#but once that smooths out... how would they even know if Ben 'returned'

[fieldofdaisiies]

gwyn x balthazar | 2,7k words | warnings: none | masterlist

Corrian releases a yelp as soon as he feels his best friend playfully flicking his ear, his hand swiftly rising to dramatically shield his aching ear.

"Ouch!" he expresses and flashes his best friend and incredulous look. "What was that for?"

"That was for staring at my sister's backside." Balthazar's eyes flash in warning, yet sparkle with amusement at his best friend's obvious crush. 

"Well, you better get used to it. Because once we start dating, me staring at her beautiful butt will be the least of—" "She is not interested in you," Balthazar chuckles and shakes his head. 

But his best friend grins. "Not yet. But soon. One day she won't be able to resist my dashing looks." Corrian grins from one ear to the other, squaring his shoulders, his wings flared behind his back. 

"Dream on, Metkim. Dream on!" Thena's humourless voice is loud as she nears the two males. "The general and his entourage are here, waiting for us to join, Baz," she announces, not even deigning his brother's best friend a look, her chin held high. It is not like she does not have a crush on him as well, but her dating Corrian? No way. This would be so weird, especially with him being Balthazar's best friend. 

"Coming." Balthazar straightens up and brushes his hand down his shirt, smoothing it out. Maybe Gwyn will be here again today and he needs to look…immaculate for her. One hand coming up, the young Illyrian also smoothes back his curls, hoping to tame them a little. 

"All this polishing up is for nothing if you don't get rid of the blood dripping from your nose, brother," Corrian says with a grimace on his face. "You are bleeding, if you haven't noticed. How did that happen?"

Fuck…He really hasn't. And actually he has also wanted to keep the former run-into with Zave a secret. How he punched him right in the face, how Balthazar hit slapped him in return, now his strength protected by the siphons. Thank the Mother, he thinks. He does not know what the sheer rage about what Zave said about his sister could have resulted in. He felt so violent, so furious. And if anger fuels his power then only the Cauldron could protect Zave. But thank the Gods he has more siphons now, keeping his strength at bay. He did not want to use violence, but when someone hurts what he values most….

"Zave." It is all Balthazar says and then brushes the back of his hand beneath his nose to get rid off the mostly dried blood. 

"I am going to break his stupid wings if this does not stop!" Thena growls and hands her brother a handkerchief which he gratefully accepts. But in a stern tone he adds, "You are not doing anything. This is just for now. Now, that there has no camp lord ben officially inaugurated yet.. He will find his place amongst the ranks of Illyrian once everything is calm."

The last thing Balthazar wants is to get his sister involved. He knows she can protect herself, knows she is strong enough, but still, it is his battle to fight, not hers. 

"Am I at least allowed to kick some Illyrian asses today during training?"

Corrian laughs loudly, his gaze swiping to Thena. And then he just stares — long and longingly. Balthazar nudges him in the ribs, chuckles a little, but then says. "Not yet, you and Corrian will show some females the techniques of dagger handling."

They are walking towards the training pitch and can already spot the females lined up there, all waiting patiently and excitedly. Balthazar's eyes search for one specific person, one—

Gods! 

His steps slow a little, a completely natural reaction to the absolute blankness in his brain. Breathtaking. She truly is breathtaking. With the sun illuminating her skin, her teal eyes glowing like the sea kissed by sunlight. And dressed in a Illyrian leathers that leave absolutely nothing to imagination. 

She is with Lady Nesta, Lord Cassian, … and Lord Azriel. Of course, how else should it be. But she does not stand too close to him, close but not too close. Balthazar averts his gaze, knowing his rationality is going down the hill. What the hell is he thinking about? Why is he suddenly feeling jealous. 

He has camp lord business to deal with soon, and seemingly all he can think about is Gwyneth Berdara. If only she wasn't so beautiful and breathtaking…

"Finally," Cassian muses, a smile on his face as he turns his head. Gwyn follows the direction into which her best friend's mate looks and her heart skips a tiny beat. 

As the Balthazar approaches her gaze is fixed on him. Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in his appearance, once again finding him truly breathtaking. His strong body is visible through the cotton of his shirt, and the grin on his face lights up the whole of Windhaven, but—

Why is he always bloody or shirtless when they meet? Or both.

Her brows furrow a little and she watches him until he comes to a stop, bracing his broad hands on the wooden fence that surrounds the training pitch. "What are we waiting for, training has already begun."

"Spoken like a true leader," Corrian chimes in, smiling brightly at his best friend. 

Thena leaps over the fence in one swift motion, her long, black braid lifting. She turns her head and says, "Spoken like a true male." She chuckles a little and then gestures at Corrian. "Are you coming? We have dagger handling to deal with."

Corrian gives Thena thumbs up and then jumps over the fence as well. He turns to his best friend, not yet following Thena. "Wish me luck." "With Thena hopefully not stabbing you, or with wooing her? The last I won't do." 

A mischievous grin spreads over the young Illyrian's face when Corrian flips him off and then follows after Thena, laughing a little. 

Looking after them for a moment longer, Balthazar finally turns to the group around the general of the Illyrian armies. Cassian is watching him closely, probably seeing the last blood stains on his face. But since he does not ask about it, the young Illyrian doesn't say anything. 

"Everything alright here? No circumstances?" Cassian asks in his low voice when Balthazar strolls over to them and shakes his head. 

"No, nothing." He bows his head in greeting, looking at each one of the four, his gaze lingering on Gwyn for a little longer. "Everything is calm."

"The nose?"

"Nothing dramatic," Balthazar answers, knowing that the skin around it probably already starts to bruise. Not how he wanted Gwyn to see him, but there is nothing he can do against it now. 

"Will we train like yesterday?" Balthazar's favoured coping-mechanism — changing the topic really quickly and hoping no one will start with the old conversation again. 

And thank the Gods, no one does. "Training just like yesterday. Although, Emerie offered that she will run a few of the younger Illyrian males as well as females through the obstacle course, so they can see what it is like. Azriel will help her."

Balthazar nods. "Sounds like a good plan." His gaze moves to Gwyn for a moment and he sees her already looking at him, but quickly averts her gaze when she notices him. She glances at her shoes then. 

"I need to check some things in Devlon's old office. If you give us your final decision, it will be your office soon on." 

Balthazar's eyes widen for a moment, but actually it sounds quite nice. He will have his own office soon!

Balthazar's gaze moves to the large hut behind the general, knowing this is where the office is, where Devlon spent many hours in. It will be his, his to work in, to roam around freely and make notes and write things down and plan things and all of these things. 

"And you two could show the females some fighting techniques? I think they could really profit from seeing how true Valkyries fight?" Balthazar smiles. "You know about the Valkyries?" Gwyn takes one step forward, fingers intertwined in front of her, but her eyes wide open as she stares up at him, nothing but surprise and admiration in her eyes. Her chest starts to feel with warmth when a feeling of utter happiness takes root in her soul. He knows about the Valkyries, and his suggestion…

"Of course, I do." Balthazar looks a little amused, the big smile still on his face. "It was mentioned a few times that you are trying to revive their legacy, but of course I also know them. Also knew them before. When we were younger my sister was crazy about learning everything about them. The elite group of female warriors which are better and braver fighters than everyone else, including the Illyrians."

Balthazar looks proud that he remembers all the information, his grin now reaching from one ear to the other. His shoulders are squared and his wings twitching a little with the emotions bubbling up inside of him. "So, I am sure all the females could really profit from your techniques."

Gwyn just looks at him, and that for a very long moment. Her cheeks gain a little rosy touch, her lips parting the slightest bit. And then she just looks, and for quite a while.

"Also the mind-stilling might be beneficial for a lot of them. Not only them, me as well. With everything that is happening, I could really profit from it. I am ready to learn." 

Gwyn takes another step towards him, almost something is pulling her towards the male. "I would love to teach you—you all. All the females and of course, and you as well." Gwyn takes another step forward, now standing much closer to Balthazar than she has expected. The young Illyrian dips his chin, a sudden emotion tugging on his chest. He brings a hand up and rubs it over his peck, unsure of where the feeling suddenly comes from. Yet, despite the odd tug, he keeps the grin on his face. Gwyn's gaze momentarily moves to his forehead where a soft breeze blows through his curls before she meets his gaze again. 

"Perfect, then what are we waiting for." 

Balthazar pulls his lower lip between his teeth and then releases it again. "Lead the way, Gwyneth Berdara."

Not long after, Nesta and Gwyn stand in front of a half-circle of Illyrian females, including Balthazar, and many more females, mostly very young ones who ready to learn about the techniques. Or who are only there to drool over Balthazar, Gwyn thinks when she sees the way the female next to Balthazar gapes at him. 

Gwyn clears her throat, hoping to draw everyone's attention to her. Balthazar's she has had all the time, never lost it. His attention is always on her. 

"We are doing mind-stilling now, as…Lord Balthazar suggested." Gwyn smiles kindly, but her voice trembles a little. 

She knows a lot about the techniques, but the whole thing about so much attention being on her, about having to speak in front of the people, about having the predatory eyes of the Illyrian males outside the pitch on her. She draws in a deep breath, knowing that mind-stilling will also help her here. And the fact that Balthazar wants to learn about it…it makes her heart skip yet another few beats. 

"First," Gwyn says her gaze moving to Balthazar, locking. "You need to get into a comfortable seated position, feet flat on the floor, while the hands should lightly rest on the knees."

Everyone follows her orders without a second of hesitation and she likes this.

Then you need to breathe in — three deep breaths— and then after the count of six blow them out through your mouth. Then close your eyes, count again. 

"Don’t overthink it, just close your eyes and keep breathing. Take five breaths." Gwyn's voice is soft and it brushes over Balthazar's skin like a feather. He relaxes fully, feels the tension leave his body and for a moment all he focuses on is his breathing and Gwyn's voice. It is just so beautiful, like a song he will never grow tired of listening to. 

Surveying the body follows, working all the way through it, assessing how one is feeling — acknowledging it. 

"Now survey your body. Starting at your head, slowly work down to your toes, assess how you’re feeling. Note if there are sore spots, if there are spots that feel good." 

Absently, Balthazar moves one hand over the other, his finger tips brushing over the green stone on the back of his right hand. He thinks about his strength, the siphons, his power, the—

"Hands should stay on the ground." 

Balthazar places his hands on the ground in an instant, smiling to himself, knowing Gwyn is watching him and that is damn good feeling. "Now, we are doing focused breathing."

Everyone follows. "And we repeat this a few times. Everyone follows again. Until it comes to an end.

"Begin to sink back into your body. Mark the sounds around you. Mark the feeling in your fingers, your toes and open your eyes."

Balthazar's eyes adjust slowly to the bright surrounding, but when they finally do he looks at Gwyn's beaming face. 

"I hope this was a—" "Absolutely amazing. I haven't felt that at ease with myself in a long time." Balthazar climbs back to his feet and brushes his hands down his thighs. "Sorry for interrupting you, please continue, Gwyn."

A soft hum escapes her and Gwyn nods. "No need to apologise, I just wanted to ask if it was alright, but I already got my answer."

"I interrupted you and this is not polite, I totally needed to apologise." Balthazar bows his head, a polite smile on his face. "And I think you can tell that it was more than alright. Milan, what do you say?"

The young boy grins as he straightens up and flares his wings. "I'm feeling really good right now."

"So, do I. But I think I got a knotted wing." A female steps up to Balthazar, her hand landing on his strong upper biceps. "Could you maybe have a look at it?"

Balthazar's brows rise up, a flabbergasted look on his face. She can't be serious? Under no circumstance would he ever touch a female's wings just like that. "At your wings?" he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Yes," she says with a smile. 

"I'd rather a female looks at them. Please, ask Alina, the healer. She will help you." Frustration passes over Natalia's face, but she quickly schools her features in neutrality and nods. "Alright, will do so, Thank you anyway." With that she trots away, sighing loudly. 

Balthazar feels a little bad, but he could not just touch her wings. That would have been so out of place, so very inappropriate. 

"We can write the steps down for you, so you can teach them to the others when we are no here?" Nesta suggest, but Balthazar lifts his hand and taps his index finger against his forehead. "All saved in here, but thank you for the effort." He smiles and dips his chin.

Nesta chuckles a little, but when she wants to say something, her mate beats her to it. "The key is now all yours, Balthazar. Have a look whenever you need, even though you are not officially inaugurated you can still feel free to roam around and have a look around."

Thanking the general, Balthazar bows his head again. 

"And then I would like to invite you to Velaris next week. We won't have time to come up here for training, there is a lot to work in Velaris as well. Try to make time for it." "Of course, I will." Balthazar takes the key from the general's hand. It feels cool in his palm, but holding it feels good. It is a big key, and even a bigger responsibly that now lies in his hand. 

"Thank you," he says, "for all the trust and belief in me."

~~~~~~~~~ tag list: @a-frog-with-a-laptop @brekkershadowsinger @moonlightazriel @callmeblaire @headcanonheadcase @waternymphia @autumndreaming7 @devilsfoodcake22 @readercacau @sv0430 @bubybubsters @cyntia-ktn

#gwyn x balthazar #balthazar acotar #acotar #acosf #gwyn berdara #gwyneth berdara #gwyn acotar #acofah

[freddieslater]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Audrey Rose x Uma (Descendants)

Requested by @bonniesdamons

Gentle waves lap at Audrey's legs on the shore. They're getting dangerously close to her dress; her gran would kill her if it got ruined. She tucks her knees up a little closer, and for some reason, she cries harder. Burying her face in her hands, she tries to push away the intruding thoughts, but they only grow louder, shrouding her in cold loneliness.

Nothing she does will ever be enough. She can't make Ben love her. She can't prove to her gran that she'll make a good queen because clearly, no one else thinks it's true! And after everything she's done to make herself perfect for them all.

She dyed her hair. She changed almost her whole less -- from pretty dresses of the most divine materials from her kingdom to cold leather that makes her feel constantly constricted. She tried to be less mean, then more mean, and softer and then not too soft. But it's not enough. She will never be able to compete with her.

Another cold wave laps at her leg, soaking her to her knees. Her skin prickles as it shies away again, leaving her with the feeling of being dragged with it. She moves her hands from her eyes -- she scrabbles to get away from the water, but the teal tentacle stays wrapped around her ankle.

There's only one thing for it: she screams. She tries to pry off the creature to no avail. Her whole body stills as the tide goes out and more tentacles emerge onto the shore. Her throat tightens around her voice as though also at the mercy of one of the limbs.

Finally, a head appears. Some of Audrey's fear ebbs away at the sight of the familiar face, but caution remains as Uma shakes her hair out of her face.

"Let go of me," Audrey demands, internally cursing the quiver in her own voice. Her grand and her mother would never allow themselves to present so weak and vulnerable.

Uma's lips curl into a wicked, open-mouthed smile. "Oh, what do we have here? A damsel in distress?"

"I am not a damsel," Audrey seethes, her built-up anger from the most recent events spilling out like nasty sewage. "And the only thing distressing me right now is you, and your... slimy suckers!"

"Well, that's not very nice," Uma says, pouting with false offence. Even so, she rolls her eyes and loosens her hold on Audrey's ankle, bringing her tentacle back to her side. "I only came out to see what all the wailing was about."

Audrey glares at her, tucking her legs up under the safety of her dress. Her hands smooth over the pale pink leather for a small comfort. She should probably be running back to the castle right now. Only, what then? No one would care. She could run in crying and screaming about Uma's return, and some attempt on her life, and still everyone would probably turn away from her.

She stays planted in the sand, hoping that Uma might simply leave her to wallow in her own misery. She watches her pull herself up onto a nearby rock jutting out of the water.

The last time Audrey saw her was Cotillion, so it's a little strange to see her in... well, her natural habitat, she supposes. The clamshells she wears over her chest are a similar shade to the dress she had on back then. Her seashell necklace still hangs from around her neck, only it's not glowing now.

"So, what happened?" Uma leans back on her hands and tilts her chin to look down at her with that same wicked smirk of a smile. "Mommy won't let you go to the ball? Prince Charming turn out to not be so Charming?"

She was about to hit back with some snarky reply, but upon hearing prince, her mind goes straight to Ben. Her eyes well up with furious tears once again.

"I hate them," she bites out. "Stupid Princes. And the Kings, too -- hell, all of them! They're all the same! And I have no idea how to be one of them, even though I've been royalty my entire life. So why does she get to just slide in so perfectly and claim my place when she knows nothing about any of it?!"

She wipes at her eyes roughly with the heel of her hand as the injustice of it overwhelms her all over again.

"Sorry, you lost me a bit there." Uma's brow furrows. "So... some other princess... took something from you?"

"She took everything from me," Audrey corrects. "My boyfriend. The crown that was meant to be mine. My grandmother's respect for me. I was supposed to be Queen of Auradon, and Ben was meant to be my husband, not hers! Mal doesn't deserve any of this! She doesn't even have to try, and people just fall head over heels for her! But I have been trying so hard my entire life and, somehow... I just keep getting it wrong!"

There's a groan from the rock and she looks at Uma.

"I am so sick of that girl getting her way every single time," Uma says darkly. "She takes and she takes, and there are no consequences. She just gets to... get away with ruining everyone else's lives, especially the ones that no one else seems to care about. Like us."

Audrey's heart stings but she can't deny it. Nobody cares about her. Maybe her gran does, somewhere deep down, and perhaps her parents, but it certainly doesn't feel like it most of the time. Chad just loves the attention. Ben... never really did. That much is obvious; he wouldn't have been so quick to dump her and forget she ever existed if any of his feelings were real.

Hurt and bitter, she watches Uma with growing curiosity. "You tried to get back at her... Mal, I mean. Last year, at Cotillion."

Uma shrugs and looks away, expression souring. "It was an idea. Didn't think it through too well, apparently. It's on me for not remembering that the "power of true love" always saves the day. Hooray."

The sarcasm drips from her voice like thick honey.

"Still," she continues, inspecting one of the suckers on a tentacle, picking off a stuck seashell, "the outcome has been worth it. Mostly. Exploring Auradon's oceans has been a lot of fun."

"But don't you still want revenge?" Audrey prompts. "Don't you think about what could've happened if you had defeated her on the ship? You could've been Queen."

Rolling her eyes, Uma says, "I never wanted to be Queen. I never wanted Ben, either. All I wanted was to be able to free everyone else on the Isle. It's all I've ever wanted."

Audrey continues to stare at her, thinking. "What if I could help you?"

Uma's eyes swivel around to meet hers sharply. "What?"

"Yeah. We could work together. I could get the crown and -- and I could get the wand, which I could then give to you! And you can free the whole Isle and do whatever you want to do."

Uma's smile is doubtful. "That's risky, Princess. Blindly trusting a sea witch. Making a deal with a sea witch. Don't they teach you history in that fancy school of yours?"

"You'll get what you want," Audrey insists. "Will you help me?"

#descendants #disney descendants #uma #uma descendants #audrey rose #audrey descendants #audrey x uma #uma x audrey #rowing the rarepair rowboat #rarepair rowboat #bonniesdamons #there is so much potential in this pairing #I like the idea of them reuniting and teaming up at the start of d3 after ben has proposed to mal #good for angst and villanious purposes

[elnavegador]

My favorite Umbrella Academy WIPS ❤️

Lygerside Daydream

(Or the one about hallucinations and a life that never was)

Delores kisses his check. “I missed you.” 

Five smiles, taking her smooth hand between his calloused ones. “I never left.” 

The conversation dies around them and she laughs, melodic sound surrounding him, echoing like it shouldn’t.

“You always do.” 

—--------------------------------------

“Cinque, amore.” She says, wearing her favorite sunhat; the one she almost never uses in fear of wearing it out, the one with a mirriad of flowers that don’t match, the one with flowers he doesn’t remember the name of anymore.    

It’s only Delores and him, as it has been for a long time. It feels like forever, sometimes. 

Or: there’s something wrong, Five knows, he also knows he would do anything to keep Delores looking at him like that. 

—----------------------------------------

There’s this story he heard a long time ago; so long that details twist and shape into something new. There’s this story that changes in every iteration, but the end remains the same.  

“Do I know you?” She asks, tilting her head like a bird. “I feel like I know you.” 

There’s an answer trapped in his throat, between the larynx and the trachea. She keeps staring, eyes so dark he can't see the pupil and a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. The clock on the wall stops at seven.  

The scarf around her head is a nice shade of blue, it reminds Five of–of something; there’s a series of numbers written in chalk on the board, displacement equations she had been working on before he arrived, there’s a wrong decimal. The clock on the wall is stuck at seven.  

“I don’t think so.” He finally says. 

The smile widens and it should feel mocking, a threat, but instead it’s like coming home. Five smiles back.  

“Delores.” She says. He says. The clock ticks again and the room turns black. 

.

There’s something that is not quite a man at the bottom of the hill. Man-shaped, earth-teetered, unmoving with its gaze fixed in the gravel sky. Up, up, up where it can never reach, up where time is the same as it has always been. 

Its fingers twitch, once, two and thrice, its neck is sore, bruised in a way it doesn’t notice anymore. The gray shifts and time doesn’t forgive, so it takes one step after the other, feet rising from the broken concrete, heavy, breaking the vines threaded into its broken boots, life that clings, uncaring.

It keeps walking. 

Capgras Delusion

(or the one where Five returns earlier and tries to find a way to take his siblings from Reginald)

It's a hit or miss if the smoke will offer him comfort or send him into a panic attack, today it seems it's the first one and he exhales. 

"He's hurting them," Five says, relying on the script. It’s been two years, they always have this conversation and it always goes the same way. 

“Teaching them, Mister Five, powers like yours 

"You read the book." Vanya's book, he let him read it under Five's supervision. It's the only reason he hasn't tattled to Reginald. 

"I did, Mister Five and I still think that if we offer it to your father--" 

"No," he says and this is an usual argument, too "it's alright if you admire him, but don't be blind to the kind of man he is. He will push them harder and this time Ben won't be the only one to die." 

He wishes, not for the first time, that he had Allison's power. These inane conversations would be over, then. 

"How many of us have to die for you to realize?" Five says, getting off script. But he's tired "How much more suffering will be enough for you?" 

Pogo is frustrated, too and Five had been careful of pushing him too far all this time, but he can't sit idle anymore. Not when his siblings are crying every damn night for a man that doesn't give a fuck about them. 

He has plans already in case Pogo tattles. In case Reginald knows he's here. 

It would be easier if Pogo was on his side, yes, but he can work even if he doesn't.  Five can do it. He has to. 

"There's nothing I can do about it, I take care of the children, but--" 

"He already made Be–Six kill the rabbits, didn't he?"  

Pogo’s face falls and something twists inside Five. 

"I have a plan," Five says carefully.

Maggot Pie (heh)

The fucker left them a note in the fridge, which is more than he would’ve left a few months ago, but still–A. Fucking. Note.

If I don’t return at 9, assume I’m dead. (Or look for me, which amounts for the same with the kind of organization this family is capable of) — 5

And then a direction below.

It’s nine and a half already. There’s nobody else at the academy and Diego is only here because there wasn’t any orange juice left in his apartment and he was craving some. That he hasn’t been at the Academy in over a week and seen some of his siblings for longer is unrelated.

He pats his pockets and lets out a sigh of relief when he feels the little portatil phone, --smartphone, according to Luther’s lectures, who took with shiny eyes and disgusting ease the new technology of this timeline– it’s usually a roll of the dice if Diego will remember to take it with him, useful as it is, it’s matter entirely if it’s going to remain unbroken.

He calls Luther first, who the most likely to come back running at the first hint of danger, with the rest of them is a hit or miss. He answers after two rings.

“Return to the Academy now, there’s an emergency.”

He hangs up before Luther can respond.

The thing is–Five is usually good at knowing the kind of danger he will face when he goes out like this; sometimes he takes one of them, one or two times Luther or Viktor, usually Diego, because he’s out kicking ass anyway while the rest want to live peacefully, or as peaceful as a Hargreeves can get. And if he deemed his mission dangerous enough to leave them a direction and an hour–

When Diego finds him, he’s going to fucking kill him. He’s going to make him wish he died in his little errand.

He shakes his head, not useful right now. He’s certain Luther called Allison as soon as Diego hung* up, if he’s not with her already. He calls Viktor next.

“Come to the Academy. Five is missing.”

Then Klaus and it’s actually a miracle when he actually responds.

“Return to the Academy or I will burn your clothes.”

He hangs up before his shierk can leave him deaf. Sometimes different measures must be taken to make them do shit. It’s like herding cats. It’s not that they wouldn’t come for Five, but they do overestimate his capabilities.

Diego, as the one that goes the most with him on these missions to thwart the Commission’s efforts to ‘correct’ the timeline, is intimately aware that he’s far from indestructible, as much as he likes to pretend otherwise.

And, boy, how he likes to pretend.

In between maps of probabilities that make sense to nobody but him and single-minded [...] to razor to the ground his former employers, they’ve been worried about him, or rather, they’ve been worried about how his new obsession could come back to bite them in the ass.

It’s an uncharitable thought, but it’s an uncharitable world and all the Hargreeves are selfish at heart.

For what is worth, Five tried to relax the first days, weeks even, after they arrived to the new 2019, Diego knows, he went out to do who knows what in hilarious grandpa clothes nobody dared to make fun of in fear of him going back to the uniform; he hung out with Klaus, the two of them disappearing for days at time, returning suspiciously giggly, but there was no way Diego was poking at that within a ten foot pole*; he stayed sometimes in Viktor’s apartment and the two little [rascals] were actually getting along again.

And then he holed himself up in his room for three days straight and when he came out it was with the intense look he had when he first arrived at the funeral talking about the future.

He even put on a suit and everything.

There is no way Diego is telling him this, but he misses his little grandpa outfits and his easier smiles and the way he actually talked to them.

Now there’s a note Diego stumbled across on pure chance and him going alone on a mission he was clearly reluctant to go when he could have taken Diego with him. The fucker didn’t even bother

He glances at the clock. Nine and forty.

His leg is bouncing and he considers for a second going to the address alone–but that is the kind of shit that got them in this situation, if Five had just called him, then maybe–

Diego glares at the note with Five’s stupid neat handwriting.

Infections of a different kind

(Which is already posted, but I'm having trouble with) (In this one Five returns earlier too, but commits the mistake of telling his siblings and Reginald about the apocalypse)

Diego wasn’t close to Five, most of them weren’t, not really, that doesn’t mean that his absence didn’t hit them all. It was in the holes in their    and plates of food Mom kept putting for him before Pogo told (programed) her not to. 

But he returned and they haven't been allowed to see him for a week. 

It’s bullshit, it’s what it is. 

“Mom,” he says when she’s putting the covers over him. 

Some of his siblings don’t want Mom to tuck them goodnight anymore, but fuck them. 

“Yes, dear?” 

“Why can’t we see Five?” 

She stops for a few seconds, before smiling in “He’s in a very delicate state, it’s important that he gets to rest undisturbed.” 

Diego thinks about that for a second, “we can be quiet.” 

“I know you can, sweetheart, but your Father prefers that he heals alone. You know he likes to be cautious.” 

He scowls, that’s a way to put it, but something about this smells bad. 

Diego doesn't know why he pictured him drinking with his father and talking about how bothersome kids are. 

He looked rather pathetic the last time they saw him. Really fucked up, he wasn’t even aware a person could be that thin and sickly and still resemble his smug brother, that is less smug and more sad. 

And that’s it: Five looks really sad. 

Mom cut some of his beard and washed him, so he looks less like a homeless person, but he’s still hard to look at.    and he will never be able to forget his scream, even if he was several rooms apart. 

He wants to hit and rip apart something, what the fuck happened to him? He said something about the end of the world and called out for someone called Delores, did someone have him captive or something? 

And what are they supposed to do about it when it all happens in the future? 

Five isn’t supposed to look like that, he’s supposed to be smug and insufferable. He was his asshol-ish self that first day and okay, the crying and laughing were creepy, but he was getting there again the more time he spended in the infirmary. 

But now they moved him out and they haven’t been allowed to see him. Which is utter bull-shit and if Dad thinks he’s going to obey that, he’s got another thing coming for him.    

He’s in a room nobody uses, which doesn’t tell him much, considering they use just about a third of them, that’s his intel from the spyed conversations between Pogo and Mom. 

“Where are we going?” 

Diego doesn’t jump, but he hits his shoulder on the wall anyway.  

He glares at Klaus, “you are not going anywhere.” 

#the umbrella academy #tua #fanfiction #tua fanfic #number five #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #Delores #wip #me #yes. these are Will wood songs #his chaos goes well with tua

[evebestt]

When the Walls Around are Undone (2/5)

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Read here on AO3 or below

~

She wasn’t sleeping anymore.

When she did, she was plagued by dreams — the sound of a baby crying, but never being able to find it; being heavily pregnant, the panic of knowing she needed to escape, and soon, otherwise she’d come for her; needing her magic and finding herself unable to summon it, then watching the runic enhancers tear their way across her skin as the exhaustion settled deep into her bones and she fell to her knees, Rosalind’s disembodied voice whispering to her that she would bear their answer for the coming war.

The nightmares left her feeling drained and fragile, and so she just didn’t sleep anymore. Better to deal with the exhaustion and the twenty minute cat-naps than whatever horrors her subconscious would dredge up.

But that, too, was taking its toll, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. Her pallor was getting harder to hide, even with magic, and even she could see the dullness in her eyes, a dullness she couldn’t afford to have as the newly reinstated Headmistress of Alfea, who needed to have the answers to the questions the numerous governing bodies were asking her. 

It had been six weeks since she first took up her desk again, six weeks since she thought the return to normalcy would smooth out the nightmares.

If anything, they were worse.

They slipped in everytime she closed her eyes, even if just for a few minutes. And now even in waking, when she thought she could be free from them for a few hours, they’d started to follow her; every time she thought they might be slipping into the back of her mind, allowing her the room to think of anything else, she’d hear a bright American voice, happy to see her and so blissfully unaware of where she came from, who she came from.

It’s not Bloom’s fault, she told herself over and over. And truly, she didn’t blame the girl, how could she? She still had no more culpability than that innocent babe she carried, was a victim just as much as anyone else Rosalind tormented.

But every glimpse of Bloom was a reminder of that moment she’d opened her eyes and the shock of the truth had hit her like a blackjack to the head, to the point she was starting to dread her teaching duties, something she’d never felt in all her life.

It’s not as if I’ve been a very good mentor lately, she thought bitterly one night, when she’d had to cut her class short that day because she hadn’t been able to see anything but the memories, flashing darkly through her mind and reeking of the damage done to her mind and body during those months.

At night, she dulled the flashbacks with alcohol — never too much at once, she was very careful never to tip herself over that edge, but it was at least marginally easier to breathe after a drink or three. It was one of those nights that Ben came and found her, still sitting at her desk since she hadn’t mustered the energy to go back home yet.

“I saw your light on,” he said in greeting, leaning on the door jam in case she wasn’t in the mood for visitors.

But she waved him in, pushing away her pen and paper. “Just catching up on grading.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie, she’d started her night with that intent — though she hadn’t looked at one of the essays in front of her in nearly an hour.

“I’d say I’m surprised to find you awake, but that seems to have become normal for you.”

She didn’t like the implications of that, and feared he might push some draught on her she didn’t want. “I’ve been busy, and I haven’t been all that tired.”

That was bullshit and he knew it, giving her one of his patented stares over his glasses. She held it, only barely, but she couldn’t help the small sigh of relief when he looked away and sat, clearing away a stack of papers in front of him.

“What are you doing up, then?” she asked. Only then did she see the stress and fatigue drawn on his face, and felt a stab of guilt that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Some nights I still can’t sleep, I just want to go and look at Sam and Terra and make sure they’re alright.”

He’d told her how Rosalind had used them against him, had tied his hands with the love for his children. That alone, she thought, could’ve given her the strength to end Rosalind.

She stood and grabbed another glass from the bar she kept hidden, then sat down again and set it in front of him. “And are they?”

He gave her a wry smile and sipped his drink. “I stop myself short of breaking into their dorms to watch them. But yes, they’re alright. They’re always so much stronger than I think.”

“They seem to have grown up in the blink of an eye. Suddenly they’re young adults now, not children.”

His smile softened to something gentler, more nostalgic. “And not needing every bruise and scrape kissed better.”

She smiled back, remembering the few she’d given to them herself.

Wondered if she would have done the same for her child, had she known her, and gulped at her drink to push the question aside.

“Farah, are you dealing with what happened?”

The question shocked her, nearly had her dropping her glass. But she recovered quickly, sliding her mask back into place as she carefully set her drink down. “Yes. There’s a lot, but yes.”

Ben stared at her again, that steady gaze that made her want to squirm. “There is, yes, and some you probably haven’t even realized yet. Are you dealing with your loss?”

They were getting into dangerous territory, into questions that could cause her to break. “I didn’t lose anything, Ben, just nine months of my life and whatever little respect I had left for Rosalind.”

“You lost a child, Farah,” he persisted, and she should have known he wouldn’t give up like that. “You can’t pretend that does nothing to you.”

“She’s not dead, Ben, she’s right in front of me.” She took another drink, then stared at the amber liquid left. “That’s what makes this even more complicated.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Your baby was taken away from you, unwillingly. That counts as a loss.”

“I didn’t know about it.”

“But you do now — you don’t just know about it, you remember it.”

“And?” Maybe she’d said it just to provoke him, or to give off a false sense of nonchalance, but either way it worked.

“And?” Ben repeated incredulously. “Farah, that’s a trauma you have to deal with — alone or with help, that’s up to you — but I don’t think you are. You’re hurting a lot more than you’re letting on, as much as you’re pretending you’re not. And I know that not just because I know you and I know your tells, but because as a parent, I know the pain from having your baby ripped away like that would be devastating, and—”

“Ben, stop.” She held his gaze easily now, irritation giving her the strength to do so. “I remember the day Sam was born. I remember Terra, too, but I especially remember Sam, because I got to watch you become a father. You’d read the books and you’d supported Rose and you had done everything you possibly could have to prepare, but then you held Sam in your arms for the first time, and something shifted. You changed — in the best way possible, but you changed, because it wasn’t just you and Rose anymore, it was you, Rose, and a beautiful little boy.

“You had that experience, Ben. You got to remember that experience. You got to remember the pregnancy, and you got to hold him, and then you got to watch him learn and grow into the young man he is today. I didn’t get that. I didn’t even know I had a child until a couple months ago, and now that I do know, the memories I have around that experience aren’t good.”

Something in his expression twinged, and she felt a small triumph in that. “So, yes, as a parent, the pain from something like this might break you, but I’m not a parent. That baby is as far removed from me as possible — not only did I not know about her until recently, now that I do know, I know nothing about her — certainly nothing that would connect the child I carried to the Bloom I know today.”

Ben was quiet for a long minute, and Farah took the time to gather herself, trying to push back the emotions that had bubbled up as she’d talked.

“You’re right, Farah,” he said finally, quieter than he’d been. “This is a very unique situation, and I don’t pretend to know anything about what you went through. But pretending the loss of your child, no matter how unique of a situation, doesn’t at all factor in to—”

“Anything I’m feeling about this situation is not related to the feelings of a parent losing a child,” she interrupted, and apparently she hadn’t pushed her emotions down far enough. “It’s about being manipulated and tortured by a madwoman, and having that hidden from me for seventeen years. I don’t need you to come here and try to empathize with me or comfort me about losing a child, because I didn’t. Not in any meaningful way.”

It wasn’t all lies — she wasn’t a parent, before she knew about the baby or after, and many of her nightmares stemmed from Rosalind’s torture — but there was still an ache inside her heart and sorrow in her soul that whispered of loss, and made itself more prevalent every day — even when she’d rather pretend it wasn’t there.

“Alright,” Ben said after another long pause. “I’ll leave it alone.” 

“Thank you.” 

Feeling a little guilty now that she’d been so sharp with him, she refilled his glass and offered it back to him, smiling faintly when he took it.

“Rose miscarried once. Before we had Sam.”

That shocked her, stole her words and her breath for a painful moment. “I… I didn’t know.”

“She didn’t want to tell people about it.” He shook his head before she could offer her sympathy, ran his thumb around the rim of his glass before he continued. “I will say this: I know these are two very different situations, but she said very similar things as you after it happened. That because she didn’t know or bond with the baby, she was fine.” 

He looked up at her again, steady eyes clouded in pain. “She wasn’t fine.”

Farah looked down at her desk, feeling like Ben could already see too far into her soul even without meeting her gaze.

“I know when you’re lying, Farah,” he said gently, trying to soften the blow of the truth. “Don’t let it get so bad that you break.”

It wasn’t anger or disappointment in his eyes, or even pity — she could have handled any of those.

Instead it was a tender, worried compassion, so empathetic and true that it made her want to fall into his arms and let him catch her as she broke.

But she didn’t, couldn’t allow herself that comfort. Instead she nodded, and seeing that he wouldn’t get anything else from her, Ben let it go.

“Try and get some sleep tonight,” he said as he stood, setting down his glass after he finished the last of his drink. “And I know you despise them, but I have some sleeping draughts should you ever need one.”

“Maybe another night,” she said softly, not wanting to refuse him outright, but he gave her a knowing smile, and then nodded anyway.

“If you ever need to talk, you know where I am.”

And with that, he turned and left, leaving her alone with the thoughts dredged up by the ghosts that haunted her.

~~~~~~~~~

She was breaking.

Anger rolled through her stomach almost constantly — how weak Rosalind had made her to be, trapped with the tease of her magic always at her fingertips but unable to control it, unable to break out of a fucking house even though she’d pried at the windows and doors until she’d bruised.

Fear pushed at her chest at night, making it hard to breathe when the scent of the earth clogged her nose and horrible visions of dying in that grave filled her mind and panicked her until tears flooded her eyes.

Shame prickled at the back of her neck at times, even when she knew it was nonsense; the voice in her head that sounded too much like Rosalind whispering to her that she’d been a fool, too trusting and naive to get pregnant in the first place, and that it was her own fault what had happened to her.

But worst of all, grief swallowed her heart and her soul, grief for the life she’d carried, grief for all the firsts she’d never get to know, grief for baby she hadn’t been able to protect, who she’d never seen, never held, who had never felt the gentle touch of her hands and who’d never known how sorry she was she couldn’t save them.

She wasn’t enough to contain everything that swelled up inside her anymore — every thought, every emotion, every visceral feeling that took her breath away and threatened to drown her where she stood.

She hadn’t noticed she was walking one night, not until a light rain started, the cool mist startling her. The path was quiet in the night that blanketed Alfea, the concrete just starting to darken with the rain as the cool, clean scent washed over her. It was the path to the other half of the faculty suites, she recognized the small stand of trees that separated them from the rest of the school, and then she remembered the vague want she’d had to find Ben.

And then she realized why she wanted to go there.

He’d seen through her, no matter how much she tried to hide it. She’d known that even then, and had chosen to stubbornly ignore it, but now that she was breaking, drowning, fracturing, she needed someone there to catch her.

And Ben would see that, the minute she looked at him. As unnerving as that had been before, when she’d been determined to fix herself and never let anyone see her raw wounds, it now felt her rock in the middle of the storm, to know he’d see the fractures and try to heal them.

She knocked before she lost her nerve, and tilted her face up to the rain while she waited as if it could be a balm.

Ben opened the door, eyebrows rising over his glasses at the sight of her. “Farah.”

There was a hint of question in his voice, but it was just as calm as ever, so steady and sure just like Ben was, so opposite of what she felt, and Farah had to look away, the sound of it making tears well in her eyes.

“I had a baby,” she said, her voice thick and she had to swallow hard. “And she was taken from me.”

Ben let out a small sigh of understanding, his eyes crinkling in sympathy. “Come on,” he said softly, reaching for her arm and guiding her inside. “I have a bottle of vodka somewhere.”

#farah dowling #farah dowling and bloom #bloom peters #fate the winx saga #ftws #eve best

[honorhearted]

15. hushed sex while staying in the guest room of another’s home. 👀 (this can be modern?? but doesn’t have to be!)

Location based s.mut prompts: (x) / @laviexenrose

Ben had been in the 21st century for at least five weeks now. He and Isabelle were presently staying in what she referred to as an “A.irbnb,” though he didn’t understand what air had to do with anything. The proprietor lived in the lower level, and seemed oddly strict about just who she let stay in her home, which was why he and Isabelle were posing as a married couple. The hope was that once they arrived at S.etauket, something about his visit might trigger a return to earlier times -- to his time, specifically -- but he hated to admit that he was already having second thoughts.

Before Isabelle, he’d never truly enjoyed female companionship. Although he yearned to be closer to the fairer s.ex, he was always cursed with the inability to properly converse -- to be himself -- and despite their vast differences and upbringings, Ben felt comfortable around Isabelle. Or rather, whenever she didn’t make him wear those leg p.risons she called jeans. 

Thankfully, there were far less restrictive pastimes they could enjoy together. On the main floor of this “air house” was a piano. Ben didn’t know how to play, but he became fascinated by it -- by the size and sleekness, and the remarkable clarity of the sound. In his time, pianos -- or more commonly, harpsichords -- were far more tinny and brittle in timbre.

When Isabelle showed him the beauty of this modern piano, Ben had been awed by the way her fingers glided across the keys, each press of her fingertips sending a melodic, pirouetting string of notes that slowly stitched their way into his heart. He’d been so moved that he’d instantly curled his hands over hers, halting her playing so that she might turn her wide, all-encompassing eyes to him. But he hadn’t just stopped there. No, Ben had kissed her, earnest and pleading as he angled into her mouth with a dizzying, needful ardor.

And then she’d broken away from him. There had been horror in her eyes -- perhaps even revulsion? -- and shaken, Ben had done the only thing that felt natural: he had fled.

Although the modern world was still terrifying to him, it was far more terrifying, he found, to remain behind and face what laid lurking within his heart. Trembling and breathless, he stood outside of a flower shop in the cold night air, the hustle and bustle of city life serving to drown out the frantic, dizzying thoughts racing through his head. 

She doesn’t want you, his mind taunted. Why would she want you?

Swallowing back his nausea, Ben dragged a hand through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling just as a small, fragile-looking old woman exited the shop and stood alongside him.

She looked up at him then with a wrinkly, but pleasant smile. “Hello, there,” she greeted. “Are you here for your lady-love?”

Ben winced at that, hesitant before offering a shake of his head. “No, ma’am,” he replied. “She...” no. You don’t have a ‘lady-love.’ “...I’m clearing my head,” he amended. Deciding to be polite, he asked, “And what of yourself? Ah...but not for a lady-love, but...? A husband?”

The old woman’s smile remained, though there was a slight dimness to her bright, watery gray eyes. “Today is our wedding anniversary,” she allowed. “I always buy my husband flowers, rain or shine. It’s been fifteen years since he passed.”

“Oh...” Ben hunkered then, instantly feeling sorry for broaching such a painful subject. “My condolences, madam. Matters of the heart are never easy.”

“No, they certainly aren’t,” she agreed, smoothing her gnarled fingers over the bouquet. “The problem is, we spend our whole lives focused on the future -- on how much better things will be if X-Y-Z happens -- and then we forget that what truly matters is what’s right in front of us the whole time...” She smiled. “We don’t call it the ‘present’ for nothing, you know.”

Something within Ben’s chest tightened, and he nodded, overcome by the sudden swell of emotion in his throat. “I’ve suffered for it dearly,” he agreed, “but no longer. I won’t allow that.” Taking her hand, he pressed her fingers and bowed at the waist. “Thank you, madam. I appreciate your wisdom.”

Before she could offer a perplexed reply, Ben had already turned on his heel and briskly headed back for the A.irbnb.

--

The proprietor seemed to be asleep by the time Ben returned. All the lights were off, and he clumsily made his way up the stairs to the second floor, his heart knocking between his ribs as he scaled them two at a time. Forgive me, forgive me, please don’t turn me away, forgive me...

Once he reached their assigned bedroom at the end of the hall, Ben hesitated for a long moment, took a deep inhalation, and then opened the door with his breath like fire in his lungs. “Izzy...”

He found her in the far corner of the room, folding up clothes over a suitcase. Was she intending to leave early?

Desperation took him by the throat, and he strode toward her with three quick, even strides. Tangling his fingers through Isabelle’s hair, Ben crashed his mouth into hers and tugged, anchoring her firmly into his kiss as he trembled and struggled to get closer.

Parting their lips with a shallow breath, he shook his head and apologized, “I-I’m so sorry, I just...I-I just...” I needed to. Not finishing his thought aloud, Ben curled a hand around the nape of her neck and drew their lips back together, a quaking breath catching between their kiss as he angled in more aggressively. His touch grew manic, desperate, and both of his hands knotted through her hair and pulled, melding her against him as he licked at her mouth and yearned, begged, pleaded with her to touch him back.

#laviexenrose #the heart's thrall #ben x isabelle #//LOL this got so long idek what this is #thus far every single one of these i've written has NOT in fact been sm.utty at all #but at least i pushed it in that direction? #after a weird h.allmark-esque scene with an old womans daiojdoaij #hopefully this is fine! <3 #long post tw

[loki-writes-things]

Requiem of a Dream (OCxDream of the Endless)

(A/N: This is horribly self-indulgent, and may or may not go up on AO3. We'll see. I hope at least someone enjoys it, and if not, I do. Things will get spicy in later chapters, so be prepared. Also: in case it's not clear, since it wasn't specified (That i noticed, correct me if I'm wrong) Eliot is the name I gave Hob in 2021.)

Chapter 1

Lenore Abernathy had dreamed of the man in the fishbowl since she was a child. She didn't know why she kept dreaming the same dream, but it was always the same. She would find herself in a big mansion, but it was empty, dark. The first time she found herself there it felt like she had wandered the halls for hours, until she found the basement.

And that's where she had saw him. He was a strange man, almost unnaturally thin, with wild black hair and dark, piercing eyes. When she was a child she thought him pretty, as she grew, and as she returned to the mansion time and time again she found him handsome, and…well…quite attractive. She was pretty sure he was where she got her taste for tall, skinny, emo twinks. Fishbowl man, the blueprint.

She had had the dreams for so long that she was quick to notice their absence. It'd been months, and she hadn't had the dream about the fishbowl man. It felt…odd. She'd come to enjoy the dreams, even though the man never said anything, and rarely seemed to move. He felt almost like…a friend. Which, thinking about it now sounded pathetic. Friends with a figment of her imagination. What was she? Five?

But…she still felt a pang of loss, there. Twenty years she'd had the dream, and just as quick as it started…it was gone.

She figured that was that. She'd never see him again. Poof, gone forever, just like that. She didn't realize just how wrong she would end up being.

o.0.o

Lenore had been looking forward to the London trip for a year. It was an abroad study trip for collage. It was a month long trip, with a focus on art and culture. She'd hardly been out of state, and never even been on a plane before, so an international trip was an absolute thrill to her.

And now here she was, in London, piratically bouncing off the walls to see what the city had to offer. She wanted to see Buckingham palace, and Big Ben and just…everything. She was born and raised in a town of a couple thousand. Her graduating class was twenty people strong. She'd been to DC once, but London seemed so, so much bigger.

She wandered around, wanting to see as much of the city as she could with her free evening, before the tours and whatnot started. She wandered wide-eyed and amazed as she walked down a side street.

She came to a inn and pub, and the grumbling of her stomach told her that she probably should get something to eat. She headed in, and found a seat, sitting back to watch the people milling around her.

"Drinking alone, hm?" Someone asked, and Lenore looked up. There was a man, with a kindly face and brown hair, and a warm smile.

"Ah, I'm not drinking at all, actually." She said sheepishly. "Can't stand alcohol. But I wouldn't mind some company. What's your name?" She asked as the man sat down with his pint.

"Eliot. Eliot Fisher." He said. "And yours? You don't sound like you're from this side of the pond."

"Lenore." She said. "And, no. I'm here for a study abroad. It's….certianlly something." she said.

They spoke for hours. Eliot seemed to have a never-ending list of stories to tell, and she was happy to listen.

It was in the middle of one of the stories that she saw him. It was the man in the Fishbowl. It had to be him. She could never forget that face- or the moping look that seemed to be permanently stuck there.

And Lord help her he was even hotter in person.

"And then- Lenore? Is everything alright?" Elliot asked, and looked behind him. His face lit up when he saw the man, and she had to snap herself out of her haze as he approached.

"I hope I am not interrupting something." The Man said. His voice was black silk, smooth and dark. Jesus H. Christ that just made him even hotter.

"No, no it's alright." Eliot said, and turned to her. "I hope to talk to you later." He said to Lenore. "But I have some catching up to do." He said.

"Yes, I do hear it's rude to keep your friends waiting." The Man said to Eliot, and Eliot positively beamed. They moved away to another table, and Lenore was left gobsmacked.

What. The. Fuck. She threw back the rest of her soda, knowing full well that it wasn't going to do anything.

Soon the fishbowl man stood, and headed to the door. She had to do something, she had no idea if she would ever see either of them again.

"Excuse me?" She called out, and the man stopped.

"Yes?" He asked, and turned to her.

"I…what's your name?" She asked. "I…okay this is going to sound crazy and I understand if you don't believe me but I….I've dreamed about you for the last twenty years." She said, the words spilling out before she could really think about it. "You were…you were in a fishbowl. Or, well, more like just a big glass ball but I mean…." She said.

He was next to her in two long strides. He had an incredibly intense look on his face. "What did you say?" he asked.

"I-I….." Lenore stuttered. "I dreamed about you in a glass ball." She said. "I know it's crazy but I…."

"Who are you?" He asked, and Lenore blinked.

"I asked you first." She said, a little taken aback at the sudden intensity.

"You know things that you could not possibly know." He said. "There must be a reason why you know what you do. So tell me. Who. Are. You?" He asked and she blinked up at him.

She should not find this as hot as she did. Fuck.

"I, um, my name's Lenore. Lenore Abernathy." She said sheepishly.

"Is everything alright?" Eliot said, and it broke the tension for just a moment.

"Perhaps." The man said, his dark eyes still piercing through her. "You are not from England, are you?" He asked, and tilted his head.

"N-No." She said. "This is my first time in the country."

He studied her, and then narrowed his eyes. "You are not lying." He said.

"No?" she asked. Why would I?"

"Come with me." He said, and beckoned her to follow.

She heard Eliot sigh behind her. "As mysterious as ever, my friend." He said as she stood, and followed him out into the night.

o.0.o

"Do you know who I am?" He asked as they walked down the cobblestone street.

"No." She said and shook her head. "I…you never really said anything in my dreams." She said. "Or really ever did much but sit there. Really the only thing I actually know about you is what you look like naked."

That earned her an almost glare from the man.

"What? It's the truth." She said. "Who even are you, anyway?" She asked.

The man sighed at that, and put his hands in the pockets of his dark blazer jacket.

"I am known by many names, the most recent of which is Morpheus." He said and looked over to her, and Lenore just raised an eyebrow.

"You're who now?"

"Morpheus, Dream of the Endless." He said. "I am the ruler of The Dreaming, and the Lord of Sleep."

"No fucking way." Lenore said and shook her head. "You're shitting me."

"I assure you that I am not. For the past century I have been trapped in the basement of a man named Rodrick Burgess." He said.

"Wait. Rodrick Burgess? That magical hack?" She asked.

"You know of him?

"Ehhh." She said, with a non-committal motion of her hand. "I know that he was a rival to Crowley. I dabble in sigil magic every now and then, but modern sigil magic is a lot different than the bullshit that Crowley an his ilk were into."

"I can assure you that his magic worked."

"Just because it worked doesn't mean it wasn't bullshit. He was a cult leader." She said. "which automatically makes him a shit person. There's a lot of stuff that can work but that doesn't make it good, ethical, or right. Hell, one of the books I read said that he kept the devil in……his…basement….oh fuck. That…that wasn't a tall tale, was it?" she asked.

"It was not." He said and shook his head.

"…..You got out a few months ago, didn't you?" She asked.

"I did, yes. Why?"

"Because that's when the dreams stopped. Were you…were you giving me those dreams? I mean if you're…." She said, and motioned to him. "Morpheus, Lord of Sleep, King of The Dreaming, all that fun stuff." She said.

"I did not." He said. "I was cut off from my realm during my imprisonment. Which is what makes you so interesting." He said. "Just why were you dreaming of me while I was imprisoned?"

"My dude that's exactly what I'd like to know as well." she said as she looked up at him.

He was deathly pale in the moonlight, his skin like porcelain and his eyes like two chocolate diamonds.

His clothes did little to hide the lines of his body, especially since she knew them so well. She knew exactly what was under that coat, that shirt, those slacks.

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair at all.

"'My dude'?" He asked, arching his eyebrow. "An odd way to address an Endless."

"One: I'm not exactly sure what an 'endless' is, and two: I deal with stress with humor. So humor me for a bit, yeah?" she said.

"As you wish." He said, sounding almost…amused. "You are odd, for a mortal." he said offhandedly.

"Yeah, well, you ain't the first to say something like that. Minus the 'mortal' part, at least." She said, trying to hide a grin.

"Look, it's um…getting late, and as much as I genuinely would love to keep talking and figure this out, I need to crash, I got a tour early in the morning." She said. "I'll be seeing you?" She asked.

He tilted his head, and she saw what could only be described as a ghost of a small cross his face. "I think you shall."

#the sandman #dream of the endless #dream x original character #morpheus x oc #dream x oc #lord morpheus

[redrobin-detective]

while you were sleeping

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Grandpa Max said in a gravelly, rough voice he only used when he was barely holding onto his anger. Gwen held her crossed arms tightly, trying to seem stern when she really felt scared. “You are going to relinquish your control over my Grandson and you are going to do it now or else-”

“Or else what, Grandpa?” Ben asked with a blank expression. Or at least, the thing wearing Ben’s face and body did. It hadn’t quite mastered fine motor control yet so seeing her cousin’s usually animated face so slack, his posture so awkward like a puppet on a string... it was unnerving. 

“Or I’m going to remove you from his person and get him back myself,” Grandpa growled. He slammed his hands on the railings of the stretcher Ben was sitting on and leaned close to his face. “And don’t call me Grandpa, you are not my boy, you are not even real. You are a hunk of metal and machinery and I don’t care if you are the most powerful device in the universe, Omnitrix, I will tear you apart piece by piece to rescue my family.”

The Omnitrix tilted Ben’s head awkwardly, it’s too bright green eyes staring at Grandpa Max with a fury Gwen rarely saw from her cousin. 

“You will never separate us. We will not allow it,” the Omnitrix hissed, clawing Ben’s right hand protectively over the alien watch. It’s usual green interface was blank having spread itself through Ben’s entire body. Three days they had just assumed Ben was tired from the battle in the Atraxi Nebula. Three days that Ben had been acting weird and not right while the Omnitrix possessed him. Three days of brushing it off until Rook had noticed the changes to the watch and alerted them that something was very, very wrong. “And you’re one to talk about saving us,” the Omnitrix spat out. “All you do is make demands of us, send us far and wide to fix other people’s problems and never helping our own.”

“Cut it out with this we and us. Ben is a person and you’re just a machine,” Grandpa sighed with frustration, rubbing at his eyes. 

“There is no Ben or Omnitrix, there is only us,” the Omnitrix stated as if it were obvious. “We have long since merged. Ben and I are one in the same which is how we know how damaged we are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Grandpa sneered.

“It means,” the Omnitrix continued with lidded, angry eyes, “that Ben doesn’t want to come out. His mental state collapsed in battle leaving our physical form in danger. We had to take control to get us to safety. Ben is safe and cared for right where he is and he will return when he is ready and not a moment before.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Grandpa Max screamed, finally losing his cool. Gwen flinched and she noticed the Omnitrix slid its eyes over towards her before flickering back to Grandpa. “According to Azmuth, you’re not supposed to be sentient, you’re not supposed to possess your host! Why am I supposed to believe you that you’re not holding Ben hostage?”

“Because we have been there for every injury, every bout of self-doubt and loneliness, every tear shed in grief and misery,” the Omnitrix whispered with venom dripping from every word. It’s eyes glowed so brightly it cast dark, ominous shadows on Ben’s face. “While you and everyone else looked the other way and pretended it was fine to thrust the entire universe on a child’s shoulders. The only one we have been able to rely on for years is ourselves and it wasn’t enough.” 

“I-,” Grandpa Max started to defend before deflating a bit. He looked over at her, unsure of what to say. Gwen gave him a curt shoulder shrug; she hadn’t exactly been overly attentive to Ben’s mental health the last few years herself. With the way he acted, it was easy to assume he was handling things alright but the signs were there now that she was looking. It shouldn’t have gotten this bad that the Omnitrix had to possess him and point Ben’s struggles out. “It’s not like that, Ben would’ve told us if it was too much.”

“Which is why his psyche is in fractured pieces,” the Omnitrix said with an eye roll. It was just how Ben did it, for all that the actions were jilted and ungainly, it had Ben’s mannerisms down exactly. “We left the Master in your care for years and this is how we ended up.”

The Omnitrix leaned forward, it’s elbows balanced on Ben’s knees and it’s fingers laced together under Ben’s chin. It stared at them judgement in it’s stolen eyes. “So here is what is going to happen, Grandpa and Cousin. We are going to take care of Benjamin, as we have done from the moment of our joining. We will keep our body healthy and safe from harm, we will patrol and go on missions to keep our home and the universe intact. We will also work to undo the damage you have done to Ben and when he is healed and ready to resume control, then we will retreat and let Ben make the decisions.”

“You can’t do that,” Grandpa said with a dry rasp. 

“We can,” the Omnitrix countered steadily. “You will have to kill us to separate us and we will kill you before we let any harm come to Ben. Do you understand?”

“You say we’ve hurt Ben,” Gwen said softly, not liking the Omnitrix’s unfocused, uncoordinated gaze on her. “We probably have just like he has done the same to us. We’re human, just because you love someone doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes.” It frowned in thought. “But you don’t heal by locking yourself up and not addressing the problem. If Ben, if he’s hurting, then he needs to be out here where we can fix it. I know you love him and want to protect him but this isn’t the answer.”

For the first time since the conversation began, the harsh look softened on Ben’s face. It almost looked human this way. If the Omnitrix and Ben really were one being by this point, then it wouldn’t give into anger for long. It just wasn’t in their nature. 

“You are right in a way, Gwen,” the Omnitrix said with a slight nod, sitting up from it’s aggressive slouch. “It’s not a surprise, you’re right most of the time,” the Omnitrix said with a little quirk of the lips that was very Ben. The mirthful expression tightened into one of frustration. “But we still need time. Ben is fragile right now, he needs to rest, to recover. When he, when we, are ready then we will listen.”

“Okay,” Gwen nodded, reaching out and grabbing Grandpa’s hand tightly before he could fight anymore. “Okay, well we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Right, thanks,” the Omnitrix looked away and picked at Ben’s ripped up jeans. Did the device share Ben’s ADHD? Was it just copying Ben’s nervous habits to trick them or were the two of them so blended together it wasn’t one or the other but simply different parts of a single whole? She couldn’t help but wonder if Ben would’ve been this same person if the Omnitrix had never bonded with him. 

“Well, it’s late and we’re tired. We’re gonna play some video games then meet Rook for patrol tomorrow unless you plan to stop us from doing our job.” The Omnitrix said, it’s voice heavy with accusation as it glared at Grandpa. 

“You may go,” Grandpa said forcefully, unhappy with the situation but unable to stop it. “But this discussion isn’t over.”

“Of course not, I’m still waiting for your apology about your treatment of us,” the Omnitrix sniffed with a flippant wave as it hopped off the stretcher and walked out of the room where it would continue to act as Ben and live his life for who knows how long. But who was to say that he wasn’t Ben, some aspect of him that they never saw. Either way, dealing with it, dealing with them, just got a lot more complicated. 

#I watched both venom movies today and was... inspired #everyone keeps talking about how fun and cute the omnitrix possession au is #and I still cant help but see the inherent horror in it #IS it Ben? IS the omnitrix such a part of Ben that they're indistinguishable? #How can you know when one begins and the other ends? #this could still just be an aspect of this blended BenOmnitrix person #one that the main Ben personality kind of pushes down and is now shining through with Ben kind of retreated #and it loves Ben so so much #and is furious and protective as hell on his behalf #can you imagine talking to someone you know super well and finding them almost exactly the same but still *different* #and almost perfect copy bc it IS ben the watch knows every single detail about ben #its honestly just the motor issues and its more forceful aggressive personality #but once that smooths out... how would they even know if Ben 'returned' #is it really a return if hes been here all along and its just been a different aspect of a personality #ok Im getting way too metaphysical when I have work early tomorrow #friendly reminder this au haunts me #I am incapable of thinking of it as cute #when the very idea terrifies me

[blueathens]

His Shell

Summary: ‘The entire world could be falling down upon him, but he wouldn’t care as long as he had her.’

Song: Can You Hold Me by NF Quote: ‘He was safe with her.’

I put in so many request for this one, really sorry...I didn’t mean to...

Masterlist//Dusk Till Dawn Masterlist//Agape Masterlist

“What is all of this?” Was the first words that fell from Ben’s tired mouth as he stepped into the Livingroom, dropping his off-white rucksack on the white marbled floors under him as he looked around at the room that lead to the dining room full of candles, gentle flowers, soft playing music, dim lighting, and the smell of something from heaven – pasta.

“You made my favourite?” Ben called out as he ventured through the rooms, trying to find the woman in charge of such sweetness. His stomach craved for her speciality that he could forever eat if he was given the choice. The smell of tomatoes and fresh seasoning filled caught his sense as he came closer towards the kitchen where his lover was swaying her hips to the beats that came from the red radio on the windowsill, dancing in one of his much longer shirts as he admired her from the doorway, crossing his arms and leaning against it as he just watched the one thing that always went right for him.

The entire world could be falling down upon him, but he wouldn’t care as long as he had her.

But in truth the world was falling down upon him, everything was going wrong with him lately especially in his career…he had just return from the euros – not playing a game and he was meant to go on a trip with his mates but all his heart desired was her.

And here she was dancing in his kitchen with the high spirits of angels and joy, not once mirroring his emotions…but his emotions changed when he saw her, smile instantly on his face as he just sees her in her own space, and if he wasn’t so tired of everything he would dance with her…but alas he was tired, so he just had to admire the angel in his kitchen.

“There’s a bath running for you upstairs, I’ll suggest getting into it whilst dinner continues to cook.” She hummed as she stirred the water. Ben walked towards her, wrapping his arms round her waist and pressed his forehead against her back.

“Can you wash my hair for me darling? I’m too tired.” He muttered against her back. He heard her tell him to go up and she’ll be there in a few and she kept her word. She kneeled down by the bath, fingers massaging his head as she rubbed the shampoo into it, humming the low music from downstairs.

“Do you think I’m good enough?” His voice was quiet, rough and all round just sad. It was clear he’s given up on himself through the way he asked, through the way his eye could look down even with them closed and how his small smile was now a frown.

“You’re more than enough.”

“Then why aren’t I playing?” He asked, eyes opening as he moved his head to look at her, her hands falling down the side of the bath where her fingers dipped into the warm bath that had the bath bomb still hissing in. “It’s just,” he groans loudly. “It’s just feels like I’m not enough, that I’m not enough for them a-and if I’m not-”

“Because their dicks…but Benji you will play again,” her hands went up to hold his cheeks, thumbs rubbing smoothing circles as water dripped from them and run off from his chin. “You will play again and you will be amazing and prove everyone wrong…you are still Ben Chilwell…you just got to believe in yourself and when you do you’ll be great.” A hand of hers moved towards his hair, pushing back his hair as some fingers twirled the wet strands of it. He leaned his cheek on the hand still caressing his face as he sighed in content.

Everything was okay when he has her.

“You promise?”

“I know so.”

“You know?” His eyes closed as he began to smile again.

“I’m a psychic, I can see these things.”

It was all going good once again, Ben begging her once again for them to just eat her pasta forever and them watching Pirates of the Caribbean. It was all going well until they were sound asleep…well they were supposed to be, but Ben’s mind was rushing as he imagined the disappointment everyone will give him if he doesn’t become himself again.

The disappointment from her.

“Ben.” Y/n tapped Ben’s cheek. “Ben.” She shook him. “Ben.” He sat up in a hurry, breathing heavy as he panted as some sweat fell from his forehead. His head quickly turned to look at her, and he lunged forwards, laying on top of her as he clung onto her for dear life. “It’s okay.” She whispered, hand running through his hair as she tried to calm him down. “It’s all going to be okay. You’re fine now…I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“You was so…so…so disappointed in-”

“I could never be disappointed in you.” Y/n instantly cut his worried tone off as she ran her fingers through his slightly damp hair. “You’ve always going to have me. You’ve got all of me…”

He was safe with her.

She was like the bars in a prison that kept him protected from the evils of the world. When he was with her it felt like he could see rainbows once more and everything was going to be okay as long as he had her.

“Can I be the little spoon tonight…I just want to know you’re there and-”

“Of course,” she kissed the top of his head as before he rolled of from her, back facing her as she wrapped her arms round him, his hands finding hers as she snuggled into his back. His lifted her small hands to his lips as he pressed a thousand kisses to it to reassure she knew how much he adored her.

“You,” he began, sniffling slightly as he was welcomed with the warmth of the world, “you make me feel safe.”

She made him feel as safe as tortoise within it’s shell as it protected itself from all the harshness of the world, allowing it to stay warm and safe from its own embrace. And in a way she was his shell right now, holding onto him tightly to reassure him that she was there…she was always going to be there and make him feel safe.

She was his shell.

“You just make me feel safe.” He repeated and she placed a gentle kiss to his bare back.

“You make me feel safe too, Benji...”

And perhaps her powers did work for he scored four goals soon afterwards, including his first goal for England...he made her proud like always, and that was never going to change. 

Taglist: @mountsmason @masonsutd @chelseamount @chvlwells @somedaytakethetime @mrschilly @itscominghome @jorgiswifey @whiskeypowder @footballmusic19 @moneymasn​ @in-my-body-bag​ @nooooojimmyprotested​ @1-800-benji-chilwell

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell oneshot #ben chilwell one shot #ben chilwell oneshots #ben chilwell fics #ben chilwell fluff #ben chilwell fic #ben chilwell fanfiction #footballers x reader #footballers imagine #footballers imagines #football imagine #footballers #footballer #football #england nt #chelsea #chelsea fc #chelsea imagines #blueathensfics

[beels-burger-babe]

Melodious Mourning

***Ben Platt?! Hell yes! Okay! I am so so excited about this! Thank you so much @ester-is-here for reminding me how much I love this song. I hope everyone enjoys it. You can listen to the song, if you haven't already, here. Disclaimer: In Case You Don't Live Forever and its lyrics do not belong to me. They belong to the brilliant Ben Platt*** Poly!MC Summary: It's MC's anniversary of their relationship with the Lords of the Devildom. They've planned a little something special to share with them; something that will express how much they love the brothers, while also preparing them for a tragic truth. The time had come. After a long night of celebrating your anniversary with the seven sins, it was time for you to finally show them the surprise you had prepared for them. You giggled as you dragged a tired Belphegor into the music room by his hand, the others following closely behind you. Asmodeus made a small noise of disappointment and leaned against the grand piano in the middle of the room. "You know when you said you had a surprise for us, I must admit this wasn't exactly what I had in mind, " you snorted as Satan smacked Asmo on the back of the head. Asmo yelped and held his head as he glared at Satan. "Though I'm sure that whatever this surprise it will be equally as lovely. Geez, let me finish before you ruin my hair!" Mammon came up beside you. "But what is this surprise though? Is it a diamond? Money? Jewelry? That lost treasure that we never found?" You smiled softly at the Avatar of Greed and poked his nose. "It's better than that. Or at least I hope it will be," You sat down at the piano and took some sheet music out of your bag. "I um...I wanted to sing a song for all of you," you nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "With our anniversary being today, I've been thinking a lot about us and all the time that's passed and the what the future will hold, and I-I just thought that this song would be the perfect way to express all of that."

Lucifer placed a hand on the small of your back as he looked down at you with an awe-filled, adoring expression. "I wasn't aware you could play. I would've loved to play with you sometime." You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. "There will be time for that in the future. For now, it's time for your surprise," you hovered your fingers over the keys and hesitated. The song the message shared was important but would be hard for your lovers to hear. You glanced over at them. "J-Just listen, please. Okay?" Beel frowned at the serious look on your face and nodded. He could sense that there was something important about this performance, something almost dire, that clearly frightened you. "Of course." You took in a shaky breath as you began to move your finger across the keys.

"You put all your faith in my dreams. You gave me the world that I wanted. What did I do to deserve you?" Your smooth voice filled the room and wrapped around the hearts of each of the demons. They smiled gently at your words as a warmth filled their chests. In the years that they were fortunate enough to have you in their lives, they had spent every last second doing their best to keep you happy. They would give you the world if you asked for it, and you knew that. "I follow your steps with my feet. I walk on the road that you started. I need you to know that I heard you. Every word." Since coming here, the brothers have shown you a number of things. Lucifer taught you to be more confident and take pride in the things that you've achieved. Mammon taught you that it was okay to be selfish sometimes to do the things that you wanted. Together, you and Leviathan learned that the only opinion that truly matters is your own. Satan taught you that you define your own fate and meaning and that no one can say who you are except you. Asmodeus taught you to appreciate the pleasures in life, no matter how big or small. Beelzebub engrained in you that your body is a temple that you must cherish, look after, and love. And finally, Belphegore taught you that it's alright to take time for yourself. Each of them had impacted you and fundamentally changed the way that you looked at life, and you would never be able to thank them enough for that. "I've waited way too long to say. Everything you mean to me," you swallowed down the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. You had waited too long to tell them this, that much was true. By now they were irreversibly attached to you. Though you were grateful for it and loved them in return, there was something all of you had been avoiding discussing. You took in a shaky breath; you couldn't hold it off anymore. "In case I don't live forever let me tell you now," You could hear their breaths get caught in their throats. Lucifer's hand froze on your back, while Belphie quickly sat up from where he was laying on your shoulder. "MC, what are y-you saying? What are you-" Levi's voice stuttered from behind you. You couldn't bring yourself to look at them as you continued, "I love you more than you'll wrap your head around," you finally glanced over at Levi. The otaku's eyes were wide and filled with fear and concern as he scanned you for any missed injuries or signs of illness. At finding none, his eyebrows narrowed in confusion. You offered him a reassuring smile before looking back down at the keys. "In case I don't live forever, let me tell you the truth. I'm everything that I am because of you." Satan's trembling hand gripped onto your shoulder as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. "MC, my love, that is beautiful. But you can't just say something like that and not expect us to be concerned. Are you alright? Should I be getting a doctor or Barbatos or do I need to take you to a human hospital?" You paused for a moment to turn to your lovers. "I'm okay. There's nothing wrong with me, only that I'm human," you watched as they tensed in realization. "Treasure, that's not-" Mammon stepped forward, but you lifted a hand to stop him. "I've been thinking about the passing of time a lot lately, a-a-and I need to say this. Please, just let me finish?" The sound of your voice close to tears had the brothers wanting to do nothing more than wrap you up in their arms and never let you go again. But there was this desperate glint in your eyes, that none of them could deny. Belphie laid his head back down on your shoulder and buried his face into the fabric of your top. "Go ahead, angel. We're listening." You turned your head to lightly kissed his head, whispering a small thank you, before picking back up the song.

The music filled the room once more, but unlike before where it filled your lovers with joy at the thought of such a sentimental gift, a feeling of dread and unease now swirled in their stomachs. "I've carried this song in my mind. Listen it's echoing in me. But I never helped you to hear it." Your mortality was something that had weighed on your thoughts for years now. You never mentioned it for you knew that the brothers would just brush off the subject. They had lost so much already; they didn't even want to begin thinking about the day when you would no longer be with them. But with each passing year, the subject had become more and more crucial, yet you were still too much of a coward to bring such a distressing topic to light. You had hoped the song would lighten the blow, but based on the way Mammon's eyes were squeezed shut and his fists were pressed to his mouth, as though whispering a prayer, it hadn't. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight as you felt your throat tighten. "We, we've only got so much time. I'm pretty sure it would kill me if you didn't know that pieces of me were pieces of you." It was true. You carried the boys with you where ever you went, both literally through your pacts and figuratively through the pieces of their personalities that you have mirrored throughout the years. You often find yourself mimicking Lucifer's eye-brow raise when someone is acting particularly stupid. The sight of food or beautiful clothes causes your heart to thrumb with excitement, just like it does for Beel and Asmo. You have a deeper appreciation for anime and astrology from your many nights with Levi and Belphie. You're more knowledgeable and educated in literature from your countless hours in the library with Satan. You were more conscious with your money after your few attempts of trying to teach Mammon how to budget. You were one with your boys; a beautiful collage of the experiences and times that you had all spent together. You just hoped that they knew that. "I've waited way too long to say. Everything you mean to me." Asmodeus claimed your other side, as one of his hands moved up to delicately wipe a tear from your face. You noticed, with an aching heart, that his cheeks were tearstained as well. Your lip trembled as you opened your mouth to sing the chorus. "In case I don't live forever let me tell you now. I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around. In case I don't live forever, let me tell you the truth. I'm everything that I am because of you." At this point, you weren't singing so much as you were sobbing. You could feel your hands tremble heavily as you pushed them to keep playing. The only thing keeping you from breaking down completely was the solid feeling of the brother's touch supporting you as they lent you their strength. You squeezed your eyes shut and played hard on the keys, causing the brothers to jump a little as you began to belt. "I have a hero if ever I need one!" Flashes of the countless times that they had come to your rescue flashed in your mind. Unknown to you, the brothers weren't thinking of them rescuing you at all, but rather how you had saved each and every one of them. "I just look up to you and I see one! I'm a man 'cause you taught me to be one," your voice quivered with emotion as you held the falsetto note at the end. You leaned over the keys, suppressed cries falling from your lips as your shoulders shook. Beel placed a hand over top of one of your own and met your gaze. "You don't have to finish this MC. We understand what you're trying to say and we can just end the song here and talk if you want." It was tempting. Honestly, your hands our practically useless with how much they were shaking. But this wasn't just for them anymore. Speaking the words that had been swarming your mind for too many years out loud, although painful, also freed you from a sense of guilt that you weren't even aware that you were carrying. "I-I'd like to finish it. I-If you all don't mind." Belphie's arms came to wrap around your waist and Asmo

pressed a kiss to your cheek. Lucifer's hand on your back moved in comforting circles, while Satan repeated the motion with his thumb on your shoulder. Levi moved closer to lean onto the piano for support. Mammon gave you a tearful smile as Beel lifted his hand off of yours. "Of course. Take your time, honey bun." You took several deep breaths to calm yourself before lightly playing the chords. You met the eyes of your partners and hoped that they could see the utter adoration and passion that was flooding through your veins for them. "In case you don't live forever let me tell you now," you playfully elbowed Belphie and turned your head to kiss Asmo's cheek. "I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around." As the music picked up the tempo once more, you couldn't help but grin even as tears poured down your cheeks. "In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth. I'm everything that I am-" You closed your eyes, tilting your head back, as you allowed yourself to give in to the music and fully feel everything that you had been suppressing. "Woah, Woah, Woah. " As you began to sing the melody again, your eyes snapped open as you heard the brothers harmonize alongside you. Lucifer, Satan and Beel's low voices rang deep like the growl of thunder. Asmodeus and Belphie hit the higher octaves, chiming like bells ringing in the wind. Mammon and Levi sang the original notes with you, remaining strong and pure like waves against a shore. You laughed brightly as a radiant sensation of love blanketed you in warmth and soaked up any traces of fear that lingered. "In case I don't live forever, let me tell you the truth." You looked around at the brothers tenderly and softly played the final notes. They all smiled back at you, eyes gleaming with that same sense of passionate affection that you had felt moments earlier. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you came to a realization. No matter how much or little time you had left with each other, you would spend every moment of it at each other's side loving another unconditionally. "As long as I'm here as I am," you rested your head on top of Belphie's and smiled softly, "so are you." *** This was so sweet and sad at the same time and I just LOVED writing it! Oh my goodness, I haven't written a song fic in ages, so this was a little challenging, but I just loved it so much. Thank you @ester-is-here for this beautiful request!*** TAGLIST: @thegrimgrinningghost

@henry-and-the-seven-lords

@satans-beloved-riv

@cosmixbun

@sufzku

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me fic #obey me fan fic #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me demon brothers #obey me angst #hurt/comfort #song fic #ben platt #obey me comfort #poly!mc #polyamarous relationship #my writing

[therenlover]

Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

 💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four

Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

#marvel #fanfiction #x reader #bucky barnes x reader #loki x reader #peter maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #ralph bohner x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #zemo x reader #hank mccoy x reader #vision x reader #tate langdon x reader #kit walker x reader #kyle spencer x reader #jimmy darling x reader #james march x reader #james patrick march x reader #kai anderson x reader #nick valentine x reader #hancock x reader #poe dameron x reader #armitage hux x reader #general hux x reader #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #han solo x reader #finn x reader

[mangofetts]

star wars filthy headcanons

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

din djarin

HUGE breeding kink. this man loves to fill you to the brim. every mandalorian learns from a young age about the resol’nare and he wants to fulfill his duty as best he can. on the subject of this, he cums a lot, like an unhealthy amount. this comes from the mando race in general.

big bondage fan. loves to use the binders on you or tie you up with rope. he uses the magnetic binders so he can pin your hands above you and keep them there without him constantly making sure they’re there. also helps him relax and make sure that you don’t make any moves to take off his helmet while he’s not paying attention (not that you would, but he likes to make sure). he also likes pinning you with his body. loves gagging you as well.

cum play. since his load is big, it doesn’t stay in you for long so he likes to go back in with his fingers and plug your cunt so no more comes out. he loves facials and/or cumming on your chest, belly, and thighs. something about that just drives him crazy, seeing you marked with him. he also scoops the cum up and feeds it to you or even rubs it into your skin like it’s oil for a massage (he’ll clean you up real good if he does that don’t worry ;))

gun play. he likes when you’re helpless under him with his blaster to your forehead as he tells you to not move or make any noise. there have beens times where he fucks you on his blaster and makes you suck all your juices off of it. HE ALWAYS MAKES SURE THE CHAMBER IS EMPTY AND THE SAFETY IS ON BEFORE HE DOES THIS. he does not want to hurt you unless you want it and he would never shoot you.

control and authority kink. he likes to have control over you. likes to pull your strings and make you do whatever he says. even better if you’re a brat, he’ll just have to be rougher with you.

a dom/sub relationship, with you being the sub most of the time. you guys use a lot of bdsm elements. you don’t call him any names in bed unless he wants you to. it’s either mando or din.

cockwarming!! he likes to make sure that his cum stays inside of you and he likes the feeling of you around him.

praise kink both ways. he likes to praise you for taking him so well, for listening to him. and he likes to be praised because he wants to know what he’s doing is good. he’s been deprived of praise since he was little (the mandalorians are proud of him, just never showed it) so he needs it when he’s with you.

paz vizsla

once again, huge breeding kink for the same reasons as din. he also just loves kids and would like to have his own clan instead of looking after other foundlings. he also cums an inhuman amount.

DADDY KINK. he loves being your daddy in bed, especially when you’re nice and desperate for him. this also has to do with the breeding kink, just all around big daddy vibes.

body worship. people are often afraid of him and he blames it on how big he is. sometimes he needs someone to tell him he’s not frightening. he loves doing to same for you, complimenting you endlessly if you need some pick-me-ups or if he’s just in the mood (which is literally all the time.

cockwarming. after filling you up, he likes to clean you up, and then put his soft cock back inside of you so his cum stays inside of you. will usually end up in morning sex.

praise kink. he LOVES being praised by you. telling him that he’s so good, that he’s absolutely beautiful, and that he’s strong makes him PREEN. he tries to return the favor by praising you, but he stammers and stutters it out because he’s not used to saying stuff like that out loud.

size kink. this man is 6’3”, almost 6’6” with his armor on. he loves smaller people because they’re tiny and fragile and he could just crush them in the palm of his hand. he is THICK. 100% GRASS FED BEEF MY GUY. big tiddies, big arms, big guy in general. he is very blessed under the belt, his cock is inhumanly big. he likes to hold you down and make you take it. likes to watch you take it too. if you want to drive him crazy, make it look like you are absolutely struggling to take him; any form of that will make him keen. tell him that his cock is too big for you, that’s he’s so big and that he’s going to split you in half. he will break you and you won’t be able to walk for days.

definitely a voyeur. he likes watching you pleasure yourself. he also likes being watched, even more than you’d think.

likes when you play hard to get. like he’s a predator and your his pray. alas you won’t run very far, his legs are longer than yours, but it’s what he does that makes it worth it.

boba fett

control kink, this is pretty obvious. notorious bounty hunter. he likes having complete control over you. this leads into his bondage kink.

bondage, also likes using the binders on you, no rope though, just the binders. he likes to watch you struggles and they make pretty bruises on your wrists and ankles.

likes to mark you up, make sure everyone knows that you’re his. he doesn’t want to lose his baby now does he? bites and bruises all over your body from his mouth, hands, and sometimes his boots if you’re into that.

spanking as well, he likes to make sure that you stay in your place. he doesn’t like a brat; he knows how to tame one though!!

gunplay FOR THE WIN. likes to hold the gun to your head while he fucks you, sometimes puts it in your mouth. he likes to fuck you with it and make you suck the barrel of it off. LIKE I SAID BEFORE HE MAKES SURE THAT THE CHAMBER IS EMPTY AND THAT THE SAFETY IS ONE. also likes using vibroblades on you too.

likes to slap and pull your hair.

HE CANNOT BE GENTLE AT THE BEGINNING OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP. you have to sit him down and explain/convince him to take some scenes slow. once he gets the hang of it he likes slow sex. likes to revel in the pleasure.

definitely likes to tease. he likes seeing you desperate. loves keeping you wrapped around his finger.

darth maul

breeding kink, he wants you to get pregnant SO BAD. he really wants kids of his own. he LOVES coming in you and plugging your cunt with a toy.

cockwarming. something about having his cock in you relaxes him immensely. he likes having you in his lap while he works and you sleep (or squirm).

likes to sub AND dom. he likes being fucked and fucking. ruling mandalore is hard and sometimes he needs to give someone else control. usually the scene is you fucking him with your cock, or you fucking him with your hole. either way is a great time for him.

likes to hurt you, but only if you like it. most of it is lightsaber play and knife play. he likes watching you scream and writhe under him. one time he used the saber to carve his initials on your thigh. another way he likes to hurt you is digging his sharp horns into your inner thigh while he’s eating you out. he likes watching you flinch away from him.

praise kink. he is not what people picture when they think of a handsome man. so whenever you praise him is a nice time for him.

MASTER KINK. he likes being called this, it’s like he has an apprentice even though palpatine told him he was incapable of having one.

likes collars and harnesses. he likes letting people know that you’re his. plus your chest looks amazing in those harnessses.

DIRTY TALK AND PET NAMES. this man is one smooth motherfucker. he’ll call you princess/prince, baby, kitten, darling, sweetheart. he will whisper dirty things to you, just to get you riled up.

kylo ren/ben solo

the biggest dom AND sub you will ever see. he likes being fucked and fucking.

pain kink, if he’s subbing, he likes when you pull his hair, cut him with his pocket knife, burn him with his own lightsaber, or even you stepping on his dick. not too hard, you don’t want to damage his goods, but hard enough for it to be slightly painful. the thrill of it all makes him blow his load HARD. if he has any open wounds he likes to press on them so more blood comes out + it’s painful. scenes like these usually end with a short trip to the medbay. if he’s domming he will not hurt you, not even superficially. most of the pain comes from him pulling your hair and pushing you to your knees harshly.

praise kink. after everything that’s happened, he definitely wants some soft loving sometimes. he likes giving and receiving praise!! although it takes him a bit to get the words out since he never says those things out loud anywhere else.

also kind of has a master kink, but prefers to hear his name over that.

he takes almost all of his stress out in your sessions so he’s nice a pliable after a good fuck or two.

aftercare is HIGH TIER. he has a nice bed, you like to stretch out on it while he gets you a glass of water and a warm wet towel to clean you up. usually some back rubs as well.

he loves being degraded. being told that his dick is too small, or that he’s a slut, or even that he’s nothing gets him going like nothing else. any insults you throw at him will be met with a groan or a keen if it’s especially mean.

can absolutely go more than one round. his stamina IS CRAZY.

these are off of the top of my head lol

#star wars #din djarin #paz vizsla #boba fett #darth maul #kylo ren #ben solo #the mandolarian #din djarin x reader #paz vizsla x reader #boba fett x reader #darth maul x reader #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #kylo ren smut #darth maul smut #paz vizsla smut #boba fett smut #din djarin smut #x reader

[goodgirlofglory]

A hairy situation / One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,3k

Warnings: 18+, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, oral (m/f recieving), slight fingering, hair pulling, pubic hair pulling, pubic hair!kink, dirty talk, fluffy dirty talk, slight soft dom!Steve, some standard fluff in there too.

Summary: You usually keep yourself neatly shaved for when Steve returns from missions, but this time things change and you find yourself with a full blown bush by the time Steve’s about to remove your pants. His reaction is quite different from what you expected (*wink* *wink*) …

Author’s note: This has not been proofread by anyone but me, so all the mistakes are mine<3 Hope you enjoy<3

The warm water ran down your back as your hand absentmindedly caressed your naked stomach. Nowadays the shower was the only relief for your touch-starved body.

Usually, Steve would be gone for about three months when on missions. This one was bordering on four, and he had warned you the prognosis was five. You were already wallowing in self pity, your body practically humming with built up arousal at being left untouched for so long.

Only a month left, only a month left, only a month left...

Your hand found your mound and started playing in the curls that were adorning it. An impressive mop of dark curls had grown there during your months of loneliness, and you had now grown quite used to feeling the soft hair between your fingers. 

Usually you kept yourself bald except for a neatly trimmed triangle or heart above your slit - one time you even managed to make a circle with a star in the middle, which had made Steve both cringe, blush and laugh his eyes out at the same time. 

He’d fucked you all the same though, quite fervently too if memory served you right.

Now, however, you had let the razor lie for a while and suddenly you were sporting the bush of a 60’s hippie.

You quite enjoyed it, and would actually miss it somewhat when you’d shave it upon Steve’s return.

Steve always gave you a heads up when he returned from missions. Several actually. Usually he would call once he had landed at the compound, so he could hear your voice and how happy you became once you realized he was back. 

Then he would text once he had debriefed, showered and was leaving the compound, and then again once he had reached your apartment complex, mostly because he couldn’t help his excitement. 

That last text was usually just a heart emoji (you had laboured hard to teach him texting - especially emoji use - so those hearts were particularly satisfying).

So you always had plenty of time to clean the apartment up a bit, shower (and shave), dress in something sexy and maybe even light some candles and put on some sweet 30’s jazz (a special treat for Steve).

That’s why you weren’t stressing about letting your hair grow out down there, it would simply take a bit longer to shave once you got the notice from Steve.

Which would be a month away at least.

God

You stepped out of the shower, got dressed and left for work, ready to throw yourself into your tasks at the gallery in order to distract yourself from your misery. Maybe you’d even get some Ben and Jerry’s on your way home.

§

You struggled to push through the front door with your work bag on one arm and a bag of groceries (Ben and Jerry’s included) on the other. That’s when you noticed the music softly playing from the living room. Weird, you didn’t remember leaving the radio on…

When you’d closed the door and shook off your shoes, you noticed the distinct smell of your honey and rose body soap lingering in the air. There was no way that had kept since your shower this morning. Something was amiss...

You barely begun to feel anxious when a large pair of hands clasped around your face and a pair of familiar lips crushed onto yours. Your yelp was muffled by the passionate kiss, and a second later your mind caught up and you realized. 

It was Steve! There, in your apartment, his tongue sliding passed your lips and into your mouth as it opened willingly for him. 

The bag of groceries fell to the ground along with your bag and you flung your arms around his neck as he whipped his hands around the back of your thighs and hoisted them up to wrap around his slim hips in one, smooth movement.

You broke away from the kiss with a gleeful squeal. 

“You’re here!?” You were dumbfounded in your joy. 

“I couldn’t stay away from my best girl any longer,” he responded with a smile, pushing you up against the front door.  

“But I didn’t get a call! Or a text. Or even a heart emoji,” you said, more incredulous than anything else. It was a wonderful surprise that caught you completely off guard, blizz surging through your body. 

“Yeah, I wanted to surprise you, actually see you when you got the news for once. I had the team do the debriefing on the jet so they could drop me off here directly,” he said as he leaned in for another kiss. “Totally worth it to see your reaction,” he said against your lips, and laughed when you slapped his chest.

“You scared me, you asshole,” you exclaimed, but you were laughing with him.

“Sorry,” he answered as he kissed his way down your jaw and onto your neck, warm hands squeezing your thighs. He didn’t sound sorry at all, teeth nipping at your pulse point, drawing a tiny gasp from your lips.

Touch-starved indeed. 

Your mind started to fog over with a wave of arousal as you started to feel down his back. The muscles rippled under your fingertips, and you raked your nails back up to his neck, eliciting a quiet groan from his throat. 

That’s when you noticed he was completely nude except for a rather tiny towel around his hips.

“You showered here? And you used my body soap?” you asked.

“I had to shower, I don’t think you could have handled the smell. Three months undercover in the Croatian black market, the last three weeks on a pig farm in the countryside. Plus, your body soap reminds me of you. Got me hard just smelling it,” he said, letting you down on your feet again as he started ripping off your layers of clothing, breath coming out in pants.

Hard indeed, you thought, as you looked down to see the tiny towel struggle against the tent at the front. 

Instinctively, you reached for it, throwing the towel off as he threw your jacket and scarf aside, grasping his hard cock in one hand, feeling how hot and heavy it was in your palm.

He threw his head back and let out a shuddering breath, hands loosely wrapped around your neck as you gave an experimental tug. He seemed pretty much as touch-starved as you. 

There was a reason you reacted so quickly once you got the heads up. Aggression, stress, adrenaline plus his enhanced physique usually meant a lot of pent up energy needed release once Steve got back from missions. You had no qualm at all being the vessel through which that energy was released. Steve would put you through the mattress two to three times during the first night back, and you absolutely fucking loved it. And you loved him, and were pretty sure he loved you back.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips as he started pushing you towards the bedroom, your hand still wrapped around his cock, pulling at it slowly as leakage began to spring forth at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight. 

“I missed you, I need you. Now,” he continued, voice breathy as his eyes gazed sweetly into your own. Your breath caught in your throat at the piercing blue. 

“God, Steve, you have no idea how much I’ve longed for you,” you heard yourself saying, emotion washing over you almost making you whimper. You still couldn’t believe he was here, a whole month before time!

The back of your knees hit the bed and he gently pushed you down onto your back, hands going straight for your pants when you froze.

Shit. A month before time. Fuck

Without the heads up you hadn’t had the opportunity to shave. You hadn’t even gotten your bag off your shoulder before he had practically thrown himself over you in the hallway.

You had no idea what this would mean to Steve. Would it be a turn off? Did women sport bushes in the 40’s? Had he even seen a woman’s pussy before he went in the ice?

The thought of this moment being ruined sparked a panic in your mind and your hands shot up to grab Steve’s wrists as he was undoing the button of your pants. 

His hands stilled and he gave you a confused look. 

“What is it?” he asked, concerned.

You gave a strained smile and bit your lips as you stared into his curious eyes. Why were you suddenly being so unsure of yourself? This was Steve, you could say anything to Steve!

“You know, since you were a month early, and didn’t text before you came over...I didn’t have time to...freshen up...down there,” you said slowly and gestured awkwardly to your crotch.

He huffed a laughter. 

“Honey, you know I love the way you taste. Just let me get these off you,” he said confidently as he undid your sipper swiftly and started to tug at the waistband of your trousers.

“It’s not that,” you said, again stopping his hands mid-movement.

You took a deep breath.

“I haven’t shaved...in four months...so it’s kinda...bushy” you said, averting your eyes in embarrassment. 

This was truly uncharted territory, seeing how you couldn’t even keep eye contact. This was the man who’d had his whole tongue up your ass. 

“Oh” he said, surprised, though there was a hint of curiosity in it. 

His eyes grew wider as he stared at your pant clad crotch, hands still on the waist band. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he focused intently on the space between your legs. You couldn’t read his expression, he didn’t seem to know exactly what he was feeling himself.

Then he slowly pulled your pants down your legs and threw them on the floor. He sat down on his knees in front of the bed and pulled at your thighs with ease until your butt was right at the edge. He never let his eyes away from your crotch, you watching him intently.

When his eyes darted up to meet yours, they were dilated to the point where only a small rim of blue shone around the black pools of...lust?

“You’ve grown a whole forest for me, have you?” he asked, voice suddenly gone dark and ruff, and he looked back down between your legs. 

You tiny lace thong concealed your slit and puckered back entrance, but not much more. On all sides of the light purple fabric was wild, dark hair, some even springing forth through the lace. You thought it was actually quite a pretty sight, but was still holding out on the verdict from Steve. 

He let a finger trail the hair that was growing on one side of your panties, and a hum rang through his chest. That seemed like something you could recognize. It was a hum of approval. Of appreciation almost.

He took one of the curls sticking out of the lace between his fingers and pulled lightly. The tugging sensation provoked a gasp from you, and the responding grunt from Steve’s lips caught both of you off guard. Your eyes met briefly in surprise, before you both returned your focus to your hairy core.

You were starting to understand his reaction now, intrigued. Reaching down, you tugged your panties to the side, letting him see your slit and the puckered lips between the two mops of hair. 

His breath came out harder as he spread his fingers through the hair before pulling at the lips, spreading them open to reveal your weeping hole and red clit, swollen and needy for attention. Without another word, Steve leaned in and gave a swipe of his tongue up the entire length of your slit, and you moaned at the pleasure that bolted through your core. 

He started licking and sucking at your leaking sex like a man starved (which he to some degree was), hands gripping your hips and holding you down as you sqiurmed at the stimulation. 

As he worked you, you threw your shirt off along with your bra, and his hands automatically reached up to your breasts as you lay back down on your back. Deftly, he rolled and pinched your hardening nipples with coarse fingertips, all while lapping at your clit with quick and wet expertise. He moaned into your core, sending a shiver up your spine and you started to rock your hips against his face in rhythm with his licks. 

You knew you wouldn't need long tonight, and when Steve pulled his right hand down and slipped two fingers right into your cunt, he only needed to curl his fingers a couple of times before you came undone, back arching and lips open in a silent scream as you came, convulsing around his fingers. He languidly licked you through your orgasm, groaning into your wet heat as you relaxed back down on the mattress, breath ragged. 

He removed his fingers from within you, and you lamented the absence. He put the fingers in his mouth, sucking greedily on the digits. He kept your eyes in a locked gaze as he moaned at the taste, and you whimpered at his unabashedness. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he said between licking the residue of your orgasm of his knuckles. 

America’s golden boy was such a dirty bastard in bed, and you couldn’t help your proud giggle at being the one who unleashed his inner beast. 

His eyes went back to your quivering cunt and he let his fingertips gently play at your entrance. You didn’t quite understand where he was going with the gesture, but didn’t mind at all. He looked on entranced as he moved his fingers around your weeping hole, and you looked at him.

“God, what a sight,” he whispered, almost to himself. “Such pretty, wet curls”.

Your cheeks flushed and you let out another giggle. His attention drew to your face, and he laughed as well as you hid your face in the crook of your elbow. He raised himself to his feet and crawled over you on the bed.

“What?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear as you giggled again.

He was so darn cute, and still rock hard, his engorged length brushing against your inner thigh.

Instead of answering, you lifted your head up and caught his lips in a kiss. Enthusiastically, he threw himself into it, gasping when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked lightly. A shiver went through him, a near pornographic groan leaving his throat. 

Oh he was on tonight 

You couldn’t wait to taste him. To feel his throbbing cock stretch your mouth, salty on your tongue. 

You gently pushed at his chest, and he let you roll him over on his back. Lord knows you would never be able to move him without his help, but you both liked the feeling of you being in charge. 

He watched you intently with those breathtaking blue eyes as you slithered down his body, laying wet kisses to his strapping chest, dipping your tongue into every divot of his abs. He let out these wonderful, small gasps every so often, his hands going into fists at his sides. 

You wasted no time when you reached his cock, only licking once at the small drop of clear fluid sitting at the tip before taking the purple head into your mouth, sucking lightly. 

Steve let out a strangled moan and threw his head back, eyes falling closed. 

"Oh my god, baby, that's it," he panted.

Spurred on by his words, you started to work your head up and down his throbbing length, pushing him further in each time. When he hit the back of your throat, you pushed through your need to gag and swallowed around him. 

He groaned, a deep, vibrating sound that went straight to your core like a lightning bolt. 

You felt his hands on the back of your head as he held you in place.

Yes, yes, yes, you thought through your body's surge for air. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat convulsed around him, and Steve called out in that stern and commanding voice above you. 

"Look at me" 

And you did. His heavy brow furrowed, cheeks flushed and lips red, swollen and slightly parted. He was a vision and your cunt clamped around nothing, screaming for attention. 

He gripped a fistful of hair and dragged your face off his cock. Your ragged breath ripped out as oxygen finally found your lounges, long strings of saliva connecting your mouth to his red and angry cock. 

You could feel him losing control of himself in the way his look darkened, his muscles twitching. You eagerly anticipated it. He gripped your jaw and slammed his mouth to yours, spit and precum mingling between you in an open and obscene kiss that was mostly tongue.

He drew you up to straddle his waist with the hand on your jaw and you eagerly obeyed his manhandling. 

You splayed one hand on his chest, while the other reached between you to grab his cock and lining it to your entrance. He let his hands glide up your thighs and settle on each ass cheek as he spread them slightly. 

You locked eyes with him as you felt his tip breach you, forcing your flesh to yield to his massive girth. 

A groan escaped his gritted teeth.

As you tried to lower yourself though, you felt his hands holding you put, not letting you move a centimeter.

You looked down at him, and you saw him smugly cock a brow at your obvious frustration. A needy whine escaped you. 

"Tell me what you need, baby," he commanded, almost encouraged. 

The cocky bastard was getting off on denying you, enjoying torturing you. 

You secretly loved it. 

"Come on, baby, tell me. What do you need?" 

You knew the questions applied to more than just the serious fucking you craved that moment, and had craved for months now. 

"I need you," you whispered, staring into his intense eyes. 

He moved you with ease a few inches down on his cock, relishing in your gasp as he stretched you so sweetly. 

"Tell me how you feel about me," he demanded, keeping you pinned in place as you squirmed in his grip. 

You whimpered in your desperation to be filled. 

"I love you, Steve. I love your face, your tongue, your cock. Even your sadistic pleasure at torturing me like this," you gritted out, nails digging into his chest. 

He groaned at your words and pushed you down on his cock in one swift motion until he bottomed out inside you. 

You struggled to take in air as he kept you put with his hands on your hips, the new torture not being able to get away.

He looked on, eyes hooded as you gripped him like a vice. 

"That's it, baby. You need this, you need me. You love me. You’re so good at taking me, swallowing me so greedily," he kept repeating as he rocked you slowly on him, waiting for you to adjust. 

"Yes,” you repeated breathily as you started moving your hips in tandem with his hands. Soon he removed them, letting them hover over your waist as you moved on your own, riding him harder and harder. 

You started riding in earnest, slamming yourself down on his cock as the squelching sounds of your arousal filled the room. 

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. Your chest swelled with pride.

His eyebrows started to raise in a telling way that made you think you were actually gonna make him come, and you moaned at the prospect.

That's when he caught you by surprise, sitting up and flipping you over so you were under him, remaining inside you the entire time. 

He wasted no time before he was pounding into you, the bed protesting the vigorous movement underneath, you encouraging it above. 

He threw one of your legs on his shoulder, sitting up on his knees to get that angle that always made you see stars. 

And boy, was he right on cue. His cock punched right onto your sweet spot and you arched your back, cunt involuntarily squeezing him. 

"G-god," you choked out, hands clasping at his thighs, feeling how his taunt, bulging muscles moved under your touch as he fucked into your yielding body, bringing you closer to the edge with every thrust.

You looked up at his face, and saw how his hand reached around your thigh to ghost above your lower abdomen, seemingly contemplating.

You were right on the edge, vision blurred, sweat on your forehead as you looked on. 

That's when he ran his fingers through the hair on the top of your mound and closed his fist around it. He took in a sharp, shuddering gasp and his movement faltered for a moment. His brows raised again. 

His hand tugged harshly at your pubic hair and to your utter surprise, your orgasm exploded within you, your mouth opening in a small whine as your body went rigid. 

Steve groaned deep in his chest before his eyes rolled back. His hand tugged harder on the fistful of hair, sparking your prolonged orgasm with a painful sting. 

He gave a few, deep thrusts as his own release coursed through him and into you, filling you up with four months worth of pent up juice. 

Through your haze you squeezed his thighs lovingly, nails digging into the skin. He was so goddamn, fucking beautiful. 

Steve released his grip on your hair and let his softening cock slip out of you. He collapsed beside you on the bed, one massive, hot hand on your thigh to keep you connected.

You had early on learned that The Captain's love language was touch, and he would usually keep himself physically connected with you at all times during the first 24 hours back from missions - to your varying delight.

You lay there, listening to your pants as you came down from your high. It was all so strange, and all so good. 

You turned your head towards him, taking in his glorious side profile with his straight and imposing nose, strong chin and ruff stubble, piercing blue eyes concealed by pale eyelids and a flutter of thick, long eyelashes. 

“I gather the bush wasn’t a problem?” you teased.

The way he had reacted to it had been anything other than what you expected. You thought maybe you’d get some mild discomfort, some awkwardness and then just ignoring it all together. 

Not ...that. 

You mound still stung a bit from his harsh tugging at the end there.

He smiled and turned to meet your eyes, cheeks slightly pink. 

“You gathered right,” he said, and averted his eyes in the cutest way possible. You rolled onto his chest and made him look you in the eyes. His hands found your back and started stroking a couple of fingers lightly up and down your spine.

“Where did that come from? If I’d known you’d react like that, I would have grown it out a long time ago!”

He laughed.

“If I’d known, I would have let you know a long time ago. Everyone I’ve been with before you sported the same...baldness as you normally do. And it’s not like I saw a lot og nude dames back in the day, ya know.”

Ah, that answered that question

As your thoughts lingered on his response, he saw his opportunity to grab the back of your head and bring you in for a sweet kiss. Starving and deprived, the kiss soon turned heated, and his tongue effortlessly slid into your mouth as you moaned at the intrusion. 

You broke the kiss before it became too consuming, earning a disappointed pout from Steve as you quickly threw yourself from the bed. You pointed a finger at him.

“No, no, no, I am going to shower before you go any further, mister!”

He raised his hands in defense at your tone, but a smirk was playing at his lips. 

“Plus, I think I need to shave a bit, don’t you?” you asked innocently.

Before you knew it, he had rushed forward, grabbed your wrist and waist and hoisted you back on the bed, effectively pinning you under his weight, one wrist in each hand at the side of your face. You felt your body humming with energy at his power demonstration.

“You’re not going to shave a goddamn thing,” he said matter-of-factly, though there was a playful tone to his voice. 

You giggled at his words, which turned into a gasp as he leaned down and nipped at your neck.

“Do I need to go down there and remind you who you belong to? Eat your wet and hairy pussy like cream, taste my stain as it leaks out of you?” he rasped in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and right to your core. The dirtier side of your Captain still took you by surprise sometimes.

Then your eyes flashed open as realization hit you. Cream.

“Oh my god, Ben and Jerry!” you shouted as you pushed at your restraint, and Steve, ever the intuitive, let you go immediately when he understood the moodshift.

You darted out of the bed and sprinted from the room.

“That better not be someone you're expecting,” Steve called from the room, and you couldn’t control your laugh as you bounded for the discarded grocery bag in the hallway.

As if...

Author’s note: This was my first one-shot, and a hell of a lot of fun. I don’t really remember where the whole pubic hair!kink-idea came from, but once it entered my mind, I couldn’t get it out until it hit the paper. I just imagine Steve being a real lover of natural bodies and natural body hair, ya feel<3 Thanks for reading, love you<3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x Y/N #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #captain america x Y/N

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 9

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

A/N: DO NOT YELL AT ME! It is going to be okay. 

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9 , Part 10

You had a secret.

For such an abstract and shapeless thing you could sure feel it sitting in there.

It was pulsing.

Your secret felt like a splinter lodged just under a single taste bud that sat in the center of your tongue. You could feel your white blood cells attacking it, trying their best to push it up and push it out, but still it clung tight with its sharp barbs lodged within your cell walls. You brushed your tongue against your teeth.

The secret did not budge.

What you knew about them though, was that secrets did not like to stay hidden forever.

Your fork slipped and clanked noisily against the ceramic plate and the bright orange carrot ball rolled across the smooth white surface nearly sliding over the edge onto the white linen. Whoever decided that your steamed vegetables needed to be shaped into spheres simply for aesthetics should be forced to come out here and explain how you were supposed to spear one of these things while also avoiding the risk of it shooting across the table and hitting your date in the face.

Ben turned out to be very nice. If you were into tall, handsome, clean-looking, and responsible guys who drove their own cars and also had things like health insurance and retirement plans. When you first saw him, you were struck by the firmness you felt when he shook your hand and smiled brightly at you. He had all of his teeth and a head full of hair. He was definitely walking around on his real legs too. He looked like the kind of guy who didn’t let the clean laundry sit in the dryer for longer than a day and changed out his toothbrush every three months. You couldn't see a single fault.

You were trying your best to make a good first impression.

Really, you were.

Well, while also keeping an eye on Baekhyun who sat beside you with his focus down on his plate as he sliced his food into bite sized bits. His control of the fork and knife felt so careful and so exacting, it neared obsession. He had not ordered the steamed vegetables. None of his food rolled.

Across from him, looking just as cute in person as her online dating profile pictures conveyed, was Mia.

Mia was fine.

She was fine.

You didn't want to get into it.

Her clothes were fine. They were exactly the kinds of clothes you had expected she would wear.

Her hair was fine.

She actually had a hairstyle that reminded you of one of the characters in an anime you watched with Baekhyun once and you wondered about the upkeep costs of that particular shade of blue that streaked through her hair. You wondered if she had to switch to blue towels and blue pillow cases or if everything in her house was just stained forever.

Baekhyun’s cheeks blushed when he shook her hand and his smile was bashful, if not a bit tight when she complimented his glasses. Your mind briefly considered the plush, expensive white towels you both owned at home and a flash of horror overcame you for a split second when you imagined those towels streaked with a blue stain from the shower.

He bought those glasses at a store. Anyone can go to the store and buy glasses. Did such a superficial compliment really warrant such a deep shade of pink on his cheeks?

You took a sip of your glass of wine and the sweet, cool liquid had a tart aftertaste that lingered on your taste buds long after you swallowed and you stabbed roughly at the runaway carrot again, impaling it with the prongs of your fork.

Finally.

“I got it,” you said out loud to yourself with a wide smile and you held your prize up in front of your face for a second. Long enough for your eyes to drift across your table to meet Ben’s and you caught the soft amused chuckle that puffed from his nose.

You’d already gotten through the backstory. Starting with the curious question from Mia about how you and Baekhyun got to know each other and you took a quick glance toward Ben as Baekhyun explained that you and he had been roommates for a couple of years. You caught the slight smile on Ben’s lips as he looked down into his water glass and you wondered if he was pleased that he already knew the answer to this question as you had been quick to tell him this important detail about your life as you chatted with him during the last week or so.

Mia on the other hand simply let her eyes drift over from Baekhyun’s face to land on yours for a moment and you offered a disarming smile by way of explanation. Not that either of you had any explaining to do. You could live with whoever you wanted to live with. It took her ten seconds to return your smile, although you didn't quite believe it, or believe that she was done with her curiosities about this topic.

You couldn't really blame her although you’d given her nothing to be suspicious about. Not in the last 20 minutes since you’d all arrived and nibbled on shared appetizers, at least.

Hell, you hadn’t even touched him all day. From before you both arrived at this fancy restaurant and just relinquished your coats to some stranger simply because she held a hand out and sported a severe enough hairdo and manic look in her eyes that was too frightening to question. From the morning when you woke up and wandered into your kitchen to make toast for one and you ignored the sound of his feet shuffling in, half-asleep to grab a yogurt from the fridge. You hadn’t even helped him style his hair; which looked stunning, by the way, with the waves and the faded brown color that absolutely looked like something the perfect boyfriend would let you play with as he laid on your lap. He hadn’t even asked for your help picking out his outfit. He’d simply done it all on his own and waited for you by the front door wearing those jeans and smelling like that familiar scent that he bought for your date with him weeks back.

When had this all become so awkward? You’d never been afraid to touch Baekhyun before but now, well, the touches hadn’t ever concealed quite so much meaning before.

By the time the entrees arrived the conversations had moved on to hobbies and interests.

Ben was a movie buff, and his favorites were mostly mainstream blockbusters of the Marvel Superhero variety. He enjoyed many of the genres of films you’d mostly seen just the previews of. His top ten contained a bit more horror than you were comfortable with. One in particular, a prolific film based on a Steven King novel, had been the kind of psychologically terrifying film that made your chest rattle and you had spent most of the second half of that movie with your face buried in Baekhyun’s arm begging him to just describe to you what was happening and to tell you when the scary parts were over.

When he asked you what your favorite movie was you hesitated for a moment before pulling the movie Forrest Gump out of basically thin air. Yes you had enjoyed the movie. Yes it was something you’d seen more than once and if it was on television right now you would sit down and watch it from start to finish and you would enjoy it. It was a respectable favorite to have. It was the kind of favorite movie you would not be embarrassed to show to your grandmother.

But it wasn’t actually your favorite and you could feel the burden of Baekhyun’s eyes as he turned his head to look at your face when you said it.

Something about naming, out loud with your own lips — the light and fun, mindless guilty pleasure of the film that was actually your favorite movie that you’d watched hundreds of times and returned to watch again and again every time you felt even a little bit upset; something about saying it out loud to this table of people with countless of hours of media consumption under their belts and opinions about things like prolific directors, production companies, hefty CGI budgets, and overused, tired tropes that absolutely should be dropped in 2021, well it just felt too vulnerable for you to say out loud.

You swallowed a sip of your wine and refused to turn your head to look at Baekhyun until you heard the sound of his throat swallowing the ice water he sipped.

When Mia changed the topic to Anime you felt Baekhyun come alive beside you and Ben slinked back in his seat a little as the two of them got to talking about something that was highly anticipated and was slated to be released next year. Rumors about artists and directors with names you could not know flew easily from their lips and Mia mentioned the name of one previous work that you recognized.

In fact you had watched the entire thing last year with Baekhyun and you remembered talking excitedly about it with Mia during one of your early text conversations.

Your face lit up and you happily joined in, excited to finally know what in the world they were talking about when you accidentally let something slip when you reminded her of what she had said about the anime before. Luckily you stopped yourself before you could admit that you had actually been the one she had been chatting with at the time.

Still, she caught it. She was very quick and sharp and you watched her face as she registered that you’d referenced something that only Baekhyun should know about. Had you just fucked up?

“Ahh, we,” you raised your index finger and waved it lightly toward where Baekhyun had stiffened up in his seat beside you, “he told me about what you said.”

There was a moment when her eyes widened and she looked at Baekhyun briefly before returning her focus to you.

“He...told you about me?” She lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, straightened her back and leaned forward with her forearms rested in front of her plate on the table. Her off-the-shoulders number dipped when she leaned in and you caught a bit of black lace and the bunch up of her impressive bosom.

She smiled a coy smile aimed across the table.

You followed the smile and your eyes reached Baekhyun. He’d been hit with the smile and had been too stunned to return it. Instead, he lifted a hand and rubbed it over the back of his neck twice before reaching the same hand forward to grab the ice water he’d been sipping all night as he pulled in a mouthful and puffed his cheeks before covering his lips with his flattened palm and swallowing noisily.

“I also mentioned you to my friend,” Mia said not quietly enough for it to be just for him and you dropped your eyes down to the half finished chicken on your plate.

She was fine. Mia was fine. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong. She was nice and she was probably a good person, but you kind of wanted her to die.

“So,” Ben interjected suddenly and you looked across the table at him as you tried to conceal the surprise on your face to find him sitting there.

You noticed he was done with his food and his plate had already been cleared away by the super attentive waitstaff.

The negligence of your own date weighed heavily on you and you angled your chest forward to face him directly for whatever questions he had for you.

He was pointing toward Baekhyun and Mia with his extended finger and raised eyebrows.

“You two work in computers?” It was a work question. He’d gathered this much from the brief introductions everyone had given and while you had failed to offer any insight as to what you did for a living, Baekhyun and Mia had both mentioned computers.

“He’s a software engineer, and I’m a programmer. Similar but not the same,” Mia explained. You weren't sure of any of the details or of how they were different. You hadn’t really put much thought into it. You knew Baekhyun worked the magic with the keyboard and could fix anything that you happened to break.

“I’m in advertising. Just got scouted by Comma Entertainment and I’ve accepted.” Ben had a hand raised to his chest and his eyebrows were up. This seemed important to him and you let your lips form into an impressed O shape as you raised your eyebrows. His tone and the way he said the name of his new employer seemed to warrant the excited reaction.

You weren't familiar at all with his industry but you knew how to react like you knew what he was talking about. He certainly seemed impressed by himself. Who were you to discourage his enthusiasm.

“You’ve heard of it?” You sold it too well. Baekhyun had leaned close to you and whispered an aside question and you shot him a tense look with your eyes as a warning, but you quickly pushed your smile wide for Ben who was, deservedly, very excited about his new position.

“Of course, who doesn’t know Comma for advertising. That’s a very big deal. Is that why you were so busy last week? We hardly got to talk.”

Your subject change was so slick. If you hadn’t been the one to do it, you’d have been impressed by it. The disappointed pout on your face sold it well.

“Actually I was at the bank a lot last week. It was so weird. I had a few accounts that seemed to be hacked but then it turned out to be nothing. Had to change all my passwords though, so that was annoying.”

“That sucks. They didn't take anything did they?” Mia spoke up from beside Ben; concern written all over her face.

“No. Whoever did it just seemed to access purchase histories mostly. Some loser of a hacker. Didn't even get any money.” Ben’s lips pulled wide and he was laughing with his head thrown back at his perceived victory over the hacker that had been messing around in his bank records.

“You can learn a remarkable amount of information about a person’s bad habits from their bank history, Ben. Sure utilities and rent; that’s boring. You can find out how often someone gets hammered at bars. How many of those bars are also strip clubs. How many maxed out credit cards they make minimum payments on each month just to keep their head above water. Their gambling losses and the motel rooms they book in the bad part of town…”

Baekhyun was speaking up beside you. You turned and you looked at his profile as he spoke so candidly and with what you could only describe as a certain smugness on his voice.

The only reason he’d stopped talking was to catch his breath. It was the most he had spoken all night and you honestly felt taken aback by the suddenness of his words and more, the topic he spoke on. It felt weirdly pointed. It just felt so detailed; almost accusatory.

“What?” You hissed the question; focused it hard and as under your breath as possible to the man seated beside you.

His lips closed up before his eyes turned to look at you and you caught a quick blink of his eyes that preceded a softening of his features that had no business looking that confrontational in the first place.

“I’m not saying any of that stuff applies to Ben.” Baekhyun lifted a slim dismissive hand to wave toward your date. “It’s just an example. For all we know Ben’s only weakness is eating fried chicken every day.”

Ben’s lips were pulled into a thin line on his face and his jaw unclenched when you looked back at him. Then he was smiling at you and it was bright and convincing. You smiled back at him and shook your head at your wacky roommate’s antics.

“Actually it’s pizza. You caught me buddy, I’m a hardcore pizza addict. Every night.”

“Well, not tonight.” Baekhyun shrugged with an odd smile landing on his lips.

Ben’s tight smile flattened and the two men seemed to be staring at each other for longer than you thought was polite for a shared first double-date.

“So what is it that you do?” It was Mia who ultimately broke the tension and you looked across the table into her eyes. She had a pleasant smile on her face and was still chewing on a piece of bread, clearly unbothered by the strange standoff that had just been going on between the two men at this table.

Surely you weren't the only one to notice how odd it had been. Had you just imagined the tightness in Baekhyun’s fist that laid over his thigh and the hard glare in Ben’s eyes?

With Mia’s question though, you felt your own lips pull closed and your eyes danced around the table to the other curious parties who also were now looking at you to answer the question.

You’d prepared well for this date. You’d made sure Baekhyun had the detailed first date topics, questions and answers for perfect small talk, even the section on table etiquette. You’d made sure he knew you’d be here to steer the conversations toward topics he was comfortable discussing and you’d even set up a safety signal he would use if he wanted to bail and just go home.

You’d planned it all out, down to the detailed progression of the evening and how at the end someone might even suggest going together for drinks. And should one of the dates wish to split off, it would be completely okay as long as the corresponding person felt comfortable. You’d even promised that under no circumstances would you abandon Baekhyun to do this on his own if he didn't want to. Not even at the behest of Ben, your date.

They were looking at you and you'd gone quiet. You’d been so busy preparing for this date that it never occurred to you that you were also actively involved and that someone might possibly ask a question about you and your work.

Your work. Well…

“Uhh...I don't really do anything worth mentioning.”

You felt it. It was a warmth that had pooled in the skin around your nose. Your cheeks felt warm and you felt just insignificant enough for it to take your undeserved confidence and throw it out the window.

Ben and Mia were watching you. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth and bit down on the dry chapped skin on the surface.

“Nothing?” Ben said and his eyes were wide with a look of confusion on his face.

“Well, not nothing.” You were not completely unemployed. You had been quite impressive before. You’d been working with the best publicists of an entertainment company and had been in charge of crafting and perfecting the asset sheets of many of your company's highest profile artists. You’d been the best at it and at one time had been highly sought out for your expertise. You had a way with it. You could work some real magic. You could make a dud of a raw potato sound like a five star course in a Michelin star restaurant. Losing your position in the spring of 2020 had really been a huge blow to your confidence. You looked back at how far you had fallen. Boring data entry jobs to make ends meet. Taking on weird side gigs so you could afford tiny luxuries like your favorite scented lotion or the name brand tampons instead of the store brand.

“I do have a job.” You added lamely. “It’s just not at all interesting.”

Ben dropped his eyes from yours and Mia shrugged her shoulders and stabbed a carrot ball expertly on the first try.

“Yeah but what is it?” Mia said as she chewed daintily. The heat in your cheeks spread and you let your eyes wander away from hers over the various dinner items that covered this table.

Beside you, Baekhyun’s movement caught your eye and you turned to see him place an elbow on the table in front of him and he leaned forward.

“She’s a dating coach. She’s really good at it, but much too modest when she talks about herself.”

Oh no. He wasn't about to spill the beans was he? This was definitely not something in the approved list of first date dinner topics. Wasn't this topic too incriminating? Wouldn't Mia put two and two together and figure out that you had been coaching Baekhyun all along? Also, wasn't this new profession of yours too brand new to start talking about so freely like this? What the hell was he doing?

“A dating coach? What’s that?”

Strangely, Mia didn't seem to be looking at Baekhyun with wheels turning and sirens blaring. She was looking at you with her mouth empty and hung open with a look of genuine interest in her eyes.

“Do you like, feed them what to say in an earpiece?” Ben was speaking up from the other side of Mia and you laughed at the absurdity of such a silly rom-com movie cliche.

“Well no. I’m not a pickup artist. I am a dating coach. Think about it like a sports coach. I am teaching my clients the skills to play the game. Skills to overcome dating anxiety, or I’m teaching them to identity and move away from self-sabotaging behaviors, limiting beliefs, or preconceptions that are detrimental to a healthy relationship.

I have clients that don't even know where to begin. My goal is to strategize with them and place them effectively within the dating scene so they stand the best chance. It’s incredibly hard to be objective about your own love life, but I provide an outside viewpoint. I step in and intervene when I see something that isn't in line with their relationship goals or the vision they have for dating.

I’m not teaching manipulation or just telling them what to say. There are no love spells to make someone fall in love with you. I’m changing the way they believe in themselves so they can present themselves to someone else in the absolute best way to begin a real relationship with someone.”

You’d been leaning in as you spoke animatedly with your hands. You felt the genuine excitement building with your words. You were surprised at how much of your previous profession’s language applied to this new exciting endeavor you were embarking on, but there really were tons of overlapping similarities between the two fields. The explanations just poured out of you.

You hadn’t said any of this out loud before to anyone but the more you talked about it, the more elated you felt about what you were doing with your life. With how much you had been helping Baekhyun and how much progress you had seen in just one day of helping your clients — Baekhyun’s friends Minseok and Sehun. Sehun had finally, finally sent you his first selfie that wasn’t taken from his lap after you’d sent him many examples of good selfies taken from different angles. Minseok was already halfway through the materials you’d sent him to study and had been working hard on identifying and changing the self-defeating language he’d used in his rough draft dating profile.

“She has an app.” Baekhyun piped up from beside you. He’d leaned back in his chair as you spoke.

Both Ben and Mia’s faces mirrored each other’s. Their eyes were wide and their mouths hung in amazement and you quickly closed up your own mouth and grabbed anxiously at your wine glass, feeling a little bit embarrassed about having talked so much. You couldn't resist the chance to smash their misconceptions about what your goals actually were with helping your clients. None of these people were unlovable. They were all worthy of finding someone and you were going to give it your all to help them see their own value.

“Not at all interesting?” Mia spoke up, “that’s super interesting. That’s really, really cool. Can—Can I have your contact info? I have a friend that would be interested in your services.”

“You have an app too? This is something we could advertise online. It would do extremely well on certain kinds of reddit forums and definitely in most online gaming communities.” Even Ben sounded excited, if not a bit overly judgmental, and you heard a quiet, but hostile scoff next to you.

You ticked your head toward the sound but did not turn to look at him. You knew that scoff well enough to hear the annoyance in his voice at whatever he thought Ben might be insinuating about online gamers and the connection to the incels that haunted the forums of reddit.

“I think it’s a bit premature to think about online advertising. I’m still only one person.”

Ben smiled and shrugged off your quick dismissal of his idea to partner up and advertise your business to the desperately lonely and pathetic gamers of the world. Hell, the more you thought about it, the less inappropriate Baekhyun’s annoyance was. Ben could use some coaching on choosing less insulting words.

Thankfully the dinner was over and the check had been taken care of. You looked away from the palpable awkwardness that slapped you across the face when Baekhyun waved away Ben’s card and paid for the entire bill with his own.

“You can get me next time, buddy.” He definitely said this word sarcastically. It was out of line and you simply could not find the right moment to pinch his leg under the table to get him to behave himself in a discrete enough way that would not get you caught by the other two people at this table.

You let it slide simply because you had no way to stop it. He was ignoring the way you waved your finger frantically at him down by your calf. You knew he could see you in his peripherals.

No, Baekhyun. Stop that. Be nice. Your hand was saying. He wouldn't even look at it.

The dinner was over and the movie was starting soon. You’d picked a restaurant that was close enough to the theatre that you could walk.

You paired off. It was far from natural. You actually caught Baekhyun’s eyes as you stepped quickly and walked ahead of him, falling into step beside Ben and you left behind Baekhyun and Mia to bring up the rear. It took every ounce of self control not to turn around and look behind you to see how closely they walked to each other. To see if Baekhyun kept his hands shoved securely in his pockets or if he swung his arms at his side as he walked, inching a hand closer and closer to Mia’s swinging hand in the hopes of a back of the hand brush of his warm skin against hers.

Your steps must have stalled. You’d reached the theatre and you looked up to locate Ben, only to find him at the box office purchasing four tickets for the movie you’d all agreed to watch days ago. For the life of you, you couldn't remember what you were seeing. You merely followed where you were led and found yourself seated in a center row of a movie house sandwiched between Ben and Baekhyun. You noticed the center armrests had been lifted when you arrived and simply did not bother to lower them since everyone was too full from dinner for any movie snacks or drinks.

The house was mostly empty and then lights dimmed as the movie began. You searched your brain and nearly pulled out your phone to check your chat logs for the name of the film but decided against shining a tiny bright light in a dark room.

The movie began and you were quickly drawn into the narrative. It was a dark film and as the soundtrack began to take on more sinister sounding tones you recognized that your heart was racing and you were feeling the tension all over your body. It was not a gorey horror film, but it was leaning more toward the psychological suspense thriller genre. Not really something you watched much of.

To your left, Ben sat completely still; focused only on the movie screen. He looked so calm and nearly unaffected by the terrifying things happening on the screen. He occasionally shifted in his seat but did not react to the jump scare that flashed before your eyes and made you flinch hard in your seat. You’d reached the point in the film when the main characters were in genuine danger and you began to wonder if anyone would make it out of this movie alive. Was this one of those films where everyone was doomed?

It happened again, another jump, another loud shocking sound and another noise startled you and you dove to your right, hiding your face in the warm shoulder of the man sitting beside you.

The realization was instantaneous. The second you felt the warmth of his arm, and the smell of him hit your nose, you pulled your head up and you straightened out your spine, mumbling a quiet apology to Baekhyun for using his arm to hide behind as you removed any and all contact points you had with his body. You angled your hips and your knees away from him and even went so far as to stick your hands well under your own thighs and keep them there so you didn't grab for him again. You had been doing so well by not touching him at all today. Why did it have to be a scary movie?

Things grew more frantic on the screen. You held your breath and tried your best to keep from reacting as much as you could. How long was this movie? How much longer did you have to endure this? You should have paid more attention to the details of this part of the date. This was your own fault. You were acting like a big baby because you couldn't handle a little frightening scenes in a movie.

It was coming again. You could feel it building. You closed your eyes and terrible sounds were erupting all over. You would just not look. You could make it through if you just didn't look. With your eyes closed the sounds felt louder than ever and when you thought you couldn't take it anymore you considered committing the enormous sin of getting up during the climax of the movie to use the bathroom just so you didn't have to sit through this anymore.

There was a shift beside you then. You felt warm fingers inching down your forearm, traveling the path your hand took that led below your thigh and someone was reaching for your hand and pulling it out from where you’d been sitting on it. Someone to your right was gripping your hand with his own warm hand and you opened your eyes to look down between the hidden space between your hip and Baekhyun’s hip. There, you saw the grip of his hand that wrapped securely around yours.

He squeezed down once and you followed the length of him up to catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He was looking up at the screen. His eyes were open and he did not flinch at all. He was so still aside from the occasional movement of his lips when he moistened them with his tongue.

You could handle this if he lent you a little bit of his strength like this. Your eyes returned to the screen but your mind wandered back down to the secure comfort you felt in his hand.

You felt your own secret throb.

It made you flinch just a little bit and Baekhyun’s hand shifted then. He moved, lifting the tight grip for a moment and you wondered if he was done, would he take his hand back and leave you cold and afraid again? The lift was for the shift of his fingers and you felt the push of each digit between yours. He pushed his fingers between yours; interlocking your hands together with his and his thumb moved lightly over your own thumb, brushing comforting strokes again and again through the loud and scary and shocking scenes that played over that screen.

This time the racing you felt in your chest had nothing to do with the scary movie. He was touching you. He was holding your hand in secret. It felt forbidden with his date sitting right beside him like she was and with your date seated right beside you like he was. All of your attention was down on the slow pressure you felt from his thumb as it traced the shape of your own thumb down from the very bottom up to the tip, around again. The simple up and down had a slow and sensual rhythm to it. When he lifted his hand his thumb moved and you held your breath to feel that same very slow touching trace the outline of the palm of your hand again and again. He drew absentminded shapes into your skin with the pointed tip of his thumb and your eyes drifted closed as the longing grew within you. He followed the paths of the creases in your skin like a palm reader. He did not even need light to see them, he simply felt them and traced along the paths.

You let him.

You felt bewitched.

You loved him.

The credits rolled on the screen and the lights switched on. The change was abrupt. You were taken by surprise and shocked by it like you were from the jump scares in the film.

His warmth left you. His wandering light touch, his deliberate and careful exploration of the lines that made up the palm of your hand vanished.

Everyone was standing and everyone was walking out of the theatre house and your mind felt clouded and dazed but you followed where their steps led and you found yourself standing outside of the exit doors with the three other people who you entered with.

Baekhyun stood beside Mia and Ben occupied the space of the sidewalk square that you also stood inside.

It was the end of a night. You felt an overwhelming urge for this evening to be done so you could go home and shower and maybe eat something sweet and distracting and maybe made out of chocolate.

“Well this was fun,” it was your own voice that ultimately called it.

Mia had been looking at Baekhyun who had been looking down at his own feet as he lightly tapped his foot on the concrete below. Three taps.

Tap, tap, tap.

You felt a jolt of realization. Baekhyun had just tapped his foot thrice on the floor below him well within your sight and you recognized what that meant. He was feeling done. He was done with all of this exhausting socializing and being out in public with so many people around and he wanted to go home now. This was him asking you for help now as he wasn't sure how to end the date but wanted it to be over.

“What about...grabbing some drinks, maybe...” Mia was talking only to Baekhyun as she looked at him, “if you aren't too tired.”

“Hey Baek, isn’t your grandmother coming over early tomorrow? Do you still have to get ready for that?” You interjected suddenly and Baekhyun looked up into your face with his mouth open and you watched his eyes move slowly over your face as he recognized what you were doing. You were giving him an out. Mia had asked him to go for drinks and you were giving him an excuse, should he need it.

You both knew his grandma came every other Sunday. You both vividly remembered the wonderful visit you had at the beginning of the week with her and she wasn’t due to arrive again until next Sunday.

He could simply correct you if he really did want to go with her. He could call you a dummy and tell you that you had the wrong week again and playfully tap you on the head to jog your brain back into functioning the right way as he often did when you got something mixed up.

“Oh, yeah she is,” Baekhyun grabbed your convenient reminder from the air and smiled a rueful smile directed at Mia. His smile widened with the wince on his face, “that’s too bad.” He added and Mia took it well.

She smiled and nodded her head and there were well wishes for a safe trip home all around as you all parted ways.

Ben said he would text you later. Baekhyun told Mia the same and you waited until they both walked away to follow Baekhyun back to his car for the quiet ride home.

The silence was heavy, but it was comfortable.

Baekhyun didn't speak at all and you could tell by the way he carried himself that he was tired. He wasn’t normally an extroverted person and found it very draining to carry on a full conversation with friends he knew well. Strangers like he had been with tonight, well, you could see the fatigue in his movements and you knew he needed something warm to drink and maybe some comfort with a familiar favorite tv show to zone out in front of.

You handled it better. You were used to having to go out of your home occasionally and you even enjoyed socializing with your coworkers on the few days you went in to the office for work. You felt a bit drained but mostly you were preoccupied with watching how he was handling it and you were also burning with curiosity to know how Baekhyun felt about the whole thing.

He’d wandered into the living room and he found the sofa. You followed him close behind and grabbed the remote, flipping to a familiar and funny cartoon that you often saw him playing in the background as he worked on things. He didn't usually watch it that closely but it was comforting enough to stay on and keep his mind occupied for a while.

You didn't speak. Everything you had to ask him could wait. Even the scolding you had for him about how he acted toward Ben could also wait. You’d let the man breathe a little first.

You busied yourself in the kitchen making two cups of hot tea and when you returned you found his head leaning against the back of the couch with his eyes still glued to the screen. He had a passive smile on his face and he reacted positively to the wacky scenarios the characters found themselves in. He would occasionally speak out loud, speaking along with a funny line he knew by heart and you found it impossible to resist saying the follow up joke. You knew this show as well as he did.

He accepted the tea with a smile and had a few sips and you set your mug on the coffee table in favorable of the comfortable side of the sofa, the side with the pillows that allowed you to rest your head comfortably as you watched the big tv.

You were feeling pretty good. Baekhyun had now officially gone on his first date with a real girl who wasn’t you and he’d had a nice time. You could see from where you laid your head down how relaxed his face was as he giggled at the show.

You stretched and you felt his warm thigh with your foot. This sofa was long enough for you to stretch out completely and you only barely reached where he sat at the other side. You wiggled your toes, unable to resist the light messing with him that you often gave in to and his hand reached down to grab ahold of your foot, which he held in place as he paid attention to the tv.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you sat up a little bit to pull it out.

You saw a text message from Ben.

From the preview you got the idea of what kind of text message the man would be sending you an hour after your first, and apparently your last date with him.

-Hey you seem like a super cool girl, but...

The preview showed you enough to know that he was dumping you before you’d even gotten anything started with him.

You opened the text. Your curiosity outweighed your sense of self preservation.

-...but whatever’s going on between you and your roommate, well it doesn’t really seem like there’s much room for me. I just don't think I can start something knowing I’ve already lost. Thanks for inviting me tonight. The movie was fun. Good luck with everything. - Ben

You felt the sting.

You couldn't help it. You’d spent all evening watching Baekhyun interact with Mia with every ounce of your self control devoted to not letting your jealousy show at all. At one point you’d been so damn engrossed in them that you forgot Ben was even there. What an unfair and shitty situation to have put him in. You quickly keyed out an apology for your crappy date etiquette and thanked him for going out with you tonight.

You couldn't even blame him for anything. He had been sweet and he had tried his best to be the perfect gentleman. What had you expected?

You sent the last message you would ever send to Ben and tossed your phone roughly toward the coffee table. It bounced but landed in the middle.

The racket called Baekhyun’s attention and he turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised in question.

“Ben just rejected me.”

Somehow saying this out loud to Baekhyun felt better than hiding it from him. It felt less miserable than keeping it inside of yourself and letting yourself suffer the sting of the rejection alone.

Baekhyun’s lips pulled into a small frown and he took out his cell phone from his pocket and tossed it roughly on the coffee table beside yours. It took a similar bounce and your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture.

“No way, not Mia too,” you said in genuine fear and Baekhyun shook his head with his shrug still well in place.

“Nah, I just can't lay down with my phone in my pocket,” he said as he wiggled on the sofa trying to get comfortable, “though in hindsight I can see how you would think that, sorry. Mia hasn’t texted yet.”

He was wiggling, finding no comfort in all the positions he tried and you caught his wandering eyes for a second as you lightly tapped a hand over your belly.

This…

This would be fine. This was something you both did sometimes. Baekhyun said your belly was warm and comfy and made the best noises and he liked to use you as a pillow when he was just too tired to go to his own bed.

He moved right away at your invitation and you let your legs part around his chest as he laid his head down right on top of you. He turned his head to face the tv and didn't even squirm too much before he sighed out loud. His arms laid on either side of your waist and you felt the constriction as he lightly squeezed around you.

You really hadn’t gotten to touch him all day. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you felt a low moan from the back of his throat travel though your body as you raked your nails down the back of his head to his nape.

“Peanut,” you said softly, feeling every little bit of the annoying little tickle of that stupid secret sitting inside of you.

You could feel the heaviness of his body as he gave in and relaxed his muscles on you. You felt every breath he took and they seemed to be changing as you played with his hair and he gave in to the relaxing comfort you offered him.

“Hmm?” He replied after a long while. You angled your face and could see that his eyes were closed.

“How was the date? Was it nice?”

You had so many hopes for him. You were trying your best to ignore the pangs of your own selfish jealousy and get past it all to get to something good for him. Something that would make him understand how incredible he was. How beautiful he was inside and out and how precious of a human being he was.

“Mhmm, I liked it.” He said softly and he shifted and you felt him tighten his hold around your waist briefly before he relaxed again.

“Did you really? Do you think you liked Mia?” You kept your voice strong. You did not allow your fears to overcome your voice. You were okay with this if he was okay.

He did not answer right away. You’d stopped playing with his hair and you kept your hand rested over his head. He was so warm. He was so lovely.

“Do you want me to like Mia?”

No.

Mia would be so good to him.

You did not answer. Your answer would have been no. It would have been selfish. You’d just been dumped by your date, how dare his date have gone so well. You’d both been on the same date. You could still see the way she looked at him. She found him just as lovely as you did.

You felt a thickness at the back of your throat and you swallowed it down.

“I’m trying, Bug. She’s very nice to talk to. Do you think I should like her?”

Was this because of his mistrust of people? Was this his shyness about letting someone he didn't know very well in close?

You couldn't respond. You did not trust yourself to do the right thing.

“You should go rest if you’re sleepy,” you said, you know, like a coward.

It took him a few minutes of laying on top of you before he realized that you were right and he would be much more comfortable in his own bed. He nodded and pushed up with his arms, and his eyes stayed closed and his head stayed hung down as his feet shuffled and he made his way into his bedroom, leaving his door open you merely heard the loud sound of him plopping down on his bed.

You were stuck where he left you.

Stuck in about as crappy a mood as you’d ever found yourself.

You hated everything about this. You hated how much you loved him and you hated how receptive he was to the idea of dating Mia. You hated how she looked at him and giggled at his small jokes and you hated HATED the way his cheeks blushed and the shy smiles he gave her when she talked to him.

You laid there and you stewed in your mood for longer than was good for you and the only thing that made your it up was the simultaneous buzzing that brought both of your cell phones to life on the coffee table.

You reached for yours. It’s as your dating coach app. Baekhyun had received a new message from Mia. The feelings that surged through you were taking over your sense of what was good and what was right and what was proper behavior for someone like you to participate in.

You swiped to read the message.

-Hi Baekhyun. Sorry I couldn't wait until tomorrow to text you. I had an amazing time tonight and I was wondering if you would like to meet up tomorrow after your Grandmother’s visit for coffee? I have something I’d like to ask you.

You felt as if your body was on fire.

You could feel it deep inside your chest, deeper still inside your belly where his head had been resting moments before. You felt it in the palm of your hand where his thumb had traced the patterns of lines there. You felt it in your lips that he had kissed and in your tongue ached inside of your mouth from your stupid secret.

You reached for your phone. You opened the app for the power he’d given only to you and you responded to her message as if you were Baekhyun.

-Hi, Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll meet you at 1pm.

Your hands moved on their own. You moved to the internal commands of your app and you deleted both of the messages from the chat history. When you picked up his phone you saw the notification for Mia’s message vanish before your eyes and when you unlocked it and accessed his chat log, there was no sign of the unimaginable and unforgivable sin you had just committed against him.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9 , Part 10

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey​ @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex

#baekhyun #baekhyun fanfic #exo #exo fanfic #exo fic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun ff #exo ff #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun chaptered #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut

[sirensmojo]

"Depth Over Distance" Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Angst & Fluff.

Summary: Tommy remembers the time he fell in love with you when he realizes that you are falling out of love with him.

A/N: It's Tommy's point of view all along. [it was supposed to be out yesterday but I fell asleep WAY TOO SOON and on my computer....]

PS: Inspired by "Keep your Head up" by Ben Howard.

*Masterlist*

*Arrow House*

The clock was ticking, it was the only sound that could be heard in the office, along with the smoke Tommy exhaled. His eyes were blankly staring at the void forward him, his vision blurred by his thoughts.

She was standing in the chair right in front of him but she wasn’t saying anything, she probably didn’t even notice he was standing near her.

She wouldn’t even look at him in the eyes anymore or even throw a single glance his way. He used to say he’ll not eat with Y/N when just coming home from the House Of Commons, but for several months she wasn’t even expecting him at all. When he would arrive late for dinner, he would rush to the dining room but found it empty.

No plates on the table, and no Y/N waiting for him. It was maids that would welcome him and tell him his wife took supper earlier before going to bed, using the excuse that “she had to wake up early”.

What was she doing early in the morning anyway?

Why was she out all day long? But most of all, why wasn't she looking at him anymore?

Y/N and Tom met during the war, she was a nurse in his department. Being a tunneler meant you weren’t going out often, but when you did, it was solely to put out the bodies of the dead or reach for help for those who were deeply wounded.

He remembers she used to always come to him to take care of his scars when he refused to let anyone touch him until all his soldiers would be taken care of.

She wasn’t saying anything when he would do so, but her eyes… Tommy remembers vividly the way she was looking at him, the aggressive burning fire that was animating her eyes and her stern look contrasting with the way her lids softly fluttered whenever he would catch her looking at him.

She used to panic a little before understanding it was his way to tell her she could take care of his wounds and scars.

Her touches were so soft and sweet, her skin was always smooth and cold. Not in a bad way, it was easing his own that was burning like hot coals.

Being under the ground in very tiny tunnels with all his soldiers, Tommy had to take on his shoulders an amount of pressure no one could ever even imagine, he had to give them orders and lead them to death from time to time. No errors would be acceptable, so he had to calculate everything for everyone.

The air down there was toxic, hot and tense. That’s why he loved Y/N’s skin being cold, it would remind him about the life above the ground, what fresh air felt like, and even if at the time he hadn’t had much space to think about that, she was bringing him hope.

A hope that would be killed as soon as he was back in the tunnels, but still. He could taste hope somehow, so it was better than nothing.

When returning home, he forgot about her for some time, but soon enough, the universe, destiny, or whatever, sent his angel back in the streets of small heath.

She was working in a bakery, and soon, Thomas was bringing bread everywhere he would go. Even in family meetings or the betting shop. Every occasion was an invitation to visit the woman that didn’t seem to recognize him… Or so he thought.

“Y/N! Give your Sergent Major what he needs and close the shop! We need you at the back!”

Her cheeks reddened.

“I’m coming!” Y/N responded by turning her head to the back door before slowly facing Tommy again. She was keeping her head down, but when she met the icy blue staring-eyes of the man she once knew in another time, she cleared her throat and gained composure again.

“So what do you want?”

“Huh?” He responded, aghast.

“What bread this time?” She answered back and he raised his brows.

“You remember me?” He will not order anything, but he wanted the truth.

“Who can forget what happened there.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and the bitter tone of her voice alarmed him. Did he do something to her personally or was that tone about the war itself? Tom was confused.

He frowned and was staring at the woman in front of him.

“You heard my boss, I gotta close.” She let out before she walked around the counter to join him. She seemed to be aware he was going there only to see her, that’s why she didn’t wait any longer to put him out of the bakery shop.

Tommy, that was now out, under the rain, turned back to look at her through the windows, confusion filling his eyes.

She was aware of his scheme and she indeed kicked him out the shop.

Her attitude made him forget he was a peaky blinder and that he should be served like a fucking Prince. With her, he only felt like a simple man. Not that it was a bad thing, but since he returned his business was the only thing he could think about until he saw her again.

Now she became the key to this other dimension where Tommy Shelby was just Tommy Shelby, not the leader of a backstreet gang, not the head of the Shelby family, no. None of those things mattered or even existed in that dimension. It was just him, her, and the way she was looking at him.

Tom maybe didn’t know what to say that day, but he eventually came back the next day with only one purpose: She will not kick him out this time. This wasn’t too ambitious, or was it?

Because last time she made no effort to kick him out. Her Y/C/E eyes were enough for Tommy to be unable to say anything back.

But he wanted to believe this time will be different.

He pushed the heavy glass door and entered, no clients. He quickly glanced behind the counter but he was surprised to see a blonde girl. It wasn’t Y/N.

“Mr Shelby!” The woman began, a huge smile on her face, she surely knew about his position in this town. “What brings you here? Can I help you?”

But he glimpsed a form, in the tiny room at the back of the shop, and here she was, lifting huge bags of flour from the ground.

He turned back to the girl that was speaking to him and cleared his throat, “Give me my everyday order.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand… It’s my first time serving clients, I do not know what you usually take…” She seemed sorry and scared. So, she heard about what happened when the peaky blinders didn’t have what they wanted.

He got out a cig, lightening it up slowly before puffing on it and lifted his eyes back on the woman, “Well, bring someone who knows.” Was all he said.

“Y/N, please come!” The blondie girl ran to the back door.

“Is it something you do often, to frighten people?” Y/N asked, outright, when nearing the counter.

“Give me my everyday order.” He was looking deep into her eyes, and he could swear he saw her gritted her teeth as the muscle of her jaw tensed.

She grabbed a couple of pieces and wrapped them in fabric, shaking her head.

“Is it something you want to tell me?” He raised his brows, still smoking.

She handed him his order and exhaled, “I don’t understand why you chose that path. Haven’t you got enough with the killings?” She looked at him straight in the eyes, and he would swear she was looking into his soul.

Tommy didn’t say anything for a moment, his body stiffened. It was when his cigarettes burnt his knuckles that he blinked, grunting. He frowned and looked at the burning on his pale skin as the cigarette fell on the ground.

How did she do that? It was as if she understood him better than he did. And her words made him feel like he was cheating on himself.

She grabbed his hand in both of hers, which startled the man that looked up to her face.

It had been forever he hadn't seen her that close, her hair falling perfectly on each side of her face, framing her judging look. “Now you act like you don’t remember who you are, huh? Or maybe you truly forgot.”

Her words echoed in his mind but he was still desperately searching for their meaning. What was she saying?

“So, you hate me.” He concluded, not because that was what he thought but because it was his way of knowing what he truly wanted to know without directly asking her a question. He didn’t need her to think he cared what she thought, even if that was the case.

She put his knuckle in her mouth while frowning at him,” No, I don’t hate you, of course, no.” She was taken aback by his remark. As if it was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard.

“So, what is it? You always be looking at me with those eyes,” he pointed to her with his free hand. That’s when he realized his finger in her mouth, making him flutter his lids a couple times out of confusion, “like I did something wrong.” He concluded while staring at her mouth.

Y/N scoffed, “Stop speaking in the name of my eyes. It’s not my fault if you see your own conscience in them.” She said as letting go of his finger.

She pulled his arm, leading him in the tiny room at the back of the bakery shop. “Sit.” She motioned a dusty table and two chairs while she went away.

Tommy obeyed, patiently waiting for her.

He rewinds the time and hears her voice again, “It’s not my fault if you see your own conscience in them”, well. Maybe she was right. Maybe all of the things he thought he saw in her was in imagination, but here he was, about to have a full conversation with the woman that saw the real him.

“Give me your finger,” she let out while sitting right next to him. “I never hated you, Tommy. It’s who you become that I can’t stand. I thought you discovered your true self there, I guess I was wrong.”

“Don’t speak in my name. It’s not my fault if you see a version of me you want to see and not who I am.”

She lifted her gaze to his, “I saw you looking at your soldiers there. You felt powerless in front of their distress, and it seemed to burn you from the inside. I’m not lying.” She said, putting some kind of liquid on his burn.

“That’s why I become who I’m becoming.” He snapped back, staring at her movements, wincing of pain.

“To never be powerless…” She muttered utterly to herself, but he heard her, and noticed her nodding to herself, she was genuinely trying to understand him.

“And I saw you.” She tied a piece of tissue around his knuckle before exhaling deeply.

“Back then, yea” He completed before she could add anything as if to let her know he wasn’t the same anymore.

“It’s so depressing how you want everything out of life but not the life itself.” She smiled at him faintly, raising a hand to his cheek.

She fondled his skin and shamelessly brought her lips to his, kissing him softly.

Tommy was surprised but in a good way. Now he was sure about what he felt between them since the war.

He put a hand at the back of her head, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, his other hand she took care of cupped one of her cheeks, tenderly.

He couldn’t believe it was the same Y/N in his vivid memories that was ignoring him right now.

He wanted to say something, but the words refused to form in his mind, and his voice was tied in his throat.

He knew she never approved his business even if she never said anything, and he was pretty sure this was the reason he was forced to watch the spaces grow between them.

A heaviness settled on his chest, making him cough even harder than usual. He abruptly crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and clenched his jaw as he grabbed the paper Y/N was reading.

He wanted her attention, he wanted her to look at him the way she used to. He wanted to see his own conscience in her eyes, he needed his wife. And she wasn’t there anymore, or maybe it was him who wasn't there?

Maybe the fact he entered politics was the last straw that broke the camel’s back? It was love or business and he made a decision.

That last thought made sense and would explain why she didn’t even look at him after he grabbed the paper and just left the office without saying anything.

(...)

In the morning, as he just entered the Shelby Brother Company Limited’s office, he saw his wife, sitting in one of the two armchairs in front of his desk.

“Y/N.” His voice was full of expectations.

When he saw the suitcase near her legs, he realized what was bound to happen.

“Sit.” She spoke with a low voice. And that’s when he realized...

It was him who changed. She was still as calm as usual, her hair still perfectly framing her face by falling at each side of her head.

Her Y/C/E eyes that, for the first time in months, met his blue ones were still animated by the same burning fire that when he found her in the bakery shop.

She was the same.

He came and sat at his desk, taking advantage of the fact she didn’t refuse to look at him, to stare at her face, printing as many details as he could before she would vanish, because that’s what she’ll do. He knows it.

“You had been away.” He succeeded saying. He didn’t want her to go silent again or to ignore him, so he made a step towards her, hoping she would do the same.

Tommy didn’t speak the first words coming to his mind, he meant something while saying this.

He wasn’t talking about distance here, no. He was talking about depth, she had been far too in-depth for him to reach for her.

She seemed to understand the depth he meant because she quickly looked away, fleeing the judgment in his icy stern eyes.

“Keep your mind set in your ways. It’s who you are now.” She mutters, giving him a faint smile.

He knew a ‘but’ would be coming at some point, he was patiently waiting for the sentence to drop on his head, so she could finish him off as if her ignoring him didn’t already do enough damage.

“It’s the time we go separate ways, Tom. But it’s okay, cause I’ll always remember you the same….” She tilted her head to the side, closing her eyes abruptly. A couple of tears racing at the corners of her eyes, “Eyes like wildflowers… with your demons of change.”

So that was it, he was right, he was the one who let her down, the one who changed.

“May you find happiness there… May all our hopes all turn out right.” She concluded, finally opening back her eyes.

He closed his eyes at each of her sentences, they were like bullets to him. One hitting him deeper than the previous.

No tears were to be found in her eyes anymore, it was his Y/N right here, right there. The one that once saw him, but couldn’t see him now.

#Hubby! Tommy Shelby #Husband Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders

[fific7]

Into the Darkness / Part 1

The Darkling x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s literally just lemon zest 🍋 ... I have a vision of Ben Barnes in his black Kefta and riding boots permanently stuck in my brain right now. Attempting to write it right out of there.

Warnings: 18+ please due to NSFW content. Dom/sub interaction, being restrained, coercion, questionable consent (thankfully this is a fantasy universe), sexual content including oral, loss of virginity, rough unprotected* sex. I don’t mention her actual age, but Reader is not underage.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

[My GIF]

The ebony black doors swung open, then were quickly slammed shut again. You heard the lock click, and lifted your head from where you lay sprawled on the floor, chained to the wall by one ankle.

Early that morning, before sunup, you’d been dragged to The Little Palace from the prison where you’d been locked in a cell for several days. And chained to the wall in this opulent room, left alone for the rest of the morning.

After you’d been thrown onto the floor and shackled by the jailer, you’d tried to rearrange your linen slip and undergarments as best you could. They were ripped, dusty and stained from the earth floor of the cell you’d recently been in.

The blue Kefta you used to wear had been ripped off you, when the Oprichnik found you at your family’s small house near Ryevost.

As a Tidemaker, an Etherealki, a water summoner, you’d served in the Second Army but you’d deserted when word reached you that your younger brother had been badly injured in a hunting accident.

You’d fled the Army camp under cover of night and made your way home across country, on a stolen horse. But the elite guards had been sent after you, much to your dismay. What made you so important? Many deserted and were never hunted down.

Your mind went over & over this as you lay there, pressure points on your body beginning to ache from long contact with the hard parquet flooring. The shadows moved steadily across the walls as the day progressed.

And now, it seemed, you had a visitor.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

At first you couldn’t make out much, there were shadows swirling around the figure, but that in itself gave you the answer of exactly who was approaching you.

The Darkling, or General Kirigan as he also now styled himself. The Shadow Summoner. Leader of the Second Army, a powerful man. Your mind spun... what on earth could he want with you? You’d never even seen him before, except from a very long distance away. And you’d certainly never spoken to him.

The shadows cleared, revealing him in his black Kefta and full uniform. His riding boots clicked out another few steps towards you, until he came to a halt, towering over you. You craned your neck to gaze up at him.

You heard your full name being spoken by him, in a low but clear voice. He knew your name? You nodded, swallowing as you replied.

“Yes, moi soverennyi.”

He slowly turned the clawed ring on his last finger. “Why did you desert? I don’t take it kindly when one of my finest Tidemakers disappears without leave.”

“My... my brother,” you stuttered, “he was badly injured, I had to go.” You looked down, “I’m sorry, moi soverennyi, I had no choice.”

“Wrong!” he said, harshly, “there’s a procedure for leave, and you failed to follow it.”

“There was no time...” you said, desperate to put your case to this, the most senior man in the Grisha Army.

“Enough!”

You flinched back as he shouted at you.

He turned on his heel, going over to the large, partly shuttered window.

“I could have you shot.” His head turned slightly, as he looked at you over his shoulder. “Or worse.”

You hung your head, fear spreading into your very bones. If the money you sent every month to your mother stopped, what would she and your brother do? Your father and older brother were dead.

He turned and made his way back to you. Bending over, his hand roughly took hold of your jaw and he forced your head up, so that you were looking into each other’s eyes. His grey eyes looked like shattered ice.

“What would you do to keep yourself alive, hmm?”

“Anything... please... for my family, moi soverennyi. Without me, they won’t survive.”

He nodded, a slight smile gracing his lips. “I thought you might say that.” He straightened up, and stood looking down at you. “I find you attractive, your body is...” his eyes flickered over you like a cold breeze, “desirable.”

A short pause. “I have need of a... companion. To help me forget my daily struggles. You will be that companion. You will take care of all of my needs.”

You realised what he meant, and your eyes widened in shock.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He’d left after that, without saying anything else. Two of the palace serving women had come in shortly afterwards and unchained you, taking you into an adjoining room which had a large free-standing tub in it. You were washed in a bath of fragrant rose oil, your hair washed and put up in a loose bun, and you were dressed in fresh linen robes.

Then they rechained you to the wall and left you alone.

You contemplated what you’d been forced into. He was handsome, very much so. If he didn’t intimidate you so much, and in different circumstances you’d have been attracted to him. Well, you were attracted to him you admitted to yourself, but you didn’t trust him in the least. And you also wondered what had happened to his little Sun Summoner... there had been rumours about those two. But she hadn’t been seen around the camp recently.

Several more hours passed before Kirigan returned. He strode into the room, locking the door behind him once more, tutting as he saw that you’d been chained up again. He released you, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. He pulled you against him, inhaling your scent for a second before pushing you towards a door off to the right.

“Time to initiate our agreement,” he breathed into your ear, “come with me, little dove.”

Your stomach lurched. You’d never been with a man before, never experienced so much as a kiss. He felt your arm tensing in his hand, and he quickly opened the door, hustling you inside. He locked that door too.

You looked around you; it was a large room with a huge bed in the middle of it. Meanwhile, you were almost hyper-ventilating, and he looked curiously at you.

“Are you afraid?”

“I’ve never lain with a man before, moi soverennyi,” you admitted.

His eyes widened, a distinct gleam coming into them. “I will take your virginity?” He gave a small laugh, “This is even better than I anticipated! Do you know, you’ll be my first virgin? All the times I’ve...” he shook his head, chuckling, “and never a virgin amongst them.”

His eyes swung down to yours, “Until now.” The tip of his tongue swiped quickly over his lips, and you knew he was aroused.

You shuddered, feeling nauseous. You didn’t want to lose your innocence to this dark, manipulative man, but you had no choice and he knew it.

He beckoned to you, and you took faltering steps towards him. He stared into your eyes, while putting a finger under your chin. You felt like he was looking into your soul.

“We’ll start off slowly, little dove. I don’t want to scare you too much, in fact I want you to enjoy it so that you’ll always be ready and willing for me.”

He suddenly started unbuttoning the fly of his black uniform trousers, and you unconsciously drew back. He grabbed your wrist. “You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do, yes?” But it wasn’t really a question.

You failed to respond so he repeated, louder, “Yes?” You managed to nod. “Say it!” he ordered. “Yes, moi soverennyi.”

He reached down to his open fly, laying aside the fabric of his trousers and undershorts. Your eyes watched his hand in terrified fascination, you’d never seen what was hidden inside men’s trousers before. You caught sight of the smooth pale skin of his abdomen, dark hair marking a path down his lower belly to a thicker growth of hair.

He freed his erect length from the fabric, and your mouth dropped open. It was so much bigger than you’d expected. This is what you’d heard other girls giggling about, you supposed. It was almost laying right up against his stomach, and it looked like a dangerous weapon.

You heard your name, and looked up at him. He had an amused look on his handsome face. He placed his hand on your shoulder, and you felt a downward pressure. “You need to kneel,” he said.

You did so. “Put your hands on the back of my legs,” he ordered, and again you complied. One of his hands went to the back of your head, his fingers pulling your hair loose before entwining themselves in it. He pulled your face forward until it was against the dark trail of hair on his belly. You were instantly aware of his aroma, a spicy scent. “Kiss,” he ordered, and you began laying a path of kisses down it.

He nodded, “Well done. Now.... you will take this in your mouth.” He had his other hand around his cock and inclined his head towards it. You leaned back, gasping up at him. “Come on!” he said, impatiently, “you were doing so well. Open your mouth!” Voice getting louder. You hoped no-one could hear.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and as you watched his ‘weapon’ approaching your face, you noticed there were small pearly beads of liquid leaking from it. He placed his tip right onto your tongue, and you tasted something both salty and musky. “Now you need to kiss and lick,” he instructed. You began licking the head, and you heard a stifled groan from him. You began to intersperse kisses with your licking, and he tried to contain more groans behind gritted teeth. His hand gripped further into your hair, pushing your head forward.

“Now suck!” he gasped out, “and do it all at the same time!” A voice at the back of your mind questioned how that was even possible, but you did your best. “Be warned, girl! I’m going in further,” he told you, “eventually it will be fully in your mouth and at the back of your throat. Don’t choke, and whatever you do, don’t bite!”

Without further warning, he pushed his length further and further into your mouth, eventually making you gag. He pulled back slightly, “Take a breath. And get ready, I’m not even fully in yet!” You gasped in some air, feeling your eyes beginning to water. He paused for only a few seconds, before restarting his relentless push forward. “Relax your throat!” he ordered, before sinking in almost to the base. Tears streamed from your eyes as you found yourself - despite his instructions - choking round him.

He held your head firmly against his groin and began thrusting, but not too deeply. Gradually you realised that unless you relaxed more, this was going to be extremely uncomfortable for you. He sensed your slight relaxation, and to your horror he immediately began to thrust deeper and faster.

By this time, you’d felt something else rubbing near your chin. Just as you were wondering what this could possibly be, he ripped one of your hands away from the back of his leg and shoved it between his legs. You felt two fleshy, spongey globes beneath your fingertips. “Rub, squeeze!” were your next instructions. You took them into the palm of your hand and did as you were told.

He gripped your hair again, pulling at it while forcing your head to stay as close to him as possible, his thrusts building to a crescendo. You heard a prolonged, agonised-sounding groan from above you, he gave three fast, jerky thrusts into your mouth and suddenly warmth flooded your throat. You weren’t sure what this was but you’d no choice other than to swallow it. It was saltier and thicker than the previous liquid. His large hand was on the back of your head, forcing you to stay in position, and you choked again slightly as you desperately swallowed.

You could feel him softening, and he quickly pulled out of your mouth and away from you. Pulling his Kefta closed, he unlocked the door and walked out into the main room. You weren’t sure what to do so remained where you were, sinking down onto the floor a bit, and trying to loosen up your rigid neck & shoulder muscles. Wondering what was going to happen to you next.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He returned a moment later with a carafe of water and a glass. He placed them on the bedside table, then gestured for you to stand up. Producing a washcloth from one of his pockets, he gently wiped your lips and chin, where his juices had left a sheen on your skin. Then he poured a glass of water and handed it to you, telling you to sit on the bed.

“You did exceptionally well, for a first attempt,” he praised you, “in fact it seems you have a natural flair for it. Under my tutelage, you will soon give the best head in Ravka.” You looked confused, and he laughed, “The service you just provided for me... it’s called giving head, amongst other things.”

You looked up at him and asked boldly, “Will I be better than your Sun Summoner?”

He scowled, “Do not speak of her! She is gone.”

You nodded, “Hence why you needed a companion, moi soverennyi?”

He took two long strides over to you, grasping your jaw in his hand. “You may just’ve had your mouth around my cock but that doesn’t allow for insubordination, understand?!”

You nodded, afraid once more. “Yes, moi soverennyi.” And wondered why you’d felt like questioning him about her in the first place.

He was pacing the floor next to the bed. He stopped and glared at you. “Your night of discovery is not yet over, little dove,” he eventually muttered. “Finish your water and lie down on the bed.”

Your stomach clenched as now you knew what was going to happen next. You’d naively thought that perhaps he would allow you to sleep for the rest of the night. But judging by the predatory look on his face, that was not to be.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozova #general #general kirigan #shadow and bone #ben barnes #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling fanfiction #the darkling into the darkness

[5lazarus]

Salt, Flesh, Heat

Bull notices that Solas is a deeply sensual person, reveling in clean clothes, good-smelling herbs, and hot water. He's also deeply masochistic. When the two find themselves enjoying the baths one early morning in Skyhold, Bull decides to press. Solas decides to play along. A @black-emporium-exchange gift for gamerfic. Read the other works in the AO3 Collection here! Read the story on Archive of Our Own here.

Steam on skin, worn wood pressing slick into his back as each vertebrae clicks: the Iron Bull sighs as he unwinds in the Skyhold baths. Few beyond the servants and the hungriest soldiers and Josephine herself were up at this hour. Bull has the steam room to himself. Carefully he unwinds his bulk onto the bench, laying his towel over his eyes. The clearcut eucalyptus smell lingers on his skin, sweated into his muscles. He groans aloud as a muscle in his bad knee pops.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he grunts.

Then the door opens and the dawn rushes in. Bull lifts the towel from his remaining eye. Solas stands there, a bit nonplussed. Shit, Bull thinks, and slowly makes room.

Solas lets the door close firmly shut. He holds a bundle of white birch twigs and dried eucalyptus.

Bull grins. “Want me to hit you with that?”

Solas climbs onto his bench and drapes himself on the upper story. “That may not be necessary.” Right, Bull thinks, you self-flagellate enough for both of us. He inhales deeply. “Would you mind putting more water on the stone? Some of the steam escaped.”

Bull says, “Uh, sure.” Slowly, because the ache in his body is delicious and he savors it, he reaches for the ladle and throws another pail of water onto the heating stones, and then another, and another. He hears Solas settle onto his bench, right leg stretched out. Bull turns to look. The man’s pale, graying red hair trailing down his chest. Dorian managed to catch a glimpse of his cock when they bathed after a particularly fetid journey into a Dalish swamp, and reported that it was the largest he’d ever seen on an elf and one of the bigger he’d seen on a man. Bull has to admit he is curious.

Amusement in his voice, Solas says, “Are you quite done?” Still tense, he turns away from Bull. He’s wiry, built broader in the shoulder and legs than most mages he’s met, but still has a weak core. Blackwall told him he’s fought in “some elven skirmish,” and he looks like a man about to retire from the field. He has a slashed scar on his right shoulder and claw marks on his right leg.

“Where’d you get that?” Bull points.

Solas does not turn around. Bull’s eyes travel down his back and rest on his well-shaped ass and thighs. Solas is a bit too thin for him, practically speaking, but he does like to look. He’s built like a dancer gone to middle age, rather than some Emerald Knight stalking the Dales for humans to kill, or—so he has heard from Ben-Hassrath stationed in the outskirts of the Tirashan—Dhal’Vallaslin chasing down strange elves with crimson vallaslin, who sacrifice the living to their long-forgotten gods. He seems more the type to plan and give orders, than carry out the dirty work himself, though of course Bull has seen him do it. He saw what he did with those Kirkwall mages.

Bull asks, voice casual, “You know, you’re kinda built like a dancer.”

At that, Solas shifts. He opens a single blue eye, looking down at him like a large cat eying a much smaller, squeakier dog. “I was many things, as a youth.”

“A dancer?” Bull says, taken aback, and slightly turned on.

“Not that,” Solas laughs. “And you, Iron Bull? Were you ever a—performer in your youth?” Solas slowly raises to his knees and leans over, taking the ladle from him. In one easy swoop, he throws more water onto the steaming rocks, and leans against the wall, inhaling deeply.

Bull says, a tad defensively, “That’s not how we do things in the Qun. I was earmarked for the Ben-Hassrath pretty early on.”

Solas says, “But there are many ways of being a spy, regardless of how your government attempts to standardize. Though I suppose you are too—big for the more subtle aspects of infiltration work.” He stretches. During his time with the Inquisition, he has put on enough weight and muscle that his ribs no longer show.

Bull says, “I did my job okay. Most of it is people-work. Watching, being watched. Don’t need a lot of variety in that.” He snorts. “The less, the better.” He eyes the bushel of branches Solas brought with him to the bania. The eucalyptus mingles wonderfully with the heady scent of sweat. He says, “Are you sure you don’t want me to hit you with that? That’s why you brought that here, right? I thought that was just a Dalish thing.”

He’s hit a nerve. Solas says sharply, “The Dalish do not monopolize all aspects of what has become of my people’s culture. And one simply…rubs the body with it, harder force is not necessary.”

“Ah,” Bull teases, “but if you really want to get the eucalyptus into the skin.”

“And I assumed this early, I would be alone,” Solas says flatly. “How is your knee, Iron Bull?”

Bull grunts, “Shitty. Running from all those demons tore it up again. But this helps. How’s yours?”

Solas pauses. Bull edges to the intersection of the benches, trying to find enough space to spread his leg out without having to sit on the floor. He maneuvers his bulk carefully, and gently lifts his bad leg onto the bench, folding his good leg underneath. It’s a vulnerable position, but he can see the door.

Finally, Solas admits, “My sleep has been disrupted with the amount of strain I’ve put my body through. I am hoping this will help before I must return to my desk and Vivienne’s lectures, as we calculate yet again the futility of using templars to isolate the rifts.”

Bull chuckles. “She’s still on that?”

“She has relented that a team of templars cannot hold the perimeter by themselves. We differ on how many mages are needed to perform the ritual to stabilize the Veil, and how vulnerable it leaves them.”

Bull says, “Give yourself a little bit of a good thing before you charge into the bad. That’s what I like about you, Solas.”

“Oh?” Carefully Solas climbs down onto the lower bench, favoring his unscarred leg.

“You know, you’re such a sensualist. You clearly like the baths, you don’t mind talking, you like the birch broom and feeling your blood roil and all that. I’ve seen you flirt with the Inquisitor before, and you were positively purring at the Winter Palace. But!”

“But,” Solas repeats, looking up at him. “But?” He is enjoying this, Bull is amused to realize. He enjoys it when people talk about him. As a younger man he must have preened. With that red hair, he would’ve had to.

Bull says, “But you never go all the way. You never fully surrender yourself to it. You get tipsy but not drunk. And you never let yourself alone with the Inquisitor, or anyone, really.”

“I am here with you,” Solas points out.

Bull shrugs. “And even though you like to talk, you like to argue, to debate, you never hang around the Mage’s Tower, or go back to the tavern with Dorian and the others. You keep patching up your shitty homespun even though with the Inquisition salary, you can buy yourself proper robes. You’re a masochist, man. I’ve never met someone so—sensual—who likes to torment himself so much.”

Solas is silent. Sweat pours from both their bodies, dampening the smooth hot wood. He fingers the bundle of oak twigs and eucalyptus, rubbing a single leaf with his thumb. Lowly, voice pooling like steam, he says, “Surely I do not need to tell you of the pleasure of desire, long-denied, finally sated. Or of living simply, with the occasional indulgence in luxury. After all, what is an elvhen apostate to do with silk? I take pleasure in making and mending my own garments, Iron Bull. As for other indulgences of the body…”

He trails off and Bull swallows heavily. He flicks his tongue around his lips. The air tastes of clean water and sweat: his own and the sharper, earthier scent of the elf’s. Every species has their particularities.

Bull says, “In the Qun, we believe in moderation, sure. And if you’re into edging, more power to you. But you know that’s not what I mean. If someone ends up that tightly-wound, that isolated, the Tamassrans intervened—“

“And if you do not give a proper showing of yourself, they break your mind and set you sweeping floors,” Solas says flatly. “I have seen how such authoritarian systems deal with dissenters. I take my pleasure in my own ways, in my own time. Not at my commander’s orders.”

Bull says, “It’s not like that. Sometimes you just need a good fuck, or a massage, or to be sat down in a discussion group with the priests and get into an argument all night long. The Tamassrans just prescribe the medicine. It’s good, it works. Keeps you from going too far.”

“Which is precisely why there is no Tal-Vashoth problem in Par Vollen,” Solas says. “Once, while in the Fade—“

Bull groans, “Right, let’s put some demons into this.”

Solas says, “Do you ever tire of repeating what your elders have told you, or would you like to learn something? Once, in the Fade, I saw a young Qunari working in a simple kitchen, baking bread as she was ordered every morning.”

“Cute,” Bull says. “So I’m not the only Qunari you’ve asked about their horns.”

Solas ignores the dig. He continues, “In every loaf she broke the rules. She’d take a pinch of sugar and would fold it to the center, like a secret.” He leans back with a fond smile. “And this act of small rebellion brought a shining smile across her face.” He spreads his hands, as if he has laid a winning flush in their game.

Bull thinks, you had to have been a slave. Are you the baker? Rather than provoke him further, Bull takes a different tact. “Hey, Solas. Why do you shave your head?”

Solas blinks. He raises a hand to his scalp, which is beginning to get bristly again. He says, “Fastidiousness, or lack of fastidiousness. Take your pick.”

Bull says, “No, really. If you can ask me how I put on a shirt I can ask you about your hair. Why do you keep it shaved? You’re not naturally bald, are you?”

Solas eyes him. “I am certain you have heard Dorian complain, at length, of the difficulties of keeping his hair perfectly coiffured and shaved while traveling. I have been nomadic most my life. It became easier, this way. Particularly since it is such a prominent color.” He shifts slightly.

Bull says, “Hey, I like red heads.”

“I know you do.”

“Don’t you ever think about growing it out?”

Solas laughs. “No. Never.” He pops his knee up and stretches his other leg, sighing as the muscles in his back audibly crack. Taking the bath broom, he begins rubbing the leaves into his skin. The air fills with its medicinal scent, and under that: earth.

Bull says, “I can rub that into your back.”

Solas says, “I prefer to take my pleasures simply.”

Bull says, “But I can look.”

Solas rolls his shoulders back and begins rubbing the bundle into his arms, swiping sweat away. “I never said you could not.”

Bull, frustrated, brings his bad leg down with a thump. He says, “You gonna take a dip in the cooling pool? Or is that too much of an indulgence for you?”

“My people first discovered this way of bathing,” Solas says distractedly. “I will take any opportunity to enjoy it now that I can, however primitive our facilities in Skyhold.”

“You’ve got baths, out in the woods?”

“You’ve never built a steam hut, and then flung yourself into a snow drift? Really, the Qun did not let you enjoy your youth.”

“But your people did,” Bull says, seizing on this note of autobiography.

Solas places the bundle on the bench. He stands up in silence and tosses another ladle of water onto the furnace. The room fills with steam, and Bull feels sweat pool in the back of his head.

Solas takes his towel and wraps it loosely around his waist. Looking over his shoulder, he says, “I took pleasure when it came my way.” With that rejoiner, he grins, and opens the door. Bright light and cool air pools in; the steam thins. The day has begun. Solas leaves.

Alone in the steam room, wonderfully hard, the Iron Bull says, “Fuck.”

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #da fanfic #dai fanfic #dai #dragon age #solas #iron bull #solabull #solas/iron bull #iron bull/solas #slash #banya #romance #flirting