#pin but I don’t remember what their pronouns were

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

My gender is just whatever the hell is going on with rise!leo

[sincerelyneo]

teeth | l.hc

“fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet”

💿now playing: teeth by 5 seconds of summer

❯ summary: Traditionally the caption of the cheer team and the captain of the soccer team are friends - some even date. But you and Donghyuck definitely aren’t friends - if anything you’re enemies. The two of you can’t go five minutes without an argument. So, why are you letting him fuck you in the locker room?

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: college!au, enemies with benefits, smut

❯ words: 2.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, bickering, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), hate sex, degrading names, general name-calling, manhandling, haechan is an asshole, but reader is also lowkey mean, choking, use of nickname 'princess', reader uses she/her pronouns, hardly any plot, it's literally just them hate fucking idk what to tell ya.

cheeky author's note: i'm very brtish, so referring to this as soccer literally made me want to rip my hair out 😀

“You don’t have to be so rough you know, Hyuck!”

"Will you just shut up and let me fuck you!?" He snaps.

The red metal of Lee Donghyuck's locker is cold against the skin of your bare back. Honestly, you don’t even know how it happened. But somehow the captain of the soccer team (and the boy you swear you hate) has you pinned against the boy’s lockers, one leg wrapped around his waist and the top half of your cheer uniform hiked up just enough to give him a full display of your tits. His left-hand grips your hip so tightly that you’re certain he’s doing it on purpose just to piss you off.

Not only that, but he also has your skirt bunched up around your waist. Giving him just the right amount of easy access to pull your panties to the side and tease his cock between your folds.

"Will you just hurry up and stick it in!?" You try to yell at him but, from the way he’s teasing the head of his cock at your entrance, the attempt comes out like a feeble whine.

Exactly on command, the scowl on your face quickly morphs into a wince, and the annoyed quirk on your lips disappears to form a small 'o' as Hyuck’s grip on your hip hardens and he pushes his cock quickly into your cunt. You can’t complain though - you did just tell him to stick it in.

"Shit," you squirm, hand coming up to his chest, pressing hard against the badge of his soccer uniform that rests on his right peck.

"Now look who’s needy," He teases. "I vividly remember you saying I’d be the shittest fuck on the soccer team."

"That’s what this is about!? You’re still mad that– uhh," you’re cut off by your own moan and your nails sink into the fabric of his shirt when he starts to move his hips. His pace is surprisingly slow - deliberately teasing - in comparison to his rapid first thrust inside of you.

"Christ! Even when you fuck you talk too much," Hyuck curses, his hand wrapping around your arm to free himself from the grip you have on his shirt.

"You're one to talk," You hiss back. "Even when you fuck you’re still an annoying little asshol– "

You gasp as he pulls out of you completely and then thrusts into you once again.

"You could've at least warned me, you dick,” You exhale, your walls readjusting to his size for the second time - and what a big size he was.

“Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture princess.”

You can’t believe that even when he’s buried to the hilt inside of your pussy he’s still calling you that stupid fucking nickname. It’s not the word ‘princess’ itself that bothers you per se; it’s Lee Donghyuck’s intention behind the name that makes your blood blister with anger. He’s been calling you ‘princess’ since your freshman year in college but you’d only ever inquired about it recently.

You were at a party, and even though you hate the bones of Lee Donghyuck, you’d be lying if you said your social circles didn’t overlap. It was inevitable, he’s on the soccer team, you’re a cheerleader; honestly, the two of you should be friends. But you’re not. And because of your strained relationship, it was no surprise that the minute you walked through the door he’d picked a fight with you.

You can't even remember what the argument was about now, but you know the two of you had gone back and forth in a boxing match of insults that always ended with him throwing the word ‘princess’ at the end of his rebuttals. And you really couldn’t quite understand why. In your mind, being called a princess was a compliment, but to Donghyuck, princesses were “spoilt bitches who have no grip on reality.”

Safe to say you didn’t think the term was one of endearment after that.

And it was at that same party where you’d insisted Donghyuck would be the shittest fuck on the soccer team – something you’re currently finding out as being not true as he fucks you senseless six ways to Sunday. In all honesty, even when Yuta had asked you the question in a silly little game of truth or dare, you knew Hyuck was the cop-out answer. Truthfully, your real answer would have been Jisung or Chenle. They’re both a little younger and act more awkward with you. But still, you’d let hell freeze over before letting Lee Donghyuck think he was a better fuck than somebody else. However, you’re pretty sure you’ve broken that promise to yourself from the way you’re breathlessly panting and gasping from the vigorous drilling of his cock. That or hell genuinely has frozen over.

But still, what did he expect? The two of you couldn’t go half a second without a petty argument. Sometimes you find yourself just doing it because you were bored and he was there. After all, it’s just the norm between the two of you.

That’s why you can’t quite understand why he’s taking a stupid comment said in a passing game of truth or dare to heart. You’ve said worse to him, you're sure of it.

Hyuck pulls out of your pussy and the emptiness that lingers between your legs has you groaning – even if it’s just for a second. He doesn’t give you long to harp on the loss of friction because he wastes no time dropping your leg from his hip, gripping your waist and slamming the front of your body against his locker.

You want to make another snarky comment about his roughness, but you secretly love it. Well, it’s not so secret actually — Hyuck is well aware that you like his manhandling because he feels your wetness becoming more slick on his cock as he thrusts into you from behind.

His pace in the new position is still tortuous, slow and teasing, and so fucking annoyingly good. But you don’t know how much longer you can take the tormenting leisurely pace. You want more - you need more. If he didn't have your arms pinned behind you and you flush against the lockers, you’d claw at his back to make him go faster.

You feel a warmth on the nape of your neck as he nuzzles against your ear, placing a kiss so gently, that you’re shocked at the sudden contrast in his demeanour.

“This the shittest fuck you’ve had, huh?”

No.

“Yes,” you reply and he growls deeply. There’s a rough snap of his hips and it catches you off guard so much you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a whimper.

“Fucking liar,” he scoffs.

The insult makes your face screw up in a glare, but still, all you can manage is a breathy, “Am not.”

No matter how good the length of his cock is making you feel, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right – that he’s not the worst fuck on the soccer team. Not that you had much experience with the others.

But even though you refuse to use your words to tell him you’re loving it, your body betrays you by being so fucking responsive to his touches. And no matter how hard you fight against him, Hyuck never lets you gain an inch. In fact, every time you try to free your arms from his, he lets out a frustrated groan, and the sound only makes your pussy throb harder.

His hand slips up your body until it finds your throat, where his fingers dig into either side of your neck. He stops his thrusts.

“Well if you’re not lying, are you saying I’m a shitty fuck princess?” He asks innocently as if he’s about to be gentle with you, but you know better. After all, this is Donghyuck. “If you want to pretend like you don’t want this; if that helps you sleep at night, then fine, but your slutty cunt is so fucking wet, I can almost feel you soaking my balls.”

He ducks down to place a kiss on your jaw, and you feel his lips smile into it as you shudder from his words. Instinctively, you swing your head away from him, only to be yanked back by the hand around your throat. He chuckles against your skin, hips starting to move again, thrusting shallowly into your stretched cunt.

“If I’m such a shitty fuck, I supposed you want me to stop, huh?” He asks in a low voice, lips grazing your cheek.

Noises you’ve never heard yourself make before tumble from your mouth as you moan and sob shamelessly. You try to bite your tongue, try not to fuel his ego, but his rhythm is too good at tearing down your guard, which is why you find yourself crying out, “Please don’t stop!”

He laughs, fucking you harder and faster, the stings of pain from his cock hitting you so deep morphing into a hot ache of pleasure that coils tighter and tighter in your core.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls.

His fingers, still on your throat press into your skin, not hard enough to cut off your air supply but just enough pressure to force out strangled moans. Your shoulders rub against the coarse material of his soccer kit, grounding you against him as he fucks you in punishing thrusts.

You don’t want to admit it, but your body can’t resist it.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” you mumble, eyes squeezed tight together.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me like a good little slut?” he murmurs into your temples

The low rumble of his voice has the tension in your core ratcheting higher, pushing you closer to your release. Your head feels like it’s floating as the tight spring in your stomach coils until it finally snaps and has your knees buckling beneath you.

Hyuck keeps his speed steady, fucking you through your climax and savouring the way your walls clench around him in rigid spasms. Your orgasm triggers his and he clenches his jaw.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he ruts into you harder, and all you can do is moan for him.

“Please,” you whimper.

He chuckles at your submission - he’s never seen you like this before - so needy and desperate. He didn’t think it was possible to love anything about you; but this right here, you fucked out and pleading for his cum, yeah, he fucking loves it.

He ruts into you a last few times with thrusts that are wild and more frenzied, his thighs slapping against your ass. He contemplates cumming inside of you, but he figures he’d save that for another day since the two of you had forgotten about a condom and hadn’t really discussed it.

And…did he just think about having sex with you again?

With a loud groan that rattles against the metal in the empty locker room, Hyuck pulls out of your cunt and jerks his cock until he’s cumming onto the small of your back. Unable to stop yourself, you moan softly and a stupid smile spreads across your face when you hear him sigh.

After that it's silent, only your rapid breaths echoing in the room. He’s pressed against you, face buried in your neck, holding you and your weak legs in place. You stay like that for a beat, but then you remember who it is that’s just fucked you.

Without any more hesitation, you shake his grip and push him away from you. "Christ! Stop breathing down my neck. Fucking gross."

If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s your arch nemesis you would have stayed tangled up in him a little while longer, letting yourself get soaked up in the fact that that was the best sex you’ve ever had.

As you turn around to face him, he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on his face.

“There’s a towel in my bag if you want to…”

You scoff, “How chivalrous of you.”

You pull the towel from the bag in his locker and start wiping at his cum on your back. Your body is turned away from him but you can still feel his eyes lingering on you as you wipe away.

You stop to look at him, “What are you still doing here? We have a game in like 10 minutes. Shouldn’t you be like…warming up or something?”

“I think I’m already warmed up,” he mumbles and you shake your head with a smile, going back to cleaning yourself off.

“Seriously, get on the pitch,” you demand when you see him still lingering.

There’s a hand in his hair, scratching his head and he looks a little flushed. You never see him like this, it’s weird. The Hyuck you know and loathe is cocky, smug, arrogant, all of those kinds of words; but the one in front of you looks so awkward, flushed. Is it weird you kinda like it?

“Are you waiting for me to tell you you aren’t a bad fuck or something? Seriously Hyuck, get lost,” you try and joke, pulling down your cheer uniform.

“No..I…” he stumbles.

You groan, “Oh no, don’t do this. Don’t make things weird.”

“I’m not—”

“Can’t you just be like a normal guy and…I don’t know, say it felt good to fuck me like you hate me or some shit?”

His eyes sweep over your face as if he were studying you. His face softens and he steps closer.

“I mean I could say that, because it felt fucking amazing actually,” he says and you swallow thickly. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”

You pause, freezing as he comes towards you. You don’t even register how close he is until you feel his breath on your lips and his chest against yours.

“What?”

“I don’t actually hate you that much,” he admits, and your eyes widen.

“Yeah right, funny joke,” you roll your eyes and laugh sarcastically but he’s not laughing with you. In fact he’s just looking at you, deadpan, and it’s starting to freak you out.

When you realise that he is in fact serious, you cross your hands across your chest.

“You’re not gonna start doing all that cheesy shit they do in the movies, where you profess your undying love for me, and tell me you never really hated me and it was all just a miscommunication, are you?”

“Fuck no!” He almost gags at the mention of it. “Just because I said I don’t hate you that much doesn’t mean I like you? Are you crazy?”

“Well I’m just making sure,” you poke his chest.

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “But I do wanna do this again…” he trails off so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard it if there was anybody else in the room with you.

“This?”

“Yes, this. Us. Fucking,” he explains. “I fucking hate you, but fuck, I think I love your pussy.”

[cultofdixon]

Secrets kept for another’s safety, until you lose it

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Some Saviors just can’t let go and go for what’s important to Daryl Dixon. But little did he know about more than losing his partner. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Injuries / Anxiety Attacks / Blood loss

Requested by: Anon

Just because the Saviors War is over, doesn’t mean it’s completely dealt with. People have their vendettas and everyone will forever be scarred by the actions of Negan, apart of the Saviors or not.

When Negan was taken to prison instead of hell, the group decided that it would be best to have shifts of their people to watch The Sanctuary until they’ve fixed everything. Or until they put someone in there for a more permanent position.

After a month in and it was Daryl and Y/N’s turn to watch the place. Both having their own imprisonment to the place because of Negan. So they weren’t all too happy to be back. But the night gave them time to themselves.

Which led them on the roof this night…

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Daryl asks, putting the joint back to his lips watching Y/N finish putting up the last of their clothes on the clothesline. “You haven’t talked in a bit”

“Am I really that talkative?” She laughs softly, tossing the extra pins in the empty laundry basket. “I’m just enjoying the night with my husband. What else more could I ask for?”

“Could go dark on yea and say for Negan to be dead”

“Well you’re not the only one wanting that” Y/N sat on the stool while Daryl laid on a mattress they had brought up there. Neither of them want to live inside the walls anymore. “Can we just think toward the future?”

“We can” Daryl pushed himself to sit up, offering the joint to her as she shook her head. He stared a bit confused before shrugging it off. “Again, sunshine…what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

Y/N fell silent once more before looking out toward the woods trying to find a good start to what she wants to talk about.

“You remember when you first held Judith?”

“Lil’ Ass kicker, yeah?”

“Do you remember what you told me afterward? When you handed her off to Hershel?”

The confused look on his face gave her answer.

“You said I don’t think I’d be cut out for this if I were Rick.”

“Why are yea bringing that up now? Are you—-“

“No!…No…” Y/N visibly slumped. “It’s just. The threat is gone. We have a home that is ours. Walls to protect us from the dead…we could. Do it. Have a child. Have that future…”

Give Daryl some credit when he has thought about this before. Having a child with his wife…all of their love put into a single human being. But all the anxieties that came with that thought flooded his mind.

“I don’t wanna lose you like Rick lost Lori” For something that happened years ago, it still haunted him. Especially with the scares they’ve had before a true moment of peace came.

“Daryl…that…that was going to happen to Lori regardless…she had a c-section with Carl, any baby after that was bound to come out the same way. This would be a first for me. We could prevent the possibility of needing a c-section”

“But there’s still a chance. I…” Daryl stopped himself to avoid her eyes and hang his head not ever wanting to think about that possibility. But then again…what was he going to do? “I just can’t” he whispers which led Y/N to bring herself to his level and coax his gaze back onto her. “I can’t lose you…I…I’ve lost enough and everything about how I’d be a terrible father aside I won’t be able to raise our child alone if I lost you…I will always need you”

As much as it broke Y/N’s heart to know his feelings and to have to push aside hers because the last thing she would want is to lose or hurt her husband…the tears fell from her eyes as she presses her forehead against his.

“Okay. Okay…You won’t lose me. Ever. I’m here…just me” Y/N brought her arms around his shoulders bringing her face into the crook of his neck as Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around her holding her close.

The things you do for love will always be something…that will always be changing

About four months later…

Y/N finally emerges from the basement living she and Daryl live in under the Grimes’s residence. She gave a smile to Michonne who said “good morning” in her arrival watching her friend join her and Judith at the kitchen island.

“Think you can handle breakfast?”

“Yes, I think I finally got over that ill spell” Y/N took a seat at one of the barstools smiling to Judith beside her before drawing her attention to the quick footsteps making their descend down the stairs.

“Hey! You’re up here, how yea feeling? Yknow Daryl—-“

“Has been having you ask every day since I came back from the Sanctuary not feeling well. I’m doing okay. Better than before”

“Great to hear that, I’ll tell Daryl in person when I make my rounds to the other communities” Rick smiles approaching Judith who was happy to see her dad. “First thing, take this little one to the teacher to watch her while we’re all out”

Michonne gave Y/N a confused look as she tiredly turned to her lifting her head from her hand.

“I’m gonna work in the pantry. So I don’t feel entirely useless”

“You’re allowed to take it easy” Michonne was stern with her words which brought the confusion out of Rick’s expression while he picked up Judith heading toward the door.

“I think I’ll be fine” Y/N shot a stern look at her friend as Michonne instantly waited for the front door to close, ultimately for Rick to leave. “The baby will be fine”

“Y/N, when are you going to tell Daryl so this doesn’t have been a secret between you and I? You’ve mentioned about a conversation you had with him that doesn’t quite add up to the fact that you didn’t——“

“He doesn’t want to have a baby.” Y/N frowns forming fists as she had the habit of digging her nails into her flesh to avoid the crying. “He doesn’t want to have a baby with him and I promised I wouldn’t. But I still got knocked up. Now he’s going to lose me or I’m going to lose him” the tears came anyway as the frustration was obvious in the discomfort in her face which led Michonne to maneuver around the island to bring herself beside her friend letting her rest her head on her shoulder as her arms caged her. “All I wanted was a family with the man that I love but the factors of being good enough or dying unexpectedly just floods that man’s mind and hell I can’t blame him for any of it. But now I’m plagued with it while I carry his child”

The two didn’t hear the click of the door finally closing. All that mattered was Michonne comforting her friend until it was time for the day to get started.

“I’ll be helping Gabriel rebuild his chapel with a few Saviors we have taken in for rehabilitation to show they can do something good. We are thinking of making it also the leading to the farm” Michonne stated as she walked Y/N to the pantry. “So I will be around if you need me. I’ll also keep an eye on the saviors. I know what some of them have been saying but we haven’t come across one angry with Rick or Daryl or literally any one of us”

“Are you really trying to say you’re watching out for my safety when I’m gonna be confined to a chair and a notepad for the most part”

“Yes, yes I am. Plus…the infirmary is right next door and I know Siddiq is doing his inventory and preparing shipment of medical supplies we’ve found on the runs we had recently.”

“Michonne”

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling” Y/N laughs opening the door to let herself in. “I’ll holler if I need anything” she says halfway inside when Michonne quickly reminded her about the no heavy lifting which got a scoff out of the woman.

About an hour or two has passed and Y/N groans out of boredom while sitting on the stool in the pantry. She stared out the window watching people walk passed or the few groups carrying wood and metal around for the walls and new buildings. Inventory was done, restock of what they have was done, and she was about to get started on the shipment for the Kingdom when she heard the door open.

“Michonne I really don’t need you watching—-“ Y/N stopped speaking when she watched the unfamiliar man step in quietly, assessing the environment. “Uhm. Can I help you with anything?”

“I was told by that scary priest that we hold the extra building supplies in here on occasion when the shed ain’t organized” He stepped around the pantry looking for himself before looking at Y/N as she couldn’t shake this familiar feeling. “You’ve got nails? Maybe a better hammer than this shit?” The hammer she didn’t notice before only confused her on where he pulled it out from. But asides from that, Y/N got off the chair and went to grab such for him.

“How’s the construction going?”

“It’s going. That Rick guy has us doing a lot just has his woman bossing us around” He scoffs looking at the jarred goods they have while Y/N knelt down to carefully go through a box for a smaller box of nails. “How can you even do what Rick asks y’all to do?”

“Have you even met Rick? He does the right thing, most of the time” Keeping Negan alive was the wrong one.

As Y/N rose to her feet with the box of nails she watched the man pull off the Polaroids that were stuck to the window. Just for a better look but it made her uneasy thinking he was going to get rid of them.

“Family?” He questions lifting up the ones with Glenn and Maggie, watching Y/N nod as he fixated on one with her and Daryl before putting them back. “Find’em?”

“Yeah, here” She handed off the box hearing him thank her before stepping out. But before she could even straighten out the pictures and take a seat, Y/N didn’t hear the door close entirely.

It didn’t take long for what to happen, happen.

The second she rounded the corner…Y/N flinched slightly being up close to the man without a name. She looked down to find a few nails shoved deep into her side. The shock made the pain not come right away and she was still experiencing it while he drove them to the point he couldn’t.

“You are just as dumb as you were back when you were his wife.” He glares into the deep pits of her soul as Y/N lifted her head from watching the blood spill from her side. Her mind racing to one thing. “Rick shoulda killed him. Your bitch dog of a man shoulda killed him. Maybe even the sword lady. Anybody. Then you all would’ve been seen as stronger instead of weak ass beings.”

“I-…I—-“ Y/N felt the tears spill and he grabbed her face to make her force eye contact.

“Let me take you away from everybody and I’ll watch them suffer” then the man quickly removed his hand when he heard voices outside. He pushed her aside but the blood loss led it to be a bit more dramatic as she fell to her knees.

As he made his escape through the back, Y/N slumped against the wall hesitant to touch her side. But they weren’t in prime condition, they could have some traces of rust and she can’t afford an infection if she wants any chance of that surviving.

A few were hard to pull out and one was embedded deep that Y/N contemplated letting it stay in but she was already this far.

Baby.

Baby.

Baby.

Baby.

…

Daryl… Y/N sobbed as she used her knife to cut into her to pull out the last nail that was embedded deep. She had to stop the bleeding so she could go get help and knew she had towels in the other room out of the foyer. But the blood loss was too much that when her weak body crawled about halfway there, it gave out.

“Daryl”

“I know this shithole sucks but yea said you’d be here earlier” Daryl clearly was in a mood while working on his bike, and with Rick only crossing his arms with an annoyed expression after his words. He knew he shouldn’t have expressed all of that. “Sorry. I’m frustrated.”

“Did something happen?”

“No…” Daryl frowns fiddling with a tool in hand. “Y/N hasn’t radio’d me today. Michonne was gonna give hers to my girl so I can check up on her but nothin’”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for that. Plus I’ve got uh…an update of my own regarding your wife” Now he had to be careful. He did hear everything in the kitchen that morning but Rick isn’t the best at de-escalating the situation.

But it felt like fate for him to be interrupted by his radio in that exact moment.

“Rick—-Are you with Daryl?”

“Gabriel? Yes, why?”

“Michonne—-Hilltop” his end was cutting out and the urgency only stressed the retired sheriff and huntsman. “Bleeding—-Stopped—-Other reasons—-Y/N”

“Gabriel. Who’s injured?!” Rick shouts annoyed as the silence grew for a moment.

“Y/N was found bleeding—-Attacked—-Go to Hilltop”

“Load up. Forget the bike” Rick stated even though the second Daryl heard it was confirmed to be Y/N, he went right into the driver’s seat of Rick’s truck. Rick quickly got in the passengers and didn’t wait another minute to tell Daryl.

The accident happened a few hours ago before Gabriel radio’d Rick. He only comm’d him as per request from Michonne to update him and to get Daryl on their current actions of getting Y/N to the Hilltop. For their ultrasound machine. The one from the Sanctuary got moved to the Kingdom to be repaired by a retired technician.

Y/N sat up in bed in the medical trailer not liking the feeling of the IV in her arm and the antibiotics Siddiq had her on. Made the sick feeling return and the nausea meds never worked on her.

“Daryl is on his way” Michonne frowns sitting in the chair beside her as Maggie sat at the edge of the bed with her hand rested on her calf. Both being protective of her in her current state.

“I didn’t get a name of the guy…”

“Hun we don’t have to do that now” Maggie assured her. “Aaron and Rosita are looking for the guy back home with the description you gave before they moved you here. We don’t have to talk about it at all and focus on you staying alive and healthy”

The tears returned as Y/N pulled her hand away so she could hide her face in them. As she sobbed she didn’t hear the sound outside of 1. The car stopping in front of the trailer. 2. Daryl shouting at a few people. And 3. The sound of a Hilltop resident screaming after Daryl shoved them out of his way to get inside the trailer. The second the door opened and his worry expelled from him, Michonne and Maggie got up from their spots moving so he could get close to his wife.

Michonne motioned for Maggie to leave with her as she instantly went to Rick to talk about the guy that attacked Y/N.

Daryl instantly wrapped his arms around her feeling her grab fists full of his vest, making him want to squeeze her but he instantly pulled away when she winced. He started to check her person himself even if Siddiq does a great job with his assessment after dealing with the main problem. He even checked her bandages watching the discomfort grow on her face along with a few tears still falling.

“Are you okay? What did that bastard do to yea? Is the peanut okay?”

“What?”

“Is the baby okay?” Daryl’s voice cracked when asking that question as it only made Y/N cry even more giving him mixed signals.

Someone told him she thought and as much as that brought relief, it brought a lot of regret and pain that she didn’t tell him herself.

As she pulls from his touch, Daryl watches her reach for the table beside the bed grabbing a piece of paper before returning and giving it to him. He carefully took it into his hands looking at the picture of the peanut that was very much still there. He exhales relieved, feeling his own tears spill and the softness of her hands gently wipe them away.

“I’m sorry—-“

“No.” Daryl cut her off setting the photo in her lap so he could take her hands into his. “I…I shouldn’t have said what I said months ago…I didn’t want to push you away ever if this were to happen. Cuz let’s be honest with ourselves, we fuck like bunnies. It was bound to happen” he broke out in a smile listening to Y/N laugh to his words. He planted a kiss on her cheek as she kept that smile of hers. “We…we can die to anythin’ and that shouldn’t stop us from living.”

“Daryl…”

“Let’s go home, sunshine. Let me protect the both of yea”

Daryl helped Y/N get in the car before approaching the small group that was fixated on the woman.

“There’s a lead”

“You know I’m not gonna hesitate to kill that guy” Daryl stated and instead of receiving the usual Rick talk about no need to go far he was genuinely confused. “What”

“I’m going to help you get the son of a bitch. He does want to take us out because of Negan”

“You’re willing to be bait?”

“If Rick gets hurt, your ass is next” Michonne threats with a smile before joining Y/N in the car giving them a bit more time to discuss then joining their partners.

The day progresses into the night and Daryl found the right moment to slip away from his spot beside his wife so he could leave the house to take care of business.

As the man climbs over the wall after hiding out until night, he stumbled on his landing and when he straightened up he was face to face with Rick.

“Seriously. Just let me go”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen”

“Like you of all people will pull the trigger” He scoffs, making the mistake of reaching for his weapon because that led to a bolt piercing him in the side of the skull.

Rick watches the body fall limp to the floor before turning to Daryl emerging from the shadows.

“There’s gonna be more like him” Rick stated. “We won’t kill them all”

“Anybody, and I fucking mean anybody…who comes near my pregnant wife the way that guy did? Will meet the same fate”

And on that note, he returned back to his spot beside Y/N who instantly rolled over to face him and bring herself close.

[ilys00ga]

BABY, I CARE FOR YOU.

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ genre: sickfic, best friends to potential lovers (who knows?), fluffy fluff, yoongi being the best bff you could ever ask for, I miss him so much.

➞ synopsis: where the reader is sick and her bff is always there for the rescue.

➞ warnings: none.

➞ A/N: another request by @parkjennykim, who used 'she/her' pronouns in the req so I used those accordingly. This was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :)

PS. readers, remember my reqs are still open for now. you can go ahead and send some (read pinned post if u haven't yet, tho).

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

the bag you've been carrying all day slipped off of your shoulder as soon as you pushed the door to your apartment open and stepped in. not bothering to pick it up, you remove your shoes and leave them somewhere near the entrance and take a deep breath through the nose.

your body was having a party that day. muscles and head aching like crazy, throat bleeding as it burned with a ticklish feeling that lingered for hours and bringing out coughing fits from your chest every few minutes, legs barely holding you up and an annoyingly runny nose, you're sure the skin around it is red and raw from how you've been rubbing at it with tissues all day. not to forget the fact that you were freezing to death even though the heaters were doing their work in the flat more than enough.

“Mom is finally home!” A loud squeal came rushing from down the hall. You raised your head with some difficulty to see your best friend approaching you with your cat, Leo, in his arms and a wide smile adorning his face. He stopped in his tracks and frowned, however, as soon as he noticed your scowling expression and bloodshot eyes.

“Woah, you look so not happy right now.” he commented.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” Though your expression softened as you spoke, your voice still held a wince the more uncomfortable the light bulb became to your squinted eyes.

“You didn’t answer my calls or even texts, so I just decided to come over myself.” he explained, then eyed you up with knitted brows and a barely noticeable pout on his cherry red lips, “are you okay?”

“My head and body are killing me. I’m going to sleep. You can stay as much as you like, just feed Leo before you leave, plea-." A couple of sneezes cut your sentence off. The action stabbed daggers into your already throbbing brain; so painful that your eyes teared up and you squeezed your hands around your skull to try and control the waves of shock that hit you all of a sudden.

“Wait,” Yoongi put Leo on the floor and walked towards you. the back of his hand felt like a soft, warm blanket wrapped up around your body on a cold, snowy night as it rested on your forehead, so you closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re so hot.” he grimaced at the heat that bit his skin, and when he noticed how you smirked mischievously with your eyes still closed shut, he whined, “don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Your tongue felt numb as you blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.

“Come, you need to take a warm bath and eat something.” his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling towards the bathroom.

"Your hands are always warm. I like that a lot." you whispered, absent-mindedly eying the way he was soothingly caressing the skin under his thumb.

“Are you going to bathe me?” his cheeks warmed up at the question you blurted so suddenly, but the way you were slurring your words implied that none of the things you were rambling about were intentional. the fever really took its toll on your brain.

“Go do your thing, and I'm going to make you something warm to eat.” he bit his lower lip and pointed towards the bathroom, leaving to start doing his task in the kitchen.

"The walls are spinning around me!" You whimpered as soon as you entered your room, wet hair wrapped up in a towel, a fluffy, warm hoodie swallowing your torso and a pair of sweatpants. Yoongi, who was sitting on your bed, immediately fixed his gaze on you with a small smile. you could spot your favorite pair of socks laying beside him on the bed sheets, and your heart skipped a beat or two at how thoughtful that small gesture alone was.

"I'm sorry. let me just blow dry your hair, and then you can eat." he apologized, pointing at the hair dryer he'd been holding in his hand and patting the empty spot next to him.

"You're spoiling me today." You complained, but still obediently sat besides your sweet friend.

"You're sick, I'm taking care of you." he replied matter-of-factly.

you murmured a small 'thank you' before he gently started taking the wet towel off your head, then started carefully drying your hair.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you found Yoongi setting plates, along with utensils on the small table located by the wall. his eyes landed on you as soon as your painful-sounding coughs announced your arrival.

“Feeling any better?” his brows rose worriedly, and his gaze followed your hunched up body as it walked and took a seat.

“kind of. thanks for the food.” You offered a genuine smile despite all the tiredness washing over your limbs. he nodded knowingly.

“Here, take these when you finish eating.” He put a tablet right next to your bowl and sat across from you, digging into his own plate as well.

After a while, you decided to break the comfortable silence when your eyes fell upon the clock hanging just above the door frame, “You have work tomorrow, and it’s getting late. you should probably go.”

“I know you’re a jackass and you’d sleep on an empty stomach if you wanted to, even when you’re sick.” he muttered so casually it almost made you giggle if it weren't for the guilt of forcing him to stay taking over your mind.

“That’s not right!” You started to argue but hissed when your head reminded you that it still got a tornado going on inside of it as it throbbed even harder.

“Stop talking and eat!” he scolded, and you wordlessly complied.

"I'm not leaving until you're tucked into bed and fast asleep," he added in a stern tone after a small pause, making you grin weakly and stuff your face with another spoonful of soup.

"Are you feeling any better?" Once again, yoongi asked after pulling the duvet over your chin. he chose to sit right by your side, on the floor and with his back facing you.

you replied with a muffled hum, barely audible as you were busy gratefully enjoying the softness of your comforter with closed eyes. it felt as though it had some kind of magic that absorbed all the aching tension in your body, allowing you to finally heave a sigh in relief after such a long, tiring day.

"Where's Leo?" you asked.

"probably napping somewhere after his meal."

"You fed him?"

"Of course I did. I'm not like you, forgetting my cat as soon as I get sick." he smirked teasingly.

"I didn't! I knew you were gonna stay, and I trusted you, like I always do." Your voice was only getting weaker and weaker, sleepy as you fought a battle against sleep just to answer your cheeky best friend.

Yoongi only smiled, glancing at you with tinted cheeks. he allowed his gaze to linger just a tad bit more on your closed eyes, nose poking out above the fuzzy blanket and shoulders ever so faintly shivering as the fever still clung onto you. he found the sight so endearing, he chuckled quietly and sighed, "Good to know you do."

"'m so 'ired." You slurred.

"Sleep, darling. I'm right here." was the last thing you heard him say ever so gently before surrendering your powers and drifting into a deep slumber.

Yoongi kept observing as you slept for a while before standing up. He bent down to press one soft kiss on your cheek and another one on your forehead, then walked out of the room with extra efforts not to make any noise and disturb your peaceful night when it had just started.

"Mom is sleeping. Let's hang out in the living room, hmm?" He picked up the fluffy cat that came running towards him as soon as he saw the door opening and kissed his head. heading towards the living room with a small smile on his face.

[xoxokaulitz]

BRO OMG I LOVE YOUR MAKEUP SEX WITH TOKIO HOTEL BUT CAN YOU PRETTY PLEASE WRITE THEM (SEPARATE) WITH A READER WHO IS RLLY FUCKING STUBBORN

TOKIO HOTEL W A STUBBORN S/O

no pacific pronouns can be seen as any gender

THANK FOR THIS REQUEST POOKIEEE IDK IF YOU WANTED SMUT OR FLUFF SO I DID SMUT. IF U WANT FLUFF PLS REQUEST AGAIN WHEN REQUESTS ARE OPEN😊

2008 and up

BILL

I heard bill loves people are kinda challenging in the relationship, so he would definitely chuckle at your stubbornness.

He probably wouldn’t admit it but he definitely got turned on at least once by your stubbornness 😭.

Now if he had a bad day and you had something to complain about to him, trust you will be dealt with😭.

“Bill you said you would be home earlier than this. It’s almost fucking 3 are you out of your mind?!”

“Schatz I had a bad day today so I went to drink. I’m still in a bad mood please don’t argue with me right now.”

Of course you are stubborn you would keep pushing his buttons while following him upstairs, trying to prove your point.

“Bill are you serious right now?! You always fucking—“ Your words would be stopped by him pining you to the bed.

“I already fucking told you I had a bad day but no, you wanted to be a fucking brat and push my buttons like you always do.”

This man would pound tf out of you, he would bend you over and push your head into the pillow. You couldn’t even talk any when you would try he would tease you.

“What was that? Hm? I can’t hear you, speak up if you want something.”

Begging him to slow down? Nuh uh aint finna happen.

“Huh? You want me to slow down? Mm, you remember how you were acting like a little brat earlier? Mm, I think I shouldn’t even be fucking you right now, I should leave you to beg me to fuck you.”

TOM

Tom is kinda stubborn himself, he would literally be stubborn back 😭.

He would literally ignore you yelling at him and walk upstairs, pretending to not care and you would follow him while yelling.

“Tom don’t you fucking walk away from me, you do this every time we have a argument! You act like you can’t fucking listen for once, you always walk anyway!”

He’d literally snap at you💔.

“I walk away because your stubborn ass wanna do too much, I get tired and stressed too Y/N! Your not the only one.”

“Me stubborn? I’m being fucking stubborn for bringing up problems YOU caused? Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”

You guys would definitely be huge brats to each other. Stubborn and stubborn arguing isn’t the best, since you both get pretty loud when arguing.

“I’m done arguing with you meine liebe. Now please, leave me alone while I cool down.” He would try to reason out but you being you, you couldn’t let him walk away so easily.

You push at him until he pinned you on the bed, grabbing your chin with two fingers. You would be taken aback but secretly enjoy the lust in his eyes.

“Your such a brat you know? Always yapping about some shit. You should really learn to know your place.”

He would FUCK the stubbornness out of you, face down ass up. He would be a bit rough, pounding into you nonstop. You would beg him to slow down, but would he listen? Nope.

“T-Tom!! Slow down..!” You managed to let out but he ignored you and only increased his pace. You wiggled around making Tom grab your waist.

“No, this is what you get for being such a fucking stubborn person!” He slapped your ass while thrusting into you ruthlessly.

He would pretend to not hear you and purposely push deeper to make it seem like he didn’t hear you whining and begging for him to slow down.

GEORG

Now..

Georg will put you in your place‼️.

He will definitely be a little stubborn back but definitely would also let you have your way. And if you’d be super stubborn about something he will glare at you and you’d shut up.

Georg can handle your stubbornness, but if he’s in a bad mood expect to not get what you want‼️.

Let’s say one day georg came from a afterparty a little drunk, and Georg told you earlier he would come straight home and not go to the afterparty, so your stubbornness kicked in.

“Georg, I thought you said we weren’t gonna go to the afterparty?”

He would look at you a little zoned out but he would answer you. “I’m sorry love, the band wouldn’t listen to me when I said I was gonna go.” You would definitely get a bit heated, but you tried not to just lash out on him because he was tipsy.

“Then why didn’t you tell someone and leave when you got there? Georg it’s literally 4 in the morning. I was fucking worried! And you are out getting drunk like I’m not here??”

“Schatz, I got a little carried away okay? Right now it’s not the time to argue. It’s 4 and everyone in the neighborhood is probably asleep. Let’s talk in the morning.” Georg tried to reason but you weren’t having it.

You kept pushing his buttons but maintaining your voice so you would yell too loud for everyone to hear, while georg got some water to sober up.

Georg got tired of it and put his cup down angrily, his hands showing veins for how hard he was gripping the cup and pinned you onto the couch.

“You know, I always let to have your way, but you like to get carried away. Such a brat, I should punish you for how you’ve been acting towards me.”

He would go SO slow, he would make you beg for him to speed up. He would go slower if you tried to touch yourself or move your hips. He would grip your waist and tell you not to move.

“Such a brat, trying to please yourself? I shouldn’t even be fucking you, I should make you beg for me to pound the fuck out of you.”

He would tease you, and you’d finally give in🤭..he would definitely tease you about giving into him.

“Oh? What’s this? What happened to my bratty Y/N? I wouldn’t expect you to listen to me so easily. Shows how much of a slut you are.”

GUSTAV

Gustav is so sweet omg😭 he’ll give into your stubbornness, and you’d sometimes feel bad because he would always do whatever you say.

I have a feeling like he’s literally angry and rude to people when he’s tired especially after a long day with rehearsals so he would always go shower and sleep.

But one day you just didn’t want to put up with it and you lashed out on him. He didn’t expect it at all.

“Gustav? We need to talk.” You called out to him, sounding it a bit serious in which made him kinda nervous.

“Yes schatz?”

“I feel like we are drifting apart somehow. Like, it’s like you come home and shower, eat, and sleep. We barely talk.”

“I’m sorry love. I’m really tired, can we talk about this later?”

You were so angry. Like he js straight up ignored you trying to communicate with him after weeks.

“Gustav what the fuck? Are you seriously just gonna ignore me after fucking trying to COMMUNICATE with you??”

You’d yell at him while he walked to the room, not caring if the neighbors heard. He’d ignore you but you said something that just pissed him the fuck off.

“The fuck did you just say?” He’s turn around and you’d stop in your tracks. “You fucking heard me. Loud and clear.”

He’d grab you and throw you on the bed but not too hard.

To me Gustav is the type of guy to take out his anger on you in bed😉.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see if you can say that with my fucking cock inside of you, pounding you.”

Gustav is a soft dom, but he can be rough when he wants to🤭. He’d grab your hair while you take him from behind, whispering into your ear.

“You wanted this so bad huh? Look at your little hole taking my cock. It’s begging for more.”

He’d thrust into you faster every time you ask him to slow down, he’d slap your ass while you shake and cum on his cock.

Gustav would definitely go slow, making you beg and whine for more even when he was deep inside.

You’d cry out for him but he would ignore the fuck out of you.

“Gustav please! Go faster!”

“Hmm..nah…I wanna tease you more, see how long you’ll last hm? You think you can last for me? Hm?”

“Fuck, I know I said I was tired but you turned on something inside of me that I can’t turn off, liebe.”

pic credit tokiosaturn0 dm to remove if owner only!

taglist: @bored0writer @saumspam

pls lmk if u wanna be on my tag list 🤗 AND SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO DO!! 💔 requests closed rn because I’m finishing up some!

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

request: “and i was just wondering if you could write something for James Potter where it's just him fucking the reader senseless and him being smug about how good he can make her feel.”

some softness snuck into the smugness but i hope you like it! a bit of an awkward length but i didn’t want the blurb to be too short so you could really get a request’s worth 😜

pairing: James Potter x reader

summary: pure smut

warnings / tags: NSFW (minors do not interact!), sex, p in v, mention of afab parts but no pronouns or much gendering, established relationship, cocky lovable James

word count: 900ish

You couldn’t hold back a prolonged scream as your fourth orgasm of the evening sent shocks of pleasure pulsing through your whole body. Your eyes were scrunched shut, the intensity such that there was a soft ringing in your ears. As a few seconds passed, the chuckling behind you penetrated the ringing, becoming clearer and clearer.

“How many is that, sweet thing? Three or four? I lost track,” James joked as he pounded into you, gripping your hips bruisingly, you on all fours.

“Jamieee,” you whimpered in reply.

“Is that the only word you remember, love? My name? Because if it’s not, I still have work to do.”

“Big talk,” you sighed out. You were trying to sound cheeky; you wanted more and weren’t afraid of goading him into giving it to you. You were so fucked out already though, that your voice was a mere hoarse whisper, more desperate that challenging.

Even still, James stopped, his cock buried deep inside you, but his hips now still.

“What’s that? Sorry, y/n, can’t quite hear you with your face buried in the sheets and your voice all raspy from how good I’m fucking you. What’d’you say? Big cock? Why, thanks, sweets. Always glad to please.” He thrust again to punctuate his sentence, hard.

You could hear his characteristic wink in his smug voice.

“Big talk,” you repeated, stressing your words this time.

“Oh?? S’that so?” He pulled out abruptly — you groaned and clenched on nothing — and his hands on your hips spun you around so that you landed on your back, him hovering above you.

His eyebrows were raised at you in challenge, your attempt at a smirk probably pathetic.

“Four orgasms in, and you’re giving me cheek?”

“I thought you’d lost count?” you panted.

His lips turned up into a slow smile, his eyebrows still raised, his breath a steady panting. He was cocky as fuck, but he loved when you toyed with him anyway.

“There’s too much sense left you in you, sweets.” You shivered in anticipation at his words and the low gravelly tone they came in.

“Better keep going then, don’t you think?”

Without another word, his eyes lidded in lust, his expression set in dark determination, he harshly grabbed your hips, pulling them to his, thrust in roughly all at once, then pushed your legs up, effectively folding you in half and pinning both your ankles to one of his shoulders. He leaned his weight forward, careful to not be too much but enough so that his body kept you in place, your legs not having to strain despite the slightly contorted position. The angle allowed him the deepest access to you yet, and you could feel him in what felt like your stomach.

“Fuuuuck,” you moaned out.

“Yeah? y’like that?” There was no real question in his voice, all smugness where there should have been inquisitiveness.

Leaving you no time to adjust to the deeper penetration, he picked up his pace rushedly, the sound and feel of his hips smacking the backs of your thighs coming quicker and quicker until all you could do was hold on, one hand in the sheets, the other clutching his shoulder, for dear life.

“Fuck, James, fuck fuck,” was all you could say.

“Much better,” he quipped, but he leaned lower, giving you a sloppy kiss before saying, “Fuck, y/n, you always feel so fucking good.”

“Mmmm,” you groaned, wanting to respond but unable at the pace he was pounding into you.

He brought one of your legs down, pinning it to his hip, the other still up to maintain the deep angle. With them spread a bit like this, though, he now had access to your clit, and the pressure he applied expertly pulled a pleasured whine from you.

“Still think it’s just talk?” he panted, thrusting hard and fast.

You shook your head vehemently, wrapping your leg around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. You pulled him close, losing yourself in his motions, his heat, his skin against yours.

“So good,” you whimpered.

“How good? How good do I make you feel?” His rubbing on your clit got harsher, and you strained to answer, your body on the brink of climax.

“Fuck, James, fuck, so good, so so good, fuck, so amazing,” and with his increased intensity at those words, you were cumming around his cock.

He groaned animalistically at the clench, and seconds later he came inside you, thrusting till he could hardly hold himself up from his efforts.

He rolled next to you, pulling you onto his chest in the same motion. You lay your leg on him, and he gripped your thigh, smacking where it met your arse with a chuckle, then simply resting his hand there, his thumb softly stroking your sweaty skin.

His other arm around you, his hand came to caress up and down your arm, from your shoulder to your elbow and back again as your arm lay against his chest, its soothing rise and fall lulling you despite the energy of mere moments earlier. Your whole body felt limp and sensitive.

He looked down at you and grinned. “Good?” he smirked.

“Insane,” you replied, nuzzling him.

“I’m glad,” he chuckled, smirking. “Next time I’m not stopping before you have six,” he said matter-of-factly.

[xiaosonlybeloved]

Our Love is Six Feet Under- Nakahara Chuuya

featuring: Nakahara Chuuya (bsd), gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) warnings:- angst throughout, major character death, major light novel (stormbringer) spoilers!! a/n:- my, my, this idea has actually been rotting in my brain for over a month and its my longest fic till date. i loved writing it i hope u guys like it too <33 heavily inspired by 'six feet under' by billie eilish

wc: 3k || masterlists

You feel like you’ve been through worse than hell and back when you drag your eyes open. It doesn’t take you long to assess your situation and remember what had happened to you in the first place to get you attached to a hospital bed with various machines around you.

You promptly wish you’d rather have died instead, or never woken up. Not having had to deal with the pain that stabbed your heart like a thousand serrated, unforgiving knives would be a million times better than being alive. It would have been so much better than being the only survivor. 

Technically, you should feel no personal guilt over the Flags’ deaths. Its not like you had been hired to protect them, and what you had been paid to specifically do is the only thing that matters when you’re an assassin. Especially when the Port Mafia is the one who outsourced you. The blame of their deaths could, in no way, be pinned upon you.

Having feelings is what gets someone killed in the world you live in, a dark world in the deepest shadows of the city. Having an ability is no reason to be confident of yourself, not when the country is littered with ability users everywhere. And yet having an ability as unique as yours is how you managed to save yourself from the certain death brought upon you all by the King of Assassins.

It was supposed to be another normal day, right? You were off-duty, so you were hanging out with the Flags at the usual place, who you had become ‘acquainted’ with over the past few months of working together, Mori’s orders. If you could dare to curse yourself and them by calling you guys friends, you would. One of them, possibly the one you were closest with, had left for some mission with a foreign investigator, long story. So you were chilling out with the others, playing billiards and all that stuff. 

If someone had told you that would be your last memory together, you would have atleast clicked a picture for keepsakes. Or you’d have cherished the moment more, rather than treating it so casually. After all, you never know the value of what you’ve lost until you’ve lost it. 

In the present, you shut out your emotions- they’re too much of a storm for you to be able to deal with. The grief at their deaths, the horror at the memory of the sight, the overwhelming grief- you needed a break. You slipped back into unconsciousness, a weight lying heavy on your chest that would surely never leave you until you die.

********

The funeral seems much too loud and way too quiet at the same time, or perhaps thats just your thoughts. You’re silent in the shadows, yet again, watching the processions and the choir wordlessly. You don’t speak anything. You don’t think you have the right to. 

You haven’t dared to talk to Chuuya, or even approach him. He was the only member of the Flags who was not present when Verlaine struck, and thus the only one alive. He was incredibly close to them, you know, because you yourself were close to them, to him. Barely anyone had spoken a word to him, not even the boss. His aura was such that if you even dared to approach him, you’d probably either have your lungs squashed by gravity, or his own carefully crafted facade would break down. 

If, as someone who wasn’t even part of the Port Mafia or the Flags, you had been affected so badly, how was Chuuya coping? Was he? Yet, out of habit, you can’t help but keep an eye out for him. Silently, selfishly even, perhaps you’re hoping he can find it in himself to forgive you.

The foreign investigator has shown up again, looking much too cheerful for someone entering a funeral, and goes straight to Chuuya. You can feel that he’s pissed off, but a few words from Mori, and Chuuya stands up in a forced manner, going to leave with the detective. 

You manage to meet his gaze finally, but you don’t think you’d ever be prepared for it. His eyes bored straight into yours, eyes that had once looked at you with mirth and laughter, and dare you say it, love, eyes that were always an open gateway to his emotions. They held nothing but silent accusations, hidden anger, all pointing their sharp ends towards you. Not a single friendly feeling. 

Not a word is exchanged as he walks right past you, but there’s no need to. You’ve gotten the silent message he’s sending you crystal clear- he will never forgive you for this.

You think you deserve it fully, you understand. Even now. How twisted, really, but you got it. When he lost the Flags, he lost a part of himself too, but he still remembered you. And remembering you was a constant reminder of them, of your failure to save them, of the pain that came with. 

Though it hurt you, you knew that distancing yourself from him was the best thing to do. If you pursued him again, there was no telling what he might end up doing, but it certainly wouldn’t end well. Chuuya likely knew this too, and he clearly didn’t want you to come back. So you wouldn’t. This funeral would be the last time you associated with the Port Mafia, and thus Chuuya, even if it hurt you to do so. But again, considering feelings is what gets you killed in this world, and you’d rather not die so soon, although you actually don’t mind. 

And well, what did it matter if somewhere, sometime, Chuuya secretly wished you’d ask him to return?

********

Visiting their graves has become a monthly thing to you, due to your inability to let the past stay in the past. Perhaps its your own, guilty way of attempting to make amends, perhaps its your way of keeping their memory engraved in your mind, perhaps its to ensure that they aren’t forgotten, even if you know well they will never be. Deep inside, its a way for you to mourn the dead, as well as the loss of the living. 

You bring flowers every time, stay a while, occasionally leave something for them. Sometimes, you talk to them, sometimes you apologise over and over again, sometimes you stay silent, letting your thoughts still for a while. If nothing else, you just stared at the small rose plants that were growing there, one behind each of the five graves. It always amazed you, that such a delicate flower could grow in such a barren place. It sure seemed like they’d be blooming soon, and whenever you visited, you always made sure to check on them.

Time passes, but the wounds do not heal from inside, they just scab over, concealing the pain at first glance. You’ve gotten better at hiding it, yes, but that does not make it any better. You’ve become stronger, risen in rank as an assassin, honed your skills further. You’ve become reputed for carrying out your tasks in a swiftly lethal, unclouded way that left no traces. Almost a year has already gone by since the incident, and you still havent forgiven yourself. Nor has Chuuya.

That’s why, on their death anniversary, when you feel his cold gaze on you for the first time in a whole year when you were at their graves, you don’t hesitate to get up and start to leave. It’s best for him to not see you again. You’ve cut off all contact with the Port Mafia, except for when you occasionally got hired by them, and even then you finished it quickly, wasting no time. Interacting with no one. 

So that’s why it surprises you, when he holds up a hand, walking past you to lay the flowers on their graves. “You can stay.” He speaks emotionlessly, not looking at you. He sounds older, more mature, which was to be expected, you supposed. You remain standing where you are for a few moments, not facing him as he walks over and sits behind one of the graves. “As long as you aren’t doing anything wrong, of course.” He adds. At that, you sit in front of the grave he’s leaning against, replying quietly with a “No, I was merely paying my respects.”

It was anyways evening when you came, soon, the moon starts its ascent through the sky, as silence settles between the two of you. Not a word is exchanged between the two of you as you sit on opposite sides of the same grave, in each other’s company. The only people who could truly understand each other’s pain and suffering.

You settle for silently staring at the roses. Small buds have formed, but they don’t look well- its as if the whole plant is starting to wilt, little by little. They haven’t flowered even once yet,and you wondered if those roses would bloom before the plant died. Could they? After all, the weather was changing- it was raining more often these days. Maybe they couldn’t take it. Even now, a light drizzle had started as you sat, but it took you some time to realise, because you didn’t feel the rain at all, only noticing the faint red hue around. You didn’t mention it, nor did Chuuya.

Perhaps, whatever once could have been between you and the guy opposite you was symbolised by those roses- it could have bloomed, if given the chance, but life abandoned it,  left it to wilt in the aftermath of the storm. Any possible chances for you two were like the beloved ones who had left you now- six feet under the ground, dead, marked by a grave. This was merely the hand that fate dealt you, you had no choice but to accept it

********

“I can’t see the moon tonight.”. You murmur, almost to yourself, as you remain seated against the graves. It had been years, and even till now, neither of you had stopped coming to the grave to pay your respects, you arriving first every time and waiting for him. Your own visits weren’t monthly anymore due to life, more sporadic, but you still did visit from time to time, and you know Chuuya did too. And every year, on the fateful day that the incident happened, both of you never failed to show up, at the same time. Sometimes you exchanged a few words of greeting, a line or two about life. Other times you sat in silence till the moon’s glow started to dim, leaving as noiselessly as you came. Over time, this became your and Chuuya’s last remaining shared tradition out of all those that used to exist, your last link to each other. Seems like none of you was truly able to stay away from the other after all, huh?

“Say, Chuuya, next year, can you check for me whether the moon is visible or not? I feel like there really is something different about it on this day.” You ask him. He curtly replies, “Yeah no, you can do it yourself when you come back here. There’s no big deal about it anyways.” There’s no real bite in his words though, but it still saddens you. You wave it aside though, as you stare at the rose plants, like you always do. 

Over the years, those roses have wilted, died, and new plants have grown in their place. Not a single one of them ever bloomed though. You want to ask Chuuya to check on those plants next year too, but you don’t.

Tired from your day at work- it was more hectic and dangerous than usual- you lean against Chuuya’s shoulder. He remains motionless- he doesn’t push you away, but he certainly doesn’t pull you closer either. This is another thing you developed over the years- if either of you felt like you needed a shoulder on that day, the other would offer it. And you wanted to do it one last time.

Eventually, you two get up and brush yourselves off, preparing to part ways. You can’t help but let your gaze linger on Chuuya’s for a second more than usual as you open up your umbrella- it always does rain on this day, but today it seemed a bit gentler yet stronger- as if the skies were quietly lamenting over what was to come. 

Right before he left, he quietly spoke, the whisper floating between you. “Don’t think everything’s alright between us, because it isn’t.” He always does say something like this before he leaves every time, and again, there’s no real bite or meaning behind those words, just a formality he wishes to continue. 

You let a sad smile rest on your face as you gazed at him, before responding, “Don’t worry, I know.”

“Take care, Chuuya.”

As you started walking off alone, feeling Chuuya’s eyes still on you, ensuring your safety like the gentleman he was, you wondered if you had truly tied all the remaining loose ends of your thread of life, or did you still have regrets? It was very likely- no one could say they died without any regrets at all. And besides, no one’s end was written in stone, unless they carved it themselves. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was ever all too much for you.

The next morning, you call your boss to let him know that you’re ready to take on the mission. It was an important one, involving both a long period of infiltration for gathering valuable intel, and then the assassination of the target at the end. It was a high-risk mission too, but you were used to those, weren’t you?

Why would this mission be any different?

*********

Another year rolled past. This year, Chuuya hadn’t been able to visit the graves at all after the first two-three months because he had been sent overseas for a long-term mission. During the months he’d been in Yokohama, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of you- of course he hadn’t, he made sure to avoid the days you came, preferring to merely see the traces of yourself you left and leaving his own. After that he only got the chance to return there on their next death anniversary, and even for that he had to fight tooth and nail. He was a man of actions, and he would never be the one to break the tradition.

But he’d never imagined that you would break it either. You too were a person who valued actions, or had you changed over the years? 

His sharp eyes scanned the graves cautiously, but there was not a single trace of you. The only life around were the rose plants, not a soul in sight.

Rage, resentment and hints of sorrow bubbled up in him, taking him by storm as he strode over and angrily sat down by one of the graves. He was silent the entire night, letting his rush of emotions subside, staring at the gates as if he was expecting you to suddenly pop out. He stared at the moon, and at the roses. Did you not notice that they were about to bloom when you last visited? Because they were in full bloom that night, for the first time in years, delicate, fragrant petals shining in the moonlight. The moon, too, looked beautiful that night, a full moon surrounded by clouds. It was raining, heavier than usual, but the moon was never hidden. A memory entered his mind- last year, you had asked him to check whether the moon was visible this year.

“Well, it’s visible, and it sure is beautiful, but you didn’t even show up. Why?” He bitterly spoke out loud.

In the soft blowing wind that accompanied the rain, a stray lone rose petal lying on the ground gently floated in air, appearing as ethereal as smoke. He rose up to leave- you clearly weren’t showing up- eyes following the petal as it blew about, landing on a grave not of the Flags, but right beside, almost as if the deceased had specifically asked it to be there. It seemed relatively new too, for he hadn’t seen it the last time he’d been here. He walked over to it, to read what was written on the gravestone.

A moment passed, then another. And another. And Chuuya doesn’t know how long he spent there, kneeling in front of it. He was slowly getting drenched, because his ability had deactivated itself at some point of the night, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the neatly written words staring back at him, taunting him.

At some point, he understood why he was alone that night. Why you weren’t there to give him company, solace that night. It was because you couldn’t, and so you’d left whatever remained of yourself there, beside him, beside them, eternally. He just hadn’t known.

He could barely breathe, he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to, because his chest felt so heavy then. Eventually, he noticed where the petal had landed- it was a small letter, slightly wet and yellowed, kept in such a way that the rain wouldn’t destroy it. Someone must have kept it there on your request, and so he took it  out, eyes taking in the faintly smudged but still intelligible words.

‘I’m sorry, Chuuya, for everything. I hope you can forgive me someday, even if I myself never could. Thank you for staying with me, for existing.

-Love, [Y/N]’

A silent tear slipped out of his eye, then another. “Idiot.” he whispered, voice cracking. “You’ve always been too hard on yourself. I think I forgave you a long time ago, I guess I just never wanted to acknowledge it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being too late.”

“And don’t worry, the moon looks beautiful tonight, and so do the roses. They’ve finally bloomed. I think you would have loved to see them, wouldn’t you?”

this took me ages to write, but i hope u like it hehehe anyways votes, reblogs and comments are really very much appreciated <333

[jadedrrose]

Captured

Reader and Law find themselves being captured by marines and thrown into a cell together. They decide to keep themselves busy while they wait for the crew to save them.

Warnings: NSFT, minors dni. Fem bodied reader, no pronouns used though. Reader does wear a skirt, though.

It had been so sudden that there was no avoiding it; you and Law had been on a little date on the island you were currently docked at, going on a walk together as the sun set beneath the ocean line. You two had left the crew not even an hour prior, explaining to come looking for the two of you if neither of you showed up within two hours.

It was then that you were both caught off guard by some marines. You were being a tease, snuggling against your boyfriend as you both walked through a street in the village. You had your eyes closed, talking some nonsense about how much you loved him, while Law was looking up at the stars that were slowly appearing, a smile on his face, not paying any mind to your surroundings.

You were torn away from each other’s arms, Law quickly placed into seastone cuffs and you in regular ones before either of you could react. Then, you were both dragged to the marine’s island base and thrown into a cell.

To your surprise, they’d put you in the same cell, so you started snickering to yourself about how dumb they were to do so. But, they’d taken Kikoku and your weapons away, leaving you both at a disadvantage.

The cell you were placed in together was walled off from the other one, in a locked room with one dim light near the metal door. No windows either, meaning escape would be difficult.

“If we can just wait for an hour, the crew should be able to find us relatively easily,” Law calmly said to you, watching as you attempted to reach into your hair for a pin.

“Let me at least get us out of these cuffs… especially you,” you turned to look at the raven haired man, realizing his hat was gone now. You guessed it had fallen when you were being captured. “I don’t want you feeling weak or exhausted when we may have to fight soon.”

Law simply hummed in agreement, sinking into the floor with his back against the wall. You sat in the middle of the cell, sitting with your legs crossed. After fiddling with your hair for another moment, you found a pin and successfully freed yourself.

You quickly crawled to him, halfway nestling yourself into his lap as you took his hands, using your lock-picking skills to free Law. It took a couple tries, considering that these cuffs were different from yours, but you soon freed him too.

“So we wait now?” You wondered, gazing around the cell as Law’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest.

“Mhm. It shouldn’t be too long. An hour or so, like I said.”

You turned to ruffle Law’s black messy hair, placing a kiss on his nose. “Well… if we have an hour…”

“What? Why are you looking at me like you’re up to some shit?” Law questioned you, an eyebrow raised.

You giggled in return, “remember what I was saying before we were taken? What I wanted when we got back to the submarine…”

Law rolled his eyes, recalling the conversation. “Yeah… you said, how about we go into the operation room and mess around.”

“I said more than that,” you teased. “If I remember right, I think I said that I wanted to ride you, hm?”

Law grumbled in agreement, confirming you were remembering correctly. “And you want to… do that in here?”

“They won’t know if we’re quiet,” you suggest, looking at him with lust evident in your eyes.

Law looks off to the side, clearly pondering it. After a moment of consideration, his gray eyes meet yours again. “Fine. But if they come in here…”

“They won’t,” you reassure Law, hopping off his lap to pull your panties down from underneath your skirt, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans. You slide your hands under Law’s shirt, running your fingers over his toned chest. He begins kissing your neck, and soon your arms are wrapped around each other, while you slowly grind your aching cunt on his thigh.

“Mmm, I think I’m ready,” you say, freezing the movement of your hips. “Can I unzip you?”

Law nods, watching as you remove your hands from his neck and move them to his jeans. You unbutton and unzip them, pushing all the layers of fabric aside before freeing him, his hardened length now presented before you.

You lick your lips, raising yourself above him and let Law’s hands find your hips, as he slowly guides you down onto his rock-hard cock, filling you up so perfectly. A content whine leaves your lips.

The plush skin of your thighs return to his, now seated in his lap once again, only this time, you’re stuffed full with him. You give yourself time to adjust, feeling your wet cunt throb around him as he stretches your velvety hole.

A moment goes by, and you begin raising your hips again before pushing them back down. You repeat this, speeding up with some caution, slightly worried somebody’s going to walk in.

And yet, you’re turned on more by that. Some poor marine walking in and finding you in Law’s lap, with him completely sheathed inside you. You don’t necessarily want that to happen… but the idea is… interesting.

So you begin to moan, increasing the speed of which you ride his cock more. Law lets out a “tch”, playfully smacking your ass before hissing, “you don’t want them to find us, do you, y/n-ya? See what a little slut you are?”

You whine louder, squeezing his cock as the words fall from his lips. Law’s hands are firm on your waist as he continues guiding you up and down, and soon enough, he’s slamming you onto his cock.

Your moans are high-pitched and sweet, hands gripping onto Law’s shirt as you keep riding him, knowing you’re about to orgasm. Law’s making pleased noises too, some pants falling out in between. The way his head is thrown back with his mouth hung open lets you know he’s also close to cumming.

You rock your hips again and again, feeling Law’s cock reach even deeper inside you as he starts rutting up to meet your thrusts. His name falls in sweet babbles from your mouth, unsuccessful attempts at telling him that you’re close, following his name.

“Law, I’m- ahh, I’m gonna- Law!” You cry out, broken moans leaving your lips as you feel yourself creaming on him, your pussy spilling with orgasm.

Law moans, feeling your cunt clenching onto him, trying to milk him of all his seed. “Shit, y/n… you- fuck,” he stutters out, groaning as he lets go and cums inside you. His grip on your flesh is tighter as he holds you down against his cock, not letting you squirm away as he spills into you.

When he lets go, your hips are rocking again, trying to prolong the sensations you’re feeling. You slow the movements of your hips, before collapsing into Law. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to himself as the two of you regain your composure.

Voices flood the hallway, ones that sound annoyed or panicked. You look at the door before back to Law, and you both realize at the same time;

“The crew’s here,” he says, pulling you off of his cock, quickly tucking himself back into his pants.

You readjust your skirt, praying that his cum doesn’t slide down your legs as you both hear the door to the jail room burst open.

Bepo’s the one that broke down the door, easily finding you both as there’s only two cells.

“Captain! Y/n! We came as soon as we realized you hadn’t come back,” he shouts, using his strength as a bear to pull apart the cell bars, giving you and Law space to escape.

As the three of you run out of the base, Shachi and Penguin return your weapons to you and Law. The escape is easy, as the crew had taken care of pretty much all the marines before finding you two. As you all run back to the submarine, you notice Law’s hat laying in the dirt and decide to snatch it as you run by. You dip down, bending over to grab it with your right hand. You hear Law gasp behind you, briefly wondering why as you keep running.

—

Within no time, you’re all back on the ship and leaving the island. You walk down the stairs to the lower levels of the Polar Tang, Law following behind you. And suddenly, you realize why Law gasped at you at the same time that Penguin makes a strange comment.

“Hey captain? What’s hanging out of y-your pocket? Are th…those- y/n’s pan-“

“Shut your mouth, Penguin,” Law snaps, silencing your poor crewmate.

[neo404]

u should write a little cute angsty one shot abt reader having a bad day and nick comforting him

I’m here.

Summary: reader breaks down in Nicks arms after a bad day.

Tw: reader cries, cursing.

It has been a bad day, one of those day were everything goes wrong. They ran out of sugar for my coffee, I hit all the red lights, all the rude people came at my shift, my manager gave me a lecture, bla bla bla.

By the end of the day, I feel exhausted. My body feels heavy, my eyes are watery, my head feels dizzy because of all the emotions I have been bottling up all day. I just wanna go home and cry. But now that I remember, Nick is at my place, I let out a sigh as I unclip my keys from my pants. When I open the door I see Nick on the couch with his laptop on his lap, typing something on it, probably an email.

‘’Hi darling. Welcome home.’’ He says to me, closing his laptop and walking over to me. I close the door and walk to the dinning table, leaving my backpack and keys on top of it and leaning into it. ‘’Hey, everything okay?’’ I massage my forehead with my hand and shake my head, I don’t want to look at him, I don’t want to cry. ‘’It’s okay, I’m here.’’ I feel his arms wrap around my body, my heart aches a bit, I wrap my arms against him and rest my head on his shoulder. ‘’Wanna tell me what happened?’’

‘’It’s dumb.’’ My voice is wobbly, sounding like I’m about to burst into tears, and I am.

‘’No, of course it’s not dumb silly. Let’s go to the couch.’’ Nick walks slowly to the couch, never letting go of me, when he sits down, I am sitting besides him, my face now hidden in the crook of his neck. ‘’What happened, honey?’’

‘’I just…’’ I feel the warm tears running down my face, I hug him tighter and he rubs my back.

‘’Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here.’’ He comforts me and I cry more, I cry for 8 or 10 minutes. He cleans my face with the sleeves of his sweater. ‘’Feel better honey?’’ I nod a bit. ‘’Good, wanna talk now?’’ I nod again. ‘’Okay. Tell me what happened.’’ I sit up a bit, looking at him in the eyes, he grabs my hands and looks at me waiting.

‘’Today was horrible, first my alarm didn’t sound and I had to rush to get ready and turns out I wasn’t running late at all so I went to the cafeteria and I order my usual but they didn’t have enough sugar so I had to drink this biter ass coffee on my way to work and I don’t know how but every time I went to cross the street the lights turner red, at every single stop. And at work all the prick and Karens came o my shift, so I had to deal with that all day long, can you believe some random lady ask me why I had my pronouns in a pin? Like, I don’t know lady, we all use them at this building. And some guy complained about me to my manager and he lectured me like I was the idiot and not this random guy who was mad we didn’t sell what he wanted.’’ I sigh, Nick nods along everything I say, his eyes not leaving mine and squeezing my hand from time to time. ‘’And I know this night was supposed to be a fun date night and we were gonna do nice and fun things but I just feel so shitty right now, I and feel like a bad boyfriend a-…’’

‘’Hey, hey.’’ Nick cuts me off. ‘’You are not a bad boyfriend for feeling bad, it’s not your fault. You had a bad day, you feel bad, it’s okay. We can still have fun, we can cuddle and watch a movie, or after you shower I can give you a massage so you feel better. I don’t care that you feel bad, it’s normal, I care about you and I want you to feel great all time but it’s impossible, so I’m here to try and cheer you up.’’ He kisses my cheek. ‘’You are a good boyfriend. The best boyfriend.’’

‘’Thanks.’’ I mumble and hug him.

‘’It’s okay. It’s over, that shitty day is over. Now you get to relax on your boyfriends’ arms and a massage and movies and snacks that I bought.’’ Nick starts kisses my head.

‘’I love you.’’ I whisper.

‘’I know, I love you more.’’

[kaiapaia]

the choice of hercules

Pairing: Mainly Gojo/Reader, hints of Geto/Reader

WC: 6,361 (I have no explanation for myself)

Content Warnings: This does contain NSFT smut. There are no pronouns for the reader, but they are described to have breasts and a vagina during the smut. The reader is also hinted at losing their virginity during the smut. There are also themes of yandere behavior from both Geto and Gojo, but it gets pretty overt towards the end.

This is a part 2 of my piece The Fall of Icarus, that I wrote for @strawberrystepmom 's It Takes a Galaxy collab. You can find part 1 here. I do recommend reading it, as there will be lore and references in this that won't make sense if you haven't read part 1.

Speaking of lore, I really do play fast and loose with the canon for both Star Wars and JJK in this one, so I would not recommend reading this if you're looking for accuracy from either series.

Once again, thank you to the marvellous Miss Kendall for hosting such a fun collab, and encouraging me to take this from an outline to an actual finished piece. It really is an honor to participate in a collab with and hosted by such amazing and talented authors.

Minors and ageless blogs, DNI. If you don’t have an age in your bio or pinned I will block you.

In the darkest hours of the night, during the increasingly frequent evenings when sleep eludes you, you find yourself silently wishing that you had the strength to walk away. You can picture it; the weight of your saber leaving your hand as you surrender it to the masters, and the weight that would leave your shoulders as you walk away from the Temple for the last time. 

Those thoughts fade like frost in the warmth of the morning light. You take your time getting dressed, making sure that every layer sits perfectly. When you look in the mirror, you wonder who you would be without the armor of your robes and the title of Knight. You are willing to concede that the Order is not perfect, but for all its flaws it is your home and the only family you have ever known. The thought is a comfort in the wake of the despair of the night, and you know in your heart that no matter how deep the despair gets you will not walk away. 

Perhaps this is the attachment you have been warned about since you were a small child- the feeling of craving a home and the security that comes with it that you would do anything to keep it. You wonder if it makes you loyal, or just greedy. You reflexively reach for your comlink, preoccupied with the question you want to ask Geto.

Then you remember Geto left, and you let your arm fall limply to your side. 

You reach up to the phantom space where your pendant used to rest, the memories of your last meeting with Geto playing in your mind. Part of you wonders what would have happened, if you had taken the offer he had laid so temptingly before you. 

The details of Geto’s fall have become a closely guarded secret. Those files have a high enough security clearance that even you can’t access them. Gojo, who will normally tell you anything, just smiled when you asked and ruffled your hair, telling you not to worry your pretty little head. All you were told is that Geto was responsible for the death of an entire village, and you only have the confusing images left by your Force premonition to go on. 

You know something happened. Your premonition confirmed that much, and was further strengthened by the state Geto had been in when you saw him in that alley. The dark side leaves a mark on those who come into contact with it. You are still haunted by the sight of his eyes, glowing gold in the dark shadows of the alley. 

The only information that you’ve been able to glean in the months since is that Geto has been sighted with two young girls, and you’ve heard rumors that he’s started some sort of cult somewhere in the Outer Rim. For a moment you entertain the thought of getting in your ship and setting out to find him, but you are pulled from your thoughts by the sound of a knock at the door. You glance at the clock on your desk and realize that you’ve missed breakfast; someone must have come looking for you. You know it’s not Gojo, he would have just let himself in. You take a moment to recenter yourself, soothing your roiling emotions with the Force, then go to open the door. 

A young man with dark hair and white robes stands on the other side. You recognize him as Gojo’s new Padawan, and a new recruit to the Jedi. He had been discovered only a few months ago, and the overwhelming strength of his power made him dangerous to leave alone. Gojo had volunteered to take the young man under his wing and train him, much to the chagrin of the Council, but that was to be expected from Gojo. 

Yuuta pulls his hand back from where he had been about to knock again. “Ah, good morning! You weren’t at breakfast, so Master Gojo wanted to check on you- he would have come himself, but he was summoned to the Council, so he sent me instead,” he says, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Good morning to you too, Yuuta. I’m sorry you had to come all this way. I merely lost track of time thinking about a case,” You pat him gently on the shoulder and move to step past him into the hallway. “Since I lost track of time, I’m afraid I’m late for my duties. Excuse me.” 

Before you can move past him, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “Master Gojo told me you’d say that. He also gave me specific instructions to make sure you went to the kitchens first and got something to eat before you go to the archives.” 

“Ah, that does sound like him,” you smile ruefully and gently pull your wrist out of Yuuta’s hold. “Well Yuuta, would you like to accompany me? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our upcoming trip, and this is as good a time as any. I’m sure you must have questions.”

He brightens and falls into step alongside you. “I do have some that I’ve been hoping to ask before we leave. What is Dantooine like?” 

“The planet is mostly grasslands, so the view from the enclave there is like looking out onto a moving sea of green. The window from my old room there faced the sunrise, so I used to wake up before dawn to watch the sun come up and turn the clouds pink and the grasses gold,” you smile wistfully. “You can also see the brith playing in the clouds, and if you’re quiet you can get close and watch the piket graze the tops of the trees.”

“Oh, one thing you should be wary of when we go,” you turn to Yuuta. “The kath hounds on Dantooine are dangerous, and easily provoked. If you run into one, do not underestimate it.” 

He looks at you, puzzled. “I thought I was just going to study at the archives there?”

“You grew up in the underbelly here on Coruscant, didn’t you?” When he nods, looking confused, you explain. “It’s important for Jedi to explore many different types of environments, and Dantooine is about as different from Coruscant as you can get. The planet is peaceful, without the pollution and constant noise, but it can be just as dangerous. Part of your training while we’re there will be learning how to navigate an environment that is unfamiliar.” 

When his pale face gets even paler, you reach out and reassure him, both physically and through the Force. “Don’t worry, Yuuta. You won’t be alone while you’re doing this. I’ll be there to help, every step of the way. Think of it as a part research trip, part camping trip.” 

Some color returns to his cheeks, and you see him unclench one hand from the sleeve of his robe. “Ah, that’s good. Master Gojo likes to ‘let me figure things out for myself’, and I usually learn something, but I also usually end up seeing Master Shoko at the end of it.” 

Yuuta’s comlink buzzes. “Oh stars, I’m late for sparring. Maki’s gonna kill me,” he mutters to himself, reading the message. 

You shoo him off with a gesture. “Go, go. I’m sorry for keeping you. I’ll see you in a few days when we leave.” 

“Thank you!” he gives you a quick bow and turns to run down the hallway. 

“Good luck!” you call out after him. You watch him run for a moment, before turning back to your current mission of getting something to eat. The halls are quiet, with the comforting sounds of running water, murmuring voices from the classrooms, and the distant sounds of saber blades crashing providing a backdrop to your walk. 

You are startled out of your reverie by a voice. 

“It’s good to see you smiling again,” Gojo looms from the shadow of a nearby pillar, looking uncharacteristically serious. 

“I smile all the time,” you cross your arms defensively, watching Gojo warily as he approaches. Slowly, he walks you backwards, until you hit the smooth stone of a pillar. He plants a big hand on the pillar next to your head, while the other comes up to cup your chin, one thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip. 

“Those aren’t real,” he says dismissively. “I missed seeing your smile actually reach your eyes. What were you and my darling apprentice talking about that made you so happy, hmm?” 

You know he probably heard you, but you decide to indulge him in whatever game he seems interested in playing today. “He asked me about Dantooine. You know, the trip you asked me to take him on in a few days?” 

“Do you miss it that much? That just talking about it makes you glow like this?” he swipes a thumb over the ridge of your cheekbone. His eyes are covered by his blindfold right now, but you can still feel them on you, following every movement of your face. 

“It was my first home, Gojo. Of course I miss it,” you uncross your arms and make a conscious effort to relax. “My duties have kept me away for a long time, so it’ll be nice to go back, even if it is only for a few days.” 

Reaching out with the Force, you try to get a read on Gojo. He’s closed off at first, but when you make contact he opens himself up to you, just a bit. You get a taste of an anxiety so potent it makes your stomach churn, and the pieces click into place for you. 

The last time one of his friends had left on a mission, they didn’t come back.

Sighing, you reach up and thread your fingers through his silky white hair. You scratch gently at the nape of his neck, in the way that makes him practically purr when he seeks you out and throws himself down into your lap, demanding your attention after he gets back from a long mission. 

“I know where my duty is, Gojo. It’s just a few days, and then I’ll be back.” 

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back.” 

“I promise. I’ll make sure your Padawan comes back in one piece too,” you try a joke, attempting to lift the mood a little, but Gojo ignores it. He folds himself down even further, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear him whisper something as he tightens his arms around you. 

You let him stay like that, his tall body folded down to wrap around your smaller one. It’s only when you hear the approaching voices of other Jedi that you begin to untangle yourself from him, pulling your fingers from his hair and pushing at him gently to try and persuade him to let go. He tightens his grip in response, and you swat at the back of his head. 

“Gojo! What if they see us?” you hiss at him, pushing more insistently. 

“Would that be so bad?” he pulls back a little, just far enough to see your face.

“This is crossing a line and you know it. It would risk both of our positions if someone saw.”

He finally pulls away from you, and the small window he’d opened for you in the Force shuts abruptly. He steps back, putting an appropriate amount of distance between you two, and reaches out to ruffle your hair. “Take care of yourself, starlight,” he says as he walks away, giving you a cheerful two fingered salute as the other Jedi come into view. 

You watch him leave for a moment, waiting until he turns a corner before you continue on your way to the kitchens. Your mind is racing, replaying the interaction in your head. It’s not out of the ordinary for Gojo to do this, but it is strange for him to be so clingy out where you could get caught. Normally he seeks you out either early in the morning or late at night, finding you in either your quarters or your small office in the archives, where he occupies as much of your personal space as he can and demands your attention for however much time he can hide away from his responsibilities. 

Your mind keeps circling back to the words he whispered into the crook of your neck: “If you don’t come back, I swear I’ll find you.” He’d left the door to his emotions open, but you didn’t need to look to know he’d been talking about you, and also Geto. His regret for not being able to save his best friend in time haunted his steps as closely as his own shadow. 

You could feel your own regret begin to creep closer, and you shook yourself physically and mentally. You’d spent enough time thinking about loss and regret today. You grabbed a quick meal from the kitchens and made it to your office, throwing yourself into your work.

That seemed to set the pattern for the week. Yuuta started seeking you out on his own, asking questions about the history of the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, and about the history of the Order in general. It seemed Gojo had taken a very hands on and practical approach to Yuuta’s training; his lightsaber forms and piloting skills had progressed far beyond anyone’s expectations. However, his education was a bit lacking, and you were happy to fill in the gaps and provide the young Padawan with anything he desired, whether it was information, guidance on Force techniques, or simply a quiet place to meditate. 

Gojo also began seeking you out more often, pulling you into dark corners just to hold you for a moment in between his meetings and assignments. He laughed off your questions, simply saying that he just wanted to spend time with you before you left. Even though he was demanding your attention in riskier and riskier places, and you knew he was hiding something, you found yourself unable to say no to him. Physical contact was rare amongst the Jedi, touch limited to a friendly hand on the shoulder or a brief touch in passing. 

There were moments that you found yourself craving the warmth of Gojo’s touch, the way the world narrowed to just the space of his arms. The more he touched you, the hungrier you felt- you knew you were walking a dangerous line but couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. You reasoned with yourself that it would just be for this week, you’d both get it out of your systems, and then things would go back to normal after you returned from Dantooine. So you let yourself indulge, ignoring the specter of Geto’s words from the last time you’d seen him. 

The night before you are set to leave for Dantooine, you wake up in a cold sweat. Your thoughts are a garbled mess, caught halfway between the waking world and dreaming. All you know is that Gojo needs you, right now. You’re still close enough to sleep that the world feels fuzzy at the edges, but you manage to throw a robe over your sleep tunic and make your way out into the dark and empty halls of the Temple. There’s no moon tonight, meaning that the halls are lit only by dim sconces, leaving you to fumble your way in the dark. You can feel Gojo’s presence drawing you in, like the crushing gravity of a black hole. 

You make it to his door, tapping out a code that you know so well it’s muscle memory. The door slides open and you practically fall into the room, looking frantically for Gojo. He’s in his bed, locked in the throes of a nightmare that has him convulsing in the thin sheets of his bed. The dim lights of the hallway shine on his sweat-slicked skin, making it gleam like alabaster before the door slides shut again, leaving you in blackness. You let the pull draw you to him, catching yourself on the edge of his bed. You almost fall forward, planting a knee on the edge of the mattress and resting your hands on Gojo’s chest. 

“Gojo, wake up,” you call, voice hushed but urgent. When he doesn’t respond, you push harder, shaking him as gently as you can. You open the Force connection between you two, and are rapidly overwhelmed by a deluge of images and sounds. You push through it, using your ability to try and calm the storm that is raging in Gojo’s mind. You catch some flashes of his dream before he wakes, coming to consciousness with a jerk. His eyes snap open, glowing electric blue in the darkness as he activates his powers in a self defense reflex. Your eyes meet for a second, his wide and wild as he begins to register where he is. 

He reaches a shaking hand up to you, trembling fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw, the line of your neck, and the delicate wings of your collarbone left exposed by the skewed collar of your sleep tunic. “You’re here,” he breathes, the panicked fight bleeding out of his body. You don’t respond, letting him calm down and also trying to sort through the fragmented flashes of his nightmare you’d seen before he’d woken up. 

Your attention is immediately drawn back to him when he sits up, a flash of movement and a blur of motion before you feel your back hit his mattress. His fingers are entwined with yours, pinning one of your hands to the pillow above your head. You can feel his other hand slip beneath your robe, the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your sleep tunic as he runs his hand up and down your side. He leans down, and his hot breath on the sensitive skin of your neck sends a shiver down your spine. 

Gojo nuzzles your neck, tracing the line of it with the tip of his nose. He’s babbling something, but his voice is low enough that even in the quiet of his room you can’t quite hear what he’s saying. He seems to realize this when you stay silent, and he drags his head from the crook of your neck. “Please, let me have you, starlight. I need to feel that you’re alive,” he begs, eyes blown so wide that the luminous blue of his eyes is pushed to a thin ring around the cavernous black of his pupils. A thought echoes in the back of your mind; this is the first time you’ve seen Gojo without his blindfold since Geto fell.

Whatever had pulled you to his room has worn off, leaving you slightly dazed but aware of where you are. You cannot blame it for the feelings welling up under your skin, threatening to burst with each brush of Gojo’s skin. You know that the Code dictates that you should push him off, go back to your room, and meditate to drive this attachment away. You move to do so, and your leg brushes up against him. He makes a punched out sound, caught somewhere in between a filthy moan and a sob. You freeze, hands on his chest. 

“Don’t go,” he pleads, voice thick with an emotion you are afraid to put a name to. “Please, starlight, I need you. Let me take care of you.” He drops his head to yours and reaches for one of your hands, pressing it further against his chest. You can feel his heart pounding, racing like the engines of the speeders he loves to fly so much. “Please, stay.”

There are two thoughts at war in your mind. One is the Code, a creed you have had memorized for so long recalling the words is as easy as breathing. You know what the Code dictates, what it demands from you. From both of you. You also know what it has taken from you. 

The other is the fact that you are getting a second chance at something you’ve wanted more than anything- a chance to be close to someone you love. That thought stuns you for a second. Geto was your first love, a secret that you buried deep after he fell and swore to never dig up. You’ve been scared to face your feelings for Gojo because of that. You know what your feelings are, but have hidden from them out of fear, fear that they will lead you astray from your duty, from the oath that you swore when you became a Knight. 

In the face of Gojo’s desperation, you feel ready to voice those feelings. The closed door and the darkness around you makes you feel bold, finally ready to face a truth you’ve been hiding from for months now. Mind made up, you lean up, closing the scant few inches between the two of you to press your mouth to Gojo’s. He makes a broken sound, his hand moving to cradle your head as he presses closer to devour your mouth. He wastes no time pulling you as close as possible, tongue plundering your mouth. 

He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours. He nestles himself between your thighs, hips making small, jerky movements against you, as if he can’t control himself. “It’s been unbearable, starlight,” he moans. “To have you so close and not be able to do anything. If only you knew how often my last thoughts at night are of you. I see signs of you everywhere, and each one makes me crave you in a way I can’t endure.” 

Gojo trails kisses from your lips down to your jaw, nipping at the corner of it and tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. His mouth keeps travelling down, biting and sucking at your neck. A soft moan stutters its way out of your mouth, and he shivers against you. “That’s it, starlight. Let me know how good I make you feel,” you feel his breath, cool now against the sheen of saliva on your skin. You feel him bite down, hard enough to leave a mark, just below where the collar of your robes sits against your throat. “There we go,” he murmurs, kissing the mark. “A secret for just us.” 

He retreats just far enough to give you space to shed your robe and sleep tunic. He touches every inch of exposed skin, hands and mouth on you like he cannot bear to be separated from you for more than a moment. He moans low in his throat when your breasts are revealed, pushing you back down into the mattress to bury his face in the soft mounds. You moan again as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the sound high and sweet in the quiet of his room. The vibrations against your nipple of his answering moan make you squirm against him, and you thread a hand in his hair, unsure if you’re trying to keep him close or push him away. 

He releases your nipple with a pop, blowing teasingly against the spit slicked peak and laughing low in his throat when you squirm against him again. “You taste so good, starlight. I can’t think about anything else,” he moans against you. He slides a hand down, teasingly dragging his fingers down your skin to your folds, where he swipes a finger through the wetness that he finds at the apex of your thighs. He teases your clit with a finger, tracing nonsensical shapes over it until you’re panting breathlessly underneath him. He slides a finger in, and you cling to him at the sensation of him inside you. He adds a second finger, slowly working you open, moving his fingers and rubbing his thumb over your clit. You can feel something twisting in your gut, a molten heat that spreads from your center to the rest of your body. 

“I wish I could do this for longer, but I need to be inside you, starlight,” he murmurs. He brings his hand, still slicked with your wetness, to his shaft. He strokes himself a few times, before lining himself up at your entrance. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Gojo, please,” you beg, dragging your nails gently down his back. 

“Say my name,” he growls, pushing into you slowly. There’s a prick of pain as he enters you, but he reaches down to rub your clit and lets you slowly adjust. Once you open your eyes again, he grabs your hand and twines your fingers together, pressing into the pillow next to your head as he starts to move. 

“S-satoru!” you cry out, arching your back at the sensation of him inside you. 

“That’s it,” he encourages you, using his free hand to hike one of your legs further up on his back, opening you up to him. You can’t control the noises you’re making anymore, clinging onto him as he pounds into you. Gojo doesn’t  seem to be faring much better, squeezing your hand and scattering mindless kisses wherever he can reach as he sinks into you. “Come on, cum for me starlight.” He bites at your neck, and with a twist of his thumb on your clit you find yourself coming apart at the seams. Your back arches and you clamp down on him, pulling a deep stuttering groan from his chest. You feel him twitch inside you, and as your body relaxes you feel a rush of warmth inside you. He finishes with a long moan, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck. 

Gojo loops his arms around you and rolls over, letting you rest on his chest. You feel him press a kiss to your hair as he rubs a soothing hand up and down your spine. You move to get up, but his arms stay fixed around you. “Don’t leave,” he begs softly, his wide blue eyes staring up at you from his mussed sheets. You’ve gone this far, you decide. What’s a little further? 

“Okay,” you whisper, nestling back down against his chest. He hums happily and pulls you closer, and between the gentle caress of his fingers, the warmth of his skin, and the beat of his heart you find yourself drifting back to sleep. This time, your rest is peaceful, unmarred by dreams of any kind. 

You wake early, before the sun has risen. Gojo is still asleep, one arm loosely  around your waist. You take in your state of undress, and spend a moment thinking about what to do next. There’s no future for the two of you together. You know this. For that to happen, you would both have to abandon your duty, and you know Gojo is as unlikely to waver in his duty as you are to walk away from yours. However, you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. Slowly, as to not disturb him, you climb out of bed and grab your clothes. You dress quietly and turn back to Gojo before you leave, coming over to stand next to his bed. 

“Goodbye, Satoru,” you whisper, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Then, you walk away, shutting the door quietly behind you. You are quiet as you return to your room. There’s not much to do to prep for your trip, but you find what you can do to keep your hands and mind busy in the short time between now and your departure. 

Yuuta greets you in the hangar, but seems to sense that you’re not up for conversation this morning. You finish your flight prep together, and take off a little before you’re scheduled to leave. As you leave the hangar, you see a flash of white hair on the ground. You know he’s down there, but you choose not to look, focusing on the sky above you and the stars beyond.

One hyperspace jump later, you and your temporary apprentice land in the Dantooine enclave. Once you step out of the ship, you are greeted by the familiar sights and smells of the first home you can remember. The enclave smells like sunlight on warm grass, and old parchment and ink. It feels like coming home.

You are greeted by Knights you remember from your days in the creche, and introduce Yuuta to them. They are instantly taken by the young boy’s earnest charm, and you leave them to exchange pleasantries for a moment as you walk, taking in the familiar sights. Your comlink buzzes, but you choose to ignore it. 

The both of you settle into your new environment quickly. Yuuta blooms like a flower under the doting care of the older archivists who are overseeing your work for the week, and spends every moment he can outside. After the first day, you introduce him to the wonders of the sunburn ointment the archivists of the enclave make for people who spend as much time out in the sun as he has. Your comlink has been buzzing regularly since you arrived, and you’ve taken to leaving it in your quarters, trusting the enclave masters to let you know if any important messages come through for you while you’re in the archives. 

Four days into your trip, the enclave gets a ping from a distress beacon deep into the plains. You volunteer to investigate, bringing Yuuta along to help him with his field experience goals. In the interest of urgency, the two of you share one of the enclave’s speeder bikes, and you track the beacon to a grove of blba trees far to the north of the enclave. You leave the speeder bike a safe distance away, and reach out with the Force to try and assess the situation. Strangely, nothing appears when you cast your net, which sends a cold feeling trickling down your spine. Making a sign to Yuuta to be quiet, you approach the grove. 

The beacon is embedded in the ground, flashing and beeping in intervals. There are no bodies around it, and after further investigation, not even signs of conflict. Your feeling of dread intensifies; either this is a simple prank or a trap, and your instincts are telling you it’s the latter. 

“Hello, little light,” comes a smooth, deep voice from behind you. You straighten, and turn. Geto stands behind you, dappled in light and shadow underneath one of the trees. His hair is longer, and he’s clad in unfamiliar robes. A strange saber hilt is strapped to his waist, though he makes no move to draw it. “I have been waiting for this reunion for a long time. But before we can be properly reacquainted, I must speak to your young friend here.” 

Geto turns to Yuuta. “Greetings, young Padawan,” he calls from across the glade. “I am glad to finally meet you. The rumors I have heard about you are simply fascinating.” 

You step in between them. “Stay back, Geto,” you warn, hand on your saber. 

“I came simply to talk,” he raises his hands in a placating gesture. He looks over your shoulder, where Yuuta is watching warily. “My name is Suguru Geto, young one. My goal is to liberate those blessed by the Force in our wide universe. Those blessed with gifts like ours should have people at our beck and call, instead of being at someone else’s disposal, don’t you agree?”

“We have our gifts to defend the weak,” Yuuta recites, taking a step back. 

Geto clicks his tongue. “So new to the Order, and already reciting their scripture. Think, young Padawan, how many more people would we be able to help, to save, if things were different? Don’t you wish Rika could have been saved?” 

You hear Yuuta’s gasp, though he tries to hide it. “That’s enough, Geto.” You draw your saber, finger on the ignition. “Don’t make me fight you.” 

Geto ignores you, continuing to look at Yuuta. “Will you join me, Yuuta Okkotsu? All I want is to make the galaxy a safer place, one where young ones like you don’t have to become soldiers, and one where girls like Rika simply get to live.”

You hear Yuuta waver. You refuse to sway his emotions- you know this is a choice he must make on his own. He takes a step forward and your heart drops for a moment, before you hear the sound of his saber leaving his belt.

 “I’ve heard stories about you too, Suguru Geto,” Yuuta says, leveling his saber at the man. “I’m not sure that your vision for the galaxy is not one that Rika would have wanted to live in.”

“What a shame,” Geto shakes his head. “If you will not join me, then take a message back to your Masters. Either they bring you to Malachor within a month’s time, or I will unleash what I have learned in my time in the shadows on both this enclave and the Temple on Coruscant.”

Your blade ignites with a hiss. “That won’t  happen,” you level your blade, the tip pointing steadily at Geto. “Yuuta,” you call the Padawan’s name without breaking eye contact with your former friend. “Take the bike back to the enclave. Tell the Knights there what happened.” 

“I can’t leave-” Yuuta begins, but you cut him off.

“Go, Yuuta. It is my duty to protect you and the rest of the enclave. Tell them what happened, and return with reinforcements.” You feel the boy’s emotional conflict, and you use your abilities to bolster his resolve. He hesitates for another moment, before nodding and clipping his saber to his belt. 

“I’ll be back for you!” he calls over his shoulder as he darts to the bike. The engine roars to life and you hear him take off over the plains. 

The only sounds in the glade now is the wind rustling through the tall grass, and the hum of your lightsaber, still ignited and leveled at one whom you had once sworn never to raise a blade against.  

“What a loyal dog,” Geto shakes his head. “This is not quite what I had in mind for our reunion. Though if you insist we come to blows, I will indulge you.” He unclips his strange looking saber from his belt, and the scarlet blade roars to life with a crackle. You set your feet in your stance, lifting your blade to meet his as Geto comes flying at you. There is a sizzle and crackle as the blades cross, sparks flying in your vision as you stop his swing. 

You push back, using a blast of Force energy to break his guard and swing at his weak spot. He manages to leap out of the way of your blow, his robes fluttering on the wind. Your blades crash together, his scarlet saber crackling with a strange energy. It shoots off sparks that burn your hands and face, and you find yourself on your back foot, trying to guard against his powerful swings. 

In an attempt to regain some ground, you take a risk and drop under one of his swings, the sparking blade flying just past the top of your head. As you stand up, you position your saber in the path of his momentum, hoping that you’ll at least be able to wound him.  

Geto chuckles. In a flash, he’s caught your saber hand, twisting your sword arm off to the side as his momentum carries you both to the ground. “I taught you that move, little light. I appreciate your resolve, but I will not be felled by such a trick.” 

You watch his gaze drift lower, to where the collar of your robes has loosened. “Oh, what’s this, little light?” his free hand nudges aside your collar, revealing the shadow of the mark Gojo had left on you several nights before. “Who could have left this on you, little light?”

Geto powers off the saber he has held to your throat so he has clear access to your neck. He leans down, delicately sniffing along the skin that still bears the marks from your night of passion. “It was our dear friend Satoru, wasn’t it? I can practically smell him on you,” Geto purrs. “I did tell you to indulge, I suppose. I wish you would have waited, I wanted to indulge in you first.” 

“What’s your game, Geto?” you ask. You wiggle your fingers, trying to subtly get a grasp on the hilt of your saber.

 He clucks his tongue at you. “Now now, none of that,” he grabs your saber and clips it to his own belt, out of your reach. “I told you my plan- I want the boy. I’ve given those fools at the Temple everything they need: a reason to doubt a boy they already fear, and now I have you. You think Satoru wouldn’t give up that little apprentice of his to get you back?” Geto strokes a hand down your neck, pressing his thumb into the healing bruise just under your collar. 

“I suppose the question now is, would I give you back for one apprentice?” he muses, looking down at you. He slides his hand up, grasping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “There’s something about you that just makes me want to keep you, my plan be damned. I doubt you’d mind, you’d just be trading one pretty tower for another. Either way, you’re very important to what happens next, and I can’t have you trying anything that would only end up hurting you. So, sleep, little light. You’ll want the energy for what comes next.”

Geto’s smile is the last thing you see before your eyes close, the power of the Force command dragging you under. You feel him lifting you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin, and then the darkness takes you.

[littleesister]

Tickle rp - green and red flags

Hello dears, I’ve recently had a few conversations with my new lers and lees. And I wanted to make a checklist on how to stay safe during rp

Remember consent is given before, after and during all types of intimacy, so here are a few examples:

Before:

Age and pronouns

What names and nicknames may be used

Ask about boundaries

Decide what spots are going to be tickled

Spots that are gonna be avoided

What tools to use or avoid

Restraints, pinning and how close the lee and ler should be

If both parties should have a safe word

During:

ONLY tickle or mention spots that have been chosen

ONLY use tools and nicknames that have been chosen

Regularly check in and ask questions

Give options for breaks and changing position or technique

Respect safe words and boundaries

If someone changes their mind about a spot stop and talk about it

After:

Cuddles and reassurances

Relax and talk about calming things while both parties recollect themselves

Don’t evaluate instantly since both parties are still full of dopamine and the brain needs time to come down from a high and flustered mood

After a few minutes or even the next day evaluate how the session went for both parties

Stay in contact and don’t just disappear after you’ve gotten what you wanted

Tips for the ler:

Remember you are in a position of power and it’s your responsibility to be in charge since your lee is in a different headspace at the moment. Be carful not to go with the flow. The lee might say yes or keep giggling if you ask them something but afterwards they might regret it. In a flustered headspace you can’t think straight nor consent to a new thing. So that’s why boundaries were sett before. Stick to the script!

Tips for lees

Be on the lookout is your ler asking for boundaries, checking in and staying on track. Are they prioritizing your wants and needs? Do you feel safe to be vulnerable or does it feel forced? If you at any point get an icky or uncomfortable feeling, use a safe word and speak out. You can change your options before, after and during. But remember it’s harder to change something afterwards so speak up. And if you feel like you can’t be open with your ler, then why are you with them!

Please stay safe and rember people lie all the time online and in real life about their age, personality and intentions. If at any point someone feels disingenuous you have two options:

confront them

or

ignore them

A few last tips

Don’t laugh at or make an overstepping of a boundary into a joke, you’re valid to sett a stop and guidelines so don’t discredit yourself.

If an apology is mostly self centered and not taking your feelings into account it’s not genuine.

You don’t owe anyone anything: no pictures, no roleplay, no reactions and no time.

Be aware of gaslighting, manipulation, narcissistic and psychopathic tendencies and how to spot these actions.

Say no, use safe words, speak up, ignore, ghost, leave behind and move on, you deserve only the best

If someone makes you feel uncomfortable they aren’t worthy of your time and that’s period!

[honeybleed]

resolve ⋆ jean kirstein

content & warnings: female reader, she/her pronouns, black-coded reader, modern au, injuries (reader busts her ass in da shower), break up & reconciliation. too lazy for smut but suggestive here and dere

author’s note: jean kinda hotheaded and mean here soz but tagging my fellow comrades @potofstewie @angelktski @junevenile @chrollohearttags in the great Horse Face War of 1853 😼❤️ @digitalreblogs an eren connie girlie but she gets a tag 😹💓

word count: 2.7k

The two of you entered the apartment in absolute silence. So much so, you could hear a pin drop. The car journey home wasn't any better.

"I'll be on my way." Jean said, coldly as he stood in the doorway. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"The least you could do is look at me, Jean." You said, voice faltering. You tried to pull him inside but he stood frigid. Unmoving.

"Why? So I can remember the face of my girlfriend who had no issue leaving my side to flirt with her ex all night?" He said, through gritted teeth, the vein in his forehead pulsing.

"I'm sorry, I really am but I wasn't unfaithful to you, I didn't do anything inappropriate with him. Please understand that.." You pleaded, on the verge of tears as you desperately tugged his arm.

"Keep provoking me and you're going to make me unleash the ugly side you really won't like." He hissed.

He looked down at you, as he notice your lip quiver slightly and tears gloss over your eyes.

The last thing he ever would want is to make you cry. He felt like crap but you hurt him, immensely.

He yanked his arm away from your grip and turned away to let out an irritated sigh.

"Just...give me some space. I need time." He said as he ran his fingers through his hair, frustratedly.

"Don't leave me, please..." You babbled, tears streaming down your face. "It's just a misunderstanding, it's all-"

Door slam.

"Please…"

-

You had to adjust to single life again.

“I lived alone before Jean, and I’m sure I can live alone after." You thought to yourself as you absentmindedly gazed out the window, reminiscing on the events of the past few days.

You had left your purse at home and realised halfway through your shift. So you headed back during your break while co-worker took over your shift.

Your gait began to slow down as you approached the street of your apartment. Your brows furrowed when you saw a few boxes on the pavement and Connie stood by Jean’s car.

Connie called out your name in surprise as his eyes widened. "I thought you were at work?" He stuttered, his voice getting high-pitched with an uneasy laugh.

"...I’m on break, I left something at home." You responded, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

Connie took a nervous glance at the entrance of the building, as Jean walked out carrying a large box, with a few shoeboxes piled up.

As soon as you and Jean made eye contact, you froze. Feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

He let out a sigh and made his way over to put the boxes in the trunk of the car as you stared in complete and utter disbelief.

"You...were going to just leave while I was gone?" You stuttered, in shock.

"I told you Y/N, we're on a break. Don’t act so surprised." He said haughtily, as he slammed the trunk shut.

"You sure as hell didn't tell me you were moving out!" You exclaimed.

"Don’t make a scene. I’m just crashing at Connie’s for a few days."

And with that, he walked away and got in the passenger seat. Connie pulled an apologetic face and followed suit.

-

Nothing felt worth it anymore.

You had gotten in full glam and had went clubbing with your friends but all you could think of was Jean.

Any song that came on, reminded you of when he would pull you against him on the dance floor and kiss like nobody was watching.

How he would shamelessly touch you up during a number and it would get you so hot and bothered that you'd rush into the backseat of his car for an impromptu make out session which then lead onto other things.

How he never drank because he always wanted to be the responsible one no matter what.

The car journeys home he would always stop at a gas station and let you pick any snacks you wanted.

You let out a sigh as you felt the all too familiar lump in your throat and chest beginning to tighten.

"I am always fucking crying..!" You thundered to yourself, punching the side of the bathroom stall.

After you recollected yourself after that little moment, you leaned your head against the window on the cab drive home.

"I think you shouldn't invite me out again." You had told your friend in the backseat.

"Babe, I don't want you at home sulking every evening..!" She slurred as she threw her arms around you.

She was a clingy drunk whereas you were an emotional drunk.

"I don't sulk.." You tittered.

There were a few knocks on the door.

"God who is at the door at this time?! It's almost 11...!" You cried out, wincing in pain.

Instantly regretting the idea of showering before bed because you were so uncoordinated and clumsy, you slipped and crashed everything all the products pelted onto you and made sounds almost similar to thunder.

You mustered the last of your strength to pull yourself up to switch off the faucet but it was no use.

You were stuck in that position, because all movements hurt like a bitch.

"Y/N? You home? I texted you and I'm not getting any response!" Jean called out. He thumped on the door again.

He let out a frustrated sigh at the silence and hung his head. He then placed his ear on the door and could hear a pattering of water.

"Fuck it." He muttered.

Jean had thrown himself into work following your break, it ate him up inside as much as it did you, but the last thing he wanted to do was throw out mixed signals.

If he was the one who wanted a break, he had to adhere to giving you space.

"Look, I'm coming in okay? I just need to get some files I left there."

He reluctantly took the spare key from underneath the plant pot.

"I told her about this." He muttered under his breath as he entered the apartment.

"WHO IS THERE?!" He heard a voice cry out from the bathroom.

"Y/N, it's me, Jean! Maybe you would know if you actually picked up your phone!"

"Help me, please!"

His eyes widened in alarm at the sound of your voice. He rushed over but paused.

"What’s wrong?! Can I come in?" He exclaimed, frantically.

"I’m naked, but yes.." You groaned.

He pushed the door open and saw you slouched in the corner of the tub, shower head still running as your shoulder was at an unnatural angle.

"Did you slip?" He asked voice panicked, eyes still wide in fear as he crouched beside the tub.

"Yes...it hurts to move.." You sniffled.

"Okay, just wait a second. I'll get you a towel." He said, firmly to compose himself as he turned off the faucet.

As he leaned over to slowly assist you out of the tub, he frowned.

"Have you been drinking?!" He hissed as he caught a whiff of the strong spirits you'd downed earlier.

"Yeah.." You said, meekly. Not finding any point in lying or defending yourself.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you know how irresponsible you have to be to fucking shower? You should've slept it off!" He ranted as he settled you on the closed toilet seat.

"I'm sorry okay? It's just that everybody else was drunk too so..I didn't have...you.." You trailed off.

He glared at you and patted you dry with the towel.

"That's not an excuse and you know it. You're an adult, so act like one."

You giggled.

"I never told you how adorable you are when you get into Mom mode and nag me, did I?"

"Whatever." He huffed. "What clothes do you want? I'll dress you before I call the paramedics."

"Just your college sweatshirt and shorts."

He pursed his lips as he held them in his hands. He had to not try to think too much of it, but it was difficult.

After he dried you and dressed you, he gently picked you up, trying his hardest not to cause you any pain. He placed you onto the couch this time.

"They're coming soon, okay?" He said after he hung up, arms folded. "Just sit tight."

Panic morphed into irritation.

He looked around at the state of your apartment, glancing at the golden slip dress and heels you had thrown on the floor.

"I would've tidied up, if I knew you were coming." You muttered, sheepishly.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't need to." You immediately hissed in pain when you accidentally tried to turn away.

"Careful.." He warned.

"Why are you here anyways?" You questioned.

"I told you, I left some files here. That's all. And speaking of which, the number of things that have pissed me off since I came back here...why do you have your spare key in the most obvious area? Any murderer or creep could've broken in here!"

"Okay, I'm sorry!" You sighed, struggling to meet his eye.

"I don't think you get it. I'm not here anymore Y/N. There isn't anybody for you to depend upon so you need to start taking care of yourself! Maybe I took the lead a bit too much in our relationship because it seems like you're struggling with day-to-day life!"

"Since when do you fucking care?" You seethed.

"I do care about you, for Christ's sake. You think just because we break up I want god-awful things to happen to you?! Real mature Y/N."

"If you cared, you would've tried to fix things with me instead of trying to sneak away like a COWARD!"

"What the hell is there to repair when you are in love with your EX!" He bellowed, and a heavy silence fell over the two at his accusation.

Your argument was put to an end when there was a knock at your front door.

“I guess that’ll be them.” You said, lowly.

“…Yeah.” He responded, then made his way to open the door.

-

"Well...the good news is it's just a mild sprain." The nurse said with a gentle smile. "A few days of rest, compressing and ice and it’ll be fine.”

“That’s a relief.” He said to the nurse, with a grin. He’d been sneaking glances at you but hadn’t said a word.

"I don't love him." You finally spoke, after the nurse left the bay to fetch a compression bandage.

"Huh?"

"I don't love him. And I wanted to be extra careful with you. I wanted it to go smoothly, just saying I love you is a very heavy thing and I don't wanna throw it around just because we're fighting."

"It's fine." He sighed.

“It’s not, Jean. I just…I didn’t see him in a while.”

“Y/N..just leave it. Don’t apologise, I’m just..an idiot sometimes. You’ve never given me a reason not to trust you.”

“…Jean.”

He took a step closer to cup the side of your face, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“I think…you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And you’ll leave me.”

You wanted to tell him it was silly. But for some reason, your tongue felt heavy.

You suddenly heard the curtain yank and Jean backed away.

“Am I interrupting something?” The nurse said with a giggle. “Good news, you lovebirds can be on your way. But Missy here has to take a week off to recover. I take it you’ll be her guardian, Mr. Boyfriend?”

You were about to speak, and say you’d probably have to call a family member or something but Jean beat you to the punch.

“That’s fine by me. Come on, honey. Let’s get you home.” He said, with a smile.

“…Jean?” You questioned as he tucked you into bed when you reached your apartment after you were discharged.

“Mhm?”

“Why…? I thought…we broke up..” You said, a little awkwardly.

“Look, I know you. And the last thing you want is to move back to your family’s home for the week. So just let me handle this.”

“Okay.” You said, not arguing.

“Night.” He said, switching off the light in your room, and shutting the door behind him to sleep on the couch.

The next few days, Jean became your new guardian while you recovered.

"You sure you haven't got work?" You questioned as he dashed around the kitchen, cooking lunch.

"I can work from home." He scoffed. "I never took off-days so they trust me. Nobody even knows we broke up apart from our friends."

It was only a week. A week with no affection or intimacy, yet somehow the days of the man being your caretaker, helping you get better was better than your last days of being boyfriend and girlfriend.

You forgot how much he could make you laugh. And not the coy giggles when you looked up at him through your lashes with a come-hither look.

It was an ugly snort, and belly and sides aching type of laughter.

It was torturous too. After the sprain, the nurse said every few hours you had to put an icepack on your shoulder.

When you sat on the edge of your bed with Jean sat behind you, your top off just to provide ease of access for him to press it there for about fifteen to twenty minutes, your brain was not helping.

Your imagination ran wild, and you pictured the most obscene images with him from your past.

You wondered to yourself if he felt the same way. Perhaps, because every instance with the icepack he pursed his lips and didn’t say a word.

He was holding back.

-

You had a final check-up to see if everything was fine and if you healed okay, which thankfully you were.

“How’s Connie?” You questioned as the two of you walked upstairs.

“Honestly, I forgot how much of a slob he is at times. Drives me nuts.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “But it reminds me of college, which is fun.”

He stood outside the door, hesitant.

“Jean, stop being ridiculous. You’ve been here all week, what gives? Or are you a vampire and I have to invite you in again?”

“No, it’s just..”

“Don’t let me go again.” You heard a voice in your head whisper. “Don’t make me be the one to beg.”

You hoped the way you watched him as he struggled to say something conveyed that.

“I’m sorry…” He said, shakily.

“Stop apologising…please…” You responded, still gazing at him.

His light brown eyes, reminiscent of amber flitted from your own eyes, then down to your lips and back to your eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?” He murmured, voice low which caused a coil to begin to form in your stomach and your thighs to press together.

Jean Kirstein drove you insane.

“Yes…” You replied, voice hoarse. It felt like years as he edged closer to lean in but his lips finally touched yours, very gently and softly. As if you would shatter if he was too strong.

His large hands cupped the side of your face to move against you, swiping his tongue across the seam of your lips.

The sudden intrusion caused you to shudder and jolt closer to him, which he took full advantage of, pulling you flush against his body.

Jean is very vocal, there were times when you begged him to quiet down but the man couldn’t help himself, especially when he had you all to himself.

You felt silly, but the lewd noises of lips smacking and his breathy moans as his hands roamed across your waist made you needier for him.

That is, until you got the shock of your life when your neighbour from across your apartment’s door swung open and you immediately squealed, pushing Jean off.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” You rambled, cheeks heating up in humiliation as they backed into their apartment and slammed the door.

You started in bewilderment at what had just taken place, then you turned to meet his eyes. And you both fell into a fit of laughter at the surreality of it all.

He nudged his forehead against your own, his breathing shallow from the heated kiss.

“Let me show you how much I missed you.” He said, framing the sides of your face.

“Indoors, I hope.” You giggled.

author’s note: i kinda made the reader a bird and a pushover but i can’t help myself sawry im halle bailey level bird when it comes to jean😹

enjoyed this? check out my masterlist !!

[thatdeadaquarius]

m thinkin abt the “blunt vs flowery” language thing and…… in the year of our lord 2023, i don't even want to imagine how far back we'd have to go in genshins timeline until we see ‘hey shawty' written on a cave wall-

you try to be better about it, sometimes, using only the fanciest words and the most floral of tones, but all you ever succeed in doing is giving zhongli flashbacks to the archon war-

in the same vein: modern humor. would literally make them think "is this some sort of divine joke im too mortal to understand?" except even the archons need to cite sources on why a piece of bread falling over would be funny- maybe you slip sometimes, but you only ever get halfway through like “i’m neurodivergent and a minor” before you realize they don’t know what that means— “what if i had blue hair and pronouns” but they’re just sitting there like… doesn’t everybody have pronouns….? and kaeya has blue hair- are you implying he’s divine? what about chongyun?? xingqiu??????

anyway um. this is me bringing up my unfortunate (but very funny) habit of saying “i’ll boil you like soup” whenever i’m mildly inconvenienced and hoping it triggers Thoughts about the casual/slang threats we make and how they cope

sorry if this reads incoherently it’s 1am for me rn— also i’m debating becoming a regular anon here, are your applications open? 👉👈

SORRY IF I RAN U OFF BY NOT REPLYING QUICKLY!! BUT I’D LOVE TO HAVE LABELLED ANONS! I’ve already added some taken name I could see in my mailbox so check the pinned post and choose whatever isn’t taken! phrase or emoji, etc.! :)

this isnt super long bc ur stuff seemed chill on its own/idk what I could add! So I just focused on one aspect

gif is literally everyone reacting to you trying to speak “flowery” like them lol

ALSO u guys probably dont remember bc I took so long but I’m still writing/going to post that Blunt Lang. AU Fanfic One-Shot! so here’s some quick headcanons ill add on ive got anon!!

No TWs/Content Warnings. SFW.

so this was gonna be chill but-

BESDIES RANDOM SHIT LIKE MEME REFERENCES

THAT WONT MAKE SENSE TO THEM BC INHERENT INTERNET/DIGITAL UNDERSTANDING NEEDED

WHAT IF ALL UR JOKES OR REFERENCES ARE QUITE LITERALLY, ANCIENT??

like anon said about even the archons having to pull out sources/cite your stuff to understand it, like finding really old tablets/scrolls/carved wall words 😭

u giving Zhongli a history lesson/brush up LMAO

If ur annoyed at them u just need to make more jokes, leave em scrambling for their pocket notes LOL

I like to think since you sound the OLDEST

that the ancient shit like Phanes/Four Shades/Seven Sovereigns are the closest in speech

(look theyre all alive and shit for my genshin, goddamit i still gotta tell u guys abt my genshin fill-in lore au)

and they’re closer to the “beginning of history” in teyvat so theyd get more references

theyd literally understand u the best and they like, all in the Abyss or like deep in Teyvat,

so u just casually strolling up to Azdaha’s place instead like

“How’s your day been Azhy?”

“Same as the days many before, my lord. How are thee?”

“Good enough, hey, why don’t I bring some food from my old world by that I’ve made for you to try out? Something new, y’know?”

camera pan left to see Zhongli looking up, then back down as he scribbles notes trying to better understand, Xiao has crossed his arms and is squinting, Ganyu is behind Zhongli and is trying to peek over his shoulder, Cloud Retainer and other adepti have like hidden nearby to overhear lol

♤

FLASHBACKS FOR ZHONGLI-

HE’S OVER HERE LIKE

“Please do not disturb your countenance my Wànsuìyé, the vernacular is pleasant to mine ears and sufficient for speech.”

“I shall, uh, try my best Zhongli, thought I know ye have- wait- thy have? Whatever, accepted it, I shall keep attempting to better match thee!”

HIS FACE-

He’s literally just → 😰😣💀

(flashback to at least 1 really ancient/old god he had to fight for his life against, they were the hardest battle he’s ever faced, and Azhdaha was helping him by that point too, so it wasn’t even like he won alone… rip zhongli got ptsd)

He keeps trying to subtly stop you from practicing it, he also desperately discourages others from helping you 😭

(Zhongli was about to be called Rex Lapis again when Venti was trying to get on his last nerve by constantly encouraging you to speak fancier, but in the incorrect way, at dinner with them one time)

Like that last content with them pretending not to kow each other but 5x the tension and Venti is fooling around even more so than usual lol

THANKS FOR SENDING IN YOUR IDEAS!! I FUCKING LOVE HEARING OTHER PPLS BRAINROTS OVER STUFF!! AND SORRY AGAIN IT TOOK FOREVER!! ITS BEEN A ROUGH YEAR OF UNI FOR ME/IM GRADUATING!! <333 TYSM ANON!!

Safe Travels,

💀 ♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonderss / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylazaa / @genshin-impacts-mee / @wholesomey-artistt / @thedevioussmirk

[admirxation]

Broken Locks | Part 3

𓆩♡𓆪┆other parts: part one | part two | part four | part five

𓆩♡𓆪┆pairing: las plagas! yandere! re4! leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

𓆩♡𓆪┆summary: Leon has managed to “punish” the reader into having feelings for him, while she knows this is wrong, the part of her brain wanting to give in is slowly taking over her mentality.

𓆩♡𓆪┆word count: 2.3k

𓆩♡𓆪┆disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! i do not condone everything i write, my writing doesn’t reflect all my morals. if any of the following warnings trigger or make you feel uncomfortable, scroll away; you are in charge of what content you’re consuming. this is 18+ only, minors are strongly advised not to interact.

𓆩♡𓆪┆warnings: nsfw 18+, mdni. female anatomy and she/her pronouns used for reader. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Noncon, kidnapping, traumatic memories, knife play, injury (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering, f strips in front of m, forced pregnancy/motherhood & Stockholm syndrome.

𓆩♡𓆪┆note: parts of the story that are bold and in italics is a flashback before anyone gets confused <3

Chapter three: my possession

These conditions were inhumane, dehumanising, something out of a horror novel, and you wished it was just a story; wishing what you were going through would just be something you could close and forget about, but no, you were currently enduring a never-ending story of entrapment and fear.

Nights were getting worse, your freedom being withered a long time ago but your yearning to be let go grew stronger with every second Leon possessed your body — objectifying it for his own gaze to treat you like a toy that only he could touch.

You couldn’t do anything with Leon’s eyes watching or trapping and limiting your movement; he wouldn’t let you shower without him watching, no privacy when you dressed, and every single night he would sleep next to you and have his arm around you all night. When he was sound asleep you would never challenge and take chances; he had already shown you plenty of reasons to not challenge, so you laid there and cried yourself to sleep, hearing his shallow breaths linger down your spine and keep you cold and fearful.

Leon knew you weren’t happy with these conditions, but he didn’t want anything to change, so he tried to win your love. Every single time he would punish you for trying to escape, talking back to him, or not obeying his every demand — he would give you a gift that any woman would be head over heels for. Last time it was all the skin care you could want, then it was new pyjamas, then cakes from a bakery; you hated yourself every time you gave him a smile and hugged him, no one had ever bought things like this for you and you were aware of why Leon was doing this, but you couldn’t help but admire all these new things and how far Leon was going to impress you. But you weren’t totally won over, the memories of the punishments stained your mind, and it was getting harder and harder to not surrender to Leon completely and accept your fate.

You were sitting on your bed — your ankle still attached to the radiator — and was lifeless. No movement, staring at the blank wall, but while you looked emotionless on the outer peripheral, there was a storm of trauma and turmoil brewing in your mind, screaming for someone to just help you.

You were remembering what happened last night, the way Leon took you for his own and left you vandalised and violated; your head was spinning with constant memories, making a mark in the temporal lobe. You buried your head in your hands as your mind kept haunting you with Leon’s actions.

“No Leon, please stop!” you continuously exclaimed as Leon kept trying to mount himself on top of you, stopping your efforts to move your hands away from his to stop him from pinning you down and making you more vulnerable.

“Come on, I don’t like the chase,” pure venom was lingering in his words, he was sweet to you during the day and did everything he can but when his thirst came, he became a different person whose only aim was to take everything from you and discard you after — until he needed to be satisfied again.

You remembered the way his rough fingers tightened around your wrists, making you wince in pain with how hard he pressed his nails into your skin, making more markings of his “possession”. He ignored your pleas every single night; there was no point but there was that little part of your brain that wished he would recognise what he was doing was immoral, and have some compassion for you… But he never did, it was always the same.

A favourite thing he loved to do was scare you, not with just verbal threats, but physically threatening your life by pulling out a knife and using it to make you moan and cry in pain.

“Leon, please no, I’m begging you!” you only needed to see that godforsaken knife to know what he was going to do with it, it was the fear in your eyes which gave Leon a thrill, a glimmer of lust and sin clouding those previously innocent blue eyes.

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” he reached for the bedside table while holding onto your wrists with little to no effort, reaching for the ducktape to place around your mouth, “if you’re going to act like a brat… I’ll treat you like one,” your mouth was now covered and muffled screams were now protruding from your mouth; sadly, you knew these screams for help were futile.

Your fingers tightened into a fist as you recounted everything Leon had done to you, your eyes watering and your lip quivering as you tried to stop the flood of tears that were about to stream at any minute.

As Leon looked at your helpless state — tape around your mouth and wrists — he watched you tighten your thighs; he smirked, finding it amusing how you would always try, even though your efforts would constantly fail.

“You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you,” your eyes watered, “You know what’s going to happen… You act like a brat, you get a brat’s punishment,” he furrowed his eyebrows as you watched your body, putting his hands around either thigh and separating them, positioning himself in the middle of your legs.

You took a deep breath as you tried to accept what you knew was going to happen; you lived in a replay of life, a routine of violation and a lack of care. You closed your eyes as Leon watched you, needing you to satisfy his thirst and hunger; the parasite screamed and conquered his mind every time it needed you.

Leon glided the cold blade of his knife along your body, making you gasp when the freezing and sharp blade trickled down your skin. Leon was careful, starting at your throat and moving it down your breasts, stomach, and then your pussy. He flipped it around, then pressed the handle to your clit; with every ounce of your being you tried not to give in, but as always your body betrayed you and invited Leon with your pussy becoming wetter as the handle was caressed on your swollen clit and wet slit.

That night all started with your attempted escape, something you wish you never did after enduring the consequences of your actions. A few moments before Leon had taken your body, you had tried to remove the shackle permanently accessorised on you; you saw a sharp edge on the radiator, knowing it wasn’t going to do much but wanting to try anything to get you out of there. You pressed one chain interlink in a back-and-forth motion seeing some dust come off as you got lost in the thought of going to the police and alerting them of everything you had endured.

But he soon caught up with your plans.

You didn’t realise, but Leon had heard from downstairs, looking at you as he stood in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” your heart sunk to your stomach, goosebumps covering your skin as you paused in your tracks.

“I-I… Leon please, I won’t run I just need this off —” he cut you off, rushing over to you, grabbing you by the throat and pulling you onto the bed to punish you, “Leon please, please, please!”

“You’ve proved you cannot be trusted you fucking whore!”

Tears were streaming down your face now, but you could finally let your tears be free with Leon being gone to “pick some things up”; you were happy to finally have a bit of privacy to be vulnerable and emotional, even if it was limited.

You curled up into a ball of vulnerability, the pillow case being soaked with a puddle of your tears when the memories kept flashing; you couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much. What really ate at you was actually liking how Leon felt when he had his way with you; you hated how everything had to be on his terms, no longer having autonomy, but your body always invited him, getting wetter the more Leon would play with your figure.

“When are you going to realise you’re mine,” Leon said as he slipped his finger along your slit, a line of slick tracing on his index finger, enticing Leon to have a taste.

You stood there with no movement — frozen in time — but your body kept reacting to Leon. You squeezed your eyes shut as Leon slipped his tongue along your folds, your back arching as he circled the tip of his tongue around your swollen clit, smirking as he felt you getting wetter and your legs shaking as he quickened the pace. You kept trying to keep your moans in, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket and biting your lip to not encourage Leon anymore — but it was no use, your body wanted the ecstasy and excitement he was giving you, and you didn’t want to deny that feeling anymore. Leon then entered a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a moan while you were under his control; he inserted another, and another the more you opened up for him — he had you around his little finger now and there was nothing you could do about it.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You couldn’t help but wonder if anyone cared if Derek actually contacted the police if Jill was wondering where you went; you wanted to believe that people cared and that there were search parties for you, but the little voice in your head was saying that you would be alone with Leon… Forever. This thought only made you cry even more; you shuffled in the bedsheets, not reacting when you saw Leon standing in the doorway, staring at your puffy and red eyes, curled up like a child.

“Oh sweetheart, there’s no need to cry, I’m here,” he walked closer to you, his fingers combing through your hair; you didn’t react, you had no energy to fight or say anything, waiting for whatever Leon would do. “I was thinking, how about I unlock that shackle, and run you a bath… Just promise you won’t run.”

You were excited by this, an actual moment you could get something and feel some sense of normality.

“I won’t… I learnt my lesson,” you said with a shallow breath.

“Good girl,” he kissed you on the cheek.

He unlocked the shackle, and the sound of the metal hitting the floorboard made exhilaration course through your body — but the desire to run was not there, you stayed put, knowing Leon was watching for any sudden movements or seeing if you looked at the door. He was pleased when he saw you just looked at him, waiting for him to give you permission.

You walked into the bathroom with him, seeing that Leon had run you a lovely warm bath; he put a bath bomb in, candles around the edge, helping you get undressed and get into the bath. You couldn’t help but love this side of Leon.

“Maybe I do have it good here, he cares for me,” you thought as you sat in the warm water, having Leon helping you get clean, rubbing the shampoo in your hair and having the water trickle down your skin. It felt amazing, but you couldn’t help but burst into tears, having your knees curl under your chin as you broke down, having Leon widen his eyes and wonder what he did.

“What’s wrong sweetheart,” he took a while until he spoke again, “If it’s about earlier, I’m sorry, I’ll protect you, I’m here for you… I just want you to realise that you won’t have to do anything but stay with me,” your tears started to calm down.

“Okay… I won’t leave,” you finally surrendered.

“Can you promise me one thing?” you looked over at him.

“Yes, Leon.”

“Please be the best mother you can be,” he placed a hand on your stomach, and your whole world collapsed there and then.

Those words circled around your head, making your body language and movements freeze, with no emotion in your eyes or facial expressions.

“I-I… I’m going to be a… mother,” you felt sick when the word “mother” came out of your mouth. You never thought about kids in great detail, and you hadn’t been with anyone to think of this topic in great detail, but you did know that this wasn’t the ideal situation to be a mother. To bear the child of your abuser… Who you were slowly getting attached to.

“Yes, darling,” he pulled a piece of paper out of his jean pocket, showing you the documents to confirm the pregnancy, you had no idea when Leon collected this data but his methods weren’t in the front of your thoughts at the moment; you were thinking about motherhood, how a human being was actually forming inside of you, and what Leon would be like as a father, thinking if you would get more freedom when you birthed the child.

“Please don’t punish me here but,” Leon looked at you with innocent eyes, the darker veins being faint, only visible when he was manhandling you in the bedroom, “Will I be able to walk around the house freely, I can’t stay in this room any longer,” you felt a lump in your throat as you spoke to him.

“Yes, you will have more freedom just don’t go —”

“I won’t… I’ve learnt my lesson… I’ll stay here.”

He stroked his hand through your hair: “That’s my girl, I love you,” you paused for a moment.

“…I love you too, Leon,” the words were difficult to come out, but it didn’t feel totally wrong to say, like it was almost natural and wanted.

my links: masterlist | ao3 profile | kofi

a/n: sorry that this took so long to get out, my mental health has kinda been on the rocks lately but i’m trying my best to get out of the funk and post. please like and reblog (i rlly appreciate it and it rlly helps), have a nice day/evening <3

©︎ admirxation. please do not copy or steal my works.

[quinloki]

Trafalgar Law - Sweet

Requestor: Anonymous, @razzledazzleelderberry , @strawheart-pirate (You all wanted to see Law catch a break XD ) Reader Vibes Requested: AFAB she/her - no pronouns or bodily description was used in the final result. CW: Needle injection, visceral panic, vomit, amnesia, angst, happy ending

You don’t remember what caused you to end up in a hospital bed, but you weren’t in any pain. The steady beat of a heart monitor got your attention for a little bit, and the strong scent of bleach and disinfectants made your nose twitch.

You sat up slowly, and a vertigo in your head brought your hand up to some bandages wrapped around it. A dull aching throb was the first sense of pain you’d had upon waking up, but even as uncomfortable as it was, it wasn’t alarming. You didn’t feel like you were going to puke, and your vision wasn’t doubled.

The small room was clean and comfortable enough, and you got the distinct impression that you were under water, in a submarine. Why you believed that was beyond you, but you were very sure about it, and not bothered by it.

After a moment a tall man with dark hair came into the room. He was looking at a chart, and while you were certain he was a doctor, the jeans and t-shirt seemed a little informal, not to mention the tattoos and earrings. It was a nice change of pace, and he was certainly cute, but it was a little jarring.

“Heya, doc.” You say, giving a little wave as he looks up.

His eyes widen for a second before he smiles. “You’re up. Good. How do you feel?”

You move your hand back and forth. “So-so. A little dizzy, but nothing bad. Nothing hurt until I sat up, but the dizziness is already passing.”

“That’s good.” He sets the chart down and pulls out a small light, flashing it into your eyes and giving you an easy smile as he watches your pupils react. “Hungry?”

“Little bit.” You answer before looking around the room. You look back at the doc and give him a sheepish look. “What… happened?”

“Pardon?” The easy smile fades and there’s a look of concern on his face.

You tap the bandages around your head. “I don’t know how this happened.”

He straightens up, and gives you a look that’s uncomfortable. His eyes are searching, and his brows are furrowed. As much as he’s trying to keep his turmoil internal, you can feel your own pulse starting to rise in concern.

“What do you remember?” He asks finally.

“I…” You pause, brows furrowing, dread clawing up your chest. “I…” You can hear the heart monitor beeping faster, and the doctor’s hands are on your shoulders. “I!”

You can’t think of your name. You try to place people you should know - a friend, family, a job, something you enjoy.

“It’s okay,” he asserts, trying to catch your gaze, but your eyes are darting around. Everything is too close, too hot, too foreign. There’s no enough air in the small room and fear grips your neck.

“I can’t remember anything!” You cry, tears heaving out of your eyes as what little food you had left heaves out of your stomach. The doctor doesn’t step back and your anxiety rises, the need to apologize swirled away in the maelstrom of your lost memories.

Lost sense of self.

“I can’t!” Your fingers claw at the poor doctor, who moves quickly to grab your wrists. Before you’re even aware of it you’re pinned down to the bed, his commanding voice bellowing names you don’t recognize. “I can’t remember!” You cry, thrashing in pure panic as two more come into the room.

Every breath feels like glass dust, burning, cutting and choking you, but you can’t stop trying to pull oxygen into lungs that are desperate for it. You wanted to get out of the room, to run until your lungs burst, to outpace the fear gripping your heart and screaming for you to remember.

Dark cropped hair, longer strawberry red, they move with efficiency and the bed bucks and rocks as your beat and thrash against it and the binds that are trying to hold you to it. Panic and fear are becoming terror, you can’t remember your name, you don’t know where you are, or why you’re there. Everything was okay, it was all comfort and understanding until you tried to think on it. Tried to focus on it.

You had to get away! How could you have forgotten! Your own name, your own self, everything! It was all blank and if you could just get away! If you could leave you could outrun it!

You roar in frustration and fear, causing everyone around the bed to take a step back.

The doctor shouts orders and the other two move with similar practiced efficiency again. Syringe and medication, the doctor’s focus shifts, and the other two turn back toward you. Worry on their faces, soothing sounds falling from their lips, words lost to your fear and rage, drowned by a heart that pounds so fiercely in your chest your vision hazes red.

Four hands hold your arm perfectly still even as the rest of your thrashes and screams. The pinching sting of the needle goes completely unnoticed, but the effects of the drug that seeps into your vein is fast-acting.

The panic and terror stays in your eyes for only a moment before the drug relaxes you so much you fall back into an easy sleep.

-:-    -:-    -:-    -:-    -:-    -:-    -:-   -:-   -:-

You don’t remember what caused you to end up in a hospital bed, but you weren’t in any pain. The steady beat of a heart monitor got your attention for a little bit, and the strong scent of bleach and disinfectants made your nose twitch.

Your body feels heavy, like you slept so deeply that it didn’t want to wake. There’s someone sitting by your bed with dark hair and sideburns. The goatee frames a familiar face, golden earrings glinting softly in the dim light of the monitors.

Deep golden eyes look up from whatever he was reading, and he smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You say back quietly.

“You hit your head.” He says evenly, carefully. He takes your hand into his gently. “You might not remember much, but it’s okay. Missing memories after a head injury happen.”

You wince a little and shake your head. “Yeah, it’s… kind of hazy. Thinking hurts.” You grunt a soft laugh and focus on his eyes. “What happened, Law?”

All the air leaves him and he presses his forehead to your hand.

“Law?” You question and he shakes his head, squeezing your hand.

“A minute,” he says, in a voice hoarse and nearly cracking. “Just… give me a minute.”

“… Are you crying? I’m sorry, I must’ve scared you when I got hurt.” You offer, sitting up enough to run your hand through his hair. You can hear the shuddering breath he draw in, eyes wet against your hand, even if you can’t see the tears, you can feel them.

He shakes his head again, turning his head enough you can see the tears drying against his eyes as he keeps your hand against his cheek and your other hand in his hair. There’s a soft smile on his lips and relief in his face.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He insists, kissing the top of your hand before he leans up toward you. He pauses for a moment, searching your eyes. “Snow drop.”

You smile, ruffling his hair with your fingers. “Yes, my love?”

He leans closer, giving you a gentle kiss, you can taste his tears on his lips. Once, twice, the sweet and slow kisses are light and gentle, and maybe a little desperate. He leans back enough to lightly kiss the tip of your nose.

“Don’t ever call me doc, okay?”

“But you are,” you reply, leaning toward him and initiating a kiss yourself.

“I’m a captain too,” he points out.

“Alright then - mmmph!” Your words are halt as he slips a hand along the side of your face, pulling you into a kiss that’s a little heavier than the ones before.

“Don’t call me captain either.” He huffs, gold eyes shifting from your lips to your eyes. “Please.”

“Of course.” You agree, kissing the tip of his nose this time. “How about Traffy?”

He grunts, his smile turning into a soured frown even if his eyes are still alight with joy. He starts to say something and stops, pulling you into another kiss. The salty taste of tears has given way to a soft warmth, and you notice an errant tear slip down his cheek as he leans back again.

“If it means you still remember me, you can call me Traffy.” He admits, pulling you into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

As though you’ll float away if he risks letting you go.

[joviepog]

Okay, I’m finally (kinda) back! I wrote a little siren x reader story based on a song! Hope you enjoy!

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ

People I don’t like

Warnings: Cursing, Arson, mention of people checking each other out, fire, mentions of screams, alcohol

Who: Siren x Reader

Pronouns: She / they

Word count: 1,137

Tag list: @gaytoadwithapopsicle @corner-of-void @danny-yagami @loversj0y @ax-y10 @lanaxoxoxoxoxox @haunted-headset @phxntomsdusk

Anything else: It’s been a while since I’ve written! Please excuse any errors and bad spelling! I will try to write as much as possible during this Christmas Break! :D

This story is NOT proofread.

Listen to this as you read!

“Hello. It’s so good to see you!”

You hear a cheery yet smug voice behind you as you smoke a cigarette. Great. You get partnered with him out of all people? Like seriously, siren out of all people?

“We’ve met before but nice to meet you.”

You say with a fake smile as he walks in front of you. He’s wearing his masquerade mask which is a dark blue. Similar to his regular villain costume. He wears a black suit and his hair is slick back, a new look.

“Yeah, i dont really wanna be here.”He says with a sigh

You nodded and suddenly launch at him to knock him out. If you can, you can get all the money. But as soon as you got close you him, he grabbed your hand and pinned you to the wall.

He smirks as he looks down at you which only made you roll your eyes. “What’s my name? Do you remember?”

You scoff and give him an innocent smile, “I’m pretty sure you have my number.”

He backs off, “So let’s pretend we like each other.”

The two of you walk in to a big room made of what seems like gold. There are big windows that open to multiple balconies, there is one large door that opens to an outside area. The roof is high and there are chandeliers everywhere you look. People with fancy dresses and suits fill the area.

“This room is so suffocating.” You whisper to Siren. He tightens his tight on his suit and shrugs. “Walking on ice, but nobody breaks it.” He winks at you before walking off to talk to people. You follow suit and walk uncomfortably with your big dress to the bar area. This oldish man comes up to you, complimenting your body and outfit. You hated it but kept your cool. You were stuck in this one way conversation.

‘Guess i’ll be here for a while.’ You thought.

He starts talking about his paycheck, blowing smoke in your face.

You take a shot with a fake smile as you look at him, excusing yourself before taking another round.

You talk to a couple more people, making friendly banter. The only goal you had was to get everyone on your side and to distract people from the vault. Your coworkers are working to steal as much money as possible. You let out a sigh as you tune out the lady’s words.

‘Everybody in the party’s fucking fake. I really wish i could say it to this lady’s face. But i wont. So…’ you think before talking to someone new.

“Hello it’s so good to see you!” You say to a man

“It’s nice to meet you!” You say to another man only 10 minutes later.

“What’s my name? Do you remember?” You say with a smile to the first guy you talked to at the bar.

“I’m pretty sure you have my number.” You say with a wink to a random man.

‘Let’s pretend we like each other.’ You think at almost the people you’ve talked to.

You wonder if Sireb is doing well with the lady’s . You stole a couple things from the men you had talked to for yourself to sell.

You come up to a woman and compliment her shoes. Then only a minute later you ask to know more about another lady.

Your job was hard, but you loved to act like you cared when really you dont give any shits.

As you talk to another man you see Siren flirt with a girl, having her pinned up to a wall. You scoff in disgust before looking away. Why did it make your heart pound? The lady your talking to is going in and on about herself. You keep on a smile but you scoff at her.

‘Can’t you bother someone else?’ You think.

Only 2 hours in and you’ve made a large amount of progress. You now have a group of people around you. They were interested in you.

You make a quick toast, “Raise a glads if you like me!” They all cheer and raise their glasses. You smile and take a sip of your drink, everyone joins in. Siren comes up behind you and you smirk, you could smell the alcohol off him from a mile away. “You’re getting trashed ‘cause you can’t leave?” You look at him in your seat, he’s standing behind you. You felt like a queen

“Guess we’re in this together.” He says as he looks down at you.

“Makes my head hurt.”

You get up and excuse yourself from the crowd, now walking with him. He might be drunk but he still looks composed and he’s still doing his job. He just randomly blurts things out..

“Everybody in this party’s fucking fake.”

You smirk, “And so am i, but we just go here so we gotta show some face.” You give him a laugh and he laughs along. You both walk away from each other before finding someone else to talk to.

“Hello it’s so good to see you.”

“We’ve met before but nice to meet you.”

“What’s my name? do you remember?”

“I’m pretty sure you have my number.”

“Let’s pretend we like each other.”

Suddenly you and Siren get a message from your ear piece that they got everything. You excuse yourself in last time before running away with Siren.

“Finally, We’re done.” He says with an exhausted sigh. “Not me.” You shrug

His eyes widen and he looks at you. “Wait, what?”

You wink at him before running away. It only takes you about 5 minutes to set gasoline around some of the building. Suddenly your coworkers show up.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?”

“YOU’RE GONNA RUIN THE PLAN!”

You shrug and give them a smirk. “Oh well.”

You grab the lighter from my pocket and set the place on fire.

“Cya.” You run off, taking off the fancy dress and wearing your costume from underneath. As you run you see smoke and fire in the distance. Screams filling your ears. You smirk as you run away. Hopefully that gives the villains a distraction so that you could escape.

That doesn’t matter though.

You know they’re weak.

Once you get to an alley way you open your pocket to see that everything you stole was gone.

“Wait. What the heck?” You start to look all around you before you hear a voice.

“Looking for these?” Siren. He dangled the watched, necklaces, and bracelets that you had stolen.

He walks up to you, grabs your hand, and opens it. He places the stolen items in your hand before walking away.

“Next time Darling, be more careful with the things you steal.” He looks you up and down. “Also, be more mindful of the chance that people can follow you.”

He smiles at you before running off.

And you’re left there, furious.

And yet you’re blushing.

Why were you blushing?!?

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