hate-induced lust would turn into love, in time. you could then be happier, even in the house of god.

or you could have been happier. because god is omnipresent. and he would soon act to see you separated. the blossoming flower was brutally ripped from the soil.

when daddy found out, he locked himself into the master bedroom with soobin one morning and didn't let him go until the sun began to hide. soobin left that room broken and dead in life, just like his mom, but he didn't have one single bruise. maybe daddy really was god, after all.

soobin never talked to you again. spoken, yes, but it was hollow. you never felt loved again. you learned a lesson that day: your pleasure brings pain to everyone around. the mantra became true. desire is sin, and sin is death.

so if there was any need left in your body to touch, to kiss, to lick, to possess or be possessed; you confined it to the darkest pit of your ribcage, way past your heart, never to be accessed again.

until choi beomgyu came around.

he was the second person to understand god. but he had brought his lesson learned from home. he knew god’s ways even before he met daddy. he had a god of his own. you called yours daddy, he called his ‘that narcissistic sadist’. but strangely enough, you felt like they meant the same thing.

choi beomgyu was sort of soobin's friend, if you could even call it that. they never labeled each other as such, never sought out each other's company for the sake of friendship. they just wanted to live through their loneliness while sitting in the same room.

beomgyu’s dad was a dealer. he made a living out of ruining people's lives, as beomgyu saw it. growing up, he had promised himself that he would never be like that, the kind of person who doesn't care about poisoning someone's body if that meant keeping the cash flowing. but as he grew up, he learned that it wasn't all black or white. that all of those fools kept showing at his father’s doorstep, like they had no other choice. like they enjoyed hurting themselves.

beomgyu, like soobin, had become hateful. one of the things that bothered him the most was the "why me?" question. how unlucky he could have been to be born of such a father. but then again, he could run away. he could sort his shit out, get a job, never see his father again. but he kept going back. like he had no choice. like he, too, enjoyed hurting himself.

his dad barely knew he existed, and if beomgyu ever tried to make himself heard, he would silence him in cold blood. so any semblance of love or validation beomgyu could aspire to, he sought out with mathematically strategised plans. he craved the drug of attention and knew exactly where to get it.

he'd linger around fancy schools and church events, scoping out a certain type of girl. there was always a few of them going through a rebellious phase, desperate to go out with a bad boy and piss off their high-official dad.

it didn't take much effort for him to get what he wanted. he was handsome enough to make it easy, and even though he was a spiteful nihilist, he could be charming on command. just a smirk, a tousle of the hair, and some cheesy lines like, "i'm messed up, but with you, i feel like maybe i could be better," or "you're too beautiful for a screw-up like me." and he would have them wrapped around his finger.

he would bring them over to his place and fuck them rough on his drug-money-bought mattress. if there was shouting, or a gunshot coming from another part of the house, he'd fuck into them harder, muffling their fear with a rough kiss, using their panic to fuel his own twisted thrill. you fucking scared? i've gone through this crap every day since i was a kid.

if he could crack the shell of a privileged princess, dragging someone along with him down to his mud, his pain would slightly numb out.

for just a little, but never enough.

that pattern of behavior didn't lead to happiness. not even to satisfaction. it was a vindictive way of muffling his pain with the aching moans of someone who had it easier. but in reality, it only pierced what was left of his soul, making him even more hollow. it was soobin who made him realize that.

until that day, beomgyu saw soobin as almost a kid—pitifully weak and too sheltered. but when he told him about his exploits of going after posh girls, soobin didn't applaud in shared bitterness as he often did.

beomgyu explained to him how hard he got seeing the fear in their eyes as they realised that the life he led, that freedom of the rebel, wasn't as cute and bohemian as they had romanticised.

soobin responded curtly. "and then what? you cum, the spell wears off and you stare at the ceiling in silence, thinking of how miserable you are." he said. "and then you feel guilty for being a piece of shit and using that girl as a blow-up doll. and because of that you feel even worse about yourself, which means becoming more hateful and ruining more people. its not a you thing, you're not that special. that loop has been said and done. probably how your dad feels after beating on you."

beomgyu was taken aback. he didn’t even find it in himself to get offended. he remained pensive for a while before saying, "hyung. do you think i'm a bad person?"

soobin replied; "i think you can choose not to be."

and beomgyu took the advice. he put an end to the hunter-gathering of rich girls. he respected soobin from then on, too. soobin had therefore been a good influence, one could say. or at least an influence beomgyu was willing to accept. he started hanging around your house more, to the point of almost never leaving.

you learned about him as if he were a mythological figure—someone everyone talked about but whose existence you couldn't confirm. as a friend of soobin, beomgyu was bound from the start by an unspoken rule to maintain the least possible contact with you.

beomgyu was made aware of that rule very early on. what he didn't know, because he had been misled, was your age. that's why he didn't think much of it at first; he thought you were a kid. so, whatever—he couldn't talk to soobin’s annoying little stepsister. big deal. he didn't care about kids anyway.

this, combined with the prison-like structure of daily life in that house—minimal time in common areas and endless hours rotting in your own cell—fulfilled daddy's command to keep your life and soobin's, and therefore boemgyu’s, completely separate.

but even though you hadn't seen choi beomgyu in person, you had been able to construct a fairly accurate forensic portrait of him, pieced together from your father's warnings about people like him.

about the piercings, daddy believed that the body is holy, and anyone capable of mutilating within sin. about the music they played when locked up for whole afternoons in soobin’s room, he believed that god is serene, and disturbing that peace is a sign of the devil. he considered long hair on a man an abomination, and much like the eccentric clothes, a mark of a sodomite.

daddy didn't approve of him, and saw him as no more than a threat to the sanctity of his home. but beomgyu was quick to remedy the situation.

beomgyu was most acquainted to the ways of gods. he knew they were capricious, proud and pathologically narcissistic. so he made sure daddy could see he was a troubled young man and played the role of the lamb seeking guidance. he convinced daddy that he could abduct him, like he had done with soobin and his mother.

when soobin recounted the scene to you, his voice had sounded more hopeful, more full of admiration than you had ever heard. "he went to your dad and talked to him as if he was the buddha. said that he was lost and needed someone to guide him on the right path." soobin said. "he had some quotes from the prodigal son parabole learned, and he just delivered so naturally. not a trace of shame because when he lied to his face like that. it was like watching a play. your dad bought everything."

from then on, beomgyu became an unsung hero in your eyes. the boy who had outmanipulated daddy into having it his way. the boy who had defeated god.

around halloween that year, beomgyu and his dad had a terminal fight. it ended on a threat so destructive that beomgyu thought it was for the better if he stayed away from his father's place for a couple days. maybe a week. soobin, knower of the impotence and humiliation of having to sleep under the roof of the one who lacerated you and torn you to pieces, offered him shelter.

daddy's eyes lit up with greed. he saw the definitive chance to welcome a prodigal son into the fold. for beomgyu it was almost a joke. he was amused at how fast daddy allowed him in. so clueless and hasty, like one of the girls he used to charm into his bed.

in truth, beomgyu wasn't even to blame when he inevitably bumped into you. it had been daddy's mistake, he had let him in himself. you thought maybe that made daddy more human, somehow. that he forgot to close the back door to the prison and the devil strolled in.

but it wasn't really a matter of having let his guard down. daddy was still as stern, still as disciplinary, still as paranoid as he had always been. choi beomgyu was just much smarter than daddy.

he was a demigod, he was a promise. he was soon to make you his.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ please let me know if you think reading about booty sex is gross (i'm doing market research)

#i know nothing happened #consider this a teaser #incoming depression sex yay !!#beomgyu #beomgyu angst #txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #beomgyu fic

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agi-ppangx · 5 months

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prayer (lee minho x gn!reader)

ᝰ brief mentions of nudity, making out, suggestive but nothing explicit happens !

ᝰ an: i experimented with this one so im not really confident bc im not really proud of it BUT i like the idea itself, so im posting it regardless of what my stupid brain thinks....... anyway, i hope you'll enjoy and remember - feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“stop squirming!” you scolded minho as you came back to the bed and situated yourself in his lap. he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, a subconscious reflex he gained over the years while being with you.

“but i don’t want to,” he whined dramatically, throwing his head back. you smirked, ignoring his words and took a colourful makeup palette in your hand. his face was already covered with foundation, the shade perfectly matching his honey toned skin. he looked ethereal in the dim light of the bedside lamp.

“close your eyes,” you commanded, taking a fluffy brush in your other hand.

“what are you putting on my eyes?”

“it’s a secret.” minho scoffed at your words, earning a light smack on his bare arm and he obeyed with a huff. you gently put the shades on his eyelids, blending them together to make it look nice and even. in the meantime, minho’s hands snuck under his t-shirt you were wearing, squeezing and caressing the flesh on your back and hips. a shiver went down your spine, making it harder to focus, but you tried your hardest to evenly put the glitter in the corner of his eyes. he smiled softly as his fingertips were discovering your body for the millionth time, his touch feather-like on your burning skin.

suddenly the air in your bedroom thickened and you felt too hot, your cheeks tinted cherry. it didn’t go unnoticed by minho - he also felt the energy shift. your hands got a bit shaky, the brush now gliding unevenly over his eyelids.

“open your eyes for me,” you whispered, trying not to show what effect his touch had on you – not that minho wasn't already aware. as you examined your work on his face, his hands made their way to your waist, squeezing the flesh and you jumped at the sudden feeling.

“minho!” you squeaked, dropping the brush on the sheets. “i swear i’m gonna kill you,” you added with a pout and he giggled, caressing your sides with a smirk. you shook your head, closing the palette and putting it on the sheets. you put your index finger under minho’s chin, making him look up ever so slightly and the glitter on his skin sparkled in the yellow glow from the lamp. you examined your work, brushing the remnants of glitter off his cheeks with the tip of your finger. your touch was soft, almost non-existent, yet minho still leaned to it, wordlessly begging you not to break the contact.

“are you done?” he asked quietly, impatient. he didn’t want to sit still, he wanted to kiss you, to let his hands roam over your smooth skin, to never leave the house again and to keep you with him forever. he was greedy like that, but how could he not be when you looked at him with so much adoration, when your touch was so soft on his skin, when his heart was so full of you he could hardly call it his own?

“almost,” you said, reaching for your lip gloss to put on his plump lips. he observed your every motion, how your body moved so beautifully - everything about you was alluring. “pucker up,” you ordered and this time minho didn’t even protest, completely infatuated, as if you somehow hypnotised him. his hands found their way to your hips once again, caressing them. you straightened your back, examining how his lips looked with the red tint. “okay, now i’m done.” minho smirked at your words, his impatient hands finally grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. you yelped at his sudden action, feeling too exposed despite him seeing you without clothes plenty of times.

minho placed his hand on the small of your back and quickly but gently laid you down on the mattress. his eyes were full of hunger, the glitter on his face making him look like a god. “now it’s my time to paint your face,” he whispered, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek, then another and another, leaving a red trail of the sticky lip gloss all over your burning skin. a sigh left your lips when his mouth met with your clavicle, one of your hands found its way to his hair, threading your fingers through his messy locks as the other one pushed the makeup products from the bed onto the soft carpet.

you let him consume you entirely, because you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and when his desperate hand roamed all over your bare body you only let out small please, minho’s name leaving your lips like a prayer.

ᝰ taglist: @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @inniescandy-01

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz lee know #lee know imagines #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know headcanons #lee know scenarios #lee know hard thoughts #lee know hard hours

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calicoups · 8 months

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౨ৎ oranges — csc

synopsis seungcheol peels you oranges... pairing seungcheol x fem reader genre fluff word count 0.5k hani’s notes cus i know this man would do it🥹 if you like my work, please consider reblogging or commenting because it motivates me sm rather than just liking 🩷

“doll,” seungcheol nudges you softly, “here.”

you tear your eyes away from the tv screen to look at seungcheol’s face who gestures to his hand with his eyes, eyebrows raising slightly.

in his open hand sits a peeled orange. it’s peeled so perfectly that it actually hurts, there’s none of those pesky piths on the orange segments and no seeds which you had mentioned to seungcheol that you preferred oranges without seeds and ever since, he’s only brought home clementines or any other types of seedless oranges.

“i didn’t…?”

seungcheol smiles softly, “i know you didn’t, but i also know how you like snacking on oranges while we watch our show.”

you think you might burst with all the love you have for the man before you. he peeled it without you even having to ask.

laughing at his witty statement, you take the orange from his hand and whisper a quiet ‘thank you’ before taking his hand in yours and bringing it to your lips for a kiss. a stamp of gratitude.

that’s when you notice it. the free edge of his nails are a tinted yellow-orange colour, like the peel of the orange he had ripped off so carefully that it did not break off at any part.

“hey,” you start, “your nails are stained.”

seungcheol pulls his hand away to take a look and he laughs, “really? i didn’t even realise that.”

“don’t peel these next time, your nails are orange now.”

he just stares at you for a few moments, so lost in your worry-filled eyes.

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth, filled with amusement because you were so adorable to him. the way you were concerned about his nails staining, he could kiss you senseless right then and there.

“sweetheart, i’d peel hundreds of oranges even if it meant that my nails would get stained in this way every time.”

oh.

his comment has rendered you absolutely speechless. you fall still for what feels like ages, trying to process his sickeningly sweet words — you might have to see a dentist after this.

your mouth opens then closes again, unable to get a single word out. blood rushes to your cheeks and you can feel them become warmer and warmer the longer you stare into seungcheol’s alluring eyes.

you don’t think you can hold it back any longer, so you place the orange on the coffee table and throw yourself onto seungcheol, tightening your arms around his neck.

the vibrations from his throat as he laughs transfer onto your body and you press yourself into him more. saying that you were flustered from his comment would be an understatement. you were more than flustered and so in love with choi seungcheol.

“has my sweet girl gone all shy?” he teases and you hide yourself further in the junction between his shoulder and neck.

as you’re shaking your head ‘no’, he laughs again, one large hand going to stroke the side of your head. the tip of your ears are hot to his touch and now he knows for sure that you’re shy and a blushing mess.

seungcheol pulls away from the embrace and looks at you with ‘heart eyes’. when you go to hide your face again, he stops you, hands going to either side of your face and lips pressing against your cheek.

“oh, my silly girl,” he follows your avoiding eyes, “what am i ever going to do with you? hm?”

also guys look....that penguin is so him in the picture i put below, i'm sobbing...T__T

#hani writes!#hani writes: csc #hani writes: svt #caratsland #scoups #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #scoups imagines #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff

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vampyrris · 1 year

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just you and levi being pervy at the beach, tsk tsk

cw: being touchy-touchy in public lol

nestled on the beach towel, you watched your friends in the distance. they splashed around in the water, huge smiles plastered on their faces. hange was trying to dunk erwin under the current, going down with him in the process as a huge wave hit. you giggled at that.

you weren’t a big fan of the sea. the mostly unexplored ocean scared you shitless, so you opted to stay back on the shore instead. clearly bothered by your decision, levi had thrown some colourful terms at you before leaving with the rest of them.

and so now you remained eyes closed and basking under the sun in your little refuge.

but not long after, you sensed a presence near you. cracking one eye open, you found levi looking down at you, eyes furrowed and mouth set in a deep pout. you also couldn't help but let your eyes run over him—his white shirt unbuttoned, exposing his wet skin, and his damp shorts clinging deliciously against his buldge. your eyes lingered on his abs for a while, droplets of water cascading down the slopes, before quickly returning to meet his gaze.

“hey you,” you gave him a lazy smile, shifting on your side and propping yourself up on your elbow.

his eyes gave away nothing as they swept over your figure. you tilted your head, letting him see his fill. you’d picked your favourite bikini set today, knowing even if you didn't exactly go for a swim, you could at least look sexy sitting here.

you definitely did not pick this one secretly hoping levi would appreciate it. definitely not.

he cleared his throat, sitting down beside you.

“why are you still here?” he shook his hair, spraying water all around him. you yelped, sending him a glare.

“just chilling, looking pretty. you done having your bit of fun for the day? social battery run out yet?” you asked as you sat up.

he shrugged, looking at the others in the distance. “just was wondering what you were still doing here alone.”

you reached out and pinched his cheek. “aww, were you worried about me? that’s new.” you threw him a smirk that you knew would get his blood boiling.

he only rolled his eyes, shoving you off. “you’re fucking annoying, you know that?”

“you didn’t think i was fucking annoying when you were checking me out just now.” you pouted.

he scoffed, even as pink tinted his cheeks. “i was only about to say you should put a shirt on and stop giving everyone a weird porno fantasy at the beach for free.”

you looked around, noticing there was almost little to no one around. “well, since it’s just us here, i’m giving you a free porno fantasy.”

he scoffed again, looking away.

you sent him a teasing smile, assuring him you were only joking. well, half-joking.

it had been a long while since this tension bloomed between you and levi, and he had done shit-all about it, not even letting you know where you both stood. so naturally, you took matters in your own hands.

you’d begun teasing him unabashedly, whether it be brushing up against him, playing with his hair, touching up his thigh, or even wearing a pretty bikini for him.

but all your efforts had gone down the drain, since he never seemed to be taking the hint.

you chewed on your lip as you thought about your next move.

“you know what, i wanna get in the water.” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your bottle of sunscreen. levi looked at you in surprise, but you paid him no heed. squirting a generous amount on your palm, you worked it between your hands started rubbing it onto your arms and chest.

you made sure you were slightly facing him as you sat on your knees, spreading the cream on your skin slowly. your hands glided between your breasts and over your stomach, going lower and lower.

levi was watching you very carefully.

keenly aware of his gaze following your every move, you adjusted the string securing the fabric between your thighs, pulling it up so the cloth strained against the plumpness of your pussy.

levi’s arm shot out and grabbed you, stopping your motions.

“i know what you’re doing.” he muttered, giving you a hard look. his eyes were glazed, and you felt a surge of satisfaction knowing you were the reason.

you bit your lip, peering up at him through your lashes. “so, it’s working?”

he snatched the bottle from your hand, surprising you.

“wha—?”

“lie back down on your stomach.” he ordered.

he levelled you with a look, waiting. you bit your lip again and smirked before doing as he asked.

as you got comfortable on the towel, you could still feel levi’s piercing gaze on your back. wiggling your ass a little as you settled, you turned your head towards him only to find his eyes fixated on your behind with an intensity that made heat loom low in your belly.

a little flushed, you moved your hair to one side and nestled your head on your folded arms.

you watched him squirt the cream in his hands before lathering it between them.

a sigh escaped your lips when his palms came into contact with your skin, the lather’s coolness soothing against the heat of his palms. he slowly dragged his fingers down your spine, undoing the strings of your bikini top.

“levi, our friends are right there!” you hissed, lifting your head anxiously even as excitement thrummed in your veins.

he began massaging your back despite your protest. “i’m just helping you out, nothing to see here.”

your heart thundered in your chest as you watched your friends still in the water, paying zero attention to your little performance a few feet away.

levi’s touch was gentle but firm as he stroked across your shoulder blades, his fingers gliding smoothly across your soft skin.

“relax,” he whispered, his voice dropping an octave. the sound shot straight between your legs, making you clench them in anticipation.

he moved lower down your back, his touch skilled as his fingers moved deftly in even strokes. an involuntary moan escaped your lips as he worked a particularly tight spot. you slapped a hand on your mouth, cheeks flaming in embarrassment, but his hands never stopped even as he chuckled and wrung out another strained moan from you.

“levi..” you weakly protested, not really wanting him to stop.

but then, levi leaned down and whispered, “does this need some attention, too?” he gently squeezed your ass. you gasped, meeting his stare.

noticing how heated his gaze was, you took his hand, feeling bold. you lowered it between your legs over your clothed, throbbing cunt.

“this requires more attention, i think.”

he shut his eyes and groaned, feeling your wetness seep through the cloth as he pressed a finger there.

“you nasty fucking minx.” his gravelly voice made you clench again, but this time around his fingers. he rubbed tight circles on your wetness, eliciting a shameless whimper from you.

you raised your head a little, brushing your lips against his. “i wanna hear you calling me that when you’re fucking m—”

something hit your head, and you jumped back, slapping levi’s hand away. you heard levi curse under his breath.

“not here, please! spare us!” hange yelled. erwin beside her had his hand over his eyes, visibly cringing.

levi snorted and slapped your butt playfully before removing himself from you. he sent you a promising smirk. “later, then.”

you sent one right back. “i’ll be waiting.”

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momotonescreaming · 9 months

Text

Part One | Part Two

Jeff felt like he was the only one who actually tried to do some study during his free period. Granted, this was mostly because he didn’t share his free period with anyone, but hey. He’s still counting it. It felt easier than studying at home — no mom to knock on his door every few minutes to ask him something, no annoying younger brothers. Just annoying students constantly getting shushed for talking too loud in the library. At least they listened when the librarian scolded them, unlike a pair of certain younger brothers.

So every day he could, he claimed the same table off to the side of the library, spread out his books, and tried to get some work done. Work on an essay, do some math sheets, sneak in some DnD research when he had the time (and wasn’t worried about the other teens trying to vandalise his papers). It meant he had more time at home to do things he actually liked. DnD. Guitar. Watch some TV.

It was calm, it was routine. No one else sat at his table, and it was better that way. No one wanted to hang out with one of the freaks. It was better when the cliques of Hawkins High didn’t interact. It was also easier said than done. A voice clears — light, high, and almost tentative. Right next to his table. Jeff looks up and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Chrissy Cunningham.

His heart skips a beat, butterflies flutter in his stomach, every single lovesick cliché. Jeff felt them all. Feelings swirling in his stomach like honey. Sticky sweet and coating all of his insides. It was inescapable. Unavoidable.

She was cute, and he could swear he could smell her floral perfume and strawberry shampoo. Chrissy was that close and it was a silly little thing he had dreamed about. Being that close to the head cheerleader, his unattainable crush.

Her hair was tied up in a lilac scrunchie, ponytail perfectly curled, with matching lilac eyeshadow. He was close enough that he could notice these things, could see how the colour matched the purple tint in her ruffled plaid skirt.

Jeff smiled at her, almost unconsciously, trying not to seem too much like a freak. Just another normal guy. He didn’t want to scare her off. He listened to Eddie rant about conformity all day, but smiling at a pretty girl to make her more comfortable doesn’t seem so bad.

“Hi, um,” Chrissy starts, clutching a stack of books to her chest. There’s a subtle flush to her cheeks, rosy red, and Jeff can’t quite tell if it’s makeup or if it’s just her flustered over him. She continues before he can start over thinking about whether it’s a good flush or not. Does he make her nervous. “Can I sit here? Everywhere else is taken.”

Jeff looks over, and finds that Chrissy’s right. All the other tables are full, students littering the tables with books and papers with no room for anyone else. All tables, except his. It’s sort of telling, that the only table free is his, and no one else's, but he’s trying not to think about it too hard. Not when it’s led Chrissy to him, cutely and shyly asking if she can sit.

“Of course,” he replies, a little hurried, maybe a little too desperate sounding. He bites back a wince, and moves some of his textbooks out of her way. “Totally.”

And she smiles, something soft and small, just for him — as she thanks him and slides into one of the seats opposite. He smiles back, heart fluttering within the confines of his ribcage. Looking back down at the notes he’s been working on for his English essay, it suddenly doesn’t seem a appealing. Not in the way that it normally does. The words blur into one another, drift across the page, as Jeff tries to keep his gaze firm on the page and not sneaking upwards to glance at Chrissy.

At her perfectly coordinated outfit, preppy and cute, without looking too frumpy. At the way her bangs frame her face, highlighting her cheeks, her shining eyes. At the subtle gloss on her lips, tinted a faint pink. Jeff wonders what it tastes like. What it would feel like against his lips. Is it cherry flavoured, or strawberry — to match her hair. Would it be sticky as their lips meet? A thread of lip gloss and saliva stringing between them as they pull apart.

Shaking his head, willing that particular train of thought to leave his head, he closes his English notes and pulls out the math sheets that Mr Mundy gave them this morning. Grips his pencil tight and tries not to think about how Chrissy is right there. He can hear her organise her books, unzip her bag and take out her things. The scratch of pen on paper. The flip of the pages turning.

It’s sort of soothing, the soft sounds of Chrissy working, a nice noise overlaying the background noises of the library. And not just because it’s her. It’s nicer than the other teens whispering and giggling about being told off by the librarian, it’s better than the annoyances he gets at home. The subtle noise of someone working in tandem with him. It’s nice. Just keeping him company. Even if Chrissy just wanted an empty table, and not him specifically.

Jeff tries to concentrate, and works on his math sheets. Tries to speed through them without totally beefing it. Math isn’t his favourite subject — that would be English Lit, funnily enough — but he’s not totally terrible at math. DnD has admittedly, helped. Which was part of the reason his parents let him continue with it (the other part, of course, being that he enjoyed it).

So he thinks of DnD, and of math, and tries to focus on Mr Mundy’s worksheet. Except it doesn’t go all that well, because of course it doesn’t. He’ll work through a problem, sneak a glance at Chrissy, at the matching purple shade she’s painted her nails, and look back at the worksheet only to find he’s worked through the problem all wrong. Sighing, Jeff erases what he’s done, and looks at the equation.

“Excuse me, um,” Chrissy starts quietly, whispering as to not invoke the ire of the already stressed librarian. “Do you have a spare pen, mine’s ran out of ink.”

Jeff looks up, throat hitching, lungs holding air as he locks eyes with Chrissy. Clear blue, deep and inviting and looking at him. He tries to hold himself back, to try not to smile like a loon, and he’s not sure if he’s successful or not.

“It’s Jeff,” he starts, clearing his throat, before digging through his pencil case for a pen he can spare. “And sure. Hope blue’s okay. I know O’Donnell can be a real stickler about black pens only.”

"Blue’s fine,” Chrissy giggles. Fucking giggles. Pressing a hand lightly to her mouth, her soft lips — the other reaching out for the pen Jeff retrieved. “It’s not for O’Donnell.”

“No worries then,” he replies, automatically holding his breath as Chrissy takes the pen, her fingertips brushing against the skin of his hand. Her skin is soft, moisturised, and feels like silk against his. What would it be like, Jeff wonders — retracting his hand, not letting himself linger — if she were to hold his hand. Not just a mere brush of fingertips. Would she entangle their fingers, clutching tight? Would she link their pinkies, swinging their arms in between them as they walked? Would she hold his hand over the table, where everyone could see, so they could work and stay connected at the same time?

“Thank you,” She says, shaking him out of it, uncapping the pen. She jolts a little, eyes widening. “Oh! I’m Chrissy by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeff replies, smiling and tilting his head at her. He can feel all his insides melting inside him, conjoining into one horrible feelings-filled blob settling in his stomach. Clawing up his ribs, growing likes vines. It was everywhere, it was growing, no amount of smothering was going to kill this crush anytime soon. Not when Chrissy was there, looking the way she did, smiling at him so sweetly. Being kind to him.

—

At the end of their free period they went their separate ways, shaken out of their quiet camaraderie by the ringing of the bell. She had smiled at thanked him as she left, face flushed and ponytail swinging behind her.

Jeff felt like he was going to melt into a puddle, but he still, tragically, had class to go to. So he quickly packed up his things and headed to his next class. He shared it with Frank, which was nice as they actually got to sit next to one another. But the guy was scarily perceptive, and Jeff kind of wanted to keep that moment to himself for a little bit. Wrap it up in tape and hold it close, tucked into his chest. Just him, and Chrissy, and the way that she smiled at him.

But if Jeff knew Frank (and he did), he’d read Jeff like a book. Hopefully he could read him enough that he knew Jeff wanted it unsaid, just for the moment. Not counting Eddie, of course. He was his best friend, and he got it, with his insufferable crush on Steve Harrington.

He’d tell Frank eventually, of course he would, but not now. Definitely not on school grounds, while everyone was still there. If a cheerleader or god forbid — one of the basketball jocks — heard Jeff say he had a crush on the head cheerleader? He’d throw himself into the deep end of lovers lake, never to be seen again.

So he sighs, and enters his next class, hitches his bag further up his shoulder and heads towards his assigned desk. Frank arrives shortly after, messenger bag slung on one shoulder and they lock eyes. He tries to keep it casual light, but he’s sure he sees something on his face. See the like and love and ooey gooey feelings seeping out of his pores.

“Did Kaminsky quiz you again?” Jeff asks, hoping to draw the attention away from his traitorous heart. Frank immediately groans in exasperation, tilting his head to the ceiling, and Jeff just laughs. A wash of relief rushing over his tangled emotions.

—

School dragged on, as it always did at the end of the day, and all Jeff wanted to do was go home and lock himself in his room. Maybe wallow in his emotions for a bit, let them settle, and learn some love song on the guitar. Use it to work through his feelings. Sort through them like puzzle pieces. Pick them up one by one, and carefully slot them into place. There’s gotta be some good metal ones he can learn.

Jeff lets his mind drift, thinking of songs, and of guitars, and of learning a song just for Chrissy. Lets the class wash over him, absently writing down notes, entirely without thinking about it. He should care about this stuff, should want to take notes, should want to pass. But all of a sudden it really doesn’t seem like it matters. Not when Chrissy sat with him, had talked to him, had borrowed his pen. She forgot to give it back in the end, in the rush of the bell, but Jeff didn’t mind. Not when his crush now had something of his.

Ripping his gaze back towards the blackboard, towards the teacher, he lets the subconscious smile he was sporting drop from his face. Drifting his way through the end of class until finally, finally, the end of day bell rings and he’s free. Packing up his things as fast as he can, absently chatting with Frank as they exit class along with the flood of students.

It’s not Friday, so there’s no Hellfire. There’s no Corroded Coffin practice, he doesn’t have to drive his brothers across town to soccer, or some other lesson they’ve been begging their parents to go to. He just needs to get them, go home, and then he’s free to lock his bedroom door and melt into the carpet.

“You need a ride?” Jeff asks Frank, furrowing his brow as he turns towards his friend. The pair of them slowly walking to the student car park.

“Nah,” Frank replies, hitching his bag further onto his shoulder. “My mom’s picking me up so she can take us shopping for my dad’s birthday. Thanks though.”

“All good man,” Jeff replies, and he can’t help but be quietly relieved. That he doesn’t have to make more small talk, that he won’t politely have to invite Frank in to hang out (because he would, of course he would). That he can leave the school day behind, go home and spend some time alone. He needs it, every now and then, to centre himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Frank claps him on the shoulder as he says goodbye, before heading over to the pick up zone. Jeff sighs, lets all the air out of his lungs, before going to wait by his car.

It used to be his dads — an old white ford — but passed onto Jeff when he upgraded on the condition that he help them drive his brothers around. Jeff had agreed, was desperate for his own car — just little bit more freedom — but he was not a fan of being asked to cart his brothers around like a chauffeur.

So at the end of school Jeff would loiter next to his car until bis brother Vincent came over from the middle school, before driving through the truly terrible pick up line at Hawkins Elementary for Kenneth. It wasn’t that bad, usually. If Vincent didn’t take his sweet time chatting to his friends and being annoying. Making Jeff late. Because of course he did.

He had some time, is what he was saying. Absently scans the parking lot, seeing if there’s anyone he knows, anyone interesting he can people watch. If Chrissy is out here somewhere.

Does she take the bus? Does she walk? Is she staying late for cheer practice? Does she drive, or get a ride from someone else? Her mom, her best friend, Jason. Does he walk her to his car after school, does he hold her books or open the door for her? Does he drive her home with his hand resting on her thigh?

Would she let Jeff do those things. Smiling at him out of the corner of her eyes, giggling when he turns to look at her too. Would she hold his hand over the gear-stick, letting her hand be moved along with his?

“Why are you smiling like that?�� Vincent says, entirely too close to Jeff for his liking, making him jolt in place — just slightly. “Weirdo.”

Jeff frowns, looking down at his younger brother to find him giving him a look. Jeff knows that look, he’s seen it on his shithead brother’s face entirely too often. He’s thinking he knows something, is jumping to conclusions, is being a know it all. And if his brothers start talking about how he’s lovesick, has a crush, a girlfriend — it’s all over. He won’t hear the end of it. So he deflects.

“Nothing you need to worry about Vinnie,” Jeff replies, ruffling his brothers hair — because he knows he hates it. “Grown up stuff.”

“You’re not a grown up!” Vincent exclaims indignantly, just as predicted, as they both get into Jeff’s unlocked car. It’s all too easy. A good distraction. “You’re still in high school!”

“I’m closer than you, squirt,” Jeff retorts easily, buckling his seatbelt and starting the engine. Drives off to the sounds of his brothers ranting, and thoughts of Chrissy.

Tag List@goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr

Part Four | Part Five

#Stranger Things #Jeff Stranger Things #Chrissy Cunningham #Unnamed freak #(he's named frank in this)#Jeffingham #Jeff/Chrissy #My Writing #Teenage Dream

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melodic-haze · 4 months

Note

petplay w ayaka.... (I just wanna collar her man 😞😞) 🐡

OH SAY LESS 😋😋😋😋

I thought of a really bad joke about her being collar-full bc yk. Petplay but also it's Pride so she's also colourful but then I remembered the Panic! song, 'Collar Full', and got a little sad at the musical scenario with Ayaka so nvm anywsy OH GOODNESS GRACIOUS mmmmgghghgnff just thinking about it is WRECKING me severely hallelujah

Imagine just having her on a leash, her collar a nice shade of ice blue to match her hair and her eyes. Tug on it and you see the small nametag shine as it catches the light and reflects her etched name into your eyes, and you know that on the back of it states that such a cute little pet is your property

Pull on the leash to beckon her closer as she licks you and services you the best she can. Sure, her head game might be clumsy for now, but she makes up for the lack of skill with enthusiasm. And even then, you can just easily teach her new tricks, making sure that she takes in every lesson as you train her to be the best pet she can be 🥰

Ohhh she's soooo obedient too!!! The moment you clicked the collar on, all signs of shame and decorum faded away, replaced with such submissive need that the sight is actually pathetic 🫶🫶🫶🫶 but it's okay we love women no matter what, even if they're all dumb and pathetic for you and your cum 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 tell her to bark for you and she will, and it's hard not to feel anything with that blush tinting her pale cheeks :3

You train her enough, put on some sort of reward system or something, and you might even end up conditioning her ☺️ just a pat on the head and a simple little "good girl" coming out of your lips and you see her pupils DILATE as she switches from normal to being your cute lil puppy ohhhhhh that's such a dangerous power to hold ☺️☺️

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dearmantis · 2 years

Text

Dried Flowers

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Reader

Summary: After killing another person who tried to earn your hand in marriage, Aleksander finally manages to get you right where he has always wanted you.

Warning: murder, slut-shaming, blood, obsession, manipulation, dacryphilia (kind of? not sexual, he's just weird about tears??)

Word Count: 2k

Authors' Note: My ability to form sentences in English is slowly disappearing. What is grammar? I don't know anymore. What is logic? I don't know that either. I think I know nothing at all, actually. I also didn't proofread this at all and this isn't my native language, just fyi.

The blood tints the water a beautiful rose colour, similar to the petals of a flower Aleksander has seen you wear in your hair a few days ago.

He's washing his hands slowly, making sure to get every single drop off using the strongest smelling soap he owns in hopes of removing the metallic smell from his skin and a small brush to get the dried flakes out from under his nails.

His gaze moves over to the mirror, checking his shirt for blood splatter in the reflection, but he luckily finds nothing. There are some drops on his face, the red covering his cheek, nose, and parts of his forehead.

He has licked the ones that landed on his lips off a while ago, enjoying the taste of it like an expensive wine as he watched the man bleed out on the floor, his blood forming a small puddle beneath his body while his weak voice begged for mercy.

When he's sure that he got everything off his hands, he grabs a small handkerchief and dips it into the water before using it to remove the blood from his face. He has no time to waste, but he wants to make sure he looks right nonetheless.

In an hour, you will realize that your Lord Peter will not come to your planned shared breakfast. You will send servants to his room to check on him and they will discover the letter he forged, explaining how the Lord wanted to use you as a distraction after falling for a young woman in Ketterdam during his travels and recently decided that he loves her too much to stay away from her any longer.

It will break your heart, but sacrifices must be made, and breaking your heart now would be better than breaking it later after you truly lost your heart to him.

It was a shame, really. Lord Peter had been nice, one of the few nobles in Ravka who did not openly talk badly about Grisha, but Aleksander still couldn't let you marry him. No, you had to stay here, right in the Grand Palace, and Peter would've dragged you to his estate close to the border, never to be seen again.

And Aleksander needs you here. You can't leave. Ever.

After the blood is fully washed off his face he washes the handkerchief and places it on the windowsill to dry in the rising morning sun before opening the window and moving to dump the bloody water into the bed of flowers growing below.

Then he sits back down at his desk and moves to continue with todays paperwork while he waits, patient like a cat that knows that the little mouse will walk right into its mouth.

An hour later you are sitting on his lap, hands tightly holding onto his kefta while he uses the handkerchief he used to remove the blood from his face to dry your tears, carefully dabbing the soft, freshly washed fabric against your skin.

"I just don't understand why this keeps happening." He hears you whisper under your breath, his eyes still focused on the tears rolling down your cheeks. You look so beautiful when you cry. Ethereal. Magical. "Why am I never enough? Why not?"

He can feel a painful pinch in his heart when he hears your words. It's not you who isn't good enough for them. They aren't good enough for you.

You, his beautiful little Princess who boldly stands up for his Grisha and gets harassed with horrible rumours in return. Who gets shamed and threatened and withstands it all despite your softness, like a wild flower surviving the most destructive storms.

"She's under the Darklings spell."

"Nobody wants to marry her except the General and now she defends him to make sure he doesn't loose interest."

"The poor girl is being manipulated by him. He uses her as a shield to protect the Grisha and the stupid thing is too blind to see it."

"He must've fucked his magic into her and it scrambled her mind."

So much gossip surrounds you, but you never complain. You don't even mention what they say about you, probably fearing that he will distance himself from you as well after finding out how people talk about you. That the last friend you have left will leave, unwilling to have his reputation ruined even more.

But he would never leave you. In Aleksanders eyes, you're the only honourable otkazat'sya currently alive in all of Ravka. He will do everything in his power to make sure you stay right here with him and influence politics further. You're a sensible person. Good. Kind. And you work hard to make sure people understand and respect the way you see the world. You fight for change.

So you have to stay right here with him.

"You're more than enough." He answers softly, dropping the handkerchief onto the sofa next to you before his hands move up to cup your face, making sure you're looking him in the face and see the truth in his eyes.

"You are so much better than anyone in Ravka understands. You have a soft, caring heart, and those who do not understand it see it as weakness. But I understand. I understand your strength."

Every single word that falls from his lips is calculated, his voice soft and kind in hopes of making you more susceptible to him.

"And you understand me. You understand how I see the world. What needs to change to make sure Grisha and otkazat'sya can live together in peace. You are perfect."

You don't understand him, not yet, at least, but you will. He will make sure of it. You will understand it all. His little flower.

He lets his hands move down to your waist, and your head immediately drops to rest on his shoulder, your face pressing into his neck.

"Why can't I just marry you..." Aleksander hears you murmur, almost entirely soundless, and he has to fight the smirk trying to find its way onto his lips.

"What was that?"

An embarrassed whimper leaves your lips, a sweet, pathetic sound that he would love to hear forever. "Forget it."

"No, no. Come on, don't be shy." Aleksander encourages, carefully drawing circles on your back while you press your face closer to his neck.

"It's stupid."

The Shadow Summoner doesn't respond, instead choosing to simply wait until you manage to collect enough confidence to repeat and explain yourself. You need to make this step on your own.

"My father will not stop until I'm married. He will continue to set me up with new people in hopes of marrying me off to get me out of the Palace."

You lift your head to look into his face, probably fearing that he won't understand you if you keep whispering against his neck, forcing you to repeat this whole thing a third time.

"And the people he chooses will continue to run away from me. Even the nicest people leave me behind and instead pick a different fate for themselves. For some reason, everyone seems to agree that marrying me is not worth it, a destiny too cruel to live through. No one ever stays with me. No one except you."

New tears sparkle in your eyes, and Aleksander decides it's the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege of witnessing. When you cry, all of your emotions are so visible in your eyes. You hide nothing, the mask that all nobles in Ravka wear washed away by the tears rolling down your face. The fact that you trust him to see all of your vulnerability and weakness fills him with glee.

"So I thought that maybe... maybe it would be an option for us to marry."

Before Aleksander gets the chance to respond, you begin talking once more, making it clear to him that you will probably start rambling.

"Of course, that's stupid. We're friends, and I really don't want to ruin this, and I know that I just did that by mentioning that I think we should marry, and I'm really sorry. It's pathetic and honestly disrespectful to you to ask you to marry me just because I'm sick of being alone and I'm pretty sure my father wouldn't even allow it so we would have to do it in secret which isn't fair to you and I-"

He cuts you off by carefully touching your face once more, willing his gaze to soften. He needs to at least pretend to be vulnerable right now to fully get you where he wants you to be.

"It would be an honour to marry you, moya tsarevna. It doesn't matter if in secret or in front of all of Ravka. You are my best friend, and it would be a privilege to be tied to you legally and free you from this constant pain of losing every person you get close to in the same breath."

Leaning forward, he presses his forehead against yours, hoping that the physical proximity will make him seem more honest than he truly is.

"But I don't want you to marry me just because you fear that you will end up alone. I want you to decide for yourself that you want a future with me. One where we can fight side by side for Grisha and Otkazat'sya to live in harmony."

He would marry you right now if you simply ask him. It's the ideal end to his plan, after all. If you were married to him, he wouldn't have to keep killing all of your friends and possible marriage candidates because you would already be tied to him and the Little Palace. You could never leave. You would be here with him forever.

Or, well... until you died from old age. But that's a problem he can solve, he's sure of it. He will make sure his little flower will live on and continue fighting with him. You're part of this eternal battle now, and he will not let you escape it though something like death.

It really doesn't matter why you want to marry him, but it would make the future easier for him and yourself if you simply learned to love him romantically. You'd also probably be more likely to forgive him for the more controversial ideas he has if your heart is full with love for him. As much as he wants to grab you and drag you over to a church to get it over with, he needs to be patient.

The end is in sight, there is no reason to rush things and risk mistakes later. This is the foundation for a bright future.

The worst thing that could happen is that you choose to wait and get to know another Lord who your father wants you to marry.

Another person for Aleksander to kill.

And then, when his dead body slowly starts to decompose in the flowerbeds of the Little Palace alongside the other people he has killed for this, you will find your way back into his arms for comfort and decide that you will marry him. There's no reason to force you to marry him now.

"I would love to be married to you, General. It would be an honour for me as well. You are a great general and an even greater man. I respect you more than anyone else. I promise it's not just because I fear to disappoint my family and end up alone. I have always admired your protective and caring nature, and I genuinely believe that you could be a great husband. One that I can easily love."

He moves your face back to the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around your waist and pressing you tightly against his body. He can't hide the wide grin on his face.

The mouse walked into the cats open mouth. You are his.

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #darkling x reader

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justatypicalwizard · 1 year

Text

Rough and new | Bakugo | part four

✦ Summary: You meet a new and interesting creature that seems to share your curiosity. Both of you have motives to your actions that turn out to be vastly different.

✦ Warnings: mer!Bakugo, fem!reader, adult reader, smut(ish) content due to the curcumstances of the story do not expect full smut, dubcon

Minors do not interact

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

It was such a bad idea, moving even an inch towards the mer. He looked so calm, despite the frown contorting his face earlier. Stupid you, as soon as your fingers brushed his he gripped at your wrist hard pulling your helpless body. You didn’t even register where your arms and legs went as your eyes filled to the brim with tears. The blonde started to grumble which only made you flinch more, scared as hell. With every unnatural sound escaping his lips you could see, very well from the angle you were at, his sharp teeth.

You would literally start to hyperventilate had it not been for the membrane-connected hand trying to organise your face. He wiped out the fresh tears staining your cheeks and pushed the loose hair strands out of your forehead a little bit too roughly. His growling quieted down as he examined your saddened face. Then his eyes locked with yours and a tint of uncertainty crossed his features. Your gaze seemed to freeze him for a moment.

The place in which your body was held was so very unnatural. If not for the ongoing sunset you’d be blinded. The now colourful sky encircled his ash blonde locks like a halo. The first shots of adrenaline seemed to quiet down in your body making you think straight once again.

The mer was already here when you came. He didn’t spare a minute to jump onto the stone and waited for you. For you? Most likely. As soon as you came into his field of vision he was engaged with you solely. Did you… anger him with your reluctant behaviour?

‘’I’m-’’ You hiccuped, your voice a whisper. ‘’Sorry.’’

The blonde hummed in response, his features not changing a bit, most likely not knowing what you just said. It didn’t matter though, what became important to you was his calmness. He didn’t make any rough moves, he didn’t growl at you, he didn’t show his pointy canines. The mer was tranquil like a windless seaside. His composure started to rub off on you, giving you enough courage to shift from your uncomfortable position. He let go of you slightly, still circling your form with his much larger hands, yet you moved freely. Slipping off of him your ass landed on the stone. You tried to act reasonably and physically get away from him, even though your mind noted the warmth of his body, so similar to the one you’d feel from other people, so soothing and reassuring, so… manly.

You mentally slapped yourself. Did you just consider a merman? Did your mind just drift to that thought about him? Idiot, he was an entirely different species than you. It would be as if you tried to pair… what exactly? Hundred thoughts seemed to pass your mind but at the same time it was empty from anything coherent. You had to draw a line and realise it was a silly little thought that had no place in this situation whatsoever. You should stay careful and perhaps have some small interactions with him. Like, what else could happen? The two of you couldn’t even talk to each other.

Still, you felt his slick scales under your tights that rested on his lap, is it called a lap? Yesterday he was reluctant to let you touch his tail. Now the blonde stared right down at your knees. His head darted to your face, then back to your tights. Was he interested in your legs? It was very possible. The upper part of your bodies look very alike, or at least it’s nothing surprising but the bottom, this was a different story.

You were just thinking about not touching him at all, that’s just what passed your head! But when was the last time someone was so interested in you, looked at you like that, with such amusement. Secretly you also wanted to feel his tail, maybe he would be willing to exchange.

Licking your chapped bottom lip you asked.

‘’Do you wanna touch?’’

He faced you immediately with a questioned look. Guess you’d have to show him somehow.

‘’Look, you can look around and touch my legs.’’ Even though he couldn’t understand a word you kept talking, somehow feeling more courageous like that, as if it was another human in front of you, not an eerie being. You grabbed one of his now free palms and dragged it slightly over your knee. ‘’But later I want to see your scales.’’ You pointed at his tail, emphasising the gesture.

The mer seemed to mull over the information for a short while before facing you once again and nodding. He growled something but his tone didn’t seem to hold any aggression. Finally, his hands rested on your knees, both of them. The blonde squeezed your kneecaps lightly, examining the way they moved slightly. His fingers traced under your knees, finding the soft spot, feeling your tendons there. You had to bite your lip not to let out a laugh. He was tickling you. The mer didn't seem to notice as he was too hung up on your legs. He followed your well exposed tibia, seemingly interested in its hardness as he gave it a light squeeze. Your calves must have surprised him more because as soon as he felt the soft back of your lower limb he grabbed at it. You tried to stay as silent as you could, giving him a free hand as long as he didn’t do anything uncomfortable for you. You were actually kinda relieved he went for your lower half, rather than inspecting your tights, so close to your…

Down with your calves he seemed to find his way to your Achilles. The small tendon interested him enough to pull your limbs up, as he pinched it slightly, comparing his fingers with the small dips. It was becoming really hard to stay still with the newly acquired, uncomfortable position and the mer roaming through such ticklish places. When he grabbed at your foot you gave up.

A squeak erupted from your throat, followed by a small laugh as you snatched your legs from him, scratching at all the places he tickled. Calming down quickly you wanted to reassure him somehow that he didn’t hurt you but as you looked back at his face your smile dropped.

Vermilion orbs were staring right at you, his pupils dilated enough to make the iris small. It looked like two solar eclipses trapped behind his eyes. He reached for your knee once again, turning to lay on his stomach, supporting himself with one hand. You let him. It was an exchange and maybe he didn’t feed his curiosity enough yet.

This time the mer went upwards, tracing the upper side of your tight. The force of your earlier toss made your back flat on the stone, your knees up and parted slightly. You looked at him, chin close to your chest as you propped up on your elbows. Suddenly the mer slides towards you closer, placing his head between your knees. You froze instantly. The sight of a man's face between your legs like that made your mind run fast.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

You reassured yourself coughing slightly. He has no clue what tights are, what they are for and what one can do with them. He’s just exploring. He may not even know he’s facing your cunt. Does he even know what a cunt is?

You were safer with the thought that no, he didn’t have a clue what a cunt is. This way it was just the two of you and your pure curiosity. This way you could push down the intrusive thoughts about his big body.

The mer slid the hand lower until he was grabbing the soft underside of your tight. You tensed under his touch which seemed to entertain him as he studied your muscles move. His palm reached the inside of your tight and it slid higher and higher leaving a burning trace. Your eyes, previously locked onto his fingers now darted towards his eyes and you swear, for a second, he looked like he knew what he was doing. That’s where you draw the line.

Pushing yourself up abruptly you broke the physical contact. This time he didn’t protest, calm once again. After the whole encounter you almost forgot it should be your chance, now you were more interested in taking deep breaths to sooth your burning cheeks.

The mer reminded you of your silent contract by taking the same position as you. He shifted all of his weight backwards, falling down. Propping himself up on his elbows he looked at you, waiting. The blonde’s biceps tensed and relaxed as he kept his balance, reminding you about the major size difference.

The sun basked his black-to-orange tail giving it a warm glow. Your heart pondered in your chest as your hand neared the very end of his tail. Maybe you should start with the top? What if the end is the most sensible, like with snakes? But he’s not a snake. Oh fuck it! He wasn’t considerate with you.

First came his fin, the largest one at the very bottom. It was black with three dark, pointy parts connected with a more transparent membrane. It was still fairly dark, you could barely see your hand from underneath it as you placed your palm flat on it. What surprised you was the softness of this part. It looked very stretchable but floaty at the same time. You traced your hand higher, feeling his slick scales. They were more dry now but the feeling was still very odd, as if they were made out of metal, perfectly smooth and squeezed closely like an armour. Dipping your finger underneath one would be too cruel so you let that thought to flee. The mer had one other fin. It was rather big and pointed downwards, curving like a knife. Sliding your hands upwards you grabbed that fin, eager to learn whether it was hard or not.

Your eyes fell to the place where his orange scales merged into light skin and you saw his chest moving up and down, fast. Looking up at the mer you saw that his gaze was stuck to your hand on his fin, his breaths hasty. When he met your eyes there was something dark behind his that made you back.

This reaction was new. Usually he would growl or stay calm but now he was flushed. The mer’s chest kept falling and rising too quick for your liking. Something must be going on.

Maybe… oh god no! Why do these thoughts crash around your mind? What if you did something similar to him between your tights? What if any of your actions came out as sensual to him? Of course they must reproduce somehow so they must feel attraction and all of this stuff connected to a developed brain.

Your cheeks reddened at that thought and you quickly started to think about how to apologise.

PART THREE | PARTH FIVE

SERIES MASTERLIST

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foolforharrry · 1 year

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Nails And Croissants

Word Count: 2.5k words

Summary: Harry and Willow go to get their nails done

This is just a short little thing to get the feel of how I wanna write the characters in a book that I'm planning. I an really excited about this and I hope that when I get to posting the actual chapters, you guys are going to like them and love them too.

This blurb is obviously way down the line from where the story is going to start but I wanted to give you guys a small taste of them.

This is also not that carefully written and is probably messy af, but I hope you still enjoy reading it.

if you wanna read more of my work, I have it all linked on my masterlist.

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and if you have any requests please feel free to give them to me and I will do my absolute best to do it.

Harry Styles Butterflies erupt in my stomach when I catch her eyes across the room.

The sunlight beaming in through the windows of the small nail salon makes the lighter strands of her brown hair look golden.

"What are you getting?", I ask her once she's sat down at the table right next to mine.

Her cheeks tint an adorable shade of pink when Willow's nail tech for today, Aspen, sets the bottles of nail polish Willow's chosen for today. "I swear it wasn't on purpose," she hurries out, her eyes flicking between the colours next to my own hands.

"Damn. And here I was getting excited thinking you wanted to match with me," I say with a playful roll of my eyes.

The laugh she lets slip is like music to my ears, and all I want to do is lay a kiss on her pretty, pink lips. But Mona coating my nails with a clear layer of base polish prevents me from doing so.

Instead, I settle on storing the image of Willow's face scrunched up with joy and laughter to memory. Her freckled, sun-kissed skin and the smile that doesn't just light up the room but my whole entire life.

"You're an idiot," Willow giggles, letting Aspen arrange her hands the way she needs them.

"I'm your idiot, though.", I remind her. To my delight, my words have another heartbreakingly beautiful break out on her face as she mouths 'I love you'.

Out of my peripheral vision, I can see Mona and Aspen exchange a look as I mouth 'I love you' back.

And God do I love her.

I never thought that I would ever be the kind of man who happily takes his girlfriend to get a manicure on my day off feeling like my heart is about to fucking burst from the love that's flooding it. The part of my heart I had tried so hard to keep under lock and key to protect it from being burnt again. But instead, Willow came along and took it in her soft hands. The calm of the sea in her eyes is all I needed to see before I let her.

"You ok, baby?" Willow asks, a crease of concern between her eyebrows.

Clearing my throat, I offer her a genuine smile, "Yeah, Blue. I'm ok." I can tell that she isn't entirely convinced, so I add; "Was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you."

The blush returns to her cheeks as Mona asks me to remove my hands from the UV-light machine. Which means that she's ready to give my nails some colour.

For the rest of the appointment, we make small talk with Aspen and Mona with the comfortable hum of the radio in the background. When a song by Taylor Swift I still haven't learnt the name of, Willow was out of her chair to turn up the volume with the permission of Aspen with a childish glee that she rarely lets show with anyone other than her closest people.

I swear I fell more in love with Willow when I watched her dance her way back to her chair.

Hand in hand, Willow and I walk out of the nail salon, freshly painted nails and bright smiles on our faces as we wave goodbye to Mona and Aspen. Our names are already on their calendar for next time.

I can't help myself from glancing down at our cojoined hands every couple of seconds, my heart fluttering at the way hers match mine.

Baby blue and pastel pink.

"H?" I don't even have to look at her face to know that Willow has her bottom lip tucked under her teeth and round eyes that'll have me giving into whatever comes out of her pouty lips.

"Blue?" I mimic her tone, tugging her closer to me so she doesn't bump into the man walking past us.

Willow lets go of my hand and before I can reach for it again, a pout on my lips, she snakes her arm around my back, my own going around her shoulders. "Are you hungry?"

I'm not. But knowing that she is and doesn't want to just ask directly, I don't say that. "What do you want, baby?"

It's like her shoulder deflates in relief the second the words leave my mouth and it has me turning my head and planting a kiss in her hair as I let her take her time settling on what she wants. Almost like she'd read my mind, she perks up, pointing across the street to what looks to be a small bakery.

"How about some croissants?", Willow suggests as I meet her eye.

"Croissants sound lovely," I agree, pouting my lips for a kiss.

Willow drops her gaze to my mouth at the action. Standing on her tiptoes, her hands gently cup my face as mine drop to her hips and peck. Her lips are soft as she presses them against mine in a way that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I can smell the coconut from her favourite lip gloss when she pulls away with a dopey smile, swiping away the product she left just below my bottom lip.

Blush heats my cheeks as I kiss the pad of her thumb, "Thank you, baby."

Thankfully the crosswalk is just down the street, the lights turning green for us after only a few seconds so we can make our way across the road safely and efficiently with my arm back around Willow's shoulders and her hand on my hip.

The bakery Willow picked out for us has a homey vibe to it. Flowers stationed on every single table with warm pinks and soft yellows everywhere you look. The smell of baked goods strong even from outside the shop. For a Thursday afternoon, it's rather busy.

Willow and I stood in silence as we waited for it to be our turn to order, content just watching the different people come in and out of the bakery every time the bell above the door rang.

The display of all the different options of baked goods is god damn mouth-watering and I make a mental note to bring Evelyn and Willow back sometime during the weekend. Knowing Evelyn, she would be over the moon over a cupcake that looks like a rainbow.

When it becomes our turn, I order us two croissants, thanking the lady behind the counter with a smile as she hands us the paper bag. And then we're on our way again.

"I was thinking that we should take Evie there," I speak as I take her hand in mine, resuming our walk back to the car with my eyes switching from the path in front of us to her face.

Meeting my eye, Willow nods with a hum, "When were you thinking?" "Maybe Sunday?"

Before she can ask, I add, "They're open."

"She's gonna have a hard time picking, poor thing," Willow laughs light-heartedly.

"Mhm," I hum in agreement, the smile that rarely ever seems to fade whenever I'm around her. If we're being completely honest, Willow and I both know that I would buy Evelyn every single one she wanted just to keep a smile on her face.

"I miss her," I say with a pout as we round the last building, my eyes landing on my car.

Willow rolls her bottom lip into her mouth before she opens it and says something I never in a million years thought I'd hear from her; "I don't know how you're gonna survive when she's off to college, babe."

Dropping her hand, I clutch the material of my t-shirt over my heart as if I was in pain. "Don't hurt an old man like that, Blue. I'm fragile."

"Oh shut up, H. You're not that old," Willow giggles with a hand on her stomach. Her nails match her pretty sundress and it has another swarm of butterflies flapping around in my tummy.

"It was still mean," I grumble with a pout, the thought of my little girl leaving one day isn't exactly one I enjoy.

Willow shakes her head at my attitude. "I'm sorry, love," she says with a pinch of my hip.

"You're lucky I love you," I say as I take her hand again, loving the warmth of her soft skin against mine. She grins at me, "The luckiest."

The soft curls of her hair dance in the light breeze blowing past us. Her golden skin glows so prettily in the sunshine she doesn't even look real. The light reflects in her baby blue eyes makes them twinkle as if the sun was hung in the sky at this very moment just for her.

I'm convinced that Willow is an angel sent down to this plane from the heavens above. Her calm, beauty and grace is simply too delicate to be meant for the harsh, painful world that we live in. But somehow, with all that she's been through, she still leaves a trail of light in her wake. She has lit up my life the way the sun lights up the sky after a dark night with only specks of light so far away you almost don't believe that they're real.

"No Blue. I'm the lucky one."

I'm sure she can hear the emotion that has started to clog up my throat, but she doesn't comment on it. Instead, she guides my hand to press a gentle kiss to my knuckle just as we reach the car.

I reach into my pocket for my keys, pressing the button to unlock the black range rover as I walk around to the passenger side with Willow in tow to open the door for her, quickly pecking her temple as she slips past me and gets settled in her seat with the bag of croissants in her lap.

By the time I'm sat in my own seat, she's opened the bag and is munching happily on her croissant. Eyes closed, head tilted back against the headrest and humming in the way she something is particularly delicious. She's got her hand underneath the pastry to catch any crumbs that may fall when she takes a bite out of it.

Just as I get out on the road, Willow's phone connects to the Bluetooth system in the car, the song switches to 'Right where you left me' by Taylor Swift.

It's almost comical how fast Willow's jaw drops along with her hand just as she was about to take another bite of her croissant. Her eyes go from the screen where the title is written in clear letters to my face. Accusing frown on her face as Taylor's voice and the gentle guitar fill the silence.

There isn't even a point in trying to contain my smile at the way it takes her around 5 seconds before she is turning up the volume and singing along to the song. Dramatic hand gestures and facial expressions that I catch out of my peripheral vision.

When she twists her upper body so she is fully facing me and sings; "I could feel the mascara run. You told me that you met someone," I can't help but take her hand and join her.

Who would have thought singing a heart-wrenching song about being left and unable to move on with the love of your life while driving down the streets of Los Angeles would have images of her in a white dress flash through my mind and a certainty settle in my stomach like I have only felt once before in my life?

When the song ends, Willow turns the volume back down, her face flushed from her intense performance and a shy smile curling on her lips.

If there wasn't a chance that doing so would potentially end in both of our deaths, I would've kissed her until we were both dizzy.

"You want your croissant?" Willow pulls the untouched one out of the bag, holding it out to me with her eyebrows raised in question.

Instead of saying anything, I open my mouth expectantly, waiting for her to get the hint. And when she does, she rolls her eyes playfully, still obliges and holds the pastry right in front of my face. She waits for me to take a bite out of the soft, crunchy slice of buttery heaven.

"Fuck me, that's good," I practically moan through a mouthful of croissant. This is possibly the best croissant I have ever had in my life.

Chewing it slowly, savouring the heavenly taste, I catch Willow with her phone out, pointed in my direction and a sly smile on her face. "What are doing, Blue?"

"You look really hot, is all," she shrugs, stuffing her phone underneath her thigh.

Willing the blush I feel heating up my face at the compliment go away, I point out the obvious; "That doesn't answer my question." Only Willow can have me blushing like a schoolboy and biting the inside of my cheek at a simple compliment.

"I got myself a new wallpaper for my phone," she tells me matter-of-factly as she squeezes my hand.

I rub the skin of her knuckle as the corners of my mouth tug up into a smirk, "If that's the case, then you can take as many pictures as you want."

When she stays quiet, taking bites of her croissant before letting me do the same, her left leg bouncing under beneath our cojoined hands, I can't help but laugh as the realisation dawns on me. "How many pictures do you actually have of me?"

She says something, but it's so quiet I can't make out the words. "I can't hear you, baby."

"I said that I've lost count," she repeats herself with a sheepish look on her face. "You don't exactly make it hard, baby."

"You ever gonna let me see these photos?" Knowing her, it's probably half pictures where I look decent and half pictures that could be turned into memes.

Willow takes a minute before she answers, seeming to mull over the answer in her head. "No."

"Then I'm not letting you see the wonderful collection I've gathered of you, Blue." It may be childish, but it does exactly what I wanted it to. Willow's grip on my hand tightens ever so lightly and I can feel her practically burning a hole into the side of my face with the intensity of her stare.

But she is stubborn, so she keeps her lips pressed tightly together. She keeps her view directed out the window at the cars, buildings and people we pass by.

"Am I sleeping in any of them?" she eventually breaks the silence. Her fingers drum along with the rhythm of 'Sweater Weather' against the back of my hand, something that I've noticed that she always does when she listens to music.

"A couple," I confess, holding in the urge to laugh at the way her cheeks turn crimson.

Clearing her throat, Willow tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "If they ever see the light of day, you're losing your dick."

Slightly taken aback by how casually such crude words flew out of her mouth, I swallow hard with wide eyes, "I will remember that."

#harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles #one direction #fanfiction #masterlist #fluff #original character #dadrry #dad harry styles

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stupidthoughtsinwriting · 1 year

Text

Try Again | Loki x OC

Chapter 1 - (Next Chapter) -(Chapter List) - (Main Masterlist)

Summary: Enjoying a holiday in Greece until a dreadful call changes it all...

Note: Ohhh I've posted it! okay, first of all, I am open to making a tag list to those interested, just tell me in the comments and I'll put you in. Two, this is the fastest fic i've finished and to me that's astonishing because as you may notice, most of my fics take me months to complete and in finishing this in a few nights is a feat to me. And third, understand that i am going back to class on Monday and thus i might not have as much time to update this as much but i promise i will be working on it and have patience with me. I am unreliable in consistency but I can promise results, even if the time is indefinite. The second chapter is in the works so bear with me and i hope you enjoy!

The sun rests low on the horizon, slowly dipping down amongst the waves. It turns the water a gorgeous shade of gold and the sky flies past in a flurry of bright and brilliant colours. Though as slow as the bright star sinks, it still let off a bit of heat. A welcoming warmth caressing the tanning skin of those still out, enjoying the last rays of the day before heading inside to avoid the chill night.

A child plays in the sand. Building castles of great architecture and collects shells and rocks of all forms and sizes, anything piquing his interests really. A bucket sat beside him and in it rests all his collected treasures. He uses some of the colourful shells and stones to decorate his castle, giving it colour amongst the muted tones of sand.

His mother sits not far from him, basking in the last of the heated rays before the inevitable task of packing up for the day. She watches her boy, clad only in his swim trunks, unruly obsidian curls bouncing at every movement as he fiddles and plays with his toys in the sand.

A warm yet solemn smile painted her thin lips as she watched over her young one, seeing features oh so similar to her husbands. From his ivory skin and up to his emerald eyes, their son was but a copy of his father. The spitting image save for the too few features he had of her, like the scattered bloom of freckles that decorated the bridge of his small nose and cheeks.

He also seems to have gotten mannerisms eerily similar that of his father, despite the brief and few memories he had of him in their short time. The pick at his hands and furrow that would rest on his brows whenever he was confused or sad was just so like her husbands. It brought an overwhelming need to be protect him from the dangers of the world, but she knew that as he grew, she won’t be able to protect him from everything and the best she could do was to teach him how to protect himself. But as of now, she would do just about everything to keep him safe.

Just as the sun began to descend the horizon, the boy abruptly stood up and walked over to where his mother lay beneath an umbrella, clutching tight on the offering he wished to show his mother.

‘Mama!’ he called out as he reached near her.

‘Yes, my darling?’ she replies warmly.

‘Wook at what I found mama’ he urged for her to look once he reached the tail end of her towel, plopping down on her lap, causing her to grunt at the sudden weight while he thrusts his hands to her face, the offering in question presented. She moves to sit up, the young boy still in her lap as she adjusted her position and lifts her Ray-Ban’s to her head so to properly see whatever it was he so wanted her to well, see.

In his small hands, lay a green sea stone. Big enough to dwarf the small hands of a child like his own yet still small in the eyes of others. It rests softly in her son’s palms, smooth surfaced, and tinted seafoam, she understood why it would pick at her son’s interest.

‘That is beautiful love’ she praises, earning a prideful look from the little boy, his chest puffing out as his grin stretched much like a Cheshire cat. It earned a hearty chuckle from the mother, watching her son’s actions. Joyous and confident, much like how his father was before.

‘May I?’ she asked and once a nod was returned, she plucked the stone from his hands, holding it up to the sky. She hoped that what was left of the day was enough for the light to pass through the translucent glass and it did. The stone glowed bright like the waters before them.

A look of awe shaped the boy’s face, his mouth hung open as he stared at the rock, but the mother’s gaze only strayed for a bit before turning back to her son. The look on his face made every hardship worth it and yet again, it brought another wide grin to her face.

Pressing a quick kiss to his temples, she gave the rock back to him and still, he stared at it as if it contained the hidden magic of the world. Taking the moment with his attention pre-occupied, she brushed away the sands stuck to his skin, from his face to his pale torso, she brushed away as much as she could, but the rest would have to be washed away when they get back to their room.

Speaking of which, she glanced at the sun, the sky a canvas of pinks, oranges and violets as the sun sunk down low enough and it now meant that it was time for them to pack up and head back inside.

Her gaze lingered in the horizon until a tiny voice called her back.

‘Mama’ the child called for her.

‘Yes dear?’

‘Do you think papa would wike this?’ he asked, turning her attention back to him. There had been few and brief times that his father was asked about and often this was the question asked. The other times he’d ask were always of his father’s character. Stories of the man were told and a picture of him was kept among the boy’s things as a remembrance, but it had been a long while since he’s asked of him again.

She stared at the orbs identical to her son’s fathers and she couldn’t help but think of him. His charming smile, his careful touch, his loving gaze, and intoxicating smell. She longed to be back in his once safe arms, but she couldn’t, and that truth is to be accepted.

‘Yes he would luv’ she answers. The truth was, knowing her husband, he’d love anything and everything their little boy gave him. From a messily drawn card for Father’s Day and his birthdays down to a piece of cereal the boy had been eating, the man would have been grateful for anything his boy gave him.

‘Bwilliant’ he murmurs, and she just knows he will keep it safely stashed amongst the other things he thinks his father would like. It warmed her heart to have a son so kind and giving. It made her proud that he was growing up to be as so and she just hoped her husband would be as well.

‘Alright darling, we have to go pack up now. Go get your stuff and then we can go back to the room so you can have a bath and then dinner’ she explains to the young boy, tucking away the curtain of curls that hid his face behind his ears before cupping his cheek and giving his little button nose a kiss, causing him to giggle in her hold, his face scrunching up. ‘Alright?’

‘Okay mumma’ he nodded to her command and set off to get his toys and treasures from the sand. Watching him pick up his stuff, she began to pack up as well. Tidying up the drinks and towel she had brough and place them in her bag before brushing off the bit of sand that stuck to her skin before putting on the blue summer dress atop her swimsuit for when they head back to their room.

The boy trudged back to her with a heavy bucket in hand and his kiddie camera slung around his neck. The bucket nearly overfilled with all the stones and shells he collected, along with the beach toys he used to make the castle.

Dropping it with a heavy grunt, the boy huffed and puffed at the exertion, causing his mother to stifle a laugh yet still a sound managed to escape, her hand immediately flying to muffle the sound but seeing it went unnoticed, she relaxed and dropped it.

‘A bit heavy love?’ she asks.

‘A wot heavy’ he says, emphasizing the word like a true drama king. Wonder who he got that from?

‘Alright. Now, do you want to wear a shirt before we go back?’ she asks, offering him the top he wore earlier.

‘No tank you’ he declines, shaking his head.

‘Alrighty then’ she puts his shirt back in the bag before slinging it on her left shoulder and picking up the castle shaped bucket (which did weigh a lot, no wonder her son was left panting) with her left hand. Her right: out in offering for the young boy to hold as they slowly walked back to their hotel.

‘Did you have fun today?’ the mother asked as the walked along the beach.

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ he shouted in enthusiasm, jumping up and down. The mother could only smile at the boy’s joyous behaviour, glad that she could give him fun memories to look back on.

The rest of their walk was filled with conversation about what the new thing’s he discovered about the sea life, the castle he so artistically constructed and the promise of coming back here another day and by the time they reached the lobby of the resort, the mother could see how the exhaustion of the day was taking a toll on her little boy.

‘Ahh, Miss Ackland’ Mr Birch, the evening manager greeted from behind the reception ‘good day I presume?’ he questions, noting how tuckered out her normally energetic son was started to sag against her. With a brief glance to the boy and a small chuckle, she nodded.

‘Yes, it was good day. Especially for this one’ she replies, rubbing a thumb over the hand in her grasp, hoping to at least rouse the child until he’s eaten dinner.

The man chuckles a bit, seeing how unresponsive the boy is to her attempts. ‘My, the young tyke seems real knackered.’ he comments with an accent much like her own yet the way the words flow so smoothly would have anyone wrapped in a trance,

‘Yes well, all day out in the beach seems to do that’ she responds politely.

‘Well, best not keep you from your young one and leave you to it. Have a nice evening miss.’ he bids her well off with a gentle smile that would leave any woman with a common-sense to a puddle, yet she has her immunity, and she powered through with it.

‘Actually, would you mind sending some food to our room in 15, 20 minutes? We haven’t had the chance to get some dinner and I’m hoping to feed at least a little into him before he’s off for the night.’ She requests of the manager, really wishing to at least have her boy a few bites before going dead to the world.

‘Certainly miss.’ He dutily responds, already picking up a phone to call the kitchen ‘Just the usual ma’am?’ he asks of the meal, turning to her with the phone to his ear.

‘Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you Mr. Birch’ she says with a kind grin, faintly hearing his conversation as mother and son walked away.

‘Yes, to the Amphitrite suite in fifteen minutes… Thank you’.

---

Once the pair arrived back to their room, the sun had finally set, casting a now dark canvas, littered with twinkling stars, though it went unnoticed to the weary boy who had let go of his mothers’ hand as soon as they entered and dropped with a thud on the chalk white cushions once he was near enough while his mother, Ms. Ackland, relieved herself of the heavy weight she had been trudging since the beach.

‘Leo’ she called to the boy softly, opting to not chastise the young one when he was already weary. ‘Come on darling. Quick bath and some dinner then off to bed, sleepy head’

‘But I’m not sleepy’ he whined, an indicator of his true predicament, even as he refuses.

‘Well, a quick wash and some supper then’ she bargained even though she knew he’d out like a light by halfway through dinner and when she received no response, she added ‘and we’ll also wash up the shells and rocks you collected, and you can sort through them after.’ And with that, his head shot up, his curls bobbing as he ran (well more speed walk than run) with what energy he had left to her side, awaiting for her instructions and wanting to get his bucket of treasures so he could wash them.

With the young one finally clean and sand free, dressed in his favourite dark blue pyjamas, they set off to the sitting room portion of the suite, just in time for room service to arrive with their supper. Since Leo had his attention to his rocks and shells (fully washed and draining on a colander borrowed from the hotel), his mother was the one that had gone to get the food, still wearing her blue summer dress since there wasn’t enough time for her to get cleaned herself but she planned on doing so after her little boy had gone to bed.

She thanked the room service and closed the door of the suite before fixing up the plate of food and brought it to where little Leo was pre-occupied, seemingly sorting the rocks by colour and size on the towel laid out before him while he let the shells dry out in the colander a little bit longer. She sat beside him, setting the plate a good distance away from his work area and began to feed her little man.

The rest of that time had been quiet, save for the thud of rocks on the whitewashed coffee table and the occasional murmur to open his mouth so the mother could feed him bites of the pork Souvlaki. In between bites, she’d offer her opinion, helping out a bit on his activity but not once has he said anything. Only responding in nods and a shake of his head, another symptom of his fatigue and true to her word, with the plate half cleared, she noticed the lack of hands working through the rocks and a weight leaning on her. Turning her head, she found the boy sound asleep, a rock he had been looking at still in his grasp but the lack of movement and the slow and steady breaths he let out was enough for her to know.

Pushing the plate aside, she carded a hand through his curls, making him curl up more beside her and all that did was take her back to when it was her husband that did the same thing. Head on her lap, she would comb through his raven locks and all that would do was press a face farther onto her stomach, arms wrapping around her waist so he could pull her closer.

This was most endearing when she has pregnant. Her beloved would whisper to her belly in a hushed tone. Her hand, as always, in his head of hair and when her nails would start to scratch at his scalp, a content sigh always left him before he burrowed in the warm mass of her stomach.

Thinking back, those were near the last good moments she had of just the two of them. A loving husband, doting and caring to his beloved wife as the two prepared the arrival of their little one. So cheery and full of life, once was he and now all she could help but do is miss those moments, let alone the man he was back then.

After a small while, the mother took the boy in her arms and having done this so many times before, it was an instant that the boy instinctively wraps himself in his mothers’ hold, arms circling her neck, legs locking behind her as he laid his little head to her chest, right over where her heart beat a rhythm that often lulled him to sleep. She planted a kiss at the top of his head, right on his unruly curls at she took him to the bedroom.

Laying him down in the middle of the queen-sized bed, she laid with him for a bit to make sure he would no longer stir before carefully untangling herself from his hold. She propped some of the pillows beside him, just to make sure he wouldn’t move to far to edge and fall and covered him with his blankie before deciding it was enough and she left the room, shutting the door quietly.

Taking a survey of the suite, she figured on tidying up and finishing what was left of supper before taking a shower herself, wanting to be rid of the day’s clothes and into her own pyjamas while she indulged on some wine in the balcony.

Nearly giddy at the thought, she set off in doing so and half an hour later, she emerges from the ensuite in fresh clothes, warmed somewhat by a thin green cardigan she put over.

The mother then set off to the kitchenette where a good bottle of wine chilled in the mini fridge. Now without any distractions or hesitation, she took a wine glass the concierge so kindly provided, and poured herself a hearty amount, tasting the aged, fermented juice and relishing at the thought of getting lost from her head for a few hours after a glass or two.

With the glass near empty, it was then that she remembered that she hasn’t even touched her phone nearly the whole day and seeing it sat on the counter, with a quick reach, she had it in her hand. She wasn’t surprised of the lack of notifications, so she set it down and finished the last of her glass’s contents. What did surprise her though was the call that connected a minute later, the familiar name on the ID catching her unexpectedly.

She answered the call before it dropped, wanting to hear from the man after a while of no contact.

‘Thor’ she starts, putting the phone to her ear as she poured herself another glass. ‘Long time’

‘Yeah, um. It has, hasn’t it?’ his deep voice grumbles through the phone’s speaker.

‘Five months to be exact’ she clarifies, bringing the glass to her lips and takes a sip.

‘Sorry, it’s just…’ he started to explain himself, but she cuts him off.

‘No. Don’t, don’t do that. Don’t say that. I could have called but I didn’t, and I am as much to blame’ she clarifies, regretting making the comment when she didn’t want to take apologies when she was just as much at fault as he was.

‘Right, alright. Um, where’s little Leo?’ he asks, diverting the conversation to the boy so to get out of that uncomfortable subject.

‘Ohh, he’s already in bed. Sorry. Had a long day’.

‘Wow, that early. It’s just a little before nine. Usually, he’d still be very active. Well from what I can remember that is.’ The blond man chuckles, remembering the nights he’d spend with the very energetic child.

‘Actually, it’s about ten before 11 here.’

‘Her- Wudduya mean here? Aren’t you in town?’ the man asks, clearly very confused and he sounds it and that is her fault.

‘Ohh, were in Santorini on holiday. Sorry, I haven’t informed anyone really and I would have you but-’ you haven’t called, and I couldn’t make the call myself the last bit went unsaid but the both of them knew.

‘Oh, okay. Alright.’ He pauses for a while, leaving a pregnant silence to fill until he did. ‘Well, is it good there?’

‘Very’ she responds immediately, uncomfortable by that gap. ‘it’s beautiful. The water, the architecture, the culture, the people, it’s absolutely wonderful.’ She describes, looking to the balcony where there was a perfect view of the sea. ‘Leo’s enjoying himself too. Playing in the beach all day, making sandcastles and he collects shells and rocks that take his interest and earlier he went about to sorting them, but the little man fell asleep halfway into dinner. Too worn out from the day to even finish his sorting.’ She giggles a bit, remembering how the little boy looked all curled up beside her.

‘Seems like you’re having a good time.’ The man responds, a bit despondent but she didn’t hear that.

‘We are.’ She says with a bit of pride ‘we are’ she repeats though this time she’s uncertain and dejected because a part of her is guilty. For actually having a good time and without the man she loves. And another part.. just wants him. To be here with them. To enjoy this with them but, we can’t have all we want now can we.

She faintly heard someone talking, someone angry and that was followed by the sound of the phone shuffling before she heard Thor again.

‘Sorry Em, could you hold for a minute?’ he requests, and she answers back yes but before she could ask anymore, he mutes.

She put the phone on speaker and set it down, taking a gulp of her wine and as promised, after a minute, he came and called her back.

‘I’m back. You still there?’

‘Yah’ she manages before swallowing her drink ‘still here. Everything alright?’ she asks, wondering who it was that was so angry (though she should have known).

‘Yeah. Everything’s just fine’ he replies, sounding out breath.

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, absolutely. Terrific’ he says with far too much cheer, it annoyed her enough to know it was fake.

‘Thor.’ She says firmly, setting her glass down the marble counter ‘What’s going on?’ she demands sternly, using the voice she rarely would use to chastise Leo with when on bad behaviour, not wanting some half-arsed answer.

Again, a long of silence stretched on until with a heavy sigh, he began.

‘He’s in hospital again.’ He confesses and she shakes her head, knowing well who he meant. Irritated was she, evidently enough to pick up her glass and divide its contents into half.

‘He’s always in hospital’ she replies after swallowing, swirling the liquid around the glass and she watches in fascination, wanting to get her head from what he just said.

‘No. This is different.’ He presses, knowing the times he’s said this before were for minor and abrasive accounts.

‘What do you mean?’ she pesters, her voice now wobbly as a burst of possibilities swirled in her head.

‘He um- ‘he stops himself, swallowing the hard pill because knowing her, telling her this would only tear her apart. ‘He rang me earlier.’ That enough was a giveaway that something was wrong, the severity was the only missing piece. ‘He was in pain, and he could barely let out anything before he dropped the phone and groaned in agony.’ Her breathing hitched then, tears welling her eyes while her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I got to him as soon as I could, and when I found him, he was on the floor, in pain’ He hated repeating that but all he could do was relay the accounts of what happened as it was still all so fresh and hope he could filter it as much as possible. ‘I called for an ambulance and tried to get him to tell me what was happening, but he couldn’t even respond’ he chokes, remembering the sight and it flashes before his eyes, as if he was reliving the whole painful ordeal again.

Emma on the other hand, had tears quietly running her cheeks, hand still tightly clasped to her mouth for fear she would let out a sob that would not only alert Thor but Leo as well. Her mind ran rampant, creating images and images of her pained husband, lying helplessly in pain on the floor, asking for help to no one because of his solitude. Not knowing if he there was anyone coming at all.

Guilt held a tighter grip on her breaking heart as her mind convinced herself that it was her fault that he was alone. She should have been there. She shouldn’t have left. She should have taken care of him and maybe he wouldn’t be where he was if it she had just stayed and cared for him. But she didn’t and she wasn’t there when he was helplessly lying on the ground, wondering if the last thing he’d see was the dirt and bottles that undoubtedly littered the floors around him instead of his beloved wife and darling son.

She swallowed back the sob itching to escape her lips, desperate on not making a sound.

Her mind was taking a turn in the labyrinth it already was, taking her to unknown ends of painful scenarios her unyielding mind procures when she still doesn’t have the pieces to the whole story.

A creep of silence then went on for the benefit of both. Time for them to compose themselves before the once boisterous man continued.

‘The ambulance-’ he begins once more, though demurely ‘-arrived quickly. And they took him to the hospital immediately, seeing the state he was. Even the doctors didn’t know what was happening to him, but they gave him morphine for the pain.’ He somewhat assures and it relieves her a bit knowing he wasn’t in pain anymore. ‘They let him rest for a bit before they took him for tests. He’s resting now though. They’re keeping him for the night under observation but there was talk that the stay might be indefinite until they figured out what was wrong. Just in case another attack happened but you know him’ he teases lightly, not wanting to drown in the dampening mood this whole conversation, hell this whole ordeal has taken and neither did she so, she appreciates the lightening.

And she also knew what he meant. Her husband hated hospitals. Even stepping one foot inside churned his insides enough and being a patient? We’ll she knew enough to give her an idea of what happened.

It didn’t help her to think of his reaction to being told that he had to stay the night. Scared as he might have already been, the prospect of staying even longer undoubtedly terrified him and thus she concluded that he refused the longer stay.

Thinking of it, the only time he was at some sort of ease while in the hospital was when they took baby Leo for his newborn check up and even then he was anxious. The check-up had been a necessary. Just to assure the new parents that their little one was alright and properly checked on since a homebirth lacked that formality. The man himself had been the one to insist on the homebirth and Emma didn’t object to that, wanting to give the man a sort of peace as they brought their child to the world. His fears only eased once the doctor told them that everything is just as it should be about their newborn and there and only then did he relax as he rejoice on the fact that they had a health baby boy.

That clued her enough of his fear of hospitals and that information didn’t help her at all now.

‘The doctors are coming back in the morning for the results but after that, he insists on leaving’ he continuous to inform her, wary of her lack of response.

She hasn’t said anything since the start of his recount. Not a sound could be heard from her end of the line, and it unnerve him, making him check to see if the call was still on and it was. It took him a few good minutes, but he deduced why she was so silent.

He knew his sister well and the things he’s regaled to her… he just knew it was breaking her being apart.

‘Emma’ he called out, wanting to be sure he was still taking to someone. ‘you still there?’

‘yah’ she muttered, barely audible but he heard.

She had sunken to the floor, leaning against the counters as she pulled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she silently cried. Her phone still sat atop the island, her call with her brother-in-law still ongoing yet there she was, listening, tears running her cheeks as she listened to him describe the torment her beloved endured.

‘He needs you now’ the man murmurs, pleading for his brother’s sake that she come back. He knew his little brother wouldn’t take it if these pains continued on and he feared the day he would give up. And without the person he loves most, the person that had been his solace long before, his rock and home, he is terrified of that end coming too soon.

The woman could only swallow at the man’s words before clamping a hand on her mouth and burying her head to her knees as an unrelenting sob escapes her. She had no control of it and the others that followed but she did have control of how loud they would come to so she did her best to make as little sound as she possibly could.

Try as she did though, Thor heard her. Muffled as it was, he knew that sound better than he liked to admit and not once did his heart break not break for her every time.

‘just… please come back’ he begs her once more, intending to end the call and leave her to some privacy. He stays on for a bit longer and just as he was about to press the end button, she called out to him, saying his name in an unsteady voice, congested and clear that she had been crying.

Two days she wanted to say. Give her two days and she would do everything she could to be there as soon as possible but what left her mouth wasn’t so. ‘Take care of him for me’ she pleads her own, on the brink of another fit of sobs but she held on till the call ended.

‘Always’ he responds before ending the call and with that her resolve crumbles.

Once again, her hand flies to cover her mouth, going in to cover and muffle the onslaught of sobs she had no hope of controlling but… they never came. Whether it was for some preservation for Leo’s deep sleep or her sudden inability to, they never come. What took its place though was a rush of tears and a heavy heart.

Leaning back on the limewashed cupboards, she let her tears run and her heart sink for she thought she deserved it. The guilt eating at her from the inside. Churning her stomach to knots and crushing her heart to shreds. It manipulated her. Turning her to the villain at the heart of this mess when she had done nothing but protect herself and her son from the tragedy that was once a happy family.

Her mind was a cruel and fickle thing. Making her believe the lies it comes up with and without the one person who knew how to lead her out of the labyrinth, she was lost. Facing every new dreaded possibility at every dead end without escape or clue on how to get out because the person that always led her to the exit, became the reason she was lost and missed it.

She didn’t blame him though. Despite what the others do, not once did she blame the poor tortured soul of her husbands’ because how could she. She could have helped him and stayed by him, just as she vowed but breaking that promise lost her the right to blame, not that she would.

In sickness and in health… clearly she didn’t hold her promise on that.

She drew her knees back to her chest, letting her heart wrench while a hand rose to reach for the bottle of wine that still sat on the bench. Once she got that down, Emma took a big swig right out of the bottle, never minding the glass she used before. Her only goal. To suffer and hope she’d be numb enough to stop the tears from flowing.

And that’s how she spent the rest of the night. Sat on the kitchenette floor of her suite, back against the cupboards as she let her tears dry out while burning a bottles’ worth of wine through her liver, letting her guilt and sorrow drape over her as it would a child under a tablecloth on Halloween.

(Next Chapter) -(Chapter List) - (Main Masterlist)

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mayaswiterblog · 3 months

Text

SKIN (2024)

This is a short horror story.

Word count: 1,780

Warning: body horror, body & social insecurities (pls let me know if I missed any triggers that I should add!)

Scene 1: Morning Bathroom

A 14-year-old girl is staring at the mirror in her bathroom. Her skin looks wrinkly, and her eyes look horribly drowsy as if she never had slept in her entire life. The eyelids drooped over her eyes and the corners of her mouth also showed signs of saggy skin.

The girl reached towards her face and pressed at her cheek, moving the skin around and seeing how wrinkles increased on one side and decreased on the other. Her nails also looked brittle and needed care.

The teenager sighed deeply as she dropped her arm to her side, swinging lightly.

“This skin needs regular care, I need to maintain it every morning,” thought the girl as she reached for her skincare lotions and creams. It was a routine for her; the moment she wakes up and takes a sip of water, the next thing she does after getting up from bed is not brushing her teeth or her hair, or changing her clothes, but to take care of her skin first and foremost.

This morning though she changed her clothes first before taking care of her skin, an act she regretted later and had to pull her shirt and long skirt up to better reach her skin. Looks like that day was not her day. She even forgot to put on her contact lenses.

After thoroughly cleaning, washing and applying lotions on her skin, she gave a good smack on her now puffy cheeks. Her cheeks and lips looked more plum and had a rosy tint, her eyes were open and clear like glass, and the skin on her body was firmer and had a nice healthy glow. The girl smiled at herself in the mirror, tilting her face to the side while her palms were still pressed on her cheeks, spreading the fingers.

“Hmm, who knew that taking care of your appearance can be this rewarding? To get along with people you have to look appealing and not... gross...” the teenager said out loud first in girlish cheer but then her voice trailed into sadness. Her skin was special and required a lot of care than other people, and the thought of being avoided and even bullied because of her wrinkly skin made her a tad depressed.

Then she shook her head by literally shaking it from side to side followed by slapping her cheeks several times. She psyched herself up and stomped her feet, it was her own ritual to motivate herself in the mornings. Now she took care of her nails, she already brushed her hair and teeth, and then she’d have her breakfast.

Scene 2: School

The girl was sitting at her desk and propping her head with her hand, daydreaming and mentally preparing for the class. Some of her classmates approached her and greeted her, having a light chat with smiles. The girl enjoyed this kind of interaction, she wasn’t ready for more meaningful relationships at the moment but soon she was thinking of going out more and experiencing life more bravely. She won’t let her skin stop her from living a life like a proper human being, to be happy.

As the group of her classmates left for their desks, one of the friends stayed and leaned on the girl’s desk, pressing her cheek on her folder armed that she placed on the desk, looking at her with a wide and pleasant smile.

“Your eyes look different today, Kaleah,” she then made a small gesture by extending her index finger from under her chin, pointing at the girl. Kaleah, the girl, winced at the remark and made a sharp inhale. She blinked several times and then made an apologetic expression, scratching her cheek sheepishly. Her friend grinned even more at the reaction and then waved at her reassuringly, she won’t tell anyone about it.

“I... I seem to forget... to wear my lenses...” the embarrassed girl tried to explain, to which her classmate laughed but immediately suppressed it with her palm.

“Do you mean to tell me that you usually wear coloured contact lenses? Oh my GOD, Leah! You’re a rebel!” now her friend almost guffawed but managed to cackle instead to have mercy on her friend. Kaleah began blushing and shook her classmate’s shoulder to take this more seriously and stop making a scene.

“Mikala! Please... c-cut it out...” the girl pleaded with a hushed voice. She’s clearly not used to attracting attention, be it good or bad.

“Okay, okay!” Mikala, her classmate and friend, wiped her tear from the corner of her eye while waving at her friend, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry... I just couldn’t help but to think that you’re a sleeper, a shy rebel... ha-ha!” then she cleared her throat and added with more neutral tone, to show care towards her friend, “but it’s kinda strange how simple contact lenses can affect your eye colours, yours are usually dark brown but now they look as clear as ocean water! Who knew such small things could make such a big difference,” now Mikala was pondering in a pose of a thinking statue.

During the class, Kaleah tried to avoid direct eye contact and even read a book to the class by placing it directly in front of her nose. Some classmates giggled at her theatrics, but the teacher didn’t mind, which was a major relief to our poor girl.

When the class ended, Kaleah immediately went to the bathroom to check her eyes. How did she miss that in the morning? Maybe she was so focused on making sure her skin was looking good that she forgot about everything else on her body? Compared to her skin, everything else was so minor that she forgot to pay attention.

Kaleah sighed at her reflection in the girl’s bathroom. Her eyes did indeed look like a pair of glasses of water. It won’t be surprising if teachers asked questions but so far no one but her friend Mikala noticed.

The girl straightened her back and gathered her resolve; she will make sure to behave normally and slyly avoid direct eye contact. It shouldn’t be hard since she knew that she was known for her shy character. It should go well.

But then one thought crossed her mind:

“I should have told her that I put on the wrong contact lenses instead”

As soon as she realised that fact, she facepalmed and her face winced in frustration and pain. Now Mikala knows her real eye colour...

But at least now she had a good excuse for her extraordinary eye colour.

Scene 3: Afternoon Homecoming

Finally reaching home, Kaleah sighed deeply with great relief.

No more presenting herself to people so she could live a normal life, no more light make-up to make her skin look livelier, and no more stress. But despite all that, she liked how she looked, and she liked chatting with people, just in moderation.

“Finally... Home, sweet home, I can shed my skin off again,” her face bore an odd expression, she was happy, but that joy seemed unnatural to a human mind. Her eyes glowed with extraordinary bliss and her coy smile curled up with more vigour.

Kaleah turned her front door lights on, they were old and dimmed but it was enough for her to see. In fact, she didn’t need much light, but she did it for practice.

She slowly moved towards her bathroom, as if consciously moving her legs one by one and swaying her upper body from side to side in a mesmerizing way. Once she reached her bathroom, Kaleah casually gazed at her myriad of skincare items.

Lotions were potions, powders were flours, creams and moisturizers were ointments, and everything smelled nice and enchanting.

Kaleah outstretched her left arm and admired it, she eyed her upper arm, then the nook of her elbow, then the wrist and finally the fingertips. She wiggled her fingers just slightly to get a better feel of it.

Then the skin on her fingertips started to peel off and curled like banana peels, carefully as if cut by a first-class chef. Her skin peeled to her elbows, and they flapped down like fringed sleeves. The same happened to her legs, stopping by her knees.

The skin around her chest also started to peel off, dividing from the middle and opening like a jumper with a zipper, from top down. The peeling skin stopped by her hips and hung down like a skirt. The same thing happened on her face, the incision was in the middle of her face and the skin peeled down to her collarbone and now it looked like a fancy flesh collar.

Beneath all that skin was another skin that was a colour of dark night with blue hues. Her nails... sorry, you can’t even call them nails; her dangerously red and crooked claws were long and sharp.

And “Kaleah’s” shedding didn’t just stop there. Her eyes were also peeling as if her eyeballs had several layers and they opened one by one like eyelids. Beneath the third layer were hiding blood-red eyes with blue-like clear water irises, and two pupils were in the shape of four-pointed stars.

As her transformation finished, she let out a satisfied sigh, thus revealing her sharp teeth, toxic blue tongue and the insides of her mouth looked like fuchsia.

“It’s been almost two months, and no one suspected me even a tiny bit, which is a relief,” the creature mulled aloud while toying with her snack, a dead rat. The rat wasn’t just found dead randomly, “Kaleah” hunted it and dried it to eat as a snack. She wasn’t fussy about food, but she loved flesh, especially dried and seasoned.

After examining her snack and playfully twirling it around her claws, she popped the dead animal into her toothy mouth. For a second it looked like she grew an extra row of teeth. “Kaleah” took her time to savour her snack with a satisfying hum.

“One day,” she turned her upper body to face the poster that hung next to the bed, her eyes glowed with intent, “I will find my own Lilo,” and then she clawed at the wall, next to the face of a girl in the poster, slowly drawing down with creaky noise.

As soon as the claws reached the edge of the bed, the creature spun to face the front door, directly at you, reader, and then she sat on her bed without the help of her arms.

“Kaleah” was casually looking towards your way, reader, hugging her knee with her one arm, eyes glowing red like warning lights.

Could you be what she is seeking?

#body horror #horror #horror story #horror writing #short story #creative writing #writing #writeblr #writer stuff #writers #queer writers #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #tw body horror #tw horror #tw skin #tw social anxiety

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divinekangaroo · 3 months

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What is the no makeup skincare routine of Alicia Keys?

So, after much erosion of time and memory, these are the parts I kept (with equivalent products):

Avene Eau Thermale Thermal Spring Water spray (keep in fridge, spray) (highly highly recommend. transforming. if nothing else this product changed me. I genuinely Do Not Understand Why but I try not to question it.)

Jade roller (keep in fridge) and add Vitamin C serum with caffeine (couple drops over roller, roll over face) -> the oil I get? but personally I think the jade roller thing is bullshit. Nevertheless, what it *makes* me do is a ritualistic ~paying attention~ to all parts of my face when otherwise I would just blob, swipe, go. And so it works because the roller means I moisturise every part equally instead of just putting a blob of oil on a cheekbone and walking away with a shiny nose and dry spots on the cheeks

Moisturiser base - Alicia's makeup artist's recommended one (a suncream) stopped being made a few years ago, the equivalent I found which gives same results (but not suncream) is Moo Goo's Natural Fast Hydrating Lotion, which has the benefit of also being a full body moisturiser so, less product on shelf = always a win

Add a tiny bit of primer or foundation to the moisturiser base, mix on hand before spreading on face. Again, Alicia's primer not available any more, the equivalents I found is 1) La Roche Posay Effaclar Duo, or 2) my current preferred-> Primp and Prime from The Organic Skin Company

Exfoliate lips once a week, brown sugar

Some mask thing once a week (I used to bother, no more, vague memories of it, no material difference)

A La Roche-Posay lip balm which I tried to google and found it was just discontinued? SOB (literally the only lip balm I have found in my entire life that delivers lastingly non-dry lips. I have this in bulk in my wardrobe. My lips crack to the bleeding. I've had friends say, "oh, but dry bleeding lips are just your aesthetic?" This stopped once I found this product. I can actually wear lipstick if I want without the colour leaching into the cracks like those cracked desert terrain images)

Do peripheral details because they will stand out:

-Do eyebrows once a week, tidy stray hairs

-Do hairline once a week (depends on ethnicity/hairline, mine does filter down into the face-space)

-Use eyelash curler

and lastly, the "no makeup" bit I did have to laugh at and I don't do:

Actually *wear* makeup for the red carpet, comprising tinted primer, mascara, tiny bit of eyeliner, light eyebrow pencil shaping, transculent shiny stuff rubbed on cheekbones, and a very carefully selected concealer for the under eye bags and general real world pigmentation which exists on all skin

The only thing I've added based on other reading, which I also attribute to the aggregate contributing of fixing my previous 25 years plus of weekly skin problems and pimples:

Shave my face once a week using the Avene spray as my shaving 'liquid'. Chin, cheeks, moustache, around eyebrows, monobrow, hairline, all of it. Unspeakably good results. Tiny small facial razor. Razor goes over each piece of skin exactly once, slowly, and use a very very sharp razor so there is no repeated strokes.

(The Avene spray, jade roller + serum, and the strategy of adding teh primer/foundation to the moisturiser to thin it out/improve spread were the true original items IIRC; the rest have adapted over time.)

#proviso: my skin is deeply olive.sallow.sensitive.dry #i have hypermobility which also does strange things to skin elasticity and reactiveness #and in descending order of origin: mediterranean + middle eastern/eastern european (borders keep moving) + splash of german scottish englis #in australia the land of sunburns

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the-chronicle-of-holy-days · 6 months

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Day 17

Liber LXV Liber Cordis Cincti Serpente

Ah! my Lord Adonai, that dalliest with the Magister in the Treasure-House of Pearls, let me listen to the echo of your kisses.

Is not the starry heaven shaken as a leaf at the tremulous rapture of your love? Am not I the flying spark of light whirled away by the great wind of your perfection?

Yea, cried the Holy One, and from Thy spark will I the Lord kindle a great light; I will burn through the great city in the old and desolate land; I will cleanse it from its great impurity.

And thou, O prophet, shalt see these things, and thou shalt heed them not.

Now is the Pillar established in the Void; now is Asi fulfilled of Asar; now is Hoor let down into the Animal Soul of Things like a fiery star that falleth upon the darkness of the earth.

Through the midnight thou art dropt, O my child, my conqueror, my sword-girt captain, O Hoor! and they shall find thee as a black gnarl'd glittering stone, and they shall worship thee.

My prophet shall prophesy concerning thee; around thee the maidens shall dance, and bright babes be born unto them. Thou shalt inspire the proud ones with infinite pride, and the humble ones with an ecstasy of abasement; all this shall transcend the Known and the Unknown with somewhat that hath no name. For it is as the abyss of the Arcanum that is opened in the secret Place of Silence.

Thou hast come hither, O my prophet, through grave paths. Thou hast eaten of the dung of the Abominable Ones; thou hast prostrated thyself before the Goat and the Crocodile; the evil men have made thee a plaything; thou hast wandered as a painted harlot, ravishing with sweet scent and Chinese colouring, in the streets; thou hast darkened thine eyepits with Kohl; thou hast tinted thy lips with vermilion; thou hast plastered thy cheeks with ivory enamels. Thou hast played the wanton in every gate and by-way of the great city. The men of the city have lusted after thee to abuse thee and to beat thee. They have mouthed the golden spangles of fine dust wherewith thou didst bedeck thine hair; they have scourged the painted flesh of thee with their whips; thou hast suffered unspeakable things.

But I have burnt within thee as a pure flame without oil. In the midnight I was brighter than the moon; in the daytime I exceeded utterly the sun; in the byways of thy being I inflamed, and dispelled the illusion.

Therefore thou art wholly pure before Me; therefore thou art My virgin unto eternity.

Therefore I love thee with surpassing love; therefore they that despise thee shall adore thee.

Thou shalt be lovely and pitiful toward them; thou shalt heal them of the unutterable evil.

They shall change in their destruction, even as two dark stars that crash together in the abyss, and blaze up in an infinite burning.

All this while did Adonai pierce my being with his sword that hath four blades; the blade of the thunderbolt, the blade of the Pylon, the blade of the serpent, the blade of the Phallus.

Also he taught me the holy unutterable word Ararita, so that I melted the sixfold gold into a single invisible point, whereof naught may be spoken.

For the Magistry of this Opus is a secret magistry; and the sign of the master thereof is a certain ring of lapis-lazuli with the name of my master, who am I, and the Eye in the Midst thereof.

Also He spake and said: This is a secret sign, and thou shalt not disclose it unto the profane, nor unto the neophyte, nor unto the zelator, nor unto the practicus, nor unto the philosophus, nor unto the lesser adept, nor unto the greater adept.

But unto the exempt adept thou shalt disclose thyself if thou have need of him for the lesser operations of thine art.

Accept the worship of the foolish people, whom thou hatest. The Fire is not defiled by the altars of the Ghebers, nor is the Moon contaminated by the incense of them that adore the Queen of Night.

Thou shalt dwell among the people as a precious diamond among cloudy diamonds, and crystals, and pieces of glass. Only the eye of the just merchant shall behold thee, and plunging in his hand shall single thee out and glorify thee before men.

But thou shalt heed none of this. Thou shalt be ever the heart, and I the serpent will coil close about thee. My coil shall never relax throughout the æons. Neither change nor sorrow nor unsubstantiality shall have thee; for thou art passed beyond all these.

Even as the diamond shall glow red for the rose, and green for the rose-leaf; so shalt thou abide apart from the Impressions.

I am thou, and the Pillar is ’stablished in the void.

Also thou art beyond the stabilities of Being and of Consciousness and of Bliss; for I am thou, and the Pillar is ’stablished in the void.

Also thou shalt discourse of these things unto the man that writeth them, and he shall partake of them as a sacrament; for I who am thou am he, and the Pillar is ’stablished in the void.

From the Crown to the Abyss, so goeth it single and erect. Also the limitless sphere shall glow with the brilliance thereof.

Thou shalt rejoice in the pools of adorable water; thou shalt bedeck thy damsels with pearls of fecundity; thou shalt light flame like licking tongues of liquor of the Gods between the pools.

Also thou shalt convert the all-sweeping air into the winds of pale water, thou shalt transmute the earth into a blue abyss of wine.

Ruddy are the gleams of ruby and gold that sparkle therein; one drop shall intoxicate the Lord of the Gods my servant.

Also Adonai spake unto V.V.V.V.V. saying: O my little one, my tender one, my little amorous one, my gazelle, my beautiful, my boy, let us fill up the pillar of the Infinite with an infinite kiss!

So that the stable was shaken and the unstable became still.

They that beheld it cried with a formidable affright: The end of things is come upon us.

And it was even so.

Also I was in the spirit vision and beheld a parricidal pomp of atheists, coupled by two and by two in the supernal ecstasy of the stars. They did laugh and rejoice exceedingly, being clad in purple robes and drunken with purple wine, and their whole soul was one purple flower-flame of holiness.

They beheld not God; they beheld not the Image of God; therefore were they arisen to the Palace of the Splendour Ineffable. A sharp sword smote out before them, and the worm Hope writhed in its death-agony under their feet.

Even as their rapture shore asunder the visible Hope, so also the Fear Invisible fled away and was no more.

O ye that are beyond Aormuzdi and Ahrimanes! blessèd are ye unto the ages.

They shaped Doubt as a sickle, and reaped the flowers of Faith for their garlands.

They shaped Ecstasy as a spear, and pierced the ancient dragon that sat upon the stagnant water.

Then the fresh springs were unloosed, that the folk athirst might be at ease.

And again I was caught up into the presence of my Lord Adonai, and the knowledge and Conversation of the Holy One, the Angel that Guardeth me.

O Holy Exalted One, O Self beyond self. O Self-Luminous Image of the Unimaginable Naught, O my darling, my beautiful, come Thou forth and follow me.

Adonai, divine Adonai, let Adonai initiate refulgent dalliance! Thus I concealed the name of Her name that inspireth my rapture, the scent of whose body bewildereth the soul, the light of whose soul abaseth this body unto the beasts.

I have sucked out the blood with my lips; I have drained Her beauty of its sustenance; I have abased Her before me, I have mastered Her, I have possessed Her, and Her life is within me. In Her blood I inscribe the secret riddles of the Sphinx of the Gods, that none shall understand,—save only the pure and voluptuous, obscene, the androgyne and the gynander that have passed beyond the bars of the prison that the old Slime of Khem set up in the Gates of Amennti.

O my adorable, my delicious one, all night will I pour out the libation on Thine altars; all night will I burn the sacrifice of blood; all night will I swing the thurible of my delight before Thee, and the fervour of the orisons shall intoxicate Thy nostrils.

O Thou who camest from the land of the Elephant, girt about with the tiger’s pell, and garlanded with the lotus of the spirit, do Thou inebriate my life with Thy madness, that She leap at my passing.

Bid Thy maidens who follow Thee bestrew us a bed of flowers immortal, that we may take our pleasure thereupon. Bid Thy satyrs heap thorns among the flowers, that we may take our pain thereupon. Let the pleasure and pain be mingled in one supreme offering unto the Lord Adonai!

Also I heard the voice of Adonai the Lord the desirable one concerning that which is beyond.

Let not the dwellers in Thebai and the temples thereof prate ever of the Pillars of Hercules and the Ocean of the West. Is not the Nile a beautiful water?

Let not the priest of Isis uncover the nakedness of Nuit, for every step is a death and a birth. The priest of Isis lifted the veil of Isis, and was slain by the kisses of her mouth. Then was he the priest of Nuit, and drank of the milk of the stars.

Let not the failure and the pain turn aside the worshippers. The foundations of the pyramid were hewn in the living rock ere sunset; did the king weep at dawn that the crown of the pyramid was yet unquarried in the distant land?

There was also an humming-bird that spake unto the horned cerastes, and prayed him for poison. And the great snake of Khem the Holy One, the royal Uræus serpent, answered him and said:

I sailed over the sky of Nu in the car called Millions-of-Years, and I saw not any creature upon Seb that was equal to me. The venom of my fang is the inheritance of my father, and of my father's father; and how shall I give it unto thee? Live thou and thy children as I and my fathers have lived, even unto an hundred millions of generations, and it may be that the mercy of the Mighty Ones may bestow upon thy children a drop of the poison of eld.

Then the humming-bird was afflicted in his spirit, and he flew unto the flowers, and it was as if naught had been spoken between them. Yet in a little while a serpent struck him that he died.

But an Ibis that meditated upon the bank of Nile the beautiful god listened and heard. And he laid aside his Ibis ways, and became as a serpent, saying Peradventure in an hundred millions of millions of generations of my children, they shall attain to a drop of the poison of the fang of the Exalted One.

And behold! ere the moon waxed thrice he became an Uræus serpent, and the poison of the fang was established in him and his seed even for ever and for ever.

O thou Serpent Apep, my Lord Adonai, it is a speck of minutest time, this travelling through eternity, and in Thy sight the landmarks are of fair white marble untouched by the tool of the graver. Therefore Thou art mine, even now and for ever and for everlasting. Amen.

Moreover, I heard the voice of Adonai: Seal up the book of the Heart and the Serpent; in the number five and sixty seal thou the holy book.

As fine gold that is beaten into a diadem for the fair queen of Pharaoh, as great stones that are cemented together into the Pyramid of the ceremony of the Death of Asar, so do thou bind together the words and the deeds, so that in all is one Thought of Me thy delight Adonai.

And I answered and said: It is done even according unto Thy word. And it was done. And they that read the book and debated thereon passed into the desolate land of Barren Words. And they that sealed up the book into their blood were the chosen of Adonai, and the Thought of Adonai was a Word and a Deed; and they abode in the Land that the far-off travellers call Naught.

O land beyond honey and spice and all perfection! I will dwell therein with my Lord for ever.

And the Lord Adonai delighteth in me, and I bear the Cup of His gladness unto the weary ones of the old grey land.

They that drink thereof are smitten of disease; the abomination hath hold upon them, and their torment is like the thick black smoke of the evil abode.

But the chosen ones drank thereof, and became even as my Lord, my beautiful, my desirable one. There is no wine like unto this wine.

They are gathered together into a glowing heart, as Ra that gathereth his clouds about Him at eventide into a molten sea of Joy; and the snake that is the crown of Ra bindeth them about with the golden girdle of the death-kisses.

So also is the end of the book, and the Lord Adonai is about it on all sides like a Thunderbolt, and a Pylon, and a Snake, and a Phallus, and in the midst thereof he is like the Woman that jetteth out the milk of the stars from her paps; yea, the milk of the stars from her paps

Source: https://www.deviantart.com/the-stein/art/Persona-Tarot-Card-HD-The-Hierophant-289971469

Yeah, he’s not my favorite as it shows. But the “pillow talk” chapter is such a ✨mood✨

#thelema #thelemic holy season #argentum astrum #holy days #silver star #tarot #the hierophant

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zaewriteshere · 10 months

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Guardian of the Protocol

Hungry

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He lightly kissed your neck before leaving you to be in his room, and you bit your lips as you could feel your cheeks still flushing furiously at the interaction that just happened.

The fact that someone could desire you like this…

You weren’t used to it.

You stayed in bed for a bit longer, enjoying how comfortable it was.

Then, you got up and went to look for your date, your cheeks now a somewhat normal colour.

You heard him downstairs, and so you went down the staircase and to the source of the noise, and you found him working on your meal, listening to some french music.

You didn’t know the title, but the woman’s voice was very soothing.

He finally noticed you, and looked you up and down for a bit, his eyes slowing down at certain parts – clearly checking you out. You smiled shyly, and he returned it back in kind, tearing his gaze away from you to resume his work.

You walked up behind him and hugged his back, your hands tracing over his chest, roaming it.

It was almost imperceptible, but his movement slowed down just a bit before resuming to their old rhythm.

“My my, can you not wait ? I thought you were hungry,” He teased.

“I am,” You confirmed. “But I’m also hungry for something else,” You mumbled, just above a breath.

“What was that ?”

“I’m also hungry for something else…” You repeated louder, gaining confidence.

You couldn’t see his expression, but you felt him tense and as he took deep breaths.

“If you continue like this, I’m going to have to rail you later,” He said, warningly.

“What if I want that, though ?” You replied, your hands travelling down.

You heard him gasp very quietly, and he took your hands in his, seeming to hesitate for a moment. He made yours travel back up, whispering more to himself than anything else.

“Not now.”

So, you detached yourself from him and watched him cook the meal, growing hungrier by the minute.

Soon enough, it was ready, and it smelled amazing.

“Can I do anything ?” You asked.

“No, you should be enjoying yourself. Let me take care of you,” You nodded, your cheeks tinted pink at what you thought was also an innuendo.

Once the table was set, you both sat down and wished each other a good meal.

You started eating, and oh boy, was it good.

You couldn’t stop the light delighted moan escaping you.

Vincent stopped eating, looking at you with an unreadable look, lips slightly parted.

He cleared his throat as he resumed eating, not without glancing at you every once in a while, though.

To say that you adored the meal would be an understatement.

Flavourful mixed with the right texture without being overwhelming, you just couldn’t get enough of it.

“You’re an amazing cook, you know that ?” You complimented once you swallowed your bite.

His smile was charming, not in the way that he wanted to seduce you, it was just so genuine.

“Merci,” And you could tell he was honest. “I’m also good in other mediums, or so I heard,” He smirked and winked at you, which made your eyes widen as you blushed.

“I’ll demand proof of that,” You blurted out without thinking, and you did your best to control just how red you were.

He chuckled.

“And proof you will have,” He confirmed, his smirk not leaving his lips.

You gulped, breaking off eye contact shyly as his gaze was piercing you, almost undressing you.

No.

He was stripping you down with his eyes, a hungry look on his face.

He already has finished his plate, and you weren’t even halfway through, too distracted by him.

“Do you want help finishing your plate ?” He asked innocently.

“No, it’s good ! I’m just… A bit distracted…” You admitted, blushing.

“C’mere,” He invited you, and you got up from your place. “Such an obedient little thing…” He praised as he took you by the hips and put you on his laps, facing the table.

Wrapping one arm around your belly, he took your plate and placed it in front of you.

“Now, be a good pet and finish your plate,” You could only nod as you resumed eating, not trusting your voice.

His hands travelled on your body, first your stomach, then one hand was going up to your chest while the other one going down to your nether regions.

All of this teasing that has been going for a while was getting you aroused.

You could tell he was, as well, as you felt him harden under you.

Your hands shook slightly as he just roamed your body, exploring every single curve and hard edges that you had.

Much to your dismay, you let out small gasps here and there, especially when he was kissing your neck and whispering praises into your ears.

“You’re almost there, keep it up,” He encouraged, and it took you a moment to understand that he was referring to your food and not something else.

He knew just how excited you were, you could tell.

Soon enough, you finished your plate.

“Such a good little thing, bravo,” He praised, getting more intense with his touches.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, and had a very good work out.

So much so, that you woke up sore all over with very obvious bite marks and hickeys all over your body.

Some were really, really big.

Thankfully, your fighting gear covered the entirety of your body.

It was just going to be a problem when you’re out of it.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you saw Chamber walk up to you and wrap your arms around you, hugging you from behind. He looked at you via the mirror, his hair messy.

“You look perfect,” He whispered, more to himself than anything, but you heard him.

You saw and felt his hands roam your body once more, the sun not even up.

“Vincent…” You started, taking his hands into yours. “We fucked all night and you want more ? I have a mission to go to, and I’m barely awake. Please spare me, I don’t want to die again,” You tried joking, but you felt him freeze at the last part, his eyes turning grim.

“Please don’t joke about that…” He buried his face into the crook of your neck. You bit your lip.

“Sorry,” You apologised. “Can I borrow one of your shirts ? Not sure my top can cover the markings that you left me with…” You asked awkwardly.

“You want to hide the markings but want my clothes… You do realise that either way, the Protocol is going to know that we fucked, right ?” He teased, kissing your neck and shoulders.

You blushed.

“We can just say that I dirtied my top and you lent me one ?” You asked.

He shrugged then nodded, going to get you a shirt, not without checking you out once again.

Once properly dressed, you turned to see Vincent looking at you intensely, a slight blush on his face.

“You should try dressing up more, my guardian,” He stated.

“Thank you,” You replied.

The ride back was… It had a different ambience to it.

The closer you got to the HQ, the grimmer Chamber seemed to be, but he was hiding it pretty well. His hand in yours, he was softly rubbing his thumb against the back of your palm.

Once you arrived, he didn’t immediately let go of your hand, as if waiting for your next move.

You loosened your grip around him, and he detached his limb from yours.

Looking at the clock, you realised you still had enough time to get one giant coffee and get good luck wishes from everyone.

Going to the kitchen after waving Vincent goodbye, you were met face to face with Yoru, who you were surprised was up this early.

“Oh, hi,” You greeted with a smile.

He turned to you, his expression brightening before becoming unreadable once he saw your attire.

“You’re wearing Chamber’s clothes,” He observed, arching an eyebrow.

You started making your coffee as you replied :

“Yeah, I dirtied my top while eating, so he lent me one of his shirts.”

He seemed unconvinced, but didn’t press the matter.

He saw, however, just how much coffee you were making.

“Didn’t sleep well ?” He noticed.

“More like not enough,” Answered Chamber in your stead, and he made you jump as you whipped around to see him smiling at you.

When did he enter the room ?

How long has he been there ?

… You were too tired to care for now. You desperately needed your coffee.

Ryo’s scowl deepened.

“They probably had nightmares just by being in your home,” He spat.

It only made Vincent chuckle.

“If it makes you feel better,” He replied, seemingly not wanting to enter a fight on your “last” morning at the Protocol.

You wondered how they would both act when they realised that you weren’t, in fact, going back.

You kind of felt sorry to not have told them, but one didn’t want to know and you didn’t have an occasion to do so for the other.

The mission was about to begin anyways, so you excused yourself from the both of them as you chugged your coffee, and went to your room to change.

This was going to be a very important mission.

#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #valorant #x reader #gender neutral reader #yoru x reader #yoru x you #destiny 2 #gotp #long fic #chamber x reader #chamber x you #slow burn

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