#don't explode my blog please

[whittloresdumpster]

Hello mother

I stand here wishing for reaper sans to get some love.

and by that I mean

GRRR DRAW REAPER OR IMMA EXPLODE YOUR BLOG(such a good threat, I know:])

hello child.. have Grim instead...

[sillypotatochipz]

I love exploding everytime someone draws something for me

[axchilxes]

So... Jambound Fans... how we feeling out there tonight?

*insert nasally cries of horrific intensity*

Jamma, Jamma, Jamma, the anon you are. If you're reading this, please never incur the wrath of the Ao3 author curse T•T

[indi-glo-archive]

i hate imogen with a passion

[monster-noises]

I.. very badly need a therapist

[snow-on-mtsilver]

I'M SOBBING

[evilwizard]

hi evil wizard you're one of my favourite blogs please don't explode

aw, don’t worry, i wo—wait what’s happening

[fawndrip]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 build a fic! 　ﾟ･｡･

(pick a quote + a feeling + a trope ! let’s see what fic you end up with.)

author's addition: this lil build-a-fic is inspired by @scealaiscoite ’s adorable idea ! her prompt lists are literal perfection. go stalk her blog pls she’s the best ever 🧸

— a quote !

☆ “stop smiling like that. it’s distracting.”

☆ “you make it really hard to stay just friends.”

☆ “why does it feel like a goodbye?”

☆ “you’re blushing.” — “no i’m not.”

☆ “just friends don’t look at each other like that.”

☆ “i missed you. that’s all.”

☆ “you remember the little things. that’s what gets me.”

☆ “tell me to stay. and i will.”

☆ “my hand fits so perfectly in yours. it's like i'm made for you”

☆ “do you want me to leave?” — “no. i want you to stay forever.”

☆ “i think i knew it was you. even back then.” — “then stay.” — “but that's the thing. i don't know if i know you anymore.”

☆ “i don’t know how to stop wanting you.”

☆ “this means something. don’t pretend it doesn’t.”

☆ “you’re not just anyone. you’re you.”

☆ “if we kiss now, everything changes.” — “i know but that's a risk i'm willing to take.”

☆ “i’ve been in love with you since the night we met.”

☆ “tell me it meant nothing. lie if you have to.”

☆ “i was easy to leave, wasn’t i?”

☆ “you don’t get to miss me now. you lost that right when we broke up.”

☆ “say something. anything. please.”

☆ “i loved you. that should’ve been enough.”

☆ “i wish i didn’t remember everything.”

☆ “don’t look at me like you still care.”

☆ “i’m tired of pretending this doesn’t hurt.”

☆ “you said forever. i believed you.”

☆ “if you didn’t mean it, why did you say it?”

☆ “you chose them. you always do.”

☆ “i don’t hate you. i just wish i’d never met you.”

☆ “you let me go like i was nothing.”

☆ “please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

☆ “are you sure? cause whatever this is it doesn’t feel like love.”

☆ “it’s always been you. i just didn’t know how to say it.”

☆ “say that again. i dare you.”

☆ “you really don’t see it, do you?”

☆ “i think i like you. like, like like you.”

☆ “do you always look at people like that?”

☆ “you make it really hard to think straight.”

☆ “oh my god. you’re blushing.”

☆ “this means something. don’t pretend it doesn’t.”

☆ “i should’ve kissed you when i had the chance.”

☆ “you’re not helping. you’re being pretty. it's distracting.”

☆ “you make me nervous in the best way.”

☆ “every time you look at me, i forget what i was saying.”

☆ “just admit it. you like me.”

☆ “if you don’t kiss me right now, i might explode.”

☆ “you’re dangerously good at that smile.”

— a feeling !

♡ longing ♡ comfort ♡ fear ♡ hope ♡ guilt ♡ joy ♡ jealousy ♡ trust ♡ confusion ♡ safety ♡ regret ♡ tenderness ♡ ache ♡ peace ♡ want ♡ yearning ♡ hesitation ♡ betrayal ♡ relief ♡ pride ♡ vulnerability ♡ nostalgia ♡ admiration ♡ disbelief ♡ grief ♡ devotion ♡ loneliness ♡ warmth ♡ embarrassment ♡ desire

— a trope !

☾ only one bed ☾ mutual pining ☾ fake dating gone real ☾ friends to lovers ☾ strangers to almosts ☾ found family ☾ rivals with tension ☾ the “oh” moment ☾ confessions at 2am ☾ sunshine x grump ☾ forbidden ☾ hurt/comfort ☾ secretly in love ☾ reunion after years ☾ accidental domesticity ☾ slow burn ☾ “just friends” denial ☾ second chances ☾ love letters never sent ☾ childhood friends ☾ exes ☾ soulmates who don’t believe in fate ☾ enemies on the same side ☾ sleep talking confessions ☾ one falling first, the other falling harder ☾ patching up wounds with shaky hands ☾ “who did this to you?” ☾ dancing in the kitchen ☾ jealousy over nothing (but also everything) ☾ late-night phone calls ☾ caught in the rain ☾ almost kissing but someone interrupts ☾ waking up next to them ☾ fixing each other’s tie/collar ☾ taking care of them while they’re sick

GIVE CREDITS TO @iamgonnagetyouback / @fawndrip

[godricgryffinsnore]

The Photo In His Wallet ♡ : A Sirius Black Fan Fiction.

pairing : Sirius Black x female!reader

summary : When a picture of his girl falls out of Sirius Black’s wallet, Remus and James seize the opportunity of a lifetime—and Sirius? Well, he doesn’t go down without screaming. And you? You grab the perfect opportunity to tease the shit out of him.

warnings : Fluff overload, Secondhand embarrassment, Sirius Black being a hopeless romantic (and dramatic menace), Mischievous Marauder teasing, Mentions of laminated photos, Light language and chaotic energy, Excessive cuteness and mutual pining. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

word count : 2k

main master list <3

banners : @uzmacchiato and @cafekitsune

It started with a perfectly innocent game of Exploding Snap.

At least, that’s what Sirius would tell you later, when he’s lying across your lap dramatically, whispering about “the betrayal of brotherhood” and how “even James turned on me, my dearest heart, the pain—the agony—you can’t possibly understand.”

In reality, it started with Sirius refusing to lose.

“Just give it up, mate,” Remus said, smirking as he laid down a perfect pair. “You’ve only got two cards left, and I can see the panic in your eyes.”

“I never panic,” Sirius huffed, slapping a card down with such force that it ricocheted off the table and nearly set Peter’s sleeve on fire. “I’m Sirius Black. I am the panic.”

James raised an eyebrow. “You okay, Pads? You’ve been weird ever since we got back from Hogsmeade yesterday. You’re not still swooning over her in that new dress, are you?”

Sirius went very still. “I wasn’t swooning. I was… appreciating.”

“You tripped over a display of pumpkin pasties because you were too busy staring at her,” Remus added helpfully.

“Pumpkin pasties are a hazard to us all,” Sirius replied solemnly.

They all laughed, Sirius included. And just when things seemed like they’d settle into a normal rhythm again, Sirius pulled out his wallet to settle a bet—and that was the moment. The moment the earth stopped spinning.

Something fluttered to the floor. James bent down to pick it up.

And then… the silence.

It was too quiet. Dangerously quiet.

James stood slowly, holding something between two fingers. “Sirius.”

Sirius blinked. “Yes?”

“What is this?”

Remus leaned over. His face split into a slow, delighted grin. “Oh, no.”

“No, no, give it back, give it back right now—”

Because in James Potter’s hand was a photograph. A small, well-worn Polaroid of you sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Your legs were tucked beneath you, hair spilling over your shoulders, and you were laughing—at something Sirius had said, no doubt, because the way your eyes sparkled was the same way he looked at you.

And worst of all? In the photo, Sirius was next to you, mid-way through tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

You both looked… soft.

Dangerously, disgustingly soft.

James’ jaw dropped. “You CARRY THIS with you?!”

“It’s laminated,” Remus added, peering closer. “Oh my Godric, did you laminate it?”

“FOR PROTECTION!” Sirius yelped, leaping across the table with the grace of a drunk Hippogriff. “SHE’S VERY PRECIOUS TO ME, OKAY?”

James was howling. “Pads, you’re whipped. I mean, we knew, but this? This is evidence. This is proof in a court of law.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter—”

“Do you talk to it when she’s not around?” Remus asked, utterly serious. “Like, do you take it out before bed and whisper, ‘Goodnight, darling, I miss your smell’?”

Sirius turned scarlet. “I DO NOT—well, not out loud!”

James fell off the chair.

Sirius finally managed to snatch the photo back and cradled it to his chest like it had been wounded. “Don’t listen to them, love,” he whispered to it, with a glare at the boys. “They don’t understand us.”

“You know we’re telling her, right?” Remus said, already pulling out a quill.

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Actually,” James grinned, “I think she’d find it adorable.”

“She’d die of secondhand embarrassment,” Sirius groaned, hiding his entire face behind the wallet.

But when he saw you later that day—when you smiled at him like he hung the moon, and kissed his cheek and called him "my handsome boy", and tucked your hand into his coat pocket where he was still clutching that damn photograph—he thought, maybe... maybe the teasing was worth it.

Even if Remus and James greeted him that evening with synchronized kissing noises.

── .✦

You knew something was up the moment you walked into the common room and James Potter looked at you like Christmas had come early.

“Oh, hey there,” he said far too casually. “Funny thing happened earlier. Wanna hear it?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Not particularly.”

“No no, I insist,” said Remus, sliding onto the arm of the chair beside you like this was premium entertainment. “It’s about a certain someone. And a certain object.”

You blinked. “Is this about Sirius? What did he do now?”

James grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just carries you around in his wallet like a 1950s milkman’s sweetheart.”

You stared.

Remus nodded solemnly. “Tiny photo. Worn around the edges. Laminated.”

“I—what?!”

And then—then—you spotted him.

Sirius Black, standing frozen at the top of the boys’ staircase like a deer caught in a very romantic set of headlights.

He held his wallet in his hand. He made brief eye contact with you. Then he did the only logical thing:

He turned around and bolted back upstairs.

“Oh my GOD,” you gasped, launching up from the couch. “He did not—SIRIUS BLACK, GET BACK HERE!”

“No you don’t!” came his panicked yell from somewhere above. “YOU CAN’T SEE IT—I’LL DIE—YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, SWEETIE—”

James was wheezing. “He’s GONE. He’s GONE feral.”

You thundered up the stairs two at a time and flung open the dorm door to find Sirius mid-dive onto his bed, clutching the wallet like it was the Marauder’s Map and you were Filch.

“Sirius Orion Black,” you said, arms crossed, breathless from the chase, “do you or do you not carry a photo of me in your wallet like a lovesick lunatic?”

He peeked over the edge of his blanket. “Lovesick gentleman, actually. Big difference.”

“Let me see it.”

“No.”

“Sirius.”

“…No.”

You stepped forward.

He whimpered.

Finally—finally—with a deep sigh and a dramatic flop onto his back like he was sacrificing his soul, he handed it over.

And there it was.

A tiny, slightly faded Polaroid of you. Laughing, sunlight on your face, your hand tangled in his hair. Laminated. Well-loved.

You looked at him.

He looked utterly destroyed. “It’s for morale,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling. “You’re like… a good luck charm. Or emotional support. Or a Patronus. You’re my Patronus, darling.”

Your heart turned to mush.

But you kept your face straight. “So you laminated it?”

“For protection!” he cried, sitting up. “You don’t understand, my love—James keeps gravy packets in his wallet. I wasn’t about to let you mingle with beef stew residue!”

You burst out laughing, full and loud and bright. And Sirius—sweet, ridiculous, hopelessly gone Sirius—just looked at you like you were the only thing in the world.

“Hey,” you said softly, climbing onto the bed beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You know you could just ask me for another one, right?”

He blinked. “A photo?”

You nodded. “Or better yet…” You kissed his cheek. “You could just look at me.”

He grinned, slow and smug and utterly Sirius. “I do. All the time. That’s why I walk into furniture.”

You laughed again, burying your face in his chest. “God, you’re lucky you’re pretty.”

He kissed your temple. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

── .✦

You weren’t planning on him finding out.

It was meant to be a quiet little secret. Something soft, something yours. A folded-up photo of Sirius—just his profile in sunlight, caught mid-laugh, probably making fun of James—and it sat right behind the emergency chocolate bar and next to your spare quills. A talisman. A comfort.

You took it out on bad days. When classes were dragging or the world felt too heavy or you missed him more than you could say aloud.

But Sirius Black was many things, and snooping-proof was not one of them.

You’d left your bag on the floor for five minutes. Five. That’s all it took.

"Darling?" his voice called from across the common room, the kind of cautious that meant he’d either broken something, found something, or was preparing to dramatically confess something. You turned, only to see him holding your wallet open with an expression like he’d just discovered ancient treasure.

"What's this?" he asked, holding up the folded photo like it was evidence. His own face stared back at him from the picture. He looked younger, a little softer, sunlight in his lashes. You’d kept it since fifth year.

You blinked. “...That’s private.”

“PRIVATE?!” he shrieked, his voice cracking. “You’ve been carrying me around in your wallet, sweetheart?!”

You walked over, nonchalant. “Yeah. What about it?”

Sirius stood there like you’d just proposed marriage. “I—You—You keep a picture of me on you? Like I’m—like I’m a lucky charm or something?”

You smirked, plucking it from his fingers. “I thought it was only fair. Since you keep one of me.”

“That’s DIFFERENT,” he gasped, pressing a hand to his heart. “Mine is—mine is chivalrous. Yours is criminally adorable and I’m having a crisis.”

You leaned in, lips twitching. “Having trouble breathing, love?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes. Also blinking. Also standing. I might need to sit down.”

You nudged his shoulder with yours and tucked the photo back where it belonged. “You look good in that picture. It always makes me feel better.”

Sirius made a noise like a wounded animal and flopped backward onto the couch, arms flailing. “I am going to DIE. This is the best day of my life and I’m going to die and I will not be reborn because nothing will top this.”

You sat down beside him, tugging his arm until he curled into your side like the absolute drama queen he was. “You’re such a baby.”

“I’m your baby,” he said smugly, nose brushing your jaw.

“You’re a pocket-sized baby,” you replied sweetly. “Fits right in my wallet.”

“Unholy words,” he groaned. “Say it again.”

You kissed the tip of his nose. “My pretty boy.”

He visibly short-circuited.

You grinned, victorious, and tucked your legs over his lap.

And that was it. He was a goner.

── .✦

It started, as most Marauder disasters did, with ego.

Specifically, Sirius’s ego.

You caught him staring at your wallet photo again. He tried to play it cool, of course, with that smug little smirk and a head tilt like he hadn’t literally gasped when he saw it for the first time.

But you saw the twitch in his jaw. The unspoken challenge in his eyes.

And then, the next day… it began.

You were in the common room, halfway through a cup of tea, when James’s voice carried across the room:

“Pads, why is your wallet thicker than Peter’s entire textbook collection?”

Sirius—cool, collected Sirius—looked far too innocent. “What? I just like being prepared.”

Remus reached over, yanked the wallet from his hands, and opened it.

And snorted.

James peered in. Then cackled. “NO. You didn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow as Sirius’s face went red. “What’d he do now?”

James turned the wallet around.

You blinked.

There were photos. So many photos. Every single one was of you. Laughing. Reading. Sleeping. Eating toast. One of you with a spoon on your nose.

You choked. “Sirius?!”

He sat up proudly. “Well, sweetheart, if you’re going to keep one photo of me, I figured I’d keep a few of you.”

“Seven is not a few!”

“Oh, that’s not all,” Remus added, flipping through the slots like a catalogue. “This one’s labeled ‘sunlight angel’. And this one—oh my Godric, he put a HEART STICKER on this one—”

Sirius snatched it back, scandalized. “It’s artistic expression!”

“You’ve got one tucked into your wand permit,” James added, eyes wide. “Pads, be honest… are we gonna find one under your pillow?”

“I’m not a monster,” Sirius huffed. “That one’s laminated and goes in my boot.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Sirius. You’re a menace.”

He leaned over with a grin. “I’m a menace in love, sweetheart.”

You tried not to smile. You failed miserably.

“You’re completely ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he whispered, brushing a kiss against your cheek, “I’m still your ridiculously handsome, wallet-stuffing, picture-hoarding idiot, yeah?”

You looked at him—utterly smitten, utterly Sirius—and sighed.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You’re mine.”

He beamed, all sunlight and smug satisfaction.

Until a photo slipped out of the back of the wallet and fluttered to the floor.

Remus picked it up.

It was of you, with a very noticeable smear of toothpaste on your chin.

You froze.

James gasped, delighted. “He laminated it.”

Sirius’s face turned crimson. “IT’S CANDID, OKAY?!”

You smirked.

“...You’re not getting any new ones for a week.”

Sirius groaned. “Worth it.”

[shuenkio]

Space out ? | 성훈 . 🥀

Paring: Sunghoon X M;reader | Genre: smau.

Cw: Read at ur own risk :) | Non proof read

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A/N: I've been gone for god knows how long since I'm been unmotivated and busy, and I'd be less active now 😔 for all the promises of continue parts, that I did, forgive me y'all, I'll just come by and drop small drabble whenever I could.

Thinking about how gym rat Sunghoon would post his thirst trap of his biceps online, that delicate just for you, cuz he knows that you'd be drooling for him like a hungry idiot in his room, feet kicking, hair pulling, eating the wall. It was all intentional.

And Sunghoon knows it, even if you didn't say anything about how hot and attractive he was with that few shots of selca, that showcase his mascule, those arms that sweat, which make your mind can't help but thinking wild about a lot of stuff known to man kind. You'd imagine licking his dripping pits, the kind of aroma that'd make you daydream the whole time. Squeezing his tits would be such a thing, while cuddling as you sucking like a baby's pacifier to sleep. And last but not least, who wouldn't wonder, how big Sunghoon can be, the size, the grith, everything.

There's no way, one never thought of it, and you are one of them. Due to his pale skin texture, ofc you'd think his dick is gonna be pale shade, lower down the base to the tip, the pink uncut, the glans definitely peeking, aw. His balls might be stretching yet sacks full of sperm, might as well the load that ready and prepared just for you.

///

"M/n—ah you don't think you love my dick a lil too much? How can someone worship a dick like I'm some sort of genie?"

Sunghoon sighs, his air getting shorter and shallower by sec, due to the pleasure that builds up in his balls, he can't lie that such an inexperienced could be this fucking good at a blow job. You respond with nothing but eye contacts that hold the taller captivated in place, all he could do was complain how good you were.

Bobbing your head like a machine out of control, Sunghoon's fat grips, find its way at the back of your head as he pushes you in deeper, feeling his 9 inches veiny ah-dick at the back of your sloppy throat. His face contours in resistance, his teeth sinking on his bottom lip, that potential bleed at any moment, like a rope about to snap in half. Meanwhile you enjoy what you are doing right now, along with your small palms, squeezing Sunghoon's butt cheeks on it dear life, eager to feel everything as if the world is ending tomorrow. This was your last straw since who would know if another day you'll never get this chance again, better go hard than stiff.

"Aehh— bae bee, hold on hm? I can't— *whimpers* I'm gonna cum, please I'm going to explode— SHIT I'M FUCKING CUMMING"

The airplane didn't even wait and so is the surge of Sunghoon's sperm, rush in full speed before it explodes a hyperspermia inside of your mouth, painted your flesh white, tacky, and musky.

To the point HE shades a tear to how much he feels in his brain, the first and once pleasure Sunghoon experience in his life time .

"Cum...cum... You broke me M/n I can't feel my cock"

///

"M/n! Hey m/n !!"

"Oh— uh what?"

"You've been space out while looking at me, Why don't you admit that you find me hot, a lil word out wouldn't hurt!"

Actually you were daydream the whole time? How unfortunately. Suddenly you felt a wet sensation, it not sweat nor your spilled water bottle and you look down to realize that, it was your dick leaking, a pre-cum in your underwear.

[mindfulmindthief]

How to be good for your hypnotist

I've had a few experiences lately, as an erotic hypnotist, that left me feeling a bit used and disappointed, and which made me not want to work with that person again.

So, I thought I'd put a little post up describing a few completely non-financial ways that subjects can leave their hypnotists feeling rewarded, and help to ensure that one-off sessions have an optimal chance of being repeated in the future:

1) Honesty

Honesty is hard, I know, and I know that many people come to hypnosis when they're struggling to be honest with themselves about who they are and what they want. But please, be honest with your hypnotist, even and especially if the truth is complicated and nuanced.

If I ask you a question, please answer it honestly, as it'll help me do my work inside your mind. If you're not willing to answer, that's fine, say that, but don't lie to me. Similarly, if I ask you if you're feeling that tingling on your neck, and you don't, be honest. This doesn't mean I'm a bad hypnotist, or you're a bad subject, just that a different approach is needed, and knowing how you actually react makes it easier to do my work.

Also, be honest about who you are. You don't have to be society's 'perfect' image of masculinity or femininity to be desirable. People love and play with people from all backgrounds and walks of life, and if you're a 60 year old man who wants to feel like an 18 year old cheerleader, say that, because somebody might be game, and they'll do a better job if they know that's what they're doing. But it's disheartening when the '25/F' you're talking to eagerly sends you pictures of some plasticky influencer as 'selfies she just took', and I'd rather hear "I don't feel comfortable sending pics" than be lied to. It's also really disconcerting when you realize that the person you just took time to talk with was 45 on their blog a few months ago, and suddenly became 20 within a few weeks of posting, because then, who knows how old you really are.

Please note, it's not a good idea to give identifying information to somebody you don't trust very much, so I will never fault somebody for using a fake name or a fake city or withholding information about work and life, but where it's safe, be honest.

2) Stick around until the end

I cannot express how disappointing it is when subjects cum and run. Going from 'Wow, this is going great' to 'Oh, they've stopped responding' is an unpleasant way to pay back somebody who put in actual work to get you there. Men, particularly, seem to do this a lot, and it's so predictable that it makes my bisexual self a bit less likely to play with men. So, even if you happen to finish, stick around, let us bring you back, give us feedback, say thank you, and then roll over and fall asleep.

3) Give good Feedback

For me, one of my favorite parts is hearing about your experience. Not only does it turn me on, but it helps me understand what I did which went well, went poorly, and what blew your mind. So, the very best way you can thank me for a great experience is by telling me, in vivid detail, how you experienced it. What was arousing, what was distracting, what made you drop, and what made you explode. Even if you're exhausted, or have to be up early, or just need to run, take the time later to tell me what happened. So, if you want to do this again sometime, tell me how it was, in vivid, useful, and ideally lewd, detail. If I trance you, and get erotica about it the next day, you're on the top of my list.

4) Referrals

Even if, like me, you don't care for the 'good toys bring more good toys' approach or 'building a harem', for many, it's quite flattering to have somebody in your DMs saying "Oh, my friend said you're incredible to play with, I'd like to play too if you're open." So, if you like to share, you could always ask your hypnotist if they'd like you to do some recruitment. But again, this is not everybody's taste.

5) Sharing parts of yourself

This can mean many things. If you're in the same room as your hypnotist, well, I suspect you both can negotiate ways to share parts of yourself. But online, there are many ways to share yourself. Maybe this is by being open and exposing your mind and your desires and your thoughts. Maybe this is by being open and showing your body, in photos or video, if you're comfortable. Maybe this is by chatting on voice, and letting me hear your moans. Maybe you're even open to chatting on video, and letting me watch you melt. Once you get on video, maybe you want to be comfy, or maybe you want to be porn. And maybe you want to share yourself for just my eyes, or post your exploits for the world. You don't have to share yourself in any of these ways, but it sure is more fun to have a bit more of you, and both audio and video make doing my hypnotic job much, much easier.

Please be conscious about your face or identifying tattoos, as Facial recognition exists. So, even with somebody you trust, a cute mask, a careful camera angle, a bit of blur, or a tightened hoodie are not out of line. There should be no shame in anything between consenting adults, but that doesn't stop people from shaming or threatening, and your hypnotist should understand if an ounce of prevention makes you more comfortable for a pound of trance.

6) Cooperation

This part sort of goes without saying, but we are in it for control, and we want our toys to follow our directions. So, if we ask you not to touch, sit on your hands if you have to. If we ask you to lay down, do so. If we ask you to do 'homework' between sessions, please do your best to do it. Life happens, but 'no lol i didn't practice the mantra just maek me say it now im horny' is not a great feeling. Similarly, if you're asked to listen to a file between sessions, either do so, or explain why you're not comfortable doing it. But just ignoring an order is disrespectful, and if you don't do the work for me, why should I do the work for you?

Yes, we're hypnotists, and if we want to, we can make you obey anyway. Sometimes, that's the fun. And, of course, there's a place for brats and resistance, but unless we negotiate that you want to brat or resist, being a brat is just being unpleasant. That's a game we must both play.

So, even if you want to be forced to obey more later, obeying the little directives is a good way to show respect, it helps me control you better, and it makes it clear that you're such a good little subject, who merits to have their brains thoroughly scrubbed.

Of course, there are other ways, and the best way to find out is to ask. But if you're doing some or all of these things well, there's a good chance you'll be seen as a wonderful, desirable subject.

[winxfairyliveshere]

Night Dress

Ruben Dias x Girlfriend Reader

Something is happening in the building and you guys went out to look for it. But Ruben gets jealous.

HELLO! I hope you will like it 💋 English is not my first language so if there are mistakes excuse me 🤗 Feedbacks are very welcome in my blog! Don't forget to hit heart button 💕

Gif credit: @ruben-dias

You frowned your eyebrows, pulling the duvet nearly your face. But she is not giving up, still tries to open it. Sleep is like a black hole right now, absorbing you in the bed until you felt a slap in your face. And then again and again and again. With the anger and discomfort you are feeling, you threw the duvet off with a huff and looked into her eyes. She was tame despite her acts before. Some high voices, shoutings were coming from somewhere. It made you look to the door with concern, even if the heating system was on, it didn't stop you from feeling the cold. That's when she jumped on your lap following with a "Meow."

While she was on your lap, arms wrapping around her fur, your right hand searched for the lamp button in the dark, couldn't find it like it's your first night here. You gave it a second chance and made it. While all of this, voices had stopped for a moment. But your heart was literally a grenade to explode. Although, your boyfriend Ruben was sleeping like a princess Aurora: bare back, arms to the sides, his head turned to the left, his lips parted. Dim of the light helped you to see his toned arms and biceps that always makes you feel safe. This is the time for feeling safe again so you tapped his back while saying his name. Voices were coming from the apartment hall probably, you thought, different men voices shouting at night. You failed in first time waking up Ruben, you gave a second try but this time sharper.

"Ruben!" said his name while holding his arms and shaking him. He grumbled something which you don't understand. He turned his head to the other side. Is he deaf suddenly?

"Ruben wake up something is happening. Get up quickly!" words left your mouth while grabbing his hair. Your cat must saw your miserable condition, she also came to help, replaced her paws on his bare back, trying to push him.

Ruben got up furiously with messy hair. "What are you doing in the middle of the night? Are you crazy?" talked towards you while rubbing his eyes, making them get used to the light. You opened your mouth but immediately closed them because a man was literally screaming like someone is taking his soul. Rúben's eyes widened in shock, he got out of the bed fastly, started to wear his slippers but he hit his toe.

"Holy shit"

He picked his navy blue shirt, wore it while walking towards to the source of voices. After he got up, you also got up leaving the cat on the bed. Your long night dress tripped around your legs. What a clumsy couple tonight.

"Ruben! Hey, slow down."

"Y/n go back to the bed."

"No i am not. I can't leave you alone. And i wanna know what's happening." He sighed, he knew you are noisy person.

"Okay at least stay in the house, alright?"

"Okay okay"

Ruben looked through the door hole and said "Nothing. It is probably in the elevator side. Stay here." Your apartment was at the end of the long hall with other neighbors. When you left the elevator and walked straight a bit, you need to turn left for your apartment. It's like a secret door in the corner. Ruben chosed this flat because it means less people and kinda "isolated" place. That's why he saw nothing. He opened the door and voices were clear to understand now. He walked, you waited a bit and then followed his steps.

"You can't touch me!"

"Sir please can you let me? I am trying to help you." A man was lying on the floor, a police officer on top of him. And other two officers holding his arms. Paramedics were preparing a sedative injection. It was Mr. Reckwood. He was a decent person from outside but in the past days you heard a few things: He lost his everything because of his gambling addiction, had a lot of debt, banks not giving loans.

Other neighbors were also in the hall, even that old lady in the upstairs was here. She told everything to Ruben although he didn't ask. Mr. Reckwood came to his flat late of the night, drunk, started to scream. And what happened after was in front of everyone's eyes. While you three were standing in the corner -you, Ruben, old lady- Ruben saw some eyes. That teenager boy was looking at you, examining your body with his greens. Ruben is not caring about that drunk anymore, he wishes young boy to go inside, looking him with blunt eyes but no. Teenager is still there. Ruben turned, blocking your body with his, grabbing your left arm. He made you walked backwards so old lady can't hear you two.

"Ruben what is this?"said to him with a little smile. But he was serious, "I can walk straight."

After you guys came to your apartment door, he realesed you from his hand.

"What was this? A game?"

"I am asking you what is this?" His hand refering your body. "I told you to stay inside. But no, you can't. Can you listen to me just one time? Look at you."

Oh-uh. You were wearing a long, black night dress with laces, it was long yes but it had a high cut on your right leg. Very high. Very thin straps, breasts covering with just black lace. Laces were darker on the nipple, so your nipples were safe but about the rest... So maybe, yes, Ruben is right. You looked down "I am sorry love. I didn't realize. I was on rush."

"What rush? Huh, what rush? Do you work as a doctor, police or fire-fighter?" He grabbed your chin, making your eyes met.

"Answer me."

"No i do not." With your fingers you traced over his left arm, "I am sorry let's go inside."

He pushed you from your shoulder lightly to the inside. While he was closing the door, old lady yelled.

"Hey Ruben, they are taking him to the hospital. Poor man is so drunk, injection didn't work much."

"Thank you Mrs. Walsh, appreciate it."

She smiled full teeth, "You are welcome, go sleep, you need it. Good night." Ruben greeted her with a nodding and closed the door.

"Maybe she likes you."

"You are talking and acting nonsense tonight."

"My apology was a nonsense to you?"

You wrapped your arms to his neck,caressing his nape and hair.

"That boy was literally eating you with his eyes."

You laughed so so much, needed a seat.

"Did you get jealous of a boy? A boy? Ruben he is in middle school. I thought you got angry because of officers or someone else."

"So?"

You reached his wrists, pulling him to you and making him sit next to you.

You imitated him by saying "So?"

"Don't you count boys as a male? He is a teenager, very dangerous ages actually."

"Dangerous?? Oh my God Ruben. I can't believe you." You sit on his lap. "You got jealous of a boy, unbelievable."

Because of the sitting, your legs were visible. Cut on the dress doing it's job. Only for Ruben. His big hand caressing your legs, touching between them. "I was a boy one time."

"Eww, Ruben. So what were you doing while?"

He opened his lips but you closed it with your hand.

"No don't talk. I don't want to hear. About tonight, i am sorry again. I will be more careful."

While his hand resting on your legs, other one went to your neck, pushing your hair back. He controlled your head by your neck, making you closer to his face. Your lips met for a long kiss. Your hands roaming in his back. After kiss you smiled on his lips, foreheads resting together. He made his move with his tongue this time, you let him. You always let him. Both of your tongues dancing together, salivas blending like paint on a brush. You are feeling the blood goes to your cheeks, making them full-red. Right that time, your cat jumped on your legs suddenly. Your lips left Rúben's. He pulled his hand out from under her.

"Oh my beautiful girl! You did a good job tonight." You hugged her, kissing her ears. While scratching her tummy you said "You deserve a treat tonight."

You got up from Rúben's lap, "What treat? She woke us for a no reason."

"No reason? She understood there is a strange situation and came to us. That shows if something happens in here she will be here to protect us."

"Will she protect us? Really?"

"Yes really. Tonight showed me if something happens, you will turn into a Sleeping Beauty, waiting for a kiss to wake up." He got up from sofa, walked to you.

"No, i don't wait for a kiss. If i want a kiss"

He cupped your face with his hands and placed a kiss to your lips, your cheeks, tip of your nose and lastly your forehead.

"If i want a kiss, i get it. I don't wait."

I really hope you liked it 🙈

[cherryredstars]

helloo!! i have a request for subby miguel:

could you write a bratty sub miguel who the reader asks to top for the first time and he agrees because he’s not convinced that she can do it? so he keeps making all these snide remarks and tries super hard to maintain his composure while she’s slowly unraveling him and at the end he’s just like a broken whimpering mess for her 😍

anyways you’re one of my favorite blogs on here and i adore the way you write!! everytime i see your banners pop up i get so giddy lol i literally love your fics

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex

A/N: Aw thank you, love!!!

Unedited

He's confused, a little bit delirious too.

Usually, you're so tired. You're naturally a sleepy person, needing a nap after doing a handful of tasks that aren't exactly complex to begin with. He suspects that's the reason why he's usually on top of you, plowing his cock into you while you just need to lay there and take it. But even then you whimper out your tiredness. Sniffing into his neck how the force of his thrusts and the position he's forcing you into are making your thighs hurt. Mewling out how it's too much after both of you orgasm the first time that night.

So when you bat your pretty eyes at him and ask for his permission to let you bounce on his dick, he can't help but laugh. It's not supposed to be an entirely mean laugh, but he can see the furrow of your brow as you pout at him. Of course he agrees, chuckling to himself knowing that after a few thrusts you'll get too tired to lift yourself off his fat cock, mewling for him to help you until he's got you laying flat on the bed and feeding your poor pussy the dick it so desperately wants. And you're starting to prove him right.

His hands rest behind his head, preventing him from helping you as he watches you. Your own hands are flat on his chest, your mouth open with whimpers as you lift yourself off and on his dick. He can hear the wet squelches of your cunt, groaning occasionally when you roll your hips. But the quick pace you had before is slowly dying down, barely pulling yourself off his dick before sinking back down. He smirks at you, slowly pulling his hands from behind his head with a chuckle.

"It's okay, mi vida." He begins, "I'll help you, poor baby."

But before he can plant his hands on your hips, you shift. You let out a low moan as you drag your hands further down his chest, planting them on the hard ridges of his abs. You fix your position, sitting straighter and spreading your legs wider around his thighs. Miguel opens his mouth, only to be cut off when you begin vigorously impaling yourself on his dick. Your pace is faster than when you started, and you mumble out small whimpers of 'please' every time you take him to the hilt. You're completely consumed in your own pleasure to realize that Miguel's eyes are rolling back and he's fisting the sheets. His hips are desperately meeting yours, his back arching as your puffy walls clench tight around his cock. The forceful slaps of skin do nothing to drown out his moans and whimpered curses.

His mind is getting foggier with each thrust, his cock twitching against your tight walls as a burning feeling forms in his stomach. It explodes right after yours, a high pitch keen leaving your mouth as your walls milk him. He grits out a curse as you continue bouncing on his cock despite your orgasm and his, begging him for more and more. You don't seem even remotely tired or show any signs of stopping.

He's getting a little scared that you'll fuck him into oblivion.

[neiptune]

it’s valentine’s day, you clown

cw: 1.2k wc, blank blogs don't interact, something something your volleyball superstar boyfriend tooru flies home to surprise you only to pass out on your bed, this is my first ever hq fic and it's a complete coincidence that it's about him please be nice and don't make any assumptions

thank you @moondust-lore for reading this 🤍

His breathing stays regular and quiet as you crawl onto the mattress. Your bed is still somehow comically small and far from ideal to accomodate that unique ensemble of long limbs, sturdy muscles and swooping brown hair. Yet his sleep is serene, features relaxed that fill your chest with warmth that almost prompts your fingers to run through smooth locks. How have they not been rendered thicker or dry by the sea salt yet?

You’re careful as you snuggle closer to his broad back, not really wanting to wake him up. A small smile creeps onto your lips at the thought of how tired he must’ve been, couldn’t even bother to properly slip underneath the covers, knocked out in seconds. Flying all the way to Japan, travelling for almost 24 full hours to surprise someone must do that to a person.

The shock has worn out, the sensation of your heart being one second from bursting and exploding into a million golden confetti has dimmed. Now your head feels clear enough for your mind to be focusing on the important stuff, the mundane thoughts you didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on for months are a messy but colorful vortex. Would he like the usual for dinner? Does the uniform or any shirts need some ironing? Yes, yes, Tooru favors dry cleaners because they’re practical and he’s rich but you desperately want to contribute. You want proof that he’s home, actually home. With his big designer suitcases and wrinkled shirts and ridiculously expensive glasses and a smile that still shifts your world’s axis.

You allow yourself to scoot closer, until your nose brushes against his shoulder. He radiates a comforting  warmth and smells nice as always. Of sunscreen, beaches, the cologne you have bought for his birthday. As you shut your eyes, memories from the previous night start slowly blurring the edges of your consciousness and lull you to sleep.

“Shit! Fuck!” you jolt awake at the unexpected profanities, the last thing you remember dreaming about including tanned skin and a much more peaceful scenery made of rolling waves and golden, powdery sand.

“What… what’s wrong?!”

Oikawa Tooru is looking at your with what could be only defined as a glare. Eyes squinted, accusatory worry lines and all.

“You let me sleep? Why were you sleeping too instead of waking me up? It’s late!” his pitch gets higher with each word and by the end of the fully formed sentence you’re grimacing. The awfully old digital alarm clock on your nighstand flashes a red 11:05 PM.

“I’m sorry!” you panic “I didn’t mean to fall asleep! I know it’s late but I can probably put something together for dinner anyway? Are you that hungry? Wait, actually, let me get something delivered and…”

Now he’s staring with an openly outraged look on his pretty face, which makes you think finishing the thought probably isn’t the smartest idea.

“You… don’t want me to order in? I mean, fine, you can pick any local restaurant or takeaway, I don’t really ca-”

“Are you stupid?”

Ok, well. That feels unfair.

“I already apologized for falling asleep, no need to be a jerk” now you’re squinting your eyes at him. One eye. The other is being relentlessly rubbed.

“You’re right” he sighs and his massive shoulders slump, head hanging low like a wounded animal “it’s not your fault. I’m the dumb one. Couldn’t even set an alarm”

“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion, we can still eat something. If you’re worrying about your sleep schedule, I’m sure I can find some sleeping pills or…”

Oikawa looks at you, exasperated.

“That’s definitely not what I’m worried about”

“What the hell are you worried about, then?”

“It’s valentine’s day, you clown”

You blink back your surprise, his fond eye roll not easing the heat that takes over your face as realization finally dawns on you. “That’s… that’s why you flew here?”

Tooru leans forward to lightly flick your forehead. A car passes down the street, the light bleeding through your shades brightens the room for a moment and you catch the sincere amusement in his eyes.

“Yes, darling dearest. That’s exactly why I flew here. I was also supposed to make plans, take you out on a proper date, rob a flower shop from the inside out instead of passing out and drooling on your favorite duvet”

You stare back at his comical frown for a few seconds more before falling back into your pillows with a chuckle.

“Glad you think this is funny and not irredeemably gross. Stop giggling, let me think. I’m gonna go buy the most expensive champagne bottle and pick dandelions along the fucking sidewalk if I have to, and then-”

“Tooru”

“What?” he’s already swinging one leg over the edge of the bed “I’ll be quick”

“You’re here”

Oikawa snorts.

“Yes, I’m still here. Now, if you could kindly let go of my shirt…”

“I don’t want any of those things. You know I don’t want them”

He huffs and air comes out of his nose. “Yeah, I know. But I wanted it to be special” his tone is petulant but you recognize the real thing vibrating underneath, the genuine disappointment.

“It’s already special because you’re here. The only thing that could make it extra special is you filling this cold, empty spot next to me” you pat the covers with a lenient smile and Oikawa allows himself three seconds, three entire seconds to sulk and flash you those big, wet, sopping eyes with a pout that makes him less of a volleyball superstar and more of a kicked labrador puppy.

You welcome his painfully heavy body on top of yours, sharp angles and hard muscles that somehow melt perfectly in your embrace. He’s holding you so tight, head buried in the crook of your neck, soft hair tickling your cheek.

“I’m sorry” Tooru murmurs the apology quietly and seals it into your skin. You know he truly is, devastated as he always gets when something doesn’t go according to the plan. Always one for grandiose gestures and loud displays of affection, chasing whatever it takes to validate how he feels just in case the other person needs proof, always additional proof heaven forbid they feel neglected or get bored. His confidence wavering, his mind always running 100 miles an hour. Am I doing enough? Am I still enough?

“I love you” you reply for good measure and his arms tighten around your body.

But do I deserve it?

“Thank you for flying across the planet to get to me” you smile into his hair before kissing the side of his head “I missed you”

“I’d fly across the solar system to get to you” he’s smiling too, it’s in his voice.

“Corny” with a grin, you pinch his cheek until he looks up with an exaggerated, pained groan. But before he has the chance to protest, you take his disgustingly pretty face in your hands. 

“Wherever you fly from, I’ll be there to welcome you home”

Tooru smiles into the kiss, chases your lips when you relax back into the pillows.

And I’ll spend my life trying to deserve it.

Good thing he has at least five different Havanna Alfajores variety boxes somewhere in one of those suitcases. And two tickets to fly back to Argentina.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

I Need You

George Russell x Fem!Reader

Requested: A anon who sent me a beautiful message had requested something George related so I made it smut.

Warnings: SMUT

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

F1 Masterlist

The celebrations were in full swing. George, the dashing Formula 1 driver, had just won his second Grand Prix in Austria, and the team was ecstatic.

The champagne flowed freely, and the atmosphere was electric. Among the well-wishers was me, George's girlfriend of two months. I was stunning, with shimmering eyes that seemed to see right through him, and I had a body that captivated his imagination.

As the party continued, George and I found ourselves locked in an intense gaze. It was as if the world around us had melted away, and only we existed. George felt his desire for me intensifying with each passing second. He knew he had to have me, but he didn't want to rush things. Our relationship was still fresh, and he wanted to respect that.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with longing. "But I don't want to rush. Are you sure about this?"

my heart pounded in my chest. I had desired this man from the moment I laid eyes on him, and now, here he was, offering me something even more intimate. I bit my lip, my eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I've wanted you from the start, George. I'm not going to say no now."

Without another word, George took my hand and led me away from the celebrations.

We made our way to his driver's room, a private space where he could relax between races. As soon as the door closed behind us, the passion that had been building between us exploded.

George pressed me against the door, his lips crushing mine in a hungry kiss. I moaned, opening my mouth to welcome his invading tongue. His hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts and squeezing them gently. I arched my back, pressing my chest into his hands, my nipples hardening at his touch.

Breaking the kiss, George trailed hot kisses along my jawline and down my neck. He nibbled and sucked on the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of wet, sparkling marks. I gasped, my head falling back to give him better access.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "To taste every inch of you."

His hands slid down my body, grasping my hips and pulling me towards him. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my belly, and I ground myself against him, already aching for release.

George chuckled, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. "Eager, aren't we?”

Before I could respond, George lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist. Still kissing me passionately, he walked us over to the bed and laid me down gently. He hovered over me, his eyes burning with desire as he took in the sight of my naked body.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, running a hand up my thigh. "Absolutely gorgeous."

I blushed, my cheeks contrasting with my heated skin. I reached for him, pulling him down for another kiss. Our tongues danced together as George's hand slid between my thighs. He stroked me gently, his touch feather-light, making me whimper into his mouth.

"Please, George," I begged, my voice hoarse with need. "I need you now."

With a growl, George ripped open the button of his jeans, his hard length springing free. My eyes widened at the sight of his thick cock, straining with desire. I reached out, wrapping my hand around him and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Your turn to be eager," I teased, stroking him slowly.

George hissed, bucking his hips into my hand. "Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good."

He stepped back, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes before returning to the bed. George positioned himself between my legs, his tip teasing my entrance. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he slid into me, filling me completely.

I cried out, my head tossing from side to side as I adjusted to his size. George stayed still, giving me time to get used to the feel of him. Then, he began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, deeper this time.

"Oh, God," I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as pleasure washed over me. "Yes, just like that."

George set a slow, relentless pace, each thrust driving deeper into my wet heat. I met his movements, pushing back against him, my hips moving in perfect harmony. our bodies slapped together, the sound filling the room, mingling with our heavy breathing and moans.

As the pleasure built, George reached between us, finding my clit and rubbing it in circles. I cried out, my back arching off the bed.

"Don't stop, please don't stop," I panted, my fingers tangling in his hair.

George quickened his pace, pounding into me with force. The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard banging against the wall with each powerful thrust. My breath came in short gasps as I felt my orgasm building, a coiling tension deep in my core.

"Cum for me, baby," George groaned, his own release threatening to overtake him. "Let me feel you cum around me."

His words sent me over the edge. I cried out, my body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over me. George felt my pussy clenching around him, milking his cock, and it pushed him over the brink. With a hoarse shout, he spilled himself inside me, his hips stuttering as he filled me with his release.

We lay tangled together, our breathing slowly returning to normal. George brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his thumb gently caressing my cheek.

"That was incredible," he murmured, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

I smiled back, my eyes sparkling. "It certainly was."

Unbeknownst to us, our passionate encounter had an unexpected witness.

Lewis Hamilton, George's teammate, had heard the noises coming from George's room and had decided to investigate. He had watched, his breath quickening as he spied on the couple, his hand moving faster and faster over his own cock as he listened to our passionate moans and watched our bodies move together.

Now, as he adjusted his clothes, Lewis couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy mixed with arousal. He knew that what he had done was an invasion of privacy, but he couldn't deny the primal satisfaction he felt seeing George lose control like that.

As Lewis made his way back to his own room, a smile played on his lips. Perhaps there were some benefits to this new development. After all, he now had some very intriguing material for his own fantasies. And who knew, maybe this wouldn't be the last time he got to witness such a sexy display.

——————

pt. 2 maybe?

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi i @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess s @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[reblcaptain]

death can be kinder (but not always)

summary: Jyn Erso survived Scarif, alongside Cassian Andor. This follows her feelings on their survival and their future.

word count: 474

pairing: jyn erso x cassian ador

notes: ★~ hello there !!! First of all, thank you for reading this fic ! second of all, I would like to apologize if there are any mistakes, english is not my first language. Also it's been literally YEARS since I've written something that isn't a school assignment. So I hope I did a good job and that you enjoyed what I wrote ! Anyway, sending love to all the rebelcaptain fans out there <3 Please leave a comment if you liked it ! Or leave a comment to say how I can improve my writings :p

warnings: none

It was hard to say what to do next.

How does one continue to live after all that destruction ?

How does one continue to live after all that death and solitude that seemed to follow her whenever she went ?

Just a few days ago, Jyn Erso might have laughed if someone told her that at one point, life could be so quiet. That life didn't always mean running away or being abandoned by the people close to her. And that one day, she wouldn't be afraid of the silence who reigned in this atmosphere.

Jyn Erso had never known peace. The closest she got to it was back on Lah'mu, where her mother taught her all kinds of things, and her father would farm. At that time she was content, even happy. But after Lah’mu, she had known nothing but fear, and abandon.

Now, everything was different. She found a meaning in her life, through her father's plans. She found faith through the rebellion.

And she found hope through Cassian Andor.

The man that lied to her, but also the man who came back for her every time.

The man who trusted her when no one else would.

The man who took her hand on Scariff, and embraced her when they believed it was the end.

At that moment, she felt at peace knowing she would be back with her loved ones, and she believes Cassian Andor felt the same thing. Death would open its arms for them.

But it was not the end.

It seemed like a miracle to everyone, and even them, that they got away.

And it was surely this that scared her.

They got away. They survived the end of the world.

All she had known her entire life was war. And from that she's been told, so has Cassian. She was afraid. How was she supposed to continue her life after the war ?

But she was certain for once : she was not in the cave anymore.

The cave had disappeared just like Scarif.

It exploded into millions different pieces.

And although this new life was terrifying, she had one thing now.

A companion, a partner, a fellow.

Without knowing so, Cassian Andor has been her anchor. Although it was her father that pushed back into the rebellion, Cassian was what pushed her to continue. To continue into something that only brought her pain and death. Could he have been her hope ? It was hard to say.

But one thing was for sure : Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor were alive. Nothing nor nobody could stop them anymore. Because now they both had each other.

When life had taken everything from each of them, they found each other when they needed it the most.

Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor would learn to heal, to forgive and to live.

And it's what mattered the most at the end.

(im tagging some of my favorites blogs on Tumblr talking about Jyn Erso/rebelcaptain , if you are one of those blog, feel free to ignore this if you don't want to ^^)

[thank you for reading my work! please if you enjoyed it, leave a comment or send an ask, my requests are open!!]

@andorerso @rebelcptain @jynjackets @bastardash @uchatadara @flowerkosmos @wandrianule