#every time he leaves for long distance a part of me lashes out at him

[parkinglothater]

i feel like ive hit a mjor reset button my life and its literally tearing me apart

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - modern!au, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, nonconsensual touching, and stalking. written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

“I’ve been thinking about us, again.”

He was barely trying to whisper, his voice loud enough to earn several pointed looks from the people around you. You’d tried to put yourself at a distance from the rest of the class, to sit in a deserted corner of the near-empty lecture hall, but he wouldn’t have cared if you were in the first row. That was something you’d had to learn quickly about him – Kunikuzushi was shameless at the best of times, actively vitriolic at the worst. Your public humiliation wasn’t just a pleasant side-effect of his company, but an active goal he was striving towards during every minute you spent together.

“You don’t have to look so worried – if I was going to break up with you, you’d know.” You kept your eyes trained on the lecturer, your expression schooled to practiced disinterest, but his voice lulled like you’d broken into tears. You felt him shift that much closer to you – his thigh pressing into yours. “I just don’t think we spend enough time together. I know, I know, we’re both busy, but still. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

You were. Just last week, you’d spent two hours locked in your bedroom closet – lights off and knees pulled into your chest – because Kuni had somehow gotten your address and decided it would be a good use of his time to loiter on your doorstep and refuse to leave until you came out. You planned your day-to-day schedule meticulously to make sure it would never bleed into his, went out of your way not to have to go where you knew he would be, but there was only so much you could do to get away from someone willing to blow off his classes and skip work just to spend the better part of a day sending you candid pictures from one of his countless burner phones. You could only be thankful he was too caught up in his own delusions to ever let his obsession turn violent. Lashing out at you for never acknowledging whatever relationship he thought you were in would be akin to admitting you didn’t have a relationship at all, he would never do that.

He took up your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You tried, weakly, to pull away from him, but he only let out a breathy chuckle, his head soon resting on your shoulder. Compared to how he’d acted when you first met – standoffish, bristly, constantly on the verge of losing his temper – he was practically a touch-starved puppy, happy so long as he could sit in your lap and bask in your attention, positive or negative.

If only you’d ever wanted a pet.

“I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say it.” Another laugh, a playful squeeze to your hand. “I think we should move in together.”

You snapped in his direction, your knees jolting against the bottom of your desk and earning a few pointed glares. After mouthing a sheepish apology, you dug your nails into the back of his hand, keeping your voice as low as possible. “Kuni, I— I don’t think that’s—”

“Don’t think it’s practical?” Predictably, he cut you off. “I knew you’d say that. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be able to find the nerve to leave your apartment.” You felt his smile against the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck as he nuzzled against you. “I’ve already handled it. By the time that moron—“ He rolled his eyes towards your professor. “—shuts up, everything should be taken care of.”

You felt something heavy and sharp drop into the pit of your stomach. “But, you don’t have a key—”

“I made myself a key a couple weeks ago – got tired of waiting for you to offer. I love you, babe, but you’re too timid for your own good.” His grin, pressed the curve of your throat. “You can thank me later on, after I’ve shown you our new place.”

His hand fell to your thigh, just a touch too high not to trigger some buried, primal instinct inside of you. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate – bolting upward and tearing yourself away from him. Your chair scaped against the tile floor, your palms slamming against the desk, and in an instant, every pair of eyes in the lecture hall were on you. The professor scowled in your direction, his ire tangible. “Do you have something to say, (L/n)?”

You opened your mouth, but your mouth was dry, your throat suddenly swollen shut. Your gaze fell back to Kuni – his smile still wide and his eyes still so, so dark.

Wordlessly, you shook your head and collapsed back into your seat. As the lecture picked back up and all concentration was returned to the front of the rom, Kuni latched onto you once again, his hold twice as strong and twice as suffocating as it had been.

It was almost a comfort to know that, this time, there wasn’t anything you could do to get away from him.

[winterrrnight]

writing more on this at 12.42 am at night cause I am really in my feels and I need this so bad… <3 listen to redbone by childish gambino at 3.47, trust me <3 cw: smoking weed, suggestive content (no actual smut, just a lot of intimacy), intentional use of lower case <3 for @congratsloserr <3 (ily bb 🌷) <3 pictures are just for reference and to help you imagine what I have in mind!

part of this little universe <3

you don’t remember how it happened.

your best friend rafe came over like all the other times he comes over at your place. you sit next to each other in your bed as you play music, just like all the other times. you both share a joint, just like all the other times.

but this time, there’s something different in the air. maybe it’s the new cologne he’s started wearing which is taking a toll over your brain, or maybe it’s the white t-shirt showing off his formed biceps, or maybe it’s the dim, pink lighting of the led lights you just installed; but whatever it is, here you are, sitting in his lap with your legs on either side of his waist, your face nuzzled in his neck, and the sensual instrumentals of redbone are filling the background.

if anything, it’s only elevating the moment more and more. the joint hangs limply in between rafe’s lips as his head remains tilted to the other side, his eyes closed as your lips press soft, saccharine kisses to his heated skin, your hands holding his face. his eyes remain closed, the current moment heightened not only from your deeply intimate touch, but from the thc hazing his and your mind.

his hands remain firmly planted at the sides of your waist, lifting your t-shirt up just a bit so he can feel that soft skin under his touch. deep exhales leave his nose, the pungent, skunky odor of weed surrounding you both in its cloud as you remain wrapped up in the moment.

his fingers press into your skin and a sigh escapes him as he feels your lips slowly travel to his throat, his head leaning back against the headboard to grant you as much skin as he can. your lips trail up and up, finding his chiseled jawline as you press kisses along the strong bone, making your way up to his cheek, and then finally his lips.

you hover over his lips for a second, gently tracing his bottom lip with your thumb and he looks at you through his lashes, your gentle touch being just about the best thing at the moment as the thc creeps more and more into his brain.

you slot the joint in his lips between your index and middle finger and slowly slide it out of his mouth, before letting your own lips wrap around the end. you take a deep, long drag and flutter your eyes shut as you throw your head back, letting the smoke roll off your lips.

rafe watches you, so entranced by every movement of yours, and the melody of redbone only makes him crave more and more. you bring your head back to his level, meeting your own dreamy gaze with his as you pull the joint out of your mouth, and lean in closer to him.

there is merely a few inches of distance between you two, and he knows he can’t control himself anymore; causing him to push his lips against yours. you adjust yourself in his lap so you’re even closer to him, your fingers gently circling his shoulders through his t-shirt as your lips slowly move against his, the taste of the mint lip balm he always uses along with the weed spilling onto your own tongue, sending you in a high beyond euphoric than the one provided by a simple blunt.

— —

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my writing is really a social experiment lately as I’m trying out different things, so any sorts of feedback is really highly appreciated!! <3

[gaysindistress]

Limits of a Fae Heart - one

All ive been reading is ACOTAR fics for the last 9 days so here’s a lil something for our shadow baby boy Az. two | three | four | five | six

“We’ll take it from here,” a rich smoky voice calls from behind me. The two sentinels shuffles around, nervous with this new arrival and both reach for the swords strapped to their hips. I look over my shoulder to see a shadowy figure emerging from the treeline. From this distance, all I can tell is that it’s a towering form blurred by a vaporous mist that blends in with the darkness around us. A shiver pricks up my spine at the sight of the mist as memories of the King of Hybern’s men chasing me come flooding back. They never spoke to me, only jeering and laughing, so I know that this figure isn’t one of them but the fear still finds a home in my stomach.

My hand itches to reach for the black blade I used to wear but there’s nothing. I have no weapons and am only clothed in a thin white nightgown, making me feel vulnerable in a way that I detest. All I have is my body language and my words so I straighten my back and square my shoulders before turning to face the figure.

“Stop where you are. You are not welcome here,” the taller sentinel shouts to the shadowy figure and it stills a few feet from me.

I can’t see much without the sun but the lightning illuminates enough for me. The first thing I see is the small smirk that plays on parted pink lips, revealing straight white teeth.

“I am welcome anywhere that I please,” that stupidly smooth voice response and my eyes tear away from the lips to meet a pair of stunning hazel eyes that I will never forget. From beneath long lashes, the most soul piercing eyes make me their sole focus. In them green outer rings fade into golden brown pools that reminds me of the trees back home. Something about them warms the freeze that’s set into my body while also setting off every alarm bell inside of my head.

“Leave before we escort you back to your court of nightmares,” the sentinel shouts again but neither the figure nor I acknowledge her.

The figure takes another step towards me so I can see more of him as the sky streaks with more flashes of lightening. My eyes fall to the ground from the bright light and they land on his feet. Black leather boots cling to his legs while leathery scales act as a second skin and protect every inch of his body. He’s wearing Illyrian fighting leathers.

The recognition of my people’s armor stings worse than it did when I was cut down.

His skin is a golden tan, only furthering my suspicion that he’s Illyrian but the massive wings that sprout from his back are the true indicator. I pry my eyes from them and continue to take in every detail as I reach his face. Short dark hair falls over his forehead and curls over his ears as the sharpness of his face becomes too perfect. He is tall and sculpted, honed muscles seem to make up his entire body. Everything about him is too perfect, too sculptured, too attractive. The hair on the back of my neck stands on high alert and I find myself backing away from him without realizing.

The sentinel voice breaks my trance, “Shadowsinger, leave at once.”

His smirk turns into a devastatingly beautiful smile at the mention of his name as his eyes shift over to the men but they find me again within seconds.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Y/N,” he says to me and me alone. Once again a hand is offered to me but this time I want to take it and I almost would have if someone hadn’t seized me from behind. I let out a shout, albeit cracked from being silent so long and struggle against the strong arms that encircle me.

“Quiet, we’re helping you,” a low male voice whispers into my ear.

“Don’t move,” he mutters to me and pulls me further away as the sentinels frantically look between the two Illyrian males and me.

“Hold onto me,” he instructs as he flares his wings out and spins me so we’re chest to chest. This male has the same hazel eyes and tan skin as the other but there’s a roughness to him. He winks at me, no doubt teasing me for staring and then he shoots up into the sky. He takes us high above the island that I must have been buried on and only stops to hover when we are a safe distance away. Below us, the sentinels and the other male are but specks of light and dark.

A flash of lightening strikes close to us and the male holding me curses under his breath. He mutters an apology to me before we’re encased in a cloud of black mist and my knees meet cold stone floors. I tumble out of his arms, gasping for air and gagging all at once. His muffled chuckle makes me more angry than I am sick and I clamor to my feet. Searching for something to use as a weapon, I find a vase on a nearby table and hurdle it at him. He ducks and the other male appears behind him, subsequently being hit with the vase. He’s able to cover his face and it shatters on his forearms, sending shards of clay everywhere.

A third male voice calls out, “I specifically remember telling you to not piss her off, Cassian.”

A shudder races across my body at the sound of his voice. The High Lord of the Night Court comes to stand beside the rough male, Cassian while the other, the one the sentinels called the Shadowsinger brushes off hits of clay.

“I didn’t do anything,” Cassian says with his hands held up in defense and shakes his head. “We willowed here and she probably got sick, hence throwing the vase.”

The High Lord arches a dark brow and turns to the other male, “what about you, Azriel?”

Azriel.

The Shadowsinger. He is name is Azriel.

Now I can see that the black vapor around him are really shadows, twisting and moving around his body. They reach towards me as a hum begins to vibrate in deep inside the void of my chest. Long ago a similar hum lived there but the male it was tied to had done terrible things and destroyed it. The golden warmth that once filled me was stolen when he betrayed me and left me to bleed out on that island.

I narrow my eyes at the shadows and Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, causing them to flinch away. Rhysand glances between us, obviously sensing the internal conflict happening between us and opens his mouth to speak.

“You should’ve left me alone,” I hiss before he can say anything.

Azriel stiffens and Cassian steps closer to him. Rhysand clears his throat and speaks, “we need your help.”

“Whatever trivial matter you’ve gotten yourself tangled in isn’t any of my concern. You should’ve left me alone on that island.”

“You were stuck between…” Rhysand tries again but I interpret him.

“I may have been stuck between this life and the next but at least I wouldn’t have been mates with yet another male who just wants to use me.”

Azriel blinks slowly at me and his jaw tightens at my words. Cassian and Rhysand both draw in sharp breaths. They shoot confused glances to each other before Cassian grabs ahold of Azriel and attempts to drag him away.

Rhysand steps towards me, placing himself between me and his brothers. His voice is quiet and softer than I expected as he asks, “You have a second mate?”

I don’t answer but my fleeting glance to the silent male behind him is enough.

“Impossible,” he mumbles under his breath with a shake of his head. His piercing violet eyes find mine, searching my hallow ones. “That’s impossible.”

[mountainsandmayhem]

Right Person, Wrong Time

Joel Miler x Female Reader

AN: This is for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge. And for once, I did not write smut. I know, who am I? This is not beta'd or really proof read. I'm basically having imposter syndrome over the whole thing soooo...Love you, say it back, bye!

You know that famous saying, “Right Person, Wrong Time”? Well, that was Joel Miller. He had the potential to be the absolute love of your life, but as a single father to a teenage girl and a small business owner, he just didn’t have the time right now. You were about to turn thirty, him thirty six in just a few days time. So, the night before his birthday you made the gut wrenching decision to end things with him. 

“What do you mean we should see other people? There’s no other people.” He proclaimed, eyes filling with tears, mirroring yours.

“It’s just not the right time. I want to get married and have a baby, Joel. Do you really want that?” You have to remain strong, it had only been three months, you hadn’t met Sarah or any of his family. Same with your side, he knew about your sisters but no one else was at risk of being hurt by this break up outside of the two of you. This was the right thing to do before you both got in too deep.

Right Person, Wrong Time.

Almost twenty five years later and you still find yourself replaying that conversation. Every September, Joel flashes behind your eyelids - still perfectly clear, almost like it had just happened yesterday. Dark curly hair, patchy scruff, big brown eyes and furrowed brows; one day he’s going to have a permanent crease between them from all his sexy scowling. If you focus hard enough, you can feel his rough and calloused fingers on your skin. You can still hear his deep and silky voice, almost managing to make you feel lighter every time he said your name or called you darlin’ or sweetheart.

“That feel good, Darlin’?”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

The outbreak happened not even 24 hours after you broke up with him. Had he survived? There’s no way you survived and he didn’t. Your suspicions were confirmed the day Tommy Miller showed up.

For the most part you liked to keep to yourself, running the community garden. You’re thankful for the small and safe community, but word gets around. And when you hear that Tommy’s brother has come to town you shrink even further back into the shadows, unsure if you want to see him again. Would it hurt more if he remembered you, or if he had no memory of you and that conversation that has imprinted itself upon you? Joel Miller is your last memory, both happy and sad, before the world fell apart. 

Him, and the little girl he showed up with, left before you found the courage to approach him and soon winter took over Jackson, leaving you without the garden. Without the distraction from your thoughts of Joel.

The winter is long and brutal. April finally rolls around, and you trudge out into the rain and head to the dining hall for dinner. The gates open in the distance, but you’re lost in your own thoughts. This is more rain than you have seen in months. The garden is going to love it, you think. Just as you’re about to step up the creaky wooden steps you hear your name. It floats across the commune in a deep, gravelly, and oh so familiar voice.

You stop, tears flooding your lash line and the mud squeaking under your rubber boots as you turn to look at him through glassy eyes. Your lips part and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. The world around you melts away. All you can see and hear is Joel Miller. He’s aged, grey peppers his temples and facial hair, he has those lines that you knew he would permanently etched between his brows, but those big brown eyes are like they’ve been frozen in time as they dance around your face.

“It’s you,” he says softly, voice shaking in a mix of sadness and relief, as he takes a few steps towards you. “I-I can’t believe it. I’ve, well…” He rakes his fingers through his soaked curls as you stare at him. The rain is coming down in a steady sheet, the ground becoming a muddy mess, and both of your clothes completely soaked through. You haven’t taken a breath in what feels like hours. 

It’s you.

“I have thought about you almost every day since the world fell apart,” he continues, his warm voice washing over you like molasses. “When I was at my lowest I would think of that little dimple you get when you smile, or that time wine came out of your nose from when you laughed at that stupid joke I made. I don’t remember the joke, but I remember how happy you looked as the sun set and the orange glow lit your skin. I’d remember the way your face scrunched up when you tried whiskey for the first time. I would remember where all your freckles are, and how soft you were against my lips as I kissed every single one. I’d think of that first time we made love, how I’d never felt that overwhelmed with emotion for another person before, how in that moment I realized that I was truly fucked when it came to you. It was anything you wanted, sweetheart. Even if it meant you wanted to break up. I never should have let you go, darin’. I’m so sorry. I tried to find you before we fled for Boston.”

By the time he’s done talking you’re right in front of him, chest grazing his, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. You have no idea how you got that close to him. You don’t remember moving your feet. Joel Miller, your Joel Miller. Greyer, lines around his eyes, but yours.

As the rain pelts down you waste no time, reaching up around his neck as he lifts you up and into his embrace. Your noses graze as you whisper a quiet ‘I missed you so much’ into his lips. 

“I’m never letting you go, baby. Never again.” He says and then you press your lips into his in a searing kiss. It lights your whole body on fire, you feel like you’ve been hit by a defibrillator. 

You’re alive again.

====================

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[portgasdwrld]

📞Wait a minute while I make you mine part.4(final)

Featuring: Ace x F!reader

Warning: NSFW content, MINORS DNI !!!

Note: I’m back I’m sorry 👩🏻‍💻idk if I hate writing smut because it takes me so much time, or because I wish IRL men were like this.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

4.Giving up

Ace looked at you as he expected some sort of words to exit his mouth. Every of his heartbeat felt closer to death to him as his mind rushed with thoughts he has been having of you. He was put on the spot and Ace couldn't find a way to portray his emotions to you in words or actions, tell you exactly why his heart always felt warmer near you. Faced to your question, his basic ability to speech were gone.

-What do you mean?

It was the best thing he could let out. His heart was beating fast as he watched your features change to a defeated smile that covered your lips. His hand reached the back of his head where he let it slide back to his jawline, to finally let it fall back to his side.

-I don't know Ace? Do I really need to be more direct than this. I just don't know how to feel about you anymore..

You replied with a dry chuckle, your eyes flickered to his figure. His heart winced at your words. Were you mad because of the stunt Enya pulled? It wasn't your type to get jealous over someone or even show you care. You never did with him or with anyone so what could've possible happened to make you switch your behavior.

-I'm not sure I truly grasp the situation, y/n.

-Ugh, you can be so dense.

You exhaled as you stand up and face him. You sighed in frustration as you walked towards him with your heels in one hand. You pulled your short dress down and pushed your hair out of your face. Eyelashes a little wet from the slight crying, you looked up to him and quickly bit your lips.

-Listen, dumb fire boy. I like you and a part of me hate to admit it, but here it is, you do what you want with this information.

You admit through your lashes. Ace watched you closely with lips parted, surprised by your sudden confession. Your gaze shifted from his eyes to the red lipstick's mark left on his neck. You trailed it with the edge of your fingers, before brushing it with your thumb, smudging it away from his skin.

-..And honestly I hate seeing other persons leave marks on your body if it's not me

Ace surprised expression quickly changed into the familiar cocky grin you were so familiar to. He closed the distance between you two and tilted his face down. His breath brushed your nose as you felt his fingers softly grip your waist.

-So, you like me, huh?

You roll your eyes as a smile curved your lips. Your eyes flickered to his lips for a quick second and back to his brown eyes as you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck.

-Yeah... I like you … very much.

You let in a shaky whisper as your own nervousness was now difficult to hide. He slightly giggled and his eyes stared at you for a moment, enjoying the proximity of your body after imagining it for so long. You were so pretty to his eyes.

-I like you too

-Then, just kiss me already

And without missing any time, Ace pressed his lips against yours. The earning you two had for each other for such a long time was clearly being shown through the kiss, it was bit rough but still sensual. Ace's hands travelled down to your hips and butt as he brought you closer to him. Your fingers interlocking with his darks locks as you barely pulled them, it left him grunting in your mouth. You wanted more, he wanted more.

-fuck.. I can't get enough of you

He panted between the wet kisses interchanged between y'all lips. You let one hand slide to his nude chest as the other cupped the side-end of his jawline. You didn't even want to hide that your need for him was almost unbearable at the moment.

-Ace.. I need you.

As if he was only waiting for you to say those words, he quickly pulled you towards one of the long chairs where he sat and brought you down to his laps. You hovered over him and his hands directly went on your ass where he grabbed it earning a gasp from your lips. But, he didn't even let you react properly as he dived back into kissing you more hungrily than ever by grabbing the back of your head with one of his hands.

-Ace you're not going to fuck me here, aren't you?

You ask pushing him away with your two hands pressed on his chest. He laid back and looked at you with a challenging smirk.

-Whos going to see anyway, its so dark out here

-Ace...

He slapped your ass making you gasp once again. You stared at him defeated by his totally nonchalant and shameless behavior.

-Since, when did I ever care about that. I'm a pirate baby.

He concluded the "conversation" by pulling your wrist towards him so your body fell on his, once again. He cupped your cheeks with one hand as the other pushed away the few strands of hair on your face.

-Is it fine with you sweetheart?

You took a big breath. At this point you didn't even care because you felt so wet and you desperately needed release no matter what. You looked down at his eyes and smirked as you pecked his lips.

-Yeah, it's more fun this way

He smirked right back and adjusted his position, but thrusted into you in the process. His growing hard bulge brushing against your wet core, made you moan , a moan that you quickly tried to conceal with your hand.

-Don't do that

He whispered into your ears, nibbling on your neck. sucking your skin while you started to grind against him.

-I don't want people to hea-

You quickly got cut off with a moan escaping your lips as he intentionally pushed his hips up again. You quickly glared at him as you watched a cocky smirk grow on his face. You rolled your eyes and lightly pulled some of his hair intertwined between your fingers. He chuckled and gave your collarbone a last kiss before he looked up at you with the same shitty confident grin.

-Be vocal, I like it

He said smiling while playing with your ass and jiggling it in his hands. You looked at him almost speechless at his incredibly laidback attitude. You would never believe that he has touched himself multiple of times imagining you on top of him, fucking you or you sucking him off, that he was eager to feel you around him.

-Alright, as much I want us to take our time, let's hurry. Need some prep, angel?

-What happened to your "I don't care who see us" bs?

You asked with a cocked eyebrow as you felt him slide his digits under your panties. He pushed your panties to the side as he let his fingers get coated by your wetness. You gripped his shoulders as you pushed your body forward, inviting him to push them inside.

-I take this as a no?

-Acee, stop being a tease.

You whined as you let your head rest on the crook on his neck. You felt his torso vibrating against your arms as he giggled at your whines. He pushed two of his fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in the perfect needed pace.

-Fuck..

You sighed as you felt your pleasure slowly building up. He quickened the pace, making his fingers roughly hit your sweet spot as your juices ran down his hand.

-So good to me, you want my cock sweetheart

-Yes, please

-What do you want baby? Use your words

-I want your cock Ace, please

He pulled out his fingers bringing them over to his mouth where he quickly sucked away the juice and opened his belt.

-Wait, let me do that

He put his hands back on your hips as he watched you do your thing. You sat a little over his knees and unzipped his shorts. You took his already hard dick in your hands, smearing the pre-cum on the tip. You leaned over him, kissing his lips as you stroke his length. His hands cupped your face as he deepened the kiss by pushing his tongue in your mouth. Drool all over y'all faces and his dick twitching in your hand, you got closer to him angling his tip closer to your hole. You slowly sank down, earning both of you to moan in each others mouth. Ace finally let go to catch his breath, his head resting on the back of the chair.

-You feel so good, fuck

He let you some time to get used to his dick inside of you before he started to move slowly his hips. You sighed as the fullness he provided you, was enough to make you easily build up the pleasure you had earlier with his fingers. You closed your eyes as you once again rest your head on his chest.

-You're okay baby?

He asked making sure as he softly caressed your head. You nodded and with that he adjusted his position to have a better angle to thrust in you. He was slow at first, but he gradually caught up the pace. You started to move your hips along with his to add more friction. The sound of your bodies loving each other quickly filled the empty quiet space. You unintentionally bit his chest to muffle a loud moan when his dick hit a perfect spot.

-Hey...what did I say earlier..

You couldn't even talk back as you were simply too focused with the feeling of his dick hitting you so good inside, the way his thumb rubbed against your clit and how his other hand was gripping your ass.

-Can't ..even talk h-huh?

He teases in a shaky voice before letting a groan out. He loved feeling your breast rubbing against his chest and your ass clapping against his shorts as it moved up and down. With the rush of adrenaline of possibly being caught and fucking outside, he felt like he was almost over the edge already.

-Ace...I'm so close, faster please

He moved faster, controlling now your hips pace too. Your nails dug into his shoulders as a last stroke accompanied with his thumb pressed slightly against your clit, made you release all over his dick. You screamed his name, your body shaking in his hold as he thrusted harder and faster to reach his own high, cumming inside of you. You two were panting hard as Ace fingers were brushing up and down your back.

-My legs feel numb...

You pant as you looked up to him. He opened his eyes to stare at your eyes, before you two chuckled.

-It's fine, ima take care of you after we get back to the ship. i just need to catch my breath.

A comfortable silence set as you let your head fall on his chest, hearing his quick heartbeat.

-You came inside huh

-Yeah, sorry about that-

-It's fine, im on the pill dirty ass.

-Dirty ass??

-Yeah??It will be dripping down my legs when we walk back to the ship, gross.

-Oh..., didn't think about that. Ima carry you, don't worry.

-Thanks

Ace smiled to himself enjoying your presence and the moment. His hand was still caressing your back.

-Soooo ...we are going out now?

-That's a stupid question

-Okay mister-super-dense

He laughed as he remembered the early scene where he was totally confused to your indirect confession. He kissed your forehead, loving how your eyes glittered when they stared into his.

-Yeah, yeah whatever.... but yes, I can finally call you mine

[jaehymrk]

you are losing me.

jude bellingham x fem!reader. angst authornote: whatever this was, angst. it is not the best, but i did it for my own sad life, thank you for reading. <3

It is not the first time you have been in a relationship. There were plenty that left and plenty you left yet there was a string of hope that bloomed with Jude, you felt this man, with all the hardship, it was the endgame for you.

With every moment with him where you laughed, smiled, and cried pierced into your mind as you stomped your way through the building he was sharing in England before returning back to Madrid.

The humiliation that burnt on your throat only ranged worse in every bitter minute. Tear filled in your eyes as you slammed his door open, ignoring all the greetings that were given to you in the hallway. "You cannot fucking do that to me." You laughed dryly, feet dragging toward him.

Jude stood in front of you, eyes scanning the room to see of his teammates lurking around. Glancing the face you missed so dearly while he was away. You shut your eyes not wanting to lash out, while you clenched your hand to resist touching him, to feel the man on your skin.

"Give me a reason," You asked stepping out from his boundaries. He stood in utter silence. His eyes soften as it landed on your eyes that were staring at his, that were begging his. He sighed still not giving you a word.

You nodded your head, "Alright, give me a fucking excuse." You screamed, hands on your hip in frustration on the man who broke you off through a simple text. You scoffed rushing your hand through your hair on the absurd situation.

Jude had explanations dancing on his tongue yet how stupid would he sound if he said out loud that his feelings were starting to become a burden, that he has no capability to put you or this relationship before his career and how not being around you has become a habit that with you, Jude has nothing to offer but meaningless words.

Yet his heart twitched seeing your eyes in tears that he caused, trembling lips he once kissed, and loved is now sobbing cries; and it is all him.

You nodded, "I understand distance is too much for you but we talked this through before, did we not?" You asked, pleaded for Jude to speak saying he did not mean it, to assure you he is not going anywhere, to hold you in his embrace.

"We have done this distance before and we were doing well."

"And for how long will we keep doing that?" He spoke loudly.

His voice crushed your heart on how much he was bringing himself to reason out this with you. With his eyes, it crushed your heart harder as for the first time, you saw the tiredness hiding in his eyes, the light for you getting dimmer. You smiled sadly, accepting his words and every meaning behind that did not leave his lips but pinched through your heart.

Jude has given up on you.

"See it was not that hard, was it?" You dryly chuckled, stepping further away from him. Jude reached out for you only for you to reject his touch. He has lost his rights on you, on each part of you.

"This would not have happened if you could have just explained yourself properly through your fucking text," You hissed at the man in anger, there were no reason for you to hold onto the brick of anger in pain. "Fuck, I am just standing here like a fucking fool in front of a man who does not even love me anymore."

Jude stared sternly. "Watch your fucking words."

"Am I wrong though?" You challenged.

Jude wanted to scream out, to agree that you were wrong, oh, he just wanted to hold you, hold you so much, to deny that he does not love you anymore, he does. He wanted to go down on his knees and ask for your forgiveness; but what can he offer you after?

Again, with nothing, he stood there. "Fuck you and your fuckass attitude." You shook your head in disbelief.

Sighing, you decided to walk out.

"If I still love you, what would happen next?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Frustrated with himself, with you, with this relationship that he has risked out for the sake of letting you go that he was really doing it for himself.

"Then we fight for this fucking relationship, jude. This is what we do when we decide to love each other earnestly, did we not?" You grieved out, reasoning out to fight, fucking fight for you.

Jude answered in silence.

You paused your footsteps outside the door, "I am giving you one more chance. Tell me we can do this together and I will forgive you." You screamed for him to hear, your back facing him. Tears free flowing down your cheeks.

"Jude, please." please, please please.

Pathetically you tried, "If I crossed this fucking door, I will never take you back, I will forget about you, I will . . never ask about you. So, just do not let me leave please."

Jude sat down on his couch, tears trippled down his cheeks as no words left his lips.

Pathetically you tried one last time, screaming, not caring who is out there to listen. "Do not ever show me your face, never."

"Denise, hi." You waved cheerfully in front of the Bellingham door with your fuzzy hat secured on your head and gloves on your hand. She smiled back, nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"Would you mind asking Jude to come out for awhile?" You requested, kicking the snow out from your way. In all truth, you were nervous, still nervous of her despite her apporval, "It is just, like, it is raini- hold up, not raining. I mean, snowing crazy. I just wanted to enjoy it with Jude." You giggled in uneasiness clear on your tone, endlessly touching your neck.

She glanced at you deeply. "I will ask him to come out, darling. Please, wait inside." You shook your head fiercely, there were not many confidence in you left to speak to Mark. Denise had already made her way in to notify Jude.

Hearing upon that, Jude rushed inside the shared room with Jobe, hurriedly grabbed his scarfs, mitten and a cozy hat before exiting. He saw you shivering regardless of wearing multiple layers under.

Jude rushed to embrace you from behind, spinning you around and around. You shut your eyes, giggling at your boyfriend's childish behaviour. "We will fall, babe." You whined to your boyfriend responded with more giggles leaving from him.

"Oh, we are falling, oh god, wai-" Jude laughed as he landed on the snow. You landed softly on his chest. With rosy cheeks, and red ears that were not covered enough.

You prayed for the moment to last forever but Jude has bigger dreams ahead of him that do not revolve on you anymore.

With no words exchanged, you laid on the road, Jude followed next to you. In silence, you observed the full moon up in the sky. The round moon that were as clear as your lover's eyes that stared down at you with so much love and pain.

"I am not ready to imagine how much I will miss you once you are gone but I know, I will be able to find you." You reassured the silent boy next to you. Jude did not speak, worryingly you glanced to see his eyes buried in his own tears. "Like how you will find me at the end right?" You chuckled, holding his hand tighter.

"I love you so much." He whispered, wrapping his arm around your waist burying his face on the nape of your neck. You nodded, "I know, baby. I love you too but you know, I am never going to give up on you."

You raised your hand to remove his face from your neck to look at your more closely. "Even if you break up with me, I will come running to you." He mumbled that were inaudible as you had your palm pressed on his cheeks.

"I will never do that to you." You assured.

How bittersweet that Jude Bellingham was your lover, but how fruitful that he was your first love, the lover you shamelessly stalk at the middle of the night to see more about his whereabouts, the lover you would talk about to your friends, or your acquaintances that you have experienced love that it was raw and true.

[obsessedelusional]

Dangerous Woman

paring ✦ konig x fem!reader

summary ✦ Konig can’t stand you but you know he’s full of lies. One day it hits you, you’ve never seen his face. As an attempt to make him drop his mask, you give him a hug. It awakens something inside him causing the quiet man to beg for more of your attention.

word count ✦ 4.2k

authors note ✦ the konig brain rot has been so real I need this man immediately so this is my FIRST TIME writing for him, anyways I’m not versed in the cod universe so be nice pls bc the fuck I look like know jack diddly about the military ok I’m learning ):

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡ (was obsessedmunson)

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Konig couldn’t stand you. He thought you were the most annoying person he had ever met. At least that’s what he lead everyone. You knew better though, able to see through his annoyed facade. He’s was a fairly quiet man but you enjoyed his company. Forming a tiny crush that you assumed would go nowhere with the quiet giant. Before you joined the team he was often alone. Now you’d make a point to include him in everything, dragging him along where ever you went. He pretended to hate it every time knowing damn well he longed for the knock on his door, praying that it was you to bother him.

You were the newest to the group, only part of the crew for six months. Not once had you seen under his mask. It never really crossed your mind until one day when the two of you were sat alone in the commons area. He’s sat there reading when it hits you. You have no idea what Konig looks like. You get up from where you’re sat, he looks up almost immediately watching you approach him.

“What?” He questions, eyes on you as you sit next to him on the couch.

“What’re you hiding under there?” You ask, now inches away from his masked face.

“My face.” He replies flatly, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Can I see?” You ask as your fingers graze the hem of his mask ready to pull it up if he gives you permission.

“Do not touch.” He spits, grabbing your wrist tightly. You quickly wiggle your arm out of his embrace.

“Please.” You smile, backing away.

“Nein.” He says his attention back on the book.

“Come on. Aren’t we friends? You see my face everyday it’s only fair.” You respond, trying to reason with him.

“No we’re not.” He says this too quickly, not registering the words before the come out. Immediately filled with regret but it’s too late, your face is already filled with shock.

“It’s a waste of time. Don’t bother me about it anymore.” He adds, regretting every word that leaves his mouth. He closes his book and stands up to leave but you refuse to drop the topic, following him.

“It is not a waste of time because you’re not a waste of time.” You say, still being kind to him even when he’s not. It takes a moment for your words to sink in, before he turns back and stares at you.

"Oh, really?" His eyebrows raise, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Yes really.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you care?” He questions, hoping you’ll drop it knowing you won’t.

“Because I do. I don’t think you’re nearly as scary as you present yourself as. I think you’re putting on a front so nobody can get close.” You explain, being more vulnerable than you have been with him before.

"Prove it. Make me drop the act right here and now." His gaze is unflinching, boring into you as he waits for you to do something. You two sit there in silence for a moment, looking at each other. You take him by surprise when you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his waist. Hugging him softly. He freezes for a moment, before stiffening.

"...What the h-hell are you doing?" His voice is soft, confused. You don’t respond, hugging him tighter.

“Get… off me.” He says, pushing you away. His voice is a whisper as he says it. His mind is racing, trying to understand what just happened. Only to look down at you, seeing you stood there looking up at him through your lashes causes a heat to rise inside him.

"W-Why did you... do that?" He shakes his head, slowly rubbing his neck. The warm feeling spreads through his body, as if your small gesture has awakened something within him.

“Making you drop the act.”

“I hated that.” He mutters, through gritted teeth.

“Sure you did.” You joke, tone letting him know you don’t believe him. Without warning and before he can respond, you turn to leave. He’s more confused than before, watching you go. Wishing you would stay. He decides to follow you, keeping a small distance.

"Where are you going?" His voice is filled with annoyance, but the concern for your well-being is still there - just hidden beneath layers of toughness.

“Why do you care?” You ask.

“Because I do. Just answer my question.” He says glaring at you but his voice laced with amusement.

“That’s crazy. All I had to do was give you a hug and now you’re following me around and suddenly caring.” You laugh, he doesn’t find it as funny.

"Shut up. I didn't say I cared about you-" He trails off, the words dying on his lips. Causing your smile to grow.

“Just imagine what would happen if I actually got my hands on you.” You say, tone more flirty than you had intended. You can’t see it but his face flushes a deep red.

"What... get your hands on me? What do you mean? What’re you trying to do to me?" He bites his tongue, trying to hold in the growing embarrassment.

“I don’t know. What do you want me to do?” You ask, forcing him to be the one to initiate something more.

“Get lost," he whispers. But he doesn't mean it, and you can tell. The idea of being with you, in that way, makes him uncomfortable, but excited.

“Fine. I’ll get lost.” You say before attempting to leave this situation again. He watches you walk away, noticing the sway of your hips. Those legs... those thighs. A slight pang of jealousy, and lust, shoots up his spine. A dark desire, growing within.

"Wait.” He whispers, causing your ears to perk up and stop you in your tracks.

“Yes?” You smile, facing him.

“Can we go somewhere more… private?” He asks.

“Where?”

"I don't care. Just somewhere... quiet." His hand reaches out and he slowly brushes his fingertips against your arm.

"...Please?" He begs, gaze heavy on you trying to gauge your reaction. The sight of this 6’10 quiet giant begging for you’re attention, has your stomach doing flips. So incredibly ready to make him beg more.

“Are you sure you can handle me?” You ask. Wanting him to know exactly what he’s getting himself into. Not sure if his quiet, anxious self could keep up with you.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" His question is asked with a smirk, as he tries to mask the excitement growing within his body.

"Either way, I am not scared of you." He adds, looking down on you.

“Maybe you should be.”

"And why is that?" He chuckles and you notice his eyes lingering on your figure.

“Because all it took was a hug and you folded. I’m gonna have you wrapped around my finger in no time.”

“I doubt that.” He says, crossing him arms against his chest.

“Just wait till you get a taste.” You tease, your hand playfully poking his chest.

"A t-taste.... of what?" His eyes flicker down to your mouth, as an image pops into his mind - an image of him kissing your lips. His breathing grows deep and erratic, causing him to blush furiously under his mask. Even more grateful for it in this moment.

"Y-You need to be careful what you say." He says before you can answer.

“Why? I don’t want to be careful. I know what I want.” You admit, your bluntness is taking him by surprise. He steps forward, towering over you.

"What... exactly... do you want from me?" He narrows his eyes, almost daring you to say it.

“I want to make you feel so good that you come crawling back for more.” You admit, moving closer. His body stiffens, his eyes widening in surprise. He can barely believe his ears, the blood rushing to his face.

"Y-You are..." His voice drops to a hoarse whisper, "...a very dangerous woman."

“You really want to make me feel that way?” He asks as he runs his hand through his hair, as he tries to gather his wits. You respond with a nod.

"Then... show me." His words hang in the air, as his body slowly draws closer to yours. Your eyes flicker down his form, taking in every inch of his muscles. The tension in the air rises, both of you wanting the same thing, yet neither of you daring to go the extra step forward.

“Ahh but I can’t. You won’t even take off your mask.” You say, your teasing sends chills down his spine.

"...You know exactly what you're doing to me. You’re going to make me loose all control of myself." He sighs accepting defeat.

“Just give me all the control. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

"Why should I?" He tilts his head, his eyes locking onto yours.

"What do you want me to do? Get on my knees? Beg for you?" His voice drops, becoming a quiet whisper realizing what he’s done.

“Actually now that you mention it…” You respond, biting your lip. Testing your limits with him, see how far he’ll go.

"You're evil." His voice is husky, lips trembling slightly. For some reason, he wants to give in. To do as you please.

“Beg.” You demand, voice suddenly a lot more serious than before. His face flushes, but his pride stops him from giving in to you. He clenches his teeth, struggling with everything he has not to give in to your command.

"Beg you, huh?" His voice is rough now, cracking a little. With each passing second, the idea becomes more tempting.

"And what if I... refuse?" He questions, hoping there’s another route to get what he wants out of this.

“Then we can stop this right here and go our separate ways.” You respond, flatly. His pride battles with the desire to have you. It's a losing battle, but he still tries to fight back.

"...You're bluffing." He’s looking at you, waiting for you to take it back. You don’t.

"Why would you back down?" His eyes glance at your thighs, the curves of your body. His heart is racing, breath coming in rapid gasps. The word slips out without thought.

"...Please." He whispers, barely audible.

“Can’t hear you.” You grin, knowing you’re winning this battle. He groans in frustration.

"...Please." This time he says it louder.

“Please what? I need words.”

"Please… T-Touch me." His words are soft and needy, his voice sounding shaky. The need to have you grows overwhelming. All he can think about is having you. Feeling you. Tasting you. When you don’t respond quickly enough he continues.

"Please, please," His voice drops to a whisper. He can’t even look at you as the pleas leave his mouth.

“So needy.” You tease, before grabbing his hand and leading him straight to your bedroom. Once alone you push him ever so gently onto your bed. His large frame falls, sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for further instruction. You eye him up and down before, tugging at his mask. When he doesn’t stop you, you pull it off. You stand in front of him, face to face as he sits there.

The two of you sit in silence for some time as you take in his features. His piercing blue eyes, surrounded by smudged black paint is the first thing you take notice of. Moving onto the mop of dirty blonde hair on his head, matching his thick brows. His face has a few scars, is scattered with freckles, and light stubble. The largest scar, cuts through his strong jaw and up his face. You lightly trace it with you finger, he shudders under your light touch. Nobody has touched his face in years. The feeling foreign. He looks at you, worried waiting for you to have a reaction. Whether it be negative or positive, he needs you to say anything at this point.

“You’re beautiful.” You smile, softly cupping his jaw causing him to smile and his cheeks to flush red. He stays silent, his eyes glued to your lips. Every inch that you move closer is a torment, your lips mere inches away from his now. Your breath is warm and sweet, making him want to grab you and kiss you. He wants you to have all the control though, so he begs.

"Oh god... please.” His muscles tense, every nerve in his body begging to touch you.

“Such a good boy.” You laugh softly before pressing your lips to him and finally give him what he so desperately craves. He freezes in your grasp, eyes fluttering shut. His heart beats out of his chest, every fiber of his being filled with a mix of euphoria and shame - both feeling equally delicious. His fingers dig into your hips, grasping onto you.

"Y-You can't... make me feel this way..." He mutters when you pull away to breath.

“How am I making you feel?” You question, wanting to hear all the details. His fingertips slide up your thighs and rest on your waist.

"I-I... I feel like I can't think straight anymore. Like I’m read to do whatever you ask of me." His body trembles with anticipation, eyes searching yours.

“More.. please. I need more.” He begs, his hands pulling you closer.

“So greedy already.” You tease, voice filled with satisfaction. You’ve only kissed this man and he’s desperate for more of your attention. His face is flushed, his body trembling slightly.

"Please... Don't make me wait." He moves a little closer, eyes slowly trailing over you. With out warning your lips are on his again, pushing him further onto the bed. Before you know it, your straddling his body as he lays on his back. His hands are frantic, moving up and down you. Unsure of where to begin, afraid he’s going to miss out on something. As you press your weight onto him, you can feel how hard he is for you. Mentally taking note of how big he feels, through all the layers of clothing. Both of you audibly gasp as you grind on him.

“More.” He croaks into the kiss, causing you to laugh before giving in. Kissing down his jaw, nibbling softly as you kiss down his neck. He breaths hard, a slew of words in a language you don’t understand leave his mouth. His accent heavier than normal. He’s well aware of the marks your leaving and he doesn’t care. Knowing his mask will cover them.

When you pull away, his disappointment is evident. Only to be subdued when he realizes what you’re doing. Your fingers, are reaching for the hem of your shirt. Slowly pulling it over your head. He watches in awe as you, undo the back strap of your bra. As you throw it off to the side he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for permission.

“You can….” Before you can even finish, his mouth has one of your breast licking at your nipple. His other hand is kneading at your second breast, letting your nipple pinch between his fingers. Shutting you up real quick, as you arch into his touch. Letting soft moans leave your lips that stay parted slighty as he does his work. He looks up at the sight of you enjoying yourself and he can feel himself getting more worked up, not realizing that was even possible.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, letting your nipple slip out of his mouth. You start pulling at his shirt and he helps you remove it. His chest is littered with scars you kiss so softly down his chest, letting your hands explore all this new area.

Each kiss is like a jolt of electricity, sending a rush through his body. His body trembles with every touch, barely able to keep himself still. He looks like a feral beast, trying everything in his power not to take what he desires.

"It's all yours... I'm yours... whatever you want...." His voice is hoarse, as he watches your mouth on his body. Your lips send him into a dizzying trance, his heartbeat increasing with every passing moment.

“Good boy.” You grin, focusing on his pants. His breathing grows quick and heavy, his hands clench into fists. His body trembles, as he stares intently at your actions. Watching you as you unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slowly. He fights back against his urges, trying desperately to keep control. But... he can't. You've pulled him out of his shell, bringing out a more primal side of him.

"W-What are you...?" His voice trails off as your start palming his hard on through his boxers. He groans in pleasure, letting his head fall back onto the bed. It terrifies him how much he’s enjoying this.

“I’m gonna reward you for being a good boy.” You purr, pulling his boxers down. Finally letting his cock breath. You grasp it at the base, it’s heavy as you make it stand straight up. He bites his lower lip, trying to maintain his composure.

"I... I can't handle this..." He groans, already so overwhelmed and you haven’t done anything yet. His heart races, body trembling in lust and your start to move your wrist up and down.

"What have I become?" He thinks out loud, looking down at you with his shaft in your hand. But it's too late now - his body is no longer his, it belongs to you. He bites his lower lip, unable to look away from what you’re doing to him.

"...I'm yours... do... do whatever you want.” As soon as he’s able to get those words out, you kiss his tip before swirling your tounge around it.

“Fuck.” He groans, involuntarily bucking his hips. Emitting a laughter from you, he doesn’t care because suddenly your lips part and begin to suck him off. Your cheeks hallow as you move up and down his cock. It’s too big, so your hands move around the base of shaft while your mouth focuses on the top half.

It’s taking everything in will power to not grab the back of your head and force you to take it all, not wanting to take more than your willing to give. Not wanting to do anything that would cause you to stop. After all you said he was suppose to give you full control. The two of you are making eye contact as you continue to suck. He can’t help it when his hands find your hair, just wanting to touch you. He moans as you test your gag reflex, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. His native language leaves his mouth roughly as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You gag before pulling away, your lips slick and swollen. A long string of salvia hangs from your chin and attaches to his dick. You wipe away at your chin, using that salvia to pump his shaft with your hand. Spiting all the built up salvia onto him as your continue to pump his cock.

Your swollen lips form a smile as you watch him lose himself under your touch. This giant killing machine is putty under your touch, willing to do whatever you asked of him and you were going to see just how far he’d go for you. He watches you, grunting as you continue to jack him off. Wondering what’s got you smiling, terrified but excited for what’s to come next. When you pull away, he waits. He watches as you start to pull your pants off, taking your underwear with them. They fall to the floor, he gulps as you climb back onto him.

You let your cunt rest on his cock, he shutters at the new feeling. You start rolling your hips, teasing his cock with your pussy. Moans leave your lips as it bumps your clit and teases your hole. Mentally preparing for the stretch that’s about to come. It’s not enough for him so he starts to beg again.

“Please… I need you.” Your movements have sent his heart into an emotional whirlwind. His body craves to have you.

"More..." His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are glued to your movements. You lift your body, pushing yourself up onto you knees before grabbing his cock and lining it up with your hole. Slowly sinking down, allowing him to fill you up. A hint of pain finds you as, his cock stretches you out inch by inch. You sit there for a few moments, letting your core adjust to this new reality.

He lays still, watching as his cock disappears into your cunt. Music to his ears are the groans that leave your mouth, accompanied by the wet sounds of your pussy being split. He mutters a few curse words once you’ve fully taken his full length. A few moments later, you start rolling your hips slowly. The both of you moaning at the movement, his hands finding your hips. His fingers digging into your skin. His eyes lock onto yours. Your hips move slow, painfully slow.

“I.. please….” He whimpers, desperate for more. You slow down even more, smirking. Enjoying the sight of him suffering under you.

“Words. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” You smile, moving your hips. Your hands resting on his chest to hold yourself up.

“Faster, please. I need more..” His voice breaks, as he tightens his grip around your waist. He feels like he's going insane, his mind spinning at the sensation. You give in, your pace quickens. Grinding in a relaxed rhythm, not wanting to give him it all so quickly. His hands continue to dig into hips, not wanting to let go. Pushing you deeper onto his cock. He begins bucking his own hips under you, adding to your pleasure.

Before you know it he’s begging for more. Please so easily leaving his lips, getting more comfortable begging for what he wants. As you fuck him, he’s in heaven watching your every moment. His breath is ragged while his body is trembling under your touch. Your rhythm turns more frantic as you speed up. Breathy moans leaving both of you as your tempo is unrelenting.

You let yourself lean back, your arms find his thighs as you never stop moving. You continue to fuck his cock at a brutal pace. Only now the way your leaning back giving him an ever better view. He can’t look away from the sight of your pussy, grinding so masterfully on his own cock. You can feel heat pooling in your lower back, you’re close. Needing something more to send you over the edge. You start massaging your clit, overwhelming your senses. He realizes quickly, getting more turned on at the thought of you only using him for your own pleasure. Not paying him all that much attention as your eyes shutter close, curse words leaving your lips. Your touch causing your cunt to tighten on his cock, leading him to more pleasure.

Your nerves are on fire as your fingers stay playing with your clit. Poorly holding back your moans as you can feel yourself chasing your climax. Your hips stutter, walls flutter around his cock as you come undone. The sight of you being push over the edge is enough to push him. His muscles tighten before he empties his load inside of you. Yours hips keep moving, only more lazily milking every last drop of his seed. Eventually you come to a stop, with his cock still inside you kiss him tiredly. Both of your juices mixing, dripping out of you and onto him. A mess created where the two of you are joined. Konig kisses you back, hands pulling you closer as you keep his cock warm.

—

The next morning Konig opens his eyes, and looks around to find you gone. His eyes dart around, trying to take in what happened last night. It was real, but a part of him is still in disbelief. Looking for any sign of you still being here but there isn’t any. His mind is still spinning, the events of the night playing in his mind. He groans slightly, getting out of the bed just to take in the morning sun. But he can't shake the feeling you left him, as the last remnants of last night linger. He gets a start to his day, mind racing with the worst possible reasons as to why you were gone. Maybe you regretted last night? Was he not good enough? Did you use him? You made him feel so many things, he gave you full control. And you couldn’t even be there when he woke up. He’s more confused than ever, hoping he’d see you today at some point.

[drefear]

Distance (Christina Perri)

Miguel x Reader

TW: extreme angst and sad feels, smut.

"The sun is filling up the room

And I can hear you dreaming

Do you feel the way I do right now?"

You squint at the blaring bright light shining in through your curtains. You turn over into the warm, large body next to you and feel the soft rhythmic breathing on your cheek. The feeling makes your body relax even more as you lean to snuggling into his bicep under your head. You look up through your lashes to see his beautiful, sleeping face and take a mental snapshot to burn into the backs of your eyelids,  wanting to see this memory every time you blink. Finally feeling him shift, you stiffen before moving to get out of bed. You never let yourself have these moments with him, they would ruin everything. These emotions would ruin everything, and you don’t want to lose the small piece of him that you do get to enjoy. 

"I wish we would just give up

Cause the best part is falling

Call it anything but love"

The glow of the orange screens glow across your face. That gorgeous face that Miguel adored so much, studied every second he could without you noticing. He felt you wake up today, felt you watching him, and then you moved and left without a word. That was how many mornings went. One of you would wake up and disappear without a trace, as if nothing transpired, as if you were tangled in each other the night before and trading gentle caresses as your lips refused to separate. 

You both never spoke of what was going on between you. It was just assumed, being professional and acting as if nothing was going on until one of you got desperate enough to seek sexual relief from the other. Or that’s how it started. But soon it grew into more. Longing glances, gentler touches, a lack of distance when you would talk about anything. It all showed, and everyone else could tell there was a palpable tension between you two. No one would ever know what happened at night, how Miguel’s hands would leave his own fingerprints on your thighs, and how your scent would soak into his sheets. How you’d find his hair all over your bedroom, and how relish in the way he groaned your name as you kissed his neck. 

And neither of you would ever admit that something more had blossomed, grown into a delicate flower, and now was being completely neglected. 

"And I will make sure to keep my distance

Say, "I love you," when you're not listening

And how long can we keep this up, up, up?"

The fears had begun when you started to memorize the planes of his face, the way his eyes shifted to yours when he spoke to everyone about missions, how he smelled like a bonfire and fresh musk. You realized you were in love with Miguel O’Hara. 

Miguel’s realization was around the same time, as he noticed how you liked chocolate chip cookies after a meal, that you always wore mismatched socks, and that sometimes, when you laughed fully, you hid a hint of a snort. He knew he loved you as he found these traits. 

And you both spoke to the other when they weren’t listening. The blind leading the blind, you’d watch him walk across from Sector to Sector and lean into the palm of your hand, mumbling something about his shoulders. He’d see you share your food with other spiders, and would be jealous of the way those fries got to savor the feeling of your mouth. You both soaked up the presence of one other, but only when one’s back was turned. You drank him in when he was focused on reading reports, and he admired you as you swung from platform to platform. 

"Please don't stand so close to me

I'm having trouble breathing

I'm afraid of what you'll see right now"

You never wanted him to see you as fragile, as flawed. Your skin was always glowing, make up always light and pretty, everything had to be perfect for him and you refused anything but the best when it came to him seeing you. 

He refused to let you see him weak, or fearful. He was the head of the spider society, the strongest among most, and the most terrifying. How could he ever let you see him when he was petrified? How would you react to seeing a man of science and justice cower down? 

"I give you everything I am

All my broken heart beats

Until I know you'll understand"

You both had terrible stories, people who had hurt you, events that created the people you were. His lack of family and longing for love made him jeopardize an entire universe just to experience a daughter's love. You’d lost friends and family due to your abilities, and felt the guilt of everyone tormenting you constantly, and heard the voices of those who had lost their lives due to your incompetence. You knew he could understand your situation, could sympathize with your consistent pain. He knew the same. 

But neither of you would dare utter a word about your deepest troubles. What might the other think? 

"And I will make sure to keep my distance

Say, "I love you," when you're not listening

And how long can we keep this up, up, up?"

Hushed moans and mumbles of praise echoed off of your skin, and Miguel’s heartbeat pressed against your chest, like a metronome. Gasps, pants, grunts, and curses flew around both your ears as you pleasured each other intimately. 

Under him, he leaned down to you and pressed his forehead to yours while he caught his breath. 

“...ve you.” He whispered, and you opened your eyes. 

“What?” You questioned, and he slightly shook his head. 

“I- it was nothing.” He closed off instantly and you just let him, watching him roll over and turn the light off. The darkness felt like it swallowed you whole as you replayed what he’d said in your head. 

Of course you heard it, your spider senses picked up on it, but you were surprised. No words came out of your mouth, but as he slipped out of you and fell onto his side, you traced small hearts on his skin. Not a single syllable was exchanged after that as he fell asleep, and as you turned away from him, facing your window and watching raindrops hit the glass, you felt your own raindrops slip down your cheeks from the inner turmoil you felt. The words rolled off of your tongue once you were confident he wouldn’t hear you. 

“...I love you too, Miguel.” 

You shouldn’t have been so confident, because you were wrong. 

"And I keep waiting

For you to take me"

His hands darted across the holographic keyboard on his desk as you shot a web and swung up to meet him. Silently, you dropped off a few papers and turned to leave. His hand caught your wrist and, confused, you turned to see him not even looking at you. He was just holding you there, not saying anything. But the wish was clear as day, and you slid your hand up his arm, moving to stand by his side and hold him. He bent into you, nuzzling his head into your neck as you heard the sound of a familiar video he watched constantly, and just pet his head as he pulled your smaller frame into his large one. 

"You keep waiting

To save what we have"

His hands shot out as you two fought an anomaly, yanking you out of the way as Peter ran past you both to continue wearing it down. You looked up at his face and found something on him that you’d never seen him openly express during a mission; fear. 

For a second, neither of you spoke as you stared into each other’s eyes and understood the implication of the other's emotions. The others kept fighting, swinging around as you two just stood, frozen in time and trying to decipher how to keep going without breaking the hold on one another. 

A scream seemed to shatter the glass wall you two had built in those fleeting moments and you both looked to the source of the sound, habitually falling right back into the battle. 

"So I'll make sure to keep my distance

Say, "I love you," when you're not listening

And how long can we keep this up, up, up?"

No one discussed what had happened, even though everyone saw it. As the group dispersed, you hung back to stay and maybe hopefully hear those words you’d wanted him to say to your face, to have him admit he was in love with you and to enjoy saying it back. You wanted to hear the music of his voice, taste the caramel of those feelings on your own tongue, and then savor them from his lips. 

But you were met with tense silence and his heaving back. You reached out to grasp his shoulder, to see his face, but stopped inches away as tears threatened to break through and expose your secret soft spot for him. Your heart shouted in your ribcage and threw a fit of rage, practically ricocheting off of your muscles as your breathing became shaky and painful. Squeezing your eyes shut, you turned away from him and began walking towards the exit without a single sound. Once the metal doors closed behind you as you stepped into the hall of the building, your back fell to the wall and the cries began to burst from you, loud and hoarse wails ripping through your throat as your hands and wrists pulled at the skin of your face to wipe away the evidence of your sadness. 

How did you let him worm his way into your heart? Into your soul?

“Make sure to keep my distance

Say, "I love you," when you're not listening

How long 'til we call this love, love, love?"

On the other side of the doors, the large man was sitting with his legs spread, elbows on each knee as he gasped for air. He’d been holding his breath since you’d all gotten back, holding in the sorrows and dreads he’d had flash across his mind when you’d almost gotten hurt. His lungs burned at the lack of air as he tried to hold himself together until everyone was gone. 

And then you stayed back, waiting to try and clear the confusion and mass of tension between you two. But just like him, you couldn’t do it and you left without any way of fixing these knotted strands of complicated thoughts and sentiments. His eyes were screwed shut as he heaved in oxygen like he’d just been drowning, and his hands shook as his claws refused to sink back into his skin. Lodging the talons into the skin of his own knees, he gripped himself as if to hold himself together. MIguel’s throat felt tight and began to feel numb from how he had been clenching his jaw. 

You both had been so close, yet so far, and you both refused to close the distance. 

A/N: I'm so sorry I was feeling sad and mushy and needed to write miguel being sad and mushy as well and then I thought to myself "huh. lets give it a sad ending," as if i don't do that enough already.

[slothgiirl]

a moment of softness (xiao x reader)

1.1k. fluff. established relationship.

Xiao peeled the skin off the mandarin, going around and around, leaving the peel in one piece. It was a rare day when your lover took time to lounge around with you. He needed this: time to recuperate; time to take his mind off his duties to Liyue; time when he had you all to himself. 

You bend the stalk of the sweetflower into a circle, using blades of grass to tie it together making a circlet. 

“Do you want a slice?” He looks over at you through dark lashes. Xiao’s movements are hesitant. The anxiety that he would lose this, lose you, was at the forefront of his mind.

He’s been a warrior for so long, he doesn’t know how to be anything else. He doesn’t know how to trust this won’t end badly, another tally mark added to his karmic debt. 

“Mhm,” you nod, putting the circlet down. After the spring rains, all the countryside was a riot of colour. Blue glaze lilies, clusters of rhododendron, and silk flowers were bountiful for a few short weeks. 

You lean towards him, putting the circlet down and parting your mouth.

Xiao feeds you a slice. 

His thumb brushes over your lips as you take the slice. 

The juice explodes in your mouth, entirely sweet. Spring was your favorite season. Fruit was in season. 

The flowers reminded you of making daisy chains at school during break. 

Xiao caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “How is it?”

“Sweet,” you smile adoringly at him, patting his thigh. “almost as sweet as you.”

Always easy to tease, Xiao flushes red.

You giggle, shifting even closer to him so you can kiss his cheek. “I love you.” It felt good to say. You love reminding him, you love saying the words out loud. You loved him. 

Xiao nods shakily. He cards his fingers through your hair. 

It was rare for him to say it back, such important words reserved for nights spent in his arms, words reserved for your ears only. 

“I love you Xiao,” you say again, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

He’s pliant, just for you. His breath hitches at every touch of your lips against his skin, at your hand on his shoulder. Your thumb rubs his thigh. 

You’re practically in his lap. It’s good that he’d chosen a spot away from the roads. 

“Here,” he feeds you another slice, watching you through heavy lidded eyes. 

You chew the slice. 

The juice fills your mouth. You make quick work of the pulp, swallowing it. 

Then you press your lips against Xiao’s, running your tongue against the seam of his lips. 

He’s eagerly receptive, parting his mouth. He grabs hold of your side, bunching up the fabric of your tunic in his fingers. 

You stroke your tongue against his, letting the mandarin juice flow into his mouth. 

Xiao keens under you, willing to take anything you offer. 

It was heady. Knowing how needy Xiao was for you, having a mighty adeptus completely besotted. Your heart swelled with love as you stroke his tongue against his. 

All too soon, you’re left breathless. 

Your shoulders heave as you catch your breath. You shift back, pulling away from him. 

Playfully, you ask, “was the fruit sweet?

Xiao rolls his eyes. His usual brusque demeanor doesn’t have the same effect when his lips are swollen, cheeks burning red. 

You pick up the circlet again, interweaving flowers into the sweetflower stalk. Sap leaves your fingers sticky. “Will I see you tonight?” 

“No.” 

“Why,” you prompt. 

“The rain has dislodged stones in the mountains. There are demons I must hunt down.”

You smile, “and yet you’re here.”

“I-” he pauses, looking into the distance, “I enjoy making time for you.” Xiao sighs, “and I know you worry when we do not see each other for weeks.” 

“Of course I worry,” you tell him, “and I miss you. Who else will listen to me complain about the unrealistic pottery orders. You can’t rush glazing, not even for the Tianquan. Or when someone asks for a glaze you tell them will set clear, it only looks blue, and then complains and claims you broke the contract when it’s done.” You tie another glaze lily around the circlet. It was more of a crown now. “I’ll show them the wrath of the rock.” You hired Yanfei often to deal with delusional customers. 

“Heh.” Xiao huffs, amused. 

“When you’re done dealing with demons,” you tell Xiao, “we should go swimming at Yaoguang Shore.” You knew he was loath to spend time in the populated Liyue Harbor beaches.  

As an adeptus, he drew lots of curious glances from people. 

It didn’t help that Xiao was a reserved man to begin with.

Yaoguang Shore would be better. 

“I would like that.” 

You smile, happily. You’d have to make almond tofu for dessert. That much was obvious. Zaytun peaches would make a good snack. Mint spring rolls would keep well thought given you’d be with Xiao, travel was quick. 

“There.” You finish the flower crown, placing it on your head. “What do you think?”

“You look like a dendro slime.” Xiao shakes his head at your antics. 

“Would you still love me if I was a dendro slime?”

“Unfortunately.”

You laugh, covering your hand with your mouth. Your lovers mouth tilts up, enjoying your reaction. “Xiao! It’s for one of Yun Jin’s performances. They’re doing Return of the Qilin.” Again. It was a popular opera during this time of year. “Do you want to come with me,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It didn’t matter. You just wanted to offer so Xiao would know he could come if he wanted. 

His face sours. “To Liyue Harbor?”

“Yeah,” you pat his leg. “I understand if you’d rather not.”

“I wouldn’t be entirely opposed,” Xiao cups his hand over yours, “to see an Opera with you.”

You sit with that thought, knowing him well enough. Xiao was pensive, mulling over the idea as he leans his head back, drinking in the sunlight. “Perhaps another time.”

“Alright,” you utter softly, admiring the view. He was stunning to look at. You were lucky to be with such a handsome man. You loved the way his soft hair framed his face, the planes of his jawbone, his broad shoulders you knew from experience could easily carry you. 

You sit up on your knees, leaning in to place the flower crown on his head. “There. Beautiful.”

Despite blushing, Xiao glows with your praising words. 

“Can I kiss you again?”

Xiao cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your skin softly, “you can kiss me as much as you’d like.”

Your head goes fuzzy in anticipation of spending the afternoon making out with Xiao. 

[luveline]

zombie au with Steve where he trains reader in a little hand to hand after she was nearly attacked because the thought of losing her makes him physically ill? I've been thinking about them a lot recently and I miss them

hell yeah kisses u. thanks so much for your request! ily ♥︎

When Steve wakes you up, he's neither kind nor cruel. He shakes your shoulder insistently, and you blink against the starched fabric of his jeans.

"Up," he says.

You blink some more. You've learned to accept Steve for how he is, which is, under the circumstances, sort of strict. You owe him a lot — he's kept you alive this long. You can't find it in yourself to be annoyed at him, even as he slides your face off of his leg and you get a mouthful of leaves.

"I thought we got to lie in today?" you ask drowsily. You're camping a couple of miles from the state line, waiting for signs of life.

"I know I said that, but I've been thinking, and I have some stuff I want to go over with you."

You sit up and stretch until your back clicks. Steve's already standing, folding your tarps and blankets up to stuff back in your backpacks.

"What kind of stuff?" you ask.

You like Steve more than he knows. As in, you harbour an ill-timed affection, and so getting to sleep in his lap has made you stupid. You're feeling better than you have in weeks, about as good as you'd felt when he hugged you after the hot pretzel incident. He bends at the waist and you look over his face fondly, the soft slope of his cheeks, his lashes skimming the delicate skin under his eyes.

"Self defense."

You try not to dawdle, re-lacing your shoes in a hurry and standing up to help him kick out the smouldering remains of your campfire.

"You know self-defense?"

Steve looks at you, and you get all excited because he doesn't look mad. "Not really. I'm hoping we'll learn as we go." He strokes his overgrown hair out of his eyes. "I don't want you to get cornered again."

You wince. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, don't be."

You still feel awkward. It had been a point of contempt between you both for a few tense, quiet days. You'd been cornered by a girl, a real, living girl, and she'd hit you hard and stolen your pack. Your lucky she hadn't killed you, double lucky that all she managed to steal was pudding and stale twinkies.

Steve had been so mad.

Or so you'd thought.

You'd apologised to him, unable to stand the distance between you both, and you'd cried buckets from the guilt of it all. I'm sorry, Steve. I'm stupid. I'm an idiot. I let her get the better of me.

And he'd broke, said, "That's not what's bothering me. You could have been killed."

Steve Harrington cares about you undeniably. It's maddening, and it's fuel for your misbegotten cursh.

Steve gets you across from him in a clearer part of the forest. "You gotta concentrate, okay? We need to make sure there's nothing come at us while we do this."

"I know, Steve," you say softly.

His eyes narrow at you. There's nothing mean in it. "Alright. I'm thinking we'll start with just plain old punches."

"You want me to hit you."

"Yeah. I want you to hit me well."

Everything you both know about fighting comes from Rocky II. You tuck your thumbs, try to brace your wrists as he'd done. Neither of you know the exact specifics, and you're unsure.

"Just hit me," Steve says.

"I don't want to hit you."

"I know that's not true," he jokes mildly. "Hit me. I can take it. Hit me in the chest."

You hit him. It's a love tap, really, your knuckles barely pressed to his front. He pushes your hand away. You hit him again. The force this time is enough to make him smile.

"Alright. Now hit me in the face."

You gawp at him. "Steve, I'm not gonna do that."

"It's my face or my crotch." There's a lightness behind his eyes you haven't seen for a long time. "Come on, hit me."

You genuinely can't hit him. You swing your hand toward his face and hesitate every time you close the gap.

He takes a step toward you and grabs your hand, lifting it toward his face. He presses it to his cheek. "You gotta try. I promise I can take it," he says lowly. His head tilts ever so slightly to one side. "I need to know you can hold your own."

He lets your hand go, and seems pleased when you pull it back toward your chest, gearing up. You put as much effort as your body will allow into punching him, and though you feint at the last moment, your fist connects with his cheek.

He doesn't flinch, to his credit. "Good, good job." His smile fills you from head to toe with pleasure. "Again."

You hit him again, fist slapping against his cheek with an unfortunate slap. He laughs at your shocked expression, the sound unfamiliar and sure to play on your mind for days to come.

You gear up for another punch, and this time he catches your fist in his hand and twists your arm around.

"Steve!" you yelp.

He lets you go quickly. "Did I hurt you?"

Your arm had twinged, but no. He hadn't hurt you. You square your expression and get back into position. "No. C'mon, let's go again."

You spend an hour or more like that, throwing punches, and then you swap. Steve tries to hit you, instead, and you deflect, you dodge, you redirect his hand. And despite how he'd made you really hit him, he refuses to hit you in the face, his hand stopping shy of your skin every time.

It's an admirable effort, though you don't know how effective it'll be.

He grabs a stick from the forest floor and wields it at you threateningly. "She'd cornered you because she had a knife. I know it sounds impossible, but you need to be able to knock it out of her hand. Out of anyone's hand. Don't let it touch you, okay?"

He goes for fleshy places. Your chest, your neck, your stomach. He aims for your face and you grab it on instinct, which prompts more of his impossible laughter.

"You can't do that," he denies through chuckles.

"Why?" You're sweating, hair damp and cooled with every passing breeze.

"You can't grab a knife."

"Maybe I could."

His smile fades. He holds your eyes. "Maybe you could, if you needed to. But please don't try."

You nod, breathless, and not from the exercise. "Yeah, okay."

"Are you hungry?" he asks, letting his arms fall to either side.

Steve's forehead shines in the sunlight. You resists the urge to wipe his sweat away with your sleeve. It would be so easy, to close the gap, to dote on him like you want to. But you're not sure that's what he would want, and so you don't.

"No," you say. You're always hungry these days. That question usually means, Are you starving?

"Do you want me to pin you?"

You choke on spit and breath. "What?"

He smiles and it's King Steve. "What are you thinking?" he asks, delighted. "Because we might be on different pages, lovergirl."

"Lovergirl," you repeat, dazed.

"Somebody's gonna get you up against a wall. You need to know where to aim."

Your heart pounds. You worry you've heard a footstep, turning to glance over your shoulder, but there's nobody. You and Steve alone, and he wants to pin you up against a wall and- what? Let you target practice on his crown jewels?

"Or you could pin me."

You glare at him forcefully. "You're making fun of me."

"I'm not," he says, and then, slower, "no, I'm not, I'm... Joking around."

It felt like he'd wanted to admit to something else. You're flustered and it's the apocalypse so all your senses are confused all of the time, but you think maybe, maybe, Steve might've been flirting with you.

"Okay." You throw out your arms. "Pin me."

He smirks at you. "You asked."

You let Steve pin you, and realise quickly that this isn't going to be what you'd hoped. He pushes you hard against a tree and taunts you when you can't escape, smiling and sweating. It's isn't a heated make out session or anything close, but his proud smile when you work your way out is nearly as good, and he's nice enough to help you unzip your coat when you complain of numb arms.

-

more steve zombie!au

I missed this au so much!!!!

[wroteclassicaly]

A/N: I just love being horny and angsty today, lol. This is extremely heavy content, so read at your own risk. There’s no happy ending (right now). I’m debating on making it a part of a published fic I have, but idk… we will see. Maybe I’ll just do a continuation and make it happy??

Warnings: Language, unrequited feelings, mentions of blood/injury, mentions of death, angst/tragedy without a happy ending (not in this, anyways, so be warned).

Imagine being in love with Steve. You’re there, you’ve always been there. And when you think he feels it too, when you think it’s time — that it’s okay, that you shouldn’t wait to tell him how much you care about him, how you truly feel — you hear him tell Nancy that his future has always been with her in his mind. His RV, his kiddos. And suddenly, every look he’s ever given you, every lingering touch of his hand, those nights where he held you in bed and kissed your forehead, those times when he always let you pick the movies and eat his candy, all the times you both had nightmares and climbed through one another’s windows, each and every single time you treated one another’s wounds (mental and physical) — you were seeing it through one side.

Your chest swells with heat, your throat goes dry, bones dusted to ash beneath your pulverized heart. Your ribcage is a dead zoned, tattered full of aching pressure. You can’t breathe.

You’re in love. And so is Steve, but it’s not with you.

He’s always wanted Nancy, he never got over her. And he never moved on to you.

When you went to prom, because everyone should get to, you had told him — he wished he was dancing with Nancy.

After the Russians, it was her arms he wanted solace in.

When he held your hand, it wasn’t your fingers that fit perfectly.

When you pictured losing your virginity to him, it was her he craved in his bed.

He didn’t cum with your name on his lips, not like you did with his.

And as Robin sees your eyes fill with tears when your group of four approaches Henry’s house — a look of soft recognition coats her features.

You go on, you wait for your signal, but as plans are often thwarted — you hear a ticking in the distance. You know what’s coming before it does. When he finds you, you see Max fade from his hold, in time for El to grab her. She can’t save you both, but that’s fine. She isn’t sure how you’re suddenly here, but she can sense it.

But it doesn’t matter to you, not really. You will choose Steve every time, even if he never chooses you. You will love him until you are gone, even if you take that secret to the grave. As long as he’s alive, as long as he’s okay…

Vecna’s sharp hand reaches out for you and you close your eyes as he presses in. His touch is Steve’s hand on your face, his icy voice Steve’s raspy laugh, his disgusting, burnt scent — Steve’s soft spice. It’s okay.

When your feet leave the floor, Steve is throwing his cocktail, barely able to see through his tears, his chest exploding with rage and sheer panic. Nancy attacks him after Steve and Robin. It works, but not in time. And that’s okay. You’re still breathing as you awaken, everything numb. You can barely make his silhouette out through the dried blood around your lash line. He screams for Nancy and Robin to help him, to go find someone.

And through the charred remains of Vecna, the particles this underworld carries — you still smell Steve Harrington. You reach up to caress his face, and with your last breath… everything is okay, because you love him.

// eat me paragraph //

[qingxin-dream]

“Incarnate (I)”

a/n | this is part i of iv for a little small series of angsty midnight drabbles partially influenced by pinocchio in a world where scaramouche is bound to you by fate. god it’s been such a long time since i’ve written anything, feedback is appreciated! (art credits: @/tong827038 on danbooru)

warnings | panic attack, drowning, implied death

genre | angst, soulmate au

word count | ~1k

pairing | scaramouche/wanderer x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was spring when Kabukimono first discovered his heart.

A shimmering mist surrounded the rural Inazuma island the puppet called home. Each of the dew drops reflected the sunlight in a kaleidoscopic wonder, casting colorful fractals across your features. To say the puppet was enamored with the beauty of the season of new beginnings—and of course with you—was an understatement.

The recent afternoon downpour left behind a rejuvenating scent on the gentle breeze, filling his senses with a newfound feeling of tranquility. Many of the sakura trees dotting the landscape had their blossoms taken on the wind of the spring shower. Soft petals scattered the ground like a mesmerizing pointillist painting.

You cupped your palms together, outstretched to the sky to catch a lone sakura blossom. Your companion watched you with pure fascination, taking note of how your mouth dimpled ever so slightly into a smile. The way your glossy eyes flickered to his, gazing contentedly through your thick lashes… if only you knew how bizarre it made him feel.

Every time you brushed your fingers against his as you both walked together, it was as if he forgot how to breathe. When you reached into to his iridescent veil to tuck a loose tuft of his indigo hair behind his ear, his face bloomed as red as a rose at quite the alarming pace. You made him feel like he couldn’t function without you.

Because in sacred moments just like this one, you were the reason Kabukimono’s heart pounded just a little bit harder—a welcome reminder of his humanity.

“Do you ever wonder what’s beyond the sea?” you ask the blossom in your hand, although it was more so directed to your friend. “I’d like to see it someday.”

Never had you expressed this sentiment before, drawing the puppet’s curiosity to you. He had not truly considered the world beyond the village. It was his home where his friends resided. Why would he ever want to leave when he has everything he could ever want within his grasp?

Kabukimono stepped behind you, looking over your shoulder softly at the sakura blossom. You held the little pink flower as if it carried your hopes and dreams. He could recognize the longing in the way you stared out at the rolling waves of the ocean.

If you so desired that freedom, Kabukimono promised himself that he would give it to you. He would give you everything he had if you so much as parted your lips with a hint of need.

It was difficult to comprehend for someone so new to the world like himself, but with you by his side it never seemed impossible for Kabukimono to reach for the moon, the stars, or the whole damn sky if you wished it to be.

“Then I will find a way,” promised the kind puppet. “For you.”

Your face brightened, turning to face Kabukimono with a soft smile. “Would you accompany me?”

Part of him feared this question. The puppet knew he couldn’t leave his blade smiths behind. Telling you no was more difficult than he anticipated, it tore him in two between his dear comrades and the prospect of fulfilling your dreams. How could he ever make such a decision?

In hindsight, he who formerly was known as Kabukimono would forever curse his worthless emotions for clouding his judgement.

The day you departed, your ship was swallowed whole in the distance, pumping adrenaline in its most raw form through his veins. It utterly ravaged his frail body.

To his surprise, as he rowed furiously to the remnants of the ship, his throat refused to make a sound. Amid the rush of shock, Kabukimono had let a series of unadulterated screams rip from his lungs to the point he could no longer speak.

Once he was close enough, the puppet haphazardly tossed his veil to the side and dove into the cold sea water. The absolute terror pulsing in Kabukimono’s chest clenched down on him like a vice. He couldn’t push enough water past him to reach you.

He was losing his form, once coordinated strokes devolving into frantic, desperate swipes toward your unconscious body that sunk lower and lower away from him. A plethora of air bubbles escaped from his cold lips, drowning out any efforts to call out to you.

It was a miracle that the little puppet managed to envelope his weak arms around your frame. Kabukimono peered through the dark waters to the stormy sky above that was rapidly disappearing. With every remaining ounce of strength left in his body, the puppet pulled you to the surface.

The mere sight of you in such a deathly state, your skin drained of its warmth, was forever engraved in his memory. Swimming to his boat, the erratic ocean waves repeatedly sloshed over you both, forcing water down his throat. Kabukimono winced and violently coughed, struggling to pull you with him to safety.

No, he thought. Not like this. He would never let you perish as long as he drew breath.

Yet, the periphery of the puppet’s vision was beginning to grow hazy. He was losing control of his movements, unable to hold you any tighter to his chest.

You tumbled over into the boat roughly with one last great push, rendering Kabukimono paralyzed beneath the water. He swam, kicked, and struggled to break the surface again until ultimately he succumbed to the drowsiness pulling him under. He became still, so impossibly rigid as his heart slowed.

In what Kabukimono believed to be his final moments, an unknown voice echoed eerily within the chambers of his mind and soul from the beyond. Death began to wrap its tendrils around his throat, ensnaring him against his will.

“Little puppet, bearer of suffering and sacrifice, do you wish to return to the human world? To be reborn anew?”

…

“Then so be it, Kunikuzushi.”

[to be continued… in part ii.]

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[daydreaming-in-letters]

Earth & Fire

Chapter IX - Fate

05/10/2024

Pairing: Hades (Hozier) x Anthea (OFC)

Word Count: 6,224

Warnings: language, blood (ichor), violence, cruelty, wounds, graphic descriptions, and angst, so much angst

Summary: In the battle of the gods, Anthea's fate will finally unfold.

A/N: I know I said this would be the last chapter of this story...but hear me out. It just made sense to split this part up. It is quite long already and it also seemed appropriate plot-wise to separate this part from the very last instalment.

Earth & Fire - Masterpost

Picture created with AI

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Rage was not strong enough a word to describe the feeling that rushed through him as the ether opened again and his eyes landed on his brother. It burned with unparalleled might, hotter than the fires of Tartarus and wilder than the vengeance embodied by the Erinyes. So all-consuming not even the relief that washed over him as he found he might not be too late to prevent the worst could mitigate it.

“I’m going to make you mine now, Anthea,” Zeus grunted, face buried in the crook of Anthea’s neck, “consent or not. You will be mine.”

His insides turning, Hades was forced to watch as she struggled in vain against the weight of his body that pinned her in place against the column behind her back, her hands held in his tight grip above her head, leaving her practically immobilised while his free hand groped her soft flesh. Still, her voice had not lost any of its venom as she spat her reply.

“I will never be yours.” 

Now. The time was now. And before Hades had even made a conscious decision, he had raised the bident, the dark metal splitting the air with a whooshing sound as it flew towards his unsuspecting brother. 

Zeus roared in pain as it pried his skin open, drilling deep, slicing flesh, splitting bone, all the way through his wrist until the prongs came to a halt in the marble of the column. Fresh drops of glimmering gold ran down his forearm, staining Anthea’s peplos in the most precious of colours: ichor, the blood of the gods. The All-father’s blood. 

Hades watched as she looked up in shock, fearing for a second his precision of aim might have failed him this once, but it had not. The bident had avoided her, as he had planned it to, buying her a few seconds of distraction. 

Zeus was still grunting in pain, his free hand now wrapped around the handle of his brother’s bident, pulling with all his might, and still, it did not budge. With her attacker distracted and free of the divine shackle that had bound her to the King of the Gods, Anthea seized her chance and ran. Probably following the direction the bident must have come from, she was headed straight towards Hades. She was close now, too close to stop her hurried steps in the short distance that remained and finally it dawned on him that, just like Zeus, Anthea could not see him. Taking a step to the side, his arm wrapped around her middle, the momentum turning them both around. 

With panic still guiding her every movement, she did not recognise the familiarity of her lover’s touch. Instead she kicked and lashed out at him, adamant on escaping what she thought to be yet another assailant. She was strong, much stronger than he had anticipated her to be, or maybe his strength was already beginning to dwindle so far from his own realm.

“Anthea! Anthea, it’s me.” And when she still did not stop, he lifted the helmet of his head and revealed himself to her. Staying hidden did not matter anymore, Zeus knew he was here now. The gadget had served its purpose and so he tossed it aside carelessly, his hand at last free to find Anthea’s cheek.

“It’s me, love.”

And finally she stilled in his arms upon his touch.

“Aidon?” Panicked eyes stared into his, softening slowly under his gentle caress before her arms wrapped around his neck tightly and pulled him against her trembling form.

Oh, how he wished he could stop time just to hold her like this for a while, to wait patiently and give her all the time she needed to calm down, but only a fool would have truly believed that she would be granted this mercy.

Instead he could feel her stiffen in his arms as spiteful laughter filled the air and echoed from the high temple walls that surrounded them.

“Well, well, well. Isn’t that a lovely sight! The woman I—the All-father, Ruler of the Cosmos—chose for myself and my very own backstabbing coward of a brother.” Zeus paused dramatically, probably waiting for them to turn and face him. But since the only threat he posed at the moment was the venom in his words, they stayed exactly as they were. “Did you forget you once swore your undying allegiance to me after I selflessly rescued you from our father’s belly, risking my own life in the process?”

First spiting him and then questioning his loyalty—a foreseeable move, if a little low for the Ruler of the Cosmos, as his brother had so humbly titled himself a moment ago, and still Hades felt something inside of him rise to the unfounded allegations. For now, he was able to keep his anger at bay, but he, better than anyone, knew that Zeus would not rest until his last thread of self-restraint would finally snap. 

“Not quite so selflessly, if I may jog your memory, brother,” the God of the Underworld managed to press out seemingly unfazed. “For, if I recall correctly, our mother had told you that only in union with your siblings you would be able to defeat the Titans and become the king of the gods.”

The All-father huffed. “We might remember this minor detail a little differently, as it seems. Still, it does not change the fact that there is not much left of the loyalty you proclaimed that day.”

Truthfully, Hades had never had even the slightest hope that this situation could have been solved by words, but still he chose to keep the argument going. It would buy them time, and should it come to the worst, these would be the last moments they were granted together, the last embrace they would ever share. 

“There is also not much left of the leader you promised to be.” And as much as he hated to loosen his hold on Anthea, he needed to look his brother in the eye for his next words. “As Metis once taught you, a true leader forges alliances, a true leader is admired and holds the trust of his subjects. A true leader, Zeus, is not feared but loved.”

“And what do you know of true leadership, Hades? Your subjects are all dead, mere shadows, left with no choice but to stay in your gloomy kingdom until it pleases you to release them. Do you truly believe it is admiration, trust or love that binds them to you?”

Hades could not suppress a scornful smile. “It’s painfully obvious you have no idea how things work in the Underworld, brother. But I don’t blame you. You’ve never been there, never dared to. And understandably so. Being the tyrant you are, it’s only natural to avoid anything that might weaken your power, because we both know the world is full of people ready to cut your throat, waiting patiently for an opportunity to present itself.”

Zeus eyes narrowed for a moment. “You being one of them, I suppose.” But then he seemed to remember something and a wide grin spread on his lips. “Just look at the pair of you. A god, weakened outside his own realm, and a mortal, fragile as a dried twig. Do you really think you stand a chance against me, almighty Zeus?”

“I’m afraid you leave me no choice.”

“Well, then tell me, brother, are you prepared to lose?”

“Believe me, I am prepared. I am prepared to see towers fall, empires crumble, temples obliterated. I am prepared to watch the cosmos burn if that is the only way to free it from your reign of terror. The question is, brother, are you?”

Zeus seemed unfazed by the little speech, looking around the temple as if he had not heard it at all. But then his eyes landed back on Hades and their icy stare made him shudder.

“Prepared, you mean? For you and which army? That little whore by your side side won’t be of much use, I reckon.”

Hades had known the moment was about to come, he had sensed it long before his brother had finally triggered the nerve that made him lose his composure. He was only wondering what had taken him so long. But Zeus would not leave it at that. Mere insults, however hurtful, would not win him this battle. And the fact that he knew his brother’s methods of war better than anyone was what made Hades push Anthea behind his back to shield her with his body.

“Leave Anthea out of this. This is between you and me.”

Hades had been prepared for some spiteful laughter, or even more insults to provoke him, but instead he felt the warm touch of Anthea’s hand on his arm.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, confusion clouding her voice, and he could not help but turn his head to look at her.

“Last night I told you that I loved you, didn’t I? And that means that my place is right here, between you and everyone who wants to harm you.”

There was a glint of understanding in her eyes and he hoped that it meant she would accept his protection. It was the least he could do for her. But then she smiled and stepped even further away from him until she stood right next to him.

“And I told you that I loved you as well. And that means that my place is by your side, no matter what lies ahead of us.” 

He had never seen her this serious, this determined, the fear in her eyes suddenly gone. She was ready, he knew. He had seen it many times before, in mortals and gods alike. Her soul was ready to fight, no matter how small their chances were.

He wanted to kiss her in that moment, for her bravery and her loyalty alike, but most of all for the love she held for him. He had never been loved like this. Then again, he had also never even considered giving his life for someone else. For an idea, yes, he would have gladly lost his life in the Titanomachy if it had been the sacrifice needed to end the era of the titans. But for a person, he had never been willing to put his life on the line.

But as much as he wanted to tell her that, he could not risk taking his eyes off his brother for too long. So all he could do was take her hand and squeeze it, hoping it was enough to make her understand, before he turned to face his brother again.

“Well, if this isn’t just lovely. I think the mortal chose her fate. Just like you, brother. Now, if you don’t mind.”

With a nod of his head, the All-father hinted at the bident still pinning his wrist to the column. Hades was reluctant to free him, but he did not possess the same cunning as his brother. He wanted this to be a fair fight, if a fight against Zeus could ever be considered fair. 

“Ready?” he whispered.

“Ready,” she answered, squeezing his hand once more.

And so he raised his arm in the air, willing the bident back into his open hand. His fingers had not even closed around the cold metal when a deep rumble shook the temple, the air charged up and sizzling around them. Thick lines of light blue were twisting around Zeus limbs and torso like snakes of lightning, his eyes gleaming in the same unearthly colour as he, too, raised his arm to summon his weapon. 

An ear-shattering roll of thunder preceded it, shaking the columns of the temple once more, so much so that Hades feared they might collapse and bury them alive. With a hiss something passed them by too fast for the eye to see and with another growling thunder it landed in Zeus’ hand—a golden lightning bolt, shimmering spectacularly in the light that surrounded his rippling body. 

“So long, brother!” the King of the Gods roared, the lightning bolt ready to strike.

“Run!” Hades pushed Anthea as far away as he could without hurting her, deflecting the divine weapon with his bident. He heard marble crack, its fine splinters raining down on them and yet he did not look back. Instead he ran in the direction he had pushed Anthea, finding her already heading for a column on the far side of the temple. 

“Yes! Run! Run like the cowards you are,” Zeus’ booming voice followed them, reaching their ears just as Hades had caught up with Anthea and pulled her behind the column.

“Listen carefully now, love. He will come for me first. This is your chance. When I tell you to run, you will head for the temple entrance. I will distract him long enough for you to escape.”

“Escape? Where to? We both know there is nowhere for me to run to. And besides, I won’t leave you here.”

He sighed, his eyes holding a strange mixture of admiration, affection, disbelief and resignation. And then he pulled her close, his lips meeting hers in a fervent kiss. She could taste the despair on his tongue, making her shiver as the warmth of his body disappeared and left her with the bitter aftertaste of a goodbye, maybe forever. 

From the shadows her eyes followed him as he dodged another attack, then another, sidestepping the rubble and craters left by the lightning bolt. If only he still had his helmet, without it it seemed impossible to even hope for the tiniest chance for a counterstrike. But it was nowhere to be seen among the dust and debris that filled the temple now. 

Aidon would not be able to keep up his pace forever, Zeus knew that too. He would tire eventually and slow and that would be the end of him. There was only one thing left to do now. It was their only hope. 

Anthea closed her eyes, breathing in deeply and as her feet started to move, she released the air from her lungs in a shrill battle cry that would surely draw the All-father’s attention. She could feel his gaze on her, boring into her skin like daggers of fire. She needed to be careful now, she could not let her steps falter or this would all be in vain. Eyes glued to the ground in front of her she jumped and skipped the obstacles in her way, managing to almost reach the safety of another column when his voice made her stop in her tracks.

“Are you taking me for a fool, kasalbas?” She stared at him, and he stared back, the smug grin on his lips defying her. “Watch me then.”

“No!” she screamed as she realised what he was about to do, lightning bolt rising in the air, sparks flying as it darted through the air. It seemed to be aimed straight at her, but it was not, she realised, as her love came into view. He must have started to run, coming to protect her, even before Zeus had sent the lightning bolt on its way. It had been meant for Aidon all along and now that it found its aim, Anthea felt as if the ground opened up underneath her. 

Piercing straight through him, the tip of the weapon broke through his stomach, glistening in its cover of golden ichor as if to mock her. Aidon groaned, eyes opened wide as the momentum made him stumble and fall. He collapsed right at her feet, his bident clattering to the ground beside him.

For a moment there was silence, apart from Aidon’s laboured breathing that carried a haunting wheeze, and then everything seemed to happen at once. Anthea fell to her knees beside him, wiping the hair from his face, not sure if rolling him onto his side would lessen or worsen his pain. 

“Aidon!” she sobbed, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. “Aidon, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

But she did not even get to finish her sentence before she was harshly interrupted.

“Oh Aidon,” Zeus mocked in a shrill voice, “I’m so sorry. Well, you should have thought about that before you tried to trick me, shouldn’t you?”

In her distress, Anthea had not even realised that he had left his spot at the feet of his statue and had almost reached them. From the corner of her eye she noticed Aidon move beside her. But Zeus was quicker.

“Don’t even try,” he hissed as one large foot landed on his brother’s back. Aidon groaned, the sound turning into a pain filled scream as Zeus slowly began to pull the lightning bolt out of him. 

“You’re a monster!” Anthea screamed, trying to push his foot off of Aidon’s back, but Zeus just laughed and with a flick of his wrist, he sent her sliding a few metres away on the polished marble floor. 

“A monster? Ha! You don’t get to blame me, mortal. All of this is entirely your fault. If it hadn’t been for your powers of temptation, none of this would have happened. It is your fault that my beautiful temple is lying in shambles now, it is your fault that I had to fight my own brother today and it will also be your fault that he will not live to see another day.”

Shoving the tip of his foot underneath Aidon’s motionless body, Zeus rolled him over onto his back. His eyes were closed, but Anthea could see his chest lift in uneven, shallow breaths. He must have fallen unconscious from the pain as Zeus had ripped the lightning bolt from his body. 

“Farewell, brother!” Zeus muttered, raising his lightning bolt one last time, when a heart-wrenching scream filled the wrecked temple.

In a heartbeat, Anthea stood, reaching for the bident that lay between her and the King of the Gods. It would not end here, not like this. She moved, one foot stepping across Aidon’s body, bident clutched in both hands. With a howl her arms rose in the air to block the jagged lightning bolt of the All-father. A deafening cracking sound erupted as the two weapons met, sparks flying, and Anthea felt a sharp pain rippling through her form like she had never felt before. She screamed as it took hold of her and she was sure she could feel something die inside her. But it did not simply die, it made room, room for something more, something mighty. She could feel it rise from the ground, filling her from her feet first. It felt amazing, an awakening of some sort, as if she was born anew. And with it came the voices. She could hear them, loud and clear, calling her, no, encouraging her and cursing Zeus. 

It must all have happened in the blink of an eye, but when she returned to the moment, it felt as if she had been gone for an eternity. She had not even noticed that her eyes had fallen closed, but as they snapped open now, she found that the temple lay in utter darkness. The few rays of the rising sun had blackened, the only light now coming from the lightning bolt that still sizzled above her head. No one of them had moved, still frozen in the strain of divine weapons. 

“This is impossible,” Zeus pressed out between gritted teeth. And it was only now that Anthea realised how much he was struggling. “You’re nothing but a mortal.”

You are so much more than that, Anthea. You are our daughter, a daughter of gods. Feel the ichor flowing through your veins, feel it pulse as it fills you with divine power, your birthright, your fate.

Fire—there was fire inside of her, she could feel it, it was reaching out to her, bending to her will. And with a grin, she looked up at Zeus. “Or am I?”

Marble exploded, stone shrapnel flying through the room as hot air sprang from the ground behind him, flames following in its wake. Like fountains of fire, the flames illuminated the dark temple and Zeus could not help himself but stare in utter astonishment. It was easy now to push him off. He stumbled a few steps back, but he was able to steady himself just before the flames could harm him. 

Sooner than she had anticipated, he seemed to have overcome his first shock, already opting for attack again. He was lunging at her, but Anthea did not budge. She would not run and as a consequence leave Aidon unprotected. To save his life was her sole priority now.

And just in time, she could feel the fire stir to life inside of her again. This time it collected in her upper body, filling her arms and hands with a heat that should have burned her alive and make her writhe in pain, but it did not. Instead she could feel it urging her to lift her hand, and as soon as she did, it shot straight at her attacker in neatly formed balls of fire. 

Zeus had no other chance but to abort his attack, throwing himself sideways to avert the fireballs. Once again, he seemed unharmed, apart from a few still smoking holes where the fire had singed his chiton. 

Still Anthea grinned upon her success, however small it may have been, in turn letting her guard down for nothing but a split second, still enough for Zeus to carry out his revenge. His lightning bolt whooshing through the air once more, she felt the weight of the bident being lifted out of her hand. She watched incredulously as it was carried away from her, far enough to make it impossible to reach without leaving Aidon unprotected.

With a smug smile, Zeus called his weapon back to him, something she would not be able to do with the bident as it was not her weapon. 

“Now let’s see how far your little fire tricks will get you, shall we?”

How dare he mock you. But he will bite his tongue soon enough. Fire tricks…it’s not just fire that bends to your will, my sweet child. Can you feel the ground tremble underneath your feet? It is dying to follow your command. Use your powers well, and the King of the Gods will not stand a chance against you.

Her weapons…it was her weapons against his. But what did she know about them? His lightning bolt, or Master bolt, as it was often called by his admirers had been forged in Tartarus by the cyclopses, just like Poseidon’s Trident and Aidon’s Helm of Darkness. It was a powerful weapon, some even said it was the most powerful in the whole Cosmos. But a weapon, her father had told her once, was only as strong as the being that wielded it. And Zeus surely must have his weaknesses. Using the fire’s might had worked once, so why not use it again. 

But first she needed to make sure Aidon was safe. She could not win this fight by staying put, she would have to move at some point. Calling the fire from the ground once again, she willed it to spring free in a perfect circle around Aidon and herself, the flames rising higher and higher with ease until they closed in a neatly formed dome above them. She had no idea if this was enough to protect him, but something inside of her told her that she should trust in her powers, and so she did. 

With a sigh, she knelt beside him once again. “My love,” softly she caressed his cheek. He was still breathing, if only barely so. “I need you to hold on for me just a little longer.”

She had not expected an answer, and yet the silence felt as if her heart was being ripped apart. Instead, she heard another voice, booming as always, but a little dimmed as it broke through the flames.

“Hiding again? You’re starting to bore me, kasalbas.”

Despite the fire that flowed through her veins, Anthea could feel her heart turn cold. If it was entertainment he wanted, if this was all their lives and their pain meant to him, she would give him entertainment. Slowly she rose to her feet and made her way over to the wall of flames that stood between her and the King of the Gods. Carefully she tested the fire with her fingertips, but as she had assumed, it did not burn her. And with a last look back, a last deep breath, she stepped through the flames to meet her fate.

She needed to act quickly, her plan relying heavily on the element of surprise. She only hoped that this would work. Earth and fire. Earth and fire. Earth and fire.

She tried to summon them both, there must be a way to contact them somehow. She was not entirely sure how this worked yet, the power had somehow just done what she had wanted it to do, but to call to two powers at once was not as easy. First, the fire responded. She could hear its hissing whisper inside her head, telling her it was ready to succumb to her will. The earth was a bit trickier. Yet again, it did not take long before she could feel the ground respond, trembling, shaking underneath her feet, ripping tiny cracks into the marble here and there. 

Everything was set now, it would be his doom—or hers. Either way, she was prepared to find out.

“My apologies, oh mighty Zeus,” Anthea purred, her voice sweet as honey, earning her a cautious frown from the All-father, “for boring you. Let me make it up to you.”

Once again the ground trembled, the movement growing stronger by the second until the tiny cracks that had formed before broke wide open. Fire rose from the ruptures once more, angry, hissing fountains of flames that leaned towards Zeus, eager to taste him. But he seemed unimpressed, clucking his tongue.

“With the fire again? Seriously? Is this supposed to frighten me or bore me to death? Whatever it is, it’s not working.”

Anthea did not rise to his mockery, but her will to wound him only grew with every spiteful word that left his mouth. And even if she did not utter a single word in response, he would feel her anger. She revelled in the look of utter shock on his face as the ground underneath his beloved statue simply opened up without a warning and swallowed his likeness whole before neatly closing above it again as if nothing had happened. 

“No!” he yelled as the very heart of his centre of worship vanished before his eyes and on instinct, he took a step towards the place where the statue had once stood, as right before his feet the ground opened up, forcing him to stop. With gleaming eyes that held nothing but hatred he turned to face her. 

“You little…”

“Tell me, almighty Zeus, how was that for entertainment?”

“You will pay for that,” he spat.

“And I think I paid enough already. It’s your turn now to pay for your cruelty.”

He was just about to say something, when they could both feel the heat rise from the ground. This was not the heat of mere flames that they had felt before, it was much hotter than that, forcing the sweat to break on his forehead instantly. She could feel how he was struggling to breathe properly, the scorching air burning in his lungs with every breath he took. And then his eyes went wide as the glowing red and orange light rose from the crack. On instinct he took a step back, only to find even more ruptures around himself, all lit up by the same portentous gleam as the one right in front of him. 

“Stop this at once or—”

But Anthea only smiled as she watched the lava finally spilling over the edges of the cracks. Relentlessly it rolled forwards, setting everything in its way aflame—fruit, fine meat, flowers, incense; every single offering his worshippers had made to the All-father. He howled dramatically as if the flames had rolled over him instead. This was pathetic and as much as she had started to enjoy tormenting him, there was someone else who needed her attention much more than this manchild. 

And so she sped up the flow of the lava drastically, letting it crawl up the columns and along the ceiling while it closed in on him on the ground as well. It had come dangerously close already, almost licking at his sandals when he finally did what she had hoped for. There was nothing more he could do from where he was held captive by the molten rock but ready his bolt once more. She watched him patiently, waiting for the moment when his hand would finally set it free and when it did, two thick threads of lava dropped down from the ceiling to capture it, holding it like mighty fists before they hardened around the golden metal and pinned it in place. 

Incredulously, Zeus had watched the whole procedure. Of course he would try to call it back, sure that it would break the now hardened rock and come flying back into his hands with ease. But however much he tried and strained, it did not budge. 

And then Anthea moved, the lava hardening underneath her feet with every step she took until she had reached the Master bolt, the two rocky fists holding it perfectly in place for her.

“Don’t you dare!” its owner growled, but spoken from his flaming prison, his threat held little power.

“You know what? I think I will.”

And with that a single blue flame sprang from her fingertips, making the metal glow almost white as it cut through it without meeting any resistance. Zeus roared as he watched her rip the two pieces that had once been the mightiest weapon in the Cosmos from the rocky fingers and hold them up for him to see what she had done. 

“Now to you, King of the Gods.”

Zeus’ eyes went wide once more as Anthea stepped closer. She could see it in his eyes, his next step written so clearly that it was almost too easy. He used the same gesture she had seen her father and Aidon use several times before, opening the ether with a flick of his wrist. He was about to flee the scene. And she would have let him, had this been only about him and her. But this was about so much more now.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I promise I will burn you to cinders faster than you can step through.” 

The lava around him was glowing and gurgling dangerously, not even the width of a finger between him and the deathly heat anymore. Zeus allowed himself a moment to think, probably calculating if she could make do on her threat, but then he opted for not being in the mood for finding out and closed the portal, albeit reluctantly.

Slowly she drew in on him, finding a strange satisfaction in the way he feverishly tried to find a  different way out of his misery and avoid the unavoidable. He even took an involuntary step back, burning his foot in the process and howling in pain. She was almost there, when at last he broke.

“Please,” he begged, “please, Anthea, don’t kill me. It does not have to end like this.”

Anthea stopped, looking him straight in the eyes. And when she spoke, she chose her words very carefully.

“How this is going to end, Zeus, is entirely up to you. You choose which kind of god you want to be from now on. But rest assured, whatever your choice may be, you will be held accountable for your actions from now on.”

It probably did not happen all too often that the King of the Gods found himself speechless, and judging by the look on his face, this might even be the first time his tongue had forsaken him. But to Anthea it was all the same, answer or not, he had understood her without a doubt, and that was all that mattered.

“Now leave. But rest assured that there is nowhere for you to hide should you give me any reason to come for you.”

His eyes shone with nothing but pure hatred as he spat his farewell. “You will regret this one day, kasalbas.”

“Don’t make me.” Her answer was a mere whisper, but the All-father was gone anyway, fled through the ether, hopefully not to return to her sight any time soon.

It was only now that Anthea realised how tired she was. Using all that power must have worn her out, making her sway dangerously amidst the melted rock. But with her tension slowly leaving her body, she could feel the flames die away, the lava beginning to cool and darken all around. And even though her inner voices told her to rest, she could not. Not yet. 

“Aidon,” she mumbled to herself, her feet already spinning her around, hurrying to carry her over to the spot where mere moments ago a blazing dome of fire had shielded her love from his brother’s unbridled brutality. He was still unconscious, breathing shallowly while the ichor kept flowing freely from the gaping wound in his stomach. 

She wanted to help him, take him away from here, get him to the safety of the Underworld where someone surely knew what to do, but she had no idea how. The entrance to the Underworld Hermes had taken her through must be days away, and she did not even know if Aidon had mere minutes to spare. 

There was only one way to get him home in time, and it had seemed easy enough watching others open that dark portal and stepping through. But it was something entirely different to use that power herself. 

The ether, sweet child, you hold the power to open it.

Encouraged by the words, she tried, reaching for the power she had felt in her battle against Zeus, but there was no answer. Still, she flicked her wrist like she had seen before. Once, twice, but nothing happened. She tried again, and again, tears of frustration slowly beginning to blur her vision, but the ether still did not open to her will. 

“I can’t,” she mumbled, then louder, “I can’t!” until she screamed her frustration into the temple ruins, her voice sounding distorted and hollow, “I CAN’T!”

And with her frustration something else flickered to light deep inside of her once more, warmth building, rising, until a familiar blazing heat pulsed through her veins again.

You can, sweet child. Try once more. Envision your success. Trust in your powers.

Trust in her powers. How could she? They had only just decided to appear out of nowhere. Then again, they had helped her defeat the Ruler of the Cosmos. So how hard could it be to use them to open a simple portal?

Closing her eyes, she did as the voice had told her and visualised a portal opening right in front of her. She imagined its jagged edges, the unmatched darkness that awaited, almost pulling her in, felt the twist and turn of her stomach she always felt in the blink of an eye it took to travel from once place to the other. And then she flicked her wrist again.

She almost squealed in joy as her eyes opened and fell onto the black hole in the air right in front  of her. She had done it. She really had. There was no time to lose now. 

Gathering her last strength, she managed to hoist the limp body up into her arms. Aidon groaned and she hated herself for causing him more pain than he already had to endure, even if there was no other way. 

Not long now, my love, she thought, and sent a prayer to the Fates that they would make it to the Underworld in time. Just one more step, one more deep breath, one more moment with their destination clear as day in her mind, and she could feel the cool stone of the palace balcony beneath herself. She must have fallen to her knees, Aidon’s body still clutched to hers, warm ichor oozing down her arms and legs, shining eerily against the black rocky floor.

“HELP!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Then again, the despair in her voice spiralling out of control. “Someone, please, help us!” Her grip on Aidon had tightened, their bodies rocking back and forth in unison, her cheek firmly pressed to his, as if she could cling to the measly rest of life still inside of him in case he could not hold onto it himself anymore. “Please,” she whimpered with the last bit of strength that remained, “someone help us. Anyone.”

***

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@ashesofblackroses

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@appreciating-fanfics

@notmanagingmymischief

@rosecentury

@fightmespideyboy

[niiine]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

(Part 2)

Character(s) involved: Nakahara Chuuya, Reader, and mentions of Kouyo

Summary: Tired of all the messes of the Mafia, you tried and succeeded in leaving the organization. Yet there’s only longing and regret waiting for you every time you come home, instead of a certain red head.

Warning: Cursing, mild act of violence (reader’s not really hurt), Chuuya used corruption but not on reader.

Angst, Hurt & Comfort

Repost, because I miss BSD but I can’t find the inspiration to write something yet. Reblogs are well appreciated <3

"Get out! Out! I don't need you here. I don't need you!"

A raging Nakahara Chuuya was the first thing that greeted you the moment you stepped inside his apartment. Despite his battered body—covered in blood, wounds, and bruises—it's a fit that he still managed to lash out at you. Veins throbbed in his forehead, and fiery eyes darted in your direction.

"Chuuya, please listen to me—"

"Listen to what? Your presence alone disgusts me. I can't stand you." His voice is still. Carefully held together so as not to give away what he really feels. Venomous words attempting to conceal what's pathetically broken.

"I heard you've used corruption again. I'm here to check on you. Please, please let me look after you."

Tears threaten to fall from your (e/c) orbs, concern vivid in its vibrant color. How the fuck did it all end up like this? You tried to move across the room, a little closer to where he stands, your body aching to feel his. Thinking that you can still clean the mess you've made, hoping you can still clean the mess you've made.

All desires turned into daydreams when the redhead sent you flying back, hitting the cold floor of his apartment. Chuuya won't hurt you like this. Your Chuuya won't hurt you like this.

But the thing is, he's not yours anymore.

"(f/n) (l/n). Leave," you stiffened at his words. It's silent; he's not shouting like usual. But you can feel the hatred, pain, and sadness all at once. You hate it, but you hate it more that you're the reason behind all of this. It could have been different if you weren't a coward.

"I'm sorry I left." It was hollow, the eerie silence tells you that Chuuya doesn't even want an explanation. You've hurt him, and that's enough. But your words continue, you want him to understand. "I got tired of—of killing—of this life," you paused, lungs deprived of oxygen. Guilt and regret are evident in the way you speak.

"So you end up leaving me, too? You're the only one I have after years of nothing, (y/n). You're the only one I thought I'd never lose." Chuuya looked at you. Eyes boring holes into yours. Carving every emotion you've made him feel. He's not crying, but you can hear hearts breaking in a distance— yours and his. And God, you hate yourself for hurting him.

"You didn't lose me. I'll never leave you. Allow me—please, allow me to get things right." Your trembling voice pleaded for forgiveness, sobs echoing and yearning.

Chuuya breathed a dry laugh "You? Won't leave? You already did" Your eyes meeting the cold, loveless irises. "I don't need you here. I can take care of myself. I don't fucking need you," Quivering words filled the room as he desperately tried to drive you out. Lies. Lies. Lies. His lips spilled hypocrisy while his tender, oceanic eyes told you otherwise.

A moment of silence lingers until you speak again. He's always been the strong-willed one between the two of you, and you can't let cowardice get ahead of you again. "Sure, sure, Chuuya. I'll leave," The flinch he made didn't go unnoticed as panic crept up to Chuuya's body. Can't you see that he's lying? 

"Only if you say that you don't love me anymore." His eyes snapped at you, words unable to form in a while.

You're ready to hear him say that he really lost his feelings for you; you're ready to hear him berating you with insults and shooing you away. And you will not blame him at all because it really is your fault. 

What you weren't ready for was him falling to his knees, palms in his face as he wails, almost incoherent sounds were made as if he were a child begging for love. Something he never had a chance to be.

"You won't destroy me again. You can't do it again. I won't allow you to." He said it in between sobs, breaking your heart into tiny little pieces. Kouyo would go after your head if she ever heard of what you've done to her beloved child.

Feet padding quietly on the grounds of his place, you dare once again to close the distance, crouching down near his height since he's all sprawled on the floor.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I won't do it again. I won't let it get over me again."

He placed his head on your shoulder and continued to sob. Every hitch breaks your soul.

"I regret loving you this much. I regret falling for you so hard. And I hate that I still love you even after you left me." His words contradict his actions. He's hugging you so tight as if he'll lose every inch of his life if he ever let go. Scared that you'll vanish again once he loosens it a bit. That you'll slip away, and he'll spend sleepless nights wondering why you stopped loving him again.

"How can I be sure of that? How can I make sure that you'll stay?"

"I promise I will."

Chuuya knows that promises are nothing more than words. It meant nothing. But you're here—he's holding you in his arms again. You're touching him again.

He's home, and to him, that's the only thing that matters.

[the-whumpening]

The Pet Tiger, #3 [nsfwhump AU]

Prev | Masterpost | Next

CW: Reference to noncon, forced use of buttplug (not really explicit, mostly just mentioned), violence, restraints, choking, pet training, noncon touching (kissing, fingers in mouth), emotional manipulation and mental fuckery, Ozmund once again being a creep

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3: Breath

After Faye dabbed golden powder on his eyelids and painted his lashes with a coat of dark paste—“he likes how it looks when it runs”—she forced a wide-based apparatus inside of him. He had seen them before, among Evius’ stash of toys and tools back at home, but they hadn’t had the chance to use any before . . . He shakes away the thought.

Ash is left to wait in what he can only assume are Ozmund’s personal quarters. The room is certainly lavish enough to fit his tastes, though most every part of his estate is similarly opulent. In the minutes—hours?—of silent waiting, Ash’s mind tumbles over what’s to come.

Is Ozmund going to . . .? Surely not, he reasons. If what he wants is Evius, there’s no way he’d find me attractive enough to . . . But, what he said before . . . Ash’s throat tightens as he shifts his weight from foot to chained foot. His hands, too, are bound behind him, preventing him from covering his nudity or freeing himself. When Faye had brought him to the room, she insisted he kneel to appease Ozmund and offer his body some rest. Though he complied at the time, as soon as she left, he contorted his body to stand again. He hadn’t anticipated the wait being quite so long, though—now, his legs are sore and tired, and the plug shifts awkwardly in his ass with every adjustment of his hips.

He nearly contemplates kneeling once again, if only to rest his feet, before the heavy wooden door finally opens. Ash’s body moves before he can think, scuttling backwards to press his back into a corner and pulling his shoulder in as if to protect his core. Ozmund enters the room, leaving his back to Ash for a moment as he locks the door with a loud thunk.

“Don’t fret,” he says, “No one will bother us now.” Ash can hear the smile in his smooth, low voice. Is that supposed to be a comfort? he wonders. As Ozmund turns to face him, his grin stiffens to a disappointed grimace. “Now, darling pet, aren’t you meant to be kneeling?”

At the word, Ash’s knees buckle beneath him against his will. His temple knocks against the wall as he drops to the ground. He groans, his head spinning and throbbing. Before he has the chance to right himself, Ozmund’s hand is in his hair, dragging him on his knees out from the corner. His bare skin scrapes painfully against the coarse rug, the plug insistently pressing into him as he’s forced to kneel in the middle of the room.

Ash bites the inside of his lip as he glares up at Ozmund. If he didn’t, he’s sure hot, stinging tears would escape down his cheeks. Ozmund loosens his grip on Ash’s hair, smoothing it back into place.

“I heard you gave the servants some trouble, as well,” Ozmund sighs. “I had hoped you might be clever enough to not need training, but . . . I suppose we’ll have to teach you from the ground up.” His fingers trace the sharp line of Ash’s cheek; Ash stiffens, waiting for the strike, but it doesn’t come. Not yet. When Ozmund speaks again, his voice is calm, but it fills Ash with a sense of dread. “You will learn every rule, every expectation. You will serve me with perfect obedience. And your training begins . . . tonight.”

Ash’s muscles shake with strain as the manacles fall away at Ozmund’s command. He slumps forward, trying to rest on his hands, but his throat is caught in Ozmund’s grip. Something cold and metallic clicks into place around his neck; his head snaps back up in an unspoken question. Ozmund meets his eyes and merely nods.

He takes several steps back from Ash, never breaking eye contact. When he’s satisfied with the distance between them, Ozmund snaps his fingers and points to his feet.

“Come.”

Ash tries to stand, but Ozmund shakes his head. The collar around his neck gives a choking squeeze, bringing tears to Ash’s eyes.

“Crawl, pet,” Ozmund clarifies.

The squeeze on Ash’s throat loosens, and he coughs as he falls back on his hands and knees. Once again, he chews on his lip to fight the humiliating tears threatening to overflow. He crawls to Ozmund’s feet.

“That’s a good pet,” Ozmund murmurs. “Now sit.”

Ash knows well enough to kneel, and he does so despite the hot, angry glow in his cheeks and the persistent pressure in his backside.

“Much better. Let’s try something a bit more . . . difficult.” He leans closer to Ash, his voice dropping low. “Open.”

Open? What-what does that mean? Ash wracks his brain, searching for some possible action he could take. Before he can make the connection, though, the collar once again cinches around him. His mouth pops open as he gasps for air, his fingers clawing uselessly against the smooth metal.

“There it is,” Ozmund purrs, locking Ash’s jaw in place with his hand like one would a snake. As Ozmund touches his face, the squeezing pain eases and he frantically pants. “Breathe, darling. Breathe because I allow it. Do you see now?” Ozmund’s thumb traces Ash’s bottom lip, playing with it. “Defiance will only bring you pain.”

Before Ash can finish catching his breath, Ozmund slips two fingers into his mouth, pressing down his tongue and pushing towards his throat.

“When I say ‘open,’ you will present your pretty little mouth just like this, and you will accept whatever I give you.” He pinches Ash’s nose for a moment with his free hand, cutting off his airflow. Tears finally spring from Ash’s eyes, the carefully applied mascara streaking down his cheeks. Ash pants through his stuffy nose when he’s released, Ozmund’s sharp nails trailing to his cloudy eye. “If you bite me,” he continues, casual and calm, “I’ll have to pop out your eye. You’re not using this one, right? Perhaps I’ll pluck it out first—something to remind you to behave.”

Ash gags against Ozmund’s fingers, fighting to breathe and keep his composure. For a few nauseating seconds, Ozmund thrusts his fingers back and forth, only further triggering Ash’s gag reflex. When he finally removes his hand, Ash drops close to the ground and heaves, praying he doesn’t vomit and incur more punishment.

To his surprise, Ozmund crouches to his level and strokes his hair. “You’ll learn, pet. We’ll train that awful reflex out.” He picks up Ash’s chin as the spasms finally stop. His voice almost tender, he continues, “I knew you’d look beautiful when you cried for me. I’m going to make you so perfect, darling. You won’t even remember how pathetic you used to be. Now, remember: no biting.”

He crushes his lips to Ash’s, forcing his mouth open and slipping his tongue inside. Ash feels sick. His tears fall faster, now fully sobbing; his keening moans and shuddering breaths pouring directly into Ozmund. Ozmund only seems emboldened by Ash’s suffering—reinvigorated, even. He peels away from Ash, nipping his bruised lip on the way, and latches a finger through the ring of Ash’s collar.

“Back to work, pet. You’ve got so much to learn.”