#Moisturizes & Soothes feet

[pawsome-pals]

Step-By-Step Guide: How To Apply Dog Paw Balm For Maximum Benefits

We all know that taking care of our furry friends involves a lot more than just feeding them and taking them for walks. Have you ever noticed your pup’s paws looking a little rough or cracked after a long day of play? If so, you’re not alone. Your dog’s paws are precious as they support every movement, from chasing after a ball to those long, joyful walks in the park. They endure a lot of wear and tear. That’s where a good paw soothing balm comes in to save the day!

For more information, visit: https://medium.com/@pawsome_pals/step-by-step-guide-how-to-apply-dog-paw-balm-for-maximum-benefits-c100128812a4

[agronayurveda]

#crackrid by #AgronAyurveda & #agronremedies Dry & rough feet, Cracked heels, Sore or itchy feet, Moisturizes & Soothes feet, Deeply nourishes and repair skin

#ordernow : https://www.agronayurveda.net/product-page/crackrid-cream

for #bulkorders Call : +918859000627

[dark-moonlust]

Hi there, this is my first time sending an ask.

I was wondering if could you do a bear hybrid x fem reader. I really love the concept of a bear hybrid but there's not really a lot of stuff on that.

Thank you, your avid reader

Sure thing anon! I hope this is to your liking! 🖤🥂 Happy reading!

Claimed by the Bear Hybrid

Pairing: bear hybrid x f!human reader

Summary: you are strolling the woods when you meet a bear hybrid who claims you as his.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18++!!!, slightly non-con, oral (f!receiving), big 🍆, p in v, lots of 💦.

“You’re mine now,” the creature rumbled, deep and commanding. 

You forgot how to breathe, your heart stuttering at the sight of the bear hybrid before you. Standing on his two back feet, the massive hybrid towered over you, making it impossible for you to escape. The creature had the build of a very big and muscled man, but his dark fur, size and strength were unmistakably bear-like. 

Not to mention that between his legs hung the most glorious cock you’d ever seen. It was as thick as your forearms and long, longer than seven inches—with the angry red head leaking moisture. Two heavy, hairy balls hung from between his thighs, throbbing visibly. An involuntary shiver traveled through you, not at all fearful. He grunted and shifted, his nose smelling the air. Then his eyes, they were completely dark, fixed on you with a hunger that brought back the fear inside you.

Oh, how foolish you had been thinking that a stroll in the woods would be harmless. You were alone with an apex predator in his own habitat, and he was about to devour you, oh the irony… the forest was dense and filled with the sounds of nature and the chirping of birds. It was such a beautiful morning, so unlike your fate.  

“Pl—please… I won’t hurt you,” you uttered, terrified out of your wits. “Let me go and—”

“Never!” he rasped powerfully. “You. Are. Mine.”

You barely had time to react before he closed in on you, his huge body dwarfing yours. He was three heads taller than you and that much heavier. A strong hand grasped you as he scooped you up, hanging you over his shoulder. Paralyzed, you shouted and writhed, but no help came as he carried you effortlessly toward his cave. 

Once inside his lair, cool air welcomed you to a bed of soft furs. His eyes never left yours as he climbed on the massive bed beside you, his hands gripping your ankles, strong enough but careful not to bruise you. You couldn’t escape. Tears flew down your cheeks as he ripped your clothes apart, his sharp claws removing every layer until you lay completely exposed before him. 

“Shhhh…” his voice was soothing. “I will not harm you, little human. You are my mate.”

“Nnn…no.” Embarrassed, you crossed your hands in front of your breasts. “This can’t be! We can’t—”

“You are mine,” he repeated stubbornly. “You tremble and leak nectar for me.”

To prove his point, he spread open your legs, exposing the soaked slit of your pussy. Your plump folds glistened with arousal, and you flushed at the sight. You’d refused to accept what your instinct was telling you, but there was no mistaking it now; the hybrid didn’t want to kill you; he wanted to fuck you. And for some strange reason that made you ever wetter, your heart beating frantically.

Your breath hitched when you felt his callused fingers brushing along your chest. You protested, but his strength was great, and he drew your arms apart, exposing your breasts to him. Big hands cradled each breast, thumbs skimming over your nipples until they turned into hard little buds. You whimpered, tears in your eyes, because each stroke felt good, awakening a mix of fear and arousal. You could feel his strength, his raw power, and it both thrilled and scared you. 

“Pretty and soft,” the hybrid muttered as he massaged your mounds and caressed your nipples. “Such roundness.”

It was at that moment that you realized you had arched your back to offer more of yourself to him. He took this chance eagerly and bent down to engulf the entirety of one tit in his mouth. The suction was warm and wet, his tongue rough and textured as it circled your nipple. Lips quivering, you shivered as he stroked and suckled, crying out softly when he alternated to the other mound. 

Strong hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as he lowered his head between your thighs. He inhaled your pussy, then breathed over it. You shivered all over, especially when his tongue flicked out, licking up and down your folds before delving inside. You jolted at the electric sensation, long moans escaping you as his rough tongue fucked you with primal thrusts. He ate you out, his growls vibrating against your pussy. Hands gripping the sheets, you rocked against him, hips arching toward his mouth. 

“Such a soft little cunt; it tastes so sweet, better than honey,” he murmured, tongue spearing your pussy. 

“Pl-please,” you whispered, barely able to form the words and unsure of what you were begging for. To stop? To keep going? You were so pleasure-hazed that you had no idea what to do. 

He chuckled. “You’ll get more, mate.”

Hands gripping your ass, he brought you closer to his face, spreading your folds as he continued his sweet torment. His snout caressed your clit and you bucked against him, your moans filling the cave and echoing off the walls. Your orgasm tore through you, strong and blissful, surging from your head to your toes, and despite your violent thrashing, his tongue still drove inside you, devouring every drop of your release.

Head falling back against the bed, you opened your legs obscenely, offering your pussy to him. He licked you fiercely, then your inner thighs, then up your belly and your breasts. You whined when you felt the heavy weight of something warm and leaky against your fluttering cunt. You looked down and gasped; your ankles were hooked over his broad shoulders and he was rubbing his cock against your slit, his thick girth looking inhumanly big in contrast to your small pussy.  

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” he growled, his hands caressing your inner thighs. “You’re my mate, and I will claim you.”

“Stop— you’re too big—”

But it was too late. A soft hitch of breath left you when he pushed the cockhead inside. It parted your moist pussy lips and drove inside, inch by inch. You whimpered at the stretch, yet his fullness invaded you without discomfort, bottoming out inside you as his balls squeezed against your bum.

You’d done it. You’d taken him. Wow… 

Your thoughts faded when he started moving inside you. Holding your tiny waist in his big hairy hands, he pumped powerfully inside you, watching as his dick spread your lips, then came out covered with your juices. You gripped his arms for dear life, your nails digging into his thick skin. He liked it because he fucked you faster and deeper, each thrust driving you higher and higher. 

“Yes, only my mate can take me,” he growled, his cock making your belly bulge. “I’m going to fill you up, claim you, make you mine.”

The bed creaked from his thrusts, your tits bouncing. He licked them up, suckled them in his mouth as he pounded into you, the plap-plap of skin slapping against skin obscenely wet and lewd. Your cries mingled with his grunts of pleasure, your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock as a second orgasm overwhelmed you. He kept fucking you and followed right after with a feral roar, filling you up with buckets of his cum. He pumped for minutes, over and over, until he had marked you with his seed. 

Breathless and spent, you couldn’t help but collapse into the sheets that smelled like musk and earth. Your body still tingled from the intensity of your union, your legs weak. You couldn’t believe what had happened. You’d heard of many cases of interspecies mating, and now it had happened to you as well. This bear hybrid was your mate. Your soulmate. He’d claimed you, bathed you in his seed. And even if your bond was unusual and fresh, you felt like being truly home.

“You’re mine, all mine,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck, his breath warm against your skin. 

[chewnotchoke]

boynextdoor and their love languages

warning: some suggestive parts, use of real names (riwoo only)

sungho

receiving: quality time, acts of service

𓍯 his type of quality time is visiting new places with you. so he really appreciates it when you call and tell him "let's eat at this restaurant. i heard it's a really good place!" and he'd agree immediately.

𓍯 he gets so excited when he sees your contact name popping on his phone screen because he knows it's call time! he'd answer it on the first ring! when he's busy, he'd call you back immediately and would spend at least an hour talking on the phone

𓍯 loves it when you cook his favorite dish! since he loves affirming you, he always tells you to cook it again for him because apparently, you cook better than a renowned chef.

giving: acts of service, words of affirmation

𓍯 surprises you with bubble baths after a long tiring day. "prepared this for my girl because she has to save up all her energy for tonight."

𓍯 you rely on him opening tightly sealed jars and it actually turns you on. "babe, can you help me open this?" and it was as easy as flicking an ant for him.

𓍯 "i care for you. is there any way i can help?" // "everything's alright, babe. everything's okay because you have me. i'll always be here, hm?"

riwoo

receiving: words of affirmation

𓍯 really really loves affirmations! he gets so red and shy though.

𓍯 he loves it when show expression of appreciation for his work/performance. everytime you say "it was a really nice performance, sanghyuk! you did so well." he'd throw pumches in the air out of excitement and satisfaction.

𓍯 but he would easily get hurt when you talk to him in a low voice or no emotions at all because it makes him overthink :c pls don't raise your voice at him too! he will tear up.

giving: quality time, acts of service

𓍯 to him, giving you 20 minutes of his time means giving you 20 minutes of his life. he values time with you so much.

𓍯 fond of doing your skincare at night OMG. for quality time, he loves doing facial masks together while laying in bed. he'd then start bringing up the first time he met you and tells you how in love he is with you.

𓍯 since he loves affirmation, you'd tell him "oh look at this pretty boy doing my skincare." while he soothes your face with the moisturizer he just applied on your skin, and then he would press his lips together to hide his smile. because of that, he's peck your kiss as his way to appreciate your words.

jaehyun

receiving: physical touch

𓍯 he loves being babied when it's time to go to bed. he loves it when you pull him closer to your chest and cuddle him 'til you hear his cute snores.

𓍯 have i mentioned he loves being babied? because he really likes it when you're all over him, when you grab his face, when you ruffle his hair.

𓍯 "can i get my kiss later?" he would plead at you in the middle of his work. "of course! i'll give you lots of it when we get home. so please just focus on your work for now, alright?" your mouth curved into a smile. "can you give me 100 kisses later?" he couldn't be any cuter when he asks for kisses from you. "i'll give you thousands, jae." you answered. "we'll have to make out then..."

giving: physical touch, acts of service

𓍯 definitely the "after you, my lady" type when opening the door for you.

𓍯 the touchiest of them all! like he wouldn't allow it at all if your knees or feet are not touching under the table during dinner.

𓍯 would get whiny if you sit across him on the table and not beside you. "hey, what's wrong? why are you sitting there? your seat is here." he said as he pats on his lap, giggling like a child.

taesan

receiving: physical touch

𓍯 whenever he does something worthy to be proud of, he would lean his cheek closer to you and tap it with his pointer finger so you could kiss it. you always end up giving him more than what he asks!

𓍯 nothing's more important than holding him when he cries. he rarely cries but this one time he got so vulnerable after a tiring day, he never found a greater comfort than being in your arms.

giving: gifts, quality time, physical touch

𓍯 “my parents aren't home.” he'd chuckle on the other line of the call. you knew what he was trying to imply.

𓍯 he has this hobby of giving you hand-picked flowers!! "would you like me to get you daisies next time? alright, i'll look for daisies next time." he ends up taking all the flowers in your neighbor's garden because he found it as pretty as you.

𓍯 a big spender. doesn't mind of the price as long as he buys it for you.

𓍯 always loves burrying his face on your neck for no reason at all. also, 100% thigh grabber!!!

leehan

receiving: words of affirmation

𓍯 his eyes light up whenever you tell him you remember the things you've done with him, things he likes, and foods you've eaten together even if they happened a long time ago.

𓍯 he gets really emotional when you tell him you don't take him for granted :c

𓍯 both of you loves writing letters for each other especially when it's handwritten. he thinks it means a lot when you spend time writing about him the traditional way.

giving: acts of service, words of affirmation

𓍯 rather than sexual activities, he's more into giving you head pats, combing your hair, rubbing your arms as a way of intimate touching.

𓍯 for leehan, communication is the very essence of a loving relationship. he always seeks understanding and reconciliation every after an argument. "can you tell me how i made you feel like you're being too much? i promise you were never too much for me. let's talk about it, babe."

woonhak

receiving: quality time, words of affirmation

𓍯 he's the type to get discourage easily with the feedbacks he's getting. so you telling him that he's doing a really great job is very important to him.

𓍯 he likes having talks with you after his schedule, where you'd sit in front of the tv without actually watching the tv, and would proceed to talking about each other's day.

giving: quality time, gifts

𓍯 you're That important to him he'd let himself lose the game when you suddenly call out of nowhere just so he could accomodate you. "i'm out guys, i'll be talking to my girlfriend. have fun!"

𓍯 giving gifts = symbol of thought. but he's kinda playful with it. "got that for you because it reminded me of you." and then it's an adorable mushroom plushie because he knows you can't eat mushroom. he would laugh saying, "i know you'll never get to eat mushrooms but at least you can keep that for a lifetime!"

𓍯 proximity ≠ togetherness. when you're together, he always ensures you're included and never forgotten. he doesn't take your presence for granted and makes sure you do things together.

𓍯 this one's really really cute but i definitely see him as the type who would spend time on youtube learning how to make diy gifts for you!

requests are open! i'd gladly work on it if you want me to write something ^__^ comments/reblogs are highly appreciated <3 check my other works too!

[perlelune]

Boadicea | Feyd-Rautha

You took the lives of his men. It's only fair to the na-Baron to have yours in return.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fedaykin! Reader, Fremen Reader, Forced Submission, Dacryphilia, Collars, Mouth Gag, Cannibalism, Knives, Death Fetish, Exhibitionism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Elation bursts through your chest as the dying gurgle of yet another Harkonnen soldier fills your ears. You grow even more satisfied when his body hits the ground. Another screaming bald-headed demon lunges at you. Fierce blows are exchanged. You wince as he nicks you in the flank.

The desperation to win explodes through your veins. You slam your head into his, disorienting him long enough to drive your crysknife right through his gut. Even as he falls across the sand, blood spilling from his gaping mouth, you don’t stop. Unrelenting, you keep stabbing him, fury and vengeance driving your blade. With each strike, more of his dark blood splatters over your face, adding to his slain comrades’.

A war cry rips from your throat when he stops moving. 

You rise on quaking feet, the exhaustion of hours of fending off the never-ending swarm of Harkonnen warriors crashing over you at once.

Your gaze swings across the battlefield. Horror surges within you.

It’s a slaughter. Fellow Fedaykin are burning right before your eyes. The Harkonnen artilleries rained death upon the Fremen troops the likes of which you’ve never seen before. The shock of sheer helplessness drills a gaping hole inside your chest. 

Cowards, you muse bitterly. Of course they will not face you on the ground. It is well-known one Fedaykin is worth a dozen Harkonnen soldiers. None in the known universe fight more ferociously than the Fremen. 

So they resorted to unleash heavy weapons from the sky. The sweltering Arrakis weather did the rest. 

You whirl to your little brother. Just like you, he’s covered in grime, dirt and the putrid ichor that serves as blood to the Harkonnens.

“Run, Kaleb, hide!” you yell in Chakobsa, urgency bleeding in your tone. 

You are lost. So is the rest of the Fedaykin army. But if your brother leaves now, he can use his hooks to call a maker and hitch a ride to safety.

A frown carves your little brother’s brow. “I can’t leave you,” he says.

You grip his shoulders.

“You have to. Get supplies at the village and go south with the others. Do you hear me?”

When he doesn’t reply, staring at you mouth agape, you jostle his slender frame.

“Do you hear me?” you repeat, louder this time.

He gives a shaky nod. “Yes!” 

You remove the cord around your neck to place it around your brother’s instead.

A look of terror distorts his features.

“No, I can’t take your water rings,” he says, his voice trembling.

Your forehead presses against his.

“You must.”

A single errant tear spills down his cheek and you swipe it with your thumb, pressing it between his lips so it reenters his body.

“Do not waste your moisture. Now go.”

Reluctantly, you brother scampers away. A surge of relief fills you as you watch him stand before a dune slope in the distance and plant his thumper into the sand. The drumming begins. The ground starts rumbling some minutes later to signal the arrival of a worm. You dive inside a cave, taking cover as a wave of rising sand crests above the horizon. The deafening familiar hissing of Shai-Hulud surrounds you.

You close your eyes and suck in a wide breath, soothing yourself with a common Fremen saying. 

The Uncleansed who have seen a crysknife may not leave Dune alive.

The screams of Harkonnen soldiers, unprepared for the sudden arrival of a sandworm, swell inside your ears as you settle in your hiding spot.

When the uproar dies, you ponder returning to the battlefield. However, whispers in the cave have you freeze in the rocky dint concealing your presence. 

You lean forward to steal a peek. Your heart bounces. 

Men in full Harkonnen livery stand beneath the vaulted ceiling of the cave.

Your eyes widen as you hear them idly discuss their plans to purge the remainder of the Fremen forces in the south. 

Your focus sharpens. You slow your breaths and dull your quickening heartbeats.

A wild, insane idea takes shape in your head.

If you could stay hidden long enough. Perhaps you could return to Sietch Tabr. Report back to Muad’ Dib. Warn them of the Harkonnens’ plan.

A word keeps pouring from the men’s lips, one whose meaning evades you.

Na-Baron.

Confusion knits your brow. 

As you continue trying to commit the conversation to memory, the chatter abruptly dies.

You go still, your mind buzzing.

The quiet deepens. Only the muffled sounds of the desert remain.

The blunt features of an Harkonnen warrior crowd your sight.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

Before you can hatch an escape plan, you’re roughly dislodged from your hiding spot. 

You struggle against the arms that hold you, whirling to shove your crysknife into the man’s throat. He grabs his throat, choking on his own blood before his body finds the ground with a loud thud. 

More men lunge themselves at you.

You cut down five more Harkonnen soldiers before a swarm of them surrounds you, punching and kicking you until you tumble to the ground. You cough out a trickle of blood onto the ground.

After every hit, the men attempt to interrogate you. 

“Are there any more hiding like you?”

“Where are the others?”

Every inquiry thrown at you encounters a stubborn wall of silence. You will never betray the other Fremen. Though the prospect doesn’t thrill you, you’d much rather die. In fact, you’ve already embraced your inevitable fate. This is where your story ends.

You console yourself with one fact. 

That at least you won’t leave this world a traitor.

It takes three men to restrain you long enough to tie you up. You only let go of your crysknife when one of the bald-headed warriors stomps over your hand with his boot, snapping your wrist bone and forcing your palm open. An ear-splitting scream rips from your throat. Still, you do not cry, refusing to waste your body moisture for these monsters.

You’re forced on your knees, hogtied while your broken wrist throbs against your back. The corpses of the men you slaughtered are dragged away.

Voices from outside grow louder as you hear the echo of steps fastly approaching. 

“There is only one spy left behind. We couldn’t find the others,” one of the men says. 

A gravelly voice, like the scraping of a rock against a hard surface, lands in your ears. 

“They have gone south to hide in the storms,” it says.

Your pulse escalates, your gaze lifting slowly. There is something different about the newcomer. He’s tall, athletic, with delicate, aristocratic features that are unusual amongst the Harkonnen. An aura of authority hangs around him, every soldier’s stance stiffening as he enters the cave.

He must be the one in charge, you realize.

Someone hands him your crysknife. A tide of anger mounts within you at the sight. If you were free, you’d plunge it in his neck. 

He gauges the blade attentively, his fingertips caressing the bloodied edge.

“Send this message to my uncle,” the newcomer says. “The North is tamed and secured. Harvest spice at will.”

“Yes, na-Baron,” a man near him replies before taking his leave.

Na-Baron. You frown. So it is him. 

He takes sluggish, lithe steps towards you, the corner of his lips twisting upwards.

Your muscles coil, cold tendrils of dread clutching your insides. 

Even on the battlefield, as your life hung in the balance, you didn’t feel this creeping sense of imminent danger. 

The primal, gut-deep inkling that you should run…and never look back. 

“You killed six of my men with a single blade,” he says, a mix of surprise and admiration laced in his raspy baritone. 

“She won’t talk,” the man behind him says. “We even broke her hand but she still won’t say a word.”

He cocks his head, his tone bone-chilling as he casually states, “Tell her that’s fine. I already know everything I need to know.” A man near him hands him a flame thrower. You take a deep breath. You’ve witnessed Harkonnen soldiers use them to set ablaze corpses and catch runaway Fremen, burning them alive. There isn’t a hint of emotion  in the na-Baron’s voice as he points the flame thrower at you. “Only pleasure remains.”

You lift your chin. If death you must meet, you will do it with dignity.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” you reply calmly, a wide smile spreading onto your lips. 

The na-Baron’s eyes bulge and narrow, his hands dropping.

He strides forward.

“What did you just say?”

“Just get on with it, will you?” You unleash a frustrated sigh. Shouldn’t you be a charred heap of smoking flesh and bones already? What is this na-Baron wasting time for? You are resigned to it now, having used the time before to accept your fate. “I’m eager to meet my ancestors and be freed of your foul Harkonnen stench,” you taunt, hoping your insolent tongue will hasten things along. 

You wait and wait, your defiant gaze never wavering. 

But the deathly flames that should lick the flesh clean off your bones never come.

Instead, the na-Baron tosses the flame thrower on the ground and barks an order to one of his subordinates.

“Take her back to my chambers in our base.”

The man casts you a disdainful glare.

“But na-Baron. That woman is danger-” A swift slash across the man’s throat from the na-Baron’s blade has the man choking on his words. Blood fills his mouth, his body twitching as it sprawls across the ground. 

He doesn’t spare the dying man another glance, his head slanting.

He leers at you, exerting no effort to disguise the lewd intent etched in his dark gaze. 

“And make sure to tell my darlings she’s not for them to have…but for me to feast upon later.”

Fear floods your veins. You readied yourself for death, not for…whatever the Harkonnen warrior has in store for you. 

“Yes, na-Baron.”

You’re hauled off the floor. When you refuse to move, one of the Harkonnen soldiers twists your broken limb to get you to lurch forward. You clench your teeth and blink back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You will not cry. You will not give them the satisfaction.

Tears are sacred. They are to honor the dead and nothing else.

Before you’re carried away, the na-Baron approaches you and frames your jaw.

“I hear Fremen do not cry, never squander their water under any circumstance. I wonder…” A sadistic smile unfurls on his pale lips, baring a glimpse of inky black teeth beneath. His thumb sweeps across your tightly pressed lips. “What will it take for you to shed a tear for me, pet?”

You shiver in the ropes as you watch the three Harkonnen women tear bloody ribbons in the male Fedaykin’s flesh with their claw-sharp black nails. The delighted purrs they emit while feasting on human flesh bounce off the black, sterile walls of the palatial chambers.

Your gaze is wide, horrified.

You’ve seen death. You’ve seen violence. But you’ve never laid eyes on such a ghoulish spectacle before. The na-Baron’s cannibalistic mates picking the meat off the man’s bones and digging their hands inside his gut. As if he were nothing but a heap of fresh meat to sate their hunger. 

You want to peel your gaze away… but you can’t. 

You’re paralyzed.

His lifeless blue eyes, a sinister mirror of your own due to the spice melange, send prickles through your spine. 

This could have easily been you. And it would have been…weren’t it for the na-Baron’s whim changing course as swiftly as a weather vane. Just like the apparel must yield to the fickle will of the winds, you must surrender to his.

When the women are done, one of them flashes you a broad smile. Shredded pieces of organs stick to her teeth and blood covers the bottom of her face, dripping down her chin.

A shudder ripples through your spine.

Their inky, whiteless stares settle on you. They discard the mangled corpse and inch closer to you. You retreat against the wall, fear gripping your throat. Ravenous expressions light up their pretty faces. 

You swallow through your aching, parched throat. Are you next? Will they do to you what they did to that poor man? 

They whisper in Harkonnen. The confusion about the words pouring from their tongues stokes the terror consuming you. 

Then they laugh. Strident, bloodcurdling, wicked laughs. You remain still, willing your heart not to beat so loudly. 

Dying on the battlefield is one thing. Being eaten alive is another, wildly different thing. The kind of needlessly cruel death you never envisioned for yourself. 

Despite the distress tossing your senses into chaos, you force yourself not to cry. No tears, you remind yourself. Not for them. Never for them.

One of them snaps her teeth in your face. Your lip quivers as blood drains from your head. Your reaction draws another round of laughter from them.

They tease you for a while, their threats disturbingly clear despite not understanding a lick of their coarse native tongue.

It’s in their hunched, predatory stance, the hunger twisting their pretty features. They could pounce on you at any time, rip you to shreds and you’d be powerless to stop them.

Their vicious taunting is still in progress when the na-Baron storms into his chambers. His arrival does nothing to alleviate your worries. 

A fond smile ghosts over his lips as he soaks the scene before him.

“I see you’ve met my darlings.” The women coo as he approaches them. He lovingly cradles each of their faces, planting deep, passionate kisses on their lips. The sickening display by your fellow Fedaykin’s slain form a few feet away makes your stomach wrench. “Darlings, meet my new pet.”

“I’m not a pet,” you snarl.

The women hiss at you in concert, sounding like snakes ready to strike. You flinch backwards. 

He cocks his head. 

“You are whatever I say you are.” He glides towards you slowly. Once he’s in front of you, he taps the booted tip of his foot into your bruised knee. His gravelly baritone scratches along your eardrums. “Kiss my feet. I’m your master now.”

You squint at him. 

“Fuck you.”

His plump mouth quirks lopsidedly. He then kicks you in the gut without ceremony. The searing pain knocks the breath from your lungs. You keel over, groaning against the tiles. 

He hunkers down and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your head backwards. The sting in your scalp has you blink back tears before they can spill. 

“In time, pretty little pet.”

Steps echo from afar. A man enters the room. The na-Baron’s authoritative timbre whips across the stiff, sweltering air of the room.  

“Did you bring what I asked?”

“Yes, na-Baron,” the man replies swiftly. From the corner of your sight, you get a glimpse of metal. Panic sings inside your veins.

As your pulse soars, you’re shocked when the ropes around your frame come loose through a few nimble slashes of a knife. 

You jump to your feet.

Your shocked gaze locks with his. Amusement decorates his features. 

Layer after layer, he removes pieces of his armor. Until his carved alabaster, muscles are exposed to you, leaving him in little more than a thin strip of fabric hanging precariously over his tapered waist. 

A second long, curved blade is tossed at your feet.

Your eyes bounce from the weapon to him. Utter confusion wars with fright within you. 

When the guards begin to draw their weapons, he barks at them, “Don’t.” They place their weapons back in their sheaths. He opens his arms, the blade in his hand glinting in the dull light of the room. “Go on. This is your chance.”

You gawk at him. Is he truly baiting you to attack him? Does his life mean nothing to him? Is he a madman?

Your brows crumple. With every second, your confusion grows. 

He approaches you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins. You rush to pick up the knife with your unbroken hand and point it at him. 

There isn’t an ounce of fear in his eyes as he inches closer, the blade grazing his bulging pec.

“Do it,” he challenges, a clear taunt in his haughty inflection.

Your mouth trembles. What do you stand to lose? You will never see Sietch Tabr or your brother again. You’re a war prisoner. You might as well be dead. You should be dead. In another life, you would already be.

You suck in a sharp breath. You move as quickly as your feet and dwindling strength allow. He matches each of your brutal, clumsy blows. You go for his head and he dodges with ease, grabbing your broken wrist, causing you to stumble. Your breath falters, throbbing pain exploding in your limb. Grinding your teeth, you whirl and deal another series of strikes. He parries each of them, a delighted expression etched on his slender features. Anger glows within you. He’s enjoying this. While you’re in agony, he finds pleasure in every brush with death.

You graze his cheek, leaving a long cut across his flesh. A demented, black grin breaks out on his face. The fight continues for a few more minutes, the clash of metal and his feral roars swelling in the room. 

It ends with him tackling you to the ground as he slams your wrists besides your head. The knife slips out of your grasp. You hold your breath, helplessness filling you as his muscular frame drapes over yours.

His lips skim against your temple. 

“You fought well, sweet pet. Better than most,” he whispers. You shudder when his cool tongue drags over your cheek. “But it’s time I claim my prize.”

Ice ripples through your blood. You struggle beneath him as he rips your stillsuit from your body. Every effort to fight against him is for naught. Soon, your bruised and battered form is completely bare to him. 

He drinks you in as your chest lifts and sags, lust sparkling in his dark gaze. He wrestles a collar around your neck and a ring-shaped gag on your mouth. The contraption forcing your lips apart makes you feel even more trapped than before. He tugs off the cloth covering him, revealing his massive erection, the pale tip already glistening with his arousal.

He hoists you up until you’re on your knees. His fist tangles in your hair, wrenching your neck backwards. Muffled moans of protest fly from your throat.

“I never wondered what a desert rat’s mouth felt like before. But now…” He pumps himself, his tongue darting out to sweep over his bottom lip. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

He slips his tip between your lips, nudging you closer when you try to turn your head. That mere contact has him purring in delight. You push against his thighs, desperation swelling as your palms meet unflinching bands of thick, corded muscles. Even the tip of him feels like too much, the corners of your mouth bursting at the pressure. You groan, completely helpless as he pushes more of himself in your mouth. 

He cradles your face, his grip firmer than before, and plants his feet in the ground. You gag on his length as he finds the back of your throat, the salty taste of his skin filling your mouth. Shame wells up inside you. Tears burn the back of your eyes as you choke on his size. 

Nearby, the cannibalistic women laugh at your torment, sharing words in Harkonnen you don’t understand. 

The na-Baron snickers, making you jolt as he shoves inside you to the hilt. The corners of your mouth ache, both from the device and his thick girth. 

“Yes. She does take me gloriously, doesn’t she?" He smirks. "Like a true warrior.”

Hatred burns in your eyes as you glare up at him. He seems to bask in the sight, moaning in pleasure as he starts thrusting inside your mouth. 

You’re left with no choice but to take his merciless assault. His eyes roll back as he bruises your throat and steals your breath. Stilted whimpers roll off your tongue.

Your eyes sting. You try your hardest to swallow every tear and sob, but as time goes on…your pride crumbles. In its stead, only despair remains. 

Tears swell in your eyes and make a slow descent down your cheeks. 

“Ah, there it is,” he rasps, collecting the droplets with his thumbs. 

As he brings one to his tongue, humming at the taste, you feel him grow harder on your tongue. 

The pit of your stomach sizzles. With humiliation. With defeat. 

Throaty moans pour from his chest, his head tossing back as he pounds harder into your mouth. 

Your body goes limp, his hands the only thing keeping you on your knees. Your vision blurs as you become nothing but a toy for the na-Baron, a vessel for his brutality. A tool to satisfy his basest needs.

“Perhaps, we shall keep that one. What do you think, darlings?” The women’s excited squeals land in your ears. He caresses your damp cheeks. “And if she ever bores us, well…” He licks his lips, a wide grin unfanning on his face. “We’ll make sure no part of her goes to waste.”

[elryuse]

i came here from wattpad 🙌🙌 i love your writings, idk if you're still accepting request but if you are , i would like to request a drunk winter x male reader fluff, just a short one will do. just a spark from watching a lot of drunk scenes from kdramas, like the one in my demon lol. im sorry if this is a burden but cant wait to hear from you soon!

Drunk Call

Winter X Make Reader

Fluffy fluff fluff

Exhaustion gnawed at my bones, a familiar ache that had become a constant companion these past few weeks. Practice sessions for our upcoming comeback were brutal, the pressure to deliver another hit song gnawing at my confidence. To top it all off, a nasty rumor about me had surfaced online, and the hateful comments felt like a punch to the gut.

Curled up on the dorm couch, I scrolled through the endless stream of negativity, tears blurring my vision. Frustration bubbled over, a silent scream trapped in my throat. "This is stupid," I mumbled, shoving my phone onto the coffee table.

Loneliness, a suffocating weight, settled in my chest. I craved a familiar voice, someone who wouldn't judge, someone who knew the real Winter, not the one fabricated for the cameras. With a sigh, I reached for my phone, my finger hovering over your name. You were more than just my manager; you were my rock, my confidante, the one person who saw through the facade.

Hitting call, I waited with bated breath, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The first ring felt like an eternity, the second a cruel joke. Just as I was about to give up, your voice, warm and soothing, filled the silence.

"Hey Winter, everything alright?" Your voice, laced with concern, sent a wave of relief washing over me. "Y/n," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. The dam broke then, the frustration, the loneliness, spilling out in a torrent of words. I ranted about the comeback, the rumors, the relentless pressure, the tears blurring my vision all the while.

You listened patiently, your voice a calming balm on my raging emotions. You didn't offer empty platitudes or dismiss my feelings. Instead, you encouraged me to vent, to let it all out. By the time I finished, my voice hoarse and tears drying on my cheeks, a comfortable silence settled between us.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," you said finally, your voice firm but laced with tenderness. The promise sent a warmth blooming in my chest. Just knowing you were on your way chased away the suffocating loneliness.

Twenty minutes later, the soft knock on the door had me scrambling to my feet. Wiping away any lingering tears, I opened the door to find you standing there, a concerned frown creasing your forehead. The sight of you, your worried gaze softening at the sight of me, was a balm to my soul.

"Hey," you said gently, your hand reaching out to cup my cheek. The touch, warm and familiar, grounded me. Without a word, I stepped aside, ushering you into the dorm room.

The state of the room must have been a giveaway. The empty soju bottles on the coffee table, the discarded tissues, and the general air of disarray spoke volumes. You cast a quick glance at the empty bottles, a knowing look in your eyes. "Rough night, huh?" you asked softly.

I nodded, unable to meet your gaze. Shame washed over me, a childish need to apologize for my weakness. But before I could voice my insecurities, you pulled me into a hug. Your embrace was a safe haven, the familiar scent of your cologne a soothing comfort.

"It's okay to not be okay, Winter," you murmured against my hair. "You don't have to be strong all the time." Those words, simple yet profound, shattered the dam of my remaining defenses. Tears welled up again, hot and silent, as I clung to you.

You held me close, whispering words of comfort until my sobs subsided into sniffles. When I finally pulled away, you brushed a stray tear from my cheek, your thumb gently wiping away the moisture. "How about we forget about practice tomorrow?" You suggested, yoir voice laced with concern.

My eyes widened in surprise. "But the comeback…" I began to protest, but you cut me off with a gentle smile. "The comeback can wait," you said firmly. "Right now, you need rest."

There was no arguing with the determined glint in your eyes. With a sigh of surrender, I nodded. You helped me change into my pajamas, the simple act of putting on comfy clothes a small comfort in itself.

Tucking me into bed, you fluffed the pillows and adjusted the covers with a meticulousness that made me smile. "Get some sleep, Winter," you whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on my forehead. "I'll be here in the morning."

As I drifted off to sleep, the weight on my chest had lifted considerably. The knowledge that I wasn't alone, that you were there to catch me when I fell, filled me with a warmth that chased away the lingering shadows of The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting the room in soft stripes of gold. A gentle ache in my head and a dry throat were the only reminders of the previous night's emotional rollercoaster. Yawning, I stretched luxuriously in bed, a small smile playing on my lips.

The faint smell of coffee and something warm and savory drifted towards me. Sitting up, I found a tray on the bedside table laden with a bowl of steaming porridge, a glass of water, and a small cup of coffee with a cartoon bear latte art. My heart warmed.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you said from the doorway, a playful smile on your face. You looked a little sleep-deprived yourself, dark circles under your eyes, but a tenderness lingered in your gaze.

"You didn't have to stay the night," I said, touched by your gesture.

"Well, how could I leave you here alone after last night?" you countered, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, who else would make sure the most important member of AESPA gets a decent breakfast?

I blushed, unable to deny the truth in your words. You carefully helped me sit up, placing pillows behind my back as I took a sip of the warm porridge. The coffee, creamy and sweet, hit the spot just right.

"Feeling better?" you asked, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

"A lot better, thanks to you," I mumbled, stealing a glance at you. The concern in your eyes morphed into something softer, making my cheeks flush again.

"Don't worry about practice today," you reassured me. "We already informed the others you're taking a break." Relief washed over me. The thought of facing the dance studio right now was daunting.

"So, what do you want to do today?" you asked, your voice gentle. I thought for a moment. The idea of staying cooped up in the dorm room wasn't appealing.

"Maybe we could take a walk in the park?" I suggested. "Just the two of us, away from everything".

Your smile widened, genuine and bright. "Sounds like a perfect plan, Winter."

The park was a welcome change of scenery. The crisp autumn air invigorated my senses, and the vibrant foliage painted the landscape in hues of gold and crimson. Walking hand-in-hand with you, the tension from the past few weeks seemed to melt away.

We talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and dreams, laughing at silly jokes. You even indulged my sudden craving for street tteokbokki, the spicy rice cakes adding a delicious warmth to the cool air.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows on the park's path, we found ourselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small lake. The tranquility of the scene mirrored the newfound peace within me.

"Thank you, Y/n," I said, leaning against your shoulder.

"For what?" you asked, your voice soft.

"For everything," I replied, my voice thick with emotion. "For being there when I needed you most, for believing in me, for being my rock."

You turned to face me, your gaze filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Winter," you murmured, your voice husky, "you are strong, talented, and beautiful. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise."

And then, before I could respond, you leaned in, your lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both soft and passionate. It was a kiss filled with the unspoken words of our affection, a promise of a love that transcended the boundaries of fan and manager, idol and boyfriend.

As we pulled apart, breathless and smiling, I knew that no matter what challenges awaited me, I wouldn't face them alone. I had you by my side, my confidant, my best friend, and most importantly, my love.

The End

[gothgengargirl]

The Works

You came to the new salon mostly on a whim. It was a Sunday, so it’s not like you had anything special in mind for the next day. Just work. Boring, dreary, work. But you thought that feeling pretty might help the work week go a little more smoothly. Give your colleagues something else to talk about besides meetings and progress updates. You wanted to feel seen for once.

For such a nice place, it was a pleasant surprise that you were able to get a walk-in appointment. Fern’s Grove, it was called. Cute name. The ceilings were high, and the place felt remarkably open and airy for being just another building in a strip mall. A fountain bubbled away cheerfully, a variety of exotic plants growing alongside it. The air was even perfumed, floral and berry-like, but in a way you couldn’t quite place. And the woman at the counter, who set your bag in a drawer and got you settled into a astonishingly comfortable chair, was gorgeous. Everyone who worked here was gorgeous. If this was how they took care of themselves, you felt like you were in good hands.

Your cosmetologist came up to you just as you were getting settled. She was just as beautiful as everyone else, maybe more so, with her dramatic cat eye makeup, purple hair and generous curves. She handed you a laminated list of your options, and you could hear her whistling cheerfully in the background as she got her instruments together and you looked over your choices. Hair cut, hair color, hair extensions. Face wash, moisturizing treatments, full makeup. Permanent makeup? That sounded intriguing. Manicure, pedicure, they even offered waxing services (presumably those were in another room). And one thing at the bottom stuck out to you, drawing your attention like a light in the darkness.

The Works.

“I’ll take The Works, please,” you said, almost instinctively. You wanted to see what this place could do.

“Sure about that, doll?” Her voice was sweet like honey, with an edge of something in it. Condescension? Anticipation? Both?

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, then, The Works, coming right up. Lift your arms.”

You did so instinctively. You were always good at following directions. And you thought you knew what was going to happen. She would put an apron on you to protect your clothes, you would talk about what cut and color you wanted for the hair, maybe get your shoes off and your feet soaking for the pedicure.

That’s not what happened.

Cables descended from that high, airy ceiling, and wrapped themselves around your wrists. You tried, briefly, to pull away, but you were held in place. Like a puppet on her strings. Clamps emerged from the chair to do the same to your ankles. You were stuck.

A momentary wave of panic was replaced by a curious fear, as you could feel something seeping from your new restraints. Soaking into the skin of your wrists and ankles. It felt GOOD. Like you were being polished from the inside, like all of the tension in your body was replaced with pleasure. And as you sank back briefly, She placed something over your head. A visor. You tried to close your eyes, but the flashing colors shone through your eyelids, and you opened them out of curiosity. And once they were open, you never wanted to close them again.

At first the messages were simply soothing. Telling you to relax, to sink, to accept all of the new feelings in your body. And there were new feelings. You couldn’t see anything but the swirling colors, couldn’t hear anything but the whispered suggestions from that set of headphones that must have come on just after the visor. But you felt good. Hands nimbly massaged your scalp. The waves of whatever it was from your restraints spread all the way through your arms and legs, making them feel limp and loose and silky smooth and perfectly plastic.

Plastic?

Perfect. Plastic. Puppet.

Pretty. Programmed. Plaything.

This was what the suggestions in your head were saying now. And you kind of liked the sound of it. On some level, you knew that you had work in the morning. You were a Busy Woman With Important Things To Do. But you always hated it. There was another way now? And at least for this afternoon, you could enjoy being a

Perfect

Pretty

Plaything

...

Time passed. You couldn’t tell how long. Minutes? Hours? Days? Time felt less and less meaningful, paying attention to the sensations running through your body. It was almost like an orgasm, but orgasms came and went much faster than this. This was a slow build, leading to a great flowing tide of ecstasy. You didn’t want it to stop. You never wanted to stop being a programmed plastic puppet.

But then, as suddenly as it started, it ended. The visor and the headphones were pulled off. The restraints at your arms and legs snapped open, your arms dropping into your lap. Your hands moved automatically, one of them grasping a breast, the other rubbing at your crotch shamelessly.

As your eyes focused again, you were amazed with what you saw in the mirror. She… you… was different. Your clothes didn’t fit the same way—blouse swollen and buttons open, skirt disheveled and riding up over thicker thighs. Your mouth was hanging open, lips larger than they were before, and your tongue was hanging out. It was pierced! A blue gemstone sitting in your pretty pink mouth, its color matching your new long nails, your thick eye shadow. Your gleaming metallic hair. And the place on your neck that didn’t even look like flesh anymore. It was seemingly embedded in your skin, blue circuits tracing out from a thick black band.

A Collar.

You didn’t even look human anymore, did you? You looked like…

A Doll.

“What do you think, hun?” said the voice behind you. The voice you now instinctively knew as Owner.

“I don’t think. I just obey.” Automatic.

“Good girl. Stop touching yourself.”

You did, immediately. Arms limp at your sides. Awaiting further instructions.

“What are you?”

“I’m just a doll. An empty-headed plaything.”

“Excellent! And what do you want me to do next?”

“Please…” these words felt like they were escaping from your soul. They were your soul. All you had left was this one thought.

“Please play with me”.

You saw Owner’s luscious mouth open into a wide toothy grin as you said that, watching her and you in the mirror. And then you didn’t think anything else. Not for a long while. Dolls don’t think, they just obey.

Good Doll.

[skelletonscloset]

simon x sick!reader

wc— 973

cw— sick fic!! reader is gender neutral. emetophobia warning!! > mention of throwing up. simon being a good boyfriend.

a/n— this is my first official addition to this page!! i’m still getting used to this whole “writing and posting” thing, so i’d love feedback and constructive criticism :3 enjoy!!

your body felt hot. the weight of your sheets on top of you was all you could feel aside from the way your eyes felt glued shut and how your clothes stuck uncomfortably to your back.

the past few days you knew you were starting to catch something, a few sneezes there and a small headache there — but you’d never guess you’d start to feel this bad.

now, it’s not like you were running to the bathroom and hurling the remains of your dinner from the past night into the toilet bowl, no. however, you did feel like the inside of your throat was being clawed at by a very angry cat and your mouth was dry from not being able to breathe clearly from your nose.

forcing your eyes open, you groan as you stir from your warm and slightly damp spot of the bed, your eyes adjusting to your dark room. you lick your lips, attempting to bring back some moisture, but they dried up again almost immediately.

“ugh… si?” you groan, looking to his side of the bed where he was. well, where he would be. you blinked your eyes, lifting your hand and placing it in his spot and feeling the warmth of his body that was left behind. huh.

you peered at the alarm clock on your nightstand. 2:41 am.

“si?” you weakly called out again, your nasally voice ringing throughout your shared bedroom. a few moments pass before you hear the heavy padding of feet approaching, a muscular forearm gently nudging the door open.

simon’s dark silhouette walked in, a mug of something in hand and a thermometer in the other. he shuffled closer, setting the mug down on the nightstand and turning on the small lamp next to the edge.

the lamp illuminated his dark eyes, which shifted from the thermometer’s buttons to you after turning it on. his short, blond locks were tousled from sleep, scratching the scruff on his jaw.

“woke up a couple minutes ago. felt ya’ start to get hot,” he grunted, holding the thermometer up to your forehead as he took your temperature. after the beep, he squinted, reading back your temperature in his gruff voice.

“99.8” he stated, setting the thermometer down and sitting on the edge of the bed, rugged body slightly facing you as one leg folded onto the sheets and the other hung off the bed.

“nothing too bad, yet.”

coaxing you to sit up, he carefully brings the cup of tea towards you, pausing when your hands don’t come up to take it. he looks up at you, watching you eye the steaming cup suspiciously. he sighs

“yes, it has enough honey.” he clarifies, watching your expression relax. he held his hand beneath yours as you took hold of the mug, softly blowing on it before you took a sip.

you hummed in satisfaction, affirming his words. “thank you, si,” you murmured, “but aren’t you going to get sick too?”

“don’t worry about that, lovie. focus on you gettin’ better,” his voice rumbled. you took a few more sips of the tea, soothing your throat little by little, before deciding you were too sweaty to finish it.

you handed the mug to him before coughing into your elbow, trying to clear out the feeling of glass in your throat but failing.

“i’m so sweaty…” you groan, watching as simon automatically puts the mug down and gets up, moving to the closet as he looks for something lighter for you to wear.

he’s back within a few seconds, one of his large t-shirts in hand and a pair of sleep shorts just in case.

“up,” he nudges your arms, helping you take off your long sleeve shirt which was slightly cold with your sweat. tossing it to the side, he rolled up the other shirt, gingerly slipping the sleeves down your arms as his shirt draped across your form.

“shorts?” he asked, noting how you already weren’t wearing pants, opting to sleep in your underwear instead. when you shook your head, he walked to the closet once more, putting the shorts away and your shirt in the hamper.

“thank you, si,” you whispered tiredly.

“none of that. need anything else? some water?”

“yes, please”

he walked out of the room.

you wondered how you ended up with such a caring man as your boyfriend. he’s practically a mind reader at this point. you looked down, eyeing the shirt he picked out for you. it was an old shirt of his, one he used to wear frequently before he became a part of your life.

the shirt was a dark gray, small holes between the seams of the sleeves. it was your favorite one, hence how worn out it was. you took the soft fabric in your hands, bringing it up to smell the familiar scent.

simon walks back into the room with a fresh glass of water, noticing you. he gently tuts to himself, setting the glass next to the mug he had forgotten to take to the kitchen with him.

he plopped back into your shared bed, your body falling towards him as the bed shifted from his weight. settling the sheets over his lower half, he handed you the glass of water, waiting patiently for you to be finished. when you were, he set the glass back down, the two of you getting comfortable once more.

he subconsciously brought you towards him as you lied back down, his strong arm pulling you into his broad, clothed chest. you sighed again, breathing him in as you tried to forget about the oncoming congestion you felt. your hand settled on his waist, your legs entangled with his.

“i love you, simon.” you exhaled, closing your eyes once more.

“love you too, sweetheart,” he grumbled into your hair.

maybe getting sick wasn’t gonna be so bad after all.

~🧸

[magickkate]

🤍a simple personal cleansing spell 🤍🎧

Feeling a bit weighed down by negative vibes lately? It's time to treat yourself to a personal cleansing spell that'll leave you feeling refreshed and renewed from the inside out. Here's a gentle ritual to get you started:

🌸 Set the Scene: Find a quiet, peaceful space where you can be alone with your thoughts. Light a candle or some incense to create a soothing atmosphere. Take a few deep breaths to center yourself and let go of any tension.

🔮 Connect with Your Intentions: Close your eyes and focus on what you want to release from your life—whether it's stress, self-doubt, or anything else holding you back. Visualize these negative energies as dark clouds surrounding you.

✨ Embrace the Power of Water: Fill a bowl with warm water and add a handful of sea salt or a few drops of your favorite cleansing essential oil. This mixture symbolizes purification and renewal.

🌊 Cleanse Away Negativity: Dip your fingertips into the water and gently splash it over your face, allowing the purifying energy to wash away any negativity or stagnant energy. As you do this, repeat a simple affirmation like, "I release what no longer serves me and welcome in positivity and light."

🌿 Ground and Reconnect: After cleansing, take a moment to ground yourself by placing your hands on the earth or simply feeling the support of the ground beneath you. Visualize roots growing from your feet, anchoring you firmly to the earth's energy.

❤️ Seal in Positivity: Finish your ritual by anointing yourself with a few drops of cleansing oil or moisturizer, focusing on areas like your wrists, temples, and heart. As you do this, affirm your commitment to self-love and inner peace.

💫 Express Gratitude: Take a moment to thank yourself for taking the time to nurture your mind, body, and spirit. Feel gratitude for the cleansing energy that now surrounds you.

Remember, personal cleansing spells are all about honoring your own journey and intuition. Trust yourself and let the magic flow! 💖🔮

[chlorinecake]

convenient chances lll

PAIRING: yandere!stalker!enhypen x fem!reader

CW: violence, paranoia/anxiety, foul language, kidnapping, kissing, mentions of hunger and torture, reader just gets treated like a toy basically

WC: 5k — read part l and part ll here

YOUR BODY WAS still going through the effects of last nights torture fest in Jay’s classroom.

You knew your ex-boyfriend was crazy, but you had no idea he'd go to such lengths to get you in line, all for the sake of chasing this love he couldn't resist.

His deadliest fantasy.

Jay woke up some time ahead of you to prepare breakfast for you both. You’re not sure if this was his way of making things up to you after last night’s events, mostly because what you went through didn’t seem to bother his conscious in the slightest.

You’d bet your well-being was only partially a concern to him, especially on the matter of “corrective discipline.”

Taking a moment to recollect your emotions, you got up out of bed, just now realizing the silk and lavender nightgown you wore to bed for the night.

Oh, Jay, the man you aspire to be.

From the looks of it, Jay hadn’t made any changes to his bedroom since the last time you saw it before running away from him.

There was something about the familiarity of the space that soothed your nerves. And so, you held onto that sliver of tranquility, walking into his bathroom before closing the door behind you.

There was a fresh toothbrush sitting in a glass cup on the bathroom counter. Beside it was a feminine all purpose skin wash and expensive moisturizer, both in the scent of “Captured,” which had notes of white grape and peach.

What a pleasant pair for such a confining name, you thought to yourself.

While brushing your teeth, you looked at your reflection in the mirror, thinking of what you were gonna do with your hair for the day.

Hmm…. Nevermind.

You decided to just wash your face instead, as your current case of bed-head wouldn’t gain much improvement using Jay’s close-tooth comb and near empty container of pomade.

Pump, pump.

The shimmery peach soap filled the center of your palm before you lathered it all over your face.

Splash.

The faucet water was cold, and you expected it to be somewhat refreshing, but the wetness only made your face feel as though it stung all over. With that, the memory of your muggy eyeliner clouding your vision resurfaced in the back of your mind.

You remembered similar stings, like the ones you get in your wrists and feet and Jay’s goons held you down.

The sting of Heeseung’s weight straddling your hips as he poured bucket after bucket of water onto your face, taunting you as if you deserved every last drop.

Squeak.

You turned off the faucet, reaching for the face towel that hung on the nearby wall rack. Twisting the bathroom door handle, you busied yourself with making up the bed and fluffing the pillows as a way to draw your mind to simpler thoughts.

Thoughts of fabric, and cotton, and loose threads.

“Good morning, my love,” Jay smiled softly, startling you as you approached you from behind, planting the lightest kiss on your exposed shoulder. He then inched up to your neck, leaving feathery pecks of affection on your skin before speaking again, “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” you answered plainly, wincing a bit from his persistent actions.

In his own sick way, you knew Jay was only trying to make you feel loved, but your neck was still tender from Heeseung’s idea of using it as a chew toy last night.

That fucking dog—

“Is everything alright?” Jay asked in a concerned tone, turning you to face him as you responded by covering the marks on your neck.

He walked up to the thick velvet curtains that clothed the windows of his bedroom, sliding them open to reveal the sunshine you didn’t even know was visible from here.

“Come here,” he said, moving your hand away to reveal the dark purple bruise, splattered upon your skin like paint. He muttered something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch, but from the look on his face, he didn’t seem very happy anymore.

“Which one of them did this to you?” He asked, sitting you on the bed you’d just made.

“Like you actually care—”

“Don’t play smart with me, ____. Answer my question.”

“I don’t see why you can’t just ask your little minions for the details. They seemed more than glad to watch it happen, anyways.”

“____,” he went on with a weak voice, “it’d be a lot simpler if you just answered for me like I asked. This sort of thing is not okay.”

Yeah, your entire life for the past few months has not been okay. All thanks to him and his stupid friends.

“I just really don’t wanna talk about that right now, Jay,” you raised your voice slightly, hoping that your anger would scare off the feeling of nausea that brewed in your stomach.

Jay looked down into his lap before meeting your eyes again and taking your right hand in his, pressing a kiss to your skin.

“Very well, then,” he smiled, getting up from the bed and motioning for you to meet him at the door, “I expect to see you downstairs in the next thirty seconds,” he said, not even bothering to close the door.

There goes his cold side again, you thought to yourself, following after him. It almost humored you that he gave you a time limit as if testing your obedience to him, even though he knew you’d come running.

All the way downstairs and into his kitchen, where a small round glass table sat in the middle of the dining space.

You took a seat before noticing the already prepared napkins, utensils, and champagne glasses that were filled with orange juice, meticulously arranged.

Jay washed his hands in the sink before walking over to the counter, fixing a plate of French toast, fruit, and an omelet of some sort before bringing it over to you, gently placing the dish on the table.

Walking off, he grabbed himself a cup of black coffee and joined the seat in front of you, a look displayed upon his face that you couldn’t quite read.

“What’s all this?” You asked, staring at the food as if it started talking to you before taking hold of the fork, poking at the plate.

“Is that a trick question?” Jay chuckled, sipping from his mug.

“Why aren’t you eating anything,” you went on, but he only ignored your question, taking another sip of his coffee.

“It delighted me to see you making the bed this morning. I’m surprised you still remembered the way I like it.”

Blech, you thought to yourself, making a mental note that you definitely wouldn’t be making the bed anymore from now on. And the way he got so giddy about it-

Clink.

You placed your fork on the table and crossed your arms, “I’m not eating all this, Jay.”

His grip on the mug tightened at your words, “Are you suddenly allergic to kind gestures or something?” Jay tried, stifling an annoyed scoff.

“No, but I’m allergic to trusting you,” you said, bringing to mind an old memory of when he tried to drug you when you first started dating. All you remember was that you got into a silly argument, ate something that he made, and couldn’t walk or see clearly for half a day.

"I just thought you might've wanted the fuel for today, love. But as it turns out, you're still the same ungrateful little bitch you've always been..."

“And you want me to think those kinds of words come from the mouth of loving man?…”

“I made you breakfast which you rudely rejected and I haven’t punched the shit out of you yet. Yeah, sounds like a VERY loving man to me.”

“Fine. I appreciate the breakfast, Jay, but I’m simply not in the mood to eat right now,” you said, pushing your chair from the table, “Better?”

“No,” he retorted, getting up too, “I’m still pissed that I wasted my time in the kitchen for you this morning.”

“Aww, so now the love of your life is a waste of time?” You pouted facetiously, reaching for a glass of water on the counter before retreating your hand, walking towards the sink instead.

He might’ve poisoned that, too.

“You’re twisting my words, ____,” Jay said in a softened tone for reasons you didn’t understand, taking the same cup of water you walked past before bringing it to his lips, drinking every last drop, “you’re just too stubborn at times...”

He took a few steps closer to you, meeting your frame at the counter while taking in the view of you in your silk nightgown, the water still glistening on his scarred lips.

My beautiful burden, Jay thought to himself.

“What makes you so confident that I didn’t poison the tap, too?” He said with a sultry voice, suddenly taking your lower jaw in his grip.

“Maybe I’m in the mood to die all of a sudden,” you said stupidly, fighting for the last word, though, your tough façade crumbled a bit under his intense gaze.

“Then don’t let me stop you,” he said, taking the glass of tap water you’d just poured and bringing it to your lips, “Drink it… love. I dare you.”

Water had never seemed more daunting than it did now, not even when you were being dry drowned did the sight of liquid frighten you so much.

“This is stupid,” you said through pouty lips as his grip on your face remained firm.

“Oh, so you see that now, right?” He smirked, inching closer to your face, “You always think smarter when my hands are on you,” he said, retreated his grip from your face before tossing the glass on the ground, the sound of its shatter causing you to flinch before him.

God, this was embarrassing.

“Now clean that up,” he hissed, leaving you in the now messy kitchen, “I’ll be waiting for you upstairs to help you get dressed.”

Get dressed? You thought to yourself, for what?

IT SURPRISED YOU when Jay finally revealed what this “big day” he had in mind would entail for you.

Dressed in a fancy pair of heels and skirt-suit, you were at least visually prepared to take on Jay’s idea of a great opportunity.

“I expect you to perform as though you’re on a full stomach,” Jay began as he drove around the neighborhood, “Energetic. Content. Professional.”

“Riiight,” you returned sarcastically, just now putting your seatbelt on, “so why do you want me to work anyways? Don't you bring in enough money on your own?”

“By now, you should know it’s not about that,” Jay said, finally making his way out of the gated community. “This way, I won’t drive myself mad thinking about what you’re up to all day. We’ll wake up, go to work, have lunch, and go back home together for most of the week,” He finished, a small smile creeping up at the corner of his lips.

To him, you getting a job was the first step of his perfect plan to keep you in check.

A few hours had passed, and of course you aced the interview, considering how the company was fully aware of your associations with the CEO's son.

The old you might’ve been proud to date such a popular and successful man, but now, you could hardly argue the same.

Afterwards, Jay told you to wander around and explore the building until his shift ended.

Once Jay finally came back, he greeted you again with another congratulations, taking pride in all the compliments you received on the outfit he picked out.

His little doll, you thought to yourself, all dressed up to act out whatever scenes of make-believe Jay chose to play for the day.

“See, I knew you’d fit in here,” Jay said as he maneuvered the steering wheel, driving off into the distance that continued to grow darker with each minute.

It was getting late, and quickly.

“Well, it helped that I got to finish the interview before my hunger pains started kicking in,” you replied, not even bothering to look at him as you spoke.

“You had an opportunity to eat at home, so I really can't take the fault here, love. Perhaps in some way you deserve to feel the pain,” Jay added, turning down a slightly fogged street lined with old trees at each side.

“Where are we headed?” You asked, ignoring his attempt at making your discomfort out to be a learning lesson.

“Goldman’s,” he said plainly, still maintaining the relaxed tone in his voice, “Think of it as a treat for your good behavior today. You can get whatever you want, since you’ve waited so patiently.”

It took everything in you not to scoff at his choice of words, so you distracted yourself by thinking of how you’d actually been dying to get back to the convenience store.

You didn’t care too much for the idea of Jay potentially turning one of your safe spaces into another bad memory, but you were far too hungry to let that worry you at the moment.

THE ELECTRIC SLIDING doors sounded as you walked beside Jay, arm in arm, taking in the view of the inviting space.

“This place sure looks a lot different from what I’ve seen,” Jay remarked, slowing down his strides to analyze his surroundings.

“That’s because you’ve only seen it from the outside… or perhaps from your smartphone screen while recoding me,” you said, eliciting a chuckle from him that caught you off guard.

It's not that you were surprised by his sociopathic sense of humor, but more so the smile that grew on his face.

The smile you hadn’t seen since the first month of your relationship.

From the looks of it, he was falling even harder for you now that he had you under his complete control.

How sweet.

“Welcome in, ____!" an elderly voice chimed a few feet away from you, "Long time no see..."

“Mandy? Oh my goodness, it’s so good to see you,” you smiled, asking Jay for permission with your eyes before walking over to her, “how’ve you been?”

“Fine as always, sweetheart. But now I see why you haven’t been visiting over the past few days,” she winked, leaning over the register on her elbows, “Now tell me, whats with the new wardrobe?”

“Oh- I had an interview today,” you admitted nervously, feeling your stomach grumble a little, “and before you ask, it went surprisingly well, actually”

“That’s great to hear, missy. And what about your new man-friend? Has he been keepin’ ya busy?” She teased, leaning in closer.

A part of you honestly wished she hadn’t noticed him. Clearing your throat, you could feel Jay’s eyes on you as you felt compelled to answer honestly.

“Uhm… yeah. He’s uh… His name is Jay.”

Mandy quirked up an eyebrow at the name before trying to recover her expression with her previously welcoming smile, “Jay, huh? Sounds like a very sweet boy, to me,” she feigned, suddenly fidgeting with the ring around her finger.

Did she remember? You asked to yourself. All those nights that you came in late for snacks, ranting about the psycho ex-boyfriend you ran away from?

Yes. Of course she did.

Jay finally decided to walk over, meeting you at your side as Mandy continued to speak, avoiding eye contact with him, “Welp, you two youngins know what to do! Let me know if you need anything... I’ll be out back.”

“Thank you,” Jay offered kindly, but the lady only nodded, staying in place despite having said she was going to the store-back.

“Hey, I’m gonna go use the restroom real quick. Pick out something good while I’m gone, too. I’ve been dying to try your favorites,” Jay said, pressing a tender kiss upon the top of your head before walking off to do his business.

“That’s exactly who I think it is, isn’t it?” Mandy began with a whisper, folding her arms in front of herself.

“Yes…” you confessed, a feeling of goosebumps rising to your skin at the realization.

You were slowly relieving the nightmare you escaped all over again.

“Then why are you with him? That guy’s a monster… Do you… Do you need any help? I can… I can call the police!” She continued frantically, already walking towards the storage unit in search for the wall phone.

“Mandy, don’t!” You whisper-yelled, her long white braid swaying with her urgent movements. “You can't get the police involved... It’s for the best... Jay is crazier than I thought, and I can’t risk dragging you into my mess.”

She let your words settle in the air before continuing, “You can’t expect me to let you go on like this, ____. Just act normal, okay? I know what to do.”

“But Mandy-”

“I’ve been in similar shoes before, sweetie. Your shoes may be a little bigger, but thanks to the food I’ve been eating, so am I,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

Or maybe that was just the natural sense of warmth she always exuded.

“Now go on, get to shopping before he comes back and suspects something's up!”

“Okay,” you nodded softly, grabbing a hand basket before walking down the aisles in search of God knows what.

You weren't sure what to expect with Mandy calling the police, but you also weren't sure how much longer you could take of Jay and his antics.

Whoosh.

The heated convenience store air welcomed in the chilling weather from beyond its walls as another hungry costumer entered the space, your back still turned to them as you examined the dessert aisle.

Naturally, you felt the urge to glance at the unknown face, but part of you knew that you might not like who you'd see standing there.

"Hello," a murmuring male voice greeted Mandy, who replied with a likewise salutation.

Ok, now you had to take a peek.

Looking through a gap in the shelves, you saw a tall, hooded person standing before her at the register.

"One moment, please," you heard the older lady say in response to the costumer asking where they can find something.

Mandy made her way to the back of the store in search of whatever the costumer asked for, but still had her initial goal in mind of calling the police.

She typed in the three digits on her wall phone, anxiously waiting for the service line to pick up.

Boop, boop.

She twirled the phone cord around her finger.

Boop, boop, boop-

“You've reached 9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

Mandy let out a yelp that was soon muffled by the mysterious costumer who had followed her to the store-back.

“Oh, never mind that, officer. I took my Grandma to work today and she's just a little disoriented from the meds. Please excuse her behavior.”

“Not a problem sir, just make sure she stays away from the phone from now on. Is there anything else we can help you with tonight?” The operator inquired, oblivious to the way Mandy struggled in the man's vicious grip.

“No ma’am, thank you for your assistance and have a great day.”

“Yup, we're always here to help. Just keep a good eye on your grandmother, too, alright? Stay safe.”

Boop, boop.

Mandy let out a wheezy breath as Sunghoon finally uncovered her mouth, dramatically wiping his hands off on his clothes, "I never understood why you wrinkly hags even bother with putting lipstick on. You're still just as hideous," he said with disgust, watching as the frightened woman fell to her knees, closing her eyes with a now bowed head.

A string of silent prayers poured from her lips, ones that she hadn't felt the need to rehearse in a very long time. The poor lady was overwhelmed with terror, and her only developed response was to pray for protection, which for obvious reasons, humored Sunghoon.

“I hope you got enough “Amen’s” in while you were down there,” he snickered, lifting her up from the ground in his harsh grip.

“How dare you?” Mandy cried with a weakened voice, struggling yet again against his strength, “You will pay for every wrong you've ever committed if you don't unhand me!”

“Would you just shut up already,” Sunghoon complained, opening the back door with his foot for Jungwon and Niki to come in, who quickly went to tie Mandy's hands and feet together with rope, sealing her mouth with a piece of duct tape.

“You’re lucky we haven’t strangled you with this phone cord yet,” Niki threatened, annoyed with the woman's persistence in fighting them off while dodging her feeble attacks.

"Thing's would be so much easier if you just stopped moving for ONE fucking second," Jungwon grunted as he tightened the rope around her feet.

“Alright, this’ll have to do,” Sunghoon said, Niki helping him prop Mandy up against the wall before making their way back to the storage room door, “let’s go.”

Meanwhile, you had successfully managed to get some grocery shopping in before you felt someone harshly grab you by the hair.

“Ahhhhh," you winced in pain, dropping your basket of items on the ground, "J- Jay, what the hell? You said you wouldn’t hurt me anymore,” you cried out, already feeling tears form in your eyes from the sharp sting.

“I've never been called Jay before in my life. But I'll let you guess again, only because I think you're cute," the voice of your offender whispered eerily.

What, you asked to yourself, turning your head to see none other than Heeseung staring back at you with his hungry gaze, his hold on your hair not letting up for one second.

“Didn’t expect to see me, huh? Have you missed my presence?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me, pervert!" You screamed, using your nails to scratch at his arms, though hardly to leave any marks, "Jay! Mandy! Somebody help me! Nngh- Jay!” Your weak pleas seemed to amuse Heeseung as he continued to swing you around like his personal play thing, chuckled at your words.

“What would it take for me to get you to scream my name like that?" he started, pulling your face up to meet his again, "All desperate and trembling for me.”

“Fuck~ let GO!” You cried, tears slightly blurring your vision as you could feel him now guiding you out of the store by the hair.

You couldn't believe this was actually happening.

“Watch your mouth, princess,” Sunghoon suddenly said, opening a bag of chips from the shelf that he didn’t intend on paying for.

The sound of rushed footsteps distracted the two boys for a moment as Jay ran over, having rushed out of the restroom given all the calamity.

“What’s going on over here? Is everything okay," Jay asked in a concerned voice, but you knew he wasn't talking to you.

Heeseung forced your head up to look at Jay, “Just your little toy here forgetting what game we’re playing... What sole purpose she was made for.”

Jay hummed in response, biting his lip as a disappointed look wavered over his features.

“That’s such bullshit! Jay, you were just in here! They’re lying-”

“Take her to the truck.” Jay cut you off, still looking you dead in your watery eyes.

"W-what?" You tried, but he simply ignored you, watching as Sunghoon walked out the store first, with Jungwon and Niki already having left sometime earlier.

You tried not to trip as Heeseung dragged you to the vehicle, finally releasing his grip on your hair before shoving you in the car.

Looking ahead, you saw Sunoo in the driver's seat, Jay soon climbing into the seat beside him followed by Jake appearing out of nowhere.

"This is ridiculous, you know that?" You started, gritting your teeth slightly from how much your head hurt, "I've been playing by your rules all fucking day, and now you just decide to punish me with a random sneak attack from your blood-thirsty goons?"

"You know what you were up to in that store, ____, so cut the innocent act," Jake started defensively, "We saw everything from outside."

"You saw what?" Jay inquired, fastening his seatbelt as Sunoo took off in the truck, exiting the parking space.

"She must've told that old chick something off about us. I caught her trying to call the cops in the back," Sunghoon clarified.

"I didn't tell her anything about you sickos... she just recognized Jay and wanted to help, given how crazy you clearly are," you fought back, wrestling with the door knob but to no avail.

"God, can I just punch her again?" Niki groaned in annoyance, "I swear, she never stops running her damn mouth."

“Remember what Jay said, we're not allowed to leave any bruises on his precious toy,” Heeseung sighed, cracking his knuckles and glancing at you from his seat, “…Unfortunately.”

“What’d you guys do to Mandy?”

The car nearly rocked you out of your seat before Jungwon reached over a hand to hold you in place, “We cooked her in a skillet with onions and bell pepper.”

Their lack of humanity was unbelievable.

“What’d you sick freaks do to her!?” You screamed with a cracked voice, pushing Jungwon's hands off of you in a fit of rage.

Sunoo was getting so annoyed with your whining that he slammed his foot and the gas, causing the view outside the window to become blurry given the increased speed.

"Hey, try not to get us all killed before we even get there, speed demon," Jungwon sighed, wrapping his hand around the roof's coat hook.

Sunoo slightly slowing down a bit as he trailed down a rocky path you're sure you've seen recently.

Maybe even just yesterday.

Before you knew it, the truck was coming to a complete stop under the shady forest-life surroundings, doors unlocking in sync at every which end.

Just like before, Jake and Heeseung carried you out of the vehicle before detaining your arms, clutching you by both the armpits.

Your shoulders were starting to tingle from how tightly they held onto you, your feet dragging dumbly behind as they walked towards a ledge where the rest of the boys stood nearby.

By now, you're not sure if it was the fear making you feel dizzy, or your lack of energy from being starved all day, but what you knew for sure was that fighting against the seven boys always made you feel better than just taking their plows.

“I know you’re not gonna throw me over, so you can put me down already," you taunted them, frustration still ever present in your voice as you spoke, "You punks don’t have the balls to.”

"Oh, yeah," the eldest boy started amusedly, "Maybe I'll have to prove you wrong sometime-"

“For the love of God, would you stop being horny for one second?” Jay cringed in disgust, to which Heeseung only chuckled in response.

“Look. Sunghoon and I have a better idea,” Jungwon offered, motioning for Niki to walk towards you as Jake and Heeseung still held you firmly in their arms.

“Mhm, and what’s that?” You challenged, not feeling threatened in the slightest by Niki’s presence in this moment.

You’d give it to him that he was scarier than the others, but his age was enough for you to underestimate him.

Bad move, honestly…

“You say we won’t throw you over, right?" Niki huffed, staring you down with his piercing eyes as he stood behind you, "Then I say let’s prove that theory wrong,” Niki grunted, kicking you in the back as gravity snatched you clean from Jake and Heeseung's grip.

You tumbled down the hill, rocks and sticks coming into contact with your fragile skin before you rolled into a steep ditch, falling flat on your back. A bit of dirt got caught in your throat, making you cough more than desired given how sore your stomach was feeling now.

“What the fuck, Niki?” Sunghoon scolded the younger boy, aggressively pushing his shoulder.

“I had to do something! Otherwise we would’ve just spent our time taunting her for hours. And besides, she was gonna rat us out anyway.”

Sunghoon shook his head at Niki's words, “But Jungwon and I didn’t agree upon kicking her over the ledge, Niki... Jay, aren’t you gonna do something about this? She could die down there!” Sunghoon pressed, a worried expression wavering over Jake’s face now, too.

“And I’ll worry about that in the morning,” Jay said plainly, biting his lip as if in thought before continuing, “Go home. All of you.”

“But," Sunoo started, finally starting to feel an emotion other than anger, "what about you?”

“I’ll get back my own way. Just do as I say,” he answered coldly, leaving the camp sight and heading up the hill, likely to walk home for the night.

"All… alright then," Heeseung frowned almost, motioning with his hand for the rest of the boys to follow him as they walked back to the truck, obeying Jay's words.

You heard most of the conversation but your coughing caused you to miss a few parts. Though, one phrase echoed in the back of your mind a few times as your eyes began to fail you in the darkness of the hole.

She was gonna rat us out anyways...

That's when you felt something fuzzy crawl over your hand.

Wait- no?

It was actually kind of cold and sticky- OH MY GOSH, something else just crawled over your foot!

A- and... what the heck, your face.

A family of rats ran rampant around you, your scream of terror causing the sickening creatures to retreat to whatever hole they crawled from as you got up from the ground, now feeling more disgusted than ever.

The tears were finally starting to fall again.

The squeaks that croaked from their tiny bodies was enough to make you feel nauseous, and the smell of rot that emitted all around you didn't seem to help, either.

You fell back to your knees, too weak, too hungry, and too hurt to keep pushing yourself. And for what? That clan of reckless freaks who had no other goal in life but to help Jay fulfill his delusional needs?

A cluster of thoughts floated within the foggy space of your mind.

What if you submitted to Jay from now on?

Would that really make him happy?

Would that really change the rocky course in which your life already in pieces was crumbling upon?

No, you fought with your depleting strength, I can't give up on myself… not just yet.

You tried climbing out of the ditch, shoving your feet into the soft dirt that made up the walls, but you were already in too deep.

It didn’t bring you any more comfort knowing that you’d be stuck down here for the rest of the night, and maybe even longer if Jay saw fit. No matter how loud you screamed nor how pitifully you cried, no one was coming to save you.

Ｔｏ ｂｅ ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ…

☆ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ taglist: @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled @haechansheart @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii @valhrts @tinyenha @lisaaannna @valentineluvr @heecries @espyluvsyou @tokusatsutoad @confuse20x @teddursa @riviyw @tamii4 @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @03sunoos @oshsha @elleflying07 @jjungwonss @soobins--dimple @heeseung-min @yevene @clarisabutterfliescupcake @heerinnie @wonbyf @naddii @smouches (forgot to tag you earlier, sorry)

☆ Special credit to @kimjiho1 for the vintage borders used in this fic !! She called me “cute” and “bro” in the same sentence once, and I nearly folded in half—

[valkyriexo]

Microphones and Mistakes PT 2

ᑉ³pairing; Dad! Husband! Bangchan x idol! reader

ᑉ³genre;  Comfort, Fluff, a little angsty but not really

ᑉ³warnings; None I think.

ᑉ³Authors Note; This is part 2 . Edited! Please let me know if there are any warnings I am missing!

ઇଓ Part 1

After the less-than-perfect performance and the tense confrontation with Chan, you made your way home, eager to leave the chaos of the night behind you. The drive back felt long and lonely, your thoughts consumed by the events of the evening and the lingering hurt in your heart. You didn't bother to socialize or debrief with anyone, choosing instead to head straight home.

Stepping through the front door, the silence enveloped you like a warm embrace. The house felt empty and still, the only sounds the soft hum of the air conditioning and the gentle creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. The familiar scent of home, a mix of freshly laundered linens and comforting aromas from the kitchen, greeted you, offering a sense of comfort amidst the turmoil.

Seeking solace in the quiet familiarity of your own space, you craved the comfort of home to process everything that had transpired. The soft glow of the living room lamps cast a warm, inviting light, coaxing you to sink into the plush cushions of the sofa and escape from the outside world.

Making your way to the living room, you leaned against the side of the couch with a heavy sigh. The weight of the evening's events hung heavily on your shoulders, the hurt and frustration threatening to overwhelm you once again. Each moment replayed in your mind like scenes from an unending movie, stirring up emotions you struggled to contain.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you saw bloodshot red eyes staring back at you, a telltale sign of fatigue and perhaps a few tears shed in solitude. The realization dawned that Kai and Chan would be returning home any minute, and the last thing you wanted was for them to witness your vulnerable state.

With a sense of urgency, you hurried to the bathroom, the sound of the door unlocking echoing through the hallway like an inevitable countdown. The faucet gushed to life as you splashed cold water on your face, hoping to wash away not just the physical signs of distress but also the emotional weight that had settled upon your shoulders.

Each drop of water felt like a gentle caress, soothing the tiredness and offering a momentary respite from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside. With trembling hands, you reached for a towel, patting away the excess moisture as you took a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself before their arrival.

The dim light cast a veil of solace over you as you leaned against the cool tiles, desperately trying to steady your racing heart.

Outside, the familiar voices of Chan and Kai echoed through the hallway, their conversation punctuated by the soft shuffle of footsteps.

"Alright buddy," Chan's gentle voice floated through the air. "It's getting late. Time to start winding down."

"But I wanna play, Daddy," Kai's innocent plea tugged at your heartstrings, his youthful enthusiasm tempered by the exhaustion etched in his father's weary tone.

"I know, buddy, but it's past your bedtime," Chan replied with a hint of resignation. "How about we play tomorrow, okay?"

Kai's disappointment was palpable, his reluctance evident as he reluctantly agreed to retire for the night. With a heavy heart, you listened as the sound of his footsteps receded down the hallway, accompanied by the soft click of his bedroom door closing.

Alone in the living room, Chan sank into the couch, the weight of the day's events bearing down on him like a leaden cloak. You could sense his weariness, his silent struggle mirrored in the slump of his shoulders as he sat in solemn solitude.

Seizing the opportunity presented before you, you silently slipped out of the bathroom, your footsteps barely making a sound as you tiptoed past the living room. With bated breath, you made your way to the safety of your bedroom.

Inside the dimly lit room, you allowed yourself a moment of respite, the quiet tranquility a welcome reprieve from the chaos that threatened to engulf you. As you sat on your bed, tears began to flow once again, rendering the earlier attempt to wash your face futile.

The room itself seemed to echo with the emptiness of your heart, the shadows dancing on the walls a silent reminder of the turmoil within. Despite the comfort of home surrounding you, you felt adrift in a sea of uncertainty, unsure of what the future held or how to navigate the stormy waters ahead.

Was you really that poor of a parent?

The question echoed in your mind, a relentless taunt that fueled the flames of self-doubt and insecurity.

You had always prided yourself on being a loving and attentive parent. From tender lullabies sung in the quiet of the night to comforting embraces that chased away his fears, you had poured your heart and soul into every aspect of Kai's upbringing.

Yet, despite your best intentions, the events of the evening had left you questioning everything you thought you knew about yourself. The doubts crept in like tendrils of smoke, twisting and coiling around your thoughts until you could no longer distinguish truth from fiction. Was your love truly enough? Had you failed Kai in some profound way that you couldn't see?

And then there was Chan.

Was he regretting everything, including marrying you and starting a family?

Did he want to leave you?

The mere thought of it sent a shiver down your spine, a cold fear gripping your heart with icy fingers. You couldn't bear to imagine a future without him, to think that the love you had built together was now crumbling before your eyes.

As you sat alone in the quiet of your room, the weight of uncertainty settled heavily upon you. You replayed the events of the evening over and over again, searching for signs of reassurance.

But with each passing moment, the fear of Chan leaving you grew stronger, gnawing at the edges of your consciousness like a relentless predator. You longed to reach out to him, to bridge the gap that had formed between you, but the fear of rejection held you back.

He was going to leave you. You just knew it.

The warmth of the room offered little comfort in the face of such uncertainty. You wrapped yourself in a blanket, seeking solace in its soft embrace, but the chill in your heart remained unyielding. The thought of Chan walking away from you, from the life you had built together, was a nightmare too terrible to contemplate.

But as the hours stretched on and the night wore on, you knew that you couldn't avoid the truth forever. The uncertainty of Chan's feelings hung heavy in the air, a storm cloud on the horizon threatening to unleash its fury at any moment. And as you braced yourself for the inevitable, you prayed that the love you shared would be strong enough to survive.

Just then, you heard a soft knock on the door. Before you could respond, it creaked open, revealing the tiny figure of your son, Kai, standing there with a crumpled piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

"M-mommy," Kai stuttered, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

You turned to face him, your eyes still brimming with tears. "Yes, Kai?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a hesitant step forward, Kai held out the paper towards you. "I made this for you," he said, his words coming out in a rush. "I want you to stop crying."

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached out to take the paper from his hand. Unfolding it carefully, you saw a colorful drawing, scribbled with crayon marks, and accompanied by Kai's attempt at writing, his letters barely legible.

"I love you, Mommy," the message read, accompanied by a stick-figure drawing of you, Chan and Kai holding hands, surrounded by hearts and smiling faces.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again, but this time, they were tears of love and gratitude. Despite the chaos and tension surrounding you, Kai's simple gesture reminded you of the love that bound your family together.

You pulled Kai into a tight embrace, holding him close as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Thank you, Kai," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I love you too, sweetheart."

At that moment, as you held your son close, the hurt and frustration began to melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and reassurance. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way.

With Kai's drawing clutched tightly in your hand, you wiped away your tears and stood up, feeling a renewed sense of determination. Taking a deep breath, you smiled at the boy in front of you.

"It's time for bed," you said gently, guiding Kai towards his room. He protested slightly, but you reassured him with a soft tone and a comforting touch.

Once in his room, you tucked him in snugly, ensuring he was comfortable, before leaning down to plant a kiss on his forehead. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart," you whispered, watching as his eyelids fluttered closed.

As you exited Kai's room, you made your way towards the living room, where you knew Chan would be. With each step, you felt the weight of the evening's events coming back.

Entering the living room, you found Chan sitting on the couch. As you settled beside him, the atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken tension. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he averted his eyes, his jaw clenched in apparent frustration. His silence spoke volumes, his eyes betraying a mixture of frustration and concern.

"Chan," you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I know things got out of hand earlier, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

He held up a hand, cutting off your apology before you could finish. "No, Y/N, let me say something first."

"But Chan-"

"I was out of line," Chan admitted, his voice tinged with remorse. "What I said... it was unfair, and I shouldn't have lashed out like that. I know you're doing your best, and I shouldn't have questioned your parenting."

His admission took you by surprise, the weight of his apology easing some of the tension in your chest. "Chan, I..."

But he shook his head, his expression earnest. "Please, let me finish. I love Kai, and I love you. More than anything in this world. And I know I haven't been as present as I should be lately, but that doesn't excuse my behavior."

You felt your throat begin to dry at his words.

"I want to fix this, Y/N," Chan continued, his gaze unwavering. "I want us to be a team, to support each other through the ups and downs. I don't want you to ever feel like you're alone in this."

"Chan," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, "I thought you were going to leave me because of this."

Chan looked at you sharply, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Leave you?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief.

He took a breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of unspoken emotions.

"Y/N," Chan started, his tone carrying a touch of vulnerability, "I have to admit, there are times when you really get under my skin. You can be annoying and push my buttons, and we don't always see eye to eye. But even in those moments, I still love you." He paused, his expression tender as he reached out to gently grasp your hand. "Because love isn't just about the easy times. It's about accepting each other's imperfections and choosing to stand by each other, no matter what."

His words hung in the air, mingling with the tension that lingered between you. You remained silent, unsure of how to respond, feeling the weight of his conflicted emotions.

"But truthfully I can't imagine my life without you, Y/N," Chan continued, his voice trembling ever so slightly with emotion. "You are my rock, my anchor in a sea of uncertainty. And every day, I thank whatever higher power brought us together, because being with you is the greatest blessing I could ever ask for."

Tears glistened in your eyes as you listened to Chan pour his heart out to you, his words a symphony of love and devotion. In that moment, you felt the weight of his love like never before, a love so pure and unwavering that it felt almost tangible.

"And Kai," Chan continued, a tender smile gracing his lips at the mention of your son's name. "He is the living embodiment of our love, a testament to the bond that we share. I may not always show it, but I would move heaven and earth for him, for both of you."

His declaration brought a lump to your throat, the love in his eyes reflecting the love that burned within your own heart.

"Y/N," Chan whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to caress your cheek, "I love you more than life itself. And I will spend every moment of eternity proving that to you."

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you leaned into Chan's touch, the overwhelming surge of emotion threatening to consume you. In his arms, you found solace, security, and above all, an unwavering love that would endure for all eternity.

"I love you too. More than words can express. And I don't want to lose you..."

His eyes softened at your confession, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "You won't," he vowed solemnly. "I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. We'll figure this out together, I promise."

ઇଓ Part 1

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

[heretoobsessstuff]

Soooo I have a WIP i’ve been writing for a little while in which Gale is emotionally repressed and Bucky has a complicated relationship with him crying. Here’s a snippet:

The first time Bucky ever saw Gale cry, truly cry, was when they were in Stalag. Gale was there when the gates opened and he walked in. He held Bucky up as he wavered on his feet, arms wrapping around his waist and bearing most of his weight as he walked him to the cots. Bucky felt strong tremors running through Gale’s body as they moved in sync. They had barely said a word to each other but Bucky couldn’t think of anything to say that would convey what he was feeling then. He couldn’t look away from Gale as he walked down the narrow hallway and helped deposit Bucky on the chair gently. That whole afternoon had been a blur of pain, exhaustion and Gale. He hadn’t manage to look away from Gale for a single second. Eyes following his every move as he fussed over Bucky and wet a cloth to rub at his face gently. Gale remained calm and collected. Threw Bucky gentle smiles and held him tightly when they hugged. Bucky saw his eyes fill with water multiple times as he told him about what he had gone through but no tears fell. He had held it together with strength, wiped Bucky’s own tears away and assured him he’ll be okay and that they’re gonna make it out. He sat beside him all night, waking him up periodically to make sure he was still alive. Laid wet cloths on his forehead as he fought the fever. Hand never leaving Bucky’s own.

During the second night, when Bucky was barely lucid with fever, he had opened his eyes to see Gale with his head resting where he was holding Bucky’s hand in his own. “You got to fight this John” Gale whispered into their linked fingers. “Thought I lost you once. Can’t do it again” Bucky was about to turn and tell him he’s alright and that Gale needs to go to bed because his back was going to kill him in the morning with the way he was crouching like that. But he fell silent in shock as he felt moisture on his knuckles. Gale was crying silently against his hand. His breathes left him in quiet huffs as he held on to Bucky. Tears falling drop by drop. Bucky felt helpless as he squeezed his eyes shut. Felt his own eyes burning as the wave of emotions hit him like a freight train. It felt surreal to witness this. To witness Gale crying. Crying over him. Years of wondering what would make Gale break and in the end, it had been him. It filled him with shameful hope. Hope that maybe what Gale felt for him was more than just a friendship. I thought I lost you too. He thought but he had told Gale that already it feels like a privilege to feel your tears on my hands. He remained silent. Gale obviously thought Bucky is asleep so he refused to interrupt Gale’s private moment with useless words. He didn’t want Gale to put on that mask back on have to pretend he’s fine for Bucky’s sake so he just pretended to sleep. He kept his grip on Gale’s fingers strong, though. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on his knuckle as sleep and fever swallowed him again. If Gale noticed it, he never said anything about it and that was that.

[skyfallscotland]

This somehow takes place both within and outside of BRV at the same time. Because unexplained time travel. That's why. It's also completely unpolished because it's 2am and I don't know what I'm doing here.

intertwining souls (we were never strangers) - part one

In the seconds that have passed since he appeared from the tunnel, restraining my hands behind my back, a slight breeze has picked up, blowing my hair over my shoulder. Fuck. Silver-tipped brown strands float out towards him, as if reaching for his hand the way my heart aches to. I know immediately he’s made the connection. “There’s a very reasonable explanation for this.” I croak, my pulse fluttering with fear as he closes the distance between us, drawing one of his twin swords from his back. 

“Oh fuck,” I curse, groaning as I hold my forearm tight against my closed eyelids. The cold texture of Sgaeyl’s scales is soothing against my throbbing temple and I let out a low whimper, rolling onto my side to press my head into the soft grass. “Holy shit.”

“Lía…” I groan aloud, listening for the heavy beat of wings over the buzzing in my ears. I can’t hear any. Did I blow my eardrums out? Carefully, I reach up with my other hand, feeling for any moisture. Nothing. I falter a little upon the realisation that I can hear wings in the distance, but not…here…

“Lía?” I call out, forcing back the bile that rises in my throat. I’d…fallen. I’d fallen and she hadn’t caught me and…she hadn’t followed me down at all. Slowly, I blink my eyes open, the fading sunlight sending a sharp pain rippling through my head. As I sit up, I run a hand over my hair. My braid’s come loose and the silky strands are now fluttering in the slight breeze, meaning I’ve lost the poisoned wire I usually wind through it. There’s no blood though, at least, so it must just be a concussion. 

My brow furrows as I close my eyes, reaching. I reach…and reach, but…nothing. A panicked gasp escapes me. There’s nothing there. “Lía!” I call more urgently this time. The sky is empty. No. No, no, no, no. Even the time I’d been dosed with that awful serum I could still feel her there, lurking—as if hidden behind a frosted pane of glass. Now though…it was as if I’d never bonded her in the first place. 

Frantically, I look down at my arm, sighing in relief as I see the green dragon relic twisting up and around my bicep, the Daggertail hidden beneath my vambrace. Ok, so we’re still bonded, I just can’t sense her. I don’t think anything could have happened to her—if it had, I’d be dead already—so…what, then? 

The last thing I remember is being knocked off her spine from behind. I hadn’t seen it coming in the slightest. We’d been practicing my balance just over the flight field as she took to the sky, so I hadn’t been strapped in. Did she…not have time to catch me? That doesn’t make sense! Even if she hadn’t caught me in time, she’d still be here now—and so would the rest of my squad for that matter, Liam and Deigh were just ahead of me!

Gingerly, I pull myself to my feet, rotating my sore joints. Maybe I was…dreaming? Or I’m in a coma now, because there’s no way I actually fell from the back of my dragon and slammed into the ground without breaking anything. 

In the time I’ve been contemplating, the sun has gone down fully and the moon has begun to rise, the entire sky a blanket full of stars. I turn on my heel, determined to get back to my room and find someone—anyone—who can tell me what the fuck is going on, when there’s a slight crack and my head snaps up in the direction of the hidden tunnel linking the field with the academic wing. 

For a moment, panic thunders through me and I grip the dagger at my thigh in a closed fist, but then there’s a familiar cool brush against my skin and my spine relaxes. “Xade?” I call out, a slight frown on my face. “What the hell, it’s Wednesday!” I hiss, storming toward the tunnel. “You should be—”

I’m shoved backward, barely able to keep my balance as I trip over my own feet, shadows restraining me in the dark. “Fuck,” I curse. “That’s not funny.” I snap. “I have a concussion and Lía won’t answer me and I can’t channel so don’t—” He steps into the moonlight and my jaw drops. Malek deliver me. “Xaden?” My voice cracks.

He looks so cold, so closed off I barely even recognise him. It’s been a very, very long time since he looked at me like that, if he ever did. There’s movement at his side and Garrick steps through, followed by…Masen. “Oh gods.” If my hands were free, I’m certain one would be over my mouth right now. My eyes quickly run over their uniforms—cadet’s uniforms—and I realise I’m in big, big trouble. They each have two, small silver stars on the shoulder. Second-years. 

“No. No, no, no, no.” I mutter. 

“Yes.” He finally speaks, his eyes trailing over my form from head to toe. “And who might you be?” My partner—but not—paces toward me slowly, his lips tilting up viciously as he croons. “You’re wearing rider black and a wingleader’s jacket, but I’ve never seen you—” He pauses, his eyes widening slightly. 

In the seconds that have passed since he appeared from the tunnel, restraining my hands behind my back, a slight breeze has picked up, blowing my hair over my shoulder. Fuck. Silver-tipped brown strands float out towards him, as if reaching for his hand the way my heart aches to. I know immediately he’s made the connection. “There’s a very reasonable explanation for this.” I croak, my pulse fluttering with fear as he closes the distance between us, drawing one of his twin swords from his back. 

“Xaden, please!” I beg, panic muddling my senses. Something furious flickers in his eyes. “Baby, listen to me—” His shadows slip for a split-second as if in surprise and almost simultaneously, the ground shakes, rattling my teeth together. Half a sob escapes my mouth and I turn on my heel and run. I don’t know what makes me think she’s the better option, that she’ll recognise me when my partner, the love of my life doesn’t. 

“Sgaeyl!” I yell, boot-covered feet carrying me full-tilt toward her. “Sgaeyl!” His shadows tug at my ankles and I don’t know if it’s a happy accident or if he meant for it to happen, but it means I go flying into the grass just as her teeth snap shut where my head once was. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” I shriek. 

“LÍA!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “LÍA!”

“Quiet!” Xaden snaps, his shadows smothering any sound I attempt to get out. “Fucking Sorrengail.” He crouches in the grass, his hand on my throat. “That’s who you are, isn’t it? You’re one of Lilith Sorrengail’s.” I snarl at him, lifting a leg to kick him in the groin, but his shadows catch my shin before I can do any damage. 

Gold-flecked onyx eyes stare down at me without an ounce of recognition. “Who’s Lía? Is that your…” Slowly, he stops as if realising for the first time where he’s heard that name before. I stare up at him pleadingly. His hand trails over my arm, tracing the relic at my shoulder. “Lilith Sorrengail’s youngest aren’t old enough to have bonded dragons.” His hand slips down further to the vambrace on my wrist and he picks it up, turning it to face the moonlight. “What the…” He drops it like it burns him. 

Hot steam wafts over me and I hold still as a giant blue-scaled snout drops down to sniff at me. “That’s impossible.” Xaden snaps and I almost feel sorry for him as Sgaeyl shoves him backward onto his ass. Almost. 

“You…asshole!” I seethe, launching myself forward. I don’t feel even a little bit bad for the crack that sounds through the air as I punch him in the face. Serves him right. I pull my arm back again. “You’re in so much fucking trouble, you hear me! I’m going to—” 

A throat clears. “I’m going to have to ask you to stop doing that.” A familiar voice says, tinged with amusement, before adding, “whoever you are.” 

I huff. “Shut up Garrick. Buzz off and tell Imogen how you feel.” A choked sound escapes the man beneath me. “I’m not kidding.” I tell him when he doesn’t move. “Take Masen and give us some space. I want you out of hearing distance.” 

When I glance up, the older man is gaping. “Who the hell are you? Why would I listen to you?” A warm nudge at my back has me unbalanced for a moment, but I manage to hold my ground, straddling Xaden’s torso. 

“Remi Sorrengail.” I tell him, reaching out a hand behind me to press it to Sgaeyl’s maw. “And you’re going to listen to me because it’s in your best interest. Shoo.” He mouths the last word to himself disbelievingly, before his eyes flit over my shoulder at the Blue Daggertail behind me and my hand currently resting above her nose.

“Ok. You’re on your own, brother.” He says succinctly, before turning on his heel and heading for the rocky outcropping they came from. When I look back down, Xaden’s eyes are narrowed and his mouth is downturned and twitching slightly. He’s definitely arguing with Sgaeyl. Impatience not in the least bit tempered by the one hit I’d gotten in, I slip my hand from his shoulder to his jaw and tug, leaning down to claim his lips with mine. 

For a moment, he’s still, his body rigid beneath me and I feel something in my chest shrivel and die. Desperately, I pour every ounce of love and fear I have into it, begging, willing his soul to recognise mine. Slowly, tentatively, his lips part. My fingers reach up to tangle in his hair and by the time we part for air, I’m curled over him, my eyes just inches from his own. “Look at me.” I demand, my thumb stroking over his cheekbone before I drop my voice to a low whisper. “Read me.”

He jolts, his eyes widening. It’s…clumsy almost when he reaches out toward me and I realise with an aching heart it’s probably because he hasn’t had much, if any practice at this point. He’s only twenty-two. Holy shit. Patiently, I push a memory to the forefront of my mind—laying in each other’s arms, trading bites of chocolate cake on his favourite hillside in Aretia. 

“Holy shit.” He whispers and my lips curve upward. 

“Hi.” I murmur quietly, dropping a chaste, gut-wrenching kiss to his lips. “I’m Remi.” My throat tightens as I force back tears. “And one time you told me it was love at first sight. I’m starting to think that you lied.”

He stares. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, climbing to my feet. “I know this isn’t—that you don’t know me.” I choke out. “But I don’t know what happened and I can’t feel my dragon and I’m scared, Xade.” Slowly, he climbs to his feet and takes a step toward me, closing the gap again. 

A hand reaches out to brush my hair behind my ear and a wet chuckle escapes me. I guess some things really don’t change. “Where—when are you from?” He finally asks, his eyes glued to my face.

“Two years from now.” I whisper. “Give or take.” I glance at the two stars on his uniform. “My twin and I—” I pause, my mouth snapping shut.

“Your twin…Violet, right?” I nod, mutely. “Listen, Sorrengail,” he begins and it sounds so strange coming from him that I flinch.

“I don’t know how much I should share.” I blurt. “What if…if this is time travel, then should I be keeping everything to myself? Just in case…” Just in case it changes things. My eyes flit over his shoulder for a second to where Garrick and Masen stand and guilt flares in my chest. I should want to tell him everything, to tell him every detail so he can try and prevent people from getting hurt, but I…I’m selfish. I worry if I do tell him anything further, maybe it will change things and he won’t…love me. 

“Are there things you think you should share?” He asks archly and I chuckle, the sound almost hysterical even to my ears.

“You have no idea.” I croak.  

His lips tilt up, just slightly. “I think I have some idea.” He says softly. “It must have been a pretty crazy two years for me to end up with a Sorrengail.”

I lift a brow. “Because you could never be cordial with a Sorrengail?” I glare, arching a brow. It takes a moment before it clicks and his mouth forms a small ‘o’. “Yeah, that one was fun to find out after almost dying.” 

“You almost died?” He says immediately, his eyes running over me again from head to toe. I shrug, noncommittally. “What can you tell me?” He asks, exasperated and I grin, looking up at him adoringly. 

“I love that tick in your jaw, this one right here.” I carefully slide my thumb across it. “I used to be such a common cause of it.” 

I’m faced with a deadpan expression. “Somehow, I’m certain you still are.” 

I laugh aloud. “Maybe.”

Sgaeyl takes to the sky behind me and I whip around, my eyes following her form as she disappears in the direction of the Vale. “She’s going to get your Lía.” He informs me, his voice low. “To see in person if she knows anything—feels anything from you.” 

I shake my head immediately. “I don’t think so. I can’t feel her at all, like she’s not even there. Although…” I trail off contemplatively. “If anyone in the Vale can help, it might be Andarna.” 

Xaden’s eyes turn distant for a moment before he focuses back in on me. “Sgaeyl won’t tell me what that means.” 

I nod. “She shouldn’t.” I reply simply. She’ll know. I glance over his shoulder once more. “Heading out on a drop?” I ask, noting the bags by Garrick’s feet. 

My partner stiffens. “You…”

I smile up at him fondly. “I really wish I could tell you the story of how I found out right now.” 

“You could.” He suggests. 

“No.” I deny, leaning in to wrap my arms around him. He’s still for a second before slowly, carefully he brushes a hand over my hair, stroking softly. I tuck my face into his neck, breathing him in. 

“We’re…serious, then?” He asks and I can feel his free hand tracing over the Riorson family crest on my vambrace. 

“Very.” I laugh. “You’re going to marry me one day soon.” When I look up, I’m sure my eyes are bright. “Because I’m the best thing that ever happened to you, not because someone else thought it would be a good idea.” 

His lips part slightly. “You know…” 

My heart sinks a little. “I know.” I confirm. “Xade?” I lift a hand to his chest, resting it gently over his heart. “Promise me something—don’t go to Cordyn.” I beg. “If they want to renegotiate just tell them no, don’t go there.” I plead. 

“Why?” He asks carefully, in that way of his that means he’s hiding something.

“Just…promise me.” I beg. “Or promise me you won’t be alone with her, I just…Xaden.” I hold his gaze, pleading with my eyes. 

“Ok.” He relents. “I promise.” I sigh in relief, tension draining out of me as I bury my face in his neck. Maybe it’s selfish, to try and change this and only this, or maybe it won’t make a lick of difference—perhaps whenever this…anomaly is over, I’ll simply go back to my time and he’ll forget ever having met me until that day on the parapet. 

But if there’s even a chance I can change it—this one thing that affects no one and nothing but him—I’ll take it. “Thank you.” I murmur, pressing my lips to his throat. When I pull away slightly to meet his gaze again, I let my thumb trail reverently over his lips. 

“I love you.” I whisper. “I need you to know that.” I smile sadly at the broken, desperate look in his eyes. “I love you more than anything—anyone—I’ve ever loved or ever will love. There is no me, without you.”

Slowly, he lowers his lips to mine of his own volition and my soul sings.

Part Two

[mrsoharaa]

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝑰𝒏 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏!

characters: Miguel O'hara x Reader

cw; none! all fluff! rainy cuteness! (I honestly think about this type of scenario allll the time ♡)

a/n; couldn't stop thinking about this so I decided to write it! ..... at 2 in the morning LMAO! Miggy my beloved, you are sooo loved! (✿ ʃƪ ˘ ³ ˘) ♡ (another impeccablyyy self indulgent piece for my soul ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა)

since it's raining ever so gently and lovingly where I live rn I'm just thinking about reader happily twirling in the gentle pattering rain, arms stretched out, head tilted back to welcome the cooling droplets of the skies natural, tranquil gift cascading across their blissful face. A lulled delicate hum of delight rumbles from their chest, enjoying the cooling bits of the tittering rain caress the tender of their flesh. Basking in nature's soul cleansing refreshness.

Lost in their own little world, drowning in the pure delight and awe of the descending liquid seeping into their skin.

All while Miguel just crosses his arms and leans against the foot of your apartment front door, brows risen and a confused gaze hinting in such soft carmine irises.

"What are you doing? you're going to get sick, entra" he watches you smile wider, simply enjoying the blissful, peaceful moment of embracing natures purity. You stop momentarily in your tracks, now facing towards your looming boyfriend who was still wearing such a cynical expression. You giggle giddily, feeling the collecting moisture from the ground recoil over your bare feet.

"Come join me Miggy! it's so refreshing and freeing!" you chime with a perched smile, arms stretched out towards your skeptical partner. He scoffs, eliciting a eye roll.

"It won't be so refreshing when you get a cold the next morning, now come, before I have to go over there and throw you over my shoulders" he insists.

"Please! just...humor me Migs! I promise after one twirl, I'll come inside with you!" you swirl your arms a bit, flaunting him those wide, glimmering pretty doe eyes of yours, the very ones he could never refuse from you, with a beaming smile.

He groans inwardly, hesitating on his questionable decision but kicks himself out from the frame of your door. Slightly tenses up from the sudden change of temperature clouding over his stocky warm body, soften water droplets permeating through the waves of his beautiful cocoa locks to the comforting fabric of his clothes. Leaving little, to no room, for the wandering imagination.

He huffs out heavily, standing just a few inches before you, brows perking higher as he watches you gleam up at him with such wonderment and love. Can't help but raise a lipped smile as he feels your tiny hands entangle with his subtly, drawing him closer to you, allowing the rain to dance and embrace the two of you.

"See, it's completely soothing and soul cleansing, no?" you tilt your head to the right, still wearing that heart melting smile on your adoring face.

Miguel only hums in reply, glances up at the dim lit, foggy sky, seeing nothing but muggy darkness.

He closes his eyes slowly, musing to your silly portrayal about the rain being so cleansing and comforting. In a way...he did feel a sort of contentment resonate all over his firm body. Cradling, nurturing to his rugged soul.

You couldn't help the giddy grin widen across your radiant face, mirroring his actions with your hands still holding his.

The harmonic sound of the rain bouncing off against the ground around you and distant thunder wooed you both into a deep state of pliancy. Serenity.

Feeling your souls connect ever so perfectly with the pattering water waltzing around you.

Your fingers curl further into Miguel's deeper, pulling at his larger hands with a dire request.

Miguels lowly hums, peering open his eyes as he looks down at you, noting the familiar glint of want and admiration swelling in those gorgeous round globes of enchantment. A flash of unmistakable plea peering up at him, he could only scoff with a lit smile.

He carefully pulls you close to his looming stature, lifts his left hand to delicately brush away the sticking wet strands of your hair clinging to the sides of your face and tuck them behind your ear. Eyes never leaving one another, as his palm soothes down from the plush of your soaked cheeks to the side of your jaw, holding you still with tender and adoration.

"You really are something else, aren't you cariño?" he mutters softly, leaning down to press his lips against your own with such passion and affection. Smiles wider when he feels your body practically melt into his arms, your own lips curling into a wider smile as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, fingers generously weaving into his damped, soften curls.

[writeforfandoms]

Homeward Bound 2

Find the series masterlist

Your job as the caretaker is rarely boring, especially around nesting time. Fortunately, you're prepared for almost anything.

Warnings: Swearing, accidental self harm (walking on hot sand), bits of backstory.

Word count: 1k

Your room off the hatching grounds was small, with just the necessities. A simple bed, a small table for some jerky and water, and a small wardrobe. You didn't inhabit this room all the time, thankfully - your normal room was bigger, more spacious. But for the last weeks leading up to the hatching, if you weren't out on the sands, you could be found here. 

You didn't dare go far from the eggs, especially as it got closer to hatching day. It was risky, considering you would only get a few hours’ warning, at best. 

So when someone knocked on your door at some ungodly hour, you woke and rolled out of bed before your brain even had a chance to catch up. You threw on your robe for some semblance of modesty, yanking the door open. 

One of the messenger boys stood in front of your door, hair mussed and cheeks red from his run. “One of the dragons,” he said, one hand waving back the way he'd come. 

You didn't wait for the rest of his message, pushing past him and sprinting down the short hall and to the sands. Hot sand nearly burned the bottoms of your feet, but you paid it no mind. 

It took only a moment to find the dragon in question. A new mother, gray wings spread wide, nearly prancing in distress but somehow never even touching her eggs. 

“Hey, hey, easy,” you soothed, approaching her carefully, hands up. “Easy, beautiful. Calm down and show me what's wrong.” 

She hissed, higher pitched than normal, more nervous than aggressive. But she settled, at least a little, all four feet remaining planted now. 

“Good,” you crooned, taking another couple steps closer. “Now. Show me what's wrong.” 

She hissed again but allowed you close, wings slowly settling against her back again. She stepped back carefully, allowing you to see the nest. 

And the clear crack that ran across the top of one of her eggs. 

“Oh.” Sharp pain lanced clean through your chest. “Oh, beautiful….” Ever so carefully, your fingertips ran across the crack, feeling for moisture. It was possible the internal membrane hadn't torn, in which case you could patch up the egg. Fortunately, that looked to be the case this time. You breathed out slowly, pressing your palm mid-way down the shell to check the temperature. A little cool, but not bad. 

You could make this work. 

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Okay. Your egg is okay.” You looked up at the dragon to make sure she understood, meeting brilliant golden eyes fearlessly. “I'm going to help.” 

She trilled softly, lowering her head to nudge your shoulder very gently. 

“Yes, yes,” you murmured, sparing one hand to pat her snout. “Go get your rider, and a few others if you can. Quickly.” 

She hesitated only a moment, the instinctive pull to remain at her nest strong, before she turned and took off. You didn't watch her go, instead focusing on shoring up the sand around all the eggs. That would help keep them all stable and warm. 

Now to address the crack. 

You didn't want to leave it alone - there was too much potential for things to get in there and cause problems. 

You had all the things you'd need for a kind of paste you could cover the crack with. It would need to be reapplied periodically until the egg hatched, but it would work. 

You spared a brief thought of thanks that your mother had taught you everything about this job. 

The tromp of boots on sand and the trill of the dragon pulled your attention up from the sand. The mother had returned with her rider and two others. Including Simon. 

“Pack more sand around these eggs,” you ordered the three. “All around them. But do not touch the cracked egg. I will be back in three minutes.” 

You stood, frowning thunderously when one of the riders goggled at you, mouth open. “Now,” you snapped.

Simon cuffed the gawking rider before striding off to grab one of the shovels. You turned and ran back to the small storage room off the hatching grounds, full of ingredients for just such a need as this. 

The sand was hot as you carried the bowl back to the egg, reminding you painfully that you were not wearing shoes. You grimaced but pushed through, walking calmly this time. You didn't want to get any sand in the bowl. 

The three riders had made quick work of getting the eggs braced with more sand, Simon still holding the shovel even as he watched you approach, eyes dark. 

“Good,” was all you offered, kneeling carefully next to the cracked egg. Partially to not get more sand around, and partially to make sure your robe stayed covering you. You covered the crack with the paste, carefully going beyond the edges of the crack to be sure nothing could get in. When you checked, the egg was already a little warmer. Very good. 

Sighing softly, you pushed back to your feet. “Very good,” you murmured. “The egg will be fine. Thank you for your help.” You looked at each of the three riders. The one who belonged to the mother dragon actually stepped forward to hug you, something you returned a little awkwardly. 

The mother settled around her eggs again, even more carefully now, crooning softly before she settled her snout right next to the cracked egg. You patted her head, relieved. 

It took until you gathered up the bowl and tugged your robe tighter to realize that Simon was still standing to one side, gaze still fixed on you. You paused, foot scuffing through the sand, eyes blowing wide before you schooled your expression back to neutrality. You nodded to him once and strode back to the storage room, covering the remaining paste with a cloth. It would keep for a while. 

You needed to wash up. 

You paused, just for a moment, at the edge of the sand where the hallway to your room branched off. Simon was standing next to Ilsbet, one hand under her chin, forehead pressed to hers. You turned away from the quiet moment. But not before you smiled.

[swmzq]

smut w ferran torres where you guys don’t like each other but you work for barca’s pr team so you’re around each other a lot. you’re at a charity event and have to look after ferran because he drinking loads when he needs to do interviews and so you drag him into an empty room to tell him off and one thing leads to another anddd🤭

change whatever and add whatever, this is just a little thought😵‍💫

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄, 𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

pairing: ferran torres x fem!reader

warnings: smut, alcohol use, swearing, semi public sex,Enemies into loverssss

authors note: i love this request! I fell in love with it immediately when I saw it and started writing directly. Btw this is like my first time writing smut so it’s prob not the best! And call me dumb or whatever but I’m not entirely sure what a PR does so I just went with the one who like follows the team around and look after them kinda and their like photo shoots or events, etc! Rushed sorry!!

MASTERLIST

Dividers by: @tattooedeverything

I let out another groan as my alarm blared for the second time that morning. Rolling over with great effort, due to the ache in my lower back, I scanned the time on my phone through bleary eyes. 7:03 AM. I had hit snooze for an extra seven minutes of rest but knew I couldn't delay getting up any longer without risking being late for my morning meeting.

As my feet hit the cold hardwood floor, a shiver ran up my spine in response. The hard floors did nothing to alleviate the pain radiating through my hips and lower back. I stretched my arms overhead slowly, feeling several joints in my upper back pop in the process. While the movement relieved some of the tension, it did nothing for the underlying discomfort.

In the bathroom, I twisted the faucets of the shower until steam began billowing out of the bathroom.

Stepping under the hot spray, I sighed in relief as the pounding water massaged away some of the knots in tired muscles. Despite the pleasant sensation, I couldn't help but mentally grumble about how my back had gotten into such a state.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a fluffy towel to dry myself off. After wrapping it around my waist, I used another to rough dry my hair. The knots were always worse after sleeping on it wet. Padding over to the sink, I plugged in my hair dryer and began the tedious process of detangling each section.

As I brushed, more joints popped and muscles stretched in my neck and shoulders. My reflection in the foggy mirror showed the tired lines etched deeply in my face. Dark circles hung under my eyes that no amount of concealer seemed able to fully hide lately. I didn't know if it was the frequent late nights at the office or growing stress from dealing with problem players like Ferran, but my self-care had definitely slipped.

Once my hair was mostly dry, I parted it neatly and began applying a light layer of moisturizer. The steamy bathroom had helped soothe some surface tensions, but my back was still tight. I'd have to request an appointment with the chiropractor soon at this rate. Hopefully a visit could help loosen things up so I wasn't shuffling around like an old man in constant pain.

With a final appraisal of myself in the mirror, I turned to get dressed for the day. Yet as I left the bathroom, my traitorous mind again drifted to wondering what new hassle Ferran would cause at our meeting that morning.

I walked into my bedroom and went to the closet to select an outfit for the day. Given it was expected to be warmer than usual, I chose something basic out of my closet.

Once dressed, I headed to the vanity to do my makeup. I applied a light foundation to even out my skintone and conceal the dark circles. A few strategic swipes of blush brought some color back to my cheeks as well. My normal eyebrow pencil and mascara routine followed. While doing my makeup, I thought more about the meeting ahead.

Working for barça’s PR, I would have to hear Ferran's latest complaints first thing. We had been working overtime to smooth things over after his photoshoot snub. My mind ran through possible responses and tactics to defuse Ferran without further stoking the flames of his discontent. A swipe of clear lip gloss was the finishing touch.

Checking the time, I saw I needed to head out soon if I wanted to grab a coffee on my commute. With one last look in the mirror to check my appearance was neat and polished, I grabbed my handbag and keys. Mentally preparing for the impending storm that was Ferran Torres, I headed out the door to start another day at the office.

I rolled my eyes as I tossed the papers onto the desk, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Another fucking charity event, just what I needed. Dealing with drunk players was already a pain in the ass, but adding Ferran Torres to the mix made it even worse.

The sound of knocking filled the air, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Come in!” I called out, turning around to see who it was.

The door swung open, and in stepped Ferran Torres, a grin spreading across his face. “Hey, are you coming to the charity event tonight?” he asked.

I let out a heavy sigh and rubbed my temple, before responding. “Do I have a choice?” I asked sarcastic. “Just please, please, please don’t drink to much tonight and don’t embarrass me like you always do when your drunk.“ I add leaning my head to the side.

“Is that all you're asking?” Ferran questioned, the grin growing wider. I rolled my eyes at him, “Yes, that's all I'm asking," I replied. “Just please, don't get too drunk tonight. You have important interviews to do”

“I'll try my best,” Ferran promised with a chuckle, giving you a playful salute.

”Just try,” I repeated. “You know how much of a pain it is for me to help you to the car with your teammates.”

“I know, I know,” Ferran said, letting out a sigh. He wanted to tell me that he didn't need my help, but he knew he couldn't do it alone. He hated admitting it, but he needed me more than he would ever admit.

An hour pass by and Ferran couldn’t stop talking making me wanna fall asleep right there.

“By the way, I heard that you’re maybe leaving soon for another club. Would be lovely if the rumors were true for once.” Ferran said, a smug smile plastered on his face.

Well that just took a fucking turn, I thought for myself before answering. “Well Torres I have bad news for you I’m not going anywhere so you can keep dreaming”

Ferran's smile only grew wider at my response, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Really now? You're not leaving?” He repeated, his voice laced with fake disappointment. “That's too bad, I was really looking forward to not having to deal with your attitude on a daily basis.” He chuckled to himself, clearly finding my reaction hilarious.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but I pretty sure that this is my office, and you just came in here”

“Yeah, I know. I'm in your territory” Ferran said with a wave of his hand.

“But hey, let's be real. This place could use a bit of my charm.” He grinned, walking further into the room as if he owned the place.

I groan pinching the bridge of my nose. “Just get out I already have to deal with you at this charity event”

"I'll be sure to make it worth your while," he said with a wink before turning and leaving the room, leaving me alone with my annoyance.

The room was packed and loud, making navigation difficult in my tight heels. I squeezed through the bustling crowd towards the couches, feet aching with each step.

Reaching the couches, I practically collapsed onto the plush cushions with relief. Leaning down, I massaged one sore foot gently. Moments later, the cushion dipped beside me though I didn't bother to look over.

A familiar voice spoke up over the din. “Hard night already?”

I turned tiredly to see Ferran grinning from inches away. “You have no idea,” I sighed, not in the mood for small talk.

It felt like it only got louder and louder for every minute that passed by. I just wanted to go home and sleep but I knew that I couldn’t leave cause if a player got to drunk I’ll need to take care of it like always.

Ferran hadn’t moved a muscle yet but haven’t said anything either. Weird he would always say something to piss me off or just say something in general, he usually talks my head off about something i couldn’t care less about but a part of me likes having him accompanying me.

I rose from the couch, shaking out the wrinkles in my dress while Ferran also stood. ”Well I'm going to get a drink,” I said, still wondering at his unusually solicitous behavior.

”Let me come with you,” he offered with an easy smile. I must have looked surprised because Ferran's smile faltered.

”Ferran, what's going on?” I asked, furrowing my brow in confusion. ”Why are you being so...nice?”

His expression softened at my question. ”What, can't I be nice to you?” he tried to joke, but I wasn't ready to let it slide so easily.

Holding his gaze, I asked more seriously, ”Is this some kind of bet?”

Ferran shook his head earnestly. ”Why would it be a bet, Y/N?”

I sigh as i continue ”Because you're almost never this normal towards me.” We'd shared an odd push-pull dynamic from the start, with more pushing on my part to rein in his antics.

His expression soften almost like he was trying to tell me something but before he even could say anything I cleared my throat turning slightly to avoid his gaze. “Well I guess I’ll see you later tonight”

I weaved through the bustling crowd towards the bar. The surrounding noise and activity seemed to fade into the background as I slightly pushed past people.

I leaned against the bar, signaling the bartender. My exchange with Ferran had left me perplexed, and now I just wanted to unwind without further confusion.

When the bartender asked my order, I replied tiredly, “Honestly anything. I just want to loosen up a bit.” He nodded with a smile and set to mixing something.

The night's events weighed heavy in my mind. Ferran's uncharacteristic kindness was puzzling after our past rifts. I gazed absently at the sparkling bottles, trying to make sense of this shift. Had I misjudged him all along?

My drink materialized - a vibrant sour topped with berries and sparklers. Its playful colors seemed to brighten my mood a touch. I took a refreshing sip, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders.

I thanked the bartender with a smile before turning to survey the crowded room, cool glass in hand. The charity event was now in full swing, guests mingling and dancing joyously all around.

My gaze tracked idly over familiar faces, donors and colleagues alike, lost in the swirl of conversation and movement. A twinge of envy struck seeing couples embrace on the dance floor in a way work seldom allowed.

Taking a refreshing sip of my fruity cocktail, I let the bubbles tickle my senses and soothe frazzled nerves. For the first time that evening, I allowed myself to simply observe without agenda or task.

That's when I spotted Ferran across the way, engaged in lively dialog with a group. Surprise struck seeing him throw his head back in true laughter, carefree and charismatic as I'd seldom seen.

Our unlikely understanding at the bar now replayed in my mind. Perhaps there was more beneath the surface of Ferran than I'd assumed all these years. A small smile formed, carrying faint hope and intrigue in equal measure.

The night was in full swing by now, the charity event attendees thoroughly enjoying all the festivities. I, however, was feeling utterly spent after hours of circulating and making pleasant small talk.

My feet ached dreadfully in the confining heels, each step sending jolts of pain up my legs. All I wanted was to remove the torture devices and prop my feet up with an ice pack. But with many guests still mingling, my duties weren't done.

I felt a little tap on my shoulder making me turn to see a concerned Pablo.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, concerned by his unexpected intrusion and serious expression.

“Um, Ferran is pretty drunk and he won't stop talking about you,” Pablo explained nervously.

My stomach clenched uneasily at the news. Drunk Ferran was unpredictable at best. At worst, he could cause a disastrous scene and damage our organization's reputation.

“Take me to him,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

We found Ferran at the bar, swaying on his stool and slurring overly familiar nothings to the uncomfortable bartender. His eyes lit up childishly when he spotted me.

“There's my girl!” he exclaimed loudly, twisting to face me with outstretched arms making people around us glance over at us. He fucking promised he wouldn’t get to drunk tonight

I shot Ferran an exasperated look upon finding him in such an inebriated state, mere minutes before his big interview. Gently but firmly, I took his arm and led him toward the nearest empty room.

Once inside with the door shut, I turned to face him, hands on my hips. “Ferran are you fucking serious, you have interviews in like thirty minutes and your this drunk? You promised me”

He scoffed leaning his head back. “Why are you overreacting I’m fine. I’m fine” I groan putting an hand on my forehead. “why am I overreacting? Terran what do you think people will think of you when they see you on the interviews totally shit faced?”

“Why do you give a shit anyways?” Ferran said raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe cause it’s my job to look after you and make sure you’re not like this during interviews or games.” I was pacing back and fourth in the room thinking about what we should do.

“I’m not a child i can look after myself.” He says getting closer.

“Well you’re fucking acting like one.” Before I could process anything ferran pulled me into a kiss. His lips were warm against mine, but the suddenness caught me off-guard, sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins. When I finally managed to break apart from him, I narrowed my eyes, trying to read the inebriated man in front of me.

“Well maybe I am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want this” he slurred, his hands grabbing at my arms to pull me back in for another kiss. His breath reeked of alcohol, but there was something about it that made me feel dizzy and lightheaded.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling his head back to deepen the kiss. Ferran let out a groan, his arms wrapping around my waist to pull you closer. “I fucking hate you but I really need you,” he muttered against my lips.

“Ferran we can’t your interview starts in thirty minutes and you can’t be this shit faced” I groan against his lips.

“I don’t care, I need you.” Ferran whispers against my lips, his hands roaming over my body. I broke away from the kiss. “We can't do this here, what if someone catches us?” I whisper yell.

“Then we’ll have to be quiet,” he said, his lips trailing down my neck as he lifted me up against the wall, his hands gripping my thighs to steady me.

His hands were rough and unsteady, but it only added to the intensity of the moment. I let out a soft moan as he slid his fingers under my panties, teasing my folds with his fingers. “You're already this wet?” he murmured against your skin, his lips moving lower.

Ferran's mouth moved lower and pulled down my dress revealing my lacy bra, his lips brushing against my nipples through the fabric of my bra. He tugged at the cups, revealing my breasts as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it while his other hand continued to work its magic below.

I closed my eyes, tilting my head back against the wall as Ferran continued to ravage my body. The feeling of his mouth on my breasts and his fingers between my legs were driving me crazy.

Ferran pulled his mouth away from my breast with a wet pop, he looked up at me with blurry eyes. “I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice strained with desire.

He quickly unzips his pants and pulls out his hard, throbbing cock, not bothering to remove his shoes or tie. He grabs my thighs and lifting my leg a little higher, pressing the head of his cock against my soaked entrance. “Fuck, you're so tight,”

Ferran slides into me with a deep groan, his hand covering my mouth to silence your cries of pleasure.

I grip his shoulders with both hands, my nails digging into his skin as he starts to thrust in and out of me with a fevered urgency.

Ferran's hand remains over my mouth, muffling my screams as he pounds into me, his hips slapping against my thighs with each powerful thrust. He leans forward, pressing me against the wall as he thrusts into me hard and fast, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every stroke.

“You like that, don't you?” Ferran grunts, his breath hot against my cheek. “You like being fucked hard against the wall like a little slut?” He can feel my nails digging deeper into his shoulders as I nod in response.

He takes his hand away from my mouth and grabs my hips, using them as leverage to thrust even deeper inside me. “You're so fucking tight, so wet,” he growls, his eyes locked on mine as he fucks me relentlessly.

My legs wrapping around his waist as he continues to fuck me against the wall. He holds me there, my back pressed against the wall as he pounds into me, his cock stretching my pussy to its limits. “I'm close baby” he softly moans out.

His thrusts becoming more erratic as he nears his climax. He can see the look on my face, my own orgasm building fast, and he's determined to come at the same time as me.

He picks up the pace even more, his hips moving with a feral intensity as he drives into me again and again. And then, with a final deep thrust, he feels his cock erupt inside me, filling me up with hot streams of cum.

Seeing Ferran climax sends me over the edge, and my body convulses with pleasure as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss washes over me.

Ferran holds you against the wall for a moment, he rides out his orgasm. Finally, he sets you back down on your feet, his arms still around your waist as he buries his face in your neck, panting heavily.

I notice as he watches as I fix my dress and bra, his eyes lingering on my breasts for a moment longer than necessary.

I chuckle and clear my throat. “ready for your interviews now?”

Ferran blinks, momentarily pulled out of his reverie. He chuckles and nods, stepping back to give me space. "Yeah, I'm ready." He says, adjusting his clothes as well. "Thanks for the...warm up."

I gave Ferran's arm a reassuring squeeze as he headed into the conference room to shower and prep. Then, acting on impulse, I rose up on tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You better not be as drunk as you were at the interview.” I said firmly but with an undertone of care."

Color rose in Ferran's face, both from drink and touch of lips. But clarity sharpened his gaze. “I won’t” he murmured sincerely

“Well I’ll see you after the interviews.” I say as I give him a playful wink, then turning and making my way back to the main building where the interviews are being held. Ferran watches me go, his eyes smoldering once again as he mentally undresses you.

I just knew that it was gonna be a long night

Srry if it’s bad but it’s like my first time writing a serious fic

Taglist: @vogrinciq @cupidsvzq