#i will eventually force myself out of this state. sometimes my bed feels like this sticky trap i cant get out of ykwim

[oscill4te]

if i absolutely must go get a new phone number i am honestly so reluctant to even update my family. partially for petty reasons, the other half bc i always feel my heart lurch whenever i have to contact them.

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Electric Touch

Soft smut like you guys wanted. This takes place literally one day after the main story ends.

Rating: E

Warning: Language (should be a given for my writing at this point), and, clearly, smut. Proceed with caution.

It didn’t take the two of you long to find your rhythm again.

You hadn’t known how long it was going to take to convince him to come back to the city with you, so you’d actually used some of your vast reserves of vacation time at work and taken the entire week off. You were glad for it now, because it gave you the time you needed to rediscover each other.

After dropping Jack off at school, you’d gone to the store to pick up some much needed items that you’d been missing yesterday. And by the time you got back home, Aurora had left for work and you were alone with him again. 

He was waiting for you on your bed when you got back, still in a pair of Aurora’s old sweats that he’d slept in the night before (which had been the only thing in your house that even came close to fitting him). The second you join him on the bed, he grins at you and pins you beneath him.

“Finally I get you all to myself,” he sighs before leaning down and capturing your lips with his. Despite how long it had been, it feels so right, like you’d been missing a part of yourself for years that had finally been returned to you. In a way, that’s exactly what it was.

You waste no time lacing your arms around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. Even this simple action makes him growl against your lips, reminding you just how touch-starved he had been these last ten years. If every one of his touches was like a live-wire against your skin, it must be ten times worse for him.

“We have to be kind of quiet,” you remind him. “I have neighbors and the walls are kind of thin. I don’t want the whole building to know what we’re doing.”

“Fuck that,” he scoffs. “I don’t care who hears. The whole complex can hear. And I don’t think I have the capability of being quiet, especially not now. Do you have any idea of how good you feel?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly. “I don’t want a noise complaint,” you say reluctantly. “And we should probably take it slow. Because as much as I want to rip your clothes off, you feel so incredible too, and I don’t want us to get sensory overload.”

He huffs a bit. “I hate it when you’re right sometimes,” he grumbles affectionately. “But if you want slow…” He threads his fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, as though you were as delicate as porcelain. “I can go slow, darling,” he whispers as he breaks away, pressing a feather-light kiss just below your ear and nearly making you melt right then and there.

He kisses you again, and as you kiss him back, you can’t stop yourself from dragging your hand over his bare chest, refamiliarizing yourself with the planes your fingers and mind had never truly forgotten. Every touch of him felt more right, felt more like home.

His lips move from over your own to create a line over your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone. Interestingly, he doesn’t try to leave any marks on you, which used to be one of his favorite things to do, but you suppose that would fall under the category of being too much.

Because even just his lips are managing to pull breathy little moans from the back of your throat, awakening a primal lust in you that had lay dormant for so long. Only he can make you feel like this, only he can bring you to a state of utter bliss that you can feel him slowly working towards.

Eventually, his lips are forced to stop by the fabric of your shirt getting in the way, so once again, he moves one of his hands down to your waist and scrunches the hem of your shirt in his hand for a moment before slipping beneath the garment, his fingers just dancing over the top of your skin.

“Can I take this off?” he asks in a husky, strangled sort of voice that you immediately recognize. It means he’s just barely holding himself back from going all out, and you have to applaud his self-control.

“Yes,” you say hesitatingly. He notices your tone and silently asks the question with a raised eyebrow. “I just… well, I don’t really look the same,” you warn, unable to look him in the eye anymore.

“Hey, no, none of that. Look at me,” he insists. You twist your mouth but glance up at him out of the corner of your eye. “I don’t care,” he assures.

“You don’t care that I have stretch marks to hell and back that I haven’t been able to get rid of?” you scoff with a humorless laugh. “I’m not saying I look terrible, but the stretch marks are a bit of a shock.”

“Okay, let me amend what I said. I do not give a single, solitary fuck about stretch marks or any other thing you may have,” he says, too sincere for you to doubt him. “And you’re the stupidest person alive if you think I would care,” he adds affectionately.

You glare at him without any real potency, but finally allow him to lift the shirt over your stomach, and then off your body entirely.

You knew that you didn’t have the same body that you did in your early twenties. You were ten years older and you’d also brought a baby into the world. Yet he still looked at you with the same wonder and awe that he always used to, as though you were the most beautiful thing in the universe to him. 

After a moment, he leans down to kiss you again, though his hands are eager to explore this new expanse of skin. After just a moment’s hesitation, his hand travels further north to skim over your breast.

Despite your admonishment of him earlier, now you let out a high-pitched whine that’s by far the loudest noise from either of you so far. He doesn’t tell you to stay quiet, he just smirks, his confidence growing now that he knows he still very much has the capability to turn you to putty in his hands.

He seems to take your loud whine as permission to be loud himself now. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls before his mouth moves to your chest, and he’s freely letting out noises from the back of his own throat as he presses his mouth over every available inch of you. He’s not at all quiet about it.

Once again, it eventually gets to a point where an article of clothing hinders the progress of his mouth; this time, it’s your bra. Unlike his slight hesitation with your shirt, now he immediately reaches around your back, and you raise yourself for a moment to help him. His fingers find the latch, he undoes it, and flings the thing across the room without a second thought.

Once it’s gone, he wastes no time in continuing with his ministrations. It’s only when his lips brush against your nipple does he decide to change things up, and adds his tongue to the mix as well. At this point, you’re absolutely mewling for him, any worries about being too loud totally gone from your mind. All you need is for this man to continue what he’s doing, because you’re nearly to the point of combusting.

Your own hands are frantically running up and down his body, desperate for something to land on. Eventually, one of your hands brushes against his cock, hard and needy, in his borrowed sweatpants.

“Shit!” he hisses, and you smile to yourself as you begin to gently rub him as his mouth continues its work on your breast.

Before long, he can’t concentrate on you any longer, and you’ve gotten him to nearly as much of a mess as he reduced you to. His breath is coming out in short bursts and his eyes are screwed shut as though it’s taking every amount of self-control he possesses to not fall apart beneath your hands.

And you love it. You relish in it. For as lovely as it is to know that your body still recognized and responded in kind to him, it was nothing short of delicious to learn you still had this much power over him as well.

“Baby… baby, too much,” he winces, and though you pull your hand away, you can’t help but feel just a little bit disappointed. Perhaps he reads this on your face, because he hastens to explain himself a moment later. “I wasn’t gonna last if you did much more of that,” he pants apologetically.

“It’s fine,” you say, and you genuinely mean it. You yourself were beyond sensitive, and you knew it was just the same or even worse for him. You’d have to build up to your old tolerance level; it wouldn’t come back overnight. Thankfully, you had all the time in the world to do so.

You give him a moment to catch his breath before tugging on the drawstring of his borrowed sweatpants. “Ready to keep going?” you ask, biting your lower lip slightly just to mess with him further.

He groans when he sees you doing that. “Dammit woman, you’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he says, and you can’t tell if he’s complaining or paying you a compliment. Knowing him, it was probably both. But before you can respond, he rolls on top of you and starts undoing your pants, and any words you might have said are lost on the tip of your tongue.

He gently slides your pants down over your hips and when they get low enough you help him kick them off your legs. Your underwear follows a moment later, and again, he’s looking at you with that same need and love that he had ten years ago. If anything, it’s only intensified now.

“God, I love you so much. Have I ever told you that before?” he asks, his voice returning to that husky quality it had earlier that made you want him even more.

“Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it more,” you laugh as you link your arms around his neck and pull him in for another searing kiss, which he responds to enthusiastically.

As he kisses you, his hand comes to rest on your hips, then ever so slowly makes its way to your burning center. You gasp into his mouth, your own hands clawing into his back as one of his fingers ghosts up your slit.

He pulls his lips away from yours, though you can tell he doesn’t want to. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers. You nod quickly, though most of your attention is focused on taking slow, even breaths in a (most likely futile) attempt to calm your heart, which feels close to beating out of your chest.

“Do we need lube?” you breathe out. You’d picked up a bottle at the store, just in case, and you’d rather use it sooner than later if you needed it.

“We’ve never needed that before,” he says with an expression almost like a grimace. You hope he wasn’t insulted you’d gotten some. Yes, he did always do much too good of a job working you up to where you’d never needed it with him before but…

“I just wanted to be safe. I had a kid, you know? Shit’s changed,” you explain, making him chuckle.

“Well, either way, I think we’re good. You’re… well, to put this mildly, you’re absolutely dripping, darling,” he says, skimming his finger through you again for emphasis and drawing out gasp as he stops short just before your clit. Which, as much as you hate to admit it, is probably a good thing. You don’t think you could handle it if he went straight for the kill; you needed to be built up more first.

And he's only too happy to oblige. He dips his finger inside you, barely moving it to make sure you're well adjusted, and not daring to curl it to that spot just yet. You let out a breathy little sigh of contentment which he knows is a sign he can keep going.

He starts a steady rhythm of moving his finger in and out of you, still keeping his movements gentle for now, though he does reposition himself so his body is in between your legs instead of hovering overtop of you. He's going to take you into oblivion, and all you had to do was hold on and enjoy the ride.

He starts peppering kisses along your thighs, while at the same time, speeding up the movements of his finger, making you let out yet another high-pitched moan. Your thighs were sensitive enough as it was, and add being touch-starved into the mix, well, it was a wonder how you managed to hold on at all.

You reach down to tangle your fingers into his hair, desperate for something to hold onto to keep you grounded. It spurs him on even further; he adds a second finger and decides to move them forward to hit that spot. It's only the barest brush of the fingers, but it's enough.

“Fuck, baby!” you cry out, fingers clenching in his hair, about a second away from release when he pulls back, not stopping entirely so as not to send you into shock, but also not letting you hit orgasm quite yet. You whine at him, your frustration beyond words.

“I know. Give me just a couple more seconds and I'll get you there, I promise,” he murmurs, and then he lowers his mouth to you, giving you a few slow licks while increasing the pressure on that spot by finally curling his fingers forward.

True to his word, that does it for you. With a few shuddering breaths and a high-pitched, drawn out moan, he finally lets you come, prolonging your wave with a few more gentle thrusts of his fingers.

He crawls back up to the top of the bed while you catch your breath, which seems to take a longer time than you remembered. He's patient with you though, not saying anything, just lying there with you while you attempt to regain feeling back in your legs and any form of thought back in your brain.

Eventually, you look over at him, rolling to your side so you're safe in his chest. “Fuck, I missed you,” you say, your voice slightly muffled due to your position. “You're not allowed to leave again,” you say, somewhat in a joking tone, but you're dead serious.

“That's something you'll never have to worry about again,” he promises before cupping your face and kissing you deeply, pouring all his love and affection for you into this one simple gesture. You melt against him, and can only hope you're doing an adequate job conveying your own feelings back to him.

You lay there kissing each other for a long while. You usually didn't take breaks this long in the middle of sex, but he was being so tender, and you had missed him so goddamn much, that you felt it was not only important to take this time together, but necessary. You needed the reassurance he was giving you, whether that reassurance was intentional or not.

But you do have other needs. And when you move closer to him and feel his cock poking your leg, you're reminded that he does too. And it's high time you took care of him after that insane high he managed to take you to.

You pull on the drawstring of his sweatpants, and this time he allows you to undo the tie. Still connecting his lips to yours, you start pushing the fabric down his legs until you can't reach any further. He gets the hint and takes them off the rest of the way, leaving you both naked.

He moves like he wants to get back on top of you, but you pull away to pause for a moment. “We have something we're forgetting,” you murmur before grabbing a pack of condoms from your nightstand, making him pout. 

“I hate these fucking things,” he grumbles as you hand him one.

“Yeah, well, I told you that I'm not having another kid right now,” you state bluntly, not even remotely sorry. You'd relied on your own birth control for close to a year. Now it was his turn.

“I know. I'm not saying I won't use them. I just won't like it much,” he clarifies as he rolls it on. “Now. I really don't want to wait much longer. Ready?”

You nod and spread your legs, hooking them around his waist. He adjusts himself, then slowly eases into you, earning himself another little moan.

He hisses himself as he pushes further until he's all the way in, and not once does he take his eyes off yours. One of your hands comes up to cradle his face. Having this deep, intense emotional connection made the physical side even better.

He starts moving in and out of you, at a glacial pace to start out with. While it would usually frustrate you, today you're grateful for it. It allows both of you to get used to each other again, and for that emotional connection to rise with your physicality.

“Fuck, you're beautiful… I love you so much,” he gasps.

“I love you too,” you breathe as you lift your hips to meet his and speed up your rhythm. Your hands grip into the skin at his back again as you try and pull him impossibly closer to you.

You wish you could stay like this forever, but you do feel yourself cresting far too soon as a result of the little problem of being touch-starved. You can see on his face he's trying to make it last as long as possible, but that it's almost getting painful for him at this point.

“It's okay baby,” you whisper. “Let it out.”

At your words, you both manage to find your releases at the same moment, gasping into each other's bodies as you come. For several minutes you simply lay there in each other's arms, utterly spent.

He's the first to move. He rolls off of you, pulls the condom off, and tosses it into the small trash can in your room before crawling back on the bed next to you, pulling you into his chest.

“You have any plans for the rest of the day?” he asks, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“I should be getting caught up on chores since I'm not working,” you mumble, but the prospect doesn't exactly appeal to you. He doesn't open his arms to release you either.

“Mm… those can wait until after a nap though, right?” he asks cheekily. You roll your eyes. You know he has no intention of letting you do chores after a nap. But sleep sounds far too inviting to refuse, so you curl into his chest, pulling a blanket over the both of you.

And no, chores most definitely did not get done after your nap.

So I know a lot of you want to see Oncie and Jack have some time together. That's next, I promise. I'm going to ATTEMPT to get that out next Saturday, but my work has decided that I'm going to be doing the job of two people for all of next week. I've only done it for one day so far and... yeah, it was a lot. My husband is also insisting that I'm not allowed to kill myself over these one shots because he doesn't like fun. But if I'm going to be a week late, I'll make a note of it. I hope to see you back here next Saturday.

[girlfromvulcan]

The Sandstorm : a sylou scribble

The sandstorm had caught them unexpectedly. Sybok had led them to a small shelter, one of many throughout the valley. Louise wasn't fond of confined spaces, but given the choice of the weather outside, she would just have to deal. She was relieved to see a combined bathroom/toilet area, kitchen area, and two chairs that could convert into beds. Vulcans were, if nothing else, practical. 

They sat on either side, emptying their bags for their indefinite stay.

"There is no need for alarm," Sybok smiled at her. He didn't seem concerned with the shelter being buffeted by gale-force winds and the lights occasionally dimming.

"I will check on weather conditions to see when this will pass," He said, taking his PADD out.

"I'm not alarmed, just a bit claustrophobic," She replied and began to fidget nervously with the hem of her coat.

"I see. Intriguing."

"Hardly. Intriguing would imply something pleasant. This does not feel pleasant."

"Is there anything I can do to ease your discomfort with our situation?" He didn't look up at her as he tapped away on the screen.

"Stop the sandstorm?"

"Unfortunately, I do not have jurisdiction over atmospheric circulation."

"I was trying to be funny." Louise opened her bag and sifted through the contents. A bottle of water, and some snack bars. Nothing too appealing, but it would have to do.

"As was I."

"We could tell each other something about our past? We've got 13 years to catch up on, right? It might take my mind off how small this place is."

"Agreeable. You may commence." 

He placed his PADD to the side and waited for her to begin.

"Okay, let me see. Hmmm, when I was little, I used to sleepwalk everywhere. My parents would find me in the craziest places. Sometimes I'd wake up in the bathtub. They would often find me sitting on a chair with my feet on my brother's bed. They even found me out on the back step of our house once in the middle of winter."

"Somnambulism."

"What?"

"Somnambulism. It is a sleep disorder belonging to the Parasomnia family. Quite common in children of your species."

"Oh, well, it was a little bizarre. They never knew where they would find me in the morning. I eventually grew out of it, of course. I don't do it anymore. What about you, any quirky behaviour as a child?"

"No. Vulcan children do not exhibit "quirky behaviour" and I certainly did not traverse about in a state of low consciousness." 

He gave her a look that she often described as "Vulcan Sass".

Ignoring him, she continued.

"I got lost once in a shopping facility. A sea of food replicators surrounded me. I was so short, and it seemed like they were these tall robotic giants towering above me. I remember being scared, and I might have even been crying when my father found me. I had a habit of wandering off and exploring."

"Curiosity?"

"I guess I was curious. Not always a good thing. I used to drive my parents crazy," She smiled at him.

"Curiosity is the learning path. It is an admirable quality."

"Try telling my parents that when they couldn't find me for hours!! They weren't as encouraging as you. I loved to draw and paint, too, still do. I would spend hours drawing weird aliens…ahhhhh…sorry, that was rude of me."

"There is no offence where none is taken. However, I am alien to your species as you are to mine."

"I know it just seems rude to say it like that. But, I promise you they were never as handsome….." Her face grew hot. 

Sybok didn't seem to pick up on her slip of the tongue, or he just chose to ignore it.

"The Vulcan race is, in Human terms, handsome. That would be an accurate description."

"Well, aren't you rather full of yourself as you've gotten older?"

"Louise, I did not say I found myself to be handsome. I rarely consider my physical appearance. I am unaware if it is pleasing or not."

"You've never checked yourself out in a mirror?" She gave him a sceptical look. 

There were mirrors all over the Vulcan Embassy. Maybe they just hung them up for all the Humans that drifted through the hallways.

"No," He flatly replied.

"I see. Well, I wish I had your self-confidence." She pulled out her notebook and rummaged for a pen.

"You do not believe yourself to be handsome?"

"I hope not!! I'd go for adorably cute; handsome makes me sound a little mannish." Louise looked up to find he had moved closer to her and was intent on regarding her. 

"What? Why are you looking at me that way?"

"Symmetrically, it is almost perfect. Your eyes are of a pleasing shape, neither small nor overly large. The color is unremarkable and quite common in my species. Your nose appears to have been injured at some point, but it lends character to your features. Curious, I had not noticed that before. It was not like that when we first met. Your mouth is in proportion to the frame of your eyes and nose. There is a certain balance to your face. You may be referred to as "beautiful" on some worlds," Sybok was still studying her. The weight of his stare was making Louise uncomfortable.

"You're making me self-conscious," she said softly. His eyes met hers. He didn't speak for what seemed like an eternity.

"That was not my intention," he replied quietly.

"No, I…I… know… I'm not good with compliments." She glanced out the window.

"It was not a compliment."

"Oh great, now I feel even weirder about what just happened. So let's just not talk."

It was quiet between them for a while. Then he spoke.

"Kadith."

"Huh?"

"Kadith. What is, is."

"Yes, I know what it means; why are you saying it?"

"Regarding your facial features, I was merely describing what is."

"Well, thank you," Louise smiled politely.

"I did not compliment you; therefore, your thanks are not needed."

"Okay, feeling uncomfortable again. Can we just not talk about my face, its proportions, or if it was a compliment or not?"

"If you wish." Sybok went back to his reading, and she went back to find a pen to draw with.

"Thank you," Louise immediately shot him a look as if to tell him, "Don't you dare say anything!".

Silence descended on the shelter, and neither spoke. Instead, he busied himself with correspondence, and she began to sketch her hand.

"How did you injure your nose?" Sybok asked.

Louise looked down at her notebook and let out a long sigh. She knew he wouldn't be able to resist asking about her nose. Louise just hoped he didn't see her in a different light if she opened up to him.

"I apologize. I do not wish for you to discuss something painful."

"No, it's fine. If you must know, it was gifted to me by my ex-husband. He broke it. See this imperfect nose." She pointed at the small bump on her bridge. "This is why I have never been "referred to" as beautiful back home."

More silence.

"I believe they say on Earth, "beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Could it be you have not met such a person who sees this quality in you?"

"My track record with men isn't excellent."

"You have a log for men?" Sybok raised both eyebrows. 

Louise laughed at his shocked expression.

"No. God, no!! That's not what I meant; it's a saying. It means I don't have the best taste in men." 

He immediately seemed less horrified.

"Perhaps you should make a more thorough assessment of your needs. A spreadsheet of sorts."

"How very Vulcan."

"Logic is useful in some instances. What do you desire in a male?"

Louise could tell she had his complete and utter attention now, and there was no getting out of compiling a verbal list for him. Nevertheless, she found it a little odd that the Vulcan Minister would be so interested in her likes and dislikes in men.

"Let's see……I would like someone kind, compassionate and faithful. Someone who doesn't consider me their punching bag. Good sense of humour. Being employed is always a plus. Supports my career."

Louise could tell he was in deep thought. Sybok always tilted his head slightly when he contemplated something. In truth, she had described him. After all these years, a small space in her heart always held onto him.

"Am I boring you?" She smiled.

"Not at all. I was calculating the percentages of finding such a person. I believe your wants and needs are a solid foundation for procuring a satisfactory mate."

"Percentages please?" She had to hear this. Hopefully, it was a high number.

"I calculate them at 98.9%."

"Well, that's hopeful; thank you, Minister. Now, what about you? Surely, some lovely young thing has snapped you up after all these years?"

"I have no bond-mate."

"But what do you look for in a woman?"

"I do not look." 

She could see his Vulcan mask of no emoting going up across his face. He'd also replied quickly to her question. A little too soon, in her opinion.

"You don't look? There must be someone?"

"Why would I disclose such information to you?" He broke eye contact. Most unusual for him.

(GOTCHA!)

"I knew it! Who is she? Does she work at the Embassy? Is she here on Vulcan?" Sybok didn't seem like a guy who would date, let alone have a crush on someone. Although to be honest, she was a little jealous that Sybok might have found someone.

"Yes."

"Wait….what…yes to the first or last parts? You're being rather evasive for a Vulcan, you know."

"I will not speak about it further." 

He went back to working on his PADD.

"Does she know?"

"You are incorrigible, Louise." 

Sybok looked out the window and then glanced back over at her.

"It looks like the storm is abating."

(Nice try, Mr. Vulcan)

If anything, the storm had picked up ferocity. It wasn't abating anywhere, anytime soon.

"Don't change the subject. I want details," 

Who was the incredible woman that has managed to capture his attention? He had never mentioned anything to her in their many conversations, and she thought they shared enough of a history where he would have told her.

"You will not be getting details."

"You're no fun. Are you dating?"

"No, I am not "dating" her. She is unaware of my intentions."

"All those lunches we've shared, and you never said anything. Just listened to me ramble on like a crazy person."

"I have always enjoyed our time together. Of course, you have a predisposition to "ramble," but it is not unpleasant."

"Is she Vulcan?"

"She is female." Sybok smiled slightly. 

Her questions were amusing him, or he enjoyed teasing her with incomplete information snippets.

"Ohhhhh, the plot thickens."

"There is not a plot." Sybok rolled his eyes.

"Hmmmmmm, well….she must be a VERY remarkable Vulcan, female what-have-you. When are you going to make your move?"

"Make my move? Unclear."

"Let your intentions be known. Tell her how you feel."

"When the time is suitable, I see no hurry to do so."

"Well, you're a cool cucumber." She stifled a yawn.

Sybok's brows knitted together. Louise knew he was trying to understand what chilled fruit from the gourd family had to do with his attraction toward a woman.

"You require rest; the hour is late."

"I guess you're right. It's been a long day. But, I'd still like to know about this mystery woman of yours."

"There is no mystery involved, Louise. Now come, you may lean against me. It will grow cold as the night progresses. Your warmth will be agreeable."

"Are you sure? What about the whole touching business?"

"I am more than capable of shielding myself from your thoughts and you from mine."

"Well, you're my Supervisor. This could be considered inappropriate back on Earth," Louise smiled sweetly at him and moved over to where he was. 

If he were a Deltan or Orion, she might have thought twice about his suggestion. However, Vulcans weren't known for their Casanova tendencies.

"Louise, I assure you I will be able to resist your Human charms."

"Hmmm, not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult!"

"It was meant as neither."

Sybok leaned against the wall with legs stretched out in front. She slid up next to him. It felt like a first date to Louise, they didn't know where to put their arms, and it was all ridiculously awkward. They eventually settled into a position that was comfortable for each other. She rested her head on his chest, and Sybok placed his arm around her without any romantic intention. He was careful to make sure his fingertips made no contact with her body by forming a loose fist with his hand. His body temperature was cooler than hers, and his offer to cozy up had been self-serving. He'd often mentioned his dislike for colder environments. Louise had become his Human electric blanket.

He continued to read his PADD and compose emails.

"I'll find out who she is," she said, barely awake.

"No doubt you will incessantly pester me over the coming weeks," he replied. 

"Please rest, Louise. We have a long walk back tomorrow morning. I will stay awake to make sure no harm comes to us throughout the night."

Louise closed her eyes at his promise. She knew he would keep her safe. He always had. The wind had a rhythmic sound, and it was lulling her to sleep. She was just in that twilight where the dream world and real-world blurred together, indistinguishable from each other. She wasn't sure if she imagined it but felt the barest of touch on her face. Cool and gentle. Calmness followed the contact, and then she heard him. He didn't speak out loud. It was as if his voice was within her.

"Vaksurik du itisha."

She needed to remember this, but she rarely recalled her dreams the next day. If it was real or imaginary, she liked how it felt or, more importantly, how he felt.

+++++

Vaksurik du itisha - "You are beautiful."

+++++

[raevenlywrites]

Hi Raev! I'm wondering if I can get your opinion on somethin.

So I've been having symptoms of depression and adhd and anxiety but I'm not any of those, I don't have any official diagnosis of anything but I've been trying to figure out for years what's wrong with me. The doctor says I need to be more active and sleep better, which I agree with that it would help. However, I cannot find motivation to even get up once I lay down, it's very difficult. I tried reward systems but they don't work because I either cheat (or skip a scheduled task) or I reward myself for the barest minimum lol.

I have other issues I won't get into, basically I feel stupid sometimes. But anyway I think something is wrong with me or I'm just lazy. But I don't know how to improve. How do I force myself to do things I need to?

Hey Nonny,

Let me start off by saying that the world is on fire and feeling depressed and anxious is like a given. That's not to diminish your situation at all, simply to say that even w/o a Dx, feeling stressed/anxious/depressed/hopeless is a very reasonable reaction to the state of things. So just keep that in mind.

I'd recommend a slight tweak on the reward system for starters, and try for a general tracker, so that you have an unbiased record of how things are going for you. It's easy for our brains to focus on the negative, and to negate any progress no matter how small. So, if you're able, make a note somewhere you can access easy (I email myself for example) and track any points of interest. Start small; you can always add more, but you don't want to scare yourself off with a massive list. When I'm at a low point, my tracking email is a simple "slept bad, hate everything" sent right after I turn off my alarm. Eventually, that email turns into "slept ok, gonna try to write something today" or a "had a decent day. Tired, but I managed to take a shower." It doesnt have to be elaborate, but the act of checking in with yourself will help make sure you don't miss the better days, and will help give you ammo against the "it's always been bad and it will never change" feeling that creeps in when you're at your lowest.

My other bit of advice is to seriously lower your expectations. The success you'll feel at achieving a ridiculously small goal adds up, and it helps combat the "do all the things! Oh no I didn't do them all I faaaaaaail" trap. Set a goal of brushing your teeth once a fucking week. Just once. Don't think about how small it is or what other folks are doing, just hit that goal of brush your teeth once a week. If you wanna be more active, start with just flexing all your muscles a few times while you're lying there in bed. Seriously, it's more exercise than none at all. Doing just a little bit is better than doing nothing. The babyiest of steps, ya know?

Finally, I just want to remind you that you're not bad or stupid or wrong or lazy. Your brain isn't doing the go thing, that's all. It's easy to fall into this idea that you should be productive and everyone else can do it etc etc. First off, no, not everyone else can. Lots of us struggle with executive function so it's seriously not just you. And second off, even if it was that doesn't make you stupid. It just means your internal processes aren't firing as expected. It happens. I'd recommend using coping strategies for ADHD that work for you, even without an official Dx. If it helps, it helps. If it doesn't, try something new. Shift the way you expect things to go. For example, I can't seem to make myself unload the silverware from the dishwasher if it's the last step I do. So I just do it at some random point, only the silverware, and leave all the other dishes. I get back to them eventually. Doing it in pieces works for me, and there's no weird dish police coming to write me a ticket (I do get that I have the luxury of an understanding partner and no one breathing down my neck to be upset about how I do this, ymmv). This is part of where tracking can help, too. If you can figure out what parts of a task hang you up, you can pivot and try doing them a different way.

I wish you all the luck with this, Nonny. It's a tough battle you got there. Make it as easy on yourself as you can. <3

[erraticunicorn]

The knight had a lance.

The lance had a promise.

A promise to never kill the one it struck.

Time heals all wounds.

There was a traveling knight.

It was another miserable day. The heat was blasting the adobe homes with force, as a malaise of dust hovered over our heads. To top it off, today was the day after the tourney. The grand knight Rocinante would be visiting the village, an age-old tradition where the knights come to assist the peasantry. The time was high noon, the hour to gather in the town square.

We slowly trotted and culminated around the well as we waited, and waited, and waited. Eventually, a darker dust cloud was seen on the horizon, and beneath it a dark figure of a horse. As time ticked on, the figure grew in size, and one could see his head held high while his horse’s head was held low. He meandered along into the town square, expecting cheers where, instead, he received sighs.

His armor shone, glimmering in the hot sun, ornate feathers on his helmet, his horse adorned with the latest horse armor. “Ladies and gentle-peasants, lend me your ear. Today, you have the greatest honor of meeting, I, Rocinante of the Blessed Lance. I have just now returned from the grand tourney, placing a noble 67th place. Knowing this merit of skill, let me take your biggest travail and I shall solve it.”

Mumblings began emerging from the crowd, “Water my garden!” “Take out my trash!” “Pay off my home loan!”

“Settle down everyone… all virtuous submissions, but nary the type of request a knight of my honor would accept,” Rocinante proclaimed. “Rather, I sense a huge weight upon this town, as negative energies have formed a mighty gyre above us, circulating and absorbing your essence. Fear not,” he drew out his mighty lance, and hoped it would twinkle against the backdrop. “This lance is imbued with a magical vow. It states it will never be able to take a life in our mortal world, yet in return, it can remove any being originating from the cursed plane.”

The knight began winding up, getting his horse into a frenzy. The dust was kicked up, creating great billowing figures turning into various shapes. Lions, eagles, griffins were summoned behind him as froth formed around the horse’s mouth. Suddenly, he began charging towards the crowd. Towards me. I thought of what to do, to move left, or right, to hope deeply that whatever evil spirit the knight spoke of would appeared in front of me and protect myself — instead I did nothing. I did nothing but stand there. I did nothing but get lanced through the heart. I didn’t feel much, but I felt it all. I cried, but I didn’t. I watched every other possibility flash through my eyes, but I saw darkness. I fell. The crowd gasped, and the air drained from the town square. The cumulative consciousness ran through the possible scenarios, was this expected? Are the demons quelled? Was this a sacrifice? Did the knight mess up?

“Fear not, ladies and gentlepeasants! As stated, this lance is not deigned to kill! It is here to remove your sorrows, and I have done just that! In exchange, some mortal flesh had to be damaged! Quell your fears, bury your worries, for the ticking of the clock is the greatest healer of them all. Hark, remember these words, time heals all wounds!” With the proclamation hanging heavy over the air, the knight sped off into the horizon, onto the next sad town to help the next sad lot.

~

A year later, and I was still alive.

Barely.

The knight was back. His maxim was true. Even though the lance went straight through my heart, I healed. Time had healed my wound. In its place a brambly, gnarled scar over the left side of my chest. My open heart had turned closed, like the door in my home most days. The knight had the fortune to not witness the months I laid in bed, looking at the roof, waves of pain coursing through every fiber of my being. Sometimes I wondered if it would have been better if his lance had not made the sacred vow.

The knight was back. Just like last year, we trundled to the town square to await our glorious knight. The routine was dry. A speech was sung out proclaiming an exorcism of the spirits dwelling over the town. As the years ticked on, we all became burdened with heavy scars roiling our flesh – a town for the disfigured.

[l0v3strick3n]

There's a woman in my nightmares chasing me for over a decade now, and as I get older it gets more aggressive.

Late Halloween story? I hope.

When I was in my pre-teen years I get a nightmare of something chasing me from time to time. I would see my body sleeping on the bed, I'll try to go back to it and then there'd be a shadow trying to pull me to the bottom of the bed. I ignored these thinking I might just be stressed in school and stuff, or too much horror movies.

It all began from there. From time to time I'd dream of being chased by something and I never get to wake up until I fully escape it. Sometimes I have to force myself to wake up even when sleep is heavily pulling my eyes close. I already experienced having a nightmare of having sleep paralysis several times. Yes, a nightmare of me having sleep paralysis, when I have never even known that such thing exists yet. I thought it was just because of too much stress too, so I moved on from it when we moved houses.

Eventually I found that the "it" I was pertaining to is a woman, taking different forms. It used to take a form of a man I know in real life, then a male character I made, but eventually it only took a form of a woman. And in each time, it only tries to never let me wake up. Running after me with a knife, haunting me as a ghost in a place I don't even know, trying to charm me to come with it to a very dark place, it all did it, and everytime it happens I have to gather all my strength to wake up, as my whole body will start forcing me to remain heavily asleep in the process.

I stopped regularly watching horror movies and shows thinking it might be causing me stress and nightmares, took all the relaxing exercises I can, drank a lot of water, ate healthy, slept properly. Recently when I watched a movie again once with my cousin (A movie I already watched so I was prepared and calm about it), I saw the woman on my ceiling while my whole family is asleep. No I'm not alone in my room, I was with my dog, mom and aunt. But time seemed to stop as I saw that woman and I was not able to sleep until my dog moved. I avoided looking at the ceiling after that. Note that I went to bed on time at that night too and even had a laugh with my cousin during the movie-watching. And I was doing really healthy.

Then yesterday was my birthday. I forgot about that woman again, I did my best. I enjoyed the celebration then had to stay late because I ate a lot and had to let the food down. I never watched horror or anything of the sort. I cried a bit from a conversation but made sure to light my mood back and up again after that. Stressed was not in my mind. Then when sleepiness took over me I went to bed.

Then I dreamt about that woman again. "Dreamception'", a dream in a dream. When I woke up from a nightmare of the woman I thought I was safe, but I was in a very dark house though there are lights coming from the street where that house is. I immediately ran to my parents and they were outside, then I realized that the woman is still chasing me. However when it was about to reach me, a black boar or dog-seeming creature came out of the dark and attacked it. I escaped the "house" with my "parents" (these people in my nightmare eventually felt like strangers), and we all rode an old wagon together then I forced myself to wake up. I was in a sleepy state until the afternoon because of it. Then I slept again. I knew I had to sleep or else I'd be sleepy enough to injure myself like the last time. Yeah I have already injured myself by sleepily walking back and forth, as I forced myself awake at the time too.

Then I was in the dark place again. Like the mixture of the two places in the first dream. And that woman was there. The she caged me in a dark place, and I can feel her going for my body for some reason. I felt my eyes open slowly, but I closed it again because it feels like it would be her in my body and not me. When I closed my eyes I found myself inside the cage's barrier that she made. I did everything I could to escape the cage, but when I opened my eyes after doing so, my body started going heavy and forcing me back to sleep. I pushed myself to remain awake until I fully woke up and immediately stood up to walk to my phone (I charged it near my pc before going to sleep). The dream felt like half a day. I only slept for an hour.

I'm writing this kinda scared for my life. I don't know who that woman is. It's been over a decade and I might not be able to fight back eventually. I already tried prayers when I saw her in my ceiling and when I dreamt of her this afternoon. Both didn't work. I can feel she's getting more and more aggressive the more I get older and gets to wake up again everytime. But I'm doing my best. I'll fight her off as long as I can and wake up as many times as I could.

[coy-scouts]

sorry for the lack of updates, i guess i haven’t built the habit of journaling or typing down some things at the end of the day. oddly enough, i think duolingo has already become a habit of sorts because i get really worried when i’m not able to do it, which is really hilarious, since i’m annoyed the whole time i’m doing it.

sad tonight because of a weird convo with b. we both got high (in our respective apartments) and i felt really touchy and cuddly and said i wanted to come over. i guess that was what we were agreeing on, that i could come over and have dinner there. then he asked if there were any byob places near me, and asked if i wanted to have a little dinner date. i said yes, but we started to get into a little confusing argument since he first said he’d pick me up, then we’d go somewhere like taste of cuba which he’s really been wanting to try. then he suggested we just take public and meet there since it’s between where we are--also since he wanted to drink. i told him that the edible was kicking my ass (it really was at the moment, and i still feel the residual high now) and i’d have a difficult time packing my stuff (with the intention of going home with him and sleeping over). i know i didn’t have to, but i was also worried about drinking on top of being high. the whole logistics of the situation started to worry me, especially since i had also planned to go see e. the next day. 

i don’t recall the moment well, but he somehow changed his mind a another time and said he didn’t feel like going anymore. this made me feel bad, since i felt like it was because of my inability to follow along with his plan. i know i shouldn’t have to force myself and there’s nothing wrong with recognizing that i’m way too overstimulated to do something like that! but he looked really disappointed out of nowhere and i felt bad. i started apologizing and he said it wasn’t my fault, but nothing about what he said reassured me. i asked if i could still come over if i shook off the high eventually, and he said we should just see each other another day. this gutted me, and i sulked in bed until i fell asleep.

i woke up at around 7:30 and messaged him--he said he was fixing dinner, and i asked if i could still come over to his. i didn’t want to take public all the way over to his that late, especially since i still felt a little bit high. he told me he’d rather have alone time that night, and it would be better to see me tomorrow, or sometime else this week.

I love you, and I love you still, and working this out with you also requires that I am honest ab when I need to take my time so I can love better

i feel bad every time he feels bad. i’m still trying to understand the malaise he’s been feeling in the last few months--in my head i keep blaming myself, feeling bad about the state of our relationship, thinking that i’m a big reason for all his dissatisfaction with his life. i know i’m not. but it pains me to see him so unhappy, and also see the decline in his being sweet to me verbally, physically. i can feel him losing hope. is it solely hope in our relationship? frankly, i am too, but i’m trying to keep it together. i really don’t know what i’d do if we’d break up. i really don’t. even the logistics of dealing with that devastation i can’t even visualize. please don’t leave me, b. i’m doing everything i can, but i can’t force you if you don’t want to.

[af-again]

Little did I know...

After the birth of my 7th (and last) child, the stress of my marriage and the fact that I'd had 7 children in almost as many years, during which I'd had two miscarriages, came crashing down on my head. My body was tired and overworked. I lived with debilitating ovarian and uterine pains, that kept me in bed sometimes weeks at a time. This was when wine entered the picture. Just two little glasses and the weight of my life lifted. My husband, ever the people pleaser at the time, was glad to see something could lift my spirits. "It's good to hear you laugh again," he'd say. And I'd internally wonder if I'd been making him miserable with my masking. Diagnosed with severe ADHD at an early age, you'd think someone would have tried to help me. Instead, along with the poverty and the abusive father and the dissociated mother, I was mercilessly bullied. Not just by my peers. At one point my mother pulled me out of school to homeschool me because my 3rd grade teacher despised me and was determined to make my life hell. I honestly don't remember why. So around that age I began to mask. I watched other people closely. Neuro-typical people fascinated me. I would match their vocal tones and facial expressions effortlessly, trying desperately to hide the fact that I was "weird". They still noticed. When I met my husband though, I felt my mask start to slip. He saw passed it, or at least that's what my over-romanticized brain told me. When in reality, he was masking too. After 12 years of marriage and 7 children we both left religion. I slammed the door in the face of "god" and refused to look back. I blamed the harmful belief system we'd buried ourselves in on my fragile mental state and suddenly the pendulum came swinging back at me full force and I had no strength to fight it or move out of it's path of destruction. So alcohol became my escape from my failures, from my self hatred, from my disillusioned mind and ultimately from hope. Two small glasses eventually turned into almost two bottles and not so suddenly I found myself googling "am I an alcoholic" and "how to know if you drink too much alcohol". I wasn't pouring whisky over my Cheerios so I figured I was fine. But I didn't feel fine. Something was missing. So many somethings were missing. I never drove drunk. I didn't drunk dial any of my ex's. I didn't abuse my kids and I didn't cheat on my husband. But alcohol was numbing so much that honestly I didn't know what I was trying to numb anymore. So I quit. I just stopped. It wasn't hard except for that first night when I worried the bottle of wine in my sister's kitchen was going to jump off the counter and make it's way into my hands and I would be trapped again. When it didn't, I went to bed and woke up feeling brand new. I felt... relief. For 9 months I preached about the evils of alcohol and talked about how it was a liquid poison that we willingly consumed. I was obnoxious in my sobriety. Then, one night, on a random date night I thought "wow, I'm really good at controlling myself around alcohol. I could probably drink responsibly now," and I had a glass of wine. It took about three months to end up almost right back where I'd finished 9 months prior. This time I didn't care as much and that scared me. I wanted to want to quit. But this time didn't look as light and fluffy as the time before had. This time quitting looked like a prison. I dug my heels in and searched for a magic answer. I wrote to the authors of several quit-lit books and asked "what do I do now?" I remember reading on an alcohol free forum, "Never quit quitting." As many times as it took, I was going to win this. I would perfect it, because I had to. My life depended on it. Not just my physical body, but the life I wanted to live out.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

[inkandpen22]

Dazed and Confused ( S1: 3/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild language and violence 

Word Count: 3.1k

Part Summary: At Tina’s party, Y/N wants to forget all of her problems. Things take a turn when Billy makes a move on her, angering Steve

Masterlist

Arriving at Tina’s after dropping Dustin at Mike’s, I am in much need of some good old spiked punch. I yank down my gray oversized sweatshirt some more so that it hangs low off my shoulder. As I cross the threshold into the house, the heat of the crowded living room slaps me in the face. Directly to my left, the kitchen AKA the alcohol hub. I slip between bodies and end up at the counter covered with semi-empty bottles and old plastic cups. Most importantly, a bowl of maroon punch sits in the corner. I grab a cup and make my way over. A boy stands in front of it but I reach around him and scoop up some of the mystery substance.

“What’s in this?” I hear a voice holler behind me.

I turn around to answer but freeze when I realize it’s Nancy. She stares at me equally stunned. My face falls, this is awkward. Seriously universe? I couldn’t have at least one drink before bumping into her?

Steve appears behind her looking slick as ever in his black sunglasses and matching blazer.

“Everclear is my guess,” I answer, acting civil.

She nods timidly, “thanks…”

I step out of her way so she can get some of her own. Steve’s head travels up and down slowly with a blank expression. I can’t see his eyes but I assume he’s studying my costume. A gray oversized sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder, red heels, matching earrings, and some shorts, though they’re unnoticeable. I can feel him starring me down through those stupid Ray-Bans. Silently, I beg for him to not bring up our encounter in the parking lot. All I wish for tonight is to drown out reality and try to forget. He’s a human ticking time bomb. The tension between us could be cut with a knife.

“Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Nancy jumps in, forcing me to break my staring contest with her boyfriend.

I open my mouth to answer but Steve beats him to it.

“Flashdance,” he answers for me. “It’s one of her favorites.”

He acts distant, unattached, distracted by the party but I see right through it. There’s something he’s not saying. He says things like this as if it’s common knowledge. A random person wouldn’t describe my eyes as Y/E/C but gray depending on the lighting. One minute, he calls my eyes beautiful and the next he’s starring me down like a disapproving parent. The hell Harrington?!

Nancy gushes, apparently she and I are okay all of a sudden, despite early today with the whole Barb thing. Plus, I think she’s already been drinking for awhile so buzzed Nancy is fun Nancy.

“That’s so cute! You look hot!” She pulls me into a hug.

Over her shoulder, I glimpse up at Steve as he lifts his glasses to rest of his head. His brown eyes threaten to expose my upset from earlier. I get that he’s pissed about my neglect for my feelings. He wants to talk about what was wrong but right now we’re at a party and parties aren’t meant for depressing conversations.

“Let’s go dance!” Nancy suggests, already tugging me into the living room.

Steve calls after her but she ignores him. He follows behind us through the crowd with a groan. In the center of the living room, Nancy stops and turns to me with a bright grin. She cheers as she tosses her head back.

“Woohoo!” She laughs.

This is what I wanted, normalcy. We’re surrounded by our friends, drinking, dancing, being stupid! We did this before everything so why can’t we do it now? Perhaps after tonight, everything will fall back into place.

_______________________________________

On my third game of flip-cup, I’m beyond buzzed. In fact, when I walk I float. I’m on cloud nine. Here, this carefree and lively state is exactly where I wanted to be. Naturally, I’m competitive and amazing at drinking games so I finish my third game with yet another win. I cheer as Tommy from algebra hands me a cup of who knows what as my reward.

“Hey there beautiful,” a husky voice greets from behind me.

I spin around and kind of become dizzy from the action but catch myself.

It’s Billy.

“Hey hottie,” I smirk.

He snickers and closes the space between us to whisper in my ear. “How about you and I go somewhere a little more private?”

That’s a nice thought. He is cute. His ass could have its own zip code. Plus, he has no shirt on under that leather jacket, hello washboard like abs. His California tanned skin glistens under a thin layer of sweat. Damn, he’s a human Ken doll.

He’s no Steve though. Wait… what? I don’t think of Steve like that. Why would I think that? Um, yeah, that’s a no! Then again, Steve is always there for me. Sometimes it can be annoying how he’s always there. It means he cares but I don’t want to dump all of my drama on him. Then, he gets upset when I don’t open up. I hate it when I hurt him. I love him so much that when he’s in pain so am I.

“Okay,” I blurt out without truly thinking.

“Cool,” I hear him whisper as he takes my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs across the room.

Wait, what? What am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t like Billy. He treats Steve like shit. If anything I should kick his pretty ass. Though if I tried he’d probably murder me.

I glance down at his hand engulfing mine. It’s all rough and twice the size of my own. If we make it upstairs, it’ll be just him and I. I’ll be defenseless. I may be drunk but I’m not oblivious. My intuition is still working and it’s screaming for me to pull my shit together.

“Hey Billy? I don’t think…” I press my heels into the floor, slowing him down just as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

Aggressively, he whips around and purposefully towers over me to act intimidating. “What? Now, you’re saying no? Are you messing me? Playing with me!” He accuses.

I shake my head dramatically, “no! No, that’s not what-”

“Oh, so you still want to do this,” he presses.

Too impatient for an answer, he continues up the stairs. The grip he has on me has shifted up to my wrist. I attempt to tug myself free but fear dislocating it, his strength is too great. I stumble up the stairs behind me and I startle to feel dizzy. I think it’s safe to say I’ve had too much.

“No,” I whine, “I don’t want to! Stop! Please! I don’t want to! No!”

“Hey!” A booming voice echoes from the bottom of the stairs.

Rapid footsteps approach from behind me and a rush of relief consumes me when Steve appears beside me. He places a protective hand on my back.

“What the hell is going here?” He directs at Billy, taking note of his fist wrapped around my wrist.

“Nothing that concerns you, Harrington. Y/N and I were just heading upstairs.” He jolts his hand forward, causing me to traveling with it.

Steve instantly pries Billy’s hand from my body. Then, shoves him in the back, flying him forward to land with his ass on the stairs. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me?!” He sneers. His face turns this deep red as he pants angrily.

The two start bickering but I can’t keep up. I see three Steves and a couple Billys shouting in each other’s faces. I lean against the railing unsteadily and slide down to sit on the steps. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” I announce to no one in particular.

I decide to get some rest and shut my eyes. It’s okay, Steve’s here. He’ll protect me.

I’m not sure how much time has past when I hear Tommy and some of the other basketball boys come to break up the fight.

“Come on Y/N,” I hear Steve whisper to me, “let’s get you home.”

Feeling as light as a feather, I’m picked up like a sleepy child off the ground. For a moment, I fall asleep again. I rest my head on his chest and ponder the rare opportunity to sleep without being afraid of being eaten by a monster.

“Y/N?” I hear someone repeatedly call my name. “Y/N, wake up!”

I ease open my eyes and at first my vision is blurry but then they eventually adjust. Steve glances down at me as he we cross the threshold hold to the front yard.

“You smell like sunshine and all things exquisite,” I mumble to myself, adjusting myself in his arms to curl closer to his warmth.

“Even when hammered you still manage to be a walking thesaurus,” he teases.

Opps, he heard me. Oh well, I wasn’t lying. He smells like vanilla, the ocean, sugar, spice, and everything nice.

Goosebumps course over my skin as a brisk October breeze hits me. I shiver slightly and Steve holds me closer.

“We’re almost to my car. I’ll turn on the heat high. You’re okay,” he promises calmly.

Playing the hero, Steve places me into the passenger seat gently and straps me in. I toss my head to the side and rest my eyes again. He shuts the door for me before jogging to the driver’s side. The car drowns out the sound of chaos coming from the party and creates a sense of security. Steve slides behind the wheel and for some reason I choose now to act reasonable.

“Have you been drinking? If so, you shouldn’t drive,” I state like a health textbook.

He chuckles, popping in the keys. “I’m sober. Promise.”

“That’s nice. Good to know,” I yawn.

The last thing I can remember of the ride home is Steve turning on the car.

______________________________________

I wake up silently as Steve pulls up in front of my house. He’s unaware of my stare as he finishes parking and turning off the car.

“Hazel,” I tell him, announcing my woken state.

He looks to me with scrunched eyebrows, all confused. It’s cute when he does that. He’s cute. Geez, what the heck am I saying? He’s dating my best friend! Steve is Steve and Katherine, we don’t mix, at least that way.

“What?” He questions, turning to face me.

“Your eyes… they’re hazel…” I repeat softly with a yawn. “But, it really depends on the lighting.”

He snickers, and astonished expression blesses his features. The subtle blush forming on his cheeks makes me smile to see him all bashful because of my comment. He has no idea how gorgeous we truly is, inside and out. He glances down at his lap, at his hands fidgeting with a button on his jacket, then back up at me with hooded eyes.

“See, right now!” I point out, “they’re a dark brown like a burnt caramel, basically black. When you’re really focused on a task or upset about something, they go dark. Then, when you’re really happy or excited, they turn to a light hazel… like seaglass. It’s how I can tell if something’s bothering you. You don’t even have to tell me half the time. All I have to do is look into your eyes and I know,” I state a matter-of-factly with a light snicker.

I shift you see him directly and tuck a few strands of my hair away from my face. He watches my every move patiently, eagerly, for me to say something more, anything. I can’t speak for him but my heart won’t stop racing. Is it possible to have stage fright in a conversation? I feel like a mannequin, on display. Nervously, I twirl my hair at the ends and find myself unable to meet his gaze anymore.

“Your pupils are rarely small,” I add quietly. “They’re usually really big and take up most of your eye giving off the illusion they’re black. One thing that never changes is…”  I make a circle with my finger in front of my eye to demonstrate, “is the gold rim around each of them.” I lower my hand into my lap and play with the end of my sweatshirt. “That’s my favorite part… ” I confess timidly.

I wouldn’t be saying these things if I were sober. I wish he would say something, anything. He must think I’m crazy. He finds me with Billy heading up stairs. I can only imagine what he must think of me now. Embarrassed beyond belief and sobering up, I excuse myself.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle myself. “See you Monday!”

Swiftly, I climb out of the car. As I walk toward my front door, I curse myself for acting so stupid! Geez, what was I thinking? ‘The gold rim around each of them, that’s my favorite part!’ What kind of mushy, guhsy, marshmallow fluff is that? Ew! If he never spoke to me again I would judge that as completely reasonable! He has a girlfriend! He’s taken! Completely off limits! Why did I spew out this creepy nonsense to him like a total idiot? I’m not some lovesick teenage girl! I’m going to go to my room, put in some Guns N’ Roses, and just scream into my pillow all weekend! It sounds like an excellent plan to me because I just ruined my friendship with Steve forever! Add Nancy to that list because once he fills her in on what I said I’ll lose both of them!

“Y/N!” He calls after me.

I ignore it as I march faster toward the door. He’s only going to call me crazy because I was acting crazy!

“Y/N, wait!” He repeats as I hear him shut the car door and run toward me.

“Goodnight, Steve!” I urge him away without turning around.

His footsteps speed up until they come to a halt directly behind me. I reach for the door handle, my freedom. Desperately, he grips my forearm and steps in front of me, blocking the front door.

“Look, could you just slow down for a sec?” He yells at me as he pants to catch his breath.

“No! I can’t slow down! I just want to go inside, get in my pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened! Alright? Now, excuse me,” I gesture for him to get out of the way.

Reluctantly, paired with an overly dramatic eye roll, he steps aside. Despite wanting his to leave, I thank him quietly for cracking open the front door slowly, making sure not to wake anyone.

“Nance and I broke up…” Steve drops on me.

My heart leaps and I stop dead in my tracks. Unsure of what to do or say, I remain still in the doorway and wait for him to say more.

“She never loved me,” he explains with a heartbroken tone. “At least… I don’t think she did…”

Shit. Please don’t tell me that, Harrington. It only makes me want you more. He’s always so close but too far out of reach. I care about him more than anything but he’ll never mine. I’m just the friend.

I spin on my heels and offer him a sympathetic smile, “would you like to come in?”

He nods, clearly miserable. I step aside, allowing him in. After shutting the door behind us, I warn him to be quiet so we don’t wake my parents. He nods slowly and slips his hand into mine. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leads the way through the moonlit house toward my room. His platonic touch is so blissful, I can only imagine what it feels like otherwise.

_________________________________

Steve and I sit on my bed in our usual positions with my record player going quietly. He lounges like a patient in therapy and me, acting as his therapist, criss-cross beside him. He explains everything. He describes how drunk Nancy got and how he followed her to the bathroom. It was there they got into a fight. She admitted feeling guilty for the loss of Barb. Then, she called all of it bullshit. Us acting like carefree teenagers, never telling Barb’s parents the truth, her love for Steve, all of it is bullshit. He asked Jonathan to take her home and that’s when he stumbled upon me and Billy.

Watching Steve relive it all and hearing the pain in his voice breaks my heart. How could Nance do this to him? I get that she’s going through something, we all are. I’m by no means normal. I’m hiding everything for Pete’s sake! I haven’t been myself for over a year. Steve was just now becoming truly happy again! He was putting on a brave face for Nancy for so long! Now, she crushed it. She crushed him.

I reach and place my hand over his as they rest intertwined on his stomach. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

“I really loved her. At least, I think I did. I don’t know anymore. I thought she loved me too.”

“I did too,” I tell him honestly.

He glances away from the ceiling down to me, “what can I do?”

I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a way I could take away his pain. Yet, I have nothing. I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure. I think you should at least talk to her.

Tomorrow, of course, when she’s sobered up. Perhaps, she was just drunk and didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t in the proper mindset.”

“So I shouldn’t take what she said to heart?”

“Well, there’s also the argument that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Does the same go for you?” He snickers.

I laugh, “sometimes.”

“So you don’t like the gold in my eyes? I thought it was your favorite part?” He smirks, turning to lay on his side and face me. My hand would’ve fallen off his hadn’t he flipped his over to catch it.

Ugh, he’s such a sneaky jerk! His cheeky smirk only grows with my silence. Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I bashfully hide my face.

“Yeah… about that…” I laugh nervously, “let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Should I forget that you also said I smell like sunshine and everything exquisite?” He adds to the torment.

I groan, tossing my head back. This must count as torture. “Preferably, yes,” I request shortly.

We share a laugh at my annoyed reaction. He’s impossible! Even he should be mopping he still manages to tease me!

A comfortable silence fills the air and I stare down at the pillow in my lap as I play with the lettering on it.

________________________________

Masterlist

[enamoured-x]

Sweet Release

Angel Reyes x Reader

Summary: When Angel doesn’t make time for you, you make a hard choice. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Angst

Word count: 3k

Excerpt: “You couldn’t fake reaching literal heaven every time Angel sank inside you. But he didn’t deserve to hear that right now.”

*gif is mine!

a/n: so this came out of nowhere but i’m excited about it and there will be a part 2!!! i fucking missed writing for angel, so much so i may or many not open my requests back up again! keep an eye out for part 2 though!

Part 1

To say you were miserable was a gross understatement. And you couldn't even be mad about it because this was your doing. You were the reason you were wallowing everyday. You were the reason you had to take care of your own needs with a vibe that was nowhere near what you wanted. You were the maker of your own misery. But then again, were you really? Angel fucking Reyes should be the one to blame. When you first started dating Angel, everything was perfect, isn’t it always though? You were happier than you had ever been and honestly, you two were jumping each other's bones whenever you could. Up until a few months ago that was. 

Suddenly Angel just couldn’t make time anymore, always busy with the club. You knew with being secretary came a lot more responsibilities, and you were extremely proud of him and happy that he was able to move up in the club. What you weren’t happy about was the canceled dates. Hell, sometimes he wouldn’t even come over to spend the night, opting to stay at the club house in his dorm because he was taking care of shit as he liked to put it. You had grown exhausted waiting for him at restaurants and then looking stupid as you had to tell the waiters your date wasn’t showing up. You were exhausted of the food you put an effort into making going to waste because he wouldn’t show and when he did even the leftovers went untouched because he already ate. You were exhausted from the effort and time you put into stopping by the clubhouse, figuring if he couldn’t come to you that you’d go to him. But even those occasions were met with his quick words of I can’t hang out right now, club shit. So eventually you just had enough. He wasn’t putting in any effort and you deserved more than that. Deserved more than a few measly texts a day that didn’t even contain a simple I love you. And you told him as much when you went to the clubhouse for the sole purpose of getting your key back to your apartment and to tell him you were through. Lord knows if you tried to schedule a time to talk it would’ve inevitably gotten canceled. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Looking for Angel?” Ez had asked you as you pulled into the junkyard and exited your car. He was wiping grime off his hands with a cloth, looking like he was fixing up the bikes. 

“Yup. I’ll spoil the surprise for you now but I’m here to dump your brother.” You were annoyed to say the least, at your wits end with the older Reyes. You were also honestly a little mad at yourself for not doing this sooner. Could’ve saved you from looking pathetic out in public a few times. 

Ez’s eyes widened and he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Jesus, What happened?” He asked, taking on a sympathetic tone. You loved Ezekiel like your own brother. He was always looking out for you and had become a great friend since you started dating Angel. Which is why you could only hope you two could remain friends even after this. 

“I got tired of showing up for someone who isn’t willing to do the same.” You shrugged and then walked toward the house. Once inside you spotted Angel immediately, sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand as he talked with Coco and Gilly. So this was what he was doing instead of making time for you. They looked over at your presence and Angel stood up, a smile on his face. 

“Hey, querida. What are you doing here?” He said, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your temple. Honestly, it was more affection than you had gotten all month. You didn’t make any move to lean into him. 

“We need to talk.” Is all you said before Coco and Gilly awkwardly shared a look. 

“I’m a little busy, mam–”

“Yeah, life as secretario looks so fucking busy.” You snapped and he backed away to look at you. His face contorted in confusion and anger. 

“The fuck?” And that was Coco and Gilly’s cue to go outside, leaving just you and Angel. 

“I need my key back to my apartment.” You stated, getting right into it. Trying to mask what you were really feeling. This was already hurting like a bitch despite the trajectory of your relationship recently. You loved Angel, you really did. But you loved yourself enough to know that you didn’t deserve putting in your all in this relationship as he gave you nothing in return. 

“Come again?” He set his bottle down and gave you all his attention. That was a first. 

“My key. Give it back. I’m done with this.” You motioned between you two. You were being a little more petty than you wanted to be. Originally you had planned to just have a civil conversation about leaving him but he couldn’t even extend that courtesy with his shit poor excuses so why should you? Besides, there was nothing civil about you and Ange Reyes.

“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about?” He was angry, now getting the gist of what you were doing. 

“You heard me. We’re done. Give me my key back.” Angel shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. 

“Fuck no. I’m not giving you shit back, we’re not done. The fuck are you talking about? Where’s this shit coming from?” Of course it was just like Angel to try and control the situation, act like he was in charge. 

“You’re really asking me why?” You honestly don’t know how he could see this as a blindside. Honestly, he should be surprised you didn’t dump his ass sooner. 

“Mami, stop playing fucking games.” He stepped closer, eye simmering with rage. How ironic. 

“Angel, when was the last time we fucked?” You asked, trying to figure out how to gauge this conversation. Some part of you did want to just dump him and then leave, offering no explanation because the angry part of you felt like he didn’t deserve one. But maybe by explaining it you were doing a solid for the next girl that would come after you. Your heart restricted at the thought. Your stomach filling with lead. You pushed that away, now was not the time to sit in your grief, right now you were controlled by your anger and your disappointment. 

“Wha–I don’t know…” He trailed off thinking. Probably confused by your question and what it had to do with you leaving him. 

“Exactly. Angel, you’ve barely touched me this past month and I don’t have enough fingers to count how many times I’ve been stood up by you these past few weeks alone. You’re never around, Angel.” You pointed out. You felt your nose start to burn and you mentally cursed yourself for wanting to cry. You were supposed to put on this facade, you were supposed to act like you weren’t deeply devastated at the fact that you had to do this in the first place. But you were, sitting in your anger was only going to get you so far until that simmered out and the pain creeped in. 

“I told you I–”

“Your busy, yeah, I got that.” You quipped. He tried to grab your hand but you pulled it away and he scoffed. 

“You serious right now? I miss a few dates and you want to leave me? Nah, that’s not how this works. You talk to me about it.” 

“Talk? Are you fucking serious? When could I have talked to you, hmm? I’ve made plans with you three times this week alone and you flaked on all of them, it's not even fucking Friday. So when could I have talked to you? You don’t fucking care.” 

He stepped up to you and pointed at you, “do not say I don’t fucking care.” He was pissed, just now realizing the gravity of the situation. Just now realizing you weren’t fucking around. You were glad for it, maybe he’d take it seriously now. 

“You don’t. If you cared I wouldn’t be up late at night wondering if you’re okay because you didn’t bother to shoot me a text. If you cared I wouldn’t look like an idiot to half the fucking waiters in this town because you didn’t bother to show up. If you cared, Angel, I wouldn’t have to touch myself at night because my own man can’t bother to please me.” You knew you were getting through to him during your spiel but his stare turned murderous when you questioned his abilities to please you. Of course that was what got his attention. 

“The fuck you just say to me?” He towered over you now but you weren’t going to let him intimidate you. You were in charge of this situation, not him. 

“Which part needs repeating? When I said you keep standing me up or the part where I said you don’t please me in bed?” You fired back. Gone was the grief again, your rage taking its turn to control you once again. Your emotions were all over the place but so were you and Angel. 

“Careful, mami.” He said, voice low and threatening. You snorted.

“Why? Afraid your club will hear how you don’t know how to please a woman.” Next thing you know you were being shoved against the wall. Breath knocked out of you at the quick and forceful action. His hand latched onto your throat now. Your center throbbed, like a call to tell you that you needed this. You definitely didn’t want to but your fingers only did so much. 

It was all shit, Angel did know how to please you, that is when he could be bothered. But you knew how to press his buttons just right, how to make him angry like no one else could. And you wanted him upset, you wanted him angry because he had hurt you. 

“You know that’s not true. Had you screaming last time.” He said in your ear as he trailed his hands down your waist and to your ass. Pulling you closer to him to grind himself against you. You swallowed hard. You had missed his touch, had missed him being this close. Your senses were going haywire, not knowing which way was up or down, not knowing what the fuck you were here to do in the first place. All you could feel was him, all you could smell was him. All you wanted was him. But you knew right now you were thinking with your pussy and just because you wanted him still did not mean you didn’t want to break up with him. But your vibrator and fingers were doing a shit job at giving you what you needed, and well, if this was the end, you needed the release only Angel could provide you with. Despite you telling him only moments ago that he offered nothing in bed. 

“Maybe I was faking it.” You weren’t. You couldn’t fake reaching literal heaven every time Angel sank inside you. But he didn’t deserve to hear that right now. He squeezed your throat, bringing you a sense of euphoria. 

“Faking it? Yeah, let’s see you fake this, mami.” He unbuttoned your jeans and slid his hand inside your panties. You cursed yourself for being so wet already. 

“You wet because you’re faking it?” He asked, lips right at your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine and caused your core to clench around nothing. He felt it though. He laughed under his breath and you wanted to slap him for being so cocky after everything. But it wouldn’t matter once this was over. You’d let him have his fun now. Let him think he was in control one last time. 

“I don’t think so. You’re always wet for me, always so damn needy. Always so fucking ready to take me.” He turned you around and pushed you against the wall, pulling at your hips for your ass to grind against his crotch. His dick was already hard and straining in his pants. You let out a moan. You didn’t care that you were out in the open, didn’t care that his words pissed you off mostly because they were true. Didn’t care that this was going to be the last time. No, all you cared about in this moment was getting Angel inside you and coming around his cock. 

“Then fuck me, Angel. Prove you can actually please me.” You spurred him on. Needing your release already. Craving it. 

“My fucking pleasure.” He said, obviously not in the mood to drag this on any longer. He made quick work of yanking your jeans and panties down and you heard him fumbling with his own pants. You felt the tip of his cock slide against your slit, getting himself slicked for you with your juices. You moaned as the head nudged against your clit. Your body was on fire. The white hot need inside you, pooling in your stomach, was screaming for a release. And you were about to get one. 

“Fuck me already. Or did you forget how to do it?” You wanted it rough and hard, wanted him to leave bruises on your hips and feel you ache of him days later. You wanted something to remember him by. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Was all he said before slamming into you, filling you up. You screamed at the force and at how long it had been since he was last inside you. The stretch hurt so good and you pushed against the wall to meet his brutal thrusts. He wrapped a hand around your throat again as he dug his fingers into your hips, forcing you on his length over and over. 

“So fucking tight. This what you wanted, mami? So fucking desperate for my cock?” You whined at his words because they were true. But you didn’t want to admit it. 

“I want it harder actually.” You were hanging on by a thread here. All that pent up frustration from spoiled orgasms from your fingers to hating Angel for leaving you high and dry. It was all coming together to create a thunderous symphony of emotions, one that was about to hit its crescendo. 

Angel didn’t disappoint as he pounded you from behind, trying to reach his release as desperately as you were trying to reach yours. The hand that was on your throat immediately made way to your clit.

“Fuck, Angel.” You cried out as he rubbed the numb, never relenting in his pace. Tears were forming in your eyes. From the stimulation or from the breakup that was still going to happen, you didn’t know. All you knew right now was Angel. 

“Fuck, yeah. Gonna come, mami? Gonna come on my dick?” You grabbed his arm to roll your hips both on his fingers and back onto his cock. Pleasure was hitting you from all angles and you were about to break. You clenched down on him, wanting him to reach his release too. Wanting to feel him fill you up. 

“Oh fuck!” He yelled out as you clenched around him. He bit your shoulder to control himself and you groaned at the sting that accompanied his bite. It was all too much and not enough. Which was sign enough that you were right on the precipice. 

“Gonna come.” You barely got the words out, mind too wrapped up in literally everything else. Everywhere Angel was touching. 

“Do it. Let me hear you.” He rubbed just right on the bundle of nerves as his cock pistoned inside you and you were done for. You dived right off that cliff. Your back arched as you screamed his name. Your vision went black for a moment as you fucking drowned in your high. Angel diving right in after you as you felt him spill inside you and curse your name. You finally came back to the present, catching your breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm started to fade in waves. You suddenly became aware of the situation again. Became aware of why you were here. As mind blowing as that climax was, it didn’t change anything. You turned around as you lifted your pants back up, Angel doing the same. Once he finished buttoning them you pulled him in for a kiss. Putting everything you had into it, what was left of your energy. He kissed you back with the same intensity and you cursed him because this was all you had been asking for. For him to love you, for him to give you something. But he didn’t and this was not going to change anything. 

As his tongue slipped into your mouth, you slid your hand into his back pocket and pulled out his keys and pulled away from him. He was confused until you backed up from him and started to unhook your key from his key ring. 

“What the fuck….” Of course he was confused, of course he thought sex was going to fix this. You pushed the keys against his chest and he held your hand against his chest, realizing what was happening, what was still happening.

“No…” He shook his head, realization dawning on him that the sex was one last sweet release before you left. A goodbye. Not a makeup. 

“Don’t do this shit. Don’t do this to me, baby.” He shook his head, eyes glossy. Words breaking. Your heart cracked, gone was the intense high he just gave you and instead there you were, right back in the low of it all. 

“You did this to yourself, Angel. Goodbye.” You swallowed hard and tugged your hand out of his grasp, he let out a breath. You turned around and walked out the door with your head high. Walked out leaving him behind to deal with what just happened. Walked out and into the shit storm that was going to be the next few weeks of getting over one Angel Reyes. 

[honeymilkk00]

Haikyuu Boys: You Flinch

yooooo so my first post on tumblr,,, kinda scary but here goes nothing. if the characters are too ooc i apologise but it’s because this is my first time writing a haikyuu one shot. also i’m fucking obsessed with angst to comfort hmu with some good ones (hopefully i haven’t read them). also pleaseeeee this isn’t an attack on the reader, you all are so fucking gorgeous. i’m trying to write this angst with my personal insecurities in mind so it can be more realistic. remember to drink water and eat 3 meals a day.

characters:

-tanaka

-ushijima

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

Tanaka

Recently, you had noticed a strain in your and Tanaka’s relationship. Of course, you were always pretty self-conscious in the relationship- he always hung out with Kiyoko when he went to practise and spoke about her like she was a goddess.

That didn’t mean you didn’t like Kiyoko. In fact, you looked up to her a lot, heeding her advice every time she spoke to you. But, who wouldn’t be insecure? Kiyoko was everything you were not. She was smart, she was pretty, she was organised, and she had a great personality to go with it. Sometimes, you’d sit thinking that maybe Tanaka would be happier with her. 

And today was one of those days. It was lunch and, as usual, Tanaka was at practise. You didn’t mind and grew pretty accustomed to it, often sitting to the side of the sports hall, watching and cheering. You were happy that your boyfriend had such a deep interest in something. 

As you sat next to the coach, taking small bites out of an apple, you noticed Tanaka’s wondering gaze. Following his eyes, you frowned slightly when you noticed him staring at Kiyoko with a small blush on his face. An uneasy feeling in your gut made you stop eating, just watching. When Tanaka walked over to her and tucked her hair behind her ear after helping her pick up spare balls, you felt bile rise in your throat. Suffocating. It felt like suffocating as you watched your boyfriend touch and blush around your friend whilst right in front of you. 

Biting your lip nervously, you packed away your lunch and stood up. There was still 10 minutes left of lunch. If Tanaka asked, you could’ve dismissed it as simply wanting to get to class early. Nodding to Coach Ukai and Daichi, you swiftly exited the sports hall and walked to your next lesson.

_

Somehow, you had avoided Tanaka for the rest of the day. You knew you were probably overreacting, but the way he looked at her with such a loving gaze made you feel sick. He didn’t even look at you with that much compassion, and you were his girlfriend. 

So, you slung your backpack over your shoulders and made your way home. Normally, you would walk with your boyfriend, but not today. It was silent without Tanaka making small comments here and there and laughing. Insecure thoughts filled your mind, and, with no one to distract you from them, you listened.

You listened to every single thought that crossed your mind.

Why were you not pretty enough?

Why did Tanaka love Kiyoko more than he loved you?

Why were you so petty?

Why were you running away instead of talking to him?

Why were you not good enough?

You swallowed the bile that slowly rose in your throat and looked down at your hands that clenched together.

Just get over it. You can’t be better than her. 

A hand placed on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. Swiftly, you head diverted to look at whoever touched you right in the eyes. 

Shit.

“Hey, you’ve been ignoring me since lunch. Did something happen? Why are you walking home without me?” Tanaka let go of your shoulder and raised a curious brow at you.

You weren’t ready to talk to him yet.

Forcing a smile, you looked down at your hands instead of his gaze-his piercing gaze that left you weak and helpless. “Nothing is wrong,” you started, pausing for a second to recollect your thoughts. “I just wanted to get to class quickly after lunch... And I was walking home by myself because I have a lot of homework to do.” You lied smoothly, but of course, Tanaka saw through it.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Tanaka sighed and tilted his head, “are you going to tell your boyfriend the truth or continue to lie straight to my face? We’re partners- a team- you’re meant to trust me and communicate. Wasn’t it you who said that was important?” His voice gradually got louder with every sentence, his patience wearing thin. 

You looked back at him and opened your mouth, before closing it. Of course, trust and communication is key in relationships but... Your eyes glanced up at Tanaka. Opening your mouth again, you spoke, “It’s just...” You started and licked your lips, taking a deep breath, “You seem to be close with Kiyoko. Very close..” You whispered the last bit, but he still caught it. 

Clenching his fists, Tanaka frowned, “well excuse me, but she’s been my friend longer than I’ve dated you. I don’t see why it’s an issues now.” His voice was firm and loud, making you shrink into yourself.

“I get that, I do. But you can’t just get all close like blushing and tucking her hair behind her ear when you’re in a relationship.” You tried to reason with him. Yes, you know they were friends longer than you and Tanaka had been in a relationship and you respected that. That was why you never mentioned anything before. 

Tanaka made a ‘tch’ sound and took in a deep breath, glaring down at you. Like this, he looked like an alpha- strong, in charge, dominant. In normal circumstances, you might’ve blushed or even squirmed, but in this situation, all you felt was your fight or flight impulse going crazy. “Well I’m sorry, but just because you’re insecure about yourself doesn’t mean you can be a selfish bitch! Grow up (Y/n)!”

That was what made you snap.

“Excuse me!? Tanaka, you told me to communicate and so I did, but when I do my opinions and feelings are immediately shut down!? I’m not saying you can’t be friends with Kiyoko! You can! Just please don’t keep touching her intimately because it makes me think you’d rather be with her!” You shouted back.

Letting out a deep growl, Tanaka leaned over you with a menacing glare and quickly lifted his hand, which made you flinch violently and close your eyes tightly, lifting you arms to shield yourself. 

Snapping out of his rage, Tanaka’s eyes widened.

You flinched. You flinched at him.

Did you seriously think he was going to hit you? 

Taking a shaky breath, he gently placed a hand on your cheek, which made you flinch more and slowly open your eyes to look into his. Your eyes held nothing but pure fear. You couldn’t help it- Tanaka was big, strong and intimidating. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“Please don’t look at me like that, baby.. I’m sorry.. I’ll never hit you.” Tanaka whispered softly and pulled you in for a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry I scared you like that..” He murmured lightly.

Shakily, you took a breath, letting your tears slip down your cheeks. “Ngh.. ‘M sorry I annoyed you Tana...” You whispered softly, crying into his shoulder. “’M just... Scared. Kiyoko is beautiful and has the best personality and I’m just... Me.” You admitted, finally calming down when you realised that Tanaka would never ever hurt you, no matter how much you angered him.

Tanaka’s eyes softened and he gently stroke your hair. “Exactly. You’re you. That’s why I love you, baby.” He whispered gently and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

Slowly, you leaned into his touch more, “Okay...”

Tanaka sighed gently, “I didn’t realise I was being too touchy with her, but I’ll stop for you baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled weakly back.

“Icecream?” He asked.

“Please.”

__________________________________

Ushijima

You always knew volleyball was his passion. It was his everything, and you respected that. 

Still though, when you became his girlfriend, you thought that maybe you’d at least tie with volleyball in importance. However, you soon realised three months into the relationship that what you believed didn’t seem to be the case. In fact, it seemed as if you were more of a chore for Ushijima than something he enjoyed spending his time on. 

Eventually, it all got too much.

You watched him practise from the side-lines, frowning since he barely even glanced at you, let alone said hello. Of course, you didn’t mind. He was focused on practising, so it would make sense if he didn’t acknowledge you.

Ushijima paused his practise to get a small drink and you took this opportunity to encourage him and drop off his lunch since he had a tendency to forget his. “Ushi, you’re doing so-” You started, but was soon cut off by your blunt lover.

“(Y/N), can’t you see I’m focusing right now? I’ll talk later, but right now volleyball is all that matters. You’re irrelevant right now.” He retorted swiftly, before shrugging you off and going back to practise his spikes. 

Biting your lip slightly, you swallowed thickly and looked down at your feet in shame. Those words hurt, even if they weren’t the most aggressive. Maybe he did only see you as a burden. The thought made you shiver and deepen your frown. The last thing you wanted was to hold your boyfriend back, even if it hurt you. Taking one last glance at Ushijima, you set his lunch down by his bottle and turned away, hiding the tears in your eyes by looking at the ground. 

It felt as if someone was squeezing your heart in your chest, and a lump soon formed in your throat. You choked on a sob and headed home, turning off your phone completely. 

Once you had reached the comfort of your house, you collapsed on your bed and sobbed silently into a pillow, curling tightly into a small ball. 

_

You were unsure as to how long you had been crying for, but you soon awoke from a slumber when you felt the bed dip and a large arm wrap around your waist. Biting your lip, you turned your head to come face to face with Ushiwaka. “Ushi...” You whispered quietly.

“My love, you have been crying. Your eyes are red and puffy.” He stated and frowned lightly. “What happened?” The male gently brushed his thumb against your hip, caressing it tenderly.

Tensing up, you sat up and pushed his hand away lightly. “Ushijima..” You started and looked down, clenching your fists together. “Is volleyball really that important to you..?” You whispered out, barely loud enough for him to hear.

The brute frowned and also sat up, narrowing his eyes slightly, “(Y/N), why are you so annoyed over my passion?” He asked and let out a scoff. “What, are you jealous of a ball? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” Ushijima’s voice raised slightly, but he soon shut up when he noticed you flinch and sink deeper into the bed. 

You avoided eye contact from your lover and gripped the sheets tightly in your hand, “’M sorry..” You whispered out as tears filled your vision. “Maybe I am being ridiculous.. I just think that...” You choked on a sob. “That you’d be better off with someone else. All I seem to do is hold you back from doing what you love. ‘M just a pain..” Hurt filled your voice and you swallowed thickly.

Ushijima’s eyes widened slightly and he frowned, gently taking your hands into his large ones. “Darling... You are all I want. I am sorry if those comments I said earlier made you feel insecure, but I truly do care for you. You are the only person I want in my life.” Gently, he placed his forehead on yours and kissed away your tears. “You are anything but a pain, my love.”

Looking into your boyfriend’s eyes, you smiled lightly and pressed your lips against his delicately. “You’re forgiven, Ushi..”

[hanatiny]

Bow To Your King

gif made by @/wooyoungs~

a/n: so uhh, I don’t know how to a) keep a schedule and b) contain myself... but I happened to be inspired by @galaxteez, so enjoy :)))

pairing: demon king!Hongjoong x f!reader

genre: smut

word count: 1952

warnings: sir kink, choking, marking/biting, exhibitionism, oral (m receiving), corruption kink, hair pulling, a lil bit of thigh riding, (vaguely?) implied breeding kink, implied minor oral fixation, strongly implied voyeurism, lots of praise and pet names, but also Joong is rough 😳

-----

If the you from a year ago knew what you were up to now, she’d laugh at you - and she’d have every right to. After all, somehow getting mixed up in underworld business and ending up as the demon king’s “prized possession” was certainly neither on your list of things to do in life, nor particularly believable.

No matter the circumstance he did love you to bits though, and he made sure you knew by whatever means he had.

But alas, here you were.

Kneeling on the ice-cold stone floor in front of Hongjoong’s throne, not obscured by anything in any way as you held his throbbing hard length in your warm mouth.

He gazed down at you, his eyes shining a bright red with desire while his hand tangled in your hair and you moved your head at a steady rhythm.

Neither of you paid any mind to your surroundings, lost in your mutual delight of each other as he let out soft moans of praise and your mind grew hazy.

"Ahh, you're taking me so well in your wet mouth baby...~ I'm gonna-"

He cut himself off and paused the bucking of his hips suddenly, forcibly stilling you with a tight grip on your hair as you whined in both confusion and frustration around his twitching cock.

Frustrated from having been denied the feeling of his hot cum sliding down your throat, confused because you missed the sound of the large door to the throne room creaking open just moments ago, so you didn’t understand why he stopped so abruptly.

You glanced up at your lover with teary eyes, his own furious ones focused on whoever seemed to have so rudely disrupted your moment of intimacy.

"I-I apologize for intruding sire, I didn't know... I just wanted to ask if-"

"If what, Seonghwa? If Y/n would sleep with you too, huh? Is that it?" Hongjoong interrupted the man in question with a snarl, glowering at him as his cheeks flushed crimson in response and he nodded sheepishly.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue loudly, "Fool! I suspect the other court members feel the same?" He left Seonghwa no time to collect his thoughts, already aware of the truth, "Bring them here, I want all of you to see how a king treats his princess."

You squirmed at his feet from the commanding yet eerily calm tone of his voice and the lack of hesitation in it, seeing no reason whatsoever to object while he carefully pulled you back up to your feet and onto his lap to straddle him, a sharp contrast to his previous treatment of Seonghwa, the poor guy nearly stumbling over his own two feet as he hurried to find the other six men as requested.

Despite his dark and rough exterior Hongjoong was mostly a soft and tender lover, to your initial surprise.

Only this time around, you had a feeling he wasn't going to be gentle.

Yet you didn’t mind in the slightest - on the contrary, you secretly loved whenever he treated you with a sense of possessive, inhumane ownership in bed. Everytime he did, you felt a little bit of your innocence slipping away, arousal already growing within you at the thought.

Hongjoong cooed quietly, breaking you out of your reverie, silently asking you if you were truly okay with what he was planning to do as he tenderly carressed your cheek. You nodded immediately, a smile growing on your face and your heart skipping a beat at his thoughtfulness while you leaned into his touch.

It was one of the many things you loved about him, you mused, how he'd sometimes show his care through the little things. You didn’t know you needed that in a person until you met him.

"You look like you're daydreaming again, darling. Are you sure you're alright~?"

You blushed as Hongjoong teased you, choosing to grasp his dark messy tresses in your hands and press your lips against his heatedly, prompting the immediate reaction of a pleased hum sounding in his throat and his hands gripping your waist tightly before he eventually broke off the contact.

Your pupils were blown wide with lust as you panted softly and blinked at him, seeing the way he was licking his lips before they shifted into a wicked predatory smirk, "Getting eager, hm? Really wanna show off how good you are for me, don't you princess~?"

His eyes flashed red again, darkness simultaneously coloring them as he gave you the simple command of "Strip," and left you speechless in the process while you scrambled to climb off of his lap obediently and do as told, the promise of your lover's rough treatment fueling your actions.

Hongjoong watched you with satisfaction and amusement both glimmering in his dark gaze as he thought back to how he had to convince you to let him kiss you just a few months ago, and by now you stripped at a mere snap of his fingers.

He had you putty in his hands and he positively adored this level of control he had over you when it came to the sexual aspects of your relationship.

You observed Hongjoong as he curled his finger in a 'come hither' motion, shocked by how casual he appeared as he did so - if you didn't know any better, you'd be saying he was about to meet with his advisors - and you climbed back onto him.

Your already dripping heat pressed against his thigh while you gasped and grinded against him briefly before he made you still as he flexed it beneath you, "Sir, w-what are you doing..?"

"What does it feel like hm~? I'm just making sure my beautiful princess is ready for what's to come~" He purred seductively, forcing your core to rub against his thigh more with his hands on your hips as his cock twitched slightly at how visible your enjoyment was.

"And I believe that you are~" In a swift and skilled motion, almost as if practiced, Hongjoong turned you around to face the wide throne room instead of himself and promptly impaled you on his dick.

A loud and whiny moan left you while he nipped lightly on your earlobe, "As much as I love seeing your beautiful angelic face contort in pleasure whenever I take you, I believe I should indulge them too... just this once~"

His tone was sultry and, combined with him stretching you so deliciously, instinctively made you screw your eyes shut upon realizing you once again, in your dazed state of mind, hadn't heard the door opening for the seven men now staring at the scene before them with their eyes wide and mouths agape, a few of them even sporting noticeable bulges in their pants already.

"Princess... Sir thought his instructions were clear." Hongjoong growled lowly near your ear, a hand wrapping around and applying pressure to your throat, coaxing a strained cry to fall from your lips while your eyes flew open again.

"I-I'm sorry, you were more than crystal clear..." You choked out in a mewl, refusing to meet anyone's gaze directly as his hips remained unmoving and the thumb of his free hand traced featherlight circles on your thigh.

You shuddered slightly on top of him as he gave an experimental thrusts upwards into you, his hand squeezing your throat with precisely the right amount of force behind the action when you moaned quietly. "Good girl...~ Why don't you let them hear how good you are too, hm?"

"Y-yes sir..~ ah!" You squealed in surprise as you felt Hongjoong's lips suddenly latching onto the soft skin of your neck, locating your sweet spot almost immediately.

Highly pleased, he hummed and made a point of locking eyes with each present member of his court, his own orbs continuing to flicker a passionate red, while he sank his teeth into the sensitive spot near your collarbone.

It felt different, more intense than the normal hickeys he had given you plenty of before now. It throbbed lightly when he lathed his tongue over the newly formed bruise that practically burned itself into your skin, and you realized it'd be permanent.

He smirked against your skin when you cried out in both pain and pleasure and the other men's eyes went wide in surprise.

He was giving you the demon mark.

Your walls clenched involuntarily around his length as you whined from the sensation on your neck.

You were his queen in all but official title now.

Hongjoong pulled away with a low hiss, pulling your body back and flush against his with the hand still wrapped tightly around your throat while careful to not cut your airflow off entirely, "Shit... seems like you really enjoy that huh? Sir is all too happy to oblige, babygirl~"

It was when he started roughly snapping his hips into you that you reached your breaking point, eyes rolling back into your head as it lolled forward from the amount of pleasure flooding your system while you whimpered pitifully loudly.

"Feels good when sir uses you, doesn't it? You're so beautifully snug around me, looking all fucked out already...~ But I believe I didn't allow this, doll." Your lover whispered threateningly, his free hand snaking up your bare back before grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking on it harshly, causing you to throw your head back with the most erotic moan yet while he showed no signs of letting go.

You mindlessly babbled out a breathy apology as he twitched within you and proceeded to decorate your neck with heated kisses and small love bites, "Ah, I'm-I'm sorry sir, princess just feels so good thanks t-to you~!"

"Queen," he corrected softly, only for you to hear before he grins sadistically with a strained groan, "if you keep tightening around me like that I'll have no choice but to cum already... Though you'll be good and take all of sir's load as you always do, I'm sure~"

You keened at the thought, body arching and presenting itself to your 'guests' when Hongjoong's hand around your throat let up in favor of dipping downwards to pinch and rub circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.

"I knew it, you're just my precious, good little girl...~" He cooed while you gasped for air as he pressed his tip harder into the bundle of nerves that formed your sweet spot.

You finally couldn't take it any longer, your body convulsing above that of the demon sitting beneath you as he continued to fuck into you roughly before he stilled and released deep inside of you before wrapping his arms around your still shaking form to help you come down from your high, “Shh... I’ve got you, babydoll.”

You gave a soft hum filled with adoration in response as your lover’s attention switched over to the seven other men in the room, who you had admittedly almost forgotten were there, and your gaze followed his.

Although, now that you were a little more level-headed and not as deep in the throes of bliss as you had been before you could clearly see the stunned silence in their faces and the effect your impromptu show had on them in both their eyes and the tents in their pants, which they desperately tried to hide by means of their large coats - a futile endeavor.

A satisfied and proud grin spread across your features when Hongjoong addressed his court, a flicker of amusement visible in his eyes.

"Now, before you all leave... Bow to your king and queen. As weak in the knees as you are, that shouldn't pose much of a challenge~"

------

Taglist:

@nightqueennyx @truebluejoong @yunhoes-twancings-nsfw @yunhoiseyecandy​

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Yes ! Can you maybe do an imagine where the reader breaks up with Will because they dont think they’re good enough for him ?? But with a happy ending where they get back together because he really wants to be with them

Of course, sweet Anon!😊 Man, y'all really love angst lmao In retrospect, this might be a bit too angsty😬I blame Bo Burnham's Inside

This imagine is going to be really depressing, like a lot. There will be mentions of attempted suicide and self harm so, SEVERE TRIGGER WARNING.

~~~~~~~~~~

It had been over a year since you broke up with Will.

You'd never felt more depressed in your life, but you thought it was the right decision at the time. What bullshit that turned out to be...

Your crippling insecurity forced your mind to think you didn't deserve to have someone as amazing as Will, he was so thoughtful and you were so, well, so dependent.

You weren't in the best stage of your life when you met Will, you were in a really dark place and you had even more trouble getting out of it. You haven't really made much progress since then, but you tried.

You just wanted to feel better for once. Every day, you just felt like you were drowning and taking Will with you.

He was your rock, and he made sure that he was right beside you every time you felt bad. Of course, being an actor, he had to go away sometimes and you always told him that you'd be fine. You weren't, of course, but you were always so happy for him whenever he'd book a film or TV show because it made him happy.

There were days you just felt numb, mostly when Will wasn't with you. Those days you'd just lay in your bed, sob uncontrollably until the exhaustion would put you to sleep.

Will felt helpless, and you could always see it on his face. He was worried about you, he wanted to help you, but it wasn't something that he could change or do anything about. Him worrying about you day and night made you feel even worse, that was not what you wanted for him. He deserved to be with something that lifted him up and encouraged him, not someone who's depressing all the time and unintentionally bringing him down with them. No...you didn't want that for him at all.

It was inevitable, but it didn't make it any easier to break up with him.

Will's heartbroken face would forever be engrained in your mind, but you kept telling yourself it was in his best interest.

You cried the hardest you ever cried in your entire life. You loved him so much, you didn't want to let him go, but you couldn't let your toxicity ruin his life. And you honestly thought that it would get better in time, but it only made your mental state deteriorate ever more.

One night, when the pain got too hard to handle, you took and broke your shaving razors, taking out the blades.

In hindsight, you really wished you hadn't, you felt embarrassed about it for the longest time. But trying to look on the bright side, it did force you to finally get the professional help you needed. Therapy, medication, the whole nine yards. You kicked yourself for not getting yourself help sooner, because you felt better now that you were going to therapy.

You still struggled a lot, but you knew once you found the right medication, it would become more bearable, and it did eventually. It took a lot of hard work.

You thought about Will a lot, what he was up to, if he found someone else that he loved. The thought was painful, but all you wanted for him was to find true happiness.

One day, you decided to go out to a coffee shop one morning, as opposed to just Postmateing yourself like you normally did. Your therapist did say you needed to get out more, so you took their advice.

You walked through town, a simple little coffee shop catching your eye. The name sounded familiar to you, though you couldn't quite place why. You didn't think you'd been to this place before, you usually made your own coffee, but you wanted to give it a try.

The light ring of a bell filled your ears as you opened the front door. It was a really cold morning, so the warm heat hitting your skin and inhaling the strong smell of coffee and freshly made bakeries put a small smile on your face.

You were thankful that there wasn't a line, possibly to early in the morning, maybe you got there before the usual early birds. Though looking around, it was a small place, only a few book readers scattered amongst the small tables that were set up opposite of the counter where you ordered.

While waiting for your coffee, a wall full of art caught your eye. You walked closer to look at all the pieces, all of them painted by customers. Hmm, cute...

You didn't really acknowledge the bell ringing once more, signaling an arrival of another customer, to focused on the pretty art.

"Hey!" You heard one of the workers say cheerfully, probably addressing the new customer. "Your usual, Will?"

Your smile dropped. Ha, what are the odds, right?

"Yep, of course. Thank you."

Then, your heart dropped.

You recognized that voice anywhere. Now you knew why this shop sounded so familiar, it was Will's favorite place to get coffee, he had mentioned it to you before. Of course, of all the coffee places in town, you had to pick this one.

You slowly turned around, your heart beating out of your chest and almost coming to a complete stop once you laid eyes on his face. That face you always thought about, even in your dreams. "Wi-"

"Y/n!" You cringed as the coffee shop worker called out your name, telling you that your coffee was ready.

Will immediately snapped his gaze over to you, clearly having trouble believing it was actually you. You stood there awkwardly, having a hard time reading his expression. Was he mad? Sad? Happy?

"Y/n." Will almost whispered, taking a couple steps closer to you.

Will looked the same, just as handsome as when you last saw him. His eyes were locked onto you, looking you over in awe. He thought you looked so much healthier now, but always thinking that you look stunning, no matter the circumstance.

"How...how are you?" Will started, a small smile finally stretching across his lips. "You look," He chuckled softly, "amazing."

You looked down slightly when your face started to burn, all of your blood seeming to rush right to your face from one simple compliment. "Thank you." You said sheepishly. "You look amazing too, as usual."

Now it was Will's turn to blush, his easy to spot with his fair complexion. "Uh, do you wanna, maybe, sit down? Or we could go somewhere else, if you want to, that is. Don't feel pressured or anything." He rambled.

You smiled. "Yeah, sure." You grabbed your coffee and joined Will at the table he chose to sit at. "So, uh, how've you been?" You asked, taking tiny sips of your hot drink.

"Good, good. I'll be filming a new project soon, so that'll be fun." Will paused for a beat, then sighing despairingly . "I've been, uh, thinking about you. A lot."

"I've been thinking about you too."

"I kinda lied. I am filming something soon but, I haven't been good. Ever since we broke up, life just...kind of feels a bit grey now."

You frowned, biting your lip hard to keep tears from welling up in your eyes. "I'm sorry, Will..." You whispered. "I thought you'd be better off without me to drag you down. I was such a burden."

Will furrowed his brows, shaking his head with a frown. "No. You weren't dragging me down, I loved you, Y/n. I would've done anything for you. I know that you struggled a lot with your mental health, but I wanted to be with you through all that. I never thought you were a burden, not for a second."

"I just," You wiped an unwanted tear from your cheek, "I don't think I was ready to be in a relationship then. I've been working really hard on my health and now that I have a clearer mindset, I think it was probably for the best that I broke up with you when I did."

Will took a deep breath. "I respect that. I do. I'm happy for you, that you're better now. I don't want this to come off as selfish...but I still love you. I want to be with you. But I understand if you can't be in a relationship right now. I'll wait for you, as long as it takes if you'll let me."

You blushed furiously once more. At this point, you practically wanted to throw yourself at this man. You didn't care if it didn't work out again, you still wanted him, badly.

"I still love you too, Will. Always have."

Will smiled softly. "I don't want you to be my partner again if you're not ready."

"I don't know if I am, I'm still working on myself, but...goddamn I wanna kiss you so bad right now." You said, eliciting another blush and a shy laugh from Will.

You answered him by leaning forward slowly, rubbing your nose against his before gent as you smiled widely at him, leaning closer. You almost shivered as his cold hands reached over to delicately trace your jawline, the gesture automatically putting you in a sort of trance where you could only look into his eyes.

"I really want to kiss you." Will giggled, fully cupping the side of your jaw. "May I?"

You answered him by leaning forward slowly, rubbing your nose against his before gently connecting your lips with his.

Over a year of wanting and missing Will, you ignored your dislike of PDA, you've needed this for so long. The spark you always felt when you kissed him was still there, still giving you goosebumps along with an intense desire you definitely couldn't act on in this coffee shop.

Will pulled away, only to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes closed just relishing in the moment. "I've missed you so much."

"Me too." You chuckled breathlessly.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to rush back into things. We can take it slow if that's what you want."

This man was always such a gentleman, but it just made you even more eager to take him home with you.

"Right now, I don't think I'm capable of taking things slow." You said, a almost seductive tone to your voice.

Will smiled playfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's absolutely not taking things slow."

"How about we go to my place? Make up all the lost time?" You asked not as confidently, the feeling of rejection making you nervous, but Will smiled gently, taking a hold of your hand and kissing you once more.

"Lead the way."

~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed! Hopefully it wasn't too depressing and dark in the beginning.

[tommysparker]

Never Forget You [Chapter 4]

A/N: hey y’all. just wanna say sorry for the posting schedule change. life is about to get hella hectic with school and the move sooo yeah. every second Saturday I will be posting! it’ll defiantly give me a chance to write more as well so im not rushing out chapters. anyways ive rambled long enough, enjoy :) 

Warnings: angst. theres fluff too but its fluffy angst?? im not sorry hehe. long italic paragraphs = flashbacks. 

From an outside perspective, one would assume the four of them were deep in thought, perhaps even communicating telepathically via the Force. They would only be half correct, as all of the Jedi were indeed thinking, but none of their trains of thought overlapped.  

Anakin and Ahoska were in the pilot seats, glancing at each other every other minute or so. They could feel the tension build thicker with every passing planet. The only sound filling the room was the faint running of the engine that kept the ship moving. 

You and Obi-Wan sat across from each other, neither one daring to make eye contact. Apparently, he was quite serious about the “not speaking from now on” agreement. It’s for the best, you kept telling yourself. However, the awkward silence that filled the ship made it harder to believe that. 

Out of all the things that could happen to you at the moment, this was by far the worst. 

On Gyfil, you had grown quite used to the sound of silence. In fact, over time you began to prefer it as opposed to the buzz of the towns. However, this was a different type of silence, one that had you bouncing your knee in anticipation for Anakin to announce you finally landed. 

Master Yoda had called you all for a mission briefing. There was a supposed Separatist group meeting on Ostor, given the intel you received from a client on your previous mission. The four of you were sent to listen in on it. 

“Young Skywalker and Padawan Tano, back up you will be. Great risks on Ostor, there are. Careful, you must be.” He turned to Obi-Wan and You. “Master Y/l/n, guide them you must do. In charge of the mission, I am putting you.” 

A sense of pride filled your body but you quickly humbled yourself. “Thank you Master.” 

Master Yoda smiled and turned to Obi-Wan. “Infiltrate the meeting, you and Master Y/l/n will. Stay together, you must.” 

Obi-Wan would have laughed at the irony. Mentally he still is. Stay together, you must. After the last conversation between the two of you, he had doubts about how that plan would go. However, for the sake of the mission he was willing to lift the deal made. 

You stood quietly, not being able to handle the loud silence any longer. “I’ll be in my quarters until we land,” you announced, making a point not to look at Obi-Wan and keep all attention to Anakin and Ahsoka. 

You left without sparing a glance back. 

He waited until you were out of view to let out a long sigh, running a hand over his beard and hunching forward. 

Anakin was the first to speak. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever had to endure.” His shoulders shook as he made a disgusted sound. “Glad it’s finally over.” 

“Just focus on getting us there in one piece, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snapped, immediately followed by, “apologizes, I didn’t mean to sound so...aggressive.” 

“So much for being able to hide stress, huh?” 

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Some things are harder to deal with than others.” 

“Is Master Y/l/n ‘some things’?” Ahoska asked innocently. 

Obi-Wan pondered for a minute, deciding the best way to answer. “Master Y/l/n is...many things.” 

“Like what?” 

Gorgeous. Strong. Kind. Perfect in every way. “They are highly skilled, almost as well as I am, if not better. A fine Jedi and a valuable member to the Order.” He stopped there before he’d say something he’d come to regret. Best to keep professional thoughts. 

“I still don’t understand why the Council sent them away like that. Surely there were other Jedi that could have completed the mission,” Anakin commented. He knew his former Master wasn’t satisfied with the answer they were all given but would never admit it. He had to push him to find the truth. 

“Whatever reasons Master Yoda and Master Windu had for picking Y/n are between them. You must stop questioning the Council’s intentions, Anakin. It will land you in very big trouble one day.” Obi-Wan says as if he hasn’t second guessed the Order as a whole before. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. The less you question things, the easier life is. 

“That’s why I keep you around, old man,” Anakin said in a teasing manner. Hearing Obi-Wan let out a light chuckle made him feel a bit better as they settled into silence once more, this time more comfortable and light-hearted. 

A bit more time had passed before Ahsoka spoke up. “Why don’t you ask Master Y/l/n what really happened?” 

Obi-Wan sighed. He should have known better than to believe she would drop the topic. Like Master, like Padawan. “It’s none of my business. Frankly, it’s none of ours so I suggest we leave the subject alone.” 

His answer, apparently, wasn’t good enough. “I’m gonna go ask them.” Ahsoka stands up to leave but is stopped mid-movement by Obi-Wan’s protests. 

“No!” He looked at Ahsoka’s slightly stunned face, and chose to ignore Anakin’s smug look. “Fine, I’ll ask them. But only once, and if they don’t want to indulge me then that is the end of it. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Crystal.” 

Meanwhile, you sat alone on the bed in your chosen quarters. It made you feel relaxed, in a way. Before leaving, you were extremely extraverted, always going out of your way to make acquaintances with everyone around you. The life forces around you at night kept you alive, it gave a sense of warmth and comfort to lull you to slumber. On Gyfil, there was none of that. You had to rely on your own warmth to comfort yourself to sleep. No lush trees or animals to provide even the smallest bit of connection. It was just You and the Force. Sleeping for the first time in the Jedi Temple after returning felt like a sensory overload. Everything was loud, and rough. You could feel it coursing through your veins at the speed of light. No matter what you did, it was too much. 

You didn’t sleep the first few days. Eventually you got used to the noise, but not enough to get a decent amount of rest at night. There was one sound that sometimes made it impossible to sleep, one Force signature that kept trying to break through the walls you put up to protect yourself when you’re most vulnerable. What scared you the most was the fact your own signature subconsciously fought back against the walls you put. You refused to acknowledge it, choosing to fall into a deep meditative slumber and stay alert as opposed to any actual sleep. Whoever it was would not get into your head so easily. 

Knock knock. Obi-Wan stepped into the room once his presence was made known, gently shutting the door behind him. “Y/n…” 

You looked up and squinted at him. “I thought we agreed to not speak?” 

“Yes, well, that proves to be a bit tricky now doesn’t it?” He smiled tightly and crossed his arms over his chest. 

You huffed out air in a sorry attempt at a sarcastic laugh, shaking your head a little. “What do you want, Obi-Wan?” 

It was neither hostile nor endearing. It was simply his first name. To him you sounded tired, and judging by the way you sat on the cot, leaning back against the cold metal wall with your eyes half opened, he presumed his assumption was correct. He spoke gently, “Anakin estimates we should be coming out of hyperspace and landing soon.” 

“I figured.” It wasn’t your intention to be stoic but that's how you’ve been training yourself to speak to the man in front of you. The faster the conversation ends, the faster he leaves. 

Obi-Wan, however, was not having it. “How are you feeling? I know it hasn’t been that long since you returned from your previous assignment.” 

You shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fine.” 

“No one who says that is ever truly ‘fine’ Y/n/n,” he says, taking a step closer to the bed. “I know you. What’s on your mind, darling?” 

You slowly met his gaze, debating whether to open up or keep yourself closed off. On one hand, the idea of exposing your anxieties to someone didn’t feel right to you, letting someone know about your weaknesses and insecurities. However, you knew in order for the mission to succeed you would have to be willing to work with Obi-Wan and to do that a sense of trust had to be built. Rebuilt, technically. 

“If you wish not to speak, I understand.” He hesitated turning his back to you, “excuse me.” He was about to make his leave before you interrupted. 

“Obi-Wan, wait,” You sighed, shifting so there was room for him to sit on the bed. “Sit.” 

He did as he was told, eyeing you carefully. “Honestly, I don’t mean to pry.” 

“It’s fine.” You knew his intentions and as pure as they were you cannot bring yourself to tell him the truth. “I admit that I...am slightly concerned about the mission.” 

It wasn’t the answer Obi-Wan was hoping for, but he was willing to hear anything he could get out of you. “You have nothing to be worried about Y/n/n. You’re an extremely capable Jedi and I have no doubt in my mind you will lead us through it.” 

You smiled, only slightly but a smile nonetheless. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled back. 

Your eyes locked tight with each other, and everything around you became emptiness. A void surrounded you both and the presence of the other was all that could be felt. 

“Staring competitions are pointless.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straight and attempting to return your meditative state. 

“No they aren’t!: Obi-Wan argued from his spot across from you. 

“All you do is stare at each other until someone blinks. Waste of time.” 

“Nuh uh. Master Qui-Gon told me that--” Obi-Wan stood up, “--‘The eyes are a window to the soul’--” you laughed at the bad attempt he made to mimic his Master;s voice, “--therefore staring competitions can be a very good battle tactic.” 

“Jedi don’t do battles, remember? We’re peacekeepers.” You looked up at your friend. “Besides, you just want an excuse to get lost in my eyes.” 

Obi-Wan grinned. “You know me so well.” 

So much has changed about the man in front of you, you could hardly recognize him. You never allowed yourself the pleasure to examine what you missed out on. One moment he was a young man who looked like he could take on the universe, and now all you could see was one tired man doing his best. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, is what the old You would have teased. But post-living-ten-years-by-yourself You was different. In a way, you understood. Although you didn’t fight any life-threatening battles and put yourself in the line of fire every week, you have worked tirelessly towards the same goal. 

Peace. 

Like this moment. 

For once, it was quiet. You felt yourself relax slowly, focusing on the one noise that soothed your anxious mind. It felt warm and...close. Something you haven’t felt in a long, long time. 

Obi-Wan leaned closer, his heart reacting faster than his brain. He felt a warmth he had been longing for over a decade. When he reached out, he no longer felt desolate. He wanted to hold on to the feeling and never let go. 

But alas in time of war, small moments of peace only last for so long. 

“Hey! We’re here.”  

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[strawbabysimp]

Adult Trio Soulmate Strings AU HCs

Chrollo

No one had told him what the string meant, what was on the other side waiting for him. Children in Meteor City knew how to fight and how to live and how to kill. Not how to love. Or maybe they did and the world simply told them they shouldn't. That they weren't deserving of it. As he got older Chrollo eventually sought out the meaning of this mysterious red string, finding his answer in one of the books he managed to get his hands on in that wretched and beloved place. A soulmate.

There was a person out there just for him, but more importantly, there was a destiny. A plan for him. He knew he had to find them, to secure this irrefutable connection to another. The leader had planned to meet them when he got out of Meteor City, it was part of the reason he formed the Troupe. Though, as the years went on and life took its toll on him, as it did anyone, the desire to find this person faded. By the time The Spiders had managed to become a notorious group, it was a dream within a dream. A soulmate? How tragically philosophical.

That's not to say he wasn't curious, but he lost that drive, running on autopilot as he searched for a passion without the motivation to even want one. Sometimes he did find himself especially enraptured by the red string secured around his finger though, toying with it during meetings or tying small knots that soon came undone while laying in bed.

Guilt wasn't something he felt often, taking lives and valuables without a second thought was a regular occurrence, but with you? He felt utterly in the wrong. To deny you of something even he found beautiful simply because he "didn't care?" That's when he felt like a monster. He found comfort in the title though, embracing the fact of what he was. He was selfish and greedy and somehow still found a way to prevent himself from gaining the one thing that could save him.

One day he had been twisting the string between his fingers, a mannerism that even the others around him had picked up on when there was a tug back. It became a regular occurrence, the two of you pulling on the string lightly back and forth. You tried to beg him through the string to come to find you, pulling him in your direction, but he never did come. You knew it was impossible to tell, but it seemed he had gotten even farther away.

The only connection you'd ever have with him was through those small motions and you'd go on to love someone else. Maybe not in the way you would have loved him, but there's not much to do when you're destined to love someone who was forced to learn how not to.

Hisoka

"I don't have one" he'd respond calmly. This was his and his alone, so what if people thought he was a freak? He wouldn't allow someone to interfere with this in even the most minuscule way. A person who relied on him and only him to fulfill the grandest idea of love? Nothing could hold more power than the blood-soaked string tied around his ring finger.

Heaven's Arena was a well-known spot, a tourist attraction of sorts, so you simply had to stop by when you happened to be near. As you made your way to the stands and gazed on at the stage you found him already looking at you, giving you a quick smirk as your gaze fell to his hand with a shocked expression. At the end of his "performance" he typically met with fans but this time he naturally went straight to you, a single blood-stained rose held out in a tender gesture. You didn't question how he had managed to obtain the flower, too busy processing the fact that this bizarre man was your soulmate.

Every moment with you is too much for him to endure. It's an adrenalin rush that he's become addicted to but whenever he looks at you he gets this urge to tear everything you are apart and cover himself in the pieces he could never think to reach from the outside. Being close to you is never close enough and the only way to satisfy this feeling of need would be to destroy you. He can't bear to do that but it's so tempting.

At rare times something in him seemed to break, going off on tangents about the cruelty of his thoughts and how he longed to turn you into yet another victim of his murderous desires. He had planned to take over your life, wishing to bask in the high your undying love was sure to give him. A man becoming weak through the pursuit of power is a pitiful sight even for one not tied to them by fate. "My love will never complete you. I take and I take and I offer up only the worst parts of myself because that's all I have to offer. That's the tragedy of loving me, my dear. I will not apologize because I do not feel bad, however, I will not allow myself to hurt such a lovely thing."

You always come back to each other, the string acting as a sort of magnet between you two. Eventually, you both come to accept the situation for what it is; deadly but far too tempting to not risk everything for. He was the most beautiful thing you'd ever laid eyes on and if the image of him was the last thing you ever saw you'd consider it a privilege.

Surprisingly enough, the magician never does end up taking your life, finding the unfamiliar task of restraining himself a new sort of challenge to prove his strength. Holding you close to him, pressing your body against his as he watches your auras merge, was a common occurrence. When his bloodlust rose and your fear spiked just a fraction he would plant a gentle kiss on your cheek before pulling away with some excuse, you both knew he did this to protect you but he'd never admit that.

Illumi

Soulmates were a weakness in the eyes of the Zoldycks, hypocritical to say the least as Silva and Kikyo were tied by fate, but that was typical. Despite the harsh words his parents had told him, his curiosity would eventually get the better of him and he would seek you out. Traveling in the direction the string took him without fail. It was an easy task when you had money and power. Locating you was not the issue, deciding what to do with you once found was. Simply approaching you wouldn't do.

He watched you for a long time, disappearing into a crowd or dark corner whenever you felt eyes on you. One day you found yourself doing trivial tasks, walking the streets on your way to pick up a snack, or do some light shopping when an unfamiliar feeling hit you. It wasn't unpleasant so much as it was surprising. You even describe it as lovely.

Despite his best efforts to keep himself hidden from your view, Illumi had never been trained to hide love. Pain, fear, anger, sadness, all these were painstakingly buried deep within him to the point that even he didn't know how to release them. But what he felt when looking at you grew greater with each small action and he didn't notice it slipping through until it was too late.

The second your eyes met he was a goner. It was like a drug to the emotionally-deprived man and while he knew it wouldn't do any good to engage you, the selfishness that was ripped out of him from a young age came flooding back full force. Both of you remained shocked as you approached one another but the small smile you gave him was enough to make him think that maybe this was the one time surrendering himself to feelings was okay.

Marrying you was a plan he wants to put into action as soon as possible, using the piece of paper as a form of protection. "Never kill a family member" read the Zoldyck rules that were engraved into the assassin's mind. This would be one of many forms of rebellion you had influenced Illumi in making, and while it wasn't necessarily against the rules, it was certainly not something he thought his parents would approve of.

When you're hanging out he remains a bit stiff, not sure of how to act around someone casually. You begin to feel off-put by the awkward composure of your soulmate though he picks up on it easily, his ability to read people far more advanced than the average person. Illumi allows a small bit of his aura to shine through the veil to reassure you of his contentment, and while he won't acknowledge it, you're grateful for his efforts. It's during one of these dates, hidden away in a hotel relaxing beside one another, that the usually warm and comforting aura changes. His arm comes to hold you just a bit tighter and the love he allowed to encompass you shut off. This had happened times before but your attempts at reassurance through small touches did no help to soothe the Zoldyck.

Later that night his hand would rest gently against your cheek as the light in your eyes dies, your face is wet with tears but a forgiving smile still rests kindly on your face. You're already gone. He can feel it. Despite this he holds you against him late into the night, only letting go when he can no longer bear to see you in such a state. His eyes stay downcast as he refuses to look up at the state the sky is in, not wanting to face the fact that the wetness of his cheeks could be from anything other than the weather. He sends one message before putting his phone away with shaking hands. Yet another job is done.