#its always a struggle with tags. sobs.

[angelsdean]

i think dean is someone who really panics when he the people he cares about aren’t in his line of sight / presence. like watching people leave (not even in the dramatic sense, like. just leaving the house / where he can see them) freaks him out. he’s gotten used to masking it really well at this point so like. no one knows but it manifests in little controlling actions and anger which obvs is annoying to other people like dean NEEDS to know where sam is going when, when he expects to be back, he NEEDS cas to check in when he’s gone for longer than a few hours and it’s yes, deeply rooted in his abandonment issues but also. extremely rooted in his fear as a child that whenever john walked out the door might be the last....like he literally was a little kid waiting anxiously and scared shitless for his dad to come back from hunts, knowing that it was very very possible he might never come back. like kid dean has bobby and pastor jim’s numbers memorized and knows that if john’s not back / doesn’t check in after three weeks (long, long after the grocery money has run out) he’s supposed to call them. anyways. yeah...so dean seeing someone walk out the door. instantly flooded with anxiety and freeze response 

[elegyofthemoon]

thwacks tumblr stop eating my tags and tell me when i hit 30 max >:I

[noxtivagus]

i'll just ramble a bit again in tags ><

[kyunzin]

𝐇𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

character; 𝐒. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞

cw; where there’s a problem there’s always a solution, yours is just getting dicked down by connie (f!reader)

tags; black reader, nsfw, dirty talk, back shots, multiple rounds, overstimulation, slightly messy sex, begging, aftercare (f!reader)

a/n; this was more for me than it was for you ;p

he has you bent over the sofa chair, sundress hiked up over your hips, panties pushed to the side as he fucks you into the couch with purpose. both his hand keeping you still as he pulls out to the tip and thrusts back all the way back in, the sound of of his hips snapping into yours filling the room.

“is this what you wanted baby, to be fucked like a slut”.

he had noticed straight away that something was off when you stepped through the door, the way you acted was off from how you usually would and he can tell the signs from when you’re in a mood.

the first sign was the way how instead of greeting him with a kiss you tried to walk straight past him, second was when you rolled your eyes at him when he asked if something was wrong as well as the snappy tone you used when telling him it was nothing. he bent you over the sofa with no hesitation.

he’s had you cum three times already now both of you bring overstimulated and worn out but he has no plans on stopping until he finds out what wrong. its not often that he has to question you like this but when he does its a long process, the both of you two stubborn to give in.

he doesn’t care how many times you cum either way he still gets to watch as your ass slaps back against his pelvis and the way your soaked pussy clenches around him every time he pulls back trying to suck him back in. theres a thick ring of your mixed arousal around his cock and he’s sure that your juices have dripped down from his cock down onto the sofa below you but he’ll worry about cleaning that up later.

“all you had to do was tell me what was wrong and we could have worked it out together but you decided to difficult and you know I don’t tolerate that shit ma, so you wanna tell me what’s up. hmm?”.

he doesn’t stop fucking you as he speaks but you can hear the little shakes in his voice when his hips connect with yours and the little profanities that slip out. you can tell that it’s affecting him as well as he’s cum just as many times as you but you know that he can last longer than you so you try fein confidence.

he chuckles when you shake your head no keeping to your stubbornness but he knows you won’t be able to last for long, you never do. all you need is a bit of tough love before you break down and give in to him.

“have it your way princess, we both know you’ll give in soon”

he feels no sympathy for you as he slaps his palm over your ass that’s he’s sure stings from the way you hiss out in pain, he repeats the motion until he satisfied hearing your cries, not caring whether they’re from pain or pleasure.

“anything you wanna -shit, say ma, all you gotta do is say two words and this can end”

he throws his head back in excitement when you turn around to face him letting out a weak and choked ‘fuck you’. he knows you’re not far from giving in so he lets you have the last of your struggle fucking you without mercy, the sofa rocking back and forth from the force of his thrusts.

“c’mon baby you know what you gotta do, dont’cha wanna be a good girl for me?”

a small sob leaves your mouth and he knows he’s won especially when he hears you mumbling and he slows his pace so it’s easier for you to speak. he doesn’t push you to speak louder but eventually your mumbles become louder and he’s able to make out your little repeated chants of “m’sorry” and “please”.

“what was that baby, you’re sorry?”

you can’t tell he’s mocking you and that he’s smiling as he says it but you nod anyway repeating your apology hoping he accepts it. now that he’s satisfied with your apology he pulls you up against him and turns your head around so that he can kiss you, you’re tongues messily swirling around each other.

“its okay princess I forgive you, how ‘bout you cum one more time to show me just how sorry you are”

you know it’s a command and not a question but theres no need for him to even ask because your impending orgasm washes over you with full force. it has your legs trembling, pussy twitching uncontrollably around him, loud moans escaping your glossed lips. which sends him over the edge as he spills his hot load into condom that you don’t even remember him putting on, with a low groan of your name.

“all that attitude for what ma?”

when you don’t respond he lifts up your limp body to find that your eyes are closed and your breathing steadily. he slowly pulls out of you and places you on the clean sofa walking away briefly before coming back with a warm cloth to wipe you down. striping you down to your underwear he brings you to your room and tucks you under the covers placing a kiss to your forehead. leaving to go clean the sofa.

delighted that he managed to fuck you unconscious he walks around the house with a smile on his face for the rest of the day. when you do eventually wake up a couple minutes later you tell him the reason for you behaviour was only because of a dare you were given and he just shakes his head already used to your antics.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@connies4lifer

[cmncisspnandmore]

Simon Riley’s been dead before.

He was buried alive to be exact. But he was never part of the plan to fake his own death. Now that he’s standing at the table with the rest of 141 planning out how they’re going to work it out. It hits him like a freight train.

This was need to know. Only task force 141 would know that Simon and Johnny were still alive. And it was starting to leave a sour taste in his mouth.

He could picture it now. Price standing at the door of your shared flat. The moment of realization causing your features to fall. The knowing look you give Price as he asks to step inside.

He can almost hear your broken sob as you fall to the floor, the broken skull plated mask clutched in your hands. Knuckles white from holding it so tight.

He can picture Price crouching down next to you on the floor, as he tries to offer you some comfort. As he feeds you lies about how ‘Ghost died a hero’.

He can imagine the dress you wore to his funeral, the casket empty as they lower it into the hole. He knows which one you’ll pick too. The short black dress with the lace detailing. It falls to your knees, the v neck collar scalloped in little lace skulls that you can only see if you get really close. The metal of his dog tags resting in the valley between your breasts.

His heart aches as he pictures you coming home each night to an empty flat. Always pausing at the hall closet where he stored his duffle bag when he was home. He can picture the way your hands shake when you get to making his side of the bed, trying your best to do military corners like he would.

He can hear your cries behind the bathroom door as if they were his own. The heart wrenching sobs that escape when you least expect it. The kind of tears that cause you to double over and wish you were dead with him because it would be easier than feeling this pain.

Simon’s stomach rolls as he looks around the table at his teammates. Each giving him a small half smile. Price comes around to him, his large hand clasping his shoulder as he looks at him.

“Only for a little while, yeah? Then we’ll get you and Soap back where ya belong.” He promises, and he does. 6 months, 3 days and 14 hours after he gave you the news that Simon was dead, Price knocked on the door of your flat once more.

But this time, it was the shadow of the man behind him that caused you to collapse to the floor. This time it was Simon who held you in his arms and rocked you back and forth on the tile floor of the kitchen for hours as you struggled to make sense of what you were seeing.

The next time you wore a black dress it wasn’t to a funeral but to Soap’s wedding, where he had helped Simon plan his own proposal.

Now when you paused at the hall closet where his duffle bag was kept. It wasn’t for the fear of being reminded he was gone. It was to laugh at the memories of Simon pressing you against the door, promising that there wouldn’t be any sad memories left in its wake.

The next time Simon heard sobbing from behind the bathroom door, they weren’t tears of pain and sorrow. But tears of hope and the promise of new life when the tests came back positive.

Simon Riley had been dead twice before. But with you in his life, he never felt more alive.

[bellaxgiornata]

Your Body is Not a Graveyard

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's been over a year since Frank and you decided to expand your family, but all you've managed to give him is more loss. Struggling with grief and depression, you've tried your best to hide your pain from him, but one afternoon, Frank stumbles on you mid-panic attack.

Warnings: 18+; miscarriage, pregnancy struggles, panic attacks, depression, grief, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, but I promise there's hope at the end

Word Count: 5.7k

a/n: So I have written a lot of Matthew Murdock content, but this is my first ever Frank Castle fic and my first ever one shot (but I could be persuaded for a possible sequel). Honestly, I wrote this for the Frank comfort because I've been struggling through some things and needed it myself so expect soft Frank. I am also working on a Frank series that will be coming soon. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tagging @danzer8705 since you asked!

For a long while you stood there, the faucet running as the warm water gradually grew hotter over your hands. You barely felt the temperature difference, though. Nor had you noticed that the soap had long since been rinsed from them. You were too focused on your eyes and the blank way they were staring back at you through the bathroom mirror.

Because at first you’d felt numb.

That bit of bright red noticeable on the toilet paper before you'd flushed had caught your eye. Part of you had expected it. It was, after all, about that time of the month. Again. At the very least, your body was nothing if not predictable. Which was why you hadn’t exactly been surprised to see the telltale crimson of your period beginning.

You’d gone through the motions after. Grabbed a tampon out from under the bathroom sink and finished your business before you'd washed your hands, yet all the while it felt like you’d somehow disconnected from your body. As if the hands inserting your tampon and flushing the toilet, the same ones pulling your underwear and jeans back up before turning on the bathroom faucet and lathering the soap along them, were suddenly not yours. You didn’t recognize them. 

And that face in the mirror, the one staring unblinkingly and so sullenly back at you, was unfamiliar, too. When had the bags under your eyes become so prominent? When had your eyes themselves grown so dull? 

But the longer you stared, the blurrier that face in the mirror became. 

And that’s when you felt it.

At first it was small–just the stinging of tears in your eyes. The all too familiar prickle began to build before you felt the first few large, wet drops spill forth from them. They left a trail of heat as they slid their way down your cheeks, catching in the frown lines around your trembling lips. 

Next came the sharp, burning pain that hit you right in the stomach. Gradually it crept its way up towards your chest like a growing fire right before you felt your ribcage abruptly compress around your heart and your lungs in a single, abrupt seize. A shuddering gasp tumbled out of your lips, your eyes snapping shut. Breath coming in shallower, your teeth clamped down onto your bottom lip as you tried to fight back the muffled sobs slipping out of you. You knew Frank had just returned home from the store and you didn’t need him to overhear one of the panic attacks you always hid from him.

The ringing in your ears soon became louder than the sound of the running water from the faucet, tears continuing to slip past your lashes as your own racing pulse pounded rapidly in your throat. But above all of that your mind was becoming the loudest thing in this bathroom, quickly drowning out everything else around you.

Because another month had gone by and you still hadn’t conceived. It had been over a year since you and Frank had stopped trying to not get pregnant and let things happen. Yet here you were. Enduring another monthly menstrual cycle. 

You still remembered that late night conversation with him curled up in bed together, the one that changed the trajectory of your past year. Both of you had been wrapped limb around naked limb in bed, your finger tracing mindless patterns along his bare chest as you both laid there together, panting and flushed from the exertion of your previous intimate activities. Frank had been rather sweet with you that night, too. Sweeter than usual. He’d taken his time with you, appreciating your body and touching you only with the most delicate of touches. Something about the way his hands had even just lingered on you that night had felt different. And then afterwards, he’d been the one to break the peaceful silence in the bedroom. You could still hear his voice perfectly in your head even now.

“I want that with you.”

Those five words had sent your heart into a frenzied flutter. Granted, you’d been uncertain if he’d meant them in the context of the conversation the pair of you had the night before when you’d curiously asked him if he had ever given more thought to wanting a family. It had been a question you’d assured him had come with no pressure. You knew about Frank’s past–the life that was not Peter Castiglione’s–and you’d always made it clear that you respected his boundaries either way. All you wanted was him. But before he’d ever proposed to you, he had on multiple occasions told you that maybe someday he could see that again–having a family–but only with you. 

So you’d been curious that night before, almost six months after you had eloped with him and legally become Mrs. Castiglione–though in private Frank called you Mrs. Castle. You had wondered if he would ever want something more. Something more than just the little family the two of you had created together in your cozy house. Because for a while now it had been just Frank, you, and Bear–the pitbull you’d seen on the local animal shelter’s social media page shortly after you’d both moved in together. You’d shown that picture to Frank and the very next day you had come home from work to find Bear wagging his tail and greeting you excitedly beside Frank in the living room. The three of you had quickly become a family.

But sometimes you still wondered about more than that.

So you looked back on that night fondly with Frank once he’d clarified what he’d meant. When he’d opened the door to something more for the both of you. Because you knew what that meant for him. You knew what a big step that was after what he’d lost.

You vividly remembered the excited squeal you’d let out when he gripped your chin so gently between his fingers and said he wanted a family with you and that he knew you’d make an amazing mother. You’d flung yourself on top of him and excitedly kissed his laughing mouth over and over while he’d joked about getting a head start on making a baby and trying a second time that night. And of course you did have sex again that evening, though you hadn’t removed your birth control implant until almost three weeks after that night, wanting to wait to make sure Frank was entirely certain before you did. And when you had, you’d both been ecstatic about what the future would bring.

But now, a year later, you found yourself growing further and further disheartened and depressed. You’d eventually begun to silently take the blame upon yourself that you hadn’t managed to get a pregnancy to full term yet. That you couldn't seem to give Frank a child. Because maybe you were broken. Maybe your body was broken. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t gotten pregnant at all–you had. Twice now. But you’d lost both pregnancies. And the second loss only hit you harder than the first because your second pregnancy had gotten farther along. You had been almost eleven weeks pregnant and starting to feel like things were going to be alright. You knew that the rate of miscarriage significantly dropped after the first twelve weeks. 

You had cautiously let yourself begin to get excited. To discuss nursery plans with Frank when it came to the extra, unused bedroom in the house. Teasing him about how many times you'd be likely to change your mind about the paint color, joking about how often he'd be repainting it for you. But he always just wrapped you in those big, strong arms of his, a broad smile on his face as he promised you the same thing every time. 

"Don't matter to me," his deep voice would rumble out with a soft chuckle. "I'll paint it every goddamn shade of the rainbow for the next nine months if that's what you want, sweetheart."

Frank had even finally let himself get excited, too, and it had warmed your heart to see. 

Oftentimes you'd wake up, rolling out of bed to hear him down the hall and in the kitchen making a pot of coffee. He was usually awake before you in the mornings and talking to Bear, but you had begun to overhear him telling Bear that he was going to need to be a good boy and look out for you and this baby whenever he wasn't home. Or you would overhear him telling Bear about how much he'd love playing fetch when the baby was a little older, and how this child would become Bear's best friend. It had always put a smile on your face when you overheard those one-sided conversations as you made your way into the kitchen in the mornings, greeted with the sight of a grinning Frank and Bear sitting beside him, wagging his tail so hard you could hear it thumping against the wood floor repeatedly.

You remembered how excited Frank had gotten about that first appointment with your obstetrician, too. He had insisted he took off early from work to be there to hear the baby’s heartbeat and see that very first ultrasound. And you would never forget the way Frank looked at you when you’d both first heard that rapid, fluttering heartbeat. His eyes had welled up with tears, his face a mixture of awe and sheer joy as his large hand tightened around yours. You had always thought Frank was an attractive man, but in that moment, with the way his face had lit up with so much happiness as he gazed back at you, you’d never seen him look more handsome.

Though you hadn’t seen that look on his face since. A few weeks after that appointment you’d woken up from a dead sleep, your abdomen aching and in pain. Getting up out of bed, you remembered stopping in your tracks when you felt that warm gush between your thighs and your throat had instantly closed up. You’d nearly sprinted down the hall to the bathroom, a groggy Frank calling out after you as Bear sat whining outside the bathroom door. 

You were bleeding and it just wouldn’t stop. 

Frank had known exactly what was happening the moment you'd begun openly weeping in the bathroom. With a focused calm he managed to get both of you dressed and ready before he brought you to the hospital. He kept uttering words of comfort in your ear, holding your hand as you sobbed into his shoulder in the ER’s waiting room. Eventually a nurse wheeled you back to a room in a wheelchair where Frank continued to hold your hand and hover at your side as the nurses drew blood and set up an IV. 

That whole time you were at the hospital Frank never let go of your hand, not until they needed to take you away to conduct an emergency ultrasound. You’d been terrified to go without him, not wanting to be alone if they couldn’t find a heartbeat, but the staff had refused, claiming it was hospital policy that he needed to stay back and wait for you. You swore you almost saw the Punisher firsthand in that hospital room with the sheer rage present on Frank’s face as his nostrils flared at the nurses. Inevitably you had to be the one to tell him it was alright, that you’d be fine with him waiting for you.

And then you’d broken down in the darkened little room by yourself as the doctor conducting the ultrasound offered you stiff and practiced words of condolences when that rapid, fluttering heartbeat couldn’t be found again.

You’d spent the next few days afterwards unable to leave your bed. Bear stayed cuddled up beside you, resting his head on your legs as you cried into your pillow on and off. Whenever Frank had gotten home from his shift at the local factory, he’d grab a quick shower before he lay with you, soothingly rubbing your back and not saying a word. Because there wasn’t anything to say. 

It was a few days later that you’d felt guilty for wallowing in your own grief. Despite that calm, comforting exterior Frank always approached you with, you knew he was hiding his own grief from you. That underneath all those sweet words and meals he had cooked for you, he was struggling with his own pain. And you’d stumbled on the truth of that one day when you’d woken up from a nap on the couch, heading to the bedroom and catching Frank sitting on the edge of the mattress bent in half with his face in his hands, the ultrasound photos laying on the nightstand beside him. 

You’d never felt like you’d let him down more in the time you’d known him than in that very moment and it had broken you. Because instead of adding joy to Frank’s life–like you wanted to do after everything he’d been through–you just kept adding more loss. So you’d stopped openly wallowing and crying after that, shoving your emotions all the way down until moments like this–like right now–where you were alone and could feel them. Just a little bit. Because you didn’t need to add anymore to Frank’s pain. You didn’t need to be another burden on his shoulders–he carried enough weight on them.

A couple of quick raps came from the bathroom door, the noise abruptly breaking through your thoughts.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Frank’s gruff voice called out from the otherside of it. “You good in there? Sink has been running for awhile now, just wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

Biting down harder on your lip, a choked sob slipped out between your teeth before it broke on a hiccup. Immediately you heard the bathroom door handle twist open, your damp lashes flying open to reveal Frank’s panicked expression reflected back at you through the bathroom mirror. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. 

Swiftly stepping beside you, he reached a hand out and turned off the faucet that had still been running. He muttered another curse when he realized how hot the water had been, reaching across you to grab the hand towel from the nearby towel rack. 

"Hey, c'mere," he whispered.

He wrapped the soft towel gently around your trembling hands, drying them off carefully as he turned you towards him. Your hands ached just from the light touch; you'd certainly left them under the hot water for far too long.

Sniffling, you turned your face into the sleeve of your shirt, trying to dry the tears still flowing on the fabric along your shoulder. Gritting your teeth together, you fought to even out your sharp, shallow breaths and get them under control. You didn't need Frank to see you like this.

"Somethin' happen?" he asked softly, removing the towel from your hands. "You hurt?"

You shook your head quickly, unable to trust your voice. 

He lowered his face to yours, trying to catch your gaze. Sniffling again, your eyes gradually slid up towards his, guilt flooding you at the sight of concern in his warm, brown eyes. Immediately the tears began pouring out of you even faster, your face scrunching up as you tried to bury it back into your shoulder.

"Hey, hey, c'mere," he murmured, tossing the towel onto the bathroom counter.

Frank's hands encircled your shoulders before he firmly pulled you into himself, burying his face into the top of your hair. Your hands were trapped between both of your bodies, sliding their way up to Frank’s chest before you desperately grasped onto the fabric of his black shirt and balled it into your fists. Pressing your face into his solid chest, you struggled to fight down the rasping breaths that kept leaving your mouth as you cried.

"I've got you, sweetheart," Frank whispered into your hair, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "I've got you. It's alright. You're alright."

One of his large hands began smoothing your hair soothingly as he continued gently shushing you and muttering words of comfort. Closing your eyes, you inhaled a deep, rattling breath and tried to focus on his calming voice. The familiar scent of him filled your nose, something warm like pine mixed with cinnamon. It was a smell you'd come to associate with him and it always brought you comfort–just like Frank’s entire presence always did. When you felt his lips leave a lingering kiss along your temple, the apology slipped out of your mouth before you even knew it had.

"I'm sorry," you breathed out.

“Sorry for what, sweetheart?” he asked.

Fingers curling tighter around the fabric of his shirt, you pressed your lips firmly together as you tried to bury your face further against his chest. You hadn’t meant to let that slip. The guilt and shame welling inside of you for months was something you much preferred to keep to yourself. You didn’t want Frank to carry the weight of that, too.

But you felt the way Frank had swiftly withdrawn his face from your hair, his large hand sliding around from where it had been stroking your hair to instead gingerly cradle your cheek. Slowly he drew your face from where you’d tried to hide against his chest, his hand gradually turning it up towards his. 

His brows were slightly drawn together, a few creases visible between them. The corners of his lips were downturned, his eyes narrowing as they searched your face for answers. You could feel the tremble of your own lips as you studied his face in return, seeing exactly what you hadn’t wanted to see in it. Frank Castle was not going to let this go without an answer. 

“Sorry for what, sweetheart?” he repeated.

Licking your lips nervously, you knew you were going to have to tell him this time. Though having this particular conversation didn’t remotely calm the racing of your heart. And you knew you were going to break down again in front of him; that thought alone brought the burn of tears back to your eyes.

“I–I got my period,” you stammered quietly.

Frank’s eyes only narrowed further at you, confusion briefly slipping onto his face as his frown deepened. But then understanding washed over his features mere seconds later and you saw his expression soften. He immediately began to shake his head at you, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t you dare apologize for that.”

"Frank, I–"

"No," he stated, shaking his head again. "No. You did nothing wrong."

Throat tightening, you struggled to get your next words out, your fingers still curled around his shirt.

"I lost them both," you choked out. 

Frank's other hand came up, both of his hands now carefully cradling your face between his palms. His lips twitched at the corners as his hardened eyes stared fiercely back at yours.

"That wasn't on you," he stated. "None of it was your fault, sweetheart. You hear me? It was out of your control. I don't blame you for a damn thing. How could you even think you need to apologize?"

The calloused pads of Frank’s thumbs began tenderly wiping away the tears that were still falling down your cheeks. Despite how dangerous you knew Frank could be–despite knowing the things he’d done–he’d only ever been gentle with you.

You inhaled a shuddering breath, another truth slipping out of your mouth. "Because I let you down, Frank," you whispered. 

Frank's head tilted to the side, confusion once again drawing over his face as his brows furrowed further together. "You–you what?" he asked.

Eyelids lowering, you tried to control your breathing, taking a deep breath in and holding it. You couldn't properly explain what you needed to if you were going to start hyperventilating on him. And you sure as shit felt like you couldn’t look him in the eye right now, either. Not with that look on his face, the one full of earnest desire to understand you. To help you.

"I know what it–it means that you wanted this, Frank," you began in a whisper. "Wanted a family with me. I saw how happy you were both times I told you I was pregnant. I saw the way your face lit up at the ultrasound. And I–" you winced, your grip tightening so hard on Frank's shirt that your nails were digging into your own palms, "–I saw you. After. Crying in the bedroom over that ultrasound. Because I can't–can't seem to just get pregnant. To keep a pregnancy." 

A humorless, strangled laugh fell out of you, your eyes still closed because you couldn’t bear to see his face. But you felt Frank’s hands holding your face a bit tighter between them in response to the harsh, bitter noise you’d just made.

"It seems so fucking easy for everyone else," you continued, everything suddenly tumbling out of you after months of repeatedly shoving it down. "Everyone but me. And I'm–I'm so tired of being asked by my family and friends every couple of months if I'm finally pregnant. So tired of them brushing off my pain like it's nothing, like the two pregnancies I lost were nothing . Telling me things will happen in time or–or there's no rush to get pregnant. That everything will work out like some empty fucking platitude is going to fix this. Because none of them have gone through any of this. And I'm happy they haven't. I am. But they don't know what it's like. How–" your eyelids flew open, your focus on your hands still wrapped around his shirt, "–how upsetting it is to be repeatedly asked if I've gotten pregnant yet, especially when it feels like my body is…" your voice trailed off, your tongue suddenly feeling too heavy in your mouth to finish your sentence. 

Frank's large hands carefully tried to turn your face up towards his, his eyes once again attempting to catch your own. Nervously you met his gaze and the hurt and pain clear in them only had your lips quivering yet again. 

"When it feels like your body is what, sweetheart?" Frank asked softly. 

Swallowing hard, your sad eyes held his as you spoke. "It feels broken," you whispered. "Like there's something wrong with me. Like it's–it's a graveyard."

The moment the words left your mouth, you entirely lost your composure. A sob barreled its way up out of your throat, your eyes snapping shut. Frank didn't stop you when your hands released his shirt and wrapped around his neck instead, your body collapsing forward into his. He only held you tight to himself, his hands rubbing calming patterns along your back as you wept. Your fingers dug into Frank through his shirt, clinging to him like he was the only thing grounding you.  

“You’re not broken,” he whispered after a few minutes, his mouth beside your ear. “You hear me, sweetheart? You’re not broken.” 

You felt him shifting beneath you, his hands making their way up to your shoulders before he gently pulled you away from himself. Reluctantly you loosened your grip around his neck, your own hands holding onto his broad shoulders as you drew back from him, spotting the damp spot on his shirt from where your tears had soaked through the fabric. One of his hands slid along the length of your shoulder, continuing upwards until he was lightly grasping underneath your jaw, his thumb affectionately brushing back and forth along the line of it.

“Look at me,” he said, the command so gentle it was more of a plea. “Hey, look at me, sweetheart.”

Slowly your watery gaze left that damp spot on his shirt and returned to Frank’s face, taking in that tender look in his eyes. It was the same look he’d given you when he’d dropped down onto one knee and asked you to be his wife. It was a look he’d given you so often since that night. And right now that look was breaking down all the walls you’d been building to keep Frank out of your pain.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” he assured you. “ Nothing . And there is absolutely nothing you need to be sorry about.”

His eyes quickly clamped shut, hurt briefly screwing up the features of his face as you silently watched him. When his eyes opened again, they held yours firmly with an intensity you didn’t see often in Frank. His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke again, but it didn’t waver on a single word.

“Your body is not a graveyard,” he stated. “You hear me? What happened does not define you. It doesn’t make you a–a disappointment or a failure. You had no control over any of that. And you don’t owe me a single goddamn apology, sweetheart. Not a single fuckin’ one.”

“But you’re hurting, too,” you whispered.

Frank shrugged, your hands rising and falling with the movement as they still rested along his shoulders. He gave you a single, resolute nod of his head.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It hurt me to lose both of them, too. But it hurts me more to see how much you’re hurting. And I’m sittin’ here feeling like there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

“You’ve already been doing so much for me,” you countered, shaking your head at him. “I don’t know how I’d have gotten through any of this without you.”

“I’ll always be here for you. Always ,” he assured you. “But do you still want this?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you slowly nodded back at him. “Yes,” you answered. “I want this with you, Frank. More than anything.”

The corner of his lip twitched upwards, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face. “Do you wanna keep trying? Or do you wanna look into other options?” he asked next. “Because I’m with you, whatever you want.”

Your arms slowly wrapped back around his shoulders, drawing him down towards you until his forehead was resting against yours. Your hands slid up the back of his neck, fingers brushing over the back of his cropped hair. Frank immediately leaned in, lightly pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. A small smile slipped onto your mouth when he pulled away.

“I want to keep trying,” you whispered. 

“Yeah?” he asked, a playful coyness in his voice.

You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out of you in response as he wrapped his arms around you in another embrace. Turning to rest your cheek against his chest, your eyes fell closed and you felt yourself relaxing into him.

“I’m on my period, Frank,” you reminded him.

“So?” he asked. “Didn’t stop us those times before.”

Laughing lightly, you shook your head against him. “Probably not likely to result in a pregnancy,” you pointed out.

“Who says that’s the only reason I need to make love to my wife?” he countered.

Slowly you shifted in his arms, your chin coming to rest along Frank’s chest as you looked up at him. He drew a bit back from you, glancing down at you with a cheeky grin on his mouth. When you quirked a brow at him, he sent you a wink.

“Make love, huh?” you teased.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he replied with a smug smile. “Which reminds me, I got somethin’ for you.”

Brows curiously drawing together when Frank’s arms released you from their hold, your arms dropped to your sides as you watched him turn and head out of the bathroom. You followed out of the room behind him, Bear greeting you in the hallway with a wagging tail. You smiled down at him, giving him a quick pet on the head before you continued on your way towards the kitchen after Frank, wiping the backs of your hands against your damp cheeks. 

When you rounded the hallway corner, you spotted Frank in the kitchen holding a vase filled with a beautiful floral arrangement. Your jaw dropped as you came to an abrupt halt. The bouquet was a mixture of white, deep red, and pink flowers and you couldn’t take your eyes from it. It certainly looked like he’d stopped at a florist after he’d picked up the groceries because the arrangement was far nicer than what you’d find at the store. 

Eyes making their way up to Frank’s smiling face, you felt the tears beginning to well up in them again. Though this time it wasn’t because you were upset and hurting, it was because you were full of so much love for the man you’d been fortunate enough to marry.

“You brought me flowers?” you asked in awe.

“Yeah,” he answered with a shrug. “Seemed like you could use some cheering up. I also picked up one of those coffees you always order,” he continued, turning and gesturing at the cup on the kitchen counter behind him. “I know how much you love your coffee.”

Rapidly crossing the distance between you and Frank, you quickly reached up and grabbed his face in both of your hands before roughly pulling him down towards you. Your mouth was on his, kissing him like it was the first time you ever had all over again. His own lips were moving just as earnestly against yours, matching the same intensity as one of his hands landed on your hip, pulling you into him.

After a moment you broke away, trying to catch your breath as you stared up at Frank. He stood there, one hand holding your hip while the other continued to hold the vase of flowers, a bright smile spread wide over his mouth.

"I love you," you told him.

Leaning forward, Frank placed a kiss on your forehead. A smile grew along your mouth when his warm lips lingered against you. 

"I love you, too," Frank murmured, lips brushing your skin as he spoke. 

He gave your hip a gentle squeeze before he released it, turning and setting the vase of flowers back onto the counter behind him. He picked up the cup of coffee before he turned back towards you, holding it out. You accepted it from him with a soft thanks before drawing the cup to your lips for a deep drink. Eyelids fluttering closed, you reveled in the comforting liquid as it ran over your tongue. 

"Somethin' you want to do this afternoon?" Frank asked. "'Cause I'm all yours the rest of the day."

Chewing your lip, you turned at the waist and looked over at Bear sitting in the space between the kitchen and living room. The moment your eyes fell on him he perked up, his head tilting to the side as his tail began to thump against the wood floor. Focusing back on Frank, you sent him a smile. 

"I'm happy to do whatever as long as I get to spend the afternoon with my two favorites," you told him. 

Frank’s attention shifted to Bear before he jutted his chin at the dog. "Hey boy, how's a long walk on that trail sound? You think a little family outing will cheer our girl up?" he asked. 

Bear let out two deep barks, rising up onto his feet. His front paws happily danced back and forth, his nails lightly clicking along the wood floor. You laughed at how excited he was, your gaze eventually drawn back to Frank standing just before you. 

"What do you say, sweetheart?" he asked, a playful grin on his face. "You up for a little family outing?" He gestured his chin at the coffee in your hands. "You can bring the coffee."

"I say that sounds like a good afternoon," you replied. 

Taking a step towards him, you tilted your face upwards. Frank immediately leaned down towards you, knowing exactly what you wanted and allowing you to press your lips to his in a light kiss. Your heart stuttered when you felt the way his mouth drew into a smile against yours before he broke away.

"And what about afterwards?" he asked, tone light and teasing as his face hovered just an inch from yours. "You up for a little love making in the shower?"

An amused snort fell out of you, Frank's smile only growing at the sound of it. Grinning back at him, you felt like some of the weight of your grief had lessened after finally opening up to Frank today. Not that the pain you felt had miraculously disappeared and the emotional wounds had suddenly healed over, but you didn't feel like you were drowning in it anymore. For the first time in months you felt like you could breathe a little easier. 

And you owed it to the man standing in front of you. 

But you also knew there was pain hiding behind those brown eyes gazing so fondly back at you. That Frank had his own hurt that needed to be addressed because he seemed to be doing the same thing you were–shoving it all down and pretending it wasn't there. You'd have to talk to him about it, ease him into opening up next. Maybe he'd be receptive on this walk since you'd both finally begun to talk.

Shrugging a shoulder lightly, you held the cup of coffee tighter between your hands. "I think that sounds like a great way to get cleaned up afterwards," you answered. 

Frank shot you a wink that had your cheeks heating, even after all this time together.

"That's my girl," he whispered, a note of pride in his voice. He tossed an arm around your shoulders, whistling over at Bear. "C'mon boy, we got a beautiful woman to cheer up."

Bear let out a happy bark before you saw him race across the kitchen past the pair of you, heading straight for his leash beside the door. Frank’s deep chuckle at Bear’s ever-present enthusiasm for walks filled your ears, and when he looked back down at you beside him with those soft brown eyes of his, all you saw reflected back at you was love and acceptance. 

[zhongrin]

your throne, my love

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, xiao, thoma

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, afab!reader, chubby!reader, facesitting (if that title wasn't enough of a hint lol), implied dragon!zhongli

◇ a/n ◇ enjoy you degenerates /aff <3

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli thinks it’s adorable - the way you get all flustered when he suggests the idea of you sitting on top of him. and now that you’re in that position, he thinks you sound just as - if not even more - adorable, with your breathless moans and surprised gasps.

he silences your worries for his wellbeing with his arms locked onto your thighs: solid, unmoving stone shackles that won't budge no matter how much you struggle, whine, or cry out. are you seriously underestimating him right now? given his history as the geo archon himself, being suffocated as he worships your beautiful, bountiful body is paradise to him.

his mouth sucking, licking, and lapping on your drooling cunt, until you fall apart multiple times above him, sobbing and pulling on his hair, begging for mercy - which he eventually gives out of concern for your exhausted mortal body.

perhaps next time he should have his horns out so you can grab onto them...

... and he has to wonder, would you be open to exploring how his forked, prehensile dragon tongue would feel inside you?

al haitham loves having you on top of him just as much as having your tight flower greedily swallowing his cock. it would be an honor, he says teasingly when you enquire about his opinion on the matter, not knowing that it’s one of the many things his filthy mind concocts whenever he looks at you.

he gets into it without delay, easing up your nervousness with slow, gentle licks to your slit and his hands massaging your wide hips. before long, however, he’s pulling you down more and more, tongue moving faster and faster, desperate and feral to taste even more of you, switching between flicking your clit and stirring your insides. your ‘no wait’s becomes ‘yes more’s, and pride swells in his chest, your pleas and unconscious grinding against his face making his cock ache within his pants.

he lets you move away from his face after you finish and chuckles darkly when you hide your embarrassed expression upon seeing the slick all over his cheeks, chin, and neck. “is that it for your fantasy? then, it’s my turn to relive my fantasy next,” he says as he pulls you back to your seat.

childe is a man who’s always starving for your pussy and this is easily one of his top five most favorite activities. he wastes no time in pulling you down to him, flashing you a cheeky grin - a silent promise to make you feel really good - before his chapped lips latch onto your clit.

within the first few minutes, your precum drenches the dried skin of his lips, its texture adding to that extra sensation as he passionately nuzzles further onto your cunt, humming and groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. he’s so drunk from the sweet ambrosia enveloping his senses, that he nearly forgets to breathe. still, he growls every time your fingers latch onto his hair, trying to pull him away, and he retaliates by giving a harsh slap onto your thick bum and nibbling teasingly on your puffy nub.

and when your orgasm hits you and you gush onto him? ajax whines and moans erotically, tears pooling in his ocean blue eyes as he cums untouched in his pants.

xiao will never admit it out loud but he loves how he’s reduced to a tool for pleasuring you.

you always start gently with him, afraid of being ‘too much’ or ‘too suffocating’, to which he scoffs and wordlessly pulls you closer to prove a point.

he’s always been a man of actions rather than words, so that’s what he does. he shows you how much he loves digging his bare, calloused fingers into the fat of your thighs, mindlessly using his whole face to lap, tease, suck, and massage the entirety of your drooling pussy. his golden pair of eyes trying to peek up at your expression every now and then, observing your reactions... but that all methodical cautiousness eventually flies out of the window when he drives you into mindless pleasure, and he’s grunting as you grind onto his tongue and sinful mouth, cock straining against his pants as your loud moans fills the room.

yes - if it’s for you, he doesn’t mind being used like this.

thoma’s service kink is thriving whenever you ask him to pleasure you in bed, but he’s always wondered why you never asked him this in particular. so when he sees the opportunity to try it out, he jumps at it, excitedly laying back and instructing you to move your straddling up towards his face.

he reassures you with his words and gentle squeezes of his hands on your waist as you descend upon him like an angel from the heavens. as soon as your heady scent hits him, he's eagerly pulling you close, intent to worship you like the deity you are.

it’s a slow and languid grind, gentle massages and slow-building pleasure as thoma tries to find a pace you like and the spots that makes you moan the loudest. the mix of his saliva and your juices are drenching the pillow and his hair, but he doesn't care. all he can focus on is your sweet taste on his tongue and the way you tighten as he tongue-fucks you from his place beneath you.

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @paintingsofdragonspine | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

[azullumi]

“heart to heart” ; ayato, cyno, diluc

summary — he could only watch as you die ; alternatively, he’s there to comfort and hold you as you take your last breath.

characters — ayato, cyno, and diluc (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — angst but not that heavy but not that light also, grammatical errors bcs i don’t like to proofread, established relationship ; scenario/one-shot

words — 1460

note — this is part 1 out of 2 !! here’s the next part with a different set of characters <33

;; AYATO

“—and i want a garden full of tulips.” you declared, a smile creasing the line of your lips, and he admires you ever so lovingly while listening to each one of your words. “why a garden only? we could have a mansion overlooking the sea.”

a hum escapes your lips as you think of his answer, “but mansions are huge and often lonely. i want a home, a warm one, big enough for us and our children and i want a garden where they can play.”

he smiles, gently, eyes gazing at you as if you’re the most lovely thing he has seen and you really are—the moonlight dances and rests on your skin, emitting a soft glow on your features, and you look much more breathtaking than ever. “we can be the ones to plant the tulips,” he elicits a light laughter from you, “mhm, we definitely should.”

it is late now, the both of you are a little bit tired resting underneath the sky peckered with stars. and right now, in the past, and future, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he—

“i love you, ayato.”

his breath hitched, like his heart has crumbled at his hands, you were there bloody and withering away on his hands, like a flower that had cut off its stem. and just like how quickly the world can be created out of three words, it shattered right at his hold.

“please don’t say that.” his voice breaks, faltering, compared to the tight hold he has on you as he desperately wishes that this warm embrace can help you even for a little bit. “why?”

not like this, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you aren’t supposed to die like this, you weren’t supposed to leave him, not right now, not ever—not when he still hasn't accomplished all of the things you two have talked about underneath the night sky.

“you’re saying that as if you’re going to die.”

you chuckle, “because i am.”

“this isn’t the time to be joking around.” but he knows the reality of it, he just refuses to accept it. “what about our plans?” he knows it from the way you struggle to find the words in your tongue, from the way you smile at him as you listen to his voice coming apart, “what about the tulips? the garden? you promised me,” from the way your breathing slows down and eventually—

“i… i’m sorry.”

—it stills.

a brief moment of silence and a broken sob came, “you promised me…” that you’ll be there, that you’ll plant the tulips with him. “i love you,” that’s why he mourns for you and the promises you made.

;; CYNO

“i think that’s all of them?” you walk over to his side, feeling the soreness of your body hit you. bodies were found laying all around you but they weren’t dead, just knocked out as if they still have to be taken in for questioning.

“yes but nevermind that, are you hurt?” he asks him in a flat tone, despite the nature of his words, worry didn’t lace his tone. “it’s not that bad,” you say but half of your body feels numb, your side is damp, aching as it continues to bleed—it’s just a small wound.

you weren’t going to die even if your line of work requires you to be put in danger at times, you will never die for anyone, you’ve sworn that to yourself. it may be a selfish idea but you had promised yourself that you will always choose yourself because no one can be more than you. your existence is way too important for someone else’s to have it for their own—nobody can and nobody will.

but not the general mahamatra, not your love, not him as you willingly took a hit for him which left you at this state but he doesn’t know the severity of your situation as you chose to hide it. you didn’t want the man to worry—you were selfish not until it came to him.

your vision blurs and you feel your head spin.

“cyno—“

it happened so fast. you, suddenly collapsing to the ground and him, calling out to you as he towards your direction to catch your collapsing figure before it hits the cold floor.

he cursed underneath his breath, panic washing over him as he noticed your wounded side, covered with blood and it was then that the realization had dawned upon him—you were severely hurt since earlier and he just wants to berate himself, not you, for being so careless and ignorant.

“no matter what happens, don’t you ever dare risk your life for me.”

he trembles, recalling those words in his mind. it was you who had told him that and yet, you’re here, “keep your eyes open.” he pleads in a broken tone.

“i’m sorry…” you try to fight off the growing feeling of your eyes becoming heavy and your slow breathing, fighting off the ominous being cloaked in black standing at your foot. you weren’t going to die, you promised yourself.

you were getting weaker so is the sound of your voice, your vision seems to blur and darken in each moment that passes by and oh god, how much you fear not being able to see his face, not being able to see him completely in your last moments with him—thoughts came drifting in and out of you, asking what kind of expression does he have at this moment. does he still have that same calm expression you adored?

you coughed once more, fading eyes looking for the warmth of his own, “i love you, cyno, from the first time we met until forever. remember— remember that.”

“s-stay with me.” a command, but his breaking voice fails the firmness of his words, his tone could only be so soft as he spoke. “don’t you—don’t you dare close your eyes, that is an order.”

but the light of your eyes had already disappeared and at that moment, not only you had died but also him as you breathed out your last—even in death you still held his heart.

;; DILUC

“a hug, please?” you beckon with your arms wide open for him as you sit on the edge of the bed, your bed and his. the red-headed man only smiled before

“why do you need a hug all of a sudden?”

you hum, “nothing, i just want to feel you.” and in which, he huffs out a chuckle, “you can feel me as much as you want, my love.”

he could spend his life just with you in his embrace alone. oh, how he would choose to be alive by your side over anything, over everything. nothing could beat the solace of your hands on his own, of your lips in a kiss, of your skin at his touch.

but fate could be so cruel.

“do you remember the first time we met? i was also in your arms, you caught me when i was about to fall.” your tone was soft, fragile, as if anytime soon you’ll break and give in. “please—stop talking, save your strength, please. my love, you cannot leave me, you are not going to leave me.”

he spent so much of him guarding and driving danger away from the beloved city of freedom only for him

to not be able to protect you against those, it was injudicious on his part for not thinking that those very perditions that he fights were lurking at the comfort of his home. cruel, cruel, cruel, how could fate be so cruel? how could people be so selfish?

a dry chuckle and a weak response, “we know much better than that, ‘luc.”

how could you still look breathtaking even at the hands of death? how is it that you still manage to enamour him with blood staining your lips?

“i know that i’ve always belonged in your arms, even in death.”

he’s as warm as you remember him and you are cold despite his embrace, you remember—or perhaps, know—the expression on his face as you took your last, remembered the way he feels on you, remembered the way he speaks to you so lovingly, remembered everything about him and burned it your memory in hopes that you’ll know him in your next life, if there is one.

“i love you.” he mumbles as he brings you closer to him, tears that he had been holding back had now came pouring out of his eyes, the words he had told you were laced with warmth and affection—with hurt and poison.

but you are still cold and now, lifeless as you lay in his arms. beautiful, captivating, darling—dead.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[codfanficedits]

One more mission.

CW: ANGST. A lot of angst </3 no proofreading because i cried while reading it

Fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

One more mission.

That is what Ghost and you had agreed on. Just one more mission until the two of you would go on a little getaway. A nice, well deserved vacation. Something to relax at after countless missions, countless late nights, countless piles of paperwork. To celebrate your relationship, the five beautiful years that had flown by, to celebrate his stubbornness, to celebrate your kind nature. The best place to celebrate how you had gotten to be his sunshine.

The memories of planning the trip are as warm as the blood that drips through your fingers as you hold your chest. A guttural scream from Ghost is heard from the battlefield. The man sprinted towards you, the thuds of his boots being deafening. He drags you to safety, hiding behind a slab of concrete. Ghost drops on his knees, his hand over yours, pressing on the wound on your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.”

“You are going to make it lovey, don’t worry.” You can tell that he wants to believe his own words, but you both know he’s lying. “I’m sorry.” You whisper once more, as your free hand reaches for your dog tags, taking them off and offering them to Ghost. “So you can keep me close to your heart.”

It was as if his soul came apart as he listened to your words. “No, no, no. Sweetheart. Don’t you say a word. I’m not losing you. You hear me? God damn it, I will tear this world apart for you.” His voice breaks into sobs when he speaks to you.

You had never seen Ghost crying, and all it took was for you to die.

The hand he has on yours tightens its grip on you, if God would’ve asked him what he wanted in exchange of his soul, it would’ve been you. More time with you. More cuddles with you, more kisses from you, more love making. More. More. More. But God had abandoned his best soldier in times of need.

Blood kept seeping through your fingers, it stained your hand, his hand, your uniform and his too. But Ghost didn’t mind, not at all. You had gotten dizzy from the amount of blood you had lost, a wave of nausea came over you. You were running out of time and the both of you knew it. “There is a picture book under my bed.” You say, a faint smile on your lips as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I’ve captured our moments for the past five years. It was a gift for our vacation. But..” You don’t want to say the last part. If you don’t say it, it doesn’t have to feel real. “Look at it when you miss me.”

“Then it’s all I’ll ever see again.”

You want to tell him to move on after you, to continue with life, but the look in his eyes tells you enough. He always thought soulmates were stupid, after all, he loved you on purpose, but Ghost changed his mind, right there and then.

The skullmask gets lifted, the balaclava too, and his soft, warm lips pressed against your forehead.

“Let me see your face.” You murmur and he obeys.

It’s a sight that breaks your heart. A trembling lip, tear filled eyes and so much guilt on his face. “I can’t do this.” He whispers. “I can’t live when you’re gone.”

“But I won’t be gone.”

“What?”

“Look for me in the beauty of life, look for me in the sunrise, the moon, the stars. I’ll be the beauty of the auburn leaves in autumn, a soft breeze on a hot summer day. I’ll be with you through it all.”

His sobs are no longer silent, they’re raw, painful. His lips press kisses against your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and finally your lips. As If he is trying to keep you alive through his love. And to be fair, if love would be enough to survive, you would’ve lived forever.

The both of you knew the risks of being in the military, but it never occurred to you that it would be the reason you would die, that it would be the reason you would never marry, grow old, get your own kids, or a few dogs for that matter. It was bittersweet. The army would cost you your life, but you had gained Ghost, you had gained Simon, and your life seemed like a fair price for the love he had given you.

You could feel that it was time, there was barely a pulse left. What you would’ve done for a little more time with him. “Flowers.” You whisper. “I want so much flowers on my funeral.”

“I’ll get you all the flowers I can find.” He answers with a choked voice.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You can close your eyes after his words, you’re tired, and while your mind isn’t ready to go, your body can’t hold on much longer.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He holds you while your body goes limp. Holding your head against his chest as he cried, wailed and screamed as loud as he could, halfway through, he hoped you could hear him scream on your way to heaven, so you would turn around and come back to him.

One more mission. And the two of you would go on vacation. One more mission and Ghost would have some time off with the love of his life.

One more mission and you came home in a body bag instead of in his arms.

He kept his promise to you. Getting all the flowers the funeral home would allow him to and then a few extra he had snuck in through his suit. The two of you had jokingly discussed him wearing royal blue suit on your wedding day, and now he was wearing it to your funeral.

Ghost tried to speech on your funeral, he really did.

“I wish we had more time.” He started. “I miss you terribly. The world is too quiet without you nearby.”

His voice left him after those words, his eyes filling with hot tears as his vision got blurry. But they all understood. No one needed him to finish speaking to understand the love he had for you.

And so the hours after your passing turn into days, they turn into weeks. Ghost finally had the courage to look for the picture book you had described. The sight of all those pictures made him curl up into a ball and bawl his eyes out. He never knew you had taken so many pictures of him when he wasn’t looking, and he was thanking the Gods that he could see himself through your eyes.

The picture book is located in his bedroom, accompanied by a black, velvet box. An engagement ring that never made it to you.

One more mission, before he would propose to you.

The hours after your passing turn into days, they turn into weeks, into months.

And now Ghost can finally see your beauty in the world. You’re the soft blue sky filled with white clouds. You’re the eclipse he went to see with Soap. You’re all the flowers that bloom around him, the mushrooms he finds in autumn, the soft blanket of snow in winter. You’re it all and he is no longer afraid to open his heart for it.

The hours after your passing turn into days, they turn into weeks, into months, into years and Ghost opens the door to his balcony, watching over the sunrise you promised him you’d be.

“I miss you more than I remember you.”

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  HAND OF BLOOD

SUMMARY : “Hey can i request one where the reader is Dean Winchester wife and she just found that she is whatever supernatural creature and him just cuddling with her and help her using her new powers?? something fluff and cute” - anon

PAIRING : dean winchester x powered!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS :  unnamed villain, sam winchester, castiel

WARNINGS/TAGS : fluff, angst, comfort, trauma

WORD COUNT : 1.0k

A/N : bullet for my valentine song title. trying some new ways of writing bc university sucks, anyway, you can imagine the reader to be whatever magical/super-powered being from the show, I didn’t specify x

“Stop holding back, you could… you know… do something for me and I will let you go, alive,” the dark voice of the monster before you made a shiver run up your spine. Your stomach churned nervously, but you gave in anyway.

“Do what?” You sobbed, tugging helplessly at the chains around tour wrist.

You felt a warm breath by your cheek and you inhaled sharply, your body instantly tightened with stress.

“A little bit of magic,” the words brushed against your ear and neck. And you didn’t think you could shiver any harder than you already were, but your body shook with a shudder and your muscles clenched tighter, somehow.

“I can’t do magic,” you whispered with defeat, trying not to cry when a hand squeezed around your throat. “I’m not a witch,” you struggled to breathe through the tight grip.

Whatever the thing was that held you captive, squeezed your throat so tight you could feel your frantic heart beat against its palm. Then, the grip loosened with a frustrated growl, an impatient sound, desperate.

“But you are something,” it insisted through clenched teeth, “something very powerful.”

“I’ve never even… I think you’ve got the wrong person,” you argued weakly. Your body slowly relaxed and you accepted whatever your fate was.

You didn’t bother letting your eyes fall shut, you didn’t bother trying to squint and making something out of your surroundings. The pitch black room revealed nothing to you. All you could smell was dank air and dirt, hear the echo of yours and your captor’s breath against concrete walls and floor. The occasionally clink of the metal that bound you to the floor, the rustle of leaves with the shuffle of feet.

“I don’t have the wrong person. I think you’ve been holding back,” the voice grinned and two hands pressed against either side of your temples. “Why don’t we go back to the biggest hits? To all those times you’ve felt powerless?”

“You know… this doesn’t change the way I see you,” Dean promised, kissing your forehead. He absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair and kissed your cheek when you sniffled.

“I can’t… what if I can’t control it?” You whispered, wiping away tears with your sleeve as they flowed from your eyes with no end in sight.

“Hey, you’re such a control freak, I doubt you’ll let your powers beat you,” Dean grinned in attempts to cheer you up, but you were barely able to muster up a smile. You generally found Dean hilarious, something he knew well enough to find a way to cheer you up easily. Even when you had no idea what he was saying, he always made you laugh. It was always that dorky, boyish grin of his that made you crack up.

Dean shimmied down on the bed so he could face you. He sighed and gave you a weak smile. You were embarrassed of your wet eyes and swollen lips, but you knew Dean wasn’t judging you, and that’s why letting yourself fall apart was always so easy to do when you were with him.

“We’ve gone through worse and we’ve come out pretty damn alright.” His hand landed gently on your flushed, hot cheek. You finally looked into his gentle eyes, through watery vision and sticky lashes he still looked beautiful. “I promise that I will help you in any way that I can, sweetheart. So will, Sam. And so will Cas. We’re a family, you’re not gunna do this alone. Okay?”

Dean waited for you to nod. You almost couldn’t breath with the way he looked at you. With his soft green eyes glowing with determination, and kindness, and empathy. It hurt so much that you just nodded, and buried your face in his chest so that all the emotions in his eyes wouldn’t get to you and make you break down again.

He held you close to him and chuckled softly. He pressed his lips to the top of your head and soothingly rubbed your back while you clung to the warm layers on his body.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean gasped out a laugh, hunching over with his hands on his knees. “You’re not dangerous at all, you just suck at this. So… don’t be nervous.”

You glared at Dean as he struggled to breathe and wheezed out another laugh. Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with one arm crossed over his firm chest. Even Cas seemed irritated with Dean; he rolled his eyes and let his hands slap against his thighs in defeat, his powers slowly fading.

“This isn’t easy and you’re doing great,” Sam encouraged you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly when he made his way across to you. “Cas, again,” he tipped his head towards you and returned next to Dean to elbow him in his ribs.

Dean squirmed and wiped tears of laughter from his eyes, his eyes shimmering with flirtatiousness when they opened back up to you and the glare you sent his way. He wiggled his brows and smacked his tongue above the roof of his mouth, and you couldn’t resist the tiny smile from growing on your face. Or the blush that began to heat up your face, the skipped beat of you once fearful heart, the clench of your stomach. Yup, Dean still had it.

“Try to… um, just don’t hit us… well, you can hit Dean,” Sam snickered, ignoring the glare Dean shot at him. You grinned when Dean glanced back at you and you picked yourself. He sneaked behind Sam to hide from you and the way you unfortunately sucked at using your abilities. Most of your anxiousness disappeared, and Cas smiled reassuringly when he powered up.

You didn’t think things could be any better, all things considered. New powers, new you. But most importantly, your relationship with Dean, Sam, and Cas seemed to get better in the past seven months, like this one bad thing that happened to you didn’t get between you… instead, it wove the four of you together, and squeezed tight like a knitted blanket. Despite the fear, the anxiety, the uncertainty of what you were now, you felt warm, safe, and secure. With the people you call your family.

You had Dean to thank for that. And everyone else’s for falling into your life so perfectly.

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld @angelbabyyy99 @girls-alias @impala1967rollingthroughtown @kezibear @kaleldobrev @iwishiwasntreal @pasteldecrack @blackcherrywhiskey @dayhsdreaming @littlemadamred @xshortputax @imsapphine @Isadumbass

or follow @deanbrainrotlibrary for fic notifications

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

month of love 2024 masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[fenricken]

You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 4/7

AO3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

first

prev

The rain fell heavily, washing the blood on the ground away as he stepped toward the woman. She was hunched over, sobbing, clutching her dead son to her chest. She glanced up at him as he approached, mouthing silent prayers.

“What happened here?” he asked, carefully ignoring the dead bodies around.

“They came… for a box my family has guarded for a long time. They killed my husband and my son, and they’ve taken my Catherine… They’ll torture her to make her speak its secrets. Please! Please, help her!”

She reached out a hand to him, imploringly. He crouched down to take it.

“I will.”

————

Danny stood before Clockwork, adjusting his new cowboy hat. Maddie and Jack stood behind Clockwork tinkering on the Fenton Omega Siphoner, and arguing over the aesthetics of the machine.

“I have already sent Dani out to help the Justice League locate Batman’s cape. Hopefully we should receive word on her success soon.” Clockwork began, “In the meantime, we do still need someone to make sure Batman doesn’t rush forward too quickly, lest he build up too much energy before we can stop him. Are you ready?”

“Always ready for bat-sitting duty. I’d hope he’s doing something  a bit calmer this time, but I suppose there’s no chance of that happening.” Danny responded, pointing to his hat.

Clockwork just gave his usual cryptic smile before opening a portal for Danny to step through.

————

“Roooooobin. Rooooooooobin.”

Tim whirled around, searching for the source of the noise.

“Oooh, new fit?” Poltergeist asked, stepping out of the shadows. “Ugly cowl, but I like the rest of it.”

Tim lowered his bo staff at her, readying himself for whatever chaotic ‘game’ she tried to rope him into this time.

“Your city’s on fire. You bats trying out some new defense mechanism or something? Like, you think no rogue would want to take over Gotham if it’s a pile of rubble and ash?” She turned in a circle, surveying the chaos Gotham was under.

“What do you want, Poltergeist?”

“Well, so like, Batman’s stuck in time, right? And-”

“How do you know that?!” Red Robin cut in. He had been struggling to convince everyone that Batman was still alive ever since he found those paintings on the walls of the Batcave. Suddenly, here was Poltergeist who seemed to know something about it, but he couldn’t trust her. She was unpredictable, and running into her could mean leaving with anything as benign yet uncomfortable as soaked socks or as irritating and hindering as being cursed to only speak dead languages for the next 3 days.

And things only got worse if she was tagging along with Klarion. Fortunately, he wasn’t in sight, so it's unlikely he was here with her.

“What do you want?”

She smiled slightly at him. “Oh! I want to get Batman back where he belongs before he dies or explodes everything.”

Explodes everything?

“I mean, Gotham’s got a grumpy quota and since you’re his mini-me I figured you’d start trying to take it on and that’d be so boring.” She raised her pointer fingers to the side of her head, imitating Batman’s cowl and adopted a nasally voice. “I don’t have time to play, Poltergeist. Gotham needs me. I have to go stalk Penguin, and then I need to go brood on my favorite gargoyle.”

“So you want to help me find Batman so that I will… be able to play with you?”

“Well, that, but also if he makes his way to the present day on his own, he’ll have built up enough of something called Omega Energy to make all of reality go ka-blooey, and I actually really like this universe. Top 10, easily.”

Tim held up his hand to stop the oncoming ramble while he compartmentalized.

First, Poltergeist knew Bruce was lost in the time stream and seemed to want to help.

Second, Bruce was making his way back to the present, and by doing so was becoming a living bomb

Third, Poltergeist is a multiversal being???

That last one can probably be ignored for now.

“If I were to let you help me find Batman, where do you suggest we start? I’ve been tracking down artifacts I think he’s left behind  to try and convince the Justice League to help us-”

“Psh. Justice League Shmustice League. My dad and my Nana and Pops are already working on it. We just need to find the cape he was sent back in time with for them. Besides, I can probably convince Wonder Woman to help us get the Justice Dorks to help out once we get the cape if we really need to.”

What.

“What?”

“My grandparents are building a thingy-thing to suck all the Omega Energy out of Batman so he’s not a bomb. My dad’s hanging out with him to keep him from dying or something, and we’re supposed to find his cape so we can safely yoink him out of the time stream.”

“I didn’t know you had parents??? What do they do while you’re here breaking things???”

Poltergeist shrugged “King things I guess. And I only have a dad.”

“King things???”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyway, Dad said he last saw Batman’s cape in the Batcave.”

“You didn’t answer my question, and I’m not taking you to the Batcave.”

Poltergeist landed on her feet, and stared at him with wide eyes. He stared back, caught in her gaze for what felt like an eternity, as he felt invisible fingers trickle up his spine. Whispers started low in his ears, building to a crescendo. It was getting too much to bear, until he broke eye contact and looked away. All of a sudden, it stopped. Tim heaved a big sigh.

“I’m… kinda fighting with the current Batman, so we’ll have to sneak in.”

She punched both arms into the air, “YES!”

Tim turned, flicking his cape and walking off, not waiting to see if she’d follow.

“Poltergeist, when this is over you are going to be answering my questions.”

He heard her blow a raspberry at his back, but kept walking.

————

He followed their trail easily enough, the rain trailing after him. As he reached his destination, men came out to fight him, readying pistols, but he made short work of them easily enough.

With his memory having returned in bits and pieces, it had been easy to fashion metal into bat shapes aerodynamic enough to hit true when thrown, and it was these he’d used to disarm the men.

These memories were useful. The ones of children with blurry faces less so, haunting him as they stayed just out of his complete grasp. A constant reminder of how lost and alone he was.

He steadily made his way to the headquarters, where he figured they were keeping Catherine. He whirled around, sensing someone approaching from behind. It was the man with white hair, again.

“Seems you’ve got this well enough in hand, but I hope you don’t mind if I’d tag along all the same.”

“Why?”

The white haired man smiled slightly. “Will you not believe that I just want to help you?”

He stared, unblinking and quiet. Memories from before had proven this a good method to get more information.

His target stared back, also quiet and unblinking. It wasn’t long before he started shifting, and not much longer before he finally spoke again. Under his breath, almost too quiet to hear, he muttered “Just like Dani, I swear…”

Louder, the man said, “I’ve not known you to be the kind of man to ever be on the wrong side of a cause. Whatever you’re up to, I just want to help.”

He squinted at the man, trying to find any evidence of a lie, but the man just appeared open and honest.

“No guns,” he says, before turning back around and leading the white haired man on towards the headquarters.

As they got closer, they noticed two men standing guard. He deployed smoke bombs to cover their approach, sneaking closer with his companion close behind. They were spotted, but the smoke did its work, scaring the two guards and allowing him and his companion to disappear from view again.

“How you gonna tell me there’s no such things as ghosts now???” One of them whimpered, apparently to his white-haired friend’s delight, as he broke out in giggles.

As the smoke continued to grow, he and his friend snuck around the two, tricking them into fighting each other.

He broke through into the offices in the back. They were unfortunately empty.

“Already gone!” He said, slamming a hand on the desk. His companion stood at the window.

“Not long though, look!”

When he spotted their carriage speeding away through the window, he knew he had to act quickly. He launched himself out of the window, and onto the tarp covering the wagon.

An explosion sounded behind him, but he focused on the task ahead of him. His friend always seemed to find his way back, so he’d have to trust he’d do it again.

The ensuing fight was nothing pretty, little more than mad scrambling as he fought to hold his balance, dodge bullets, and wrestle the men actually in the cart so he could get away with the Catherine and her family’s box.

Looking ahead, he saw they were quickly approaching the dock, and a man who was walking down it. Thinking quickly, he swung his body-weight around, tipping the wagon over and sending everyone sprawling. 

The man who had been at the dock had acted quickly, grabbing the young woman and holding her protectively behind him. He stood up, adding to the obstacles that stood protecting Catherine from her kidnappers. Only 3 men remained. From the snippets he heard as two of them fought, he figures the two fighting must’ve been the masterminds behind the plot and the third still in the distance was a gun-for-hire. Taking out his weapons of choice, he quickly dispatched the two men.

Catherine tugged on his cloak. He turned to face her, seeing that she had opened up the box, and was showing him what was inside.

It was Jack Valor’s journal.

He wanted to reach out–to see what Jack had added since they parted, but the gun-for-hire had caught up to them by then.

“My employers may have been dealt with, but I still have a reputation to uphold. Draw.”

He stood up straight, reaching for more of his weapon of choice. Over the shoulder of the gun-for-hire, he saw another man approaching quickly, white-haired. His friend.

A loud bang echoed, and he felt pain in his side. He stumbled, too close to the edge of the dock, and as he fell over he heard one last cry of ‘BAT–’.

And everything went dark.

————

Shit.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

As if Batman stumbling towards the present through who-knows-when wasn’t bad enough, now he’s SHOT???

Danny quickly ripped a portal back to Clockwork’s lair.

“Please tell me you’ve almost got the machine ready.” Danny said after confirming his parents were in the room.

“Almost! Just one problem, sweetie…” His mom said, looking over at her husband so he’d finish.

“Batman needs to die. Or at least be very close to death!” Jack said, ending with a laugh.

“Basically, we can get this machine to suck out the Omega Energy, but it’s tightly bonded with Batman’s life energy, so it’s extremely risky unless we can find a way to diminish his life energy.”

Danny groaned, putting his face in his hands. “It’s just one thing after another! He’s just been shot. Would that bring him close enough?”

His dad tilted his head back and forth, considering. “Likely not, unless he was in a pretty bad way. In any case, we asked Sam and Tucker to take a look into it!”

“We’ve already found something, actually.” Sam said, having entered the room. Tucker followed behind her.

“There’s an herb that I was able to locate, which should slow his heart down to extreme levels, to the point his heartbeat would be pretty undetectable. Only problem is that his heart would have to be jump-started afterward by a great shock.”

“Clockwork let me take a closer look at his monitors into Batman’s original time and place, and I was able to determine that they have defibrillator technology that can administer an electrical shock needed to get his heart pumping again, as well as adrenaline injections in case we’d need the extra boost.” Tucker continued.

Maddie clapped her hands together. “Excellent! If we can get the Justice League to set up the anchor point on the Watchtower, we can pull Batman to that point and perform everything there! It’d probably work best to do it in his original time as well, to avoid any potential effects that could crop up from being in the wrong time when we remove the Omega Energy and try to stabilize his system.”

“Great, some good news.” Danny said, tension leaving his body. He turned to Clockwork, who had been quiet thus far. “How’s Dani’s work coming along? Will we be ready to proceed soon?”

“Dani and Red Robin have recovered Batman’s cape, and have moved it to the Watchtower. I believe Dani was able to recruit Wonder Woman’s help into getting the rest of the Justice League in line to receive Batman.”

 ————

“Red Robin! Did you seriously bring Poltergeist into the cave??? What were you thinking?”

Before Tim could reply, Poltergeist raised a hand to point at Dick-as-Batman.

“AAH! It’s the cops! Run!”

Poltergeist placed her hand on Tim’s shoulder, pulling him and the cape through the ceiling of the batcave and up in the open air of Gotham. As Tim caught sight of Wayne Manor his head whipped towards Poltergeist, hoping she wouldn’t make any connections.

She was staring at him, lips pressed together, looking a bit like a frog.

He was quiet, waiting for her to say something.

She blew a breath of air out, letting her lips buzz.

“Listen, you keep my secret, and I won’t tell anyone Batman’s secret id is some rich fruitloop.”

“...What secret?”

She pivoted them somewhere Southeast.

“That sometimes I can be responsible. Let’s go see Wonder Woman.”

AN:

It's definitely been longer than I had planned since the last update, rip.

Not going to lie, this is like my second ever fic and I definitely thought it'd be a bit easier to get back into the habit of writing. Thought I was making it easier on my self by strongly sticking to the plot of an existing story, but I think that's been an obstacle in and of itself.

Always a little worried that the language is a bit stuffy or things aren't being clear.

[mint-yooxgi]

{7} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 8,120

Warnings: Anxiety and PTSD, mental illness, and inferred depression. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Emotional turmoil is always a fun thing haha but I promise there is light at the end of the tunnel! Next chapter should be a bit longer hopefully, so I hope you'll excuse these shorter ones for now. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six

Falling.

The harsh whipping of wind against your skin is all you can hear as you tumble towards the earth. Each breath is a struggle as you attempt to fill your burning lungs with air, the pressure of such an altitude detrimental to your every move. Your chest aches, throat scraped raw with the shrill shrieks of terror that escape you as you tumble through the sky. Tears leak from your eyes uncontrollably, lids squeezing shut in tandem as you can barely get a grip on your surroundings.

Everywhere, all you can feel is pain.

Free falling has always been described to you as a feeling of utter weightlessness, but there isn’t a cell in your body that you cannot feel. All of which are heavily screaming at you in terror. 

Never have you been able to feel the full weight of your heart as you do right now, every twitch of your fingers sending jolts of unpleasant electricity racing up your arms. The cold of your body slicing through the air is unlike any sensation you’ve felt before, and with every foot lost, you gain momentum.

Is this how it all ends? After nearly killing a man that you love, having him admit your worst fear for the moment that you are to blame, and having your heart nearly burst from your chest at the sheer pressure of its pulse, you will land upon the earth like a falling star?

Your skin begins to heat, replacing the utter cold you had been feeling only moments before.

You don’t want to die. Not like this. Not now.

You got yourself into this mess, you can certainly get yourself out of it. Though, you have no idea how far the ground is from you. You could make impact at any second, and you count yourself lucky that you’ve lasted this long already.

Concentrating hard, you focus in on your room back home. Perhaps you can simply transport yourself onto your bed, and forget that this ever happened for a little while. Hopefully, you won’t be disturbed, either. None of them will probably want to see you, anyways. Not after what you’ve done to their brother. 

Yet, no one will be able to blame you as much as you blame yourself. The guilt begins to eat you alive, mind darkening into that familiar negative territory the longer you allow your thoughts to go unchecked.

A sob tears from your throat.

Faintly, you feel several worried brushes against your void. Three are much more urgent and firmer than the others, constantly keeping pressed up against you as their strings all hum furiously with movement.

What would happen should you choose to open your mind to them? Would they forgive you? Would they figure out what’s going on and leave you to suffer? 

No. You know that they wouldn’t. They could never.

But then, how long would it take for them to find you?

Too many thoughts continue to race through your mind, clouding your better judgment and drowning you in self-doubt. Your emotions are all over the place, but the constant ache in your chest reminds you of the harsh reality that has just occurred. Honestly, you just wish you could numb the pain.

How much time do you have left? You seem to be falling for quite a while. Perhaps you started from a higher altitude than you had originally realized. Jongho’s blood is still running through your veins, after all.

Again, several frantic brushes against your void are felt, much more urgent than the first.

Fear grips you once more as you attempt to crack an eye open. You can barely see through your blurred vision, the wind whipping passed you and stinging you all over. All you can recognize is mountains, and a large lake that seems to be getting closer and closer with each passing second.

Another scream of absolute horror rips passed your lips. You feel as if your heart is about to burst from the intensity of its beating within your chest. The ground below gets closer and closer, and your mind scrambles with what to do.

Only one thought begins to get clearer and clearer: you need help.

A glint of gold flashes out of the corner of your eye, and your whole body shakes as a tremendous roar pierces through the air. A presence begins to fall alongside you, large and ominous, but you do not feel threatened. No. Instead, you are relieved; comforted in an unfamiliar way as a faint glow begins to emanate from your brow.

Suddenly, it’s as if the whole world stops.

No longer feeling the intense harshness of the wind as it whips passed you, you crack open your eyes.

A level view of the surrounding mountains greets your gaze, and it is then that you realize that you are gliding through the air. Your hands grip onto something solid beneath you, and when you look down, you see scales beneath your fingertips.

Not just any scales. 

Dragon scales.

The dragon is unlike any that you have seen before, the sheer size of it spanning at least fifty metres in length. The scales are a matte black, gold weaving throughout the cracks between and glinting beneath the light of the moon. Spikes line the crown of her head, golden veins lining the horns which protrude from her skin. Seamlessly, she blends into the night surrounding her, nothing more than a dark blur against the clouds.

You don’t have to meet her gaze to know that it’s a deep gold.

A second later, and a dark blue dragon circles around the larger one’s back, followed by a green amphiptere who’s tail flicks worriedly behind her. Both shift to fly closer to you, situating themselves above the large dragon you rest upon and flanking you on either side.

Silent tears continue to stream down your face the entire flight back to the dragon’s nest. Luckily, it seems as if you’ve managed to teleport yourself quite close by. 

Fifteen minutes later, and that little cliff face is in sight, an albino wyrm slithering restlessly back and forth.

Mon is the first to offer you help down from the large dragon’s back, sliding up beside you and allowing you to grip onto him as you climb down. Both Xiron and Yerra hover close by, offering their assistance in any way that they can.

A blink, and Wyno is standing before you.

You don’t even have a chance to say anything before both of her hands are coming up to cup your face tenderly. Nothing but concern can be seen in her golden eyes as she searches your gaze.

“My Child,” her voice is low, steady as she searches your bloodstained face. “What happened?”

Several frantic brushes are felt against your void, each male trying desperately to reach out to you. You know they’re probably worried out of their minds right now, but the feeling only makes you feel worse.

For the third time that day, you break down.

Immediately, Wyno wraps you in her arms, your whole body collapsing into her hold. Sobs wrack your entire form, tears streaming seemingly endlessly from your eyes as your grip tightens around her. Gently, she strokes your back, cooing comforting words into your ear as she begins to calm you down. 

You can faintly hear worried whines coming from the three young dragons surrounding you. Soft coos of their own escape them as you feel them tenderly nudge their heads against your lower back and legs. A reassurance that they’re all here.

“Shh,” Wyno brings a hand up to cradle the back of your head. “My Child, let it all out. I’m right here; you are not alone.”

You sob harder.

“Whenever you’re ready, My Child, know that I will listen to whatever it is you have to tell me.” She assures you.

Your void rumbles. Urgently, each male attempts to reach out to you, desperate for an answer.

Faintly, you brush back.

The instant you finish brushing against their strings, their attempts to contact you strengthen tenfold. 

You nearly stumble on your feet, legs threatening to give out at any moment. The constant feeling of them pressing against your mind only makes your mood drop further, your throat tightening as your emotions consume you.

“I can’t-“ you shake your head, whole body trembling in her embrace. “I can’t-“

“Let’s get you inside,” Wyno keeps her voice steady, wrapping her arm around your waist carefully for support as she begins to guide you towards the cave.

A minute later, and she’s sat you down in a small wicker chair. Another, and a steaming cup of tea is handed to you, the three young dragons surrounding you on either side. A cloth rests in her hands as she dabs the damp material against your skin, cleaning the now long since dried blood from your features.

Slowly, you manage to get your breathing under control, thanking Wyno lightly. She sends you a small, tense smile back. Once she’s finished cleaning you up and attending your wounds, she pulls a silk robe around her shoulders. Then, she’s sitting across from you.

“Do they at least know where you are?” Calm are her words, gentle in her inquiry.

You shake your head, taking a light sip of your tea.

“Do you want them to know where you are?”

A brief pause where you consider her question. 

A blink, and you’re shaking your head yet again. 

“At least-” your voice comes out raw and strained. You clear your throat. “At least not for now.”

“I do not know what happened, My Child, but do not underestimate the lengths they will go to find you.” She addresses you cautiously. “They would tear the whole world apart looking for you.”

Your gaze drops, a sadness taking over your features.

“Do they at least know that you’re safe?”

“I-“ you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as your head begins to pound beneath their constant bombardment. “I don’t know.”

Wyno inhales a deep breath before making a clicking sound twice through her teeth.

A blink, and Stella appears hovering in the air between the two of you.

Softly, the raven coos at you, circling lightly around your head as she sees the state of distress you seem to be in.

More clicks can be heard from Wyno, Stella landing on your shoulder and standing at attention. You swear you almost see the raven nodding in understanding.

“Do you have anything on you that Stella can bring to them to let them know you’re alright?” Wyno turns her golden gaze to you.

“Uh,” you swallow lightly, blinking all the while. “Yeah.” You clear your throat. “Yes.”

Moving your hands to the back of your neck, you unclasp the necklace you always wear. The chain hangs precariously from your hand, the replica of Arwen’s Evenstar dangling like a gem in the somewhat dim light of the cave.

“I have told Stella not to let them know where you are until you are ready to see them, but they are stubborn.” Wyno informs you. “They might demand she tell them. They may search her mind, or force it out of her with their powers. Either way, she will stay with them until the task is complete, and I summon her again.”

You nod your understanding, watching as Stella gently clasps your necklace in her beak by the chain. Another soft coo is heard from her.

“She wishes you well,” Wyno hums, somewhat approvingly. “Also, that she’ll peck out the eyes of whoever hurt you.”

You manage a small chuckle at that. 

“Thank you, Stella.” Your lips pull upwards weakly in the corners. “But I did this to myself.”

A concerned caw greets your ears.

“Hurry, Stella,” Wyno inclines her head. “Before they start tearing the realms apart.”

In the blink of an eye, the raven has disappeared from sight.

Your gaze falls to the cup in your hands, thumb tracing the side of the ceramic gently. Your shoulders curl in on yourself, but at least you immediately begin to feel some relief from their constant brushing against your void. Still, you recognize those same three strings - one royal blue, one lavender, and one yellow - all humming faintly in worry, even more so than the others.

“Now,” Wyno draws your attention back to her once more as she sits forward in her seat. “What is it that you believe you’ve done that warranted you crashing to the earth like an astroid of old?”

Your whole body stills, and you swear you forget to breathe. Finally, that feeling of numbness you had so desperately been hoping for begins to spread throughout your body. It starts in your chest, creeping outwards as you continue to stare down at the cup of tea held desperately in your hands.

Your lips part, only to close shortly after. No words escape you despite the fact that it all wants to come spilling out. You don’t want to burden Wyno with your problems. Problems of which you hadn’t realized had still been bothering you until today.

“Speak, My Child.” She keeps her tone steady, but still tender all the same. “It is best not to allow these thoughts to fester, lest they continue to consume you. I promise that I will listen, and provide my best insight should you desire it.”

Mon soon slithers beneath the legs of the chair, resting his head by your feet and nudging you in comfort. Xiron comes to sit on one side of you, while Yerra takes the other. Faintly, you register the feeling of a wing wrapping around your back in comfort. Turning your head, you see a translucent blue hue shining beneath the light of the cave. You smile weakly.

“I-“ Again, your voice catches in your throat. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Begin wherever you deem it necessary for me to understand.” She smiles assuringly at you, a hand reaching over to squeeze your knee.

Softly, you nod your head. Taking a deep breath in, you begin.

You do not start at the very beginning, no, but you go far enough back where you deem all of these current issues started. 

Naturally, you begin with Miyeon’s torture. You explain to Wyno every minute detail of that day that demon appeared in their domain. Nothing is spared, and you divulge to her the hurt you had undergone. The hurt you’re still suffering from because of her. Facts of which even the males have never been privy to, lest they recall the state your body had been in when they arrived back home.

The way you can see her jaw clench, claws sharpening into points as she curls her hands into fists on her lap has you shifting in your spot. Low, threatening growls escape her with each exhale, her fangs on full display as her lips curl back over her teeth.

Luckily, none of the males seem to appear at any point. Looks like Stella is keeping them away for the time being. A fact which helps your shoulders to relax, even unknowingly, the longer that they stay away.

Quietly, Wyno takes your one hand in hers, listening to everything you have to tell her. She is able to calm herself enough to allow you to continue, patiently sitting beside you the whole time and offering you comforts in her own way. You don’t seem to realize, but when you are explaining what happened three days after the events of Miyeon, your whole visage begins to glow softly.

Recovery is a tricky path to navigate, but even she can tell that those eight males have helped you in more ways than you realize. You spoke true two days ago, and you understand that. Even if your state of mind seems to be battling your logic and reason for the moment.

Sometime during your recount, you manage to finish your cup of tea. You place the empty cup down, only for Yerra to gently rest her head in your lap. The young dragon nuzzles into you affectionately, nothing but worry shining within her eyes. Though, she cannot help the way they flutter shut once you begin to stroke your free hand over the top of her scales.

The more you speak, the more you seem to relax. The words flow from you like a steady stream, cleansing your soul with each second that passes. The fact that Wyno simply just listens is more than you could have ever hoped for right now, and you’re grateful she’s letting you get it all out.

When you finish your recount of the harpy meeting, Wyno finally allows herself to let out a snort.

“You certainly did put that chicken in her place, My Child.” She grins, noticing how your lips quirk faintly. “Only a true Queen could do that.”

You can feel your cheeks heat, thanking her lowly before continuing.

Finally, you begin to breach the events of the last twelve hours. Of course, you remain vague about all of the explicit details, but from the knowing look in Wyno’s gaze, you can tell that she’s long since figured that out.

“Yes, I had assumed something of the sort,” Wyno nods, recognizing how you begin to slow down in your retelling as the most recent memories begin to consume you. “I can smell him all over you.”

A grimace crosses your features as your fingers begin to subtly press a little firmer into Yerra’s head. She appears to be sleeping, eyes closed as her chest rises and falls evenly while resting in your lap.

“You consumed his blood.” Not a question, but an observation.

“And he consumed mine.” You confirm.

“Which explains how we found you tumbling through the air earlier.” Wyno nods.

Your brow furrows. “I did that?”

“My child, who else could it have been?” She chuckles. “You have already divulged that the eldest’s blood allows you to glance spirit souls. Is it not so farfetched to believe that the youngest’s could allow you to teleport?”

“No.” You rub the tips of your fingers together gently over the skin of your thumb, mocking the way they would trace over your therapy pebble. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Now, tell me what warranted all of this.” She squeezes your other hand reassuringly.

You take a shaky breath in, averting your gaze in shame as you confess to everything that has just happened to you.

The whole time, Wyno remains quiet. Her golden eyes scan your face carefully, noting every small twitch of your brow and downturn of your lips. She can hear the pain you fight through with each word. The guilt, self-doubt, and remorse you hold onto comes through loud and clear.

Your gaze is haunted, and a chill runs down your spine. There are tears in your eyes as you admit to what Jongho said right before you disappeared, whole body trembling as you succumb to your emotions once more.

Faintly, you register Mon slither out from beneath the chair.

“My Child, please look at me,” Wyno’s voice is gentle as she shifts forward on her chair to get closer to you.

You raise your head, whole body nearly jolting as you feel something being placed carefully onto your shoulders

“Do you truly believe those were all of the words that he wanted to say?” Wyno reaches forward to help Mon wrap your jacket around your upper body.

Your whole body deflates. “I don’t know.”

“After the evening you have just told me the two of you had shared, do you truly believe that he would blame you for this?” Wyno attempts to reason with you, hands rubbing over your arms lightly in comfort.

“How could he not? It’s all my fault.” You choke on a sob.

“Tell me, My Child,” she manages to get you to meet her gaze and you notice her eyes flash, “do you blame them for what happened with that one?”

You blink, caught off guard by her sudden question. “Of course not! I could never-“

“Do you not think that they do not blame themselves for everything she has done, and all that she continues to do to you?” Wyno continues to reason.

“But it’s not their fault! I-” Your voice catches in your throat.

Wyno quirks a brow, looking at you expectantly. You fall silent.

“We act in ways we deem appropriate at the time in which these incidents occur. It is not your fault you were deceived; you do not control the actions of others.” She holds you firmly in her grip, squeezing your arms reassuringly. “You do not think I cannot still see the guilt that clings to them for ever allowing you to reach such a broken state at another’s hands?”

You remain quiet.

“You nine are all more alike than you think.” She hums. “Yes, you probably could have taken a moment to think things through, but when someone you love is at stake, logic is not always your friend.”

“Jongho still got hurt because of me.” You reply lowly, eyebrows drooping as you stare at the ground.

“You said he jumped in front of you. Not once, but twice, correct?” She tilts her head knowingly.

You nod your head.

“Then, that was his choice.” She shifts her hands to hold your own in her grasp once more. “He could have let you been hit both times, but he chose to save you. I have known him far longer than you, My Child, and were he feeling truly petty, he would have let both those weapons meet their marks. Do not twist his efforts to protect and help you into something that they are not. I have seen the way he looks at you. How his aura shines alongside your own. Do not make the man you love into a heartless monster. Least of all towards you.”

Tears begin to gather in the corner of your eyes for the nth time that morning, and you do whatever you can to blink them away.

The sun begins to rise over the horizon.

“Just because you blame yourself, does not mean that they will.” Wyno is a bit blunt when she says this, but you know it’s all spoken with good intent. “You made a mistake, and it seems as if this was the final piece which shattered the glass you had been looking through to keep yourself sane.”

“My Child, you are trying so hard to be brave, and strong when you haven’t allowed yourself proper time to grieve who you once were. Whether any of you wish to acknowledge it or not, that woman did kill a part of you that day. You may not have ceased to breathe, but she certainly destroyed a portion of who you once were. A portion you may never get to reclaim, nor should you want to.”

Wyno takes a moment to pause, inhaling deeply before she continues.

“I did not lie when I said that you have become stronger because of what has happened. Everything in your life leading up to this moment in time has made you who you are. As much as you wish to believe that you are passed this trauma, it will live with you every day until this whole rebellion is complete.” She states. “Whether it will end in victory or death, that has still yet to be determined. Do not create more issues where none lay.”

Your hands begin to shake, the numbness that had been felt throughout your entire body receding.

“But this is an issue, Wyno!” You practically spring to your feet, barely registering the huff of surprise Yerra lets out as she just catches her head from hitting the floor. “I indirectly hurt their brother. I nearly caused the death of a man I love because I let fear control me. How could they even bear to look at me now after what I’ve done? This incident has only just solidified that I’m barely holding myself together. I can put up a brave front, and act like I’m fine, but I’m not! I’m no Queen, and I need to stop pretending to be one.”

Wyno takes a moment to observe you carefully, golden eyes trailing over your figure as she watches you tremble in your spot. Your admission seems to have surprised even you, your eyes wide as your chest heaves.

“What is it you are truly afraid of, My Child?” She stands to her own two feet slowly.

At the way you remain silent, she’s quick to continue.

“Do you truly believe that they could hate you for this? For anything, for that matter?” She takes a step closer, staring you down all the while. “Do you believe they would turn on you for worrying about your family in the same ways that they worry about you? You have already confided in me that they've told you that they do not blame you for this. Is it not within yourself to believe them? Have they ever lied to you, least of all when your own feelings are concerned?”

Your hands cling desperately to the edges of your jacket, tears beginning to stream down your face as you watch her approach. Faintly, you register Mon brushing up against you back and holding you steady.

“Even now, I would bet all of the jewels in all of the realms that they are continuing to reach out to you in that mind of yours to know that you’re safe.” She says. “To know that you are still alive and breathing.”

Sure enough, you feel the faint brushes of assurance from all seven of them as soon as she says this. All several of their strings continue to hum in worry.

“Do you know how difficult it is to convince that Captain of theirs to change his mind when he sets his own course of action?” Wyno comes to stand before you now, placing her hands onto your arms reassuringly. “None of them have the ability to be patient when your safety is at risk, let alone your own personal wellbeing. I would bet anything that they wanted to appear here instantly after pulling the information out of Stella using any means necessary. However, they held off. For you, because that is what you asked of them.”

Your breath hitches slightly in your throat.

“Your Eight Kings do not particularly enjoy taking orders, or listening to others who attempt to command or control them.” Her tone is firm as you meet her gaze. “However, they will always listen to you.”

A blink, and you’re swallow thickly.

“No, My Child. There is no need for you to pretend to be their Queen,” she wipes your tears away so gently as she cradles your face in her hands. “You already are.”

You lower lip wobbles and she pulls you back into her embrace. One of her hands supports the back of your head while the other strokes comfortingly over your spine. Again, you bury your face into the side of her neck.

“Whether you know it or not, whether you acknowledge it or not, they have always viewed you as their Queen.” She whispers lowly into your ear.

A shudder wracks your chest as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Let me ask you this, My Child,” she tilts her head so that it rests against your own. “If the roles had been reversed, would you not have done the same? Would you not have given anything to protect him in the moment, if you had been able to?”

“Without question.” You breathe, tightening your hold subconsciously around Wyno’s back.

“This is not the first time you have experienced each other being injured in front of your very eyes.” Wyno says, and your mind flashes to the very first time you had ever met the dragons. “I’m sure it will not be the last.”

You let out a shaky chuckle. “No, I’m sure it won’t.”

“Then, cease this pointless self-blame you seem to be so adamant to condemn upon yourself.” She pulls away to stare deeply into your eyes. “Acknowledge your emotions and allow your mind to rest. It does no good to dwell on the things we cannot change. I’m sure those Kings of yours would tell you the exact same.”

The corner of your lips quirks slightly. “I tell them that all the time.”

Wyno shoots you a playfully incredulous look. “Well, there you go, My Child. Afford yourself the same leniency.”

Darting your gaze to the floor, you let out a small sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Suppose?” Wyno chuckles. “My Child, I am always right.”

A playful wink is sent your way, and you cannot help the soft puff of laughter that escapes you.

“Now, go get some rest.” She motions for you to follow Mon who brushes his head against your back again in comfort. “You must be exhausted.”

A nod is all that you can muster in response as you allow yourself to finally relax. A wave of intense fatigue washes over you, body instantly slouching as you turn to face Mon. Slowly, you trudge after him down a side path leading deeper into the cave, eyes blinking tiredly as Wyno’s words echo through your mind.

She’s right. Your emotions were high, and you overreacted. You didn’t even give them a chance to calm you down before you unknowingly transported yourself away. Still, it doesn’t make what Jongho said in the moment hurt any less, even if that might not have been what he meant.

Perhaps this is exactly how Seonghwa felt all those months ago when he royally screwed up. He did look the most concerned out of all of them, a sad understanding on his features as you practically clawed at your own face in worry.

Speaking of, you’re pretty sure you’re body is still covered in blood despite Wyno cleaning your face. Only, you cannot find the energy to care right now. Not when Mon seems to lead you to the nesting area, nudging you towards what you assume is his own bed.

With the help of Mon, you’re laying down, allowing the wyrm to settle close to you for warmth as he wraps himself protectively around you. Softly, he coos to you, and without another word, you allow the gentle rumbling of his chest to lull you to sleep.

Meanwhile, Wyno heaves a tremendous sigh as she paces back and forth just inside of the cave’s mouth. Boris’ eyes track her every movement, his head resting on the ground as he looks up at her. Repeatedly, she taps her fingers over the skin of her crossed arms, golden gaze glinting in the dark semi-dark of the cave.

For twenty long minutes, Wyno allows you to rest with the babies in the nests’ deep chamber. Long enough to sort out her own thoughts before summoning those Kings of yours here.

Making her way outside of the cave with Boris in tow, Wyno looks out upon the cliff face. Briefly, her eyes dart over to the spot where Xiron had been pinned down by an arrow, your body hunched over him for protection.

She takes a deep breath.

The second Wyno clicks her teeth to alert Stella of her request, they all appear before her. Frantic looks of concern are clear on Wooyoung’s, San’s, and Mingi’s faces, and even Yeosang is having a difficult time maintaining his composure. Seonghwa’s hands twitch, while Yunho’s gaze darts every which way in search of you.

The longer all of them go without seeing you only increases their worry tenfold. Of course, it doesn’t help that they felt a shift in your internal workings of your mind just over twenty minutes ago.

“Where is she?” Hongjoong steps forward, a wild look of desperation on his features.

“Calm yourself.” Wyno commands, raising a hand to halt him in his tracks.

Hongjoong’s eyes flash, his nostrils flaring.

“You dare tell me to ‘calm myself’ when Our Queen has been missing for hours?” His voice is low, ominous as a hint of a growl coats his words.

“She has not gone missing. She’s been here with me this whole time.” Wyno replies cooly. “I thought Stella informed you that she was safe.”

A caw is heard from the raven as she flies over to perch on Wyno’s shoulder.

“She did.” Yunho responds, somewhat bluntly. His one hand is closed into a fist, your necklace clutched tightly in his grip.

“Please, Wyno,” Yeosang begins. “We’ve been worried sick.”

“I am well aware of your urgency.” Wyno’s eyes flash, noticing how both San and Wooyoung begin to pace restlessly before her.

“Then, why won’t you let us see her?” Wooyoung snaps, clear irritation on his face as he chews on his bottom lip.

“We’ve been waiting this whole time for a summoning.” Seonghwa adds, nothing but urgency in his tone. “Please, don’t keep us from her any longer.”

“I called you here because it is easier for you to come to me, than for me to go to you.” Wyno begins, keeping her voice even and breathing steady as Boris shifts beside her.

“Are you saying that you’ll deny us entry after everything?” Hongjoong’s lips pull back in a snarl. “She is Our Queen, not yours. She does not belong to you.”

“Neither does she belong to you.” Wyno retorts, quite pointedly. Already, her patience is wearing thin.

Several low, threatening growls sound from across from her.

“We aren’t afraid to tear that whole nest apart to get her back, Wyno.” Yeosang states, tilting his head pointedly as he narrows his gaze at her. “Friend, or not.”

“Each threat you speak does not make me confident in allowing you access into my home to retrieve your beloved.” Wyno stands tall, shoulders squared as she looks across at all of them. “If you would stop to listen for five seconds, you would have already been led inside by now.”

Again, Seonghwa’s fingers twitch, but they all choose to remain quiet.

“Before I grant you access, I need to know that my own words which I have spoken in reassurance to her are true.” Wyno says, eyes narrowing pointedly. “As much as I do know you, you can all be quite unpredictable when it comes to her.”

Several low warning growls reach her ears once more.

“So, she told you what happened.” It’s not quite a question that escapes Mingi’s lips, but the hesitance comes through all the same.

“I know that because of what happened, her mind was in such a fragile state, she condemned herself to fall upon the earth freely.”

A collective stillness passes over all of them as both San and Yunho inhale sharply. Immediately, tears are springing to Wooyoung’s, Seonghwa’s, and Yeosang’s eyes. Mingi’s whole body begins trembling, chest heaving with every breath.

“No…” Hongjoong falls to his knees.

“We were lucky the bond alerted us to her distress, even unknowingly.” Wyno continues. “Even now she is still riddled with a tremendous amount of self-doubt and guilt. My words can only help her so much. She needs you.”

“Then, why are we still standing outside?” Wooyoung grits his teeth, tears cutting tracks down his cheeks as he steps towards Wyno.

A warning rumble escapes Boris’ chest, and Wooyoung scowls, freezing in place.

“Do you want to know what her biggest fear out of all of this was?” Golden eyes observe them carefully, watching every subtle twitch of their brows.

“Wyno-“

A sharp look from the dragon stops Mingi’s words right in their tracks.

“She was terrified of you.”

Their hearts drop, and each male stills in their spot. Not even their chests move as they forget how to breathe, more tears falling freely down each of their faces.

“She was terrified of what you might do to her in retribution for harming Jongho.” Wyno infers. “She believed, despite it all, that you would hate her. That you would despise her, and curse her very existence for what she’s done.”

This time, it’s Seonghwa who falls to his knees. His hands brace himself on the ground, sobs wracking his entire body as he attempts to catch his breath. All he can think of is how badly he’s failed you yet again.

Yunho places a hand onto Yeosang’s shoulder, noticing how the younger male has gone eerily quiet. Were it not for the fact that Yunho can still hear Yeosang’s heart thundering inside of the shorter male’s chest, he would have thought that the younger had died as soon as those words had left Wyno’s lips.

Immediately, San wraps Wooyoung in his embrace, letting the younger male sob violently into his neck. Both of them begin shaking uncontrollably, clinging to each other for dear life.

Behind him, Hongjoong can hear Mingi cursing. Knowing the younger male, he’s probably pacing and ripping at his hair as tears fall freely from his eyes. However, all Hongjoong can do at the moment is stare forward, nothing but the crushing weight of devastation suffocating his heart and flooding his entire being with a numbness unlike ever before.

“But she didn’t harm him.” San’s voice trembles, and he feels Wooyoung squeeze him tighter.

“It wasn’t her fault.” Yeosang states, voice sounding much calmer than he is right now.

“We would never-“ Seonghwa chokes on a sob, “could never blame her for this.”

“There is next to nothing in this world, or in all of the realms that could make us hate her.” Yunho keeps his words low, even. “Let alone blame her.”

A firm nod from Wyno is all they receive in response.

“How could she ever think we could hate her?” Wooyoung’s breath stutters with his wails, that complete feeling of devastation choking him out just as it does with the others.

“I do not think she had been thinking clearly, given the events that had occurred throughout the night.” Wyno says. “You seven should be all too familiar with what the weight of crushing guilt can do to your reason. All rational thought ceases to exist.”

A hushed understanding passes over all of them as they nod solemnly.

“Please, Wyno,” Hongjoong finally lifts his gaze. “Please, take us to her.”

Never before has Wyno seen the man before her look so utterly broken. Yet, she knows. She just knows that this is all just fallout from that reckless and selfish demon who has haunted you since the eight of them all fell in love with you. Since they chose you to be their Queen.

Softly, Wyno nods her head.

“I will take you to her.” She voices gently. “However,” they all tense, “you need to all realize why I had to go about it this way.”

“Do you truly believe that we are capable of ever hurting her?” Mingi’s crestfallen expression says it all.

“No.” Wyno shakes her head lightly. “I do not.”

“Then, why-“

San’s inquiry gets cut off by the eldest’s shaky voice.

“You did this for her.”

Wyno’s golden gaze flits between all several of the males now turned towards her. Her expression says it all.

“Come.” She turns, guiding Boris back into the cave with her. “She’s currently sleeping.”

The walk through the cave is silent, save for the few sniffles that Wyno can hear coming from some of the males behind her. Luckily, they seem to manage to compose themselves just as they reach the nesting area.

Frowns tug at their features as they don’t immediately see you.

“Where…?” Hongjoong’s brow furrows, knowing that he and his brothers can just make out the faintest hints of your scent mixed in with the rest.

“There.” Wyno motions off to the side with her head.

Shifting their gazes to where Wyno has guided them to, they see both Yerra and Xiron curled up with each other. A wing from each dragon is spread out between them, as if covering something hidden beneath.

Slowly, the two babies retract their wings as they get closer, and the sight that greets them would normally be adorable given any other circumstance.

There you rest, curled up with your arms around Mon as you sleep soundly. The babies surround you on either side, keeping you warm as your jacket seems to have fallen off of your shoulders. Mon is more than happy to be held in your arms, and he continues to let out gentle coos as you sleep, reassuring you that they’re all here to protect you.

Unfortunately, it seems as if the slight shifting around you has woken you up.

Groggily, you blink around at your surroundings, your head lifting as you attempt to gather your bearings for the moment. With the help of Mon, you manage to sit, rubbing at your eyes all the while as he slithers around your back. The albino wyrm curls around you protectively as you hear several sharp inhales come from in front of you.

You freeze, but what you fail to see is how all of them take a hesitant step towards you.

A soft call of your name has you slowly lowering your hands, somewhat cautiously. You blink to clear your vision, and the instant you see them all standing in front of you, tears spring to your eyes once more.

Nothing but concern is on each of their features as they look at you, their hearts squeezing painfully as they hear your own begin to thunder inside of your chest.

Carefully, San takes a step forward, his hand raising to reach out to you. “Baby-“

“I’m sorry.” Your lower lip trembles, the first of your tears spilling onto your cheeks. Your voice is raw, all of the events finally catching up to you as you attempt to clear your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, whole body beginning to shake. “I’m sorry.”

Arms wrap around you instantly, and you jump as you feel yourself being pulled into someone’s chest. Unknowingly, your one hand fists his shirt for dear life.

“Shh, My Divine.” Seonghwa soothes you, rocking you gently in his embrace as his hand strokes over the back of your head. “It’s okay.”

You sob harder, more apologies falling from your lips.

“It’s not your fault, Dearest.” Yeosang keeps his voice low so as not to startle you.

“We’re not mad at you.” Mingi is the next to speak. “We could never be mad at you for this.”

“Please, My Love, do not think that we are.” Hongjoong kneels beside you, reaching out to tenderly caress your back.

“If anything, we thought we were going to lose you.” Yunho breathes, a hint of fear clinging to the edges of his words.

Wooyoung collapses in front of you, grasping your hands in his desperately. “Please don’t run from us like that again. We would never forgive ourselves if something happened to you.”

“We could never hate you, Starlight.” Mingi whispers, stepping in closer.

“Please don’t be afraid of us.” San pleads, swallowing somewhat thickly. “We could never, never hurt you, Baby.”

With each male that speaks, you manage to calm down more and more. Apologies no longer fall from your lips, and your breathing is starting to even out. It seems as if you’re able to finally begin thinking clearly with all of them surrounding you like this.

Softly, you begin to nod your head and a collective sigh of relief if heard from all of them.

Wooyoung squeezes your hands, smiling at you faintly. “Please, don’t scare us like that again.”

“We were in a frenzy trying to find you until Stella showed up.” Mingi admits, running his hand through his hair which stands on end in every direction.

“Let’s get you home, My Love.” Hongjoong stands, helping you to your feet along with Seonghwa.

A catch in your breath as you are swooped up into the eldest’s arms.

“You should get some rest, My Divine.” He pulls you tighter against his chest, holding onto you securely as if you might disappear again at a moment’s notice.

All you can offer them is a small nod in response before you’re all turning to face Wyno once more.

“Thank you for watching over her.” Yunho tilts his head in acknowledgement towards the alpha of the dragons, clutching your necklace a little firmer in his hand.

“Always.” Wyno hums, a small upturn to her lips as she watches you rest in Seonghwa’s arms. It looks as if you’ve finally calmed down, for your head leans against his shoulder, your breathing evening out steadily. “I am more than happy to provide for one of our own.”

Exhaustion tugs at the edges of your consciousness, but you force yourself to stay awake. Just enough so that you can turn your head towards Wyno.

Softly, you incline your head in her direction, blinking at her gently as you mouth your gratitude. She mirrors your movements, a tender smile pulling at her features in understanding.

“Go home, My Child,” her voice is low, nothing but a sweet caress to your ears. “Allow yourself to rest.”

A small nod is all she receives in response before the eight of you are disappearing from sight.

The front foyer is quick to greet you after that. It appears to have been cleaned, everything back in its regular place, and no Jongho in sight.

Seonghwa goes to take a step towards your room before your voice is halting him right in his tracks.

“Please,” the call is weak, but they all still manage to hear, “I need to see him."

An understanding passes over all of them, and immediately, Seonghwa is stepping towards the youngest’s room with the others surrounding you both. Hongjoong is quick to push open the door, guiding the way inside as you all follow behind. Once beside Jongho’s bed, Seonghwa softly sits you on top of the covers.

Swallowing thickly, you take in the sight of a still unconscious Jongho. He looks so peaceful, sleeping soundly beneath the comfort of his sheets. His chest rises and falls evenly, and he doesn’t appear to be in any pain, but you still cannot prevent the way your heart twists in guilt seeing him like this.

You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking tenderly against his skin.

“He’ll be okay, Dearest.” Yeosang reassures you, moving to sit beside you on the bed.

“He just needs some rest,” Wooyoung affirms, a slight nod to his head.

“Just like you do, My Love.” Hongjoong places a comforting hand onto your shoulder.

“Are you injured?” Mingi finally voices his concerns, noting how all of his brothers turn to observe you carefully now.

You shake your head, voice rough as you speak, “Wyno healed me.”

“We’re sorry we couldn’t be the ones to take care of you this time.” Seonghwa averts his eyes in shame, and you notice how the others do as well.

Again, you shake your head. “That’s not on you. That’s on me.”

“Petal,” Yunho’s worried voice reaches your ears.

“It seems all we ever do is apologize to each other,” you say, somewhat lowly.

“It’s hard not to feel remorse when it concerns the one you love.” Hongjoong squeezes your shoulder gently, and you’re briefly reminded of that talk you had with him in the garden all those months ago. You place your hand atop his. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You look up at him, protests forming on your lips.

“You’ve had a long night, Dearest.” Yeosang reasons, helping you back to your feet. “You need to rest.”

“Besides, he’ll probably be all better by the time you wake up.” San assures you, a light smile pulling at his features.

A small weight is felt settling onto the skin of your upper chest, and you turn your head to see Yunho securing your necklace behind you.

“Thought you might want this back.” His voice rumbles out lowly, a faint upturn of his lips as he sees your fingers brush over the jewel hanging over your skin once more.

“Come on, Angel.” Wooyoung begins to lead you out of the room with Seonghwa. “We can talk about everything later. For now, let your mind rest. We promise we’ll take good care of you.”

You nod, allowing the comfort of Your Kings to surround you once more as you fully embrace the light of the morning sun shining through the windows. The night might have been dark, but you know. You just know that everything will be alright with them by your side. 

Jongho will be fine.

[merriepy]

✎﹏﹏﹏Autumn Sun

Sova x afab!Reader

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, oneshot

cw: slightly suggestive (?)

summary: After you've felt down for the past few days and now refuse to come out of your room, Sova decides to try to help you with your struggles

a/n: I've pretty much read every single Sova story on here so I needed to make my own because I'm starving qwq

Words: 1,502

Your room was lit up by the soft evening light of the autumn sun. It wrapped everything in its soft, orange glow; everything except that heart of yours which was dyed in black. Truth was, you haven't been feeling great at all lately. You were so used to it that you didn't care anymore. Was there a particular reason why these feelings were stirring up inside of you? You couldn't tell anymore.

"Y/N?" you heard from behind the door. A voice so gentle and soft that it felt more like a melody; a melancholic melody as you acknowledged the concerned tone in his voice. You knew that you could just send him away, out of everyone in the Protocol he was by far the most respectful one and he would do as you say immediately. But you were longing for affection and comfort. So, despite immediately regretting your decision, you let him in.

Sova was the kind of person whose mere presence was enough to change the mood of the entire room. Whenever he was standing next to Brimstone during meetings his deadly calm aura would send shivers down your spine. And yet, he was by far one of the most caring people you've ever met in your life. He would commonly check up on everyone in the Protocol, and maybe that's why you didn't like him: because he was not only paying attention to you.

He walked over to your bed, and as you expected him to sit down on your bed and ask you if you wanted to talk to him he bent over the top part of your blanket and pulled it down until he could see your eyes. His smile was warm as always. "Sasha…" While checking the temperature on your forehead with his hand he made sure to keep eye contact with you. "I don't want to ask if you're okay 'cause… I mean it's pretty obvious that you're not fine." He took a step back from your bed, tilting his head a little bit while asking you silently with his eyes if you wanted him to leave or to stay. You felt tears rolling down your eyes as you visualized how the conversations might go with him and yet you still nodded, begging him to not leave you alone.

"Any space for me?" he asked and gave you another heartfelt smile. You knew that he was thanking you for trusting him and accepting his offer. After moving to the left side of the bed, you invited him to lie down next to you. He happily obliged.

You stayed quiet for some time and the awkward silence grew between you two. You didn't know what to say, you didn't know how to put this misery of yours into words, you didn't know how to start. And he could tell, especially since you didn't make any effort to hide your struggle. He placed his hand on your cheek and moved a little closer to you. "Deep breaths, Y/N." It still felt weird nowadays when people called you by your actual name and not your codename even though you and Sasha were always doing it when you were alone. "Take your time, I will wait for you."

Tears started to roll down your face. The comfort he gave you made you tear up as you were able to release the sorrow within you. "Sasha…" you cried out, wanting to thank him but not being able to properly produce a sentence between your sobs. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. You placed your head carefully on his chest and calmed yourself down by listening to his heartbeat. While your tears slowly started to get less and less, Sasha placed his right hand on your head and slowly stroked over your hair.

"Is it really okay if I tell you about it?" you asked carefully without looking into his eyes out of shame. "I don't want to burden you with anything." Sova stopped his hand and moved it up to your chin. Gently, he shifted your head up so he could look into your eyes. "You're never a burden to me, darling." He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. The spot where he had laid his lips on your skin still felt comfortably warm and you wished that he would continue kissing you.

Tears rolled down your face once more as you told Sasha about everything that was bothering you recently. How you were always there for anybody and it felt like nobody had your back, how you felt like your friends were bonding over experiences you couldn't share, how the stress was getting to you physically and emotionally. During all of this, he stayed mostly silent and just let you talk about anything that you needed to get off your chest. He commented from time to time on your statements or he turned around to hand you a tissue from your nightstand.

"So I feel like I'm falling behind, you know? I just… don't want to be outcasted." Sova brushed the tears off your face with his fingers. "I understand," he said calmly, his hand still resting on your cheek. You suppressed the last few tears and smiled at the man next to you. "Thank you for being here, Sasha. And for… well, listening to my stuff," you mumbled with your voice still trembling. "I think I'm done now."

The man ran his fingers down your cheeks until his hands reached the back of your neck. He pulled you even closer until you could feel his breath on your lips. "I will always be there for you, Y/N. And I will always listen to you and your struggles." Before you could reply, he had pressed his lips onto yours. You could taste his favorite tea through the kiss, as well as the passion he was holding for you. Your hand wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer than he already was. The warmth of his presence made you feel so very much at ease that the last few painful tears ran down your face. Sasha quickly brushed them off your cheeks before pulling you on top of him.

You didn't expect such a sudden move from him and since he is pretty strong he had no problems placing you exactly where he wanted to. He grinned as he watched your flustered expression. His hands moved under your clothes but before he did anything else he looked at you. Your face was still a little red. "Do you want me to continue?" You felt how your heart picked up pace after hearing his words and you nodded quickly. You didn't want him to stop, under no circumstances. "Tell me if I'm going too far," he whispered into your ear before kissing your neck. His fingers ran down your sides, every movement making you feel better and better. Sova made sure to not come too close to your private parts and it made you feel comfortable knowing that he was so respectful of your boundaries. Your arms were still placed around his waist but you didn't want to move since everything was too perfect right now. He continued kissing your neck down to your shoulder and you just enjoyed it, taking in all those feelings that stirred up inside of you.

"Finally feeling better?" he asked as he pulled far enough away from you to properly keep up eye contact. His hands had stopped moving and he was now holding you in place; gently, yet somewhat protective. You just smiled happily. "Thank you for cheering me up, Sasha!" You firmly wrapped your arms around his hand and pressed your body against his with your head resting on his shoulders. He loosened his grip so you could move more freely. "I told you that I'm always here for you, my love." Sova looked outside the window, the autumn sun was about to fully fade away behind the trees. When his gaze had wandered back to you, he smiled warmly and gave you a quick kiss. "Because I love you, Y/N." You returned his soft smile and words of affirmation.

Sova stood up from your bed and reached his hand out for you. "What do you say, love? Wanna go outside and enjoy the rest of this beautiful evening?" A red blush hushed over your cheeks, flattered by his request despite everything that had happened earlier. You cherished that he wanted to spend that much time with you. By taking his hand you lifted yourself from your bed into the man's arms. "You're so cute, love~" he whispered into your ear. You passionately kissed him as a response to which he happily obliged. "I love you, Sasha," you told him after your kiss had ended and he had let go of you. He laughed softly and wrapped his left arm around your shoulder. "I love you just as much."

[noproofread]

Haunted Hearts

"And if I ever catch the ones who hurt you I'm hoping that God looks away this time"

‼️Spoilers for Summit War Arc (impel down and marineford)‼️

Inspired by The New National Anthem (im hoping to finish the ptv inspired fics before i move on to other ones lol)

angst, sad, just really depressing honestly im sorry. mentions of drinking. intimacy, non explicit. Reader struggles to get over Ace.

word count: 1,310

masterlist here

tag list: @vangowithit @fanaticsnail

For weeks your routine had been the same. Wake up, wait for the newspaper, stare at the transponder snail, eat, stare at the vivre card in your possession, buy groceries, stare at the transponder snail, sleep, repeat. It wasn’t unlike him to not call you for days at a time. But it was always days. It had been weeks. You were concerned, anxious. The vivre card in your hand was deteriorating, burning away slowly in your hand. Your heart ached at the possibilities. You wanted to have faith in Ace. He was a commander for Whitebeard, he could handle himself. But you couldn’t help feeling worried about him. You found yourself staring through the window, awaiting the newspaper every day with hope that you’ll find an answer to his radio silence. Then it came.

Your hands shook, your eyes teared up as they scanned the words on the page in front of you. “Fire Fist Ace”, commander for Whitebeard, Portgas D. Ace, was heading for execution. Tears fell from your eyes, dampening the paper you held in your hands. You could barely contain your sobs. Surely someone’s going to help him. Someone has to. You tossed the newspaper to the floor and locked yourself in your room. Under your bed was a box. A box that contained mementos of the time you spent with him. Crying, you went through all of its contents.

A shell from the shore you met him on. He was on a small boat, you didn’t even suspect he was a pirate at first until you recognized his face from the wanted poster outside of your place of work. He had a warm smile, genuine. You had offered him food and water and he had refused it. “I’m not eating if you’re not eating with me” He stated. The sun lit him from behind, his freckles enchanted you. You had smiled at him, accepting his proposal as your heart fluttered.

It was getting hard for you to breathe. Sitting on the floor of your room, you grabbed a red bead from the box. A bead from his necklace, from when it broke, from when you helped fix it. You had apologized to him, with a flushed face. After all, it broke because you were drunk. Drunk people are impulsive. You had pulled him in to kiss him, pulled his necklace. You were freakishly strong when you were intoxicated. The necklace broke in your hand and you promised to fix it. Ace only laughed and accepted your help. “Sober up and rest. We’ll fix it tomorrow.” He told you, helping you to your room and tucking you in. He had kissed your forehead before leaving to sleep on the couch in your living room.

You were crying hard, hiccupping as you continued going through the box. You flipped the box upside down, spilling its contents on the floor in desperation. You scrambled on the floor, your sobs were becoming more uncontrollable as you stared at the vivre card. His vivre card. It inched slowly on the floor, moving towards your door, burning slightly. It moved past an empty bottle of sake. The bottle you shared on your birthday. He had stolen it for you but you didn’t care about the stealing. You were surprised that he figured out it was your birthday. You had passed the bottle back and forth. Ace could handle his liquor, you couldn’t. He knew that. He had made an effort to drink more than you so you wouldn’t get too drunk. He wanted you to remember that night.

That night. The way he carried you to your room bridal style. He gently placed on the bed before hovering over you. The way his lips tasted of liquor, sweet and slightly bitter. The feeling of his hands on your body, the way he gently caressed and traced every curve. The softness of his lips on yours. The feeling of both of you moving together, it truly felt like you were on fire with every touch. He woke you up in the morning, surprised you with breakfast. Yes it was two pieces of toasted bread and a glass of milk but he was sweet, thoughtful. “I’m not a good cook but I hope you like it!” He had kissed your forehead, smiling at you.

You clutched the bottle, held it close to you as you choked. Your sobs had turned quiet. You were exhausted. Climbing onto your bed you hoped that he would be okay. He had to be okay. Whitebeard would come to his aid, you were sure of it. His brother would come to his aid. He would be fine. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift to sleep. You knew he would be there, in your dreams.

He was. In your dream, he was beautiful as always. His sun kissed skin, his dark hair that peeked out from under his hat, his warm aura. He was there. Ace walked over to you and cupped your cheek. You cried at his touch. It felt real. He smiled at you, nudging you slightly to look at him. “Don’t cry. I’m right here, see?” You met his gaze, trying your best to smile. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” He comforted you. You knew it was a dream but you also knew you needed this. You needed him to tell you. Ace took off his hat, placing it on your head. He tugged on the strings as he moved closer to you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “It’s okay.” He whispered.

You felt yourself waking up. Your room was pitch black and your head was pounding. You slowly sat up, staring down at the messy floor. You took a deep breath as you crunched down to pick up the clutter. Your memories with Ace, you placed them back in the box. You held on to the vivre card for a minute. Looking at the faint orange hue the edges had as it continued to burn slowly. You sighed, remembering your dream. Ace would want you to have faith in him. But he would also want you to move on with your life. But why would you want to do that? Why would you want to let him go? He was still alive, he was still okay, why would you give up on him? You tried to cry again but no tears formed in your eyes, you were all cried out. The effort only made your head hurt more. You placed the vivre card back in the box and slid it under your bed.

You got up and left your room, stopping at a window. You stared, waiting for the newspaper. You needed to know that someone was going to go get him. Someone had to. You weren’t going to give up on him. You couldn’t do anything yourself but you weren’t going to give up on him. It was still dark outside, nonetheless you stared. You waited. You saw as the sun rose, painting the sky with a beautiful glowy orange. It reminded you of him. The sky began to glow blue as the sun took its place. People began to walk outside, running errands, going to work. You saw the newspaper drop on your doorstep and you practically ran to get it. You knew there wasn’t going to be any updates. You just found out that Ace was going to be executed, it hadn’t happened yet. Part of you hoped he broke out of Impel Down, or that Whitebeard himself had done something. But none of your prayers were answered. The newspaper contained nothing about Ace, or Whitebeard. You set it down and continued your routine. You stared at the transponder snail, you ate, you went into your room and stared at the vivre card…

[streamat4am]

Could I request some Weds cockwarming Enid with idk either another au

uhhh Bodyguard or Tongue and Teeth or uh demom au idfk lol one of them

get some good 'ol bodyguard!

tag: enid being sensitive. Wednesday being way too enamored by enid's dick/ lowkey oral fixation instead of cockwarming so uh

whoops, sorry bud

-

Enid is a professional. Its one of things she's been praised for constantly actually!

Professional is what she's meant to be. Professional meant distance, meant setting boundaries and doing what the contract says. Professional certainly doesn't mean taking them whenever and wherever they want.

Unless..?

"You're here to make my load easier," Enid remembers Wednesday say.

Except, Enid could be hearing things because honestly? it was hard to think when Wednesday had a hand down her pants, it was hard to remember more when she sunk to her knees.

"its only right I return the favor."

That's a lie. Enid remembers that Wednesday looks pretty. She has always been pretty but when she's left with ruffled hair and dilated eyes, sobbing, choking and pleading- Enid couldn't stop the thought that she looks delicious.

So, Enid has seen a lot of things but this was something else. Usually, whenever they end up stuck in some hall or closet, there was a rush; A need that Wednesday wishes to be taken care off.

This? this was relaxed.

Maybe it was light hold she has on Enid's base, the slump in her shoulders and the way she curled in between the werewolf's legs but Enid couldn't stop herself from leaning back and sighing as that tongue carefully lapped along her lenght.

The wolf didn't know what to feel. They hadn't-

They were never slow, not until now. Wednesday looked insulted when Enid asked if she should take it easy the very first time they did this so she learned to zip her mouth after that. Her service taught her many things, one of them is learning to pick her battles.

Wednesday wanting it hard is one she will lose.

So Enid closes her eyes because shit, Wednesday had no right to be so good with her mouth. The wolf didn't know what to feel, she was so tempted and raring to go but Wendesday was leading so what could she do?

A whine pulls from her lips when Wednesday swirls her tongue over the tip, slowly pulling away to suck around her head. She hums, uncaring of the way Enid's thigh spasms.

Enid couldn't stop herself, tiny gasps escaping when Wednesday fully pulls away to dip down and nuzzle at her base with those so smooth lips. I'm going insane, the blond thinks, half awake and half thinking she's dreaming. I can't believe this is happening.

Ohmyfucki- Enid pressed a hand to her mouth and she feels copper spill into her tongue when Wednesday's hands move to try and pull her even closer. Its disgusting, the taste, but it makes the haze of her mind disappear even for a bit and leaves Enid sitting in the couch absolutely breathless.

All throughout, Wednesday didn't seem know the amount of struggle her bodyguard was in, too busy lapping along the loose skin around the base before sucking.

She isn't even inside and her knot was already begging to grow. Enid squeezed her eyes shut, another heat joining her cheeks when Wednesday sighs as her tongue pressed at the thing that could keep them close.

"wed-" her words stutter and before she knows it, Enid hooks two fingers in that mouth. Its too much, if Wednesday continues she's going to blow.

Wednesday makes a noise, one that doesn't know if she should be mad or not but still eagerly slurping at her fingers and taking it as far into her throat.

"Wednesday," Enid murmurs, awed at what she's seeing. Its lovely, its beautiful and it has the wolf dipping her head because fucking hell, the things this woman does to her. "C'mere doll."

Wednesday whines before her breath hitches at the weight of Enid's hand on the back of her neck. She follows, of course she does and such obedience earns her kisses along her jaw.

She squirms throughout, her hands pressed against enid's chest and groaning when the wolf takes her fingers away to press her thumb onto her tongue instead.

"beautiful," Enid whisper, pulling that lovely face closer to nuzzle her nose against Wednesday's. Its not a kiss. They don't kiss but its close enough that Wednesday does the same, her breaths light and panting.

They sink in this moment for a second until Wednesday is grinding on her, a light push and slide along her cock. She's dripping, absolutely needy and warm.

"Put it inside," Wednesday says, their tiny break allowing a tiny flicker of thought to push through, before her eyes dip and she lets go. "please?"

Yeah, Enid knew she was fucked after that.

Fuck professionalism, who needs that when she has the woman she loves this close?

Just this once, Enid will let herself want.

[chokesonspit]

ITADORI YUUJI X FEM!READER

ᡣ𐭩 tags - teethrotting fluff that may make all your organs explode, reader is insecure, established relationship, some angst maybe??? idrk reader basically talking down on herself, COMFORT!!! itadori is a bit ooc i think?? ᡣ𐭩 word count - 1.03k ᡣ𐭩 author's note - yikes i kinda disappeared, but here's part 2!! @rribbons more itadori fluff if this counts!! im also working on a toge x reader, thank you so much for your kind words <3

ᡣ𐭩 part 1

“...I’m sorry. I keep ruining the mood, thank you for taking me out today. I had a lot of fun.” You smile, trying to hide any hints of your previous distress. Awkwardness hung in the air, causing you to fidget with your fingers. You cursed at yourself for creating this mood, but at the same time it wasn’t like Yuuji to be so quiet. 

He suddenly came to a halt, turning to face you. There was an unreadable expression that made up his face, as he furrowed his brows, catching you by surprise. “Why do you always say that?” 

You didn’t know how to respond, as you studied his face, trying to figure out what he was talking about. It scared you, how serious he was. Never in your entire relationship has he looked at you this way. 

“You’re always talking down on yourself, I’ve noticed it before too, but it’s just gotten worse over the months,” his voice is slightly breaking, looking at you with such desperation. “...and I feel so helpless and I don’t know how to stop you from feeling this way and-” he continues to ramble, a shine now evident in his eyes, an indication of the tears that were forming. 

You immediately felt your heart throb. This man was too good for you. You felt like bursting into tears as well, the sincerity laced in his words touching the depths of your heart. It was as though you were finally seen, everything you had tried to hide, tried to keep to yourself was now handled gently and with utmost care. Your eyes started to tingle, tears threatening to fall out. The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, as your voice croaked. 

“Let’s not talk here,” you manage to say, despite the strong splashes of emotions that were overflowing you at that moment. He nodded, a soft smile smoothening the creases of frustration as he slightly relaxed himself. He moved the pastry bag from one hand to another, bringing you close to him as he wrapped his free hand around your waist. The pregnant silence has returned, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. The cool evening air lingered, sounds of the matched footsteps echoed in the lonely streets. 

 You pulled him into a tight embrace, one that spoke more than any words you would’ve been able utter at that moment. Silent tears slowly made its way down your face, dampening his shirt. His arms travelled up your back, trying to be as close to you as physically possible. 

“You’re too good for me. What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?” Your voice was raspy, muffled by the hug, but it held raw emotions. 

The soft warm lights that radiated off of the bedside lamps bounced off of both of your figures, as you gently let go, settling to rest your head on his shoulders. He wiped the tears off of your face, as you quietly sniffled. It felt like a weight was lifted off of you, the relief of being able to cry and sob out like that nourished and washed out the tightness in your chest. 

“I’m sorry for never telling you about how I felt… I never wanted to burden you with any of my problems.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, so your eyes were fixated on the blanket that Yuuji had wrapped you around. 

“Don’t apologize, and don’t ever think you could be a burden on me. I just want to help you. I want to be there for you, and I want you to share all your struggles so I can see you smile more often.” His voice was quiet and subtle, delicate in ways that could not be described. 

A pause has followed, as you finally gazed into his loving, warm eyes, ones that would always smile at you with such affection. You took a deep breath in, words finally flowing out of your mouth. 

“I’ve never seen myself as anything worthy of you. I’m nothing special. I don’t have any sort of talent, I’m not lively or popular, and I’ve always just… just been on the side. Not that it matters, anyway.” You let out a soft chuckle, laughing a bit at yourself. “I’m not even your type,  yet it’s like I’m always on the receiving end of your affection. I wish I could stop being so pathetic, to become someone worthy of your love.” You lightly dug your nails into your arms, a subtle form of self loathe.

He held you closer, bringing in a comforting warmth. “You just don’t see how amazing and naturally charming you are. You keep belittling yourself. You’re not realizing all of those parts of you that I see, that everyone else does. ” He slightly winces, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I love the way you’re always so considerate of others, observing and making sure people are comfortable with you. I love how passionate you are about your hobbies, how you don’t give up on perfecting your skills. I love how you’re always there for people even if you don’t know them very well, yet you don’t let others take advantage of you. I love how you are kind instead of simply being polite and saying things you don’t mean. I love how despite your occasional awkwardness, you’ll talk to people that seem lonely.” He went on, sincerity spoke through his tender touch. 

Your eyes gaze over his, the corners of them stinging with the heartfelt tears that were about to come out once again. 

He nudged you gently to lay down on your back, as he stayed on top of you, your legs in between his. He then cupped your face, placing soft, lasting kisses all over it. He knew that you were also self conscious about your body, something you’ve never dared say to anyone out loud. 

“You’re so, so beautiful.” He let out a shaky breath, intertwining his fingers with yours, an electrifying touch. “And who said you weren’t my type? That was before I met you. Everything you are right now, your body and soul, is all I ever want.” 

thank you 4 reading!! coping after reading some rlly bad angst hell yeah